Weighed Down
November 10th
By the time that Harry had been cleared by Healer Anderson, Doctor Webber, and his mum, he was desperate to get to work.
It was great, having a week at home with Teddy, spending as much time together as possible. Except Harry had Healer St. James sending him daily letters with all of the hospital gossip and Draco sent him a daily message about bureaucratic matters and Harry's responsibilities were piling up.
"You'll ride the bus to the hospital after school," Harry reminded Teddy during drop-off at his school. It was a nice school, Harry went there himself for a year when he'd been a boy. Tuck went there the whole time he'd been in elementary school, he always had great stories to share with Harry about his teachers and classmates and the clubs and activities that were offered.
Teddy wasn't making friends as easily as Tuck had, which Harry empathized with. Harry didn't make friends easily either, but Teddy was friendly and funny, Harry was sure he'd warm up and have a whole group of little friends soon.
"I don't want to go to the hospital," Teddy complained, slumping lower in his seat the closer they got to the doors. "I want to go to Papaw's, he said we were gonna make clocks soon."
Harry had a fond memory of making clocks with his dad when he'd been a kid. Dad let him help glue the boards together, shave them down. Harry got to pick a shape for his clock, stain it himself… It was still hanging in his parents' living room, crooked and imperfect as it was.
"As soon as Papaw has some more time, you two can make your clock," Harry promised Teddy. "Today's not a good day, but if you come to the hospital then maybe I can get Draco to let me leave early and we can go flying?"
Teddy hesitated, his interest in quidditch had been growing more and more. "What if you can't leave early?" he asked.
"Then we'll have ice cream for dinner," Harry said, grinning when Teddy giggled. "There we go, Teddy Bug. You go learn all about new things in Miss Shanae's class and I'll see you later, okay?"
"Alright." Teddy leaned over and hugged Harry, giving him the sweetest smile when he did. "Love you, Dad."
"I love you," Harry said, melting at the simple moment with his kid. Teddy was the best kid there was, no contest. Tuck was a close second, but he grew up and turned into a preteen while Teddy was still little and wanted to spend all his time with Harry.
Well, Harry and his grandpa.
Harry thought about his dad, Teddy's grandpa, while he drove from the school to the hospital. Dad had told Teddy that he bought wood to help him make his first ever clock, but with all of the fighting going on at Harry's parents' house lately, Harry thought it might be better to give them time to cool down. Tuck was already planning to stay the night with a friend, because apparently his friends were cooler than his big brother.
It had been building for years, as much as Harry wished it hadn't. Harry's parents loved each other, Harry knew they did, but Harry also knew they got married young so they could adopt him and that they stayed together for all the wrong reasons —
It was because Harry was a sick kid, then Tucker was born. Then Harry had been a wreck during his Hogwarts days and his parents stayed together for that. When the war ended, they stayed together to help with Teddy while Harry had been in his healing program.
Harry brought them together and he was afraid that all of the stress he put them through was going to tear them apart. Mum had been at the hospital for three days in a row, Dad had been irritable and moody the last time Harry saw him. Mum was meant to be home that night and Harry was hoping very much that they could talk, work things out.
In the grand scheme of everything, Harry's parents separating shouldn't have been so awful to imagine. They were adults, they were always going to be family. It still felt awful though, it was another thing that had Harry itching to return to work.
Work would be a good distraction, something normal to focus on.
Harry stopped by the tea cart on his way in the hospital and smiled as he entered the lobby, relieved that the mob was gone. It had been partly MACUSA's interference, Draco sent a nasty letter after Harry had been shot, and then Anderson called every one of his fellow soldiers and had them all lining the hospital until the last of the protesters left.
It was really the perfect combination of muggles and magic, something Harry would have liked to see. Mum said it was beautiful, Draco said it was ridiculous, but as long as everyone was finally getting along then Harry was happy.
The receptionist in the lobby greeted Harry cheerfully, as did the armed guard that Richard officially hired on the staff.
"You look better, Chief," he said politely. "Glad to see you back on your feet."
"Thanks," Harry said, raising his cup toward him. "You guys did a good job, we appreciate you."
The guard nodded and Harry continued his way toward his office, pleased when he saw that the two staffs had finally began mingling. Harry saw Altman and Trent talking together, both of their hands flying around with enthusiasm for whatever they talked about. When he passed the cafeteria, he spotted Sloan chatting up Gabrielle, something that made Harry grin to himself.
Gabrielle was nice to Harry, but he heard some of the mediwitches calling her an ‘Ice Queen'. Apparently the warm friendship Harry shared with her ever since his fourth year wasn't the Gabrielle that everyone else got to know.
All through the hospital, the walls had finally been broken. Even the interns were mixing with the healers and the mediwitches and mediwizards.
"Harry!" Richard was on the seventh floor, pacing outside of Harry's office door. He smiled widely and offered Harry his hand. "How are you feeling, son?"
"Better," Harry said. "Healer Anderson did a great job, there's hardly a scar."
"Good! Good!" Richard tried to pull his firm and stern face, Harry wasn't falling for it. Richard had been like Harry's grandfather when he'd been growing up, actually ten times better than Harry's actual grandfathers since he liked Harry and didn't critique Harry's education.
Harry's grandparents didn't know about magic until the Healing Hospital opened and Harry hadn't received a letter from his dad's parents since they found out. It stung, harshly, but Mum said they would come around eventually. Mum's parents were more accepting, Harry just had too many memories of them lecturing his mum about ‘wasting a fortune on a foreign education' for him to be too warm and fuzzy toward them.
Richard had always been nice though; letting Harry run around the hospital when Mum was stuck in surgery, stopping by to say hi when Harry was admitted. Mum respected Richard a lot and at some point he became family to Harry. Teddy was under the correct impression that Richard was also his grandfather, something Harry knew Richard treasured based on the photos and drawings on his desk from Teddy.
"That party did bring the staff together," Richard said. "I've been seeing more and more healers popping in on surgeries and doctors watching the healers. You did good, Harry, real good."
"By getting shot?" Harry grinned wryly and let Richard in his office. "I'm happy to be of service, Richard."
"Maybe next time we only pretend you got shot," Richard amended himself. "I don't want to deal with your mother pacing outside your hospital room again."
Harry didn't either, it hurt him to see his mum hurting. Harry had been foolish, impulsive. There were people who counted on Harry - his son, his family, his staff. Harry couldn't risk their futures by being impulsive.
"I am sorry." Harry sat heavily in his chair and looked past the mountain of paperwork to meet Richard's eyes. "I didn't pull the trigger, Richard, but I didn't help matters at all."
"No, you didn't," Richard agreed pleasantly. He sat across from Harry and folded his hands over his stomach. "It was foolish, what you did. You are a healer, Harry, not a police officer. Do you know what you put your family through? What you put your son through?"
Harry deserved the lecture, he did. Harry had no experience in de-escalating mobs or with muggle weapons. The smart thing would have been to move the staff away from the lobby and let the police handle the protesters.
In Harry's defense, the rock sailed through the window and all Harry could think of were the attacks he witnessed, the windows shattering in Hogwarts, the smoke that filled the air… the screams, the blood, the death.
"I know," Harry said. "It was thoughtless."
It truly was, Harry didn't think about it at all before he went outside. Harry saw his mum on the staircase and only thought ‘not her' before he charged outside.
"You're damn right it was," Richard said. His tone softened, he must have realized that Harry had said all of the same things to himself already. "I'm glad you're alright though, really. It wasn't the same without you around here."
"Was it quieter?" Harry grinned.
Richard laughed and pushed himself to his feet, leaving Harry to his stack of backed up paperwork. "You're damn right it was, I didn't care for it. If you need me, give me a page."
"Will do," Harry agreed. "Thanks, Richard."
Harry would have been happy to spend more time chatting with Richard, even if it came with a lecture. Instead, it was Harry and his oldest enemy alone again…
Paperwork.
Harry spent a good two hours on paperwork before an excellent distraction arrived in the form of Derek.
"Welcome back." Derek let himself in the office after knocking and he seemed happy enough to see Harry. "You look better."
"I'm less bleeding out and going through shock," Harry agreed cheerfully. "Though, I might shoot myself to get out of this paperwork."
Derek winced and Harry assumed that maybe it was too soon for a joke.
"Sorry, mate." Harry waved a hand at the seat across from him. "You can sit if you'd like."
"Actually I came to see if you were interested in a surgery with me," Derek said, strolling up and dropping a patient care folder on Harry's desk. "It's a glioblastoma multiforme, Seattle Pres found it and sent the patient here."
Harry looked at the scans and whistled, it was a beautiful tumor in a way. It was deadly, something to respect. It seeped into the brain, covered so much that it was almost impossible to remove without killing the patient.
"Not a great survival rate," Harry said, thinking aloud. "Even with magic, you can't control it to only remove tumor cells, I could erase large portions of their brain."
"I hate to make a bad case worse, but it is a child," Derek said, pointing at the stats on the scan. "A fourteen year old girl."
Oh, no… Harry hated to operate on kids. Harry very much hated to operate on kids.
"Did parents sign a consent?" Harry checked. Never again would he touch a muggle without having their consent in hand.
"I have three copies," Derek said, placing one of those copies on Harry's desk. "What do you say? Can we brainstorm a plan and present it to the family?"
They could certainly try.
Harry and Derek took one of the conference rooms in the medical side of the neuro floor, incorrectly assuming that they wouldn't be bothered as much there.
The walls were plastered with scans, images, blood tests. None of them pointed to a very pleasant picture, Harry really struggled to find a way to remove the tumor without killing the girl.
"She's a sweet girl," Derek sighed, rubbing his knuckles on his forehead after they tried and failed to talk through a lower approach. "She was referred here from a clinic, she's fought so hard to get healthy, I can't imagine sending her home to die."
"Drugs?" Harry asked, weaving his wand around the brain model and trying to find any way to save her.
"Anorexia," Derek said. "They have clinics for that now. There's one in Seattle, a nice one for children."
Harry's wand froze in his fingers for a second while a familiar swoop in his stomach made him nauseous. It was shame, that was the swoop. It was shame and Harry… Harry didn't know if he should be on the case.
"Ah." Harry pushed himself away from the table and told himself to not be stupid, to not let shame and weakness keep him from helping save a life if he could. The report with the patient's base information laid on the table and Harry scanned it again, specifically looking for her measurements that time.
62 inches, 33.5kg.
She wasn't a fully recovered and healthy patient… she had probably gone to a clinic and the tumor had came up on the initial intake examination.
"Derek… I think you should bring St James in on this," Harry said carefully. "She is my head of neurology, I'm sure that she's going to have an opinion on this."
Derek looked up at the shift in Harry's tone. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah." Harry pasted on a smile that probably wasn't fooling Derek a bit. "I'll be back. And I'll send for St James, see what she thinks."
Harry didn't need to have some sort of childish shame spiral, he needed to get some air, walk around. Maybe sneak outside, see the sun or something. He did send a patronus to St James, she would probably have more ideas on the surgery than Harry currently did.
Or, as it turned out, maybe what he needed was to be distracted by a beautiful doctor.
Harry started walking the hospital corridors, pacing and burning off his nerves. The hospital was a good place to pace, it always was, and Harry felt less burdened the more he walked.
On the OB floor, Harry paused at the windows where the newborn babies were all nestled in their beds. They were so small, so innocent. It made Harry's heart ache to think how fast they would all grow and change. One day they would be out in the world and would need to survive it.
"Chief Bailey?"
Sharp footsteps and a sultry voice made Harry lift a brow when he turned his head. It was Addison Montgomery walking to him, Derek's very attractive ex-wife.
Addison's lips were almost as bright red as her hair when she smiled at him. Harry knew he was supposed to hate her out of loyalty to Derek, but Harry was also a professional. His mum would kick his arse if Harry didn't treat everyone perfectly professionally.
"Hello," Harry said politely. "How are you?"
"Well I wasn't shot recently," Addison said. "You look better. Are you back now?"
"I've been cleared by every doctor I know," Harry said with a grin. "Trust me, if my mum didn't think I was fully recovered, I wouldn't be here."
"Your mother is protective, it's nice," Addison said. "My mother is a country club trophy wife, so I like seeing other parents dote on their kids."
"I can share my mum with you," Harry joked. "Trust me, she has plenty of overprotectiveness to go around."
"Harry Bailey, are you proposing to me?" Addison laughed. "Don't you think we should have a first date first?"
Harry choked on his own breath with how quickly his prior chuckle died in his throat. Proposing? No, no, obviously not. That was a joke. And Harry - Harry couldn't go out with Addison, she was tall and beautiful and brilliant and Harry's new best mate's ex-wife. Nope.
"Yeah," Harry said once he had his wind back in his control. "We should," he told her, quickly adding a smile he hoped was charming.
"Harry," Addison's smile dimmed some and she tilted her head while sighing. "You're very funny, especially when drunk, you're clearly brave bordering on idiotic."
That didn't bother Harry, he heard that plenty of times in his life.
"And I'd be a liar if I said you weren't attractive," Addison said, a round of compliments - honestly. "So I'll be honest with you, you're friends with Derek? Doctor Shepherd? We used to be married. He calls me Satan. I wouldn't mind getting to know you better, Derek would definitely mind."
Satan?
"Why - why does he call you Satan?" Harry asked.
"Overlord of all that's evil and cold," Addison said airily, making Harry laugh though he was sure she didn't mean to. "It's a pet name, probably."
"I could think of better ones," Harry said. "Though I'm sure you've heard Gorgeous, Goddess, and Brilliant too many times before."
Was Harry flirting to avoid his own thoughts? Possibly. Did that make it a waste of time? Hopefully not.
"And, before you say no to a date with me, you should know that Derek was the one who told me to date people and my mum told me that she thought we'd make a great couple," Harry told her. "I'm sure you don't want to disappoint your ex-husband or my mum, right?"
Addison took a moment and Harry hoped she was genuinely considering it. Addison was smart, pretty, Harry would like to get to know her - maybe before they shagged, since the Lexie situation made him feel horrible.
"Maybe if you help me with my patient, I'll think about it," Addison said. She smirked and it was attractive, really bloody attractive. "We can call it a pre-date consultation."
"What's wrong with your patient?" Harry asked first. It would be nice to go out with Addison, even if it led to nothing. Harry would like to get to know more of the staff, possibly try out dating like Derek suggested.
But Harry wasn't going to do any of that if it meant he was going to be pulled into another lawsuit.
"Septuplets," Addison said. Harry blinked, tried to imagine…
Seven? Seven babies? Inside of a muggle?
"How awful," Harry said, grimacing. "Multiples cause so many complications, how far along is she?"
"Nineteen weeks and already in labor," Addison said. "Walk with me? I'll grab my tablet, show you her charts. I haven't brought up the possibility of bringing in a Healer, but I'm sure she would be up for it once I do. She's terrified that the babies will be too small and weak to survive the birth, I am too."
Harry listened to Addison and asked a few questions, thinking about the situation. If the mum was willing to consider magical treatment then Harry could bring in Gabrielle, have her keep the babies in the womb so they could grow. There were plenty of charms and potions that would ensure they could all grow before they were born…
And Harry hoped the mum was open to a magical delivery as well - no woman should have to suffer through birthing seven babies the muggle way.
"If you can convince the mum to let us on the case, we could make things much better for her," Harry said. He had read the report Addison gave him and returned it to her. "I would never guarantee life, but I'm confident that the mum and babies would have higher odds of life if we could help."
"You don't want to ask why she didn't terminate any of the fetuses?" Addison asked, tilting her head at Harry some. "That's been everyone else's first question."
Who was Harry to question it? Who was he to even judge her for being unable to terminate a single one of her children's lives. Harry had certainly not been convenient for his parents - they were in a war, scared, fighting every day. Lily Potter would have been early enough in her pregnancy and muggle enough to know of her options when the Potters were told the prophecy that she could have terminated Harry's life.
Tonks had been in nearly the same position - pregnant during a war. She chose to have Teddy and Harry was grateful every day. It made him understand his mum better, to know how she must have felt when she saw Harry and decided that he was her son.
"I don't," Harry said simply. "I'm sure she has her reasons. If she's amenable to letting us help, Healer Delacour is a brilliant woman, I'm sure she would love to help."
"Who's helping do what?" Another doctor walked up to them then, the pretty one with green eyes and the light lisp - Jackson Avery. Jackson smiled at Harry politely and Harry suffered through another quick visual assessment. "I'm glad you're back, Chief," he said politely. "Are you helping with one of our cases?"
"If we can get the mom in 2118 to agree," Addison told Jackson. "I think she will, I'm going to speak with her when her husband gets back. Healer Bailey, would you like to get a coffee while we wait?"
"Actually the nurse in 2305 needs you," Jackson told Addison. "The mom is freaking out, changing her mind about the plan you made."
"Jesus." Addison groaned and Harry could empathize with her frustration. "Fine," she said. She pointed a finger at Harry and smiled briefly. "You owe me coffee soon. I'll talk with 2118 then I'll find Delacour if she agrees. Thank you."
"And dinner," Harry said quickly, hoping she didn't change her mind. "Maybe tomorrow?"
"I'll get back to you," Addison said, not unkindly. Harry watched her stalk off toward the patient room and valiantly didn't stare at her backside even once.
"If you're done checking out Doctor Montgomery's ass…" Jackson cleared his throat and grinned crookedly at Harry. "I'm heading down to the cafeteria, if you're hungry."
Harry wasn't hungry, but that was likely a problem. It was when he was the least hungry that his brain told him that he should eat. It was only because that voice grew louder as Harry grew that he even heard it as the logic that it was.
"Alright then," Harry said, falling into step beside Jackson. It was a true curse for Harry, working in a hospital with so many attractive women and men. If Harry hadn't known his own sexual preferences rather young in life, he was sure that one day around the likes of Jackson Avery or Mark Sloan would have sent him in a complete panic.
That thought made him think of Cedric, the first person who Harry came out to. Thinking of Cedric caused Harry's mood to dip and then he remembered the patient Derek had and by the time they reached the first floor, Harry's stomach was so twisted in knots that he knew he'd never manage a single bite of food.
"You know, I think I'll go outside for a bit, actually," Harry told Jackson. "It's hard to get any sunlight with our hours, I should take advantage."
Jackson seemed a bit disappointed that Harry was ditching him, though Harry could have imagined it since he started walking away quickly. Some fresh air would do him good, get his head on straight…
There wasn't meant to be anybody else outside though.
"Oh, hey." Healer Anderson had jolted some when Harry walked outside, though he relaxed quickly and resumed his slumped position against the wall. He seemed… down, though Harry suspected it was more than that.
Anderson served in a war fought with muggle weapons. Muggles couldn't use magic to kill their enemies, they needed bullets and bombs, knives and terrorism. Harry had worried about Anderson's mental health when he applied, he had been so recently deployed, but then Anderson saved Harry's life.
"Hello," Harry said politely, standing close enough to Anderson to be there without crowding him. The fresh air really did wonders for clearing the fog from Harry's mind, allowing him to center himself.
If Derek didn't have an anorexic patient, if Harry wasn't buried under a mountain of work, if his parents weren't fighting, if Teddy was making friends and connections with his peers… well, it might not have mattered so much one at a time, but —
"It all piles up, right?" Anderson muttered, looking out across the ambulance bay to where Sirius's clinic sat. Harry didn't want to add grief for Sirius to his day, so he looked down at Anderson's shoes instead.
"It does," Harry agreed, sure that they were having something of a very similar day. "It piles up and just pulls you down."
"It doesn't pull me down, it sits on me." Anderson rubbed his chest and his lips twisted in pain. "It sits on my chest until I can't fucking breathe. I'm walking around, unable to breathe, thinking I just need to fight it."
"Yeah." Harry released a heavy breath and nodded while his body relaxed against the side of the hospital where they stood. "I'm just tired of fighting, mate."
Not that he had a choice, not that Harry ever really had a choice. And most days he was fine, he was grown and he had his family and support and he had people who loved him and his son who depended on him. Then there were days like that day when everything started to feel too much and Harry didn't want to fight.
"It was easier, in the war," Anderson said, his voice faint and far away, back in Iraq probably. "It was constant adrenaline, always an enemy to fight. Even when I lost brothers, I knew I had to keep fighting. Here…" Anderson's voice hitched and Harry's chest twinged painfully. "It's different here, my guy."
It was different, Harry could empathize so completely. In the war, Harry had goals, he had clear steps he needed to follow. There wasn't time to let himself get overwhelmed because it was a war. Harry's brain had operated on fight for nearly a year, at what his mother called a ‘severe detriment to his long-term health'.
When spells were being fired or his friends were starving and scared, Harry could rally himself for them, for others. It was a different set of skills that he had to use for himself, a set of skills that he might not have a great grasp on.
"Do you want to stay or go?" Harry asked Anderson, entirely without judgement. If Anderson couldn't finish the day, Harry wouldn't make him. If it were Harry though, he wouldn't want to be alone with his thoughts or the weight that pulled him down.
"Stay." Anderson blinked and then turned his head to flash Harry a hollow smile that never reached his eyes. "I think if I go home like this, I might hang myself."
Harry forced a grin, though he didn't think it was all that amusing. Harry had a morbid sense of humor at times though, and he figured that was as close to a cry for help as a soldier would make.
"Come over for dinner and stay at my place tonight," Harry told him. He pulled his notepad from his pocket and jotted down his address to give Anderson. When Anderson wouldn't take it, Harry put on his best impression of his mum. "Come for dinner, stay at my place, or you're fired," he said sternly - probably not meaning it. Harry wasn't going to fire a bloke for being sick, it would be hypocritical.
"Are you coming on to me, Chief?" Anderson asked, taking the paper and slipping it in his pocket. Anderson's smile melted some and if he wanted to make it a joke, that was fine. As long as he was there. If Harry couldn't admit him, he'd babysit. It wasn't like others hadn't done it for Harry before.
"Of course I am," Harry joked back. "Hey, I'm a catch, alright? Some blokes would beg to be invited to my house for the night."
Anderson barked out a laugh and it eased some of Harry's own weight. They straightened up at the same time and Anderson jostled Harry lightly on their way back inside the hospital.
"I'll keep that in mind," Anderson said. "Though I've already had my hands all over your body, Chief. And, if you want to be technical, I've been inside of you too," he added with a wink.
Harry looked over at Anderson's easy grin, the sparkle of humor in his eyes, and he positively lost it. Harry stood in the ER doorway and laughed so hard that he nearly wet himself.
It was quite possibly the worst and most hysterical pickup line Harry had ever heard. He doubted if he'd ever get a chance to use it on someone, doctor-patient boundaries and all, but it did wonders to brightening Harry's mood.
In fact, Harry's mood had brightened just enough that on his way back to the project he abandoned, he stopped by the OB department again to find Addison.
Addison and Gabrielle were in a conversation, both of them going back and forth about the mum with the septuplets. Harry waited until they were finished, or at least until they both turned to acknowledge him.
"I wasn't clear before," Harry told Addison respectfully. "I think you're intelligent, interesting, and obviously beautiful. If you're free tomorrow evening, I'd like to take you to dinner to get to know you better. I don't care if Derek is your ex-husband because I think it would be childish for my friendship with him to end over us getting to know each other. If you're not interested, that's more than alright, but I just wanted to be perfectly clear."
Because how would Harry get to know anyone if he wasn't clear? It wasn't sex, it wasn't vague, Harry didn't expect Derek to quit speaking to him over a date. Addison might not be Harry's future spouse, that was okay. Harry would still like the chance to get to know her more.
Addison was very good at hiding her thoughts, though Harry hoped the upticked eyebrow was a good show of surprise and nothing negative. Her smile was sweet when she flashed it though and Harry felt some silly hope inside of him.
Gabrielle rolling her eyes and fighting back a laugh was a bit uneeded.
"Dinner tomorrow sounds great," Addison said. "I might get pulled into a surgery."
"I might get pulled into surgery too," Harry told her truthfully. "If so, we can reschedule."
"Alright then, I suppose it's a date."
Yes it was.
A date.
Which… Harry had next to no experience of attending as an adult…
So he probably needed to get advice from someone who wasn't Derek.