A/N: Takes place between episodes 9 and 10. I'm new to this, but I fell in love - (perhaps obsessed is a better word for it) - with the show and binge watched over my weekend.

This came to me on my lunch break, so I thought I'd put the first part up and finish the second part this evening so it'll be a two parter.

Please let me know your thoughts. :)

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"The patient in triage four needs ten milligrams of oxycodone and at least ten stitches." Claire called to the retreating back of another nurse as she cornered the hall. The harsh hospital lights basked the hallway in a yellow haze, magnifying the imperfections of Metro General. Shuffling her sore legs to the clerk's desk, Claire felt a buzzing against her thigh. Peeking the phone a bit out from behind the fabric of her royal scrubs, she sighed heavily at the numbers that were glowing. Matt.

He had called earlier and left a message - one that had left her reduced to a mess of hot tears and heaving sobs - she didn't have time answer now, especially with the ER filled with seemingly every inhabitant of Hell's Kitchen. Claire had reached the clerk's desk, grabbing the stack of charts from behind the desk phone, and eased herself gently into the chair. Clicking open the pen, she nearly began to mark the form when she felt the familiar vibration against her thigh. Oh, for Christ's sake. Forcefully fishing the phone out of her deep pocket, Claire cursed in response to the name that crossed the screen once more.

"Matt, I just can't pick up whenever you call, you kno—"

"Hello?" An unfamiliar and tentative voice breathed heavily on the other end of the line and Claire felt her heart suddenly begin to hammer a cadence against her sternum. That was definitely most not Matt.

"Who the hell is this?" Claire whispered hoarsely into the receiver, quickly standing up and pushing the rolling office chair back. Her breathing shortened as she quickly walked down and through ER doors, stepping into the fine mist that was spraying from the sky above. There was a long pause on the other end and she could hear the other voice whisper a loud fuck and then followed by a long moan.

"Is this … is this the nurse?" Another shuffle and a deep rattling breath. Panic seized up in Claire's chest, gripping her heart and lodging it into the back of her throat.

"Who the hell is this? Where is Matt?" The shrillness of her words left her mouth before she could think through the consequences of using his name again.

"He's here - he told me to call you. I can't stop the bleeding." The man's voice trailed off into a panicked heave and again the phone shuffled.

"Where?"

"His apartment. Hurry, please. Hurry."

Claire took a deep calming breath and readjusted the phone to her ear as she began to run towards Matt's apartment.

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Flattening her palm against the wooden door, Claire heaved back her emotions in one last breath. Her hand barely graced the frame when the door swung open revealing a man with longer blond hair, who quickly spun on his heels back towards the open living area of Matt's apartment. The lone lamp of the living room had been haphazardly moved closer to middle of the room and it was then that she saw his prone figure laying with his arms spread open.

"Jesus…I need you to grab the kit that he has in his bathroom. Now." Her voice was steady, but her insides clenched as she took in the sight before her. Matt's dark locks lay clumped and matted against his forehead where a sheen of sweat and blood had combined. The dark blood starkly stood out against the pallor of his skin, the blue haze of the Jumbotron enshrouding his form. The man sputtered for a moment as if to ask how she knew about the kit before he snapped his jaw shut and moved.

Kneeling next to Matt, Claire felt her heart once again drop. His snugly fitting black thermal clung to his chest, saturated with a sticky dampness. Two large shreds in the material exposed mottled flesh and striated muscle beneath. The cuts were deep and still oozing deep ruby blood. His eyes were closed, his left nearly swollen shut. Even in the dark light, Claire could see a deep bruise already forming beneath the blood. Gently placing two fingers against his pulse point in his neck, Claire suppressed a shudder at the coldness of his skin. His pulse was thready - irregular - and scared the living hell out of her. He was losing too much blood. His chest moved slowly, a hoarse rattling echoing through the acoustics of the open room.

"Matt, can you hear me? I need to know if you can hear me." Her hand cupped his chin, bringing her own face within inches of his own. She could hear his breathing hitch and a second later his eyes fluttered open, revealing bloodshot hazel orbs gazing unseeing towards the ceiling. His arm shot forwards and clutched her wrist, a grimace of pain and another low moan escaping his cracked lips.

"Claire?" It came out as a whisper, almost a plea.

"I'm here. I need you to stay awake for me, okay?" His eyes had begun to flutter shut once more and in response Claire gently nudged his chin towards her. The effect was a cry of pain but his eyes once again snapped open. She could hear the other man in the back room, and then a large crash, before he came hurdling once more around the broken window frame. A kit was clutched in his hand yet he seemed hesitant to move any closer.

"Is this what he does?" His voice sounded angry. Betrayed. Hurt.

"I need you to focus and help me, okay? What is your name?" She saw Matt tilt his head towards the other man, another wince crossing his bloodied features.

"Foggy. My name is Foggy and I thought that I was his friend." It came out as a whisper, but she had already turned her attention back towards Matt. The knees of her scrubs were damp with the blood that had seeped from his body and across the hard floor. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves she fished from her pocket, Claire gingerly touched his cheek once more.

"Foggy, I—" His words were clipped, strained, and ended with a cough that wracked his frame.

"Matt, tell me where it hurts. Are you injured on your back?"

The kit came into her field of vision and she pulled the scissors out from the pocket and began to cut away at the thin fabric, exposing his chest.

"Jesus fucking Christ…What in the hell, Matt?" Foggy shouted, his hands flying to cover his mouth. Slinging the shredded fabric the side, Claire gently fingered the flesh on his side and lifted to get a better view of his back.

A thunderous scream erupted from Matt's lips, ending abruptly almost as soon as it began. Quickly letting go, Claire's attention snapped to his slack face. His eyes had closed and short small breaths were released in harsh gasps for a few seconds before…nothing.

"Matt? Matt!"