Seventeen Seconds
James wakes up to several missed calls from his parents. He ignores them, instead focusing on Regulus, in the tiny kitchen, trying to make breakfast.
James says trying because while Regulus is insanely good at a lot of things, cooking is where his skill set falls short.
But he’s here. He’s trying. James can’t find it in himself to stay angry at him when all of those emotions have been targeted at his father.
As horrible as last night was, it brought Regulus back to him.
James tries to look on the bright side. And then the smoke alarm starts going off because the pan on the stove is smoking.
He winces, grabbing it to take outside.
James follows, shoving his glasses on his face when he sees Regulus trying to figure out what to do. It makes him laugh, the burnt eggs dumped onto the grass.
Regulus is cursing out the pan, which is smoking still.
“Reg?” James asks, only wearing his pajama pants. The red striped ones. “What did you do?”
Regulus turns around, frowning, “Well, uh. . . I was trying to make you some breakfast.”
James takes the pan from him so Regulus doesn’t do any more cooking this morning, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Breakfast is your favorite meal,” he recalls, “I’m sorry.”
James leans forward, “Stop apologizing. What time do you have to be at the hospital?”
“Rounds at eight.” Regulus answers, “I got someone to cover my shift tonight. Dorcas said she’d come unless there was a good surgery, Evan said he’ll be at the hospital until nine, but just be late, and Barty will be there.”
“You invited Barty?”
Regulus remembers now he shouldn’t bring him up, “Well. . . I mean, Barty is my friend.”
“Friends,” James scoffs, “right.”
“That would be like me asking you not to bring Sirius.” He counters.
“Me and Sirius didn’t have sex.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, “Would you just trust me when I say that it was a mistake? That I don’t want Barty.”
James walks inside, “I don’t know if I can trust you, Regulus.”
Regulus flinches back a little, checking his watch, “You know what, I think I’m going to go to the hospital. Get pre-rounds started.”
He grabs his stuff inside and calls Barty, who picks him up from where he’s at, no questions asked.
〚*〛
Evan is at the nurse’s station, asking who paged him, when he figures it out by himself. “Deni?”
“She collapsed.”
“Too far, too fast.” She breathes out, sweat coating her forehead.
Evan crouches down, “What were you doing?”
“Stairs.” She mutters.
Evan looks at the pack, “Your LVAD battery is almost dead.” He touches her shoulder, “Get Deni to her room, I’m going to go find Dr. Mckinnon.”
A while later, Deni is back in her bed, Evan stands at the end of it while Mckinnon takes her blood pressure, lecturing her. “You knew the LVAD wasn’t a cure, right?”
“I want to go home,” she reminds them.
Of course, they already knew. She talks about going home almost constantly.
“I want to go home, yesterday.” She enunciates, angry the doctors haven’t been able to save her life and send her off yet.
“At this point, there aren't many options left, Deni.”
She’s angry, tears swelling in her eyes, “Since when do you get to decide what is an option in my life and what isn’t?” Evan’s never seen her like this. “I know you keep me alive with your technology and your batteries, but it’s still my heart!” She huffs, “It’s my decision. It’s my damn life.”
Mckinnon relents, “You’re right. It is your life. And it’s your life at stake.” She hates it when patients think they know more than her. “And guess what? It’s your life that will end if you continue to push like you did today.”
“You said the LVAD would make me better.”
Dr. Mckinnon shakes her head, voice firm, “I told you the LVAD would buy you more time, and it will. If you respect its limitations, and your own.”
She clearly doesn’t agree, staring up at the ceiling, “I wanna go home.”
Dr. Mckinnon leaves the room, knowing enough that there isn’t anything left to say to her now. Evan follows behind, eager to ask, “What do we do?”
“Put her on a tight leash. Have the nurses keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t take any more endurance hikes.”
“Marlene,” Evan steps out of line, “what do we do?”
She sighs, “The damage to her body, we can try to control. The damage to her spirit. . . for a woman like Deni, to lie for years on a hospital bed? That’s not something we could really understand. And her feelings about it, that isn’t something we should try to control.” Marlene says, “Give her room to grieve.”
〚*〛
Regulus is sitting in the basement, next to Barty, eating lunch together.
“I mean, are you kidding me?” He says, “With everything going on the only thing he can focus on is you and me. I almost lit his kitchen on fire and he kissed me and told me it was okay. How nice it was to try and make breakfast. But even the mention of your name and all hell breaks loose. Because even though we sleep one door away from each other, inviting you to a dinner party, where they told me to invite my friends, oh, that’s crossing the line. I invited you so I must want to dick you down on the dinner table, right?”
He angrily takes a bite of his banana.
Barty smirks at him, “I mean, I prefer beds but if table is what you want then-”
Regulus elbows him in the ribs, Barty coughing from the impact.
“I told him that I’m not interested in you. That we’re friends, but he won’t listen to me.” Regulus throws his peel in the trashcan and sits back next to Barty, “He’s fighting with his parents.”
“Golden boy fights with his parents?”
“James’ parents didn’t know he liked boys until last night.” Regulus says. Barty won’t tell anyone. He knows he wouldn’t. “It didn’t go over well.”
Barty zones out. He thinks of his own family. His negligent father. His mild-mannered mother.
How he hasn’t heard from them in years.
How scared he is to reach out.
How badly he wants to know.
“Oh, that’s shit.” He says.
Regulus looks him up and down, “You’re not going to make a joke. Praise somebody because something in James’ life isn’t perfect.”
“Having homophobic parents isn’t for the weak.” Barty shrugs, “I feel sorry for him. At least you and I are accustomed to adversity.”
Regulus stares at him, “I don’t know what to do.”
Barty isn’t a relationship guy. Regulus shouldn’t be asking him. But who else is there? Sirius is just as shit at relationships as Barty. Evan, well, he fell for a patient. Dorcas would tease him. And Mulciber, Regulus would rather drown than call him his friend, much less talk about his feelings.
So, Barty will have to do.
〚*〛
Evan drops a sack on the table, sitting on the edge of Deni’s bed.
“Evan.” She sighs.
“Smell,” he pushes the chocolate towards her face, “smell it.”
“Stop.”
He holds it in his hands, “It’s chocolate. Not the crappy, processed, waxy kind, the really good Swiss chocolate we sell at the gift shop. Super overpriced but totally worth it. Try it.” He breaks her off a piece, Deni reluctantly putting it in her mouth. “And exibit B. Tabloids.” He clutches four different magazines in his hand, “Good, old-fashioned, trashy celebrity gossip rags that are guaranteed to take your mind off your troubles.”
“Dammit Evan, stop it.” Deni swallows, snapping at him. “Just stop it.” She hesitates, “You think I’m feeling sorry for myself, right? Poor sad-sack Deni just needs a little perspective.”
Evan purses his lips, “You do need a little perspective, Deni.”
“You have no idea what it is to lose what I have lost!”
Evan sees her in a new light. Never before seeing much else other than a positive exterior. Today. . . today isn’t a good day.
“I’m a woman. I’m a strong, pretty, young woman but I’m stuck in the body of a beaten-down, sick person that I don’t know, I don’t like, I certainly don’t recognize.” She explains, voice harrowing, shaking as she tries to get her point across before breaking down in tears. “If you knew what that feels like, you would’ve never convinced me to let a battery run my heart. If you knew what it feels like, Evan, you would have let me go.”
Deni’s really crying now, trying to get Evan to look at her.
He’s staring at his hands which are sitting in his lap, shaking his head back and forth, slowly, not with a lot of range.
She’s right. Evan doesn’t understand.
Not one bit.
〚*〛
Regulus is speaking to his brother about a patient they had who is finally getting released from the hospital. James steps inside, looks at the two of them, then decides to leave.
“What’s his problem?” Sirius asks, “What did you do?”
Regulus pinches the skin between his eyebrows, “Why do you always assume it’s me?”
He chases after James. Not even a few hours ago he thought everything was alright. He thought that he would make him breakfast and James would wanna get back together with him and all would be balanced once more.
Clearly the universe doesn’t work in Regulus’ favor like that.
He catches up to James on the stairwell who ignores him the first three times he calls out his name.
Then Regulus gets pissed off and his words have always shot to kill when he’s mad. He gets it from his mother.
“I never should have told you about Barty!” He stomps.
James shrugs like he doesn’t care, “No, it’s fine. I’m glad I know. . . about him. You really got around on our break.”
“What did you just say to me?” Regulus asks, unbelieving that that just flew out of James mouth so easily.
“It’s unforgivable.” James looks up from his pager, the two of them standing face to face now.
“Then don’t forgive me. I don’t fucking care, James.”
“So, was this all a phase for you?” James stares, “What’s next? Evan? Cause you know, I’m sure he’ll say yes. He’s your friend too, hm?”
James turns to leave and Regulus grabs his coat sleeve, anger bubbling up in him. All those times he was mean to James, he wishes he could take it all back.
Because here James is, returning the favor, and Regulus wants to yell but all he can focus on is his eyes welling up.
“You don’t get to call me a whore,” he rasps, “when I met you, I thought I had found the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with.” Regulus says, “Maybe it didn’t come across that way to you because I’m not moving at the speed of light one-hundred percent of the time, but I was done. So all the boys, all the bars, all the obvious issues, who cared? Because I was done. You left me. You broke things off. I’m all glued back together now. I make no apologies for how I choose to repair what you broke. You don’t get to call me a whore, Potter.”
James doesn’t even try to wipe away the tears, something Regulus had grown accustomed to. He just takes a long moment, breathing in and out, “This thing with us is finished. It’s over.”
“Finally,” Regulus wipes his face.
“It’s done.”
“It is done.” Regulus nods, watching him walk away for good.
〚*〛
Evan is supposed to go home and shower before Potter’s dinner. He can’t seem to leave without talking to Deni again.
As soon as he steps in the room, he makes a new decision.
Deni yawns, “You’re going to get in trouble.”
Evan slips off his shoes, “I don’t care.”
“I’m not going to cheer up for you,” Deni warns him.
Evan just shrugs, “You don’t have to cheer up. I’m not here for me. I’m just here for you.”
He lays on the bed, letting Deni curl up onto his chest. His arm is around her body, holding her.
〚*〛
Regulus is underneath his blankets, Barty hitting him with a pillow.
“What’s wrong now?” He climbs into bed, leaning against the headboard.
Regulus’ voice is mumbled through the thick comforter, “He called me a whore, Barty.”
Barty makes a face, peeling the blanket back to see his best friend, “I can’t imagine what I am if you’re the whore here.”
“I’m not going to his stupid dinner party.” Regulus says, “Go get some alcohol. I don’t even care what it is.”
Barty does, coming back quickly.
〚*〛
James won’t get out of his trailer. Sirius has called him almost thirty times. His parents must have arrived.
Well, one of his parents. Effie showed up, Monty did not. When Sirius watches her cook, he asks why.
“Monty didn’t seem to care when I told you guys I was gay.” He says, “So, were you lying when you said I was part of your family or are you actually not okay with this?”
Effie sets the spoon down, “Sirius Black, you are my son, too. And I have no issue with who you and my son choose to love. I just want you two to be happy, with whoever it is that gives you that.”
“But Monty doesn’t?”
“He is old-fashioned.” She excuses him, “James is our only baby. He thinks that if James marries a man, there will be nobody to pass on the family name.”
Sirius rolls his eyes, “Pardon my French, Effie, but that’s bullshit.”
Effie doesn’t speak at first, trying to figure out the best way to say this, “I love Monty,” she says, nodding, “but James is my child.”
“He can’t handle this, you two not approving of him. He’s tearing himself apart.” Sirius points out.
“Where is he now?” Effie asks, unsure.
Sirius doesn’t have an answer to that right now.
〚*〛
Dinner is served. James is still not present. Neither is Monty, Regulus, Barty, or Evan. Now, Dorcas is in a bad mood because she was betting on sticking with Regulus and Barty all night long—her and Evan still not on speaking terms.
Marlene is so enraptured in her own friends that Dorcas had taken up a conversation with Euphemia Potter, who is just like James.
Sirius is pacing around his study when Remus leans against the doorway, knocking.
He snaps his head to look at him, losing his breath for a moment. Remus is wearing black trousers, a white button-up shirt underneath his sweater. His sleeves are rolled up, showing the scars on his forearms.
They sprout out from under his clothing like roots growing farther and farther into the ground, holding on tight.
Sirius wants to grab on and never let go.
Remus talks first, Sirius pointing at the chair, Remus must be hurting. He’s limping a little more than usual today. “What’s going on?”
Sirius leans against the desk in front of Remus, folding his arms over his chest, “This dinner is a shit-show.”
Remus looks behind him, people are mingling and talking to one another. “It looks like it’s going okay to me.”
“James is gone. Regulus ditched.”
“By the way, are they a thing?” Remus asks, “It’s quite obvious they’re into each other.”
Sirius rubs his eyes with his hands, “I don’t know they go back and forth every day. But James’ parents are my parents too, they basically took me in. And I’m gay. They are upset he’s bisexual—his dad is, at least. So, I think the only adults who actually care about me have been lying to me for years about not caring and so I am freaking the fuck out, Remus.”
“I didn’t know you were—I mean, just. . . you’re gay?” Remus’ mouth drops open a little bit.
Sirius nods, “Mhm.”
Remus is trying to play it off, “So, are you dating anybody?” He laughs like something is funny, to which Remus asks, “What?”
“Nobody wants to date me.” He says, realizing how pathetic the words coming out of his mouth are, he tries to make a joke to lighten the mood, “Sleeping with me? That sounds more like it.”
Remus sits up straighter, “I’m sure somebody wants to date you.”
Sirius scoffs, “I don’t know if you know this but I have this sort of like. . . photographic memory. Anything I read or hear or learn, even experience, I can’t forget it. No matter how hard I try, I remember everything. It ruins a lot of stuff, actually. James is really the only other one who knows how bad it can be.”
Remus thinks about it for a minute, “How does it ruin stuff?”
“It’s hard to explain, it just messes with my head. Freaks people out.” Sirius sighs, “If you asked me to repeat this conversation in eighty years, I could do it.”
Remus looks him up and down, “I don’t know, I think it’s kind of cool.”
“Well, you’re the only one.”
Remus thinks for a moment, “Is it bad? Remembering every part of the war?”
Sirius loses his breath for a moment. Nobody focuses on that, he doesn’t bring it up and he’s never met another person who has thought of it on their own. “I—yeah.”
“What do you do about it?”
Sirius has never admitted this to anybody in his life. Not even James. “I’m in therapy.”
Remus pushes his hair out of his eyes, “Does it help?”
“Not really.”
“Then why do you do it?”
His voice lowered, “Because I don’t know how else to keep myself from going crazy.”
Remus stands up, “You’re a lot of things, Sirius Black, but I can assure you, you’re not crazy.”
〚*〛
Sirius goes to James first, a little more worried about his well-being right now than anyone else.
He’s glad he did because James looks like he’s on the brink of alcohol poisoning. He’s crouched over his toilet, vomiting profusely.
He sees Sirius and blinks, “Regulus?” A groan, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. . .” his slurred words are cut off by the next string of vomit.
Sirius rubs his back, “It’s me, Sirius. Regulus isn’t here right now.”
James is visibly defeated.
Sirius takes care of him all night long. He’s hungover. In the morning, he goes out to get breakfast, stopping at Regulus’ house just before he leaves to go to the hospital.
His brother doesn’t look much better.
He’s certainly hungover too, some makeup covering his under-eyes, which must have been darker than ever.
Regulus is back to his normal self, “What the fuck do you want?”
Sirius crosses his arms, “Will you tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m heading to the hospital,” Regulus speaks slowly, hoping his idiot brother won’t be sidetracked, “that’s where I work.”
“With James.” He specifies.
Regulus lifts his eyebrows, “Your best friend called me a whore. So we really did break up this time.”
Sirius doesn’t believe it at first. James would never. But then he remembers the drunken apologies and many complaints that Sirius wouldn’t give him his phone and maybe he did.
Sirius’ automatic reaction is to defend him, “Look, Regulus, he feels really bad. Give him some grace. There’s a lot going on with his parents right now-”
“There’s a lot going on with me, too, not that you’ve ever looked past James to ask.” He steps through him, ignoring Sirius when he tries to make him feel better.
〚*〛
In the hospital, Dorcas is tailing Marlene, “I heard you were getting a heart for a transplant.”
Marlene sighs, “Durmstrang has a heart, yes, and I’m going to get it.”
She’s desperate to be in, “Can I go? I’ve done it before. I’ll be very helpful.”
“For the last time, Dorcas, I don’t need your help on this. You can learn other specialties.”
“Evan’s been on your case for months!” Dorcas whines, “I want another turn.”
“Stop it!” Marlene snaps, “You don’t always get what you want.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She reels herself back in, “It means that you need to go to your resident and figure out what attending is in charge of you today. It is not going to be me, Dr. Meadowes.”
〚*〛
Sirius is unloading the patient from the ambulance, listening to the paramedic, “Twenty year old male, G.S.W. to the left shoulder.”
He hears the rest of the chatter from the other people, “Three dead on scene, multiple walking wounded. Five most injured are coming in behind us.”
Regulus is staring at Barty, “Why are they all in the hallway?”
“Overflow from the E.R..” He explains.
Evan’s getting his gown tied by Mulciber, “Paramedic told us an employee went postal, shot up a restaurant.”
“I heard he got away,” Mulciber adds.
“Really?”
Macdonald and Meadowes are in the first trauma room, “Neal Hannigan and Deborah Fleiss. They were paying at the register when the gunman came in.”
A nurse is reading the chart, “She’s got a through and through to the right upper arm. Good distal pulses. He sustained a possible graze wound to the right back.”
Macdonald looks at her intern, “Irrigate the wound, get them to X-Ray, and order a Tet-Tox for both.”
Neal looks at Dorcas, “Don’t worry about me, take care of my Deborah first.”
She cocks her head over at him, “Oh, now you’re concerned.”
“I said I was sorry!”
“Sorry?” She winces as Dorcas checks out the wound, “The shooting starts and you duck behind me, and you’re sorry.”
Dorcas looks at the boy, “You ducked behind her?”
“It was instinct, I couldn’t help it.” Neal tries to tell her. “Deb, honey, you know I love you.”
“Love doesn’t mean using your girlfriend as a human shield.”
“We shared a bullet.” Macdonald steps out of the room, tired of hearing this pitiful arguing.
Regulus is in the next room, “Lower left leg deformity from G.S.W., pedal pulse is strong and intact. Paramedic said he got five of morphine in the field.”
Frank Longbottom, head of orthopedic surgery, looks down, “It was not enough, hm. Probably got his tibia. Let’s rule out other injuries and then get him up to radiology.”
Regulus does as is asked, watching James step into the E.R., working on a patient named Kendra.
〚*〛
“Do you know what you’re doing? Because that really hurts, you know.”
Evan nods, “You know what really hurts? Gunshot wounds. You’re lucky.”
The man scoffs, “That was no luck, that was my quick thinking.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m a quick thinker, smart. As soon as I saw him, Petey—he’s the shooter—I knew he was up to no good, I was the one that fired him, y’know?” Evan does not know and he most certainly, does not care. Evan backs away to let Mulciber wheel his patient through, of course that’s when Evan’s starts to snark at them, “Chaz, Larry, you guys got to be quick thinkers.”
“They have gunshot wounds. Very serious wounds, life threatening wounds.” He says, chastising his patient.
“It really helps that I’m an athlete,” he changes the subject, “the second I saw Petey with that gun I was like, cat-quick, just dove right through the window. Those guys, not so fast.”
Evan stares at his patient, “I’m going to take a wild guess and say that Petey was looking for you.”
〚*〛
Albus is debriefing Marlene just before she heads to collect the heart, “Two dead, fourteen injured. The policeman said the gunman got away so there could be more incoming.”
Marlene isn’t sure why he’s telling her this, “Do you want me to stay? I can send Mary.”
Albus shakes his head, adjusting his glasses, “You’re our only cardiothoracic transplant specialist. You go get that heart.”
Mulciber somehow weaseled his way onto the helicopter with Mckinnon, who Dorcas suspects is solely to piss her off.
Just as the doors close, Mulciber asks, “Who’s the lucky patient?”
“Deni Duquette.”
〚*〛
Evan steps beside Mary Macdonald, who says, “No,” before he even gets a single word out.
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“No, Evan Rosier, you are not going to prep Deni Duquette for surgery.”
Evan’s face lights up, “So it’s true? Deni’s getting a heart then.”
“See, your face right now,” Macdonald points at his smile, his bright eyes, “that’s the problem. You’re overly attached to your patient, so the answer is no, go back to suturing up patients.”
Evan isn’t one to quit easily, “I know Deni’s cardiac parameters. I know how her LVAD works better than any other intern. I also know her meds better. I know the frequency, the dosage, the quantity, and her physical limitations. I promise I am going to be one-hundred percent professional.”
Macdonald stops walking to look him up and down, “So, no flirting, no leaving personal items of clothing behind, no marathon games of Scrabble?”
“I will treat her with the same protocol as I would with any other patient.” He folds his hands together, waiting for an answer.
Evan is lucky that he’s her favorite intern, or else Macdonald would have said no, screaming. “Fine, you can inform her that the heart’s coming.”
“Thank you, Dr. Macdonald,” Evan skips away.
“And Rosier, you so much as sit on that bed-”
“Got it!” He yells, already turning at the end of the hallway.
〚*〛
Dorcas is on neuro again, James angrily waiting for the scans to pop up. She tries to make small talk, “Your mother was nice, we met her last night.”
“Yeah,” James mumbles, “got held up in surgery.”
“Oh, okay.” Dorcas nods, usually he’s much more open to having conversations, a trait she used to despise. “I called her parents, they are on the way.”
“Good, we need to get her to the O.R. immediately.” James says, pointing, “The bullet’s gone right through the mid-line.”
“Also, we got the labs back,” Dorcas mentions, “she’s pregnant.”
〚*〛
Regulus’ patient is annoyed that the manager, Brad, won’t stop speaking. He doesn't blame him, everybody’s complained about this guy.
“Can you find out about Kendra for me?” Will asks.
Regulus nods.
〚*〛
Evan appears at Deni’s door, “I have some news for you.”
Deni’s eyes go wide, “Ooh, am I finally getting a better television?”
Evan can’t hold it in for even a second longer, “You’re getting a heart, Deni.”
Her head jumps back in surprise, taking the moment in before she speaks, “I don’t mean to be dramatic and all. . . but I’m going to need you to repeat that for me. This is one of those moments that I want to remember in detail.”
Evan looks around, making sure nobody is watching them. He kisses her once, quickly, “You are getting a heart, Deni, from Durmstrang. Dr. Mckinnon already left to get it.”
Her face is all red, “I guess this means you’re going to have to start taking me on some real dates.”
“I guess so.”
Emmeline clears her throat, standing at the door, “Here you go, Ms. Duquette.”
Evan backs away from the patient, “What is that?” He asks.
“D.N.R. papers.” She answers.
“Do not resuscitate?” Evan looks up.
Emmeline doesn't want to be in the middle of this, “I’ll leave these here and come back.”
Evan is holding the papers hostage in his hands, “Why are you signing these? You’re getting a new heart.”
“If this heart doesn't come through for some reason-”
“It will.” Evan decides.
“The last one didn’t.” Deni reminds him.
“You are on an LVAD, okay?” He waves his hands around, “That could give you another two years, right there.”
“Evan. . .” Deni breathes out, eyes watering, “if I don’t get this heart, I’m done.” She hates the way he’s looking at her right now, “I’m just. . . I’m tired.”
He’s shaking his head, “No. No, I’m not going to let you make this decision, not now.”
“Well, that’s funny,” Deni starts to go from hurt to angry, “I thought this was a patient’s choice.”
Evan stares at her, dropping the papers onto the bed.
“Listen to me, Evan,” Deni says, “I believe in Heaven, I know you do. And if I had to choose between. . . this life here and-and one in Heaven? I choose Heaven. Okay?”
“Okay.” Evan is quiet.
〚*〛
Dorcas has sat through two hours of whining from the couple and one called-off engagement.
She isn’t sure how much more of this she can take.
On the tenth minute of Neal trying to get back together with her, Dorcas finally jumps in, “Don’t fall for the love-bombing, That’s how they do it. The I love you’s and the move in with me’s, they suck you in. The minute you actually need something, something you totally deserve. Oh, forget it. You know, it’s not going to happen because they’re going to pass you over for surgery or they are going to duck behind you when someone is shooting!”
Her patient’s eyes are wide, “You are very, very bitter.”
〚*〛
Mckinnon is getting information on how the patient came to be brain dead, allowing him to be a perfect candidate for Deni.
Apparently both of the injured men were perfect matches for Deni, but U.N.O.S. has already assigned who gets which donor.
“Look who finally showed up.” A woman scoffs.
She clicks her head over, noticing the familiar woman. Marlene smirks, “This is who graduated second in our class at Johns Hopkins, Dr. Mulciber. Meet Dr. Malfoy.” Marlene introduces, “Ask her who graduated first.”
Narcissa pulls her mask over her face, “As egotistical as ever, aren’t you Mckinnon?”
“Some things never change.” Marlene assures her.
〚*〛
Lily is speaking to James as he works on scrubbing in, “Kendra’s fetus is twelve weeks along, seems healthy. Did you hear me, James?”
“I heard you.” He murmurs.
“So, you’re not going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
Dorcas opens the door before he can make another comment to Lily, “Kendra’s parents are here.”
James leans up, “Explain the situation, have them sign consent forms, then I want you to scrub in.”
〚*〛
Marlene Mckinnon steps into the operating room to see his patient in V-Fib. “What the hell happened?”
“He started crashing.”
“I can see that.” She steps forward, “Give me the paddles. Mulciber take over compressions.” Mckinnon starts barking orders, “You gave Epi?”
“Three rounds,” the nurse explains, “and we shocked him twice.”
“Charge to three-sixty.” Marlene holds them, “Clear!”
They shock him into asystole.
Marlene shakes her head, “This heart is dead.”
“So, we can’t use it?” Mulciber asks.
That shouldn’t even be a question, “No, Doctor, we cannot use it. The muscle is dead. The heart is useless.”
Marlene takes a breath before she gets an idea and sprints straight out of the room, Mulciber running to catch up behind her.
She barges into Malfoy’s O.R., demanding her to stop. “Do not move that scalpel.”
They haven’t made the first cut.
She pauses, unsure of what is going on. Mckinnon explains the whole thing, Malfoy laughing at her when she finishes.
“Just because your heart died doesn’t mean I have to give you mine.”
Mckinnon understands that, “Is your patient higher on the transplant list?” She watches her hesitate, “Is he higher on the transplant list?” She repeats.
“I have no idea.”
“Neither do I.” Mckinnon tilts her head. “Mulciber,” she shouts, “get U.N.O.S. on the phone, now.”
He does, Narcissa complaining, “Give me a break.” She reaches for her scalpel, preparing to start anyways.
“What, are you going to fight me?” She tries to be intimidating.
Marlene isn’t even a little bit scared, “If I have to.”
“Alright, I’m stopping. You’re pathetic, Marlene, really pathetic.”
In a conference room, Narcissa and Marlene are arguing like schoolchildren. Each one trying to out-do the other.
“Your girl is on an LVAD?” She notices, “She’s probably up and walking around. My guy still needs is dobutamine drip.”
Marlene rests her hands on her hips, “That’s the best you can do?” Taking a breath, “He can climb Mount Shasta on a dobutamine drip.”
The call goes off of being on hold, a speaker announcing, “As of this morning, Dr. Malfoy’s patient was twenty-two hundredths of a point ahead.”
“That’s basically a tie,” Marlene leans in.
“Except,” the caller adds, “Dr. Malfoy’s patient was admitted into the transplant program before Ms. Duquette.”
“How long before?” Marlene asks.
There’s a long pause. One of those pauses that feels like decades. Waiting to know.
“Seventeen seconds.”
Marlene sighs, “Seventeen seconds,” she repeats to herself.
Narcissa is gloating, “Might as well be seventeen weeks, it doesn’t matter.”
Marlene’s phone starts ringing and she, without looking at the caller ID, hands it off to Mulciber to take care of.
“Hello,” Mulciber says, holding the phone to his ear.
“What are you doing?” Evan asks, “Where’s Dr. Mckinnon? I want to know how the heart recovery is going.”
“He’s working on it.”
Working on it, Evan thinks, “So, he’s operating right now?”
Mulciber tries to put the situation in words that Evan won’t spiral from, “There were two donors, Rosier, our guy's heart flat-lined. Mckinnon is trying to get the other one for Deni now.”
“But there’s a list.”
“Yes,” Mulciber nods, he was aware of that. He’s not an idiot. “The higher guy gets the heart.”
“Deni’s getting sicker,” Evan blurts.
“What?”
“She’s getting worse by the second,” he sounds desperate, truly worried. Mulciber understands why he called now. “His sats are in the eighties and uh. . .”
“Evan, are you serious?”
“They’re in the seventies and dropping.” He corrects himself.
Mulciber puts Dr. Mckinnon the phone, “Is it flash pulmonary edema? Is the LVAD not working? Did you put her on a nitro drip?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Evan says.
Narcissa looks at Marlene, who has begun to pace around the conference room. “She’s not getting this heart.”
“How’s her blood pressure?” She ignores the other surgeon.
Evan answers automatically, “Still dropping.”
Mckinnon keeps him on the phone when she looks at the doctors in the room, “According to my intern, Deni Duquette now qualifies as a 1A candidate for that heart. That puts her ahead of Dr. Malfoy’s patient.”
“Dr. Mckinnon,” the caller says, “you can run labs, do an echo and B.N.P. to fully ascertain the status of her patient, we’ll allow it.”
“That will take an hour.” Malfoy looks at the clock.
The speaker asks, “Is the donor stable?”
“Yes, the donor is currently stable.”
“Dr. Mckinnon, you have one hour to get those results.”
“Evan, you hear that?”
“Yes.” He hangs up the phone.
〚*〛
James’ patient is brain dead. He has to tell the parents of a nineteen year old girl that she isn't going to wake up. Not now. Not ever.
They sob.
Then they ask about the baby.
James doesn’t understand why they are focusing on that. “We need your consent to pull her off of life support.”
“What if we kept Kendra alive?” The father suggests. “Could the baby live?”
“With all due respect,” Dorcas burst in, “that’s not a good idea.”
Kendra’s mother is optimistic amidst her grief, “Our daughter. . . could have this baby?”
〚*〛
Mary Macdonald steps in front of the patient, Brad Eckles, “I’m happy that you are not feeling much pain, truly I am. You had very minor injuries, of course. But there are a great many people in this hospital who are in a great amount of pain. They have bullets in their bones, in their chests, and in their brains, bullets from a gun that was aiming for you. And although they cannot say it because you are their boss. Most of these people, at this moment, are praying, not that they’ll live, not that their pain will subside, they’re praying to God, for you, at this moment, to shut the heck up.” She says, walking off, earning the thanks of not one, not two, but three patients in the E.R. on her way out.
〚*〛
Evan steps in front of Regulus and Barty, who are both complaining about two different things.
They focus their attention on their friend, who looks like he’s about to break down in tears. “Uh, I-I told a lie. . . to Dr. Mckinnon.” He’s hyperventilating, “I can’t think. I-I can’t think. I don’t know what to do. What should I do?”
Regulus looks at Barty before speaking, “Evan, we don’t know what’s going on.”
Evan waves his hands around as he explains, “There’s this guy ahead of Deni on the transplant list.”
Barty sighs, “She'll get the next heart, Evan.”
“No!” He freaks out, “She needs to get this heart.”
They’re staring at him like he’s insane.
Barty watches him carefully, “Look, she’ll probably get a heart at some point but as long as Deni is doing well on the LVAD and there is someone ahead of her on the transplant list, she is not going to get this heart.”
It’s like a light bulb is hanging over his head right now, Evan’s backing away before he can say, “Yes, you’re right. . . thank you.”
Evan rolls in a large cart, full of different medical tools.
Deni, still in a good mood, can feel Evan’s aura shifting. His bad energy follows him into the room like a shadow. “What’s all that?”
“Just heart stuff,” Evan hasn’t turned to look at her yet.
“You putting the new heart in me in my room?” She jokes.
Evan’s hands are shaking, something they never do. He always has steady hands. He’s a surgeon.
But he doesn’t feel like one right now.
Not when he is telling Deni bad news.
“There may not be a heart, Deni.” He tucks some hair behind his ear, “Somebody else might get it instead.”
Her face drops, “So this isn’t going to happen, again?”
“Not necessarily.” Evan points, “I have been over this and over this. And it cannot be a lie and it cannot be fake. We need charts and we need test results. We need U.N.O.S. to believe us. It has to be real.”
Deni is watching Evan walk from end-to-end of the room, back and forth. “What are you talking about?”
“In order for you to get the heart,” Evan sits on the edge of her bed, “you would have to get worse, much worse, and you would have to do it very quickly.”
“Well,” Deni shrugs, “I don’t really see that happening.” She looks at Evan with his bugging eyes, “Do you see that happening?”
He takes a deep breath, “I think I’m going to make it happen.”
〚*〛
“It’s been thirty minutes,” Mckinnon notes, whispering to Mulciber, “where’s Rosier with the results?”
“He’s probably busy getting the test results.” He justifies it.
“Call Macdonald.”
Mulciber tried that already, “It didn’t work.”
Narcissa leans on her left foot, “You can check the chart all you want, you’re not getting this heart.”
〚*〛
“Evan!” Deni says, panicked, watching him shut every blind. “Stop and listen to me. We are not doing this.”
Evan shakes his head, “You’re not going to die. I will be here the whole time to make sure of that.”
“This isn’t about me dying,” Deni levels, “this is wrong. I can’t steal a heart.”
Evan licks his lips, “You have waited a year and a half to get this thing. Who knows when the next one is going to come along.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“It could be too late by then!”
“Then it’s too late, all right?” She shrugs. Evan doesn’t want to hear any of it, “Get this stuff out of here, now.”
“Deni.”
“What?”
“Please,” he begs, “you have to do this.”
“No, Evan.” She shouts, “I’m not about to steal a heart from another man’s chest. Not to mention, this will be the end of your medical career.”
“I don’t care about my medical career.” Evan says, moving around to gather supplies and organize them.
Deni scoffs, “Alright, you know what, this has gone on long enough. I’m going to call a nurse.”
Evan tilts his head back, taking a breath, “Everyone who is entered into the transplant program is clocked in to the second. To the second, Deni! You were clocked in to the second. And so was the other guy, I checked with U.N.O.S., okay? The difference between when you entered the program and when he entered the program is seventeen seconds. That’s it, Deni, seventeen seconds. That’s not even the length of a decent kiss. So this other guy—I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve this heart. I’m sure he does. But so do you. So do you. So if you tell me any more crap about heading towards the light or looking down on me from Heaven, I swear I will kill you myself right now.”
“Evan. . .” She reaches out, her hand cradling his face, “I’m going to be alright.”
He laughs. For the first time all day he is laughing.
“Evan,” she repeats, “you don’t have to worry.”
His voice shakes, “What about me? What about me when you go to the light-”
“Evan-”
“No, I get it. . . you’ll be okay. You’ll be fine. But what about me?” He’s sobbing now, “So don’t do it for yourself. Do it for me, please. Please, Deni, please do this for me. Because if you die—oh, God, you just have to do this.” He trembles, “You have to do this for me or I’ll never be able to forgive you.”
“For dying?” Deni blinks, tears falling down her face.
“No!” He rasps, “For making me love you. Please.” Evan holds her hand with both of his own, “Please, Deni, please. I can’t do this if you don’t. Please do this for me.”
Deni catches him in a hug, trying to calm him down. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Evan lifts his face from her shoulder, “You will?”
“I’ll do it.”
〚*〛
“Dr. Mckinnon, hello.”
“Rosier, where the hell have you been?” She demands to know, then immediately skips to the next question, “Have you got the lab results?”
“I’m working on that.”
“Rosier,” she warns, “I need answers.”
Evan takes a breath in, “You should get down here with the heart, as soon as you can.”
“What are you talking about?” Mckinnon pushes the phone closer against her ear.
It’s eerily silent for a moment, then Evan says, “Marlene.”
“Evan, what did you do?”
Dorcas has told Marlene all about Evan’s sick obsession with this patient. She knew better than to keep him on the case. But he was warned about playing favoritism. That it could sway Albus’ decision about who the next Chief of Surgery is going to be. That is something Marlene didn’t want to risk.
Now, she wonders if the risk would have been worth it.
Evan speaks, “Once I get confirmatory tests to raise Deni’s U.N.O.S. status, I’ll fax them over to you. Then you should waste no time in getting back here because I don’t know enough to know how long Deni will have once I start.”
“Start?” Marlene murmurs, “What did you do, Evan? What did you do?”
“Just hurry back.”
And he hangs up the phone.
Marlene puts it in her pocket, stepping into the O.R. and directly talking to Narcissa. “According to my intern, Deni Duquette is in pulmonary edema, and he has been intubated and been placed on multiple I.V. drips.” She communicates. “However, given his unusual situation and out of respect for Dr. Malfoy, I’d like to confirm those results.”
“You just did.” Mulciber mentions.
“In person.” Mckinnon adds, “I’d like to confirm them in person.”
“Are you kidding?” Malfoy scoffs, “By the time you get there, it’ll be another hour. What are you up to, Mckinnon? Why don’t you just talk to your Chief and confirm with him?”
Marlene is quick on her feet, “There were shootings today at the restaurant and all the attendings are in surgery. Now, if you prefer, I can call U.N.O.S. and have them give me the heart now or I can go and make sure it really belongs to me. So which is it?”
Narcissa sighs, “Go.”
“Thank you,” Marlene steps out, pulling Mulciber to the hall to speak, “I’m going back to Hogwarts. Stay here and protect my heart. If that woman even looks at a scalpel, tackle her.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
〚*〛
James finds Lily, her hands in her scrub pockets, fishing out a pen. “Can we talk?”
“Course,” Lily nods, “what’s up?”
“My patient, Kendra Thomas, she’s brain dead. Her parents want to keep her alive and have the baby.”
“So, you want me to talk to the parents?” Lily asks.
James shrugs, “I tried already, but I figured, you know, you’re neonatal. You might have a better shot at it than I do. You can give them a much more detailed picture.”
“I can do that,” she smiles.
Lily has time now, James walks behind her to the patient room.
“Mr. and Mrs. Thomas, I’d like to talk to you about your daughter and her pregnancy.”
The husband waves his hand, “Not necessary. We made up our mind, she’s having the baby.”
“I know Kendra meant the world to you,” Lily pushes hair behind her ear, “and I know the terrible grief you must be enduring now, but from a medical standpoint? This is a very bad idea.”
“Well, if we wanted your opinion, we’d ask for it.” Mr. Thomas snarks.
James makes a face, “She’s giving you medical advice, Sir.”
“It’s just, we love our daughter,” Mrs. Thomas points out, “please try to understand.”
Lily feels for them, she really does. “I do understand. You think if you love her enough or love her baby enough, then it will keep her close to you, but Kendra is already gone and you’re risking—well, if Kendra were to contract and infection, she could pass it onto the fetus which could cause brain damage-”
The husband interrupts another time, “We’re taking our chances.”
Then the wife swoops in to back him up, “They keep organ donors alive after they’re gone. Why not Kendra?”
“Organ donors aren’t kept alive for six months.” Lily offers. “Your daughter is brain dead. She can’t regulate body temperature, hormone output, these things are very important for a fetus.”
“You can’t regulate that stuff?”
“We could try-”
“Well then try, dammit!” He snaps, “I don’t see what the problem is here.”
“The problem?” Lily scoffs, James recognizes this voice she’s using. It’s her pissed off one. He’s heard it a good few times in his life. It still scares him to this day. “The problem is that you want to use your daughter’s corpse as an incubator. That’s the problem.”
She’s about to keep going when James takes her arm and drags her out of the room. “Alright, that’s good. You got what you needed to say.”
〚*〛
Dorcas is watching Mr. and Mrs. Thomas sit beside their daughter, when she decides to say her piece too. “I know this is a bad time but have you still decided you want to go ahead with the baby?”
They seem much more unsure now, “We haven’t decided on anything.”
“I have a family. A couple of them actually,” Dorcas says, “The thing about family is that you don’t necessarily like what they do—their choices and their decisions—but you stick by them. Right now, one of my friends, his girlfriend, is dying. Heart failure. She is young. I checked Kendra’s drivers license. She’s a donor, and while she isn’t a match for her, she could save other people’s lives. From what I’ve known, and what I’ve heard, I’ve got to believe that if she had the choice between where she is right now and a dozen other people, she’d save those people. That would be her decision. So the question is whether you stick by her one last time.” Dorcas finishes, “Excuse me.”
In the hall, she closes the door and takes a deep breath. She should go talk to Evan. They haven’t spoken in so long and Dorcas misses her best friend.
〚*〛
Regulus walks in on the couple kissing, “You made up,” he mumbles.
How come it’s so easy for everyone else to fight and get over it? Why is it that with every fight, things get worse for Regulus.
“I told him I’d give him one more chance.”
He is eager to say, “And I told her she won’t have to.” He basically starts a monologue, “What we went through today, this bullet changed me. And it will always remind me to do right by my Deborah. In fact-”
Regulus signs the discharge papers, “I have other patients.”
〚*〛
Macdonald comes back up to the boy, “I haven’t forgotten you, Will.” She promises, “We’ll get you to the O.R. as soon as possible.”
“My friend Kendra. . . Dr. Black said they would get me information as soon as anyone knew.” He changes the subject.
“I’m sorry,” Mary sighs.
From the other bed, the manager steps up and approaches Will’s side, hearing the news. “I’m going to get you some time off, man, I’ll talk to the owner. Make sure they keep your job for you. I know people blame management but we do the best we can. It’s not my fault you got shot, y’know?”
Will doesn’t answer.
〚*〛
Evan runs into the locker room, staring at Barty. “I need your help,” he says, huffing, “Barty.”
Barty stands up, following Evan. He walks into Deni’s room, tilting his head, “Evan, you do not need my help for an E.K.G..”
Evan shakes his head, “Uh. . . no.”
Deni is staring at Barty, his eyes wide. Evan steps between them, “I might have to shock you a few times after I do this.”
“Do what?” Barty shuts the door behind him.
Evan ignores him, locking eyes with Deni, “Are you feeling good?”
She nods, “I think so.” Then Deni asks, “Explain it to me again.”
Barty steps closer, curious to understand what is about to happen. “The LVAD has been inserted into your abdomen and is connected to your heart. The cord leads to this power source,” he points, “this one is connected to the pump that pumps your heart for you. I have the crash cart, the defibrillator, the ambu bag, saline-”
“What are you doing, Evan?”
Evan turns back to Deni, “I feel like we should say stuff.” He mentions, “Deni, do you want to say stuff?”
She blinks, “Just kiss me, please.”
He can fulfill that.
Barty watches, jealousy building up inside of him. Evan is so far over the line. He should go.
But he can’t stop watching the way Evan holds Deni, the way his hands push her face against his, the way he wishes more than anything that was him there and not Deni.
“I don’t mean to be intrusive,” Barty starts, “but-”
Evan snaps, “Just give me a second, Barty!”
He murmurs to himself, quiet enough that they can’t understand what he’s saying, “Yeah, no problem, it’s not like you asked me to be here.”
“Okay,” Evan kisses her one last time, “you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Wait,” Barty huffs, annoyed he still isn’t in the loop on what is about to happen, “what are you doing?”
〚*〛
Gunshots are fired. Glass is shattered. Everyone crouches, Mary runs toward the sound, worried.
〚*〛
Evan grabs the scissors.
“Deni,” he prepares himself, “if there really is some kind of big, glowing light-”
“I’ll try like hell to stay out of it.” She assures him.
“Exactly.” Evan nods.
Barty steps behind Evan, “I don’t like the sound of this.”
Evan points the scissors at him, “Just make sure nobody comes through that door.”
Barty speaks slowly, his words holding weight, “Evan, what are you doing?”
“I’m stopping his heart, Barty.”
“Evan. . .” Barty reaches for the scissors, “this is crazy. Stop it.”
“McKinnon will be here any minute,” Evan says, further convincing himself this is a good idea.
〚*〛
It’s the manager, Brad, who was shot in the ambulance bay, heading outside. Mary checks his pulse first.
He’s dead.
It’s the second patient that makes her heart skip a beat.
Marlene McKinnon is laying on the ground, blood seeping from her body.
“Help!” Mary screams, "I need help out here!"
〚*〛
Evan doesn't know where he went wrong. Maybe it started with the modeling, or leaving home, or falling for a patient. Maybe none of those things. But right now, he feels like a different person. A changed person.
Especially when he snips the wire of Deni's LVAD.
He cut it right in half.
Barty's comments are the first thing he hears, his eyes focused completely on Deni.