Sadness is Contagious

Violet followed the stretcher carrying Monica Pascal through the ER and into one of Med’s trauma bays.

She’d coded on the way in and they’d been trying to get her back ever since.

Now, Dr. Archer had taken the reins.

Nurses and another doctor had rushed in as well and Lizzie had slipped back out to the waiting room with the rest of firehouse 51.

“Come on, Monica,” Violet whispered as the doctors and Med’s other highly trained medical staff continued to work on her, “Come on. PleasePleasePlease,” she silently pleaded.

“There’s just too much internal trauma!”

Words droned in and out, far more distant than they should be.

“…losing blood too fast…”

The room spun and bile rose through her throat. 

“…won’t make it to the OR…”

Tears spilled down Violet’s flushed cheeks as her body began to tremble.

“Not again.” she whispered.

Then silence.

“He’s gone. Time of death…” 

Violet couldn’t understand the words they were saying anymore. They blended and meshed into each other.

“I’m so sorry, Violet. We did everything we could. The injuries were just too severe. He’s gone.” 

She stood, frozen in place.

“Violet.”

“Hey! Violet!” she heard someone calling out to her.

“Violet? Did you hear me?” Archer softly spoke, squeezing her shoulder, “Violet?” 

“She’s gone.” Archer told her again.

And then she glanced over at the bed, at the battered and lifeless body.

“Oh no,” was all she managed to choke out before wordlessly stepping past Dr. Archer and out the open door.

How was she supposed to break the news? Mouch had already called Chief Pascal. How was she supposed to tell him? 

She was about to give him the worst news of his life. Something she’d done dozens of times before with other victim’s families.

News she’d had given to her, not all that long ago.

Violet wished she could do something, anything to bring Monica back. To prevent him from having to experience the excruciating, inconsolable, sheer devastation and heartbreak. 

She would do anything to keep him from joining her in the club she never wanted to be a part of and wouldn’t wish on anyone else…even her worst enemy…even Emma Jacobs.

And then it hit her. Tonight was their anniversary. Pascal had been talking about it. They had plans. They were supposed to have dinner.

The same way she and Evan had made plans…had thought they had all the time in the world…had planned this whole beautiful life together.

Monica was on her way to meet him. He was waiting for her at some restaurant, no idea what Monica was going through. No idea his life was about to be forever so completely altered.

As she stepped back out into the waiting room, tears were steadily flowing as all those thoughts ran through her mind. All intertwined with the images of Monica being pulled from the car. Talking to her. Watching her die, knowing they couldn’t save her, no matter how hard they tried. Her body laying mere feet away in that trauma bay. Her life suddenly just…over.

The instant Chief Pascal looked at her, she could tell. He knew.

She shook her head, silently mouthing “I’m Sorry, no,” the best she could do without completely breaking down, herself.

“YOU’RE WRONG!” he insisted, voice cracking as tears welled in his eyes.

And then the dam broke and she was choking on her sobs as he rushed past, towards where Monica was.

Violet was first to follow him, still fighting to hold onto what composure she had left, watching as he froze in the doorway at the sight of Monica’s lifeless body.

In a blink, she saw, not Pascal, but herself stepping into that room, Evan’s lifeless body laying there.

She remembered it like it was yesterday.

Watching. Waiting. Begging. Pleading. 

Desperate for him to just wake up. Desperate for herself to wake up out of this horrific nightmare.

Another blink and Pascal was falling to his knees at Monica’s bedside, inconsolable as he held her still warm hand.

Violet couldn’t take her eyes off the heartbreaking, gut-wrenching scene. 

Pascal cradled Monica’s hand in his own hands, pressing it to his face as he wept.

She was fighting the flashbacks again, to no avail.

Violet vividly recalled her own sobs and weeping, her screams and wails as she clung to Evan’s limp body in this very emergency room. 

She remembered every soul-crushing, heart-shattering moment of that night. 

Remembered rushing into the ER the same way Pascal had. 

Could describe every last detail of stepping into the trauma bay and seeing Evan, stripped of his clothes, his entire body covered in bruises.

She could hear the deafening silence of the absence of any monitors or machines hooked to him.

It was Sylvie that had broken the news to her. News that she’d intuitively already known the instant they’d pulled Evan from the rubble. 

There hadn’t been any hope of saving him. 

But Monica had been awake not half an hour ago, in the back of the ambulance as Lizzie raced them to Med.

She was alive when they pulled her out of that car. She’d been alive most of the way to Med.

And yet, Violet still couldn’t save her. She had failed. Again.

She flinched as she felt an arm wrap around her own.

It was Stella. Stella, who had taken her back to her and Kelly’s loft that night so she wouldn’t be alone. 

Stella, who, along with Sylvie, had held her in that hospital room as she said goodbye to Evan. As she held him and touched him and kissed him, one last time.

Stella, who realized in this very moment, everything that tonight was suddenly dredging back up, all the mending wounds being ripped open in a split second for Violet, suddenly just as fresh as that day a few years ago.

And yet, Violet didn’t budge, didn’t say a word as they watched Pascal, his entire world so suddenly and cruelly shattered. The love of his life ripped from him in an instant. 

“God. What do you even say to him?” Mouch mumbled mindlessly, “I can’t even imagine.”

“I can.” Violet sniffled, “Nothing helps.” she began to cry harder.

Stella silently pulled her into her arms.

“I miss him.” Violet tearfully whispered, “I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save Monica. I couldn’t save her. Why couldn’t I save her?” 

She was guided out to the waiting room and Lizzie rushed to her side.

Stella and Violet sat with her.

“Why couldn’t I save them?” Violet cried.

Lizzie rubbed circles around Violet’s back.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, “But it’s not your fault.” 

“I couldn’t save them.” Violet sobbed again, “She was holding my hand in the ambulance. She was looking at me. Trying to talk to me.”

“Hey. How about we get out of here,” Stella suggested, “Herrmann already called for relief units for the rest of our shift. You can stay with Kelly and I tonight, ok? You shouldn’t be alone.” 

Violet tearfully nodded.

So she and Stella and Lizzie headed back to 51 and 

The rest of Firehouse 51 headed back as well, except for Herrmann, who stayed behind with Pascal.

It was somber back at the firehouse and while Violet and Lizzie got changed, Stella immediately went to find Kelly.

When she did, she practically collapsed into his arms.

“Hey. I’m here,” Kelly assured her, “It’s ok.” 

Stella began crying as he held her tightly.

“I could’ve died tonight too,” she said shakily, “I..I just…I can’t imagine what Pascal is going through right now. I have no idea what I’d do or how I’d function if I ever lost you,” she cried even harder, “I don’t think I’d even want to live if you died.” 

Kelly squeezed her as tight as he could.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” he reassured her, “I’m right here. You’re ok. We’re ok. You’re not going to ever lose me if I can help it, ok?”

Stella’s cries softened and slowly ceased as she melted into his arms.

“I love you, Kelly. So damn much.”

In the locker room, Lizzie and Violet were silently gathering their things and starting to head back out.

“Lizzie. I…tonight…it’s really put into focus for me again, how fragile life is. How everything you love can be taken from you, just like that,” Violet began, tears welling in her eyes once again, “Look. I don’t know how to say this or if this is even an appropriate time to admit this, but I want you to know. Before it’s too late. I don’t want something to happen and for you to never know. I don’t want another day to go by without you knowing…” she paused, gazing into Lizzie’s hazel eyes, “I like you…a lot. Ok more like love. You’re badass and fierce, compassionate and kind. I love you, Lizzie.”

Lizzie pulled Violet into a warm embrace.

“I love you too, Violet. I’ve loved you from the day I met you. You’re my best friend. My person. And I’ll love you until the day I die, Violet Mikami.” she told her, “I. Love. You.” 

Lizzie pressed a single, soft kiss to Violet’s quivering lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Always.”