Alex and Jackson watched the monitor measuring her vital signs. The fluids had slightly improved her blood pressure to 100/48 while the oxygen bumped her saturation up to a 93 percent. Her heart rate kept waving between the 40s and 50s and her respirations were still at 10 a minute, yet the effort she had needed to breath had dramatically decreased, making her appear more comfortable. They were at a standstill until they knew exactly what they were dealing with.
"Avery?" Alex asked sympathetically.
Jackson inhaled sharply and glanced at Alex.
"We'll fix this."
"I should have called the cops," Jackson shook his head. "But I had to get her here. I told the bartender. He said they'd handle it." Jackson had been able to point him out from where they were standing. "He said security would interrogate."
"You were thinking about getting her out of there." Alex reaffirmed.
"But I just let him walk away. He's going to do this to other women. If they don't find anything… If there's no proof…" Jackson felt nauseous as he thought about the next woman too drunk to notice dangerous drugs dissolving in her drink; already too inhibited to safely receive any further CNS depressants.
"Jackson," Alex shook him from his thoughts. "If the cops had come you still might have not been able to catch him."
"He admitted it to me," Jackson clenched his fists, a dark tone taking over his voice. "I would have made him admit it to them too."
"And ended up in jail too?"
Jackson sighed. Alex was right. "She called me and she was scared. I think she was trying to get away from him. He found her and she panicked and begged him to leave her alone. I heard a lot of shuffling. I think he got her phone, and he hung up on me. I got there, and then I just walked away."
Alex looked back at April and she suddenly became Jo. Alex thought of Jo alone and afraid, too intoxicated to fight back; not even sure what was going on. Calling him; the person she trusted to help her. Alex's breath hitched in his chest. "You're right. I would have killed him."
By the time a nurse handed Jackson the results of April's toxicology screen. He had already run through a hundred horrible scenarios. The two scanned it quickly; one drug under the Benzodiazepine column was highlighted in bright yellow. Among her high blood alcohol content, April's blood tested almost twice the expected dosage seen in other patients affected by Flunitrazepam. Rohypnol. The powerful sedative was colorless, tasteless, and dissolved quickly in alcohol. Jackson felt numb. Not only had April's drink been tampered with, but he'd done it in more than one.
Jackson tried to shake away the image of what could have happened if April hadn't called. The man practically dragging her to his car and April falling asleep while he took advantage of her, not realizing he had given her too much. Not realizing her body was already trying to compensate for too much alcohol. She would have never woken up. How long before Jackson would have even known?
"How long do you think she's been affected for?" Alex asked, pulling Jackson from the image. He took out a piece of Rx paper ready to scribble an order.
Jackson glanced at the time. It was 3:30am. When April had called, she'd already been heavily sedated. "A little over 2 hours?" Jackson estimated. It would take someone April's size approximately 10 to 20 minutes to feel the effects of Rohypnol.
Alex hurried to the nearest nurse as he started to write. "April Kepner's in bed 11. I need to you get Flumazenil stat," he told her as his pager began to go off. He glanced at it quickly. Arizona was paging him upstairs to peds. "Start with point 2 milligrams. 30 seconds later, hit her again with point 3 milligrams. A minute after that, give her half a milligram. Give each dose diluted in 12 milliliters of a normal saline flush. Keep giving her half a milligram every minute until you see some improvement. Don't exceed 3 milligrams total. If you haven't seen improvement after 3 milligrams, you stop and call me. Got it?" He handed her the piece of paper he'd scribbled the order on, singing his name at the bottom.
She read it over. "Got it," she reassured. She'd given the antidote for a benzo overdose before.
"I'm gonna get her admitted and have them put the order in right now. Just give it. Do not wait to see it in the computer."
"Okay," she confirmed.
"Hang tight, Avery!" He called over, "I'll be back," he assured, checking his pager again before disappearing towards the elevator.
Alex met Robins when he stepped off the elevator.
"Hey, I need you to go over this case with me on a 9 year old boy. He's in room 323." Arizona handed him a chart.
"Sure," Alex said, less that enthusiastically, his face lacking his usual demeanor.
"Hey, what's up?" Arizona asked, her face matching his expression.
"I'm worried About April," Alex slumped; it sounded weird for him to be using her first name, something he rarely did.
"Kepner?" Arizona asked confused, her brow furrowing, knowing April was not Alex's favorite human.
"She's downstairs in the pit."
"Okay?" Arizona asked, clearly not realizing he meant April was a patient and not working.
"Some creep at a bar drugged her drink."
"Who's drink?"
"Kepner." Alex said shortly, getting frustrated.
"Someone drugged April's drink?" Arizona asked, feeling her own stomach start to sink. "Is she okay?"
"I don't know," Alex said, "She's unconscious."
Arizona looked at him, her face falling into matched concern. She opened her mouth, but closed it again, not knowing what to say.
"Come on. Let's go see this kid," Alex gestured with his head.
