A patch

Elizabeth amazed Lauren, to be totally honest. Lauren had no idea how she’d convinced everyone to go to the karaoke night in the first place, let alone how she’d managed to turn it into a sort of tradition. Lord knew Reynolds had been trying to achieve the same for years, unsuccessfully. And while Lauren loved to see him bitter and steam coming out of his ears every month, here’s what she didn’t get:  

“Why do we keep coming to a bar where one of the barmen tried to kill half of our staff?” she asked Casey who was sitting by her side on a stool, elbows resting on the counter. In the background, Iggy was wailing to “Changes” by David Bowie, completely jamming poor Gladys.

Casey raised his drink and swirled it so ice clanked against the walls of the glass. 

“Half-price drinks. The owner feels guilty.” He shrugged and took a fair gulp. 

“So no benefits for me.” 

“Your coke is also half price,” he noticed.

“Ah, yeah,” she agreed sarcastically. “Not like it’s still two times cheaper in a Target.” 

Casey looked askance at her. 

“What’s up your ass tonight? U thought you loved to roast everybody’s terrible vocals. And perform in a duo with your handsome best friend,” he added and pointed at himself with his thumb, giving her his most beaming, overdone grin. Lauren snorted and looked to the side to hide a small hint of a smile ghosting over her lips. Somehow this idiot always cracked her up, breaking through even the grumpiest of her moods. 

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Casey announced, standing up briskly. “I'm gonna go choose the most atrocious, cheesy song in the world and if you want, you can join me. And if not, I’m dragging Walsh over there. It's time he stops getting away with all these lame excuses. Either way, you’ll have some entertainment. You’re welcome.” 

Lauren raised her glass and tipped it slightly for a toast. 

“Have fun, kids.” 

“Cheers.” Casey clanked his own glass against hers and downed what was an awful mix of tequila and ginger beer, grimacing notably. 

“Aye aye.” Lauren sneered at his face and tippled her coke as well. They’d been here an hour and he was already so tipsy. 

Casey saluted merrily and walked away on wobbly legs, Lauren’s only slightly strained chuckle escorting him to the stage. He didn’t see the way her little smile faded away the moment he was far enough. Or knew that, even though she had no desire nor intention to join him with the mood she was in, at the same time, she wished for him to stay and for his babble to occupy her just a moment longer. That was precisely why she’d decided to go out tonight to start with. Lately the silence in her apartment seemed to kinda close in on her, overwhelming with the room it formed for her thoughts to wander and run wild. Lauren was suffocating in all that empty space, questions and doubts racing each other in her head. 

And now that she was alone, she could feel them creep in again. 

What Reynolds had said made sense on paper, but, as much as Lauren ached to test his theory, she just couldn’t see how that arrangement would be healthy for either of them. Besides, even if Reynolds was right, that was probably before that cursed fight. Before Lauren made Leyla think she didn’t care about her. There was no way in hell Leyla wanted to see her ever again after that. Even more so if Patricia told Leyla how awful Lauren’d been to her during their little encounter downstairs. 

Lauren groaned under the weight of her concerns and hid her face in her hands, spiraling into the mess that her life had suddenly become. Her chest and stomach felt like they’d been carved out with an ice cream scoop, just a huge yawning hole left in the wake.

“Had enough?” 

A voice reached Lauren, weirdly near and calm in the noise and turmoil of the place. It couldn’t be someone from the hospital - they were all by the stage and speaking in raised high shrieks. She lifted her head, unfocused eyes squinting. For a moment, she had trouble finding the source of the voice, unsure whether it was even meant for her. But then she noticed a man standing in a half-shadow behind the bar, a subtle smile on his face assuring Lauren he was very much talking to her. He had sandy blonde hair, keen gaze and some stubble on his chin. 

“Huh?” Lauren grunted, not catching up to what he was referring to. Her mind was like a bowl full of sticky, sluggish oatmeal. She was too tired for this. 

The barman pointed at her drink. 

“My shift has just started but Zach has been pouring you nothing but plain coke ever since I got here. Had enough? He cut you off, huh? He always does it too soon, you don’t look hammered, maybe…” he reflected on his next words, “Just a bit rough around the edges.” 

“Eee, thank you, I guess? If that was a compliment?” Lauren replied dubiously, trying to sense what exactly this guy’s deal was. “And no, I hadn’t had enough. I just don’t drink. Like at all.”

“Then what are you doing in a bar?” 

Lauren shot a quick glance behind her shoulder where Casey was having the time of his life with “Hey, soul sister” and Walsh looked more miserable than when Lauren assigned him to kids’ cases in the ED. 

“Ahh,” the barman sighed with understanding, polishing a glass with a towel. “You with the doctors?” 

“Yep.” 

“What kind are you?” 

“What?” Lauren was really out of it today which wasn’t hard to notice. He definitely did. A smirk that sprawled across his lips strangely suited his kind face.

“What kind of a doctor are you?” he repeated, amused but not teasing. 

“Ah… Emergency medicine.” 

The barman whistled in acknowledgment. 

“Tough job,” he remarked. The comment sounded off-hand and casual on the surface but deeper, paired with his observant gaze and encouraging smile, it carried an open space left for Lauren to fill. 

Lauren narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Listen, I know what you’re trying to do and I appreciate the whole barman-therapist talk but I’d rather not. I had so many people pick and delve in my problems and preach at me lately, I kinda had enough venting for a lifetime.” 

His smile didn’t falter at all at her words. 

“Sure,” he changed course cheerfully. He looked simply happy to talk, no matter the topic, and it was… surprisingly nice, Lauren wasn’t going to lie. “I’m Timmy. Doctor…?” 

“Bloom. But Lauren’s fine.” 

“Okay, Lauren.” Timmy refilled her glass, his smile widening. “I have to admit, you guys are kinda weird. We all know the story, even the newbies like myself. So tell me, why do you keep coming here?”

“I guess because public hospitals don’t pay much and drinks are half-price here for us.” Lauren shrugged. “Maybe I shouldn’t talk to you, given this place’s history of hiring doctor-killing barmen.” 

Timmy chuckled, both surprised and pleased at the appearance of a joke. Lauren was surprised too, she didn’t know where it came from. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t indeed.” 

Another thing that surprised Lauren was how easy he made it to think about something that wasn’t her miserable situation. There was this smooth flow between them and talking to him eased a bit of tension that hadn’t left her in weeks, even though they weren’t exactly touching on fascinating topics. Maybe it was because he was a stranger and therefore didn’t search for sadness in Lauren all the time, didn’t pry or dissect her issues like she was a specimen under a microscope. It was refreshing. She didn’t even realize she needed that. Maybe she should stop making it her friends’ problem every time something happened. 

One song turned into another and then another without Lauren’s notice. The night was slipping away while her friends screamed their hearts out and she chatted with Timmy and sipped on her coke, only occasional glances cast towards the rest of the room whenever Timmy served a customer. 

Late into the night, one of those glances revealed Casey making his way towards her, panting and even drunker than the last time she’d seen him. 

“What’s up, Doctor Bloom?” He grinned and slapped her right between her shoulder blades. “I’ve been watching the two of you. Getting some, I see? Good for you,” he teased and nudged her with an elbow. Lauren snorted at the way he was slurring his words. How much alcohol had they poured into him? 

“I was just schmoozing out of boredom. He’s not my type.” 

“Yes, obviously,” Casey admitted. “Your type is short, dark hair, a doctor…” he listed and ticked off every word with a raised finger. 

Lauren rolled her eyes instead of gracing him with an answer that would further fuel the jokes. 

“Hey, my guy!” Casey called to Timmy who saved Lauren by emerging from the door that probably led to the storage. “Can I get some Scotch?” 

Timmy looked him up and down, very slowly and very dubiously. 

“I don’t think so, my guy,” he gave away his assessment. “Pretty sure you’ve had enough.”

“I second that,” Lauren added. 

The grin on Casey’s face didn’t budge. “Can I have something that looks like Scotch, then?” 

“Apple juice it is,” Timmy said, winked at Lauren and went back to where he’d come from. 

Casey flung himself onto the stool next to Lauren, almost falling to the ground in the process, then laid all his weight on the bar after catching his balance. 

The night was very clearly crashing down and nearing an end. Everyone seemed completely spent, getting into more or less comfortable positions on various pieces of furniture. The gaps between each serenade prolonged and became more prominent. The barmen weren’t summoned as often. 

And with the night, Lauren came crashing down too. It was good while it lasted but the fatigue caught up with her. The vision of tomorrow wore her down and put the old weight back on her shoulders as the time to come back to her empty apartment and, eventually, to work crept in. She sagged under the reality of it and laid next to Casey the same way he did. 

For the first time in a while, she discovered she simply didn’t know what to do, not even the slightest idea. For her, there was no feeling worse than helplessness. She was an ED doctor, it was her job to handle crisis and decide on the next step - having control was what kept her sane. The thing was, this wasn’t something she could weasel, work or buy her way out of and it was scary and jarring. 

Was Reynolds right? Should she go see Leyla? Was there even anything to save? Or was it too late because once again Lauren was set in her old ways and had made too big of a mistake? How would she even begin to apologize? If it all somehow worked out, how would she handle being near Leyla again? Was it right and healthy to try to fix things? Or should she let it die and wait until the pang in her heart and remorse somehow fade, even though they were burrowed in so deep they felt like they were a part of her? 

Lauren sighed and hid her heavy, throbbing head into her folded arms. 

“Am I a bad person?” 

The words kinda sprang out of her mouth before she could even fully process them or think better of it. It wasn’t her intention to bum for another lecture. Quite the opposite actually - she never wanted to hear another one again - but she was just so so tired, she had no strength left to soften the blow and hush Casey up. 

“Bad? Nah. Reckless? Maybe. Stubborn? Yes absolutely. Abrasive? So so much. But not bad.” 

Lauren hoped he’d take her silence as an eloquent sign to not dwell on the subject. It seemed like drunk Casey wasn’t very tactful though. 

“You’re not a bad person, okay?” he assured, his voice taking on a much softer note, warm hand squeezing Lauren's arm. Despite herself, Lauren's walls trembled a little at the gesture. “You care a whole fucking lot, Lauren. Even about strangers. It shows in the way you fight for every single patient. And you care even more for the people you love.”

“So what? Nothing good ever comes out of me caring,” Lauren uttered, muffled with her face still hidden.

“That’s not true,” Casey sternly denied right away, then took a moment to pierce his words together carefully. “I think you just have a problem with letting go. Letting people handle things on their own. But that also comes from a good place. It’s like you wish to ease struggling and make things simple for others. But Lauren, some things just aren’t and can’t be simple. However cheesy that sounds - life ain’t easy and you know it. No matter how hard you’re gonna try, you won’t make it all rainbows and butterflies.” 

There were a few seconds when his words hang between them. Then Lauren looked up at him timidly. She was opening her mouth, just about to answer, but what she was going to say Casey was never going to find out because that same moment they heard a loud clunk and thud. Their heads twisted in the direction of the sound and, in no time at all, Lauren was over the bar and at Timmy’s side where he was lying on the floor. 

“Timmy? What hurts? Can you hear me?” Lauren shot an array of collected questions, feeling for his pulse with two fingers. “Unconscious. Got a pulse but it’s too fast.” 

Casey joined her quickly but Lauren cast him a warring over Timmy’s body. 

“Casey, you need to back off. You basically downed a whole bottle.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Casey remembered himself and took two steps back. 

“Is there anyone here who isn’t pissed out of their minds?” Lauren yelled. “Get me someone, Casey,” she ordered when it became clear the thumping of music was louder than her voice. Casey ran off without any hesitation while Lauren poked out her phone from a pocket of her too-tight jeans. Her hands were steady while she tapped three quick numbers. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

Lauren put the phone on speaker and in the meantime, attempted to examine Timmy as best as she could with the poor lighting and no equipment. 

“Doctor Bloom from New Amsterdam here. I got a guy in his thirties, suddenly fell, got a pulse but it’s irregular. He’s unresponsive. The airways are clear. Pupils reactive. I need an ambulance.” 

“What the hell is going on?” The other barman - Zach, Timmy had called him - emerged from the back, shock written all over his face. 

“Do you know his medical history? Any chronic conditions or recent problems?” Lauren asked once she finished talking to the dispatch department. 

“No. I mean I don’t-” he started fumbling, his gaze jumping from his coworker to Lauren. 

“Focus!” Lauren urged him. “It’s important.” 

Before Zach could muster something up, Lauren’s attention was snagged towards the sound of someone’s hurried steps. Doctor Flores trotted behind the bar, her brows pinched. 

“What do you need?” she asked, dropping to her knees beside Lauren. 

“I think it may be his heart. His pulse is fast and erratic.”

Flores found the right place on Timmy’s neck right away and pursed her lips in focus, assessing. 

“Do we know if he has any history of heart diseases?” she asked, keeping her fingers in place to monitor the pulse. 

“Wait, wait!” Zach exclaimed fervently. “I remember now! He takes these pills!” 

“Does he have them here?”

“I can check his locker?” 

“Go!” Lauren barked. Zach scurried off, almost failing to cut a corner. He came back with an orange bottle. 

“Here.” He tossed it to Flores. 

“Dixogin,” Flores announced. 

“Cardiomyopathy?” Lauren suggested. 

“Check his legs.” 

Lauren pulled the legs of his pants up, revealing his ankles red and swollen. 

“Cardiomyopathy,” Flores confirmed. “Dilated, probably. Is the ambulance coming?”

“Yes, I called them right away.” 

“What can we do?” Zach chipped in, voice strangled and face pale as a ghost. He looked like he was about to join Timmy on the floor. 

“Do you have an AED in this place? Or anyone near?” Flores’ tone was strong and calm, each syllable pronounced clean-cut and sharp, even though Lauren knew she couldn’t feel confident with a patient in such a serious condition and basically no means to help. At least it worked for Zach. Eager to do something, his erratic eyes focused on Flores as he nodded fiercely. “Okay, we will need it if he goes into cardiac arrest. Get it for me.”

Zach disappeared for longer this time, breathing heavily when he came back. 

“Why did this happen?” he asked while Lauren opened up the AED. 

“My guess he either stopped taking his meds-” 

“No, impossible. I saw him take them today,” Zach interrupted Lauren. 

“Then maybe he caught some infection, didn’t get enough rest or drinks too much. There are many risk factors, none of which we can confirm unless we get him to a hospital,” Flores explained.  

Lauren looked at Timmy, a sliver of worry biting into her usual alert and collected work demeanor. Sure, she knew him for all of four hours but he seemed like a good guy and he made her feel better, even if just for a moment. Lauren wished there was something she could do now to repay for that. 

“You need something, Flores?” Reynolds called from behind the bar where all the staff were waiting and trying to get a peek. 

“Not from your drunk ass!” Flores shouted back. 

Her words almost synchronized with the bang of the door as the paramedics rushed inside with a stretcher and a bag. Lauren breathed with relief but they weren’t out of the woods yet.

“Over here!”

Lauren shook off all her feuds and insecurities. Rolled up her sleeves. And got to work. Like she always did. 

***

The rising sun rendered the ICU quiet and filled with sallow beams of light as Lauren shuffled through its hallways, passing rooms with sleeping patients, hands deep into the pockets of her coat. The peace seemed strange to her after the night she’d had. She almost felt out of place walking slowly and shushing her voice but also had no strength to muster up something more. 

Once she was done here, she would gladly sleep the whole day away. 

After the paramedics had quickly done what they could for Timmy, Lauren was happy to leave flores to it, letting her have a seat in the ambulance and opting for getting their drunk friends home instead. She called Martin for Iggy, put Reynolds in a cab and shoved Walsh and Casey into her new car. By the time they arrived at Casey’s apartment, where Walsh was also crashing, they had fallen asleep and Lauren had to help them upstairs, not trusting they wouldn’t crack their heads open on the stairs, being both drunk and sleepy. The whole time she so wished for her soft bed but there was one more thing to do. 

That was how she’d ended up in New Amsterdam at the crack of dawn. 

“Oh, Doctor Bloom!” Somebody gently took Lauren’s elbow, pulling her short. A nurse, somewhere after her fifties, sent Lauren a grin way too radiant for such an early hour. Her salt-and-pepper hair was swept back in a ponytail, except for a few strands falling on her forehead freely. 

“Hi, Cristal,” Lauren greeted her, not quite able to show the same enthusiasm but letting some resemblance of a smile curl the line of her mouth. 

“Are you here for Leyla?” Cristal asked, a bit confused. She was an ICU nurse and one of Lauren's favorite coworkers so naturally, she also became her mole, quite happily too. Lauren always liked her kindness and the solid job she was doing here. 

“No, no.” Lauren shook her head. “I'm just checking on a patient. A barman had a cardiac event while we were out. They brought him in not so long ago.” 

“Ahh, yes. Come, I will take you to him," Cristal offered. Lauren thanked her and followed the nurse to the doorstep of Timmy’s room. She leaned on the frame, sighing heavily. He was sleeping, his face less pale and more peaceful. From what Lauren had heard, he was going to be okay for now but they had yet to find out what had caused this. 

Cristal lingered by her side, only breaking the silence after a few minutes: 

“You want some updates on Leyla while you’re here? I haven't seen you around for some time.”

Lauren's breath caught in her throat and she hung her head. Her eyes wandered in the direction Leyla’s room was, skin tingling at the very thought of seeing her. It’d be so easy to take Cristal up on that offer and fall back into old habits, just a simple yes was enough. Fighting it was such a strain. Lauren felt like she hadn’t taken a rest in days. 

Her voice came out quiet as she tore her gaze away and looked back at the nurse. 

“No, thank you, Cristal.” Lauren stood straight, ready to walk away. “Just take care of him, alright? He seems like a good guy.” 

If Cristal was surprised, she didn’t let it show. 

“Of course, Doctor Bloom.”