The cot in the breakroom was the most comfortable place in the whole world. At least in that moment, it was. Iris lay on her back, an arm over her eyes. She was still awake, but the memory of Killian on the beach made it feel like a dream. He was the most beautiful man in the world. Reels and TicTok were full of thirst traps, beautiful men, but Killian was more than all of them together. Beautiful Korean men were great, but Killian had a strength to him, like the guy who did those Norwegian videos, but with an ancient Viking aura to him.

In the memory, he smiled at her, the evening sun and aura around his golden hair. In that moment, cut off from all the world, she could believe that he was who he said he was. He was Lancelot, an immortal werewolf, and a king of outcasts. He held out his hand to her and she reached back to take it, to splash in the surf that danced up around their feet. He swept her up in his arms. “I love you, Iris Hill!” 

In that memory, in that moment, she believed him. He spun her around and she slipped into safety and the dark of sleep. 

“Iris! Eyes!” Janice shouted. “Wake up!”

If she were the queen of outcasts she would not have to wake up, if she didn’t want to! This was home, not a theme park for rich adults.  She cracked an eye open and her head sent her notice of an incoming migraine. “What?”

Janice was the head nurse that shift. She was what the 1950s would look like if decades incarnated. Her hair always started the shift in a tight bun and ended the shift looking like silver spun cotton candy. She wore a pale blue dress that had probably been made in the 1950s. She glared down at Iris with dark eyes. 

Looking up at her, Iris thought that exhaustion made the older nurse look a little like a racoon, dark eyes, and teeth that were supposed smiling but looked more like at table saw about to chase her out of the cot. “What’s wrong?”

“Pile up on I5, my dear. We have so many transport inbound that Dr. Park has us on divert already. We need you.” 

“Yeah, coming.” Iris said, pushing herself up. She had already done her eight hour shift for the day, so she only had a few more hours she could give them before it got illegal. 

“How old is the coffee?”

“I just made a fresh pot. Take Rooms Seven and Nine.” 

“10-4, boss.” 

Iris made and drank her coffee quickly. She wrapped her braid around her head and pinned it down, washed her hands, and made for room Seven. 

Once inside, she wished she wasn’t, but only for a moment. Things needed to be done. “Hello, I’m Iris. I’m your nurse this evening. You were in an accident.” Iris pulled on gloves, smiled softly at the open, unseeing eyes. Her patient was maybe seventeen, a young woman with dark eyes and a hundred little braids. Iris pressed her stethoscope to the patient’s chest, trying in a few places. She checked for a pulse.  She performed auscultation, but got nothing positive. There was an excessive amount of blood on the bed, soaking into the bed protector. Something had perforated the patient’s abdomen. She noted time of death. “I know you did a good job, Jody,” She said to the patient. “You should be proud of yourself.” 

While the patient was dead and the time of death was noted, it wasn’t clear when the brain completely lost all function. If she were dead in a strange place, she’d want someone to be kind to her.

“Is my daughter in here!” A man bellowed, filling up the entire door as he stared at the woman on the bed. “That’s my daughter! She’s gonna be okay! She’s only seventeen!” His eyes were more white than pupil. “You!” He pointed at Iris! “Do something! Where’s the doctor!” 

“Sir, I’m very sorry, but your daughter has passed!” Iris pulled a sheet up over the girl’s face. 

“NO!” The man bellowed, striding into the room. “You’re going to do something for her! She’s not dead!” 

“Your loved ones always stay with us,” Iris said, backing away. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit! You’re a doctor! Fix her!” 

“I’m an advanced practice RN, not a doctor, not yet,” Iris smiled her most accommodating smile. “I’ll get you another doctor. Do you want to sit with Jody for a little bit?”

The man grabbed Iris by the throat and lifted her off the floor, shaking her. “Do something to help her! She has her whole life ahead of her!” 

Iris went completely limp, as heavy as she could make herself. When his arm dipped, she threw her legs around his arm and sank her nails into his wrist. He howled. Then he lifted off his feet and shook. 

“Non, release the lady now,” a deep and very certain voice growled. 

The grieving father let go of Iris, then dropped down to his knees. Behind him stood a blond man with blue eyes and a dark blue velvet suit. 

“Killian?”

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine! I had everything under control!”

“You’re a third of this man’s mass,” Killian pointed out. 

By then orderlies were in the room. 

Iris gave her attention to them, telling them to take the man to psych for a 72 hour hold. “It doesn’t matter how much bigger he is. I can take care of myself, Killian. What in the hell are you doing here?”

“The Lady Anne said your shift would be ending.” 

“Well, it’s not. There was a car pile up on the highway. What are you doing in Seattle?”

“I came to be with you,” he said, a little hurt lacing the edges of his voice.

“This is the real world, Killian, not a werewolf Disneyland. Don’t touch my patients!”

“He had his hand on your throat!” 

“And I was taking care of it! Where are you staying?”

“Gisco arranged rooms at the Four Seasons, but I’d like to stay with you.” 

“I bet you would. You have my phone number, call me tomorrow at two pm.” 

“As you will,” Killian said, bowing politely. He backed away as she peeled her gloves off. 

“Don’t look like I fucking kicked your puppy, Killian. You can’t just stalk someone and come into their workplace.” 

“You know you don’t have to do any of this. I can and will give you as much money as you like.” 

“Medicine isn’t about money for me,” Iris said. “Go. I’ll talk to you at two pm tomorrow.”

He bowed again. “My lady.” 

After he’d gone and the morgue had taken Jody, Iris washed her hands and moved towards room nine. Whoever was in there was probably going to be grumpy from having to wait. 

“Eyes,” Janice said moving into stride beside her. “Was that the man from your vacation?”

“Yeah.” 

“He’s pretty.” 

“Yeah.” 

“What’s he doing here?”

“He followed me home.”