JAY JAY POV
The moment I stepped into the hospital, the familiar scent of disinfectant and busy hallways greeted me. But there was something—or rather, someone—new.
My new intern was already there.
The second our eyes met, he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. Or maybe he was just stunned by my arrival? I mean, I can't really blame the guy. My aura tends to do that to people.
"Mr. Peralta," I said, keeping my face unreadable as I approached him.
"Y-yes!" he stammered.
I didn't answer right away. I just looked at him for a second, then looked down at the folder in my hand. I spent some time going through his records earlier, and honestly? It wasn't what I expected.
"I checked your files," I started, flipping through the pages. "And I have to say, it's pretty impressive if you ask me. You're only twenty-one, yet here you are, an intern. Not to mention, you've already got a pilot's job on the side? That's something."
I looked back at him, actually feeling a bit of respect for the kid. Most people his age are still trying to figure out what to do with their lives, but this one? He's already flying—literally.
"Pretty impressive," I added, giving him a small nod
He seemed to let out a breath he was holding, though he still looked a bit tense. He was probably wondering if I was always this intimidating.
"Anyway, since we'll be seeing a lot of each other," I leaned against the desk, crossing my arms. "What do you want me to call you?"
He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Ci-n is fine"
Ci-n.
"Alright then, Ci-n," I said, testing the name out. "Let's see if you can keep up."
He was still standing there looking a bit too formal, like he was waiting for me to give him a military drill or something.
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Being too stiff in this hospital will just give you a headache before the shift even ends.
"Okay, listen up. My number one rule is actually pretty easy," I said, looking him straight in the eye so he knew I was serious—but not too serious. "Be friendly with me. There's no need to be so professional all the time unless someone is, you know, actually dying. But that's another story for another time. For now? Just chill."
Ci-n actually smiled at that, and he nodded. I liked that. I don't have time for people who are too scared to breathe around me.
"Call me Jay or Luna," I added as I started walking, gesturing for him to follow. "Anything is fine. Most people call me by both names anyway."
We finally reached our first stop—the main nurse station of the West Wing. I turned around
I'm really not the type to make people tremble in their boots. Life is too short to be a terror doctor, honestly. I'd rather we have fun while we work.
"Okay, here is your checklist," I said, handing him a clipboard with a flourish. I gave him a little wink to show I wasn't about to bite his head off. "Complete these for me, okay?"
I watched as he took the clipboard, looking at the list like it was a mission from a flight tower.
"Don't look so pressured, Ci-n! It's just basic rounds and files," I laughed, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm not those scary senior doctors you see in movies. As long as you do your work and stay friendly, we're going to be best friends. Just think of me as your cool older sister who happens to know where all the medicine is kept."
He looked at the list and then back at me, finally looking like he was starting to get my vibe.
"I'll get right on it... Jay," he said, testing out my name for the first time.
I grinned, pointing a finger at him. "Ayun! Much better. Now go, fly away, Pilot-slash-Intern. I'll be at the cafeteria if you need help or if you just want to grab a coffee."
After leaving Ci-n with his missions, I headed straight to the Emergency Room. I adjusted my mask, making sure it was snug.
It's one of those days where you just have to look the part of a serious doctor, even if I was humming a pop song under my breath.
I spotted a little group in one of the cubicles—two men and a small boy. They looked a bit tense, so I decided to bring some of my energy into the mix.
"Hello, everyone!" I greeted them, giving a cheerful wave.
"Hi, Doc," one of them replied, looking a bit relieved to see a doctor who didn't look like they wanted to bite someone.
"What is your name?" I asked, looking at the group.
The older-looking one stepped forward a bit. "I'm Angelo Fernandez, and this is my brother, Aries Fernandez."
I giggled softly behind my mask. "Nice to meet you both, really. But actually, I was asking for the name of the little boy over there."
I gave the kid a little wink. Even though they couldn't see my mouth, my eyes always give me away when I'm smiling.
I hope the smiling eyes trick works, because otherwise, I just look like I'm squinting at them in a weird way.
"Oh! Right, sorry," Aries said, scratching the back of his neck. "This is my kuya's son, Angel."
Angel, son of Angelo. Creative.
But my brain immediately snagged on the other name. Aries.
Wait. Like the zodiac sign? Aries? Really?
The urge to call him Horoscope hit me so hard I almost choked on my own breath. I could already imagine it "Hey, horoscope, what's the forecast for today?"
No, Luna. Stop it. Control yourself. He is a stranger. You cannot just go around giving random people nicknames based on the stars. Be a professional for once!
I cleared my throat, forcing the Horoscope joke back into the depths of my mind.
"Angel. What a brave name for a brave boy," I said, turning my attention back to the little one. "So, Angel, tell me. What's feeling a bit ouchie today?"
I dragged a chair over and sat down right next to Angel. I always like to get on the same level as my little patients—it makes me look less like a "scary doctor" and more like a friend. Or at least, a very stylish lady in a lab coat and a mask.
I turned to the dad, offering him a clipboard I'd grabbed from the nurse's station.
"Mr. Fernandez, please fill out this form while I talk to your son," I said, giving Angelo my most encouraging "please-don't-miss-any-lines" look.
He took the form with a nod, looking a bit relieved to have something to do with his hands. I wanted to make sure he was busy so I could focus entirely on the little guy. And also, to keep myself from glancing at Aries—a.k.a. Horoscope—because I was still ninety percent sure I was going to accidentally ask him what his rising sign was.
Focus, Luna. Patient first. Zodiac signs later.
I turned my chair back to Angel, leaning in a little closer. He was watching me with big, curious eyes. Honestly, kids are the best part of this job. They're way more honest than adults.
"So, Angel," I said, my voice dropping into that soft, Ate tone I use when I'm trying to be extra friendly. "While your daddy is busy with all that boring paperwork, why don't you tell me how you're feeling? No pressure, just us friends talking."
I noticed he was clutching his stomach a little. My doctor-brain immediately started ticking through the possibilities, but my brain was just thinking about how cute he was.
"Does something feel like it's doing a little dance in your tummy?" I asked, tilting my head. "Or did you maybe swallow a tiny alien that's trying to find its way out?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aries Horoscope bahagyang natawa (laughed a little). Well, at least someone appreciates my humor.
Angel giggled a little, and honestly, that's the best sound you can hear in an ER. If a kid can still laugh, it means they're still in the game—and more importantly, it means they aren't terrified of the person in the white coat.
"I got into a fight," Angel whispered, a mix of pride and pain in his voice. "And my stomach hurts... and there is a little cut on my legs."
I gasped, leaning in toward him like he'd just handed me a top-secret government file. "A fight? No way!" I replied, my eyes wide with fake shock. "Whoa. Look at this, everyone—we've got a little warrior over here, huh? A real-life action star!"
I saw Aries—a.k.a. Horoscope—looking at us from the side. I bet he was surprised that a doctor would actually react like that, but hey, that's just how I roll. You don't get information from kids by being stiff; you get it by being their comrade-in-arms.
"So, my little warrior," I said, gently pulling my chair closer so I could examine the bruise on his stomach. "How old are you? You look pretty tough for your age."
"Five years old," he said, puffing out his chest a little despite the discomfort.
Five? Only five and he's already out there getting into scraps? He's basically a mini-gladiator.
"Five? Wow! I thought you were at least ten with that kind of bravery," I teased, carefully checking the bruise on his tummy. It looked like a standard playground hit, but I had to be sure. "Does it hurt when I press here, or is that just where you keep your super strength?"
He winced a little, but he was trying so hard to stay brave in front of his dad and Uncle Horoscope.
"It hurts a little," he admitted.
"Got it," I nodded, then shifted my attention to his leg. There was a small, jagged cut there. Probably from a fall or a rogue toy. "And what about this cut? Did a dragon do this, or was it a secret mission gone wrong?"
I could see Angelo and Aries watching me, probably wondering if I was actually a doctor or just a very enthusiastic babysitter who found a lab coat. But I didn't care. As long as Angel felt safe, I was doing my job.
I reached for some cleaning supplies, keeping my movements light and easy. "Don't worry, Angel. We're going to clean this up, and I'll give you a special badge—otherwise known as a cool bandage—for being the bravest five-year-old I've met all day."
I glanced up at Aries for a split second. Don't call him Horoscope, Jay. Stay focused. Do not ask him if he's a typical fire sign. Focus on the kid.
"Aries, right?" I said, finally acknowledging the man who was just standing there looking handsome. "Can you hold his hand for a second? Just so he knows his backup is here while I clean this cut."
Aries nodded, moving closer to the bed to take Angel's small hand in his. He looked so serious about it, like he was the designated bodyguard for this operation. I couldn't help but appreciate the gesture. Good job, Horoscope. At least you know how to be a supportive sidekick.
I started cleaning the cut on Angel's leg, keeping my touch as light as a feather. I knew it'd sting a bit, so I had to keep the conversation going to distract him.
"So, Angel," I said, looking at him with a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Spill the tea. How is the other guy doing? Did you leave him as a mess, or is he currently crying to his mom?"
Angel laughed again, though he winced a little when the antiseptic touched his skin. He squeezed Aries' hand tight. "He's... he's okay. He was bigger than me, but I didn't run away!"
"That's my boy," I chirped, giving him a quick thumbs-up. "Never back down from a giant, right?"
As I finished cleaning the wound, I did a quick check on his Range of Motion. The cut itself wasn't deep—standard playground battle scar—but the way his muscles were reacting told a different story. It was definitely going to be sore for a while.
"Okay, listen up, Captain," I said, looking at Angel and then glancing up at Aries. "The bad news is, that cut is going to sting for a bit. But the really bad news? Your leg is officially on vacation."
Aries arched an eyebrow. "On vacation?"
I nodded, patting Angel's knee gently. "Yup. For at least a week, no running, no jumping, and definitely no more fights with giants. You have to be a professional couch potato. If I catch you running around, I'm going to have to prescribe you some super-boring medicine that tastes like old socks. We don't want that, right?"
Angel's eyes went wide. "Old socks? No!"
"Exactly," I giggled. I turned my attention to Aries, giving him a slightly more professional (but still fun) look. "In all seriousness, keep him off that leg as much as possible for the next seven days. It's not deep, but he needs to let it heal or he'll end up with a much bigger scar. And Aries? Make sure he actually follows it. I have a feeling he's a bit of a rebel."
Aries looked down at his nephew and then back at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'll make sure he stays put, Doc."
"Good," I said, standing up and stretching. "I'll go check on the forms with your brother. Hang tight, Horoscope—I mean, Aries."
Crap. Did I just say that out loud?
I quickly turned around before he could ask me what I meant, my face heating up behind my mask. Luna, focus! Stop thinking about the stars and start thinking about the charts!
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