A/N: As promised, an update without too much delay… thanks everyone! *hands out more tissues and a cuppa to sooth frayed nerves*
CHAPTER 28
Baxter was on his fourth trip to the coffee machine. The amount of lukewarm tea that his system had absorbed so far made him antsy. He could have sworn it was the same appliance from the time Emma had been in the hospital. It looked suspiciously ancient. He stared at the brown water that was trickling into a Styrofoam cup that didn't deserve the name 'tea' even if it had been the last on earth. Sighing, he grabbed it and retreated to his seat in the corner.
He had read all the news articles on his phone he felt remotely interested in. There was no development in the car search or anything else for the matter. He checked his watch again. Thirteen minutes had passed since he had peeked last. Hardy had been barely gone for two hours, it was going to be torture. He could sneak out and Hardy would never know, but that would have felt like a betrayal of his friend in need.
He was still annoyed at him for not telling his wife but earlier that day it became clear to him that Hardy should have never been left alone to have that conversation. Someone should have sat them down and done it for him. Not because Hardy was too stubborn, but because he was too soft. Asking him to tell his family something upsetting was an impossible task for him.
The cup was empty again and Baxter got up with a groan. It was going to be a long morning. He approached the coffee machine and realized he was out of change.
"For God's sake," he cursed. When he turned around to storm out and find a place to break down some of his larger bills, he jumped. Dr. Abbott had sneaked up on him and was standing right behind him.
Baxter had been around doctors delivering bad news for too long. One look at her face was enough to know that she wasn't there to share anything good.
"What happened? Why are you here? You can't possibly be done already?" he bombarded her with questions.
"Mr. Baxter, can we sit?"
Needing to sit down was never a good sign. He nodded, hiding his trembling hands in his pockets. They took some seats in the corner of the empty room. Anxiety was making Baxter sweat and he was ready to burst, when she finally spoke.
"Alec is all right…" – a great load was taken off his chest – "… but there have been complications." The load was back.
"Care to explain?" Baxter growled. He didn't want to be unfriendly but his nerves were strung like a violin.
She sighed and leaned forward. "Mr. Baxter, I'm going to be very frank with you and probably violate all laws of patient confidentiality, but you're the only person around him that he has told about his heart condition. I feel very strongly that someone else needs to be in the loop besides him. He's not very good at taking care of himself, if you know what I mean."
Baxter let out a sarcastic laugh. "Tell me about it."
Emily gave him a curious look and a small smile flicked over her face.
"What do you know about his condition?" she asked.
"To be honest with you, not much. I caught him having some sort of attack and noted that he was taking the same medication my wife takes for her high blood pressure. I called him out on it and he admitted to having an irregular heartbeat. My brother's a cardiologist and I talked to him to get a better idea. When I guessed he needed a pacemaker, Alec opened up a bit. He came to me yesterday, asking for the day off and implied that the procedure was going to be risky," Baxter summarized the few facts he was aware of.
Dr. Abbott had looked up when he mentioned that he had a cardiologist in the family. "Oh, of course… Baxter. You're Martin's little brother."
Bloody doctors, they all knew each other. There was an amused expression on her face and Baxter rolled his eyes. Without a doubt, Martin would have shared stories about his 'baby' brother and he idly wondered what on earth Martin was telling people about him.
"Yup, that would be me. Could we please get back to what happened with Hardy before I'm going to have a heart attack?" Baxter asked disgruntled.
"Sorry. Of course. Alec has a condition called Long QT syndrome. It's a severe form of arrhythmia and hereditary; he had it all his life. I don't quite understand why he was relatively free of symptoms for most of his life and only now got so ill from it. Regardless, about a month ago he had a cardiac arrest when his daughter was in the hospital. Maybe the extreme stress triggered the attack. He –"
"Wait a minute," Baxter interrupted her, shocked by what he had just learned. "You said he had a cardiac arrest?" She nodded. "The fucking moron lied to me," Baxter exclaimed angrily. He had called Hardy when Daisy was in the hospital and although the story of having a panic attack sounded a bit odd, he had given him the benefit of the doubt. He made a mental note to yell the fucking shit out of Hardy once he had recovered.
"Why am I not surprised?" Dr. Abbott sighed. They exchanged a glance and Baxter was suddenly incredibly grateful that Hardy had been so fortunate to meet this young doctor who was obviously very invested in her patient.
"He was lucky he was in a hospital when it happened and we could shock him out of the arrhythmia immediately. Otherwise he might not have survived," she began her story and Baxter's eyes widened. He had no idea how serious this disease was. The way Hardy'd been acting one wondered if he didn't either. Bloody moron.
"We had told him back then that he most likely needed the pacemaker but we wanted to do some further testing. That was the original plan," she continued, squirming in her chair. "Unfortunately, things didn't quite work out that way. His condition rapidly deteriorated over the past weeks to a point where I started seriously worrying for his life." She stopped talking and fixed her brown eyes on Baxter whose heart was falling. He had seen Hardy's decline, especially in the last week or so and he felt guilty that he hadn't intervened earlier.
"I should have put him on medical leave," he muttered under his breath.
"I'm not sure if that would have helped. Besides refusing any intervention right from the start, he was so stubborn about needing to finish the case he's currently working on. He didn't agree to get the cath done until he almost crashed the car with Daisy in it. Even then I still had to threaten him to do it today and not at a later time." She seemed disheartened. Baxter wasn't unfamiliar with her dilemma. Hardy had been extremely distressed over the fact that he might not be able to end what he had started.
"You know that he pulled one of the victims out of the river, right?" Baxter asked quietly.
"I do. And he almost died that day. Swimming in cold water is a textbook trigger for his arrhythmia. I had told him so but it didn't prevent him from going right for it." Her frustration was evident. She found Baxter's eyes again. "He's been having nightmares, every night. He says he hasn't been sleeping ever since. He lost almost twenty pounds since I first met him. This bloody case is killing him," she blurted out.
Baxter was surprised by how emotional she was. Her eyes were moist and she took in some deep breaths to compose herself. A smile curled up the corners of his mouth. He remembered Hardy mentioning that he had a good doctor. He sure did, and more so. She cared about him as a person and not only as a patient and maybe that was one of the reasons Hardy was still alive today.
Baxter put a hand on her arm. "I know it is. I've seen it too," he admitted crestfallen.
She took in another deep breath and sighed deeply. "I should have hospitalized him when he passed out in my office the other day."
"When was that?" Baxter frowned, remembering Hardy's incident in the woods. It made him wonder how many more times in these past weeks Hardy had skirted by catastrophe without telling anyone.
"Monday morning," she admitted. "That's when I threatened him that he needed to have this procedure done or I would send him to another cardiologist."
Baxter's thoughts travelled back to Hardy's slumped figure on that park bench after he had had the falling out with Tess. He had looked so defeated. Knowing now what had happened earlier that day, it made even more sense.
"So, what went wrong?" Baxter finally asked after both of them had remained silent, undoubtedly contemplating how they should have been more firm with Hardy.
"We couldn't do it," she stated, frustration flushing her cheeks.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Baxter was confused.
"We couldn't place the pacemaker because his heart nearly arrested. We started with the cath, but at first the sedation wasn't deep enough. The anesthesiologist wanted to be cautious. When he finally got it right, Alec had a serious attack most likely triggered by the anesthetics. We were able to control the arrhythmia with medication at that time." She ran her hands through her hair, letting out a tired sigh. Baxter listened in horror, fearing what would come next.
"We then decided to forgo all the additional testing and only use the catheters to keep his heart in check during the pacemaker insertion. Everything else seemed too risky. When we tried to get the wires of the pacemaker in place, his heart couldn't take it. Even with the slightest manipulation, he had spells of life-threatening arrhythmia. After the third failed attempt, we called it quits. If we hadn't had direct access to his heart with the catheters he might not have survived," she finished her explanation, staring out the window.
Baxter couldn't quite follow her but the salient points stuck with him. Hardy didn't get the pacemaker and still had almost died. Baxter stood abruptly and took a few long strides back and forth through the family room. It was hard to deal with all the emotions that were bubbling up. Old feelings from the time of Emma's illness were mixing with new ones and they rendered him shaken and rattled. But just like he had back then, he resorted to pragmatism and looking for the next step.
"Where do we go from there then?" he asked resolutely, not accepting defeat.
"To tell you the truth, I think we underestimated how badly his heart was affected by his disease. I could imagine after some recovery we could manage his condition better and get the pacemaker surgery done. We also have a better idea now how he reacts to certain drugs." She seemed optimistic enough for Baxter to latch onto it.
"Fine. Where is he?" He didn't want to leave him alone.
"In the recovery unit. He might be awake enough by now to go talk to him." She shot him a sheepish glance. "I didn't want to do that by myself, thought I could enlist some moral support." She got up as well.
Baxter smiled at her and patted her shoulder. "You can count on me. Let's hope we can talk some sense into the obstinate Scot."
"Nothing wrong with being Scottish," she mumbled, cheeks flushing. "My Dad was Scottish."
Baxter's eyes flicked at her. She looked away and Baxter wondered if he had uncovered the secret why Dr. Abbott was so fond of his friend.
"He's not that old, you know," he teased.
"That's exactly what he said too. With more indignation though," she said, now smiling at him.
Baxter grinned. He was pleased with his observational skills. Maybe he still had it in him to be a proper detective and not only a trouble shooting pencil pusher.
They left the family room united in their quest of making Alec Hardy see the wrong of his ways.
Hardy was counting the ceiling tiles again. They were still fuzzy and the lingering effect of the anesthesia made it hard to focus. It irritated him that he ended up with a different number every time he finished. Grunting, he gave up. There was a dull throbbing pain in his right groin, which wasn't made better by the heavy sandbag that was lying on the cath site. They had told him it was there to stop the bleeding but secretly he suspected its true purpose was to prevent patients from escaping too quickly. He had thrown up twice already, not reacting well to the pain medication they were giving him. Adding that to his pounding head ache, the stabbing sensation in his chest and the discomfort from an IV site gone bad, his day was shaping up to be spectacular.
He itched to get his fingers on his phone to check if they'd found the car. Baxter had his belongings though. Where was he anyway? Hardy didn't want to admit it, but it would have been nice to see a familiar face when he woke up and not the stern features of Nurse Carol or Cathy or whatever her name was. She reminded him of his school matron and a very primordial fear had crept up on him before he realized why he'd been so intimidated by a nurse he'd never met in his life. It did the trick, he followed instructions for once and didn't try to run. And then there was also the bloody sandbag to contest with.
His eyes fell shut again and he was about to drift off, when he got rudely woken up by Baxter's booming voice.
"Enough sleeping. I have a bone or two to pick with you," Baxter growled at him.
Hardy rolled his eyes and shot a glance at Emily who was standing close to Baxter. He couldn't help but think the two of them were conspiring.
"But first Dr. Abbott needs to talk to you," Baxter stated and stepped aside.
Emily's face was flushed and Hardy knew immediately that the news couldn't be good. His eyes caught a glimpse at the clock on the opposite wall. He hadn't paid much attention to the time but now it dawned on him that it had only been a bit over two hours since they had started. That didn't make any sense. His hand came up to the dressing under his collarbone. There definitely wasn't any bump there.
Her eyes were resting on his hand feeling his chest. "Emily?" he prompted her, unable to hide his anguish.
"We couldn't insert the pacemaker, Alec. I'm sorry."
Hardy closed his eyes and kept them shut when he asked, voice quivering, "Why?"
"Your heart wasn't cooperating. We tried three times but every time we had to stop because of the arrhythmia," she explained, defeat resonating in her words.
He felt Baxter's gentle touch on his leg, giving him support.
"So you're telling me that this was all for nothing?" He tried not to be angry but it was hard.
"Alec, you're too ill right now. You have to take a break and recover first, then we can try again," she reasoned. His eyes snapped open.
"A break? You're joking, right? I'm already missing an important part of the investigation and for what? So that you guys couldn't do what you said you would," he barked at her.
"Alec, it's not her fault. You've not been taking care of this and now –" Baxter inserted himself into the conversation.
Emily and Hardy both glared at him. And then they yelled at him at the same time.
"Mr. Baxter, I can fend for myself," Emily growled.
"Ed, with all respect, I don't need to be scolded," Hardy snapped.
Baxter looked back and forth between them. Then shrugging, he mumbled something to himself about Scottish people, very much sounding like an insult. He crossed his arms and observed the spectacle.
"You're such a nag about the taking it easy part," Hardy grumbled. Then he waved his hand at Baxter. "What did you tell him anyway?"
"I told him that I think the bloody case is killing you," Emily said sharply.
"Bloody hell, is there no privacy here?" Hardy shouted. His temper was rising. Emily raised an eyebrow and seemed not impressed with Hardy's outburst.
She crossed her arms over her chest and calmly stated, "If you stay on the force, you'll run a real risk of dying, Alec. And before you complain, yes, I did break patient confidentiality because you're –"
"Please, stop it, Emily." Hardy had enough. As much as Baxter was his friend, he was also his boss. And he still didn't know the extent of Hardy's illness. He had no interest in discussing the more morbid details in front of him.
"Ed, would you mind leaving us alone for a moment. I'd like to discuss a few things in private." Hardy hoped he wouldn't offend Baxter.
Baxter gave him a quizzical look but retreated without protest. Emily stayed behind and he finally had an opportunity to talk without any reservations.
"Emily you can't tell him these things. He will never let me work again and where does that leave me?" Hardy sighed, scrubbing his face down.
Emily looked at him for a long time, not moving a muscle. Then she perched on the edge of his bed, brown eyes burning with sadness.
"Alec, I wasn't joking when I said you'll die if you keep working. One of the main reasons why we were unsuccessful today was that your heart was too weak to withstand any stress whatsoever," she said, her voice softer than he'd ever heard it. "Another thing became very clear also. If you don't get that pacemaker and ICD, it's just a question of time until you'll have an attack that will be fatal. And I don't think you have much time left, not with the shape you're in now."
Hardy pressed his lips together and didn't utter a word. What was there to say? She was patiently waiting for him to make any comment or share his thoughts. When he stayed mute she continued.
"I got the genetic tests back. It confirmed what we already knew. You've got one of the Long QT variants that is very serious. Frankly, it's a miracle you're still alive at your age without any intervention."
Hardy groaned and tried to shift his weight on the bed. The bloody sandbag prevented him from doing so and he half-heartedly kicked his leg. It was a mistake that he immediately paid for with a stabbing pain, radiating down his thigh and calf. He gasped and his heart stuttered, making all the alarms on his monitor go off. Emily stretched out her arm to the reset button, tapped it and adjusted something on a drip that was running into his IV. Then she plopped down onto the bed again.
"See, this is what I'm talking about. Anything can set you off right now. Your heart is very vulnerable." She was dead serious. A lump was forming in his throat and he swallowed hard.
"When can you try again?" he asked with a breaking voice. He wasn't quite ready to give up yet.
Her eyes widened and she looked away.
"Emily?" There was more anxiety in this one word than either one of them could bear.
"We'd have to wait at least a week or two, maybe three. Your heart needs to heal and get some of its strength back," she explained but seemed less than sure of herself. It was unsettling as Hardy had come to know her as a confident physician.
"Two to three weeks?" he echoed flatly.
"In the hospital," she added.
"What?" Hardy shouted, completely caught off guard.
"You need to be taken out of that environment, Alec. No stress, no exertion. Also, you're at such a high risk of having another serious episode that you should be monitored and close to somewhere where you could get immediate help," she elaborated hesitantly.
It all sounded very reasonable but nevertheless absolutely horrifying. "I can't do that Emily. It's going to drive me insane," he blurted out, panic shifting his pitch up. "Can't I stay home, with my family?" he pleaded.
"I don't know Alec. It would be a big task for your wife and daughter. And it wouldn't address the issue of being close to help." She sounded doubtful. "Besides, I don't trust you to keep strict bed rest and not go snooping around your office."
It sunk in more and more that she was very serious about keeping him in the hospital. What also sunk in was what that implied about his state of health. Another question came to his mind.
"Emily, what are my real chances of surviving this? The wait and then the surgery?" he asked, voice rough.
Her hesitation was more than telling. "I'm not sure to be honest with you. We believe that with adequate rest your heart should recover enough for you to have a decent chance to make it through the surgery."
"Decent chance? How do you define that?" he sought clarification. In a way he didn't want to know, but he had to.
She moved on the bed and started clicking her pen. Hardy almost felt bad for how uncomfortable she looked. "Maybe twenty to thirty percent chance of survival," she said not much louder than a whisper.
He stared at her with wide eyes until they were burning. Pressing the heels of his hands on them didn't make it better. He wished he could rub away the reality that he didn't want to face. After listening to the irregular beeping of his treacherous heartbeat for a few moments, he sucked in a breath, then let it out, muttering, "Sounds like I'm the long shot with the bookies."
Emily smiled sadly at him. "I'd still bet on you."
The corner of his mouth pulled up and he expelled some air through his nose. "Thanks. I hope you'll win." He paused, mulling something over. He chewed on his lower lip and ran his fingers through his hair. "What if I don't do it? What are my chances then?"
"Alec!" she exclaimed. "You'll die if you don't." She glared at him incredulously.
"Oi, did you have to be so blunt," he whined, training his eyes back at the ceiling tiles. His frazzled mind resorted to counting again, yet resulting in another number. He hit the mattress and Emily jumped.
"I'm sorry," she breathed. She looked so broken up that Hardy's anger evaporated as quickly as it had come on.
"It's going to be all right. I'm too stubborn to just go away." His attempt at consoling her was feeble but she still smiled.
"I'll get you set up with a spot in our telemetry unit," she said, rising from his bed.
"I'm not staying, Emily," he told her quietly.
"What? Alec, please be –"
"No," he interjected firmly. "I want to go home and finally talk to my wife and daughter. Let them be part of the plan. I can't make that decision by myself. I need them by my side."
He really did. After he had said goodbye earlier this day, the guilt had been wearing him down and he had no bigger desire than putting things right with his family.
"Seriously?" Emily asked.
"Seriously." He was as sincere as he could be.
She searched his face and whatever she saw in there seemed to convince her. "Fine. But you'll have to stay for the proper time to recover after the cath procedure. And I want you to call me tomorrow to discuss where we're going from here."
He nodded. There was one other issue. "I don't want Ed to know. Not yet. Please?"
She tilted her head. "Oh, Alec. He cares about you, you shouldn't shut him out," she sighed.
"It's not that. His daughter nearly died of leukemia a few years ago and being back in this place isn't that easy for him. I don't want to burden him," Hardy admitted his concern about his friend.
Emily smiled at him, squeezed his shoulder and said, "I guess you care about him too, then."
Hardy shot her a sheepish glance and squirmed in the bed. The pain in his groin made him cringe and took his breath away.
"I'll talk to the nurse to get you some more pain medication," Emily offered.
"No. No more drugs. Don't wanna throw up again, I'll stick it out," Hardy insisted. After a few heartbeats he added shyly, "But maybe you could ask Ed to come back?"
"Of course," Emily said gently and left him after another shoulder squeeze.
Hardy closed his eyes. He replayed the conversation and ended with the same desperate feeling that no matter how he decided, nothing was a great option. There was one thing though that was clear as the morning sky. It was time to stop hiding. Finally.
A/N: The day is not over yet… I'm planning on posting the next chapter within the next 24 hours (so if you're in the US you can read it in your food induced coma or when you need to sneak in a break from your family or while you wait for yet another connecting flight in an overcrowded airport). It's my way of saying thanks to all my readers who have followed this story for the past months.
