Hey everyone, this is crystal rose coming back with a second fic. I hope this one is as good as my first story, The Road to Hell, but if it's not, just know that I tried, k? This is an alternate reality story, which means, no senshi, no supernatural enemies and not all the senshi will be included. SM isn't mine, and besides, I have no money to give.



Darien Shields paced impatiently in the hospital waiting room, beside himself with worry. Beside him, his mother Candace Shields sat anxiously, waiting for the doctor to come with news about her husband, Walter, who just suffered a massive stroke.

'What could be taking them so long?' thought Darien. 'It's been hours since we brought dad in and we haven't even seen the doctor since.' He glowered, his deep blue eyes seemingly getting darker as the clock struck another hour.

Finally, the doors burst open and a tired looking doctor emerged, removing her surgical mask and cap. Upon seeing her, Darien stopped his pacing and Candace stood up, each afraid of what the doctor would have to say.

"Dr. Anderson," Candace began nervously. "How is my husband?"

"He is stable now. Mr. Shields, as you may have already guessed, had a stroke. It's not clear at the moment how much his neurological and motor faculties have been damaged, if at all, but I would highly recommend getting a physical therapist to help him with his day-to-day functions," replied Dr. Amy Anderson.

"That's all you have to say to us? You don't know how badly damaged my father is after being with him for five hours? Now you want to pass your job off to a physical therapist?" cried Darien incredulously, ignoring his mother's warning hand on his arm, or the low shushes she whispered in his ear.

"Unfortunately Mr. Shields, your father was unconscious at the time I was in surgery with him, so I could not be sure what else was wrong with him. I only suggest having a physical therapist to help him get back to his normal routine. Some stroke victims usually need some time to relearn how to do the simplest tasks and that's where a physical therapist comes in. His or her job would be to work with your father at his own pace, to build up his muscle strength as well as to help him recover his cognitive skills that he may have lost as a result of the stroke," Dr. Anderson explained wearily, brushing her blue-black hair out of her eyes. She had just been in surgery for four and a half hours and her shift was over a long time ago. (AN: I only know a little bit about strokes, and what happens when you have one, so don't get all uppitiy if my explanations aren't up to par with your medical encyclopedias : )

Candace relaxed her hold of Darien's arm as she considered the doctor's words. "Do you have anyone in mind as his therapist, doctor?"

Dr. Anderson hesitated for a minute. "Well, I do know someone, but I don't know if she's able to take your case-"

"What do you mean 'if she's able to take your case?'" interrupted Darien. "Why won't she be able to? Is it the money? If it is, I'll pay her double what she's earning now, plus let her have accommodations in our house."

"No I can assure you, it's not about the money Mr. Shields. As I was saying, I don't know if she's able to take your case because she lives in Toronto and I don't know how she would feel about moving all the way to LA."

"Canada?" asked Darien.

"Why are you recommending someone from so far away? Surely there's someone else closer to here?" Candace interjected.

"What makes this physical therapist more special than the ones in California?" asked Darien.

"Well, I don't know if she's more special than the ones here in California, but from what her former patients have told me, she's a miracle worker. She is able to connect with her patients in a way that no other therapist can. I've known this woman for fourteen years; she's a close friend of mine. She's graduated at the top of her Kinesiology class at Queen's University, a very prestigious school in Canada. I don't know of anyone better than her," Amy replied, pride surging in at her best friend's accomplishments.

"Get her."

"But Mr. Shields, I just told you, she lives in Toronto and I don't know if-"

"I said get her. Why would you build up your friend's reputation if you knew you couldn't get her? So my mother and I would know what we could've had once we hire a second rate physical therapist?" Darien said, narrowing his eyes dangerously. "Let me make myself clear, Dr. Anderson. The Shields family is a major benefactor of this hospital. In fact, the only reason you got that new equipment for the neo-natal unit is because of the influence we have in this city. My mother sits on the board of directors and Shields Financial is one of the major sponsors of the oncology department at this hospital. Get the girl, and we won't pull our money out of this hospital, you got that?"

Amy sighed and nodded. "I'll do the best I can."

"Good. Now, can you kindly point us in the direction of my father's room so we could pay him a visit?" Darien said, happy that he was getting his way. He led his mother to his father's room, listening to her rebuking him for speaking to the doctor that way with only half an ear.

Amy watched mother and son walk away before turning in the opposite direction to head back to her office. Once there, she removed her stethoscope and threw it haphazardly on the couch. She sank her tired body in her leather swivel chair and dialed a familiar long-distance number on her phone.

"Serena? Hi, it's Amy....Yeah, I know it's been a long time since we've last visited each other...Uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah I miss you too. Listen, I have a huge favour to ask you..."


So, what do you think so far? I know this story sounds a little cliché right now, but for those of you who have read my other story, you'll know that this is how I work. I work with the clichés and turn it into something that's totally my own, I hope. I'm a total review whore so please send in your comments, and try to cut down on the flames, k? I'm not flame retardant.