Set in between season 1 and 2, but Latham is already there.
Chapter 1 - 3,374 words
Ever since Dr. Downey died, it had been hard for Connor Rhodes.
Hawaii was even more difficult, and the ashes flying in the wind was an image that would remain imprinted in his memory forever. It was a strange thing, to stand in crystal clear waters when his whole life was so murky that he couldn't even see his next step... When his brain was so foggy that his thoughts were slow and almost without meaning, just like a small current vainly going through his head.
Much like the way the waves lapped softly at the sand, as if teasing the palm trees that stood on the shoreline, his thoughts teased the very tips of his brain, making the doctor incapable of grasping the tendrils of ideas and actually sorting them. It was all a rather unsettling feeling, and the grieving doctor desperately wished to rid himself of it.
After he had come back with a little too much alcohol in him, Rhodes had called in to take at least a week off. He hated time off, detested it even, but sometimes you have to do what is necessary, and Connor knew that in the state he was in, going in would probably get him fired from his beloved job. It had been scary in the first couple of days. His hands shook when he grasped a Hawaiian flower necklace, or a knife, or even anything that had to do with surgery and Downey, and Connor was seriously doubting if he would be able to return to the OR. How could he face his job without his mentor? Was he really suitable for such a risky job? With how bad his hands shook sometimes, he doubted he could do a simple appendix surgery, let alone perform the many open-heart surgeries they got at Chicago Med.
Thankfully, Goodwin and Maggie had done a pretty good job of keeping all the others away from him, and he was glad for the solace. Craved it even. It gave him time to think, to clear his thoughts and grieve in silence. Clearing the murky waters of his mind took time, more than he thought it ever would, but finally his brain was as sharp as it was in his first days in the OR.
In the end, it had taken him a full week and a half before his hands were once again precise in their movements. When he first returned to work, Connor stuck with the ED for a short amount of time, quickly adapting to the routine again before he was even remotely ready to go into the OR once again. He was surprised at how comfortable he felt in the operation rooms given the circumstances, and the doctor was secretly glad that he would be able to make Downey proud even after his death. It felt like second nature to open a person up, and even if he did hesitate every now and then, as if seeking the counsel that usually came when he least expected it, Rhodes quickly adapted to the new changes.
That is, until he met Doctor Latham.
The much taller black man, with his booming voice and authoritative stance was more than a little intimidating, and Rhodes couldn't help but curse his shortness every time that the dark surgeon literally looked down at him. The day with Latham was such a contrast with how it was with Downey that Connor was thrown off his feet in the first day or two, up until he got used to Latham's routine. He thought he had done a passable job analyzing his superior until that faithful day in the operation room.
Downey had taught Connor to always voice his opinion, to not stay behind his mentor and watch silently like a dog, because then he wouldn't be truly learning. So obviously, when Latham had told him to check the LIMA pulse, the younger surgeon immediately spoke up, somewhat eager to show his new superior that he knew what he was doing. Some part of him also wanted to show Latham that Downey had been a good teacher, and that Rhodes was proud to have been under his wing and would not have killed him, but he didn't even dare to acknowledge that.
Of course, Connor had not expected the sudden, loud, dressing down he got. And he surely had not expected being told to step aside for the rest of the surgery, forced to only watch as if he was still on the tours that one took when he was on the last year of his studies, still eager to do the first real operation. The humiliation was a new thing for Rhodes, and he could feel the tips of his ears turn red as the others unashamedly stared at the dark-haired surgeon, pity and even amusement in their gazes. The surgery felt like it took hours after that, and Rhodes was glad to escape from their glances, taking his sweet time to change and put a tap on his emotions.
When he managed to ask Latham if he had done a wrong thing by questioning the older surgeon, Rhodes was surprised to learn Latham was not upset, even if all evidence suggested otherwise.
He was still reeling from the shock of learning that Latham was not, in fact, angered, when they lost the patient. It was always hard to see someone you've tried hard to keep alive die in front of you, but seeing him suddenly alive, only to die once and for all after seeing his granddaughter, was even more poignant.
All of a sudden Connor was immensely thankful that he worked in an enormous hospital with way too many janitor closets and conveniently hidden corners, because finding a quiet place to let loose of his emotions was not as difficult as he had first thought on his first glance inside the establishment.
Then, despite the stoic mask he usually put up around his fellow doctors, this time he just couldn't resist.
And Connor Rhodes cried.
He cried for Downey.
For the patient.
For the hard times he knew were coming under Latham's hand.
And for everything that he could think of and everything that would not come to mind.
He just cried.
Contrary to what he believed, not more than a quarter of an hour had passed before he stood up, wiped all evidence from his face, and continued on with his shift as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
The next time it happened, Rhodes was not about to be shocked into silence again. It was not a simple surgery, but he had done much more difficult ones, and Rhodes knew that he could do it even without Latham's help. On the other hand, the older surgeon begged to differ when Rhodes wavered for a single second, pausing to tightly close his eyes and breathe as his vision suddenly tilted.
"Are you intoxicated?" Latham's snide accusation came from the other side of the patient once Rhodes steadied himself, hands moving steadily once again.
"I'm fine, I would not dare to potentially endanger the patient by performing a surgery while drunk." Connor kept his cool, knowing this was neither the place nor the time to argue.
"You are clearly not fine, and you're having a blood test after this surgery." The tone was final, almost daring Rhodes to find a response, and the younger surgeon was not afraid to do so.
"I am fully sober, rested, and more than capable of performing this surgery Dr. Latham. You can run any tests you want in order to get your evidence, but for now I suggest taking my word when I say that I would not perform a surgery if I knew that any personal factors are putting the patient at risk." The response hung in thick air, and everyone watched with a held breath as both surgeons tightened their jaws, determined gazes and resolution shining brightly in dark orbs.
"I will reprimand you later for your blatant insubordination. For now, give me the needle, I'll finish up." Latham was already stretching his arm towards Connor.
"No, I'll close him up." He stubbornly continued to work, inserting one suture at a time.
"I said, give me the needle Doctor Rhodes." Latham's voice rose, echoing in the operation room as he grabbed Connor's wrist. Rhodes quickly shook him off even as he fought to keep back a wince at the bruising pressure.
"I started this, I'm finishing this, it's as simple as that. Now let me work." Connor knew that the conviction that bled in his words would get him in trouble.
"I am your superior Doctor Rhodes, you will do as I say and not as you wish." Latham's voice was deadly calm now, and despite himself, Connor felt a shiver travel down his spine.
"I will do what is best for the patient, which is even sutures done by the same hand, so please let me concentrate." Rhodes finally snapped, glaring at the dark doctor for a brief second before he continued closing up the wound.
"I'll see you in my office after this surgery is over." The coldness in the composed tone was not as chilling as the dark surgeon ripping off his mask and cap, throwing them on the floor before his gloves followed. The squelch of the bloody gloves echoed in the silent air, and they all watched as he strode out of the operation theatre, a thick bubble of tension close to bursting as Rhodes continued the sutures.
Almost three quarters of an hour later, after he had talked to the family and seen that the patient was fully stable and settled in recovery, Rhodes was standing outside of Latham's office, fear crippling his insides despite the fact that he was not about to apologise for his actions. Smoothing out imaginary wrinkles from his scrubs and rubbing a hand over his weary face, Rhodes took a deep breath, readying himself both mentally and physically before raising his hand.
He knocked tentatively, and barely got to the second knock before Latham was ordering him to enter. Steeling himself, Rhodes opened the door, stepping in the eerily dark office slowly and carefully.
"Close the door."
The deep voice echoed in the room, making it hard for Rhodes to pinpoint exactly where Latham was standing, even if the voice had come from somewhere to his right. He searched blindly for the light switch, trepidation twisting his stomach as he felt the slight shift in the air before there was the bruising grip on his left wrist once again, the long fingers curled elegantly but strongly against the fragile bones. Connor tried to yank his hand back, but before he could think of ways to get out of this predicament his arm was violently twisted behind his back, making his shoulder scream in sheer agony at the unnatural position. However, his scream was swallowed as his face met the wooden door harshly. Despite the sharp pain, no blood gushed from his nose, and Rhodes immediately started to struggle, attempting to free himself from the vulnerable position he was in.
"Don't struggle, you know you can make it worse if you do."
The smooth voice did not hold a drop of emotion, and Rhodes froze despite himself, terror washing over every fibre of his being, awakening the pain in his shoulder as well as the throbbing in his face. However, he would not just stand there idly, he had to keep Latham talking instead of attacking if possible.
"What the hell are you doing?" Although it came out from between gritted teeth, the words were decipherable enough.
"Teaching you a lesson of course. You always listen to your superiors."
Rhodes barely managed to contemplate what had been said to him before his arm was twisted further up, forcing his shoulder out of its socket with a dull pop and a numbing agony that spread to every limb before igniting a fire in his arm. He didn't have the strength to yell as stars exploded behind tightly closed eyelids, and the kick aimed at the back of already weak knees made the younger surgeon collapse to the floor, tightly holding his injured limb.
Latham was merciless. Kicks rained down on the defenceless surgeon, Connor's prone form slightly jolting as the kicks connected with his stomach, chest, and back. However, the pain was enough to force the younger surgeon to clear his mind before he rolled away, ignoring the numbing pain in his shoulder as he stood up on shaky legs and faced the other doctor head on.
There was no getting out of this with words.
There was a beat of silence before Rhodes lashed out with his good arm, getting in at least two punches before Latham sucker punched him in the face, probably breaking Connor's nose as blood gushed out, painting his lips a dark red. The shorter doctor stumbled back, tripping on a glass table and breaking it in the process. Thankfully, the shards didn't pierce him, but the ear-splitting sound seemed to set Latham off even more, and with a bellow of rage, the dark-skinned man's energy was renewed.
Connor lost track of time as he hit and attempted to dodge. However, he knew he was beaten the second Latham managed a lucky punch to the side of his head, making the dark-haired doctor collapse to the floor on his bad shoulder, struggling to gather his bearings as a cocoon of pain enveloped him and kept him in its airtight hold. Numbness settled in his bones as hits continued to land on his battered body, breaking ribs and probably puncturing precious organs. But he didn't feel anything. He instinctively curled on his side, attempting to protect himself before everything stopped, as if the earth had come to a sudden standpoint.
He took the time to take a breath, filling empty lungs with a shred of oxygen before he felt Latham forcibly turn him on his back, gentle hands slapping his cheeks to make sure that the younger surgeon was still conscious. Connor attempted to open his eyes, managing only a slight flutter of his eyelids as the darkness tried to take hold of him and drag him under. However, the shock of Latham suddenly grabbing his scrub-top and raising him slightly from the floor roused Connor fully, the younger surgeon blurrily glaring at his superior through a swollen eye.
"Now that you know the consequence, will you listen next time, Dr. Rhodes?" There was a certain calmness in his voice, but there was no mistaking the edge that ruined its neutrality.
"Not if..." He stopped to fill his struggling lungs with enough air, "It's bad for the patient."
Apparently it was the wrong answer, as a strong punch snapped his head sideways. almost giving him whiplash in the process.
"Try again, Dr. Rhodes."
"No."
As if hit by a sudden surge of adrenaline, Rhodes pushed back the dark skinned doctor, making him fall on his rear. Connor immediately stood up, ignoring the vertigo that came with the change in position and the pain that almost floored him again. There was no way he'd get to the door, Latham was in the way, but he could get to the telephone on the desk. He stumbled towards his target, grasping the telephone in bloody fingers as he called the front desk.
However, he only heard the dialling tone before Latham was in front of him, tall and menacing but strangely enough, calm. Rhodes froze, cursing the tendrils of fear that squeezed whatever remained of his organs as he realized he was cornered by Latham and the wall, unable to escape whatever was coming.
"You shouldn't have done that, Dr. Rhodes."
There was a sudden sharp pain in his gut, and Connor choked, the air escaping him as he slowly looked down, only to see the tell-tale glint of a glass shard that was half embedded in his midsection. He was used to seeing random items stick out of his patients' bodies, but seeing something as simple as a piece of glass sticking out of his own stomach... It was a bizarre and unsettling sight to say the least.
He could feel it inside his body, blood pooling around its edges, attempting to escape his veins, but at the same time, it felt surreal, as if it wasn't really there. As if he was imagining the whole thing. Excruciating pain surrounded the area, but it was numb all the same, a part of him and a foreign object, something that was keeping in his blood yet also the same thing that caused it to leak out of his body.
Seeing the blood pump steadily out of him was another matter altogether, and as soon as the red drops hit the carpet, Rhodes abruptly felt incredibly light-headed, and was only aware of his head hitting the soft carpet as he collapsed, consciousness fleeing him completely.
As if snapping out of a day dream, Latham stared in shock at the crumpled heap beside his feet, and at the blood that trickled from his dark fingers. His knuckles were already swelling, and there was no doubt about what had happened. He hurried to the light switch, filling the office with the artificial light before holding the wall to steady himself as he saw the disaster that had been created. However, he ignored it in order to go behind the table again, where Connor was completely unconscious, his face extraordinarily pale against the brown carpet. Latham carefully straightened out the younger surgeon, grimacing as he immediately catalogued most of the injuries. It was not a beautiful sight, and the dark skinned surgeon winced as he saw what he had done in his anger.
It had been a long time since attacks like this happened, and he never thought they'd come back, let alone to this extent. He knew without a doubt that should this be discovered, he would lose both his job and his license, and he had no idea what he could do. On one hand, he could seek help right now, but then everybody would know that it had been him. His bloody knuckles were proof enough. On the other hand, he could escape and leave Rhodes here, but then it would be obvious that this was where the scuffle had taken place, and only he had access to his own office.
He decided on option three. Knowing that he could not remove the shard of glass without potentially causing more damage, he carefully wrapped a piece of gauze around the unresponsive surgeon's midriff, stabilising it for the moment. He glanced into the corridor, making sure it was empty before picking up the other surgeon, making sure that no blood dripped on the floor from the several open wounds. He quickly reached a janitor closet and gently deposited Rhodes there, making sure that he was still alive and breathing, even if it was somewhat hitched. He could see that Rhodes was slowly going into shock, but he didn't have time to worry about that. Someone would find Connor soon enough. Or he hoped they would. Who knows? Maybe Connor wouldn't remember the accident, and then everything would be all well and good. After making sure that Rhodes was still unconscious, he closed the door and hurried back to his office.
It was a downright gruesome sight. Glass was scattered everywhere, and he could see spots of blood decorating the carpet where he had beaten up the other surgeon, and especially where Latham had impaled him with the glass. He quickly and efficiently gathered the shards of glass, leaving no trace of his weapon behind. After a few minutes, he managed to get rid of the blood as well. If you didn't notice the glassless table, his office looked completely normal. Heaving a sigh, Dr. Latham picked up his duffle bag and personal belongings, which were very little, and hightailed it out of the hospital, hoping that nobody would find out just how unhinged he really was.
As a result, nobody was in the office to hear Maggie's curious voice coming from the receiver.
"I just saw a missed call from you, sorry I didn't respond, we were swamped with patients... Dr. Latham? Are you there?"
HI GUYS, GUESS WHO IS NOT DEAD!
I know that it has been a long time, but I honestly was swamped with College, and then I was focusing on finishing this story so I can start posting it and get on to other stories. This is the first chapter out of 7, and I promise that the story will pick up after this. I only have to edit the last chapter, so this is almost all finished. Updates will be weekly on a Tuesday!
Also, chapter length will be longer, the others are of average 4-6K, and in total this fic is of 34K words. :)
I have new stories coming soon, I think one on The Musketeers and another on Suits. I should be getting into One Piece again :) However, I have exams in September, but I'll try to find time to do everything :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago med, and I am not making any profit whatsoever by this. All rights reserved to Dick Wolf and co.
Anyway, I think that's enough for the day, stay tuned!
-Chrisii