Quarantine
Harry unlocked the door to his apartment and held the door open for his brother.
“I’m sorry about that. Charl said it was some sort of emergency.”
“So that’s what she said, aside from yelling about her sexuality?” Sam picked up an ornament that Harry had on the sideboard in the hall.
“Yeah. Put that down, I don’t want you smashing it,” Harry pried the ornament from his hands and put it down, before walking to the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”
“Have any beer?” Sam asked as he followed.
“No...I have gin and tonic though.”
“That’ll suffice, you really need to get some beer though, runt.”
“I live alone. I don’t like beer.”
“No wonder you aren’t getting laid.”
Harry slapped Sam on his arm. “Just because you like that doesn’t mean I do! And girls are easier anyway!”
“They are not!”
“Are too,” Harry passed Sam his drink. Sam took it and sashayed into the living room, narrowly avoiding tripping over the corner of the couch. Harry followed, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV as he did.
“Ew, what is this shit?” Sam reached for the remote. Harry held it out of his reach.
“You’ve has nothing to drink and you’re acting wasted...how?”
“That’s it on chaotic energy, baby,” Sam finger gunned and winked at Harry.
“You’re gross. I can’t wait till Charl gets here and puts you in your place.” Sam changed the channel and Harry sat grumpily on the edge of the couch. An hour and a half into some weird film, Harry heard the door go.
“I’ll get it - it’s probably the pizza delivery guy. You stay here.” He got up and pulled open the door. Stood outside was someone who definitely was not the pizza delivery dude. Shivering, Charlotte smiled shakily.
“It’s cold, baby bro. Let me in.”
***
When Charlotte was warmer, and had a drink, the three siblings sat in the living room together. Sam sprawled himself across the sofa. Harry chose to perch on the edge and Charlotte sat cross-legged on the beanbag opposite her brothers.
“So, what room so long?” Sam asked. He had had a couple of drinks at this point and was definitely a little tipsy.
“I had to diagnose something,” Charlotte said vaguely, taking a sip of her champagne. Harry normally only opened it for special occasions but he knew it was Charl’s favourite, and she looked pretty shaken.
“Something special?” Harry pressed.
“Yeah, you could say that...”
“She was sneaking off to snog the Müller girl, obviously!” Sam seemed delighted with his deduction. Charlotte blushed and threw a pillow at him.
“I did not go and snog Hana!”
“Hana? First name terms?” Sam wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“I hate you.”
“So, if you definitely weren’t getting it on with Dr. Müller...” Harry smirked. “What were you doing?”
Charlotte sighed and put her glass down. She drew her knees to her chest and stared off into the distance for a while.
“I diagnosed a case of a group V RNA virus.” she said eventually.
“And?” Harry looked at Sam and moved his glass away. Their brother was swinging his arms around erratically, trying to catch a fly that was buzzing around the room.
“Don’t you get it? Ebola has a treatment, flu was eradicated.”
Harry was silent, then realisation dawned on his face. Charlotte nodded grimly. “Yeah.”
“Rosalia?”
“And incredibly aggressive at that. My patient was barely good for the diagnosis, though now we know they might pull through tonight. They’ll probably have surgery in the morning though.”
“The haemorrhaging?”
“Vomiting blood, skin haemorrhaging, the lot.”
“Wow.”
“I’m too sober to think of what it means,” Charl lifted her drink to her lips and downed it.
“How do you even do that?”
“I don’t know. How’s he getting home?”
Harry looked at Sam, who was giggling. “He probably isn’t leaving. I’m not letting him attempt to get home alone like that.”
Charlotte nodded. “Good. Right, so about mom’s birthday...I called dad and he said next week is good, they took two days off.”
“So we’re gonna surprise her, I assume?”
“Of course.”
“Carrot cake?”
“It’s her favourite, but I was thinking maybe a few chocolate cupcakes as well? Dad said he might invite some of their coworkers.” Charlotte looked concernedly at Sam, who had fallen off the sofa in his attempt to catch the fly. He laughed and sat up.
“I’m okay! What’re we talking ‘bout?” He slurred.
“You’re drunk already? Lightweight.”
Sam frowned. “‘M not drunk. Just tipsy.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. Harry had his smirk from them both.
“I think it’s time for you to go to bed, Samuel.”
***
The next day, Harry woke up with a minor headache. He’d expected it, and lessened it with some aspirin. He walked into the living room, where Sam was passed out on the sofa, and flicked the lights on. His older brother groaned,
“Oh my god, don’t. My head.”
“Should’ve thought of that last night,” Harry placed a couple of tablets and a glass of water on the coffee table. “I need to get to work, the spare key is in the hall, leave it under the left corner of the mat closest to the door when you leave, okay?”
“It’s a Saturday,” Sam rolled his eyes and took the tablets. “Why the hell are you working?”
“People don’t stop needing surgery because it’s the weekend.”
“True,” Sam sat up and immediately slumped back down again.
“Be careful. Don’t break anything, please. I’m begging you.”
“It’ll be fine,” Sam said flippantly. “I don’t think I’ll be getting up for a couple hours anyway.”
Harry nodded and picked up the toast he made before leaving the apartment. He hurried down the stairs and to the bus stop. He arrived just as the bus pulled in. Following everyone else, he hopped on and took a seat.
***
“Dr. Blaylock-Vaughn!” Harry turned at the sounds of his boss’ voice. He’d barely stepped into Resurgam, how did Chief Müller find him so fast? Harry checked his watch. No, he wasn’t late. So why...?
“Can you come with me to the conference room? I need you for an emergency operation.”
Harry nodded slowly, not following. “Why me? Why not someone more practiced?”
Erhard sighed. “Just come. Please.”
Harry followed his boss into the conference room. Inside, Nurses Wilson and Sellers were stood, discussing something and looking at a clipboard. Erhard cleared his throat as they arrived.
“Ahem.”
“Dr. Müller!” Darnell’s British accent sounded odd to Harry. He’d never really been exposed to accents other than different American ones - of course, he had in films but he knew that wasn’t often what actual British people sounded like.
“Please brief us on the operation. Dr. Blaylock-Vaughn will be performing.”
“Right away, sir. The patient came into Resurgam Emergency Department last night. We transferred them to Dr. Blaylock-Vaughn- um, the other one - for a diagnosis. She diagnosed them with the group V RNA virus called Rosalia.”
“Woah, woah,” Harry put his hands up. All heads in the room turned to him. “First off this is the Rosalia patient?!”
“Did Dr. Blaylock-Vaughn tell you?”
“Of course, it’s just - I’ve never treated it! Or seen it, not even in training. How am I meant to do this?”
Erhard put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll guide you through it. It’s quite simple.”
Harry nodded nervously. Great. Why was he getting dragged into the Rosalia mess? Next thing they knew, Sam would be getting involved.
“The objective of the operation is to remove the foci,” Darnell continued. “Please keep in mind that you will have to search for foreign objects that pass through the stomach. Do not let them touch the focus.”
“Understood,” Harry said. “Shall we go?”
Dr. Müller nodded, his face grave. “May this disease finally pass from this world, and let little Rose rest peacefully...”
***
The operation lasted five hours. It was longer than anyone had expected and Harry did need to use his Healing Touch in the end. The disease had progressed far further than they originally anticipated but, with Chief Müller’s help, Harry managed to pull off the operation.
“Well done, Dr. Blaylock-Vaughn,” Erhard said as they came out of surgery. In the conference room, the TV was on a news channel. A team of doctors and nurses were stood in front of it, watching. That was the problem with having the conference room in the staff room. Harry recognised his sister’s face, Hana Müller, Dr. Williams from the EMT and Juliet Freebird from orthopaedics.
“-there have been an increased number of Rosalia patients in the past month, though they have been kept under wraps. However, due to a sharp spike in cases seemingly overnight we have been told the state may have to go into quarantine soon. Back to you in the studio, Clark.”
Someone switched the TV off. The room was silent for a while, then everyone simultaneously turned to look at Erhard. Since Harry was standing next to him, he was also stared at. He stood uncomfortably, not wanting to move lest he drew more attention to himself, but not wanting to be there.
“Vater? What’re we going to do?” Hana asked.
“Continue to work as normal,” Erhard’s voice was even, his calm composure not slipping. “Diagnostics, if you receive any Rosalia patients, put them in isolation - same goes for the EMT and anyone else who shows Rosalia symptoms until they have been tested. Otherwise, back to work.”
Erhard clapped his hands and the crowd dispersed. Charlotte came over to Harry.
“Maybe we should put mom’s birthday on hold.”
“Yeah. If we don’t help then we’re gonna be put in quarantine anyway.”
Charlotte nodded. “I’ll call dad later and let him know. They’re only a few states over, they should probably be on the watch. Especially being on the SDCT at Caduceus.”
“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “I just hope they stay safe. From what you described the disease is pretty horrific.”
“I looked over old cases and yeah...it caused some patients to go nuts, kill their family and then themselves.”
Charlotte looked over Harry’s shoulder, at the door. She frowned. Harry turned and saw someone waving energetically at Charlotte.
“Is that...Dr. Williams?”
“Oh lord,” Charlotte sighed, “I’m gonna sort him out.” She ran out. Harry heard her shouting at Jesse in the corridor as the door swung shut. He was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end - he’d seen her shouting at Sam often enough to know it wasn’t pretty.
Harry looked at his watch. 1:13pm. Two minutes until his break...if he worked it out correctly, that was exactly the time it took to walk to the cafeteria. With new purpose, Harry began walking, distracted by thoughts of a possible Rosalia outbreak and what it could mean.