Something I've been thinking for a while. I´m not very sure if it´s gonna turn out any good, but I thought it´d be interesting portraying Will different as I always do. Reviews make my day! ^.^
AU, not necessarily settled in Lima.
Thanks to Becca for proof-reading this for me and to Hannah (fadedglass) for her suggestion!
"You know that´s extortion, right?" She snorted half amused half incredulous, not believing Sandra was actually asking her this.
"What? It could accidentally slip out off my mouth..." the woman shrugged her shoulders innocently, "but if you do this for me, I´ll be extra careful not talking with anybody about it"
Being caught by one of the nurses with the Neurology surgeon all over her wasn´t what Emma called being cautious, she had been sure there was no one else around; and so was he. But oh no; Sandra had taken an extra shift to pay the holidays she had booked to the Bahamas. How stupid had she been by agreeing with him… and not locking the door was even more stupid.
Her eyes were on fire, "So let me get this straight… you want to change sector with me?"
"You´d go to intensive care rooms and I´d go to yours. Simple as that!"
"But I won´t be getting paid to do your job…" Sandra nodded, "So explain me how am I supposed to pay Med School and pass my courses if I´ll be doing your job?"
"It´s not that I'm asking you to do both jobs, Emma… and as far I see it, you don´t have many options…"
The redhead was indignant; she never thought her co-worker would be such a scrounger. "Fine!" She had no other choice but to agree, "Deal with Mrs. Bell about this so she knows I´ll cover you"
"You´re a sweetheart", the woman was a fake while smiling at her and Emma´s brow cocked, "Think about this as an opportunity! It´ll be good for Med School"
As Emma was already aware, the new shifts were longer, but hours went by much faster when going from here to there was all she did. It was exhausting actually and not just physically, but emotionally as well. Checking on a kid who just had his appendix removed was way different than checking vital signs of a dying person. H section hallways were quieter than the common ones, quieter when the visit time was over and even quieter when relatives came to see the terminal or grave patient. Emma had only known death once, years ago when her mother passed away, but this… she sensed a black pall of fatality sprawling all around her. And what could people say when expecting something like this…?
"You´ll get used to it", Margaret, the Main nurse tried to encourage her and Emma nodded. She was young next to her new partners, but not that much really. Being near her thirties, anyone would think working in the Hospital would have inured her; but nursing was something Emma was still learning.
"It seems so hopeless sometimes", was her muttered comment when returning from room 102 where Mr. Harris had had a crying crisis, "I feel so bad for them…"
"You´re not here to feel bad for them, honey… You´re here to help them feel better or in the worst scenario to make death more tolerable"
"I´m not a priest", situations like these occasionally got her thinking if this is what she was born to be.
"I know we´re not. But sometimes they think of us like that… And Doctors don´t help any when just disappearing and leaving us in charge", she watched her sigh and inquired curiously, "Why did you ask to come here?"
"I´m in Med School", was her quick lie, "I want know what the future has in store for me."
"Future doctor, uh?" Margaret seemed pleased and Emma blushed slightly, "Well, I can´t wait to work with you"
He´s been unconscious since we got him out of the car.
Besides the plastering femur? His ribs… at least three; inferior limbs muscles are surely sprained. Severe cranial traumatism. I can´t tell for sure if there´s any brain damage, we´re waiting for the scan results.
MRI will confirm it. But I bet my ass there is.
The stretcher was carried hasty across the corridor. Thermic blankets coated a mutilated body, a breathing tube inserted through his blood covered mouth and loud voices were all Emma could register.
"Emma, right here!", her name rose above the small tumult and Emma jogged toward Doctor Stein, "hold these bandages tight around his ribcage", he ordered maneuvering and checking the man´s vital signs as one male nurse pushed the stretcher inside a room, "He´s been stabilized in the ER. Car accident. We need the MRI room now"
"I´ll call Doctor Fishbourn. Does he have relatives?"
"No emergency contact. Emma…" the old man added seeing her staring at the wounded man for a brief second.
"You think you can handle this?" Margaret asked later with a trace of doubt when they were alone in the nurses´ room.
"Yes", the redhead was determinate and nodded showing so.
"He´s in the operating room, the brain inflammation is serious", the nurse forewarned a possible outcome; maybe it was too soon for her to witness a death of such characteristics.
"I know. Mike is gonna be on the night shift and you´ll be here and Dr. Stein already gave me his history"
"Really?" the woman seemed impressed and Emma assented, "the old man is gonna put you under his protection, I'll tell you"
"Margare-", she couldn´t hold back a giggle at her words.
The light on the white screen tinker a couple of times under the 127.
"That´s yours, Emma"
"We´ve called the last number dialed on his cellphone", Dr. Stein said scanning the several screens on his left and completing his notes, "Dr. Howell´s report will be here in a few minutes"
"Ca-Dr. Howell performed the surgery?" she almost let his name out and fixed her eyes on the chart hanging on the edge of the bed, pretending it wasn´t a big deal.
"Yes, so he´ll be working on the case too. Probably more than me at first"
"Meds to be administrated are there", he pointed at the specifications Emma was reading, "We´ll discuss the evolution during shifts changes; please join us, Emma. I understand you´re graduating this year"
"Reason you should come", the old man reminded her to her grandfather, "Dr. Howell will update you, you can report to me"
Stein left the room rather quickly when his cell buzzed and Emma was left alone with the injured man. It was awfully silent, the sounds were heavy around her… the beeps and the breathing machine swelling up and down.
She watched the tube securely taped to his mouth, the wires coming underneath the covers, his casted leg rising in the air.
And then she observed him… his eyes closed, a bruise around his eye, cuts on his eyebrow and cheekbone, contusions and notches on his shoulders and chest; every exposed inch of skin was marked with the instant in which his car had crashed and rolled around on the ground. His head had to be shaved and wrapped with bandages after surgery.
Emma sighed with compassion toward the poor man laying on the bed and read the top of chart she was still holding.
William Schuester, 33.