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Medical Center.
Emergency Ward.
Hunter, the urban soldier king and military medic, was feeling seriously frustrated thanks to Cristina. This was not how he pictured his triumphant return.
What the hell?
He hadn't even gone home yet—just jumped straight in with his battlefield first-aid skills and saved a few patients. Shouldn't the city girls be swooning over him, throwing themselves into his arms? Why, instead, did they think his tough-guy move of stitching himself up without flinching wasn't manly? They either pegged him as having PTSD or being some kind of masochist.
What was wrong with this city?
What was wrong with the world?
"Can you help me stitch this up?"
Major Hunter glanced at the gash on his thigh and handed Cristina the auto-suturing device.
"Sure thing," Cristina said, taking it with a smirk. "But just so we're clear—I'm not into S&M."
"…And I'm not into masochism!" Hunter shot back, exasperated.
"Good to know," Cristina replied as she started stitching up the rest of his wound. She chuckled casually, "Otherwise, that'd be a condition too—better treat it early. Mind if I ask you something?"
"What's that?" Hunter perked up.
Here we go! he thought. No way a city woman could resist the legendary tales of a returning soldier king like him.
"Stitching yourself up without anesthesia—da-da-da—just like that. That's a battlefield habit, right?" Cristina asked.
"Of course," Hunter said, like it was obvious. "Out there, fighting for the country… the battlefield changes in a split second. You've got to adapt fast, be precise. A little scratch like this? No time for numbing shots. You grit your teeth and get it done."
"Then why didn't you just da-da-da finish it all in one go?" Cristina tilted her head to look at him. "Is there some trick to it?"
"…"
Urban soldier king Major Hunter was speechless again. He turned his head, fighting off the awkwardness. "The rest of the wound's trickier to stitch."
"Ohh," Cristina said, sounding a little let down. "I thought there'd be some cool battlefield first-aid secret behind it."
"…"
Hunter glanced back at Cristina, who was focused on stitching him up, and seriously suspected she was messing with him. What battlefield trick? This was just an urban flirting tactic—stitch himself up without anesthesia to show off his masculinity, then let the woman run her hands over his thigh to finish the job. Get close, share a breath, throw in a cool, commanding yet tender gaze, and any normal woman's knees would buckle.
Too bad none of his planned reactions were happening. Not a single one!
But he wasn't giving up. She didn't bite at his war-hero vibe, his tough-guy-no-anesthesia act, or even the close-quarters flirty tension. This confident, professional woman had officially piqued his interest.
Earlier, he'd just been casually tossing out a line. Now? He was getting serious.
He refused to believe it. A major military medic like him—capable of earning big as a doctor and fighting as a soldier—couldn't hook one woman? His fiancée was head-over-heels for him, waiting faithfully back home, kept devoted by nothing more than their email exchanges, ready to marry him the moment he returned. With that double dose of charm, how could he have zero pull with this woman? It didn't add up!
"What are you doing now?"
Cristina had just finished stitching him up when she saw Hunter pull his pant leg down and start limping toward the door.
"Gotta check on my patients," he said, tossing her a determined look over his shoulder.
"You just got stitched up—better not move around too much… but, okay," Cristina said with a shrug.
Hunter glanced at her, saw the genuine indifference in her eyes, and limped off, feeling even more frustrated.
What he didn't realize was that this was all Adam's butterfly effect at work.
In the original timeline, his combo of moves would've floored a single Cristina—leaving her starry-eyed and smitten, no question. But now, with Adam flapping his wings, things had shifted. Dr. Burke hadn't been injured, the wedding got delayed, and Burke's mom hadn't shown up to torment Cristina yet. Burke hadn't let her go out of pity either. Right now, the two of them were happily planning their wedding, their relationship solid.
Cristina, a total medicine nerd, already found one boyfriend-fiancé annoying enough. All the wedding prep? Burke was handling it—she couldn't be bothered to lift a finger. No way she'd waste time and energy chasing a second guy.
Hunter's wild, outside-the-hospital skillset? Adam had already called out how ridiculous it was. Cristina and Adam were from the same class—after a year and a half, almost two, what hadn't she seen? Back during the cruise ship disaster, with its gruesome chaos rivaling any battlefield, Adam had stolen the show in front of the whole country. She'd been there too, guided by Adam over the phone on how to drill into a skull. That was a real performance.
Now, this urban soldier king was sticking pens in tracheas and stitching himself up without anesthesia like it was some big deal. Sure, it was surprising at first—but then it was just funny.
And their values? Doctors, by nature, tend to be anti-war. With Adam shining like a brilliant sun by her side, Cristina had long since developed a deeper understanding of American soldiers, whether she realized it or not. In the original timeline, Hunter's soldier-king-medic-returning-to-the-city vibe would've had female doctors swooning left and right. But now? It just got a quiet chuckle.
Meanwhile, in another room…
Dr. Shepherd was being called in for a consult by Callie, the chief resident of orthopedics.
"Spinal compression from C6 to T1, pressing on the spinal cord," Shepherd said, studying the CT scan. "We need to go into the spine and relieve as much pressure as we can. With an injury like this…"
"It's definitely gonna leave me crippled," the patient cut in with a bitter, self-mocking tone.
"Phil, don't say that!" his friend, an elderly woman in a formal dress, said, her voice full of pity. "Doctors, you've got to figure something out. Phil's tough—he's got grandkids!"
"You could freeze him!"
Just as Shepherd was about to offer some comfort, a voice piped up from the doorway. Everyone turned to see a soldier in camo standing there, talking confidently. "That is, if you still want him to see himself stand again someday."
"Excuse me for a sec," Shepherd said to the patient before stepping outside with Callie. He frowned at Hunter. "Who are you?"
Doctors hate it when someone contradicts them in front of family—it undermines their authority.
"The troublemaking medic," Cristina said as she walked over, throwing in a jab.
"I don't want you giving my patient and his family false hope that'll just fall apart," Shepherd warned.
"Unless you've done everything you can," Hunter cut in, spotting Cristina watching and realizing this doctor was clearly her superior. He doubled down, "Until it falls apart, it's still hope."
(End of Chapter)