pulse
The sweet part comes when his cardiothoracic surgeon, Dr. Altman, walks into his room at around ten, her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, lab coat pulled over her shoulders. If not for the smile on her face, wide and happy, he would be sure it was just another day. But the smile gives her away. And his heart clenches because he knows.
She's here to tell him he got lung. And a heart. And he's going to live. And Kate's going to die.
"No," he says before she can say a word. "No, I can't be… I'm healthy, Dr. Altman. Well, not healthy, but stable. And she's… She's dying. How could I… before her?" He stares at the curtain, at the silhouette of her bed and body the sun casts against it. "She's going to die."
"Rick," she sighs, "I understand that she's your friend, and I understand that this seems unfair. Trust me, I have seen many patients die unfairly. But this is your chance. Declining these lungs and this heart will do her no good. They would simply go to the next person designated by UNOS, which will most likely not be Miss Beckett."
"Detective," he corrects. "She's a detective. She spends every day keeping people like us safe and she just… She got shot and there were complications and now she's going to die, what, because you guys couldn't find her a heart fast enough?"
"Rick, you know we have nothing to do with the choice as to where donor organs go, we simply transplant them into patients," says Dr. Altman.
He sighs. "I know," he whispers. "I just… I wish somebody could do something for her. I wish I could save her."
Dr. Altman is surprisingly silent for a moment, and when she speaks, it does nothing to make him feel better, only confused him more. "Do you know Mi– Detective Beckett's blood type?"
He feels his brows furrow, his head turning from the curtain to the doctor. "Yeah," he answers. "It's O positive, like mine. Why?"
Dr. Altman looks thoughtful for a minute before turning to leave, saying something about needing to talk to Dr. Davidson. He doesn't try and stop her.
If she has something that can save Kate, he'll do anything to help her.
"Kate," he hears through the curtain. It's joined by the soft jostling of the sheets, Dr. Davidson trying to wake her. "Kate. Detective Beckett, I need you to wake up."
Her moan is soft, pained, her heart rate so slow he's scared it's going to stop again. But she manages a word, in a soft, croaked voice. "Yes?"
He can hear Dr. Davidson's smile as he speaks. "We found you a heart."
She doesn't move. He can see the silhouette of her bed against the curtain again, the shadow of her. But he still knows she perks up. It's in her voice. "You did?"
"We did," confirms Dr. Davidson. "You'll be going into surgery as soon as your prepped."
"I… UNOS found one in time?" she mumbles, still groggy, obviously a little confused.
"Not UNOS, Kate. Us. Actually, my colleague Dr. Altman did," explains Dr. Davidson. He hears the rustling of sheets, sees the doctor sit down on the edge of her bed. "It's a different kind of heart transplant, Kate. Let me explain."
Per his request, they end up side by side in the cramped pre-op rooms. She's lying in the bed next to his, in and out of consciousness like she has been since Dr. Davidson told her they had a heart.
So when she whispers his name, from her bed, where she's buried under a thick layer of blankets, he doesn't expect it, and it makes his heart skip a beat.
"Yeah, Kate?" he whispers back, turning to look at her.
He can tell she's weak and absolutely exhausted, tired of fighting death, but she still manages to turn towards him. Her eyes are glassy and half open, but she manages the slightest of smiles. He smiles back.
"I… Are Martha… and Alexis… waiting for you out there?" she asks. Her voice low, breathy, and then she sucks in as deep a breath as she can through her nose, taking in the oxygen.
"They are," he answers. "They're waiting for you, too, though. They want both of us to make it."
"They do?" she whispers.
He smiles at her. "Yeah, they do. They've grown to care about you, too, Kate. The last thing they want is for you to die," he tells her.
"Probably prefer me… over you," she manages, cracking the smallest of smiles.
"You're probably right," he agrees, "but you have people to live for, too."
"I do?" she asks. "Who?"
He tilts his head at her. "Your dad? The one in Scotland that has no idea you're having surgery today," he tells her, and her lips curl into a tiny 'O'. "You have to live so he doesn't get a call from Dr. Davidson apologizing for the loss of his daughter. Trust me, no father wants that. And then there's…"
"There's someone… else?" she mumbles. "My mom… is dead. I have no… siblings. No… boyfriend. Nobody."
"You have me," he says. "And I, Kate, will not accept coming out of the OR and recovering from my transplant without you right next to."
Her smile is small, weak but genuine. "You… Really?"
He was told not to move too much, but he can't help it. She sounds so in awe that he cares so much, looks so vulnerable and weak, and he feels fine. His oxygen levels are steady. So he pushes himself up into a seated position on his cot, leans over despite the slight ache in his chest. The beds are so close together that he doesn't have to get up to reach hers, to fumble with the sheets until he finds her fingers, can wrap his around them.
It's the first time they've touched since they met, and even though her fingers are freezing, he wouldn't change a thing about the moment.
"Yeah, me, Kate. We're partners. Heart transplant partners. What am I supposed to do if I lose you?"
"Fight," she answers immediately. "If I… die in there… or live… you have to… fight… for your life."
"I will," he promises, "but you'll be here to fight with me."
"Okay," she murmurs. "I'll… be here. We'll fight… together."
He smiles, and she manages to, too. And his lips long for her touch, for the soft touch of hers, but his heart is telling him to wait. To wait until she's survived and he's survived and they begin their new fight, together.
So he settles for squeezing her fingers. "Dr. Altman's going to be here soon," he tells her, "and I don't want her catching me breaking doctor's orders. But I do have to promise one more thing."
"What?" she whispers.
"I'll be right next to you when you wake up."
Her eyes crack open. She's fading again, fighting it for him. "What if… your sur…gery runs… long?" she mumbles.
He brings her hand to his mouth, dusts a kiss against her cold skin.
"I'll still be right next to you."
He wakes up to an ache in his chest and the tug of the anesthesia trying to drag him back to the world of dreams and a nurse standing at the foot of his bed, smiling at him.
"Good morning, Rick. Good to see you again," greets nurse Branton, happy, peppy. "Dr. Altman will be in soon to give you the details, but so far, you seem to be doing well. I'm just going to do your post-op exam. Is that okay?"
He sucks in a breath, winces slightly as his chest expands with it. He's mostly numb, other than the pain. And he's exhausted. But he manages to turn his head, eyes landing on the blue curtain pulled down the middle of the room. Her silhouette is cast across the fabric.
"She made it?" he mumbles. "Kate… she's alive?"
He doesn't have the energy of the willpower to look away from her, to tear his eyes of the silhouette of her bed, the curves of her body. But he can hear the smile in nurse Branton's voice when she answers.
"She did. Got out of the OR not too long ago. Dr. Davidson said she did amazing, passed with flying colors, so to speak. He seems to think she'll make a complete recovery," she answers. "I think Dr. Altman expects the same thing out of you, to be honest, although I'm not supposed to share things like that with a patients."
He exhales in a feeble attempt to laugh, eyes falling shut. "I won't sue," he mumbles. He manages to turn his head towards nurse Branton again. "She got my heart… you know," he manages.
"The whole ward knows, Rick. You guys have been the talk of the cardiopulmonary department since Dr. Altman and Dr. Davidson announced they were doing a domino transplant," she tells him.
"Do you think she'll be mad?" he asks.
She smiles, grabbing his wrist to chest his pulse. "I don't see why she would be. You gave her her life, Rick. That has to be the best love letter or present or whatever anyone's ever given someone," she answers. "Besides, I don't think Kate was quite ready to leave this world yet."
He shakes his head slightly, just enough to get his point across. "I think she was," he murmurs. "Think she thought she had… no chance and accepted that she was going to… die." He takes as deep a breath he can, rolls his head against the pillow to look at her again. "But this world wasn't ready to lose her."
The next time he wakes up, the anesthesia has less of an effect on him, less of a mind numbing effect. He still feels pretty numb everywhere else, though, besides the ache at his incision site and the tips of his fingers. He doesn't feel much like he can move, but he's more aware of his surroundings. Of the orange of the setting sun that casts across the room. Of the cool air from the air conditioner that circles in the room.
The next thing he's aware of is the fact that the curtain between them is open, the blue not in his peripheral but rather the white of the hospital blankets, that pale beige of her skin, the thin green line that marks her every, steady heart beat. It's higher than it was before. Stronger, probably. And her skin already has just a touch more color to it.
He's pretty sure she's still asleep, though he can't see her face to make sure. Her breathing is a little shallow, though and slightly unsteady. He's fairly certain that means she might wake up soon.
He hopes that means she might wake up soon.
So he waits, watching her sleep. He stares at her face, at her cheeks that are pinker than he's seen them in weeks. Watches the sharp peaks and valleys of the line on her heart monitor, each one almost identical to the last, each one coming at an even interval. Each one telling him she's alive. He stares at her chest, at the way it comes up and goes down with breaths deeper than the ones she's taken on her own in the past few days.
She looks healthy again. Or, well, like she she has a chance again.
It feels like forever, and he feels the drugs tugging at his consciousness again when she draws him to complete awareness. Her voice soft, breathy, exhausted.
"Rick?"
"Kate!" he calls back. "Kate, I'm right here. Just like I told you I would be."
"Rick?" she whispers again. "Rick? You're… We're alive." Awe. She sounds like she's in absolute awe of the fact that they're lying side by side in their room again. Alive. Surviving.
"Yeah," he whispers, back. "Yeah, and we're going to be okay."
She hums softly, probably already being pulled back under by the medication, by the anesthesia that has get to wear off. But she manages a single word, a short plea. "Okay."
He smiles. "Yeah, Kate, we're going to be okay," he tells her again. "So you get some more sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up again. I promise."
"Okay," she mumbles.
But it's her last words that shock him, that make his heart flutter. It's them that leave him unable to sleep for a long time after she fades back into the darkness. Quiet, but so very, very strong.
"Love you."
He wakes up to the nurse's fingers tight around his wrist and a stethoscope pressed against the top part of his chest. His eyes flutter and land on the night nurse's face. She smiles at him.
"Your next check wasn't supposed to be another half hour, but she was asking for you," whispers the nurse. "I've heard a lot about you two, figured you wouldn't mind being woken up a little early."
He smiles up at her. "I don't," he whispers back. He turns towards Kate's side of the room. "Can you open the curtain?" he asks. She does, smiling at him.
"There you go, Kate. Rick," she says. "I'll be in to check on you both again later."
His eyes instantly land on hers. The green orbs that shine with a life he's missed since her health plummeted. She's smiling, just a bit, tired, but smiling.
"We're alive," she whispers. "I was scared I wouldn't make it. That I would… die even though you said you needed me to live. I was scared I would let you down."
"You could never let me down."
Her smile widens just a bit, just for a second. "I didn't think I was going to make it, and then Dr. Davidson said he found a heart, that it was from someone else from this hospital," she says. "At first, I thought three people were lucky enough to get a transplant on the same day, but then… I think it was the anesthesia, but I had a dream."
Her eyes meet his, and he knows she waiting for the words, for the confirmation, so he gives it to her.
"It's mine," he whispers. For her and her alone even though, according to nurse Branton, they're already the talk of the hospital. "It was Dr. Altman's idea. I… she came to tell me that she found me a heart, but I couldn't be happy."
"You should have been," she mumbles.
"I couldn't," he repeats. "I was going to live and you were going to die."
"That's sweet."
He smiles. "I told Dr. Altman that. I told her I wanted you to live. I wanted to see us both live. I told Dr. Altman that I wished there was something I could do to help you, to save you. And next thing you know, she has a solution."
"You let them take your heart and give it to me?" she whispers.
"We were a match, and my heart was still pretty healthy. A lot better than yours," he explains. "You were going to die without it, and the heart would have gone to medical waste otherwise. You needed it. And I… I needed you. I need you. I can't lose you. So, yeah, Kate, I let you have my heart."
"Literally," she whispers, sounding almost amused.
The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, heavy and serious and true.
"And figuratively."
But when he meets her eyes, he can tell she doesn't mind.
In fact, he's pretty sure he sees something sparkle in them.
This chapter is much shorter, but I wanted to focus on the actual transplants (and immediately before and after). I hope it is satisfactory. After the overwhelming response to the first chapter, I must admit I was pretty nervous to post this.