That Thing Between Eli and Gwen(5)

By: J. J. McAvoy

Subject change, failed.

He said nothing else, angrily digging through the box. “Urgh, God, I want to kill him!” he yelled suddenly, punching his hand into the box.

“Logan!” I screamed and Taigi barked, but it was too late. He'd punched right into where the knives were packed.

“Agh, shit!” he shouted, clenching his now-bleeding hand.

Grabbing his hand, I turned on the water and tried to clean it.

“Damn, it’s too deep. I’m going to need stitches.” He flinched as I grabbed a clean towel and quickly wrapped it around the wound.

“Where are your keys? We have to go the hospital.” I looked around the countertop.

“It’s okay, I have a med kit in my car. I’m a doctor—”

“Being in medical school does not make you a doctor, Logan…at least, not one good enough to stitch up your own hand in my kitchen.” I waited for him to hand me the keys.

Frowning, he grabbed them from his pocket with his good hand and passed them to me before holding his hurt hand, which started to bleed. It was pretty bad, already soaking through the towel.

“Gwen, you’re honestly making too much of this—”

“Yep, we're going,” I said, seeing the blood run down his arm. I pulled him out of the apartment.


I had just finished my rounds and was handing a chart to the on-call nurse when she stopped me.

“Dr. Davenport, your brother was just brought in the ER—”

I didn’t even let her finish before running down the hall.

“Is everything all right, Dr. Daven—”

I ignored them, following the blue line on the ground toward the double doors leading into the ER. Scanning the beds, I stopped when I saw his black All-Stars shoes.

He sat on the bed, laughing as one of my residents stitched up his right hand.

“What happened?” I asked, already in front of them.

“Eli. I thought you were off—”

“What happened to your hand?”

“He punched my knives.”

I turned toward the voice. It took a second to recognize her, and the moment I did, more memories flooded my mind than I could handle.

She stood in the corner, holding Logan’s jacket.

“He….punched. Your knives?” I turned to my younger brother.

“It’s a long story,” he muttered.


“Honestly, it was an accident. I got him all hyped up, and—”

“Do you still need to be here?” I asked without looking at her.

“Eli.” Logan glared.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her stiffen.

“Sorry again, Logan. And thank you,” she said to him.

Logan grinned and nodded. “No, thank you. Please, use my car to go back home.”

“It’s fine, I'll call a taxi—”

“How else can I come back and make you my famous omelets?”

“Just work on getting better. See you around.” She gathered her things and left.

When she'd gone, he glared at me. “Did you really need to be such an ass?”

“Says the dummy who punched knives,” I said in return before following the girl out the front exit. I waited for her to finish giving her location to the taxi company and then stepped up in front of her. “Here.” I handed her a fifty. “Thank you for bringing him here.”

She looked at the money then back at me. “Do you often reward people with money for doing humane things?”

“Is fifty dollars really a reward?” I countered.

“You're a rich doctor. I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten my place.” She held out her hand and did a small curtsey. “Please, sir, may I have some?”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I gave her the money and turned to leave, but stopped when I noticed she took the bill, walked over to the donation box at the corner entrance of the hospital, and dropped it inside.

She moved back to her corner, looking out onto the street.

Sighing, I went back to her. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

She scoffed.

“Anyway,” I went on. “Thank you for bringing him here, but in the future, if you could just ignore him, I think that would be best for everyone.”

“You want me to ignore your brother?” she said slowly.