The night had been quiet, something that Celeste had been incredibly thankful for.  There had been precious little sleep on the thin mattress in her hostel, but the couch in the break room was comfortable and working doubles meant that she could choose to sleep on premises.   Rubbing her sore back, a sip was given of her coffee from where she stood in the sterile hall.  Charting on her tasks for the day, rather than behind the desk that meant that she couldn't hear any movement, she found the serenity almost calming.

Swift fingers soon pressed to the next screen - Chambers.  Using her pointer finger on the touch screen, she was soon enough re-reading over the man's Kardex.  The notes and injuries were extensive, prognosis was poor, and they had yet to properly address his mental state. 

POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS.

Those two words were common, but they felt like a slap in the face when she began to hear the shuffling inside of the darkened room.  Though she had stepped in to check his vitals and adjust his IVs, he had been peaceful.  He certainly wasn't now.  Pausing briefly at the door, her coffee was left atop the glove rack as she hurried within.  Monitors weren't screaming, but the rates were increased.  Soon enough, he would find the ceil blue of her scrubs at his side.

With his extensive injuries, the hand that touched him was on his chest, barely there.  "Easy, soldier."  Voice quiet with the monitors, she knew it sometimes helped in focusing attention from being scared and panicking.

"I'm right here, it's all right."  Reaching to his bed side table, the hand from his chest wrapped warmly around the back of his neck.  A Styrofoam glass with ice water was brought to him, the straw pressed between his lips to let him drink.  Putting it aside once he was done, his pillows were resettled behind his head. 

Leaning as close as she was, he could have scented both her perfume, warm and sweet, and the disinfectant on her scrubs.  Her badge had a glaring red RN at the bottom, a picture identifying her and her name, but in his panic and the darkness, it might have been impossible to identify. 

"Looks like they should have gotten you a touch pad," was murmured more to herself than him. Straightening from where she had been bent over, trained eyes assessed him and adjusted the pillow under his knee.  "I'll have to check if you can get more morphine."