1. past becomes the present
AN: Hi everybody. It's me (again). Anyway, this was a vague idea that popped into my head and before I knew it, had gone from just a concept to I gotta write this down. Apparently I can't help myself. Anyway, new chapter, new story. Enjoy. ( this is not related to my other medical fic despite the similarities.)
(flashbacks in italics)
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Hospitals are bad bad places.
Beyond the shiny lobbies and waiting room walls adorned with pseudo-inspirational commerical prints that encouraged people to pop even more pills and that it's okay to see your doctor for any old thing — lay a hellhole that was cordoned off from the general public. It's a sort of alternate dimension where every dream a medical student ever had about the glories and inflated status of medicine became destroyed and flattened. The emergency room had claimed many into its bowels. Some hadn't lasted beyond a few minutes.
"Dr Chapman to the ER please! Dr Chapman." A tinny voice rattled through the hospital intercom with the sort of aggressive undertone that made anyone not want to go wherever they were being beckoned to.
Piper glances up from above the sheaf of papers she'd been scanning through, releasing a sigh of weary dismay. She'd just walked out of that place not even half hour and already they wanted her back? Clearly leaving two interns and a goddamn resident to hold the fort was not enough for them?
Sixty-eight hours and counting.
That's how long she's been on shift for and Piper's mid-thirties body had been screaming at her of just how unnatural that was. Hours that really fell into the inhumane category.
She makes a reluctant u-turn back to hell and all its tribulations, hurtling past the intensive care unit where she nearly collided with a bunch of witless second years.
Their apologies unheard she carries on. "This better be good enough for the clinical director to be called for," She mutters under her breath.
That's Piper by the way — clinical director of internal medicine. A title long enough to sound arrogantly respectable and short enough to beautifully roll of the tongue. She's practiced her would-be introductions in the mirror more times than she could count and considering she's been in the role for six months, the novelty still showed no signs of wearing off.
"Dr Chapman, urgently needed!"
"I'm coming. I'm coming."
So far nothing had titillated Piper's need for challenge and gore, instead the usual mundane rubbish of pneumonias, drunkards and malingerers had occupied the best part of her night.
Nobody had told her up until she'd been unceremoniously handed her first white coat, that there was nothing sexy about medicine save for the odd saved life, and even that didn't have the fanfare and histrionics so often imagined. It's not like Grey's or ER, and anyone who'd believed that was the case deserved to be put in front of a firing line and shot.
She pushes through the doors and re-enters what can only be described as barely controlled mayhem. Her selective hearing has already kicked in. She's slinging out her stethoscope, her much needed battle piece in this war zone made up of the sick and injured. Piper tunes out the cries and screams of pain, honing in on the beeps from cardiac monitors and telltale shocks from nearby defibrillators.
The spell is broken when someone suddenly jerks her back. She nearly collides with a gurney holding a bunch of trauma supplies but thankfully swerves at the last minute. Before she could curse and hiss, a voice cuts through.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Red growls at her her face flushed and angry. This was the face of someone who was barely holding together. Piper didn't blame her, even the most stoic of people were brought to their knees in this medical purgatory.
"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Disgruntled, she fixes her white coat back to its rightful place, "You can't just man-handle people."
Red doesn't answer the earlier question and instead crosses her arms and sighs belligerently. "This goddamn place is falling apart at the seams. There are three walking wounded diverted from Manhattan Gen, an amber code incoming and a possible sepsis in resus. I can only apologise if I interrupted your tea break or worse your beauty sleep."
Piper doesn't like the authoritative tone of Nurse Red's orders and even less so her glare that screamed you're fucking useless but I have to put up with you for the remainder of this night otherwise I wouldn't be wasting my breath in even acknowledging you.
A wave of irritation courses through her — did she know she's speaking to the clinical director no less? A role that demanded a semblance of respect. The real reason was was she was exhausted and drained and probably close to burning out. Piper had not even an hour ago walked out of the adjoining rapid response unit where she and the team spent more than an hour trying to resuscitate a young man involved in a car accident.
It was a pedestrian vs car, the worst kind which always drew a solemn pause from the paramedics. The whole thing had been futile right from the start, unresponsive on arrival, plummeting vitals, but Piper had willed the team to do everything they could. Even as she glanced at the dropping blood pressure reading, she had known they were losing the fight. Half an hour of a flat green line and she had to accept she hadn't saved someone's father, son or husband.
The remaining trickle of adrenaline she still had left was not worth spending here not to mention the fact her patience had ran out about thirty six hours ago, add to that a horrible fatigue clouded her thinking. "Spare the goddamn lecture, Red. Where's the call?"
"Fourteen." Red conjures up a clipboard and reads out loud, "Male, mid fifties, confused and disorientated." She couldn't resist throwing in another jibe for good measure, "I took the liberty in performing the initial assessments. God only knew how long you'd be."
Piper snatches the curtains back of cubicle fourteen. She's met by two police officers and a dishevelled middle-aged man in a state of undress. A quick glance at his vitals dashing across the monitor above him told her he was doing fine for now.
"Found slumped over a park bench down at 60th. Disorientated, pupils normal. Possibly had a stroke or a brain bleed." The younger of the two reels off in an overly formal narrative full of unnecessary verbs and adjectives.
Piper has to hold back an eye-roll. Excellent, another cop who thinks he's fast tracked through medical school and can diagnose on the spot.
"He's not on the crime database, checks out clean. Dental hygiene intact." The other cop with the too big uniform adds. Round-faced and unsmiling, he regards her with an almost patronising lilt.
Piper barely nods. Thanks for that useless information Officer Mc-Seen too many Law & Order episodes.
"Thanks officers. I'll take it from here.
Piper's already itching to get the hell away from here. Male and confused is probably the worst kind of patient anyone could be presented with, it quickly goes from doctoring to babysitting, and the diagnosis was often alcohol and or drugs related.
She's tired. She's hungry and Mr Confused shows no signs of becoming un-confused any time soon.
She sighed and wrote a few things in her clipboard. She's still unable to shake off the abrupt gloom. Within the span of a few hours she'd lost two patients. Piper felt certain that there had been nothing additional they could have done but there's always that sliver of a thought pushing through telling her that she hadn't tried hard enough.
Piper snaps her fingers at the overly keen intern who'd appeared out of nowhere. "Send off a full set: complete blood count, liver function, inflammatory markers. All of it. Oh and thrown in a toxicology screen in as well. Since we're here we might as well cover all bases."
The patient who'd been quiescent the entire time all of a sudden has come to the realisation he had all this man-strength to play with. Without much warning, he roars off the bed, catching everyone off guard. The intern beside Piper is younger than her, has clocked less hours tonight and so is able to dodge out of the way. Unfortunately, Piper's running on an empty tank and the last morsel of food to have crossed her mouth was no less than six hours ago which meant her reflexes were pretty much non-existent.
Therefore according to the strict laws of natural selection Piper takes the full brunt. The man lets out a guttural howl before he lunges toward her, the slam stealing her breath away. His elbow catches under her chin, the action slamming her jaw shut, a pulse of pain shoots straight up her skull, temporarily blinding her. Piper loses her footing and falls back — taking the cubicle curtain with her along with years' worth of respect and prestige.
"Ma-am, are you okay?!"
"Dr Chapman!"
"Piper!"
Piper quickly scrambles to her feet, which was proving somewhat difficult to execute — lights were shooting across her vision, her head felt so hot and heavy while a suffocating feeling reeled her insides.
"I'm fine. I'm fine." She muttered repeatedly, her words soft and shaky, still shocked. But it's the embarrassment that takes hold of her, an ensuing crowd had already began to gather around her, gasping and whispering at the spectacle that was her.
"Here." one of the interns awkwardly holds out of her stethoscope.
"Thanks." No sooner had she grabbed it, she starts backing out, out through the double doors and out into the corridor.
"Chapman! At least let us check you over!" Red calls out.
Piper's already too far down to hear. Flying blindly through hallways and trying forget the dozen stares stares of sympathy piercing into her. She rounds the corner, past the hospital library, not looking up from the floor the entire time.
She collides with someone, nearly sending her flying for a second time. It's Nicky Nichols, one of the residents. They're the same age but Nicky had flunked her exams too many times so was several years junior to Piper but that hadn't ever stopped her from treating her as an equal.
"Woah! Who's chasing you?"
"Sorry." She tries to push past but Nicky blocks her path. "What in the living fuck has happened to your face?"
Piper pauses, bringing a tentative hand to her face. The impact of the fall and slam to her face was just beginning to register as pain. A dull throb radiating from her jaw, making her lightheaded each time she moved her head too fast. "Just a patient who couldn't keep his hands to himself."
"Was that patient Muhammad fucking Ali?"
"I really don't feel like talking about it, Nicky."
"Dude, you gotta have that looked-"
Piper slapped her hand against the lockers, hard. "I really don't want to talk about it."
"Woah, okay. Whatever you want." Nicky held her hands up in surrender. "Sorry for asking."
Piper leant against the wall, her hand still against the locker, thinking, she didn't mean to sound angry. But she's so tired. Too tired to chase her words down with apologies.
Nicky moves out of the way, looking at her sideways, all bewildered. Piper doesn't say anything, instead walks past. "I just need to go."
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It's dark when she pushes the door open but it's fine, Piper's been here enough times to know her way around. Nobody ever comes here: the storage room directly beneath the paediatric unit, located right at the edge of the hospital perimeter. Piper felt at ease here — here amongst the boxes of untouched scalpels, bandages and Foley catheters.
Sometimes you had to take a detour from the rat race and this was her place of refuge and tonight of all nights it was especially needed. She climbs down the wooden stairs that lead into the darkened space. She's already sighing a wave of relief when the familiar icy cold hits her face. But there's a new out of place sound that pricks her hearing, where it joined the usual steady hum from the overhead ventilator vents.
Her eyes finally grew accustomed to the dark, that's when she spots someone lying across the metal bench, obviously asleep.
Most likely one of the interns or residents escaping from the havoc above them. Piper didn't blame them, but this is her sanctuary, has been for as long as she could remember. Irrational annoyance drives through her, reminding her of just how much she need to be on her own for now. Just then the gnawing throb decides to make an appearance, nearly causing her to tilt sideways when a roil of nausea abruptly follows.
Piper flicks the light on, casting the space in an intense white light that spared nothing including the semi-dazed expression of none other than Alex Vause.
They regard each other for a moment until Alex speaks. "You look like you either want to kill me or possibly at least maim me." She chuckles uncomfortably.
Piper wordlessly watches Alex unfurl her makeshift pillow that was her white coat back into its original form before sitting up.
"Oh." She curls her fingers together. Piper's too lost for words, the throbbing in her head suddenly taking a turn for the worse. She blurts, "You're in my spot."
Of all the things she could have said. Piper blames it on the mild concussion, it does things to people's mental faculties.
"Oh really?" Alex makes a gesture of looking around, "I must have missed the sticker with your name on it and claiming this crappy bench."
"I've been here coming here for the last six months, surely you…" Horrified, Piper stops when her voice catches in her throat. She's on the verge of a very physical breakdown and the very last person she wants to witness this, is Alex.
Alex squints her eyes and stands up just as she pushes her glasses on. "Hey, you okay?"
"I'm fine." Piper's voice sounds everything but. She waves her hands dismissively, a strange urge to run out of the room nearly overpowering her. It's been her response to most questions of late. "Just having a really shitty day."
She's already beginning to turn around, the door already beckoning for her, but a slant of light falls onto the bruises that had formed across the left half of her face and so Alex is already walking toward her, alarm wrapped around her question, "What happened?"
For a while Piper doesn't turn around, sets her jaw hard, muscles contracting painfully. She doesn't deserve an ounce of Alex's sympathy. The realisation makes Piper's chest curl inwards. She had done so well in avoiding her for the last few weeks, hadn't been able to look her in the eye for fear of becoming undone. It had been too much. Just too much.
"Nothing happened." It's the best answer Piper had and she's afraid she'll give the right one, so instead murmurs, "Look I'm going…thanks."
She shakes her head, Piper doesn't know what she's thanking Alex for. For caring? For being the first person who genuinely wants to know how she's doing? Something she herself hadn't been able to successfully do in the past.
Her hand is around the knob of the door, when she hears, "You want to talk about it?"
No. No.
She hesitates. The telltale warning of an incoming avalanche of tears prickling at the back of her eyeballs. "I'm going…I've got paperwork, admin, so much admin and I just...gotta go." Piper sank her face in her hands and struggled to salvage control, to stop the tears. Her cry felt all the more humiliating because she was standing there, watching her.
A hand on her shoulder. "Piper…"
Piper shouldn't turn around. Shouldn't.
But the use of her first name suddenly feels as though she's getting wrapped into a blanket of familiarity. Blankets that smelled of lazy summers, spent cigarettes, and Alex. The past hits her like a tidal wave against a rock face.
When at last she managed to turn around and raise her head - she found herself looking straight into Alex's eyes.
"Let me at least have a look at you?" Alex holds up her hands, "Surgeon's hands, remember?"
"Alex-"
"I'm going to have a look, Piper. No ifs or buts." Alex's face looked completely serious. "Also apparently I stole your spot too, it's the least I can do."
Piper couldn't help but smile. She wiped her hands across her eyes, feeling yet another flurry of hot tears making their way down. She took a deep breath and released it. "Okay."
Alex softly laughed, "You sound not entirely convinced but I'm going with that then."
Piper sat down. Alex moved aside a couple of boxes to make more space. She slid an empty crate in front of Piper and also sat down. They shared a moment of silence that seemed laden with something Piper couldn't define. That's all it took, that unifying gaze to trigger a thousand memories, bursting out like a crate filled to the brim with water.
Alex awkwardly broke whatever had been there. Maybe it was nothing and Piper was just over-reading everything.
"Let's take a look."
Soon Alex's fingers were dancing across her jaw, gently palpating for any telltale signs of fractures. Piper found her eyes fluttering close, her muscles relaxing. She clutched the edge of the bench, a buzzing sensation travelling through her head.
Her touches were still gentle and tender. She hadn't changed. Nothing had changed.
Piper gave a start of a pain when Alex accidentally touched a tender point. "Sorry...I promise, I'm nearly done.'"
"It's okay. I'm such a wimp. Just carry on."
She continued inspecting and feeling, one hand resting on her thigh. Piper could feel the warmth burning through the fabric. She couldn't decide whether to jerk her leg back or not. In the end she didn't do anything.
As Alex worked, Piper focused on her head, bent in concentration, her dark hair close enough to slide her fingers through.
Their eyes catch, "I think you're going to be fine, it's just a soft tissue injury, nothing a pack of ice won't be able to cure."
Piper said nothing, she finds her gaze drawn, once again, to hers. Her mouth was too dry, head swirling with unfamiliar emotions.
Alex glances up, their eyes locking for a moment too long. She awkwardly looks down again and mutters. "You should get some rest though. You look way worse for wear."
Piper clears her throat, "You think? I thought I looked picture ready."
Alex chuckled, rising to her feet. "Get some rest, doc."
Piper was happy she managed to do that; make Alex laugh.
"Thanks, though. You didn't have to do that." There's an uncomfortable moment where neither says anything, the hum of the diesel generators mercifully filling the silence.
"I better get back." Piper stands up, swaying for a precarious second. A rush of lightheadedness momentarily blurs her vision and she can feel the room spinning.
She probably shouldn't go back. She should go straight home, let them deal with the chaos up there. She'd been here too long, nearly having forgotten what her own home looked like.
Alex held out her hand to help her up. She grabbed her arm and steadied her. Piper gazed down at Alex's hand, feeling faintly surprised that she was still touching her. Alex too seemed taken aback by the unthinking contact, and she quickly released her.
Their stares bounce off each other and it's over before it had started.
"I'm going to continue my trespassing here, go before management catches you."
Piper mutters softly, "Thanks again."
Just then Alex did something with her face, nothing anybody would notice. But Piper did. She always had. A smile that was serious but watered down with amusement.
Piper blinked. A gust of nostalgia nearly knocking off her feet. That expression had just transported her back to their halcyon days, back to a time where those smiles had been abundant.
Back before it had all gone wrong.
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"You shouldn't have fucking done that." Alex murmurs in a dangerously low voice, her lips grim and her expression deadfaced.
"No, Alex. I should have done this a long time ago." Piper whispered, her own actions not quite sunk in yet. "I'm the one who's been stupid enough to have covered for you."
It's only when the flush of the toilet sounds that Alex's face crumbles into itself, pure devastation smothering her features. An almost child-like sob emits from some recess Piper doesn't want to know about.
She forces herself to look up. The empty bag still clutched in her hand, the edges of it digging into the skin.
Alex looked worse than how Piper saw her last — a horribly angular face, limp hair plastered across her forehead like she'd been swept back and forth through a hurricane. But it's the eyes Piper can't bear to fully look at. Eyes full of despair, tinged with that dull glint common amongst those kinds of people. It frightened her. But more than that, Piper was worried over what she'd do when she walked back out of this room, spun past the library and walked straight to the college dean, spilling months and months of anguish onto the table.
"You didn't." Alex's voice cusped on the verge of an emotional eruption. "You didn't do that...Piper. Tell me you've got more. Please."
Piper doesn't walk out of the room. Doesn't spill anything to anyone. Instead she walks up to Alex, who was half-sat, half-slumped against the ceramic toilet - rocking uncontrollably. Piper drops besides her, holding onto her, absorbing the seismic shakes radiating off Alex.
The whole entire time Piper gently strokes her back, up and down, up and down, as she absently watched the water droplets dripping from the bath faucet, thinking whether this was going to be the last time for the hundredth time.
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AN/ Hope you've enjoyed it. I'm imagining this to head more into the couple of shot fic territory but we'll see. I'll keep you posted.
Happy 2017 :)