Portia Vallon rubbed her neck tiredly. A twenty-six hour shift took its toll on even the resident energizer bunny of floor seven. Although that nickname was originally for the little pink rabbit that Ariana had bought her when she first started at Dumas General Hospital. Portia had taken to carrying the little guy around everywhere, it was comforting to have something so familiar in such a cold and distant environment. Also long shifts made her homesick sometimes. Well more so Ariana-sick.
No, that sounded unpleasant, and Ariana was far from unpleasant. Why wasn’t there a better term for this?
The rabbit was getting a little worn out after all this time but was especially handy since Portia worked in pediatrics. There was always a kid who could use an extra smile. The hospital was harsh enough with its cold floors, white walls and distant machines. Portia saw no reason to add to that. That was why Portia wore bright scrubs with cartoon characters and the brightest smile on her face.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have the rabbit on her that day, although she could have definitely used it. It had been left behind, drying in the bathroom, when Portia rushed out the door on her way to work. There had been one particularly nauseous child who had left their teddy bear at home the day before, and the unfortunate rabbit had acted as a substitute before becoming a home for the contents of the child’s stomach.
A lot of people doubted her she first started, she wouldn’t be able to handle the stress, they said. The hours were too long and hard for someone like her.
They didn’t understand that Portia quite simply loved people. It was a part of who she was. She couldn’t bear to see someone in pain and not do something about it. It was why she was so good at what she did. Portia had a heart that wanted to reach for everyone, a heart that made the world seem oh so small. There was no stress, there were no hours to her, just people- people who were hurt and needed her. She could never turn away from them.
Her little patients needed all the hope and strength they could get, and so if Portia could help in any additional way, she would. Sometimes all they needed was a smile and a hug in a room full of worried grown ups and muted whispers.
She was very glad that her twenty-six hour shift was ending very soon. All she wanted to do was to go home, take a long shower and then sleep. Ariana would be there to pick her up; driving while sleep deprived was a recipe for disaster. Last night had been very busy and Portia only managed to sneak in a few twenty minute power naps.
There had been an anthrax scare in the city and all hospitals had been flooded with people coming in complaining of the smallest symptoms. It was absolutely draining. Portia had been pulled off of her floor to cover some of the others as more doctors were dispatched down to the ER to deal with the sudden influx. Dumas General was understaffed as it was, and so they were sorely unprepared to deal with this kind of a situation.
“Dr. Vallon, to room 623 please. Dr. Vallon, 623.”
Portia grinned; she recognized that voice from anywhere. Bouncing around the corner, Portia found the chief of medicine busily directing staff at the nurses station. “Anne!”
“Portia! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. We’ve been busy on this floor. The ER is overwhelmed and the board is being ridiculous as usual. The number of staff we have is underwhelming.” Anne rubbed her eyes tiredly; it seemed Portia wasn’t the only one with a long shift.
“The ER is overwhelmed, the number is underwhelmed. Why can’t things just be whelmed?” Portia furrowed her brow, confused.
Anne chuckled; Portia never failed to lighten the mood.
Portia took the clipboard out of Anne’s hands, curiosity getting the best of her. The cases on the pediatric floors were very specific: heartbreaking, but specific. You didn’t get kids with gunshot wounds or strokes or heart attacks. Sometimes Portia liked looking over other patients just to keep her memory refreshed and knowledge broad. She never knew what she might come face to face with on a gurney one day.
“We’ll be whelmed when we get hiring. Rick and his bloody board of directors are stalling us out. They’re waiting for the new budget to be released before anything happens, trying to save every penny they can. This hospital will have to be run down into the ground before he decides to spend another cent. I had to go through a two hour meeting with him so that we could order another shipment of gloves. Gloves, Portia. How do they expect us to work?” Anne threw her hands up in frustration.
“With our bare hands?” Portia offered up questioningly.
Anne barked out a laugh, “Well, we should get back to work. Portia, could you take care of Mrs. Walker in 623? There’s a John Doe in 645 I need to take a look at.”
Portia caught Anne by the wrist as she turned away, “Ooh, wait, Anne! I think they needed you in the breakroom. They have a very comfortable couch in there that I think you should try out. Extra pillows and everything! I’ll look at Mr. Doe for you when I’m done with Mrs. Walker.”
Anne stared down at the younger doctor; she knew what Portia was getting at. Portia smiled in response, unfazed. If it had been any other doctor, they probably would have gotten a lecture about professionalism and calling Anne, Dr. Bonacieux . If it had been any other doctor, they probably wouldn’t have dared. But it was Portia. And not even the chief of medicine could say no to that beam of sunlight.
“Fine,” Anne relented.
Portia’s smile grew wider, if that was possible. She skipped off, nodding to Brianna, one of the nurses on the floor- who also made the best chocolate brownies. The nurse responded with a tired smile of her own. Everyone was ready for this crisis to be over with.
Mrs. Walker turned out to be a middle aged woman who had gotten into a car accident and had several fractures. “I told Walter he needed new glasses!” was all Portia really got from their conversation. Portia assumed that Walter was the husband and also the one driving, but she didn’t really know.
It theoretically should have taken all of twenty minutes to deal with Mrs. Walker. She had just returned from physical therapy earlier that day and was complaining that her leg was seizing up. Usually Portia would’ve flagged down a nurse to administer the muscle relaxant so that the patient could sleep, but she decided to just do everything herself. No need to bother the already overworked nurses.
By the time Portia had finished with the irritable lady, it had been nearly forty minutes. Mrs. Walker just kept talking about her kids and her newly born grandchildren in excruciating detail. Portia was pretty sure that she never needed to know that much about any person in her entire life. Quietly, she slid the room door closed.
With a sigh, she made her way down the hall towards the other patient’s room. John Doe. She wondered briefly if it was the same guy that got dropped off a few weeks back with a gunshot wound. Police had taken him away before Portia’s curiosity got the best of her.
Through the large windows, Portia could see a young man. He was laying on a bed, covered in burns. The ER downstairs had done an efficient job of patching him up before transporting him up, but Portia would probably have to check pain levels, make sure an adequate amount of morphine was being administered and change a few bandages. The poor thing was in rough shape.
The door slid open without much sound and Portia stepped into the dimly lit room. “Hello? Mr. Doe? I’m Dr. Vallon. You can call me Portia though. I’m here to change your bandages.”
Silence.
Portia came to the side of the bed. He was clearly awake: silent, but awake. “How are you feeling? Can you talk?”
No response. Well this wasn’t the first patient that Portia had who was difficult. Usually they were afraid to talk because they did something illegal that landed them in the hospital in the first place and were afraid that whatever they said would get them in more trouble
Taking his silence as his agreement that she could approach, she began to gently unwrap the bandages that covered his right arm. The burns were severe, the flesh blistered and reddened but Portia kept her face carefully composed, gentle smile never faltering. She was almost glad that she didn’t work on this floor so that she wouldn’t be faced with these situations everyday.
Whatever this man had done, some of the exposed burns didn’t look quite right to Portia. The skin was peeling back and it definitely looked a lot more irritated than Portia recalled the usual burns looking, and certain parts of it were blackened; necrotic. Portia discarded the used bandages in the proper waste bin and picked up the clipboard at the end of the bed. The guy had come in with a fever and burns. Nothing about necrotic tissues on the chart.
In the silence of that moment, when there was no more rustling of bandages or swishing of her coat, is when Portia heard it. It was faint but telltale.
Clicking then faint crackling.
More clicking. More crackling.
Portia knew that sound. Ariana had taken the liberty of providing Portia with a homebrew superphone when it became clear that their relationship was very serious. Portia hadn’t paid much attention to the army of apps and things that Ariana had installed. There were police scanners, two way radio things, and a ton of other gadgets that Portia was sure had their function in Ariana’s line of work.
The one thing that Portia actually understood was that there was a Geiger counter.
Hesitantly, she pulled her phone out and raised it so that it was facing the patient. The screen lit up red- 10 Gy.
Portia hit the alarm button on the wall.
Ariana stared at the ceiling. It was polished chrome, an escape hatch in the centre of it, big enough for three of the hacker to fit through comfortably. A distorted reflection stared back at her. She never thought that she would be here today- stable job, steady relationship, permanent address.
But meeting Portia would do that to a person.
Once, Ariana was a hacker on the run, avoiding federal agents, hiding from the police. But Portia couldn’t live like that. Portia needed a bed to return to at four in the morning after a graveyard shift. Portia needed a long hot bath to relax after fifteen hours on her feet. Portia needed a shoulder to curl into after a particularly hard day. Portia was the only source of strength for some of her patients. Ariana had to be Portia’s.
So Ariana joined the FBI as a consultant. Who would’ve ever guessed, girl genius hacker with a “stick it to the man” attitude with a fun little FBI id card.
When you can’t beat them, join them, right?
So Ariana helped out on cases that required her hacking expertise, in return, she got paid and the FBI looked the other way for all those “security tests”.
“You may be one of our most valuable assets Miss Henries, but I can only call so many breaches of the US secure network unscheduled security tests. Stop trying to see if the US government keeps aliens at Area 51!” Agent Treville was not impressed with the amount of paperwork that she now had to fill out because the FBI firewall was clearly not up to standards.
Aliens were totally there.
On occasion though, Ariana would have to fly across the country for one case or another that needed her physical presence. Those were far and few between, but still it happened and Ariana would video call Portia every night.
She had gotten back from her trip out to Seattle a few days ago and was given a few days off of work. There was a guy out there who had robbed a bank, which usually wouldn’t warrant her tagging along. But apparently the guy robbed a bitcoin bank? Which was annoying. Fortunately, they had wrapped up the case quickly and Ariana was glad that she didn’t have to spend more than four days away from Portia and away from home.
Which was why she was here earlier than the time Portia had texted her to come pick her up. But what Portia didn’t know, was that Ariana had brought a certain pink rabbit with her, riding in her front shirt pocket. Ariana had found the little guy laid out on the bathroom counter, smelling strongly of Portia’s strawberry shampoo. The hacker knew that Portia would be missing it.
Honestly, she was hoping they’d let her sneak her girlfriend away a little bit early. But by the looks of the amount of people gathering in the ER, that might not be possible. It still didn’t hurt to try though.
She got all the way to the nurses’ station that Portia usually was stationed at before a nurse recognized Ariana and directed her back down the sixth floor.
So that’s how busy the hospital was.
Ariana wandered down the hall, several of the nurses smiling at her as she passed. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the hacker around the hospital, pretty much everybody who had been around Portia for a little while knew who Ariana was. Ariana saw a brief flash of red a few more rooms down, near the end of the hall. The blinds weren’t drawn, giving her a clear view into the room.
Ariana almost reached the room when she heard the alarms go off. They were harsh and grating, the light above the room that Portia was in started flashing red. She watched as a nurse approached the room, only to leap back seconds later, nod and then take off down the hall towards her.
The nurse paused, she seemed surprised to see the hacker. “Ariana! If you’re looking for Portia, she’s uh- upstairs!”
“What? They told me she’s down here, she’s right there. I can see her.” Ariana pushed past the nurse, towards Portia’s room, the rabbit’s ears swinging wildly from her pocket.
Something was wrong.
“You can’t go down there!” The nurse called out after Ariana’s retreating form.
“Like hell I can’t! My girlfriend’s down there!”
Portia had seen her coming, and she was moving around the room now. Moving towards the door, what Ariana had thought was Portia coming to the door to greet her in one of her signature hugs was actually Portia slamming the sliding glass door shut with a bang. Portia wedged the chair in the room between the door and the wall, effectively holding the door close. You couldn’t open the door without first breaking the metal chair.
Portia had locked herself in.
If Portia could see herself, she would see that the heartbreak on Ariana’s face was mirrored on her own. Ariana didn’t understand. But there was nothing Portia could do. This had to be done.
“Portia! What is going on?”
“Ria, I need you to back away!” Portia took a step away from the window, trying to distance herself from Ariana but remain close enough to be heard through the thick glass and the blaring alarm.
“Portia, talk to me!” Ariana tried to force the door open, but the chair held fast. Why did they have to make those chairs so sturdy?
“Back away please, Ria.” Portia’s voice was strained, her eyes wide and wet. Radiation was never really a case they faced at the hospital. There were procedures to be followed, decontamination to be done, proper protective gear to be worn, a hazmat team to be called.
Ariana had never heard this tone from Portia before. Portia was no longer smiling, and she actually looked worried. Portia never let her worry show.
Ariana did as she was told and flattened herself along the other wall. “Tell me what’s going on, Portia.”
“I need you to follow Brianna out of here.” Portia gestured to nurse from earlier who was talking animatedly on the phone at the nurse’s station. Why couldn’t her girlfriend follow her instructions as well as the other nurse did?
Because she’s your girlfriend.
“I am not leaving you, Portia.” Ariana glared at the doctor on the other side of the glass. “I’ll stand back here, but I am not leaving. Now tell me what’s going on. It’s not anthrax is it?” Ariana had heard on the news about the anthrax scare, but those were all just scares. It wasn’t real.
“No, it’s not anthrax.” Portia pushed a loose strand of hair out of her face. Instead of an answer, she stepped forward and pressed her phone against the glass.
The glowing 10 stared back at Ariana.
“Hazmat has been called, there’s nothing we can do but wait for them to come.”
“Doesn’t the hospital have some sort of equipment for this?” Ariana was pacing up and down the hallway, gears spinning furiously in her mind.
“Ria, it’s Dumas. We’re understaffed and poorly equipped. If we did have the equipment, who knows where it’s stored. Please stop pacing. You’re giving me a headache.” Portia rubbed her temples; there was the beginning of what she was sure was going to be killer headache.
“We need to get you away from him, babe. Can you open the door?” Ariana rattled the door, trying to shake the chair loose.
“No, it’s fine Ria. I’ve been exposed already. I can wait for hazmat. Please, can you stay back?” Portia winced, the sharp noise of metal on metal jarring her right to the bone.
“Right, right. Sorry.” Ariana backed up so that she was against the wall again.
They fell into a tense silence. Ariana was terrified, heart racing at a thousand miles per hour, blood thundering in her ears. She couldn’t even imagine how her girlfriend was feeling right now. Ariana knew that both of their jobs were high stress, but never this high.
Portia was silent. The patient in the room with her still seemed stable- a good sign. This meant that her chances were very good. It was only 10 Gy. You needed about 30 Gy to cause immediate death, if Portia recalled correctly. Still, 10 Gy was a lot, less than half the people who were exposed to this amount survived the experience. Not that she was about to tell Ariana that.
“Hey, babe. What’s a zebra?”
Portia looked up, confused. Was the radiation getting to Ariana?
“It’s twenty-six sizes larger than an A- Bra.”
Portia had to smile at that. Of course, Ariana had a stupid joke up her sleeve.
“There’s that beautiful smile. It’s going to be okay, babe. Hazmat’s gonna be here any moment now. And we’re gonna get you out of there. I know you’re this hospital’s energizer bunny, but most people don’t use radiation as their morning pick me up.” Ariana’s voice was soft, reassuring. She honestly had no idea what was going to happen, but she had to be strong, for Portia.
Portia giggled for a moment and then stopped abruptly, her head really hurt, like something was trying to dig its way out of her skull. “Thanks Ria.” She held her girlfriend’s gaze for a moment. “Babe, if anything happens to me-”
Ariana pushed herself off the wall, “No, no, no. We are not talking like that. You are going to be fine.”
“No, Ria. Listen to me.” Portia held up a hand to silence Ariana’s objections. “Please, just listen to me okay?”
Ariana nodded dumbly, putting her hand on the glass. Her entire being ached with how pained Portia looked. She just wanted to fix everything. Beautiful, sweet Portia didn’t deserve this.
“I just want you to know that I love you, okay. Don’t you ever forget that, okay?” Portia was crying now. “Ariana Henries. I want you to know that I love you so, so much. I know that my job means weird hours and sometimes we don’t really see each other, but I’m glad that you’ve stuck with me through everything. And I know we wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for my job. I know it’s all my fault but I love you so, so much.”
“Portia.” Ariana’s voice cracked. It broke her more than anyone could imagine to see Portia like this. “Portia, Portia, Portia. I love you. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. This job is as much a part of you as your hair or your smile. This isn’t your fault.”
Portia smiled.
Then she collapsed.
“Portia!”
Portia woke up to a lot of white. If this was heaven, she needed to have a serious discussion with whoever was in charge of the decor because this was seriously overrated. She blinked a few times. Why was it oh so very bright in here? Immediately a face appeared in the corner of her vision.
Alex?
That was definitely Alex’s tear stained face that looked down at her. “Portia? Honey?”
She wasn’t dead.
“Alex?”
“Oh, good you’re awake. They said you’re going to be just fine. They decontaminated you and they’ve given you something with a long name. But you just rest alright?” Alex helped her sit up in the bed, with several of the flat hospital pillows as back support. Alex’s eyes were tinged pink, make up a little smeared- like she had been crying.
There was a pounding in Portia’s head that wasn’t as bad as before, but still unpleasant. Also her hip was kind of sore.
But more importantly, where was Ariana?
“Alex? Where’s Ria?” There was a familiar looking plaid shirt draped over the back of the chair. Ariana had been wearing it. The shirt was blue and white, if Portia recalled correctly. Her pink rabbit was tucked into the shirt’s front pocket. The shirt she saw now was reddish. So was the rabbit. Blood stained.
“Alex?!” Portia’s voice rose at least an octave.
“I’m not sure. Anne hasn’t returned yet. She returned the decontaminated shirt and then had to go again.” Alex’s voice shook. It was a tiny tremor in her usual speech, but Portia picked up on it.
“What? Ria wasn’t exposed!”
Alex looked at Portia. Portia’s heart dropped.
Ariana did not.
Ariana did.
Ariana didn’t even have time to think when she saw Portia collapse. She needed to get the door open. To her knowledge, the doors were not plexiglass, so she should be able to smash the glass. Frantically, she scanned the hallway for something she could use. There was a a few large silver oxygen tanks leaning up against the wall. The sign above them said empty. One of those would do.
The hacker hefted the tank on her shoulder. Why did they make these things so heavy? Maybe she should’ve taken Treville’s advice and gone to the gym a few times. She could hit the gym after Portia was okay. Maybe. Grimly, she looked from the door to the oxygen tank. She could do this.
“I bet they never thought you’d be used as a battering ram when they first made you.” Ariana took a deep breath and swung the tank downwards.
The door exploded. Well it didn’t actually explode, but it certainly felt like it. The door shattered into many jagged shards, leaving a sizeable hole that Ariana could pass through with a little bit of maneuvering. But she was at Portia’s side now and that was all that mattered.
“Portia, babe. Wake up, come on. You gotta talk to me here.” There was no response. Ariana cradled Portia’s head to her chest, stroking her cheek softly. “Babe, you’re going to be okay. Just hang in there. Portia, come on. You’re going to be okay.” Ariana repeated the words like a mantra. The words were more for herself than the unconscious ginger.
Thundering footsteps echoed through the hall, the hazmat team. They had finally arrived. In the din of it all, she recalled being pried away from Portia’s side. The door was removed entirely. Portia was lifted out of the room. Ariana tried to go after her. Anne was there. Someone was shouting. Anne pulled her aside. Someone was convulsing.
“Ariana! Ariana!”
Ariana’s eyes focused on the woman in a white hazmat suit in front of her. It was Anne. When did Anne get there? Anne led her to a waiting gurney where Ariana allowed herself to be helped onto it.
“We’re taking you to be decontaminated and treated. You cut yourself on the door, it’s possible that you’ve got internal contamination.”
Internal contamination?
Ariana didn’t have time to ask Anne what that meant before she was whisked down the hallway by more white suited figures.
Where was Portia?
Something tugged on the back of her mind. Her vision darkened, as if a thundercloud was rushing in to blot out the sun.
Ariana fought it.
Where was Portia?
The darkness pulled again, its tendrils cold and cloying. Ariana gave in and let the dark current take her under.
The funeral was about a week later. It was actually less of a funeral and more of a burial. Nothing fancy. Portia was there in a black blouse and matching skirt. It was a very small affair.
Alex helped apply Portia’s make up when her trembling hands couldn’t even lift the brush. Alex helped sneak Portia out of the hospital and drove her to the small cemetery near the edge of town. Aside from the few men who were there solely to lower the coffin into the ground, Alex and Portia were alone.
It only took a few minutes for the wooden box to be lowered. An entire life, swallowed by the earth just like that. Portia took a moment to throw the battered pink rabbit into the grave, Alex following suit with a white rose. They watched as loose earth slowly hid the box from view.
It was Alex who finally tugged Portia away, back down the gravel path towards where they had parked. Portia kept her head down, looking down at little pebbles that crunched together under her feet as she took one step after another away from the young life that they had just buried.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Portia looked up.
Ariana grinned back at her.
“Ria! How did you get out of the hospital?” Portia rushed to Ariana’s wheelchair bound side.
“Ms. Henries was extremely agitated when she heard that you were missing from the hospital. She refused to take her meds until you were located.” Agent Treville glared at the hacker disapprovingly.
“Ria!” Portia scolded, smacking Ariana’s arm gently.
“Watch the stitches, babe!” Ariana whined. She had taken great pains to convince Treville to drive out to John Doe’s burial service. She knew Portia would be there. Portia couldn’t stand to know that someone that she had had contact with would not have anyone at their funeral.
Ariana paused, “Hey where’s the rabbit?” She knew that Portia had snuck off with the rabbit because it wasn’t on the bedside table in the hospital room when Ariana went looking for her.
Portia looked back at the freshly covered grave, with a bittersweet smile. “He needed it more, and I have you.”
Ariana took Portia’s hand in hers with a grin, there was the Portia she knew.
Nobody came into the world alone, Portia had always said, nobody should leave that way either.