Hey everyone! I wrote this on the plane on my way back to my new house in Florida! Hope you all like it; it's light on the Gav drama, but heavy on other drama…and thank you ALL for your amazing responses to the last chapter – you were all QUITE surprised by who the shooter was!
Chapter 8: The Malpractice
When Enjolras returned home from Éponine's house, he was met with an unusual sight. Combeferre was sitting in their only easy chair, a blank look on his face, his hands clutching a glass. Enjolras's eyebrows furrowed; what was wrong with him?
"You alright?" He asked cautiously. After Éponine's mental collapse, their subsequent rushed lovemaking, and the overarching guilt from Gavroche's shooting, Enjolras's emotional range was spent.
"I got fired." Combeferre said, his voice a monotone. Enjolras's eyes widened in surprise; he had seen Combeferre a few hours before, still at the hospital, ready for another shift.
"What happened?"
"I killed someone."
"You're sure you don't need me to stay?" Joly asked Combeferre quietly. Everyone was packing up, and getting ready to leave the hospital.
Combeferre shook his head. "Nah." He said, shrugging. "I'll be fine. It's like med school all over again, studying for exams on no sleep."
"Don't kill anyone." Joly joked, and Combeferre rolled his eyes at the idea.
"I'm fine." Combeferre confirmed, clapping a hand on Joly's shoulder.
"Let me know if you hear anything about our boss." Joly said, a hint of disgust in his voice. Combeferre wrinkled his nose.
"Will do. I'll see you…tomorrow?" Combeferre guessed. He had been at the hospital for so long that he wasn't even sure what day it was.
"I'll see you tomorrow." Joly confirmed, nodding once, before turning to follow Jehan and Bahorel out the door.
Combeferre turned to head back into the emergency room. He vaguely heard Marius asking Courfeyrac if he needed a ride, but with the snap of the door, his friend's voices were drowned out.
"Doctor Combeferre?" A voice rang out. Combeferre took a deep breath; it was going to be a very long shift.
"Yes, Maria, what do you have?"
"Standard. Appendix removal…five year old, male. It was supposed to be Doctor Shepard, but…" She trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.
"Yes, well, he's done a bunk, so I'll take it." Combeferre held out his hand for the folder of information, which Maria passed over graciously.
"I'll be assisting, so I'll see you in there. Those are the parents, over there…" She lowered her voice, her head jerking toward a couple in the corner of the room. "They're a little concerned because they've been dealing with Doctor Shepard for the past week."
"I'll go talk to them," Combeferre said, smiling lightly at the young nurse, who turned pink in response. He flipped open the folder quickly to scan the information. The boy had been experiencing some stomach pain, and a scan the previous week had revealed an enlarged appendix. Dr. Shepard's plan had been to just remove the appendix, in case of appendicitis.
Armed with this information, Combeferre closed the folder and strode over to the young couple. He extended a hand to the father, who stood at his approach. "Mr. Daniels, Mrs. Daniels, I'm Doctor Combeferre. My boss, Doctor Shepard, isn't able to be here today, but I'll be taking over for him."
"You're awfully young." Mrs. Daniel's remarked, her eyes squinting as she regarded Combeferre. He laughed; he was used to hearing this remark.
"Younger than Doctor Shepard, certainly, but I established residency at this hospital last year. Your son is in good hands."
"Scrub for OR 3." Maria's voice called across the room, and Combeferre straightened.
"That's me." He said, reaching forward to shake hands with the parents again. "It won't be a long process. The anesthesiologist has already been in there, and the surgery won't take long. He'll be awake in a couple hours."
With another assuring smile, Combeferre turned around and walked to the operating room. He scrubbed his hands and arms, before covering the clean skin with elbow-length gloves and turning to the operating table.
Maria was already there, along with two other nurses that would be assisting in the surgery. Combeferre picked up a scalpel, and approached Timothy, the young patient, who was already under anesthesia on the table. With one more glance at the MRI scan, Combeferre made his first incision.
Everything was going smoothly, until Combeferre's mind began to wander.
Where in the hell is Gavroche? Was his first thought, and from that point, his focus was gone. He considered all the options – Dr. Shepard was lying, Dr. Shepard was someone's accomplice, Gavroche was somewhere in the hospital… had Dr. Shepard maybe kidnapped Gavroche? Nothing was out of the question.
It was the beeping that startled Combeferre out of his thoughts. He had been on autopilot; he had done so many appendectomies his hands already knew what to do.
"Doctor Combeferre!" Maria said sharply, her eyes straying from the machine back to Timothy Daniels. Combeferre looked up, his eyes widening at the drastically falling blood pressure levels. His hands were shaking when his gaze dropped down to the open incision. There was so much blood he couldn't even see an appendix.
As hard as he tried, Combeferre could not snap himself out of his panic. His words died in his throat, his fingers wouldn't move, and his eyes would not stray from the bleeding wound. He looked to Maria in a panic and she pushed him away, her own hands replacing his as she tried to close the wound.
Somewhere, Combeferre's knife had slipped. The crash cart was rolled in, machines kept beeping, and Combeferre watched from the wings, his mind still on Gavroche. Was this what had happened with Doctor Shepard? Had he lost Gavroche, and, unable to handle the guilt, had he fled? Combeferre couldn't think of anything he'd rather do at that moment than leave the room; leave, and never come back.
There was a flat line, a long beep that echoed through the operating room and through Combeferre's conscious. He knew he would never forget that sound. The sound of a life gone, during a routine procedure, and it was all his fault.
Over the next hour, words were thrown around, and Combeferre saw his life and career collapse. The screams of the parents would never leave him, the words 'malpractice' and 'lawsuit' spelling out his end as a doctor, and the head surgeon on duty telling him in a low, growling voice to "get out, and take your stuff with you".
Combeferre tripped home, thoughts of Gavroche, flat lines and devastated parents filling his brain. He filled a glass with whiskey, and collapsed on the couch, staring blankly at the wall until Enjolras returned home hours later.
Enjolras's mouth was hanging open. Combeferre was an excellent doctor, this much he knew. He had come out near the top of his class, ahead of Joly, and had been placed immediately out of medical school. How he had done this… Enjolras had no idea.
"You fuck up at all today?" Combeferre asked bitterly, his teeth grinding together, his shaking hands clutching his cup of whiskey tightly. Enjolras laughed sarcastically, thinking of how he had abandoned Gavroche, how he had just had sex with Éponine, and how he knew who had shot Gavroche, and said nothing.
"You could say that." Enjolras said quietly, but Combeferre wasn't listening; instead, he was taking a long draw from his drink. The whiskey burned his throat on its way down, but he welcomed the pain; it was the only feeling he had.
"You know how much a malpractice case is going to cost me. Not to mention my career."
"They'll sue the hospital." Enjolras said automatically; he had just represented a family in a malpractice case, and they had decided to sue the hospital instead of the doctor; the doctor had still been fired, but the hospital had to pay the settlement, which had been well into the millions.
"I still won't have a job."
"You'll be okay. We're not going to let you be homeless."
"I know."
"Combeferre…what happened in the operating room?" Enjolras asked hesitantly; he knew if he didn't ask now, when the memory was fresh (and Combeferre was slightly drunk), he may never find out.
"Gav. He was on my mind. I couldn't…I couldn't focus on anything else. And then when it started to go wrong, I just froze. Panic."
Enjolras gulped, his own guilt increasing exponentially. All these things were connecting to Gavroche being shot, and Enjolras felt responsible for them all. If he told Combeferre what he knew, though… it would ruin everything. He had promised Grantaire he would stay quiet…
"The fact of the matter is, a five year old is dead, it is my fault. I have no job, no future as a doctor, and am going to be sued for malpractice. I'd like to drown myself in this whiskey and wake up in about five days with amnesia and a hangover. I'm sorry, Enjolras…I just…need to be alone."
Enjolras nodded, touching a hand to Combeferre's shoulder. "It's okay," he said quietly. "I understand. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"
Combeferre nodded, and Enjolras left the room. When Combeferre heard the door click shut, he finally let himself cry.
"I…no…" Enjolras gaped at his boss, his hands shaking as they clutched paperwork. It was the day after Gavroche's disappearance, and things had not gotten better.
"What do you mean, no?" Enjolras's boss asked, squinting at his youngest lawyer. Enjolras was a rising star in the firm, sure, but he was still the newest in the business, and was supposed to do what he was told.
"I can't…work on this case." Enjolras said desperately. He looked down again at the names on the paper, his eyes not believing what he was seeing. Mr. and Mrs. Daniels, bringing suit against Doctor Combeferre, in the event of their son's unnecessary death. Malpractice.
And Enjolras had to represent them.
Of all the law offices in Paris, of all the potential lawyers, they had to come to his. And the case had to be given to him. He had to prosecute against one of his best friends.
Enjolras considered throwing up on the spot, but decided that would be unprofessional. Best to save that for when he got home and had to tell Combeferre.
"And, why can't you work on this case?"
"Doctor Combeferre is my best friend."
"I don't give a damn." Enjolras's boss said gruffly, his eyes narrowing. "You just won a malpractice case for other clients, and you're going to do it again."
Enjolras briefly thought about quitting, but he knew he would never get hired at another law firm without a recommendation from his boss, who would certainly not give him one if he quit on the spot.
"I…okay." Enjolras said. He knew there was nothing he could do to avoid participating in the case.
"Much better. The parents are in the room next door. Try to be sensitive, they just lost a child. I know emotions aren't your strong point."
As Enjolras left the room he rolled his eyes; if emotions weren't his strong point, between Éponine, Combeferre, Gavroche, Grantaire…they would be soon.
As always, thank you for your continued support! Comments, suggestions, likes, follows…they all mean the absolute world to me, so thank you! xoxo Brittany