Blood On My Hands

Macdonald has been ignoring Regulus for the past two days, in which he has somehow avoided seeing James for that long too. 

Hasn't even looked at him since he got out of his car and locked the door. 

Mulciber was on call last night, grabbing the case of the day. It’s a woman with a protruding tumor, maybe fifty to sixty pounds. 

The rest of them are doing rounds when they get to a neuro patient who presented with dyskinesia. 

James stares at Regulus, listening to Rosier talk. 

“Meadowes, possible treatments?” Macdonald asks. 

“For Parkinson’s disease? Deep brain stimulation has shown-” 

“Spinal pain, not Parkinson’s.” Potter corrects her, minorly distracted. 

Meadowes is caught off guard, suddenly unsure of herself. 

She’s struggling and Regulus, the know-it-all, blurts it out before remembering he was planning on taking a vow of silence. 

“Intraspinal catheter.” He says, too far deep to stop now, “It will administer constant pain medication.”

“Correct,” he nods, “Mr. Levangie, this is Dr. Black, he is going to assist with your case.” 

Oh no. 

Why couldn’t he have just stayed quiet? Would it have actually killed him to just shut the fuck up for once? Macdonald might actually kill him. 

James looks at the patient, the rest of the interns, then the resident in the room, “Excuse me.”

He is in the elevator when Mary steps in at the last second. 

“Mary.”

“Eh-no. We aren’t friends, it’s Macdonald to you.” 

“Sorry,” James shrugs, “I’ll call you Macdonald and you can call me James.” 

She folds her arms over her scrubs, looking up at him, “You think you’re charming and charismatic just because you are a talented surgeon and have nice hair? Well good for you. But if you think I will stand back at watch while you favor him because-”

“I did not favor Black.” He gets a little offended, “He’s talented, he knew the answer and Meadowes didn’t. That’s the only reason he’s with me.” 

“I’m sure he is,” she stiffs, stepping out of the elevator. 

“Can I point out, Macdonald, I’m technically your boss.”

She scoffs, “You don’t scare me.” She says, moving her hand in front of the door. “Look, I’m not going to advertise your extracurricular activities with my intern, but the next time I see you favoring him in any way, I’ll make sure he doesn’t see the inside of an O.R. for a month.”

Then she lets her hand back and the door shuts, leaving James a little speechless. 

〚*〛

Mulciber has been watching Macdonald, Potter, Mckinnon, and Dumbledore argue over the best way to help Annie, the girl with the giant tumor. 

Dumbledore makes the final decision that they are to take Marlene’s approach, which is to relieve the pressure on her lungs before the pressure on her spine. 

They disperse after that. 

All of them leave the room when Regulus sputters from where he is waiting to talk to James outside, “Dr. Potter?”

“Dr. Black,” he says, holding back his comments when Macdonald is eavesdropping from the doorway. 

“Mr. Levangie? Is he a good candidate for DBS?”

“He isn’t interested in it.”

“Yes, but-” 

James bits his tongue, dreading this, “He isn’t interested in wide awake brain surgery, that isn’t our job to convince him because we think it’s the best option. You can’t meddle in people’s lives like that.”

“Okay, but-”

Macdonald still isn’t satisfied. James continues, “Since you are clearly uncomfortable in my decision with this, it’s probably best you don’t scrub in. It’s a minor procedure.”

Regulus, confused, relents, “Alright then.” He walked away, confused at the man's uncharacteristic demeanor.

Once he's gone, Macdonald is about to disperse too, that's when James asks, “You happy now?”

She just walks off, clearly unsatisfied. 

〚*〛

Marlene is explaining the basis of the surgery to Annie, whose only question is, “Am I going to die?”

“Without the surgery, yes.” Mckinnon nods. "The tumor is killing you." 

As if it’s a difficult choice, Annie thinks it over for a minute, “I’ll have it then.” A pause, “But I don’t want him there.” 

Mulciber. 

She doesn't want Mulciber here. 

But honestly, does anyone?

“I’m sorry,” he steps to her bedside, “did I upset you in any way?”

“I heard what you were saying.” She says, “I don’t want you here at all.”

“Okay, Ms. Connors.” Mckinnon taps her hand, “Dr. Mulciber, outside.”

He has fumbled his way out of an epic surgery for this? No. No way. 

“What did you say to her?” Mckinnon demands to know. 

Mulciber groans, “The mic must have been on. I was talking to the tech guy during her C.T. scan.” 

“Idiot.” She groans, “You’re off the case and banned from my O.R. all week.” 

“Who’s going to scrub in?” Mulciber asks, Meadowes running up to them, “I got the patient history for you.”

He fakes a cough, “Suck-up.” 

“You and Rosier can scrub in.” Mckinnon decides. "And you? Go somewhere and stop fucking up, please." 

〚*〛

“I’m dumping Potter.” Regulus tells Barty, watching him read the labs for his patient. 

Barty holds the paper down, “I thought you weren’t going to date him.” 

“He’s making me look bad. And Macdonald refuses to talk to me. It’s his fault.”

“Whatever, you’re the one that got into his car.” Barty rolls his eyes, “Wanna get lunch?”

Regulus and him get on the elevator, pausing their conversation when Remus Lupin, the plastic surgeon steps in. 

He is very tall. Scars running down his body. Like a failed butchering. 

He only goes down one floor, at that point just take the stairs. 

Regulus doesn’t think too much of it, honestly. 

Barty clearly was thinking, as soon as Lupin steps off he says, “He’s kinda hot.”

“Barty.” Regulus laughs. 

“Oh, right, I forgot, we are only allowed to talk about your love life.” He deadpans, stepping off the elevator and into the cafeteria. “Maybe I’ll sleep with him so I can get good surgeries.” 

“First off,” Regulus starts, “you’ll sleep with anyone.”

He smirks, “Like that’s a bad thing.”

“And secondly, you don’t seem like the kind of guy who would want to get into plastics.” Regulus stares at the numbers on the wall, going down to the floor where the cafeteria is. 

Barty shuffles down the line, picking out his entree. “You’re right.”

“I always am.”

Barty laughs because that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Dorcas, Evan, and Mulciber are all eating already. 

“Guess who got pulled onto the tumor case?” Dorcas smiles, looking happier than ever before. 

Barty snorts, pointing at Mulciber, “You got kicked off?”

“Fuck off, Crouch.”

“And now we are in.” Evan says, him and Dorcas high-fiving across the table to make Mulciber mad. 

Barty looks at Evan, “I’m on Potter’s service now.”

“Where are you?” Dorcas asks. 

“Pit.” He sighs, “I hate Potter."

Dorcas, oblivious to the whole situation, waves her fork as she talks, “I think he’s kind of great.”

“He reamed him out in front of Macdonald.” Evan spilled. 

“How do you know?” 

“Macdonald likes me?” Evan says, "We talk." 

Barty's jaw is dropped open wide, "You talk?" 

He nods. 

Regulus makes a face, “I’m going to start hating you.” 

“What did you do to piss him off?” Mulciber chirps in, the gossip.

Regulus aggressively stabs his salad with his fork. “None of your business.” 

Barty gets paged by James and Regulus is actually jealous of him right now. He misses being the intern that was so busy trying to please Potter that he got five minutes for lunch. 

Barty runs upstairs, looking at Potter. “You paged?” 

“Get him prepped for DBS, Crouch.”

“I thought we were doing back surgery.”

“He changed his mind.” Potter says, “I got to go quickly so I can get to Mckinnon’s O.R.” 

〚*〛

“This sucks.” Mulciber whines. 

Regulus cannot wait for today to be over, “I don’t like you either.”

“Not that,” he groans, “everyone else is scrubbed in right now.”

Regulus, oddly, looks on the bright side. “We’re running the floor at least.”

“God, you sound like Evan.” He says, when a patient throws up on him. Regulus is glad he has been walking on the left side to avoid that whole thing. Mulciber looks like he wants to curse this man out when instead he says, “I’m going to go change.”

“I'll page you if I need you.” Regulus assures him, waiting for Mulciber to be gone when he leans over to the puker, patting him on the back, “You’re the best, man.”

He starts with Mr. Harper, or rather his wife, who is crying. Not a good opening to the conversation. He's trying to explain his condition to her between the sputtered sobs. “I relieved the obstruction in his chest tube, so the buildup will resolve on its own.” 

She’s about to ask more questions when a nurse looks at Regulus, “Central line run in 204, Black.”

He excuses himself from the woman, having to do his actual job. He gets pages about three times on his way there. 

“Will somebody page Mulciber?”

He nods then speaks again, “You need to check the X-Ray in 2103, Dr. Black.” Regulus holds a finger up, asking for a moment, “2118 needs post-op notes, and Jane is wondering if you want her to start feeding in 2111?” 

Regulus feels like his head might explode. 

“Page Mulciber.”

“I’ve paged him twice now.”

He throws his hands in the air, “Do it again!” 

〚*〛

Dorcas is mumbling to Evan, “My back is killing me.” 

He feels the same, “This is horrible.”

Evan looks at the clock. It’s been eight hours. 

〚*〛

Barty stands in front of Mr. Levangie, trying to calm him down from the fact that James is drilling into his skull. 

“It’s going to sound kinda weird but just take a deep breath.” He assures him. 

Mr. Levangie continues shaking, not able to get his hands to calm. Potter is placing the probe in, steadily. 

And then suddenly, as if the room was filled with magic, Mr. Levangie's hands stopped. 

All the shakiness and thrashing of movements is gone. He’s completely fine. 

〚*〛

Regulus is being paged about once every thirty seconds, similarly to how often he’s laying Mulciber for help. 

When he runs back into Mr. Harper’s room, his wife is losing it. 

The nurse briefs him, “Pressure plummeted, runs of V-Tach, CVP is sky high.”

“Bump him.”

“Maxed out on meds.”

Mrs. Harper suddenly decides that now is a great time to get in Regulus’ face and begin screaming, “What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you!” 

He screams back, panic bubbling in his veins, “Someone get her out of here now.”

Regulus puts his face in his hands, “Think. Think. Okay. Does he have myocardial ischemia?” 

“It’s a big clot.” The nurse tells him. 

He fumbles with his jacket, stripping it off so he’s only wearing the scrubs. “Page somebody. Page anybody!”

“Nobody is answering,” one nurse says. 

“He’ll be dead before they get here.” Another adds. 

Regulus can still hear Mrs. Harper’s words from outside, “Someone get her away!” He shouts, never turning from the patient. 

“You have to cut.” 

“I can’t.” He shakes his head. “He is going to die, I could kill him.” 

“Do nothing and you’ll kill him faster,” the nurse says, coming behind him to tie on a gown. 

He’s freaking out. Usually he isn’t like this. But it’s bad. 

“Take a breath, Dr. Black.” She orders him, "Deep breath now." 

He’s going to kill this man. 

This man is going to die. 

Regulus is going to kill him. 

And it’s his fault. 

His fault. His fault. His fault. 

They hand him scissors to cut the stitches and Regulus takes one last deep breath, the constant beeping becoming white noise. 

〚*〛

“Don’t let them fall into the chest cavity,” the nurse advises him. He’s thankful that she’s here. 

Emmeline Vance, he read her name tag while they got him prepped. 

“I’ve never cracked a chest before,” Regulus says. His mind is moving a million miles an hour even though his hands are calculated.

His hands don’t make mistakes. 

“No pulse, wide complex rhythm.” Vance reads out. 

Regulus wishes someone gave him a scrub cap, his hair is stuck to his forehead from all the sweat. Running all over the floor and a mini-panic attack was not helpful in that department. 

“I can’t get this clot out,” he says, rushing, “I need more suction.”

“He’s bradying down.” Vance says, turning her head from the monitor so she can check on Regulus again, “You’re fine,” she tells him, “just get the clot out right now.”

“Fuck, I can’t get it,” he drops the instruments in a pan, “I’m using my hand.”

Hiding judgement behind their eyes, the nurses watch as he pulls it out with his bare fingers, throwing it to the side before getting the rest. 

“Any change?”

“No.” Vance answers. 

He keeps going. In and out. In and out. In and out. 

Vance instructs him to breathe. 

“You need to massage the heart, Regulus.”

His hands go in. 

“Come on,” Regulus begs. “Come on.”

Seventeen seconds. 

That’s how long it takes for Mr. Harper’s pulse to start again. 

It feels like hours. 

Regulus lets out a breath, stepping away from the patient. He’s panting. Exhausted. 

He’s stable. 

With the time he has, he takes the stairs to the O.R. where Mckinnon is. 

Oh, and James. 

Not the most important detail in a crisis like this, but one that Regulus' mind won't let him forget. 

And apparently a bunch of other people who could have helped Regulus the past thirty minutes if they hadn’t been busy with this. 

He holds the mask to his face, regaining the power in his voice, “Mr. Harper, the post-op patient in 2114, I had to open his sternotomy bedside.” 

Every head in the room turns to Regulus. He does his best to keep eye-contact with Mckinnon.

“What?” She asks. 

Regulus begins explaining, “He had a cardiac tamponade. His films were clean this morning and it happened really fast. He was in P.E.A. there was no time.” 

James looks at Marlene, “Go ahead, I got it.”

Mckinnon steps out of the surgery to go to Mr. Harper, Regulus taking a moment to himself for the first time in hours. 

Mulciber throws his hands in the air, “You opened a heart bedside and you couldn’t even page me?” 

They’re in the scrub room, the rest of the surgeons able to hear, and see, if they bothered to take their eyes off the patient and look over. 

It’s Dorcas who speaks to Evan first, “This is going to be bad.”

“Definitely.” He agrees. 

Regulus is a ball of fire, “I paged you a hundred times! Do you have any idea how much work I did while you were just relaxing in the gallery?”  

Mulciber looks at his pager. 

It’s dead. 

He stops yelling at Regulus and begins making excuses, “The battery—look, Black, I forgot to change it.”

“You forgot?” Regulus laughs, still in disbelief. “You forgot.” He repeats himself. 

Regulus snatches the pager out of Mulciber's hand and throws it on the ground, shattering it. As if that weren't enough, he stomps on it twice before walking out of the room. 

“Never a dull moment at Hogwarts, huh?” James tries to make light of it. 

As if it were immediately on cue with the rest of the scenario, a vessel pops and squirts blood everywhere. 

James shouts for someone to get more blood before she loses too much. 

“Meadowes, suction right here!” He says, “Let’s go.”

“Pressure is dropping.” Macdonald notes. 

Potter has taken over, yelling instructions. “Pull back harder, Rosier.”

“We need more blood.”

She’s bottoming out. Macdonald begins to do chest compressions but nothing helps. 

James takes over, needing to be in charge.

He pushes down harder. 

The room is quiet. 

The only noise is the sound of James’ useless chest compressions. 

“James,” and that’s the first time Mary has ever called him by his first name. 

He stops, suddenly. 

Annie is gone. 

“Time of death: 12:42.” He says, throwing the glasses off of his face. 

〚*〛

Regulus is standing next to Mckinnon, who is putting his chest back together. 

“It’s messy.”

Regulus isn’t sure what to say to that, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she answers, “you saved his life. And you proved me wrong.”

“How?”

“Up until about an hour ago, I thought you were some mommy’s boy who got by because of his family. Now I think you’re a surgeon because you have what it takes.” She finishes the surgery, both of them going to scrub out, “You did good work today, Black.” 

Marlene feels like a good teacher because of Regulus and then she feels like a stalker, the way she follows Dorcas into one of the on-call rooms. 

Dorcas is stretching her back. She must be sore from all the retracting. 

“I heard Annie died,” Marlene says, shutting the door. "Are you alright?" 

Dorcas clearly doesn’t want to talk about it right now. She lays on the bed, head knocking into the pillow. “Mhm.”

In a total 180, Marlene blurts out, “What is this?”

“What is what?” Dorcas says, eyes tilting towards her. 

“What are we doing here?” She steps forward, finally moving from where she was leaning against the door. “The flirting, the coffees, you know—what is it?”

Dorcas rolls her eyes, “I don’t have a definition for you, Marlene.”

“Well-” 

“You know what, I can’t have this conversation right now, honestly. You should go.” 

Marlene stares at Dorcas, who has turned over onto her side, making sure to not face her anymore. 

〚*〛

Regulus is the last one to go home, showering at the hospital so he can go straight to bed. 

Sitting in front of his locker, eyes gently shut, is James Potter. 

Regulus pauses in front of him, a towel around his waist. 

“Dr. Potter? You’re in my way.” He says, ignoring the fact that James’ eyes seem to have forgotten where to look, staring straight ahead at his abdomen. 

Well, more accurately, the v-line just below his abdomen. 

“Potter.” He says, distractedly. 

James sputters back into motion. “Hi, sorry.” He doesn’t stand up, just slides to the side. 

Regulus takes the towel off, throwing it at James. Then, with all of the confidence in the world, begins to get dressed. 

He is stuffing his arms in his shirt, boxers already on. He finally speaks, “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“I know.” James gulps. 

“You did the surgery. Barty told me.”

James sighs, figuring this would come back up, “Yeah, well, you were right.”

Regulus throws his wallet in his pockets of his slacks. One foot on the bench as he ties his boots. 

“And I’m sorry." James adds. 

Regulus doesn’t look at him, eyes kept down at his shoes. He shuts the locker door, a little more forceful than necessary. 

He is leaving when James is walking directly behind him. He purposefully waits until they are outside of the hospital, Regulus getting into his own car. 

James has never been one to take a hint. 

He climbs into the passenger seat. 

They can talk freely now, at least. 

“I was being stupid. I was trying to protect you because Mary told me that if I favored you another time you would be banned from operating.” He explains. 

Regulus turns to face him, hips staying planted on the seat, “I don’t need your protection, okay? I can take care of myself just fine.”

“I know you can,” James nods, “I’m sorry. You were right to push, this time .” 

Regulus buckles his seat belt. 

“I cannot believe you opened Mr. Harper up today, Reg, that’s—I mean, you’re incredible. Really.”

“You sucking up to me won’t make me any less mad.” Regulus warns him. 

James puts his hand on Regulus’ thigh, “I’m serious. You’re doing things I’ve never seen an intern do before.” 

“Shut up.”

“What’s it going to take for you to stop hating me?” James asks, desperate for even a look. “I’ll do anything.”

“Put your seat belt on.”

“What?” James asks, hand still. 

“Put on your seat belt so I can drive you to my house.” Regulus huffs, “Or get out.”

He clicks his seat belt shut immediately. 

〚*〛

Dorcas never came home, Barty and Evan ordered a pizza. Regulus shoves James upstairs, pretending that they didn’t see when it was obvious they did. 

Regulus walks through the living room, stealing a slice. 

It’s Evan who hands him a second one, “For your boyfriend.”

“You two better not tell anyone.”

“Just tell Potter to keep it down in there.”  Barty snarks, watching Regulus practically run back up the stairs. 

Evan’s laughing, laying on the floor. 

Barty never realized that Evan has freckles. So light you can barely tell if you’re not up close. 

His blonde hair is frizzy, drying after his shower at the hospital. 

“We could’ve ate at the table,” Barty points out, “maybe then we wouldn’t have to see Potter creeping up the stairs with a condom in his hand.”

“What’s the fun in that?” Evan takes a bite, talking through his food, “And besides, my body hurts so bad I think sitting in a chair would leave me permanently paralyzed.” 

“Roll over,” Barty tells him.

“I’m your roommate, not a dog.”

Barty eyes him, “Do you want a back massage or not? One of my girlfriends in college was a masseuse, I know some things.” 

“Fine,” Evan groans, laying on his stomach. Barty crawls overtop of him and has his knees on either side of Evan’s hips. The only thing touching him are his hands. 

Barty doesn’t really need him to do this but asks anyway for the sheer fun of it, “Take off your shirt.”

Evan does, tossing it to the side. 

Barty starts with his upper back, watching the way Evan’s body tightens when he presses on certain muscles. 

He has quite an attractive back. 

Evan, face buried in the carpet, is relaxed. And Barty knows this because everytime he touches him, Evan groans. 

“Mmm.”

Every single time. 

Barty doesn’t stop for at least thirty minutes, when he has to because Evan is giving him a hard-on and he cannot take it anymore. 

He leans forwards, mouth by Evan’s ear, “Night, Ev. I’m going to bed.”

“Mhmm.”

Evan will probably sleep on the floor, but Barty goes to his room, locking the door behind him. 

It certainly doesn’t help that he can hear Regulus and stupid Potter going at each other.