PAGING DOCTORS BONDEVIK AND KOHLER
Part One: The Accident
IMPORTANT AN: This story takes place in the same Medical AU as my fic "Dr. O" (but can be read by itself) and corresponds with the storyline there.
Please be aware that this story takes place in a medical environment. Specifically, Norway (Lukas Bondevik) represents a pediatrician and Denmark (Mathias Kohler) a trauma surgeon. Please visit my profile for a detailed description of the cast of Hetalia characters used and their role in this mediverse.
Each "Part" of this story generally corresponds with a chapter in Dr. O (or gives a different perspective/additional information to certain situations/characters). Follow-Up Appointments are short, mid-chapter portions to progress the story.
WARNING: This chapter takes place in surgery following a tragic car accident where children were involved.
Mathias took a moment to wipe the sweat off his brow when the door to the OR slid open and shut.
"Dr. Kohler?" He looked up.
"Ah, Dr. Oxenstierna, good. I am glad you're here."
Dr. O, Berwald, stood rigid by the door, eyeing the small body laid out on Mathias' operating table. He knew the kid looked a mess. He had one of the nurses drape over most of him to hide the extent of his injuries before Berwald arrived. Only his legs were exposed from mid-thigh down.
"I'm no paeds surgeon, sir." He said, looking uneasy, finally dragging his eyes away from the small body to meet Mathias', panicked. Bleeding Heart Berwald. He was one of the best goddamned doctors the Trauma Ward ever had and a whiz with prosthetic limbs. He was simple, blunt, calculating, and compassionate to a fault. Mathias needed some of that right now.
"I know, I just need your opinion. Come, take a look at this," he motioned towards the two small legs in front of him, Berwald remained frozen where he stood. His face was stone solid, but Mathais knew he was processing the situation. The steady beeps from the machinery were the only noise in the room for a moment, all assisting staff frozen, waiting to see what would happen.
"Oxenstierna," Mathais urged and the man lurched forward. He approached to table calmly, steadily, face devoid of emotion. He looked down at the legs and froze, pursing his lips. He looked up and met Mathias' waiting gaze.
"It's a mess, sir."
"Yeah," Mathias said slowly before heaving a sigh, "what would you do?" He motioned for the nurse at his side to bring the surgical tool tray closer, "Dr. Oxenstierna is stepping in for surgical evaluation," he said, not to anyone in particular, but for the operative report recording.
Berwald thought a moment and accepted a pair of tissue forceps and a surgical retractor. Dutifully, he bent over the small body and with a gentle, practiced hand began to examine the damage to the boy's limbs.
"How long's he been in surgery? The tissue's severely damaged." Berwald paused and raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Mathias, his glasses flashing in the harsh overhead lighting. One leg was badly shredded, but the bones looked to be whole enough to salvage. The second leg, however, reminded Mathias of raw ground beef that had been molded in to some semblance of a leg – or what was once a leg. Without medical training, one may not notice that there was any bone left at all.
"Ah, what time is it now?" Mathias glanced up at the large clock on the wall, cheery green numbers reading ten past one in the morning. "No more than forty minutes. It took a while to stabilize him before he came here." He saw Berwald's eyes briefly flicker across the form under the drapes and return to the legs in front of him. He gave a stiff nod.
"I'm not sure there's enough blood vessels to salvage." Berwald's eyebrows drew together as he examined where a tibia should have been evident under a crushed patella. 'Or enough bone' was an unspoken addition. "There's no blood flow here at all."
Mathias' stomach dropped. He already knew as much. He also knew what Berwald was going to say next, but he needed to hear it from someone else. He rolled his eyes towards the viewing gallery, he could feel eyes on him, scrutinizing. "What is your prognosis, Dr. O?"
"You have to amputate." Silence descended upon the OR, everything seemed to stop for a moment.
"You're right, of course. Thank you, Berwald."
"Sir?"
"You're free to go. Dr. Oxenstierna is exiting the Operating Room, Dr. Kohler is resuming."
The words of release had barely left his mouth before Berwald was heading for the door, ripping off his surgical cap and mask, his gloves coming off in a snap and aimed for the garbage by the OR exit. Before he could make his escape, however, the doors burst open.
"No! You idiot! It can be saved!" Dr. Lukas Bondevik stood, one foot in the OR and one out, hand holding a mask over his mouth. A nurse was clutching at him, desperately trying to pull him from the room.
"Dr. Bondevik, you can't go in there. Please! You are not authorized or properly scrubbed!"
Mathias was surprised it was Berwald who spoke first. He placed a large hand on Lukas' shoulder, restraining him from entering the OR any further. He nodded to the nurse, who looked at him with pleading eyes, before retreating in to the hall.
"It would take a miracle worker to save it, Dr. Bondevik."
"I-" Lukas shrugged Berwald's hand off him, eyes flashing between Berwald and Mathias. "You are a goddamned miracle worker, Mathias. You have to be."
"There's too much damage." Berwald said softly, taking a hold o Lukas' elbow and steering him from the room.
"You have to try something – anything!" he looked frantic, "he's only 8. You need to give him a chance!"
"I am, Lukas. This kid's best option is amputation," Mathias said at last, "It's the only option."
"Lukas," Berwald again, "there's no blood flow. It'll fester if it's left." Before Lukas could respond with anything further, Berwald forced him from the room.
Mathias exhaled the breath he did not even realize he was holding.
"Alright team, let's get this show on the road."
.
Mathias was beyond exhausted. He stripped himself of his stained scrubs, mask, and cap as he stumbled into the locker rooms. He collapsed against the shower wall before the water was even hot. He counted on his fingers – he'd been awake close to 30 hours. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, the water running over him, caught halfway between awake and sleeping.
He forced himself to open his eyes and turn the water off and bury his face in a towel. His back ached, his feet hurt, his limbs felt like lead, and a headache was beginning to press in his forehead. He needed to sleep. He needed to eat. He wasn't sure which he would rather do first.
He was just pulling on a t-shirt when a voice called him up from his dizzy reverie.
"Dr. Kohler."
"Lukas."
He looked up. Lukas was leaning against the locker room wall, much too bright for Mathias' tired eyes in his pristine white lab coat, face contorted in controlled rage. He was hugging himself tightly around his middle.
"Dr. Bondevik, to you."
"Don't give me that shit." Mathias surprised even himself when his fist slammed against the wall beside him, his words sharp and filled with venom. Where was the energy for such frustration coming from? He needed to eat something and sleep – soon.
"This is a work conversation."
"Then you can schedule an appointment and see me later," he ground out between clenched teeth. He shoved his hands in to the pockets of his pants and made to exit, making a point to knock Lukas in to the lockers with his shoulder as he passed, "Dr. Bondevik."
Leave it to a fucking pediatrician to barge in to an OR and demand miracles then get pissed when magic doesn't exit.
Mathias groaned when he heard Lukas following after him.
"You could have saved it."
Mathias whirled around, "no, I could not have. Get your fucking head out of the clouds. I'm good at what I do, but I'm not a fairy fucking godmother." He was standing so close to Lukas their noses were almost touching. Lukas did not waver at the tone or sheer loudness of Mathias' voice. This only made him angrier. "I appreciate a loyal fan, but do you ever think you're putting my abilities too high on a pedestal? You're too emotional. I saved a life and I stand by the decisions I made today in my OR." Lukas looked like he was about to interject with what Mathias could only assume would be a scathing comment, "you cranberry fuck-muffin. Go back to your perfect, happy babies in their carefree cradles."
Lukas snapped. He did not say anything, he didn't have to. He arched one of his perfectly sculpted brows and pressed his lips in to a thin line. He calmly stepped around Mathias and continued down the hall without a sound.
"Wait, Lukas," God damn car accidents, emotional pediatricians, children, hospitals and being awake for far too long. Somehow, Mathias had crossed an invisible line, and he knew he couldn't let their conversation end there. He was too tired for this, but he went after the smaller doctor anyway. Lukas ducked in to an elevator just as the doors were closing. Mathais waited long enough to see what direction the lift was going before barreling for the stairs.
He made it to the next floor in time to see Lukas' coat billowing around a corner. He took off after him, calling the pediatrician's name with no response.
They both blew through a pair of double doors and in to General Pediatrics, all the staff at reception pausing to look up as Lukas stomped his way across the room.
"Lukas, wait!" he reached out only to have his hand knocked away.
Through another set of doors, Mathias finally cornered Lukas, pushing him into a small alcove, trapping him between his hands on the wall.
"Lukas, listen to me, I had to make a tough call." Lukas turned his head away, crossing his arms tight across his chest, his lips pursed. Mathias leaned closer, trying to get the stubborn pediatrician to look at him. Lukas refused to oblige. "It was the kid's best option. I couldn't risk infection that would later kill him." Not to mention the trauma of being in surgery for so long – no body, no matter how big or small, could handle that after being trapped in a minivan under a semi truck.
"You don't know that."
"I do, though."
"No!" Lukas snapped his head to give Mathais a withering glare, "it could have been saved." Mathias shook his head and pushed away from the wall, lifting his hands in surrender. Clearly, they were both too tired to have a conversation that went anywhere productive.
"I see these things every day, Lukas. It was a tough call, but the right one to give the kid a chance." Lukas' knees seemed to buckle and he sagged against the wall behind him. Mathias realized, right then, that Lukas had likely been awake just as long, if not longer than himself. He had not been in a long, gruesome surgery, but he had dealt with something far worse than Mathias had. He reached out, exhaustion creeping back in to his limbs, and pulled Lukas in to a loose hug. The smaller doctor was shaking. He timidly slid his hands up Mathias' chest and clutched at the front of his t-shirt.
Suddenly, their argument was no longer about a little boy losing his leg. It never had been.
"There was nothing you could do," he murmured in to Lukas' hair, arms tightening around him. He leaned in to him, for comfort and for his own stability. "It wasn't your fault." Lukas continued to shake against Mathias' chest, his breathing shallow and uneven. He smelled like coffee with faint undertones of rubbing alcohol and latex. "Nobody could have saved her, Lukas. She was too far gone when she got here. But, her brothers are here, they're alive, and you helped make that happen." His own breathing was ragged, now. All of Lukas' behavior fell in to place, making sense.
The little boy he had operated on only a few hours ago was not the only victim of the crash. He had a younger sister and brother that were also there. He had been briefed on the details of the accident before he even reached the ER: three children aged 4, 6, and 8 were among the more severely injured. They had been in the car as it rolled, slid, skidded to a halt under the rigging of a semitrailer. The little girl must have been sitting on her mother's lap when it had happened. By the time Mathias' pager went off and he ran to the ER, Lukas was already there. He remembered running with the team from the ambo straight for the OR, passing Lukas along the way. He had looked up and caught his eye, blood smeared on his pale face, eyes wide in a moment of panic. He had noticed the small girl on the stretcher, unresponsive, even with the hospital's best pediatrician and emergency team at her side, Lukas calling orders to nearby nurses, trying. He had noticed this as he rushed his own patient, a young boy with a severe crush injuries, to prep for surgery. He had forgotten until just now.
There had been more than one victim. More than one ward effected by the accident. Mathias may have saved a life, but the family had still been torn apart. He hadn't been the one to search out the parents, beaten and bloody from their own injuries, and tell them there was nothing more to be done for their little girl. He hadn't been the one, standing at the bedside of a little boy as he woke in the ICU, his first words asking after his older brother and younger sister. He never had to explain to a little boy that no, he couldn't see his sister right now, or tomorrow, or even the day after that. Lukas had.
"It's not your fault." Mathias said again, holding Lukas as tightly as his tired arms would allow.
Lukas took a shuddering breath, rubbing his face against Mathias' t-shirt; he felt the dampness of silent tears soaking in to the fabric. "I know."
The physical, mental, and emotional toll from the last 24 hours was seeping deeper in to Mathias' bones, and he leaned more in to Lukas, struggling to keep upright. They stood silent for a long while, wavering on the brink of balance and falling over. Mathias breathed deeply, taking in the scent that was the pediatrician in his arms and appreciating the warmth pressed against him. He willed everything inside him to feel numb. Hunger was losing the battle to blissful, dreamless slumber.
"You need to sleep." Lukas' hand was firm, steady on Mathias' shoulder. He had barely registered that the smaller doctor had pulled away, untangling himself from their embrace. He felt a cool hand on his wrist and let himself be lead out of the alcove and down the hall. He was laying in a cot in an on-call room before his brain could process what happening. Lukas was pulling a gray, scratchy blanket over his shoulders, his face not showing any signs of his previous tears. Had Mathias only imagined him crying? He didn't have the energy to brush his hands over his shirt to feel for tear-stains. Perhaps he would never know for sure. It didn't matter, though. He could feel himself slipping out of consciousnesses.
"Lukas," he forced his eyes to open a crack. The pediatrician froze, his hand on the door about to leave, he looked over his shoulder. "I'd kiss you right now if you were closer." He felt his face split in to a grin and he closed his eyes, asleep a moment later.
.
When Mathias finally woke, the first thing he was aware of was the sharp, empty feeling of his stomach. The second was the headache that seemed to be splitting down his head, like his brain was melting out of his ears. The third, as he struggled to sit up – what time was it? - was the bottle of water and a cranberry muffin tightly packed in plastic wrap on the small table beside the cot. There was a note scrawled on Winnie-the-Pooh paper that read:
'Page me when you're conscious. I'll take you to get some real food before you starve to death. - LB'
