Helen looked at the fragile, tiny baby in the maternity yard. Wrapped in a soft pink blanket, her head covered with the smallest of hats, Luna slept peacefully, like everything was right with the world.
Her life had started less than a handful of hours before, and already she had been gone through so much...
"We need to discuss what to do next."
Dora's eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, looking like someone who had only managed to control her tears right before walking in. She looked across the window, a sad smile blossoming across her lips. "She's so beautiful," she let out, the stern professionalism that she had been striving for slipping away in a gaze of pure tenderness.
There were other people gathered at that window, all sharing the same looks on their faces. Recent mothers, fathers, other relatives and friends, staring adorably at the new additions to their families, eyes full of wonder and hope.
There was no one there for Luna other than the hospital's deputy medical director and Max's assistant. And both of them looked ready to start crying all over again, the grief and pain still too near the surface to be contained.
They had called Georgia's parents, notifying them of both the good and the bad news. Gaining a grandchild had proven to be a poor counterweight to the devastating loss of their only child. Despite wanting to be there for their daughter and Luna, the elderly couple had not trusted themselves to get on a car and make the drive on that day, deciding to wait for the next available flight. The fact that neither of them had asked about Max had not gone unnoticed, but Helen had chosen not to comment.
Georgia was currently in the morgue, her body waiting for the family's decision on what to do. As far as anyone knew, she had not left any instructions behind. After all, if their family had been at risk of losing someone, it had been Max, not her.
Max...
Lauren had finally been deemed stable enough to be taken to surgery and she would be facing a long stay at the ICU. There was nothing that Helen could do for any of them now. She should have gone home to rest and recover, but instead, she had found herself wandering the corridors of the hospital, lost. Until she found herself looking at Luna. "What do you mean?" Helen asked, her voice hoarse like she had forgotten to use it for hours. Her arm was starting to ache fiercely, a stern warning that her last dose of painkillers was reaching its end.
"I hate to bring this up, but with both you and Max out of commission, the board wants to know-"
Sharpe snorted, an ugly sound that rarely escaped her lips. Out of commission sounded so clean-cut and... sterile. Like someone hadn't just taken Max's whole life and turned it upside down and inside out. "You can tell the board to go screw themselves," she let out calmly and collected, before turning on her heels and walking away.
0=0
Vijay, Floyd and Helen couldn't help but feel like they were prying on something too intimate and private to be witnessed by strangers or even friends. The three of them stood back silently as Max took a couple of hesitant steps forward, drawn to Georgia like a moth to the fire. He was openly sobbing by the time he reached the table, collapsing over his dead wife like a puppet whose strings had been suddenly cut.
Hartman opened his mouth to say something, some excuse or fact about the surgery, but the man seemed at lost for words. Losing a patient was never easy, but usually, he had no connection with those left behind to mourn those who died on his table. This was too close, too personal. He simply whispered a faint ' I'm sorry ' before making his way out with the rest of the OR staff following close behind.
In the silence that settled over the empty room, only Max's quiet sobs and hushed, broken words could be heard. The three doctors by the door were too far to hear, but that didn't really matter, because the words were not meant for them.
Max wrapped himself over Georgia, burying his head against her chest like he was searching for a heartbeat that was no longer there. He kept whispering in her ear, secret words and promises just for the two of them, something that they would share for the rest of their lives.
If they had been lucky enough to have a rest-of-their-lives together.
The others stood vigil at the door, stopping anyone trying to get in and interrupting Max from saying goodbye to the woman he loved. To the mother of his child.
Floyd stayed for as long as he could. When his pager went off, alerting him that Lauren was ready for surgery, he had exchanged a sad look with Helen and Vijay. He wanted to stay, but there was more than one of their friends in need of help and Lauren needed him more.
He took off at a run, leaving Sharpe and Kapoor to their watch.
Vijay, in particular, became some sort of fierce protector of the medical director's privacy, sending people away with nothing but a look and a frown. If there was someone that could relate to what Max was going through, it was him. It had taken the neurologist more than an hour to find the courage to pick up a phone and call the authorities to report his wife's death. Ansuya had been gone, without a warning or a goodbye and all Vijay had wanted at the time was to hold his wife forever.
Like Vijay and Max, Helen too had suffered the sudden loss of a loved one; but unlike them, she had not been so lucky as to have had a life with Mohammed before he died. All she had were their plans and dreams. Max and Vijay had managed to build something before their partners had been ripped away from them. In a sad, dark way, Sharpe envied them.
"Helen..." the word had been little more than a breathy whisper, quickly followed by the dull, heavy thud of a body hitting the ground hard.
In a rush, Vijay and Helen crossed the OR doors and raced to Max, who had crumpled to the floor in a heap of limp limbs and baggy clothes. It had only been a matter of time before the man's waning energy ran out completely.
In the middle of all the tragedy and loss, it was easy to forget that it had been hours since Helen had sent Max home. He had been too weak to walk or even swallow, the intense treatment for his cancer killing him faster than the disease ever could. And if that hadn't been enough, he had been in the same accident that had killed Georgia and a paramedic, sent Lauren to the OR, and dislocated Helen's shoulder.
Early on, Vijay had managed to convince Max to stay still long enough to get a CT-scan, but that had been as far as the stubborn man had allowed them to pry on his injuries. In fact, Kapoor was certain that Max had only agreed to do the scan because Georgia had been getting one too.
The medical director looked like something out of a horror movie, with his eyes sunk deep in his pale face and dried blood covering the side of his head and neck. There was no telling what damage could be hidden under all the layers of clothing Max was wearing.
It was a credit to the power of adrenaline that it had taken him that long to crash.
"Go find some help," Helen instructed the older man, even as she used her good hand to check Max's pulse. It was racing, but steady.
The medical director flinched away from the contact, struggling to force his lids to move. He wasn't unconscious, just too exhausted to keep his eyes open "I don't need help...I just need her," he whispered, his voice hoarse and faint, like he had to struggle to put the words together. "I ...need her."
Helen struggled to keep her tears at bay. He needed someone to be strong for him right now, and she was more than willing to be that person. "Max...I'm admitting you to the hospital," she informed steadily, placing a hand over his chest to stop him from getting up. The muscles beneath her touch were shaking like a wire stretched too thin, ready to snap. He shook his head, tears escaping the corners of his eyes as he moved his head from side to side. "Just for tonight...as a precaution, okay?"
When she had seen him struggling, pushing that wheelchair up a ramp like Sisyphus pushing his boulder up a hill, Helen had been tempted to keep Max in the hospital. As a patient, rather than as the medical director.
The only reason she had not followed her gut instinct at the time had been because she knew the man, knew how reluctant he was to show weakness in front of his coworkers...in front of those he loved. So, she had sent him home, a decision that had ultimately saved Luna's life, if not Georgia's.
This time, however, Sharpe had made her decision. Even though she was technically on medical leave, she was still Max's doctor, and, right now, he was in no condition to be alone. And if that meant finding him a hospital bed and drug him into getting some rest, then that was exactly what she was going to do.