The light flickered on abruptly, making Aleyna groan as the illumination penetrated her eyelids, forcing her out of her fitful doze. The night shift during the last few weeks had been more hectic than usual, necessitating the need for more Healing than she had previously been used to in one period of time. Hence, taking a nap whenever she could to recharge her batteries, so to speak.

"Dr Satya? Multiple stabbing, ETA ten minutes."

Aleyna groaned again, nodding as she rolled off the couch in the little-used fifth of the Healing Rooms and stretched, tugging her hair back into its smart ponytail. She caught the door as it dropped shut after the nurse exited, hurrying downstairs to await the arrival of this emergency.

The waiting room was not empty yet, even after midnight, with several people still awaiting triage and treatment for minor injuries and illnesses. At the reception desk, Aleyna met up with the standard doctors on duty, Henry Davenport, and Lorna Howe.

"Four victims, two serious, one possibly DOA, one minor," Davenport rattled off as they waited. He'd obviously been beside the dispatch operator when the call came in. "City Guard in attendence; apparently the minor is the attacker."

Warming her stethescope between her palms, 'Ley nodded, exchanging a tense look with Howe. They were the juniors here; Davenport was Chief Resident, and he would be doing the immediate triage to determine who would be dealing with what. They did not have long to wait.

The doors slammed open, three guerneys pushed in by assorted Guard and ambulance staffs. Behind them, the walking wounded - a burly man bleeding profusely from a gash on his temple - was being restrained by a further couple of Guards, who did not wait for Davenport's assessment, but took their charge straight to the seats in the waiting area.

Davenport was rattling off information as the three doctors headed with the patients toward the Treatment Rooms. "Okay, multiple wounds to arms and legs, no abdominal or chest lesions, responsive - Howe, you take that. Possible DOA is definite. Satya, you're with me."

'Ley hurried into the lift with Davenport and the resus crew of nurses and nursing assistants. She knew exactly what she was expected to do. Slipping to the head of the guerney, she laid her fingertips against the temples of the patient - a swarthy young man too still for their peace of mind - and concentrated, seeking out the nerve endings that were providing the pain response and dulling them as best she could. As the elevator came to a halt, she just barely felt the porter lift her up onto the guerney itself so they could continue to the Healing Rooms without distracting her.

Once there, with the patient transferred, Davenport began barking orders, working hard to identify the extent of the young man's injuries and apply treatment to prevent him bleeding out. As drugs were administered, he took a moment to touch 'Ley's arm, lifting a brow in query. She shook her head - with injuries as serious as this, she did not dare to attempt a Healing straightaway. The exertion of energy needed for it could very easily kill the patient rather than cure him. Davenport nodded.

"Okay, I want a pain block in place, Satya. Carol, get these wounds dressed and a bed on Challa," he barked his orders, already stepping back and removing his bloodied gloves and gown. "Observation overnight. Any deterioration in his condition, I want to know about it - alert the General that we may need to transfer for surgery. If he stabilises, get the Healers onto his case."

'Ley heard most of this only vaguely, once again concentrating her innate ability to empathically Heal onto the dangerously harmed young man at her fingertips. A pain block wasn't the easiest of analgesics to administer, but in this case, it was better than pumping the boy full of drugs and hoping for the best. It would keep his nerves dulled to pain for several hours, and ensure that he at least got some rest while he was prepared for a full Healing the next day.

Stepping back herself, she reeled slightly, finding herself leaning against the window glass as her own nerve-endings fired in protest at the pain she had taken into herself. Unlike the patient, however, she would only feel that pain for a little while; her body had long since grown used to assimilating the experience and dealing with it much faster than a normal human body could cope.

Carol glanced up from her work, flashing a smile to the Healer. "You okay there, 'Ley?" she asked in concern.

'Ley waved her hand, nodding as she pulled herself together. "I'm fine, you know that," she snorted, turning to write up her contribution to the case on the notes that were presented to her. "Anyone needs me, I'll be downstairs. Lorna might need a hand."

"Take your time, we know where you are."

Chuckling, 'Ley let herself out of the emergency room, the absorbed pain already receding as she made her way down the stairs and into the main body of the building. Violence, blood, guts, and booze ... Just another night shift at the Shambles Clinic.

Ah, the morning shift. It was actually a relief to be rotated onto Praso Ward today, rather than the hectic schedule of the CDU or the magical centres within the building. At least here on the wards, things were predictable, and there were plenty of hands to help with whatever needed to be done.

In fact, there was one extra pair of hands today, Sofia noted, smiling in a friendly manner to the rather nervous looking new nursing assistant, who was sitting awkwardly in the cramped space of the clinical room, listening to the handover with interest. Handover itself was a fairly quick process - Praso Ward had only four patients today, one of whom was to be discharged following the ward round, and another who was to be transferred to Rhy'Din General for surgery and aftercare. A perfect first shift for a nervous new staff member.

As the night shift went gratefully home to bed, the early shift took over. Louis Mercer, the senior nurse on duty on Praso today, lost the coin toss with a groan, muttering to himself as he headed for the charts and the drugs trolley, while Sofia headed out onto the ward to assist the nursing assistants with their morning duties. This was why she had gone into nursing in the first place - hands on care of those who were temporarily unable to care for themselves. Not paperwork, oh no.

"Knock, knock," she said in a bright voice, stopping outside the closed screens around bed four.

From within, a rather crotchety voice declared, "We don't want any!"

This, in turn, received a laugh from Hepsebah, the senior nursing assistant, and a slightly terrified chuckle from the young man she was teaching how to be an assistant himself. A moment later, Hepsebah came out from behind the screen, a wide grin on her face.

"Need a hand with anything?" she asked, and Sofia shook her head with a low chuckle, waving her hands.

"Actually, I was going to ask you if you needed a hand," she queried with a smile. "Or if I should head over to Andor to ask them."

"Oh, no, they've only got two patients this morning," Hepsebah vetoed that idea pretty fast. She gestured to the mostly empty ward. "Mrs Gorovich is getting herself up and dressed; Mrs Rulai asked not to be disturbed, since she's transferring across today. If you like, you can go help Miss Hanover, if she needs any assistance."

Grinning, Sofia nodded. "Right, Miss Hanover," she agreed cheerfully. "I'll be with her, then."

As Hepsebah slipped back behind the screens to deal with the grumpy Mrs O'Malley, Sofia moved across the ward to greet Miss Hanover with a smile. She'd already looked through the charts - Petulie Hanover was a human of 30 years of age, who'd presented with lower illiac fosse pain and was awaiting a gynaecological consult from the specialist due later in the day. Her pain was not yet under complete control, and despite a will to do everything for herself, she was running out of energy faster than it took to complete most everyday tasks.

"Good morning, Miss Hanover," Sofia greeted her with gentle brightness. "I'm Sofia, I'm one of the nurses on duty this morning. How are you feeling?"

The patient looked up from her book with a grimace of a smile. "If I don't move, I feel just fine," she joked faintly, wincing when she laughed. "You were here when I came in a couple of days ago. Are you going to help me get washed and changed?"

"If that's what you would like," Sofia agreed with another smile, moving to draw the curtains around the bed. "Would you like a wash here, or would you rather go to the bathroom?"

"Oh, I'd love a shower, but I don't think I can stand up for long enough to wash everywhere," Miss Hanover grimaced again at the thought of keeling over in the showers. "Please, call me Petulie, everyone does."

"Well, Petulie, standing up won't be a problem," Sofia promised her pleasantly. "We have shower chairs, and if you're concerned, I can stand in the bathroom with you while you're washing, to be on hand if you feel you want to get out sooner rather than later."

"Really? That wouldn't take you away from what you're supposed to be doing?" Petulie couldn't really disguise the eagerness to have a proper shower, and Sofia couldn't blame her. Bed baths were all very well, but they didn't leave you feeling as though you'd had a real wash.

"This is what I'm supposed to be doing," the young German nurse explained gently. "Come on, let's get you out and into this chair so you can get everything you'll need from the cabinet while I go and hunt down a wheelchair."

"Oh, you're an angel in disguise," Petulie laughed again, wincing once more as the tautness of her stomach made her pain exacerbate for a moment.

As the patient got herself to the edge of the bed, Sofia moved the armchair alongside it, bracing the piece between her thigh and the bed itself.

"Okay, so just lean over and put your hand on this arm nearest to me," she encouraged Petulie, determined not to take the woman's independence away from her entirely, "and shuffle forward until your feet are on the ground. I'm right here; you're not going to fall, I promise you. Now ... both hands on the bed, and push up to stand ... that's perfect ... hold onto the arms of the chair as you turn ... and down we go. Brilliant!"

With a little effort, Sofia pushed the armchair to the cabinet. "Now, take your time getting everything you need together. I'll be back as soon as I can with a wheelchair, and we can grab you a shower."

Leaving her patient to gather herself and recover from the effort of moving from bed to chair, Sofia quickly stripped the bed, dropping the sheets and blankets into the laundry bin as she passed it, off to seek for a wheelchair. This was nursing at its most basic and rewarding, her favourite way to start any shift at the Shambles Clinic.