Disclaimer: I own nothing here- not the setting or the characters. They belong to Brenda and Co. The only things that are mine are the events and the ever-popular Dr. George.

You should know: This story is circa Season 8 I guess. I don't think I precise date is al that necessary with this one. Now, I could tell you what was going on, but what fun would that be? None at all. Only thing I am saying is, yet again, there is no Carlos. Everything else you will be forced to figure out on your own. Deal with it; embrace it loyal readers.

Paging Dr. George

Wilson West walked through the corridors of one of the two hospitals in the ever-growing small town of GlenOak, California. He seemed to be truly indifferent to anything going on around him. When people usually go to the hospital, it is to see a sick friend or relative. In general, these are not pleasant meetings, and are filled with anxiety and sadness. His trip, however, had started out as a happy one. Innocently enough, Wilson's excursion was to see his older brother, his idol, who had just become a doctor here only four short months ago.

He walked through the halls thinking happy thoughts and reminiscing about playing with his brother in their backyard when they were just boys. Thinking about his sibling, though, made him think of his father, and then of his mother, so he quickly stopped thinking altogether. It was too painful for him to manage at the moment.

When he walked toward the hospital nursery, Wilson heard someone else in pain as well. Whoever they were, they sounded as if they were crying their eyes out. It was not a pleasant day at the hospital for them. Under further inspection, however, Wilson recognized the crying. For whatever reason, he knew the sound of those tears.

Wilson stopped in the middle of the drab strip and turned down the one that the nursery was on, determined to seek out the origin of the familiar wailing. When he reached his destination, he saw none other than a proverbial twenty-two year old woman. Brown hair, not blonde, and about seven pounds heavier, it was still unambiguous who he saw.

He made his way over to her, undetected, and stood at her side. He waited a while before he said anything, afraid to make the first move and even more afraid to make contact with her again. The ups and down of their past relationship still haunted him in his sleep, so he was a little more than apprehensive about speaking.

Nevertheless, he had to say something.

"Hi," he said plainly. A normal person would ask the other's name, just to make sure that it was who they thought it was. Wilson found no need for that. Standing next to her, she was unmistakable. It was almost as if they had never been apart. When she finally looked up at him, he realized though that he was wrong. Not wrong about the woman's identity, mind you, but it seemed as if they were miles and miles away from each other as they traveled on their own paths. Before, it always felt as if they were traveling together somehow.

"Wilson?" she asked him. It was not that she didn't know who he was, but unlike him she needed the confirmation. It had certainly been a while, and in her frazzled state she had to admit that her brain was not functioning at its full capacity. Many would argue that it never operated at its full capacity, but that was another issue entirely.

He nodded for confirmation. The real question, though, was where to go from here. As he stared at her, he remembered why he was standing next to her in the first place. "Are you all right?"

Quickly she wiped her eyes. In the shock of seeing him again, she had completely forgotten how wet her cheeks must have been. "I'm fine."

"You know Mary, you never were a good liar."

"Yeah, well…" she responded. She wanted to flash smile at him; the thought of him still knowing her so well made her blush. However, she wasn't in the right state of mind to flirt with anyone. Even to Mary Camden, flirting seemed to be so arbitrary in the midst of her less than perfect life. She had to admit, though, that his presence intrigued her. From the moment he saw her, possible scenarios of why he was here ran through her mind. The next course of action, decidedly so, was to ask him his purpose. "So, what brings you here?"

Wilson thought for a moment. "Here as in GlenOak of here as in the hospital?"

Finally, Mary smiled. She couldn't help it. In all of this time he hadn't changed a bit; she still found him to be pleasantly charming and downright adorable. "Either one is fine with me."

"Well, my brother is a doctor here. Actually, he just started a few months ago, and this is the first chance I have had to come out and see him. Besides, he has kind of been begging me to come. My dad had a pretty severe heart attack about six months ago, and he still isn't doing too well. And my mom… isn't all that thrilled with my father anymore. My brother and I are afraid that she'll divorce him and he'll be left with no one. So, basically, I just came to check up on the family- see if it's really as bad as he keeps making it out to be. All the Wests have problems, except for me that is."

The mention of Wilson's last name threw up a red flag. Mary completely forgot about his last name. Usually, this information would have been unimportant, but linked with the information Wilson had provided prior to that, she could have a major problem- another major problem.  Before saying anything, Mary thought hard about his brother's first name, but she had no luck. He was 6 yeas older than Wilson, she knew that much, and had never met him. By the time the two of them were together, his brother was long gone- off to some fancy college Mary would have had to struggle to afford even with hefty scholarship. "What type of doctor did you say he was?"

"A gynecologic oncologist, if I am saying that correctly."

Mary smiled nervously when Wilson told her and threw her hands up in the air. She started to pace around the tiny hall, looking straight up at the paneled ceiling above them. "It figures, it just figures! After everything you've thrown at me, you have to add this into it! Why?! What could I have possibly done that was that bad?! Huh?!"

In the past, Wilson could recall many a time that Mary had confused him, but it was nothing compared to this. She was running around, shouting things at the ceiling. Mary had definitely hit an all-time low on the sanity front. "Whom are you talking to, exactly?"

"God," she replied hesitantly. Immediately she realized how haughty that must have come across to him. Once again, her father's occupation bit her in the butt.

"I didn't know you were one to talk aloud to God."

"I can talk to God if I want to talk to God. My father is a minister, in case you have forgotten, so if anyone should be talking aloud to God it should be me." Mary sighed and closed her eyes, feeling awful for snapping at him. Admittedly, the stress was starting to get to her, and she didn't like it one bit. She didn't like opening up to him this fast either. She knew all too well where this conversation was headed, and frankly that made her almost frightened as her reason for being in the hospital did. "Dr. George is your brother, isn't he?"

Wilson looked at her curiously. His brother had just told him that his patients and nurses affectionately called him by his first name nearly all of the time. According to him, practically the whole hospital was into it. "Yes. Why, do you know him?"

Mary heard his question, but refused to answer him. She thought that if maybe she could carefully evade his question, she would not have to answer it at all. She didn't want to have to answer it. Her connection to him was personal, embarrassing, and above all, a secret. "You know, he's such a nice man; a really good doctor. I should have known. Good things don't happen to me, they just don't."

Wilson was completely confused, but Mary's words sparked an idea in that handsome head of his. Finally, things were starting to piece together a little "You do know him. Yes…" he said studying her face, "you do."

"Look," Mary cut him off," I really have to go." She wiped her eyes again. "I have to get to work, and…I just have to go." She smiled nervously, trying to be courteous without puking all over the floor. She knew this would not be the last time she saw Wilson. Evidently, this day proved that there would never be a last time she would see Wilson. Whether it is a good thing or a bad thing, he was obviously in it for the long haul. "It was really nice to see you again." She had to make a break for it now. His mind-tricking capabilities were unyielding.

"Wait," he said as she turned her back on him, "can I at least have your number?" Mary grabbed a pen out of her purse, took Wilson's hand, and scribbled her cell phone number on his palm. She turned to leave, but he couldn't get her out of his mind. Mary was as infectious now as she had ever been. "You're not OK, are you?"

Mary couldn't help but laugh. It was by no means a funny situation that she was in, but she couldn't help but giggle not only at him but also at herself. Strangely enough, she found the whole thing very laughable. And, as Wilson's brother often told her, laughter is the best medicine. "Good bye Wilson!" she yelled out when she could no longer see him. She smiled yet again, positive that he was smiling with her at that very moment.

A/N: Now, anyone who has a medical type of brain probably has a better idea of what I am talking about than the average Joe Schmoe fic reader. The rest of you will have to wait for the action-packed second chapter. Oh, and also, no mushy-gushiness quite yet. Possibly later…but who knows? If you see any, feel free to slap me. After 13 stories, I deserve it. And also, this a little bit of a different style for me. I am trying to get away from dialogue. Have you ever picked up a classic American novel and found it to be all dialogue? Certainly not. So now my stuff is going to be more descriptive and wordy. Skimmers need not apply.

Reviews would be fab. You know you want to tell me what you think. How can you resist? ;)