A/N: Let me just take a moment to say sorry to all the dear readers. I was so busy with tests and schedules (finals are just around the corner!) that I couldn't find enough time to post this chapter. I sincerely thank you all for waiting patiently.
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Chapter 19: Let it go.
The stormy clouds whirled across the plain, far off from my hunched figure but close enough that I felt the dirt shift beneath me. Unfocused gaze roamed across the deep dome of the sky, the brown orbs colliding with the never-ending height. The wind picked up its magnitude, the clouds were travelling towards the west, towards the Darkness deep-rooted in these lands. Quite fitting it was, actually, for such horrendous weather was fated only for the destroyers. The weather should have been damp, cold even in the wake of such vapours but I still sat in the faint warmth and fresh breeze of Rivendell. A weather magically associated with the area a few yards from me.
The wind picked up some magnitude and my slow gaze was dragged towards the slowly moving clouds. The trees nearby, maybe in the front or the back, I wasn't focusing enough to fathom, creaked at the pressure. In the back of my mind, a voice told me to get up, to move from here because sitting here, as the rain would surely bombard on the earth, will not be in anyone's disfavour except me. It was shut quite abruptly, the sound that is, with a single question that reigned in my tired mind. What is the point?
It was quite surprising to think that all the vigour in me that previously reigned supreme was now sucked out of my very bones. The only reason for which I had wasted almost two years of my life was gone, vanished like vapours in thin air. It wasn't just the fact that I couldn't go back to the world where I belonged in, where I could live properly. The world that I knew about, that was familiar that was my very home. What also tore my insides was the fact that my whole family, my friends, my colleagues, my acquaintances everyone from my previous days. They were all gone. I couldn't meet them again. Even though I was alive, but for them, I must be pretty much dead. It was the pain and hurt of losing everyone I held dear simultaneously that poked at my heart. It was cold, insufferable, unnerving...
Unconsciously my arms tightened around my quivering knees. My hair flapped in the wind but the cold felt like nothing with my increasing discomfort. Maybe I was truly realising for the first time why they said that people who are discontented with the world become frigid and austere of those around them, Because of their irreparable heartache. It isn't because they become cold and unbearable it is because maybe they cannot feel anything anymore. It's like the rest of the world was just a passing frenzy, lost in the back of their minds. It felt the same to me at the moment, the piercing cold that pressed at my mind was the same jamming sensation, but I couldn't call myself aloof from the world just yet for there were too many emotions clashing in my mind at that moment.
I closed my eyes, inhaling a deep breath. Subconsciously I began identifying them, all the feeling that seemed to be stabbing at my heart.
Anger. It was the first thing my mind made out to be. Anger at the unfairness. Anger at my predicament. Anger at the world I was sitting in. At the world that I had yearned to go back to. At all the people I had left behind. And complete and utter rage at my misleading fate.
Fear. fear of knowing that I could never be truly adapted to my surroundings. That in the end when it will truly matter I won't be able to make my place in the world. Fear of how to survive in a world that completely clashed with my own upbringing and morals and left everything I once held to be true as nothing more than the dust filtering through the hand or the ice crunching beneath the feet. Totally and utterly useless.
Pain. It was engulfing, wrapping and twisting around my mind and burning across the pain and slashing at my heart. Pain that-
I gasped, blinking away the thoughts. My thoughts were in an override, mixing and clashing in my mind until I couldn't form another straight thought.
I closed my eyes, maybe to block my thoughts or to calm my emotions. It was becoming hard to tell my own actions apart. It might be better, I realised, if I did not think of all the feelings I was facing at that moment.. thinking about it solidified, carved it into my consciousness until I faced the reality of my predicament. And if there was one thing that I was still running away from then maybe it was facing the truth. I couldn't, I didn't want to and even if I did I wasn't able to. My mental capacity just faced a full stop there. I stared again, at the moving clouds as they engulfed the blue depth of the sky into their grey hues. They seemed to suck away the very colour of the land causing shadows to form under the fading colours. The hues twisted and turned, cooling around the gay brightness of nature until the only thing I could fathom was painted in black and white.
My musings were cut off by the crisp snap of a stone rolling off the path. I tensed when I realised that the sound just came from beside my spot. For the first time, my mind steered clear enough for me to make out the shadow of a man, over my profile. Looking up I was met with the same face with whom I had arrived in Rivendell. The elf whose name I wasn't even aware of. My mind screamed at me to ask about his presence there but in the light of recent events, I was too sluggish, too passive to make my body and mind connect. As if every part of my body had a mind and life of its own. Working and hurting separately.
His eyes took in the surrounding in one swift gaze, my haggard appearance, the rocky pathway, the impending downpour and the misty vale below before he dropped on the ground beside me. I tensed then, not wanting anybody to intervene in my private moment. I looked at him sideways, at his arm resting on his knee and his leg extended before him and a string of envy passed my mind at his relaxed posture. Shifting my gaze to the front, I opted to pretend as if he were not present.
"You should leave here.", his voice nearly made me snap out of my sentimental reverie. Looking at him from the corner of my eye, I chose not to answer. The reason I was alone at such a moment, in such a significant turning point in my life, was that I didn't want others to console me, or pity me or even try to be nice. Because even if I was turning into a douche, I did not have the patience nor the heart to deal with anyone from Middle-Earth. The anger surging in my veins was ready to burst out and this man-elf right here was just calling for it.
Waiting for his leave, my anger sparked when he continued to stare at me with that passive expression. I turned my gaze away, having no confidence to look into his knowing eyes. Elves were complex like that, having centuries of knowledge and the wisdom of ages hidden behind their youthful appearance.
"Maybe you should leave," I said, looking below, beyond the valley towards the greenish hue darkening the far path. He shifted, turning his front so that he could easily see the side of my face without craning his neck. He followed my gaze towards the darkening path and a soft sigh escaped him.
"A storm is coming," he said, his tone told me that he wasn't merely gesturing to the impending tycoon.
"Can't be bigger than the fucking storm raging in me right now." I murmured, tightening my arms around my knees. It was meant for myself but I remembered their super hearing abilities and the frustration sparked in me once more. If this elf really knew how to gauge the situation then he will not mention it. I felt like he wouldn't, he seemed to be able to read one's heart...
"It shall pass" Scratch that. Reading one's heart my foot. He couldn't even see my increasing irritation or even if he did he was pretending not to notice such blatant emotion. This day was turning out to be the best one of my life.
For the first time since he had intruded upon my mopping, I turned to face him fully. Putting a hand on the rocky back and the other at my hip, I squeezed both of my hands, in an effort to calm down and not to knock this elf right off this mountain, no matter how tempting it might be. Although I felt the rock cutting into my palm, I could tell by the vein throbbing at the base of my neck that all the efforts of calming myself were just crap.
"Pass?" My voice was dripping with scepticism as I glared at the side of his face. He turned to look at me. Until we both were facing each other. My glare still rested on his face, that was distant against the whirling dust of the rising wind. A hint of compassion reflected from his face as he spoke his next words.
"Yes, you shall learn to live your life here."
I snorted. The sound faded as the wind picked up its magnitude. The dust caused me to squeeze my eyes shut. For a long moment, there was silence. Partly because I wished the wind to settle down and partly because I didn't know what to say.
"Maybe I don't want to learn to live at the age of nearly twenty-nine." I finally broke the quiet, wiping a tired hand across my face. With a start, I realised that my hands were shaking. It took large effort to even raise my arm. Funny, how I felt the life sucked out of me. I sighed, closing my eyes and leaning back at the rocky mountain and loosened my arms. I felt a bit weak, the world spun and it felt better to just block the view out.
"Really?" His dubious voice cut across my musings. I inhaled a sharp breath. The emotions seemed stuck in my throat. I might have appreciated his concern some other day but at that particular moment it just made me frustrated and angry and all the emotions that I wanted to keep locked up in my heart just seemed to break away. Like a dam, whose thin walls no longer supported the cracks.
"Yes really!", I snapped, my voice hissing in barely controlled rage. I could tell that he was not expecting this anger. For his detached expression slipped away for a moment into a look of a startled man before that darned careful mask adorned his features yet again. I inhaled sharply, grabbing a large piece of rock with my right hand. I pressed at it and the pain helped to wash away the anger, even if just a little. "Look I know you're here to help but you're really pissing me off right now-"
His gaze turned startled once more, and at his quick look at my pants, I was left many things including incredulous.
"Not literally pissing. Angering me, I meant..." I supplied and his posture relaxed a bit. On top of all this infuriating talk, I had to spell out my meaning for him too? Nuh-Uh.
"You know what, just leave me alone." There it was, yet another tired plead.
A long moment passed. He stayed at his place. Looked like he wasn't leaving anytime soon. I sighed. If previous lives existed then I must have been a pretty shitty person for Karma to hit me like this. Was I suddenly starting to believe in previous life? More than one life? What was I even thinking about?
"There is a storm coming."
For a moment I tensed. Was he just arrogant bordering on misplaced confidence or just plain stupid? Did he just casually repeat a comment, even though I was waiting for him to leave?
"Are you serious right now?"
"The clouds-"
"I know about the damn clouds!" I cried, throwing the large stone across the valley in exasperation, "and I know that there is literally a storm coming"
I took another sharp breath, "But unless you want a figurative one to rain on you right now, leave here."
"It always passes." Yet. Again his tone spoke of my delirium rather than the arriving storm. It was proving to be extremely exhausting to keep up with his changing thoughts.
Still, I scoffed at his words. Last time I checked, he had not space travelled into a whole new dimension.
"How would you know."
He considered my words for a moment. And then after almost an hour of sitting here with him, I saw his posture slacken as a sigh reverberated from him.
"I don't know, and will not pretend to know the extent of your pain, Lady Lanette,", he said, his voice held a conviction which I didn't understand, or 'didn't want to understand?' I asked myself before his voice pulled me out of my musings, yet again, "but I have always admired one thing in man, and that is their ability to surge through the hardships and conquer their heartbreak"
It was surprising to see such softness in his tone, and as his glazed eyes stared down the valley I wondered what loss he had suffered to be sitting here and wanting me to manoeuvre through it with such stubbornness.
"Elves fade, when inflicted with such a situation, and yet here I see you sitting depressed and yet still, somehow, you have that will to live behind the veil of your boiling emotions."
His eyes stared at mine, and I couldn't look away. Because at that moment it was not about the challenge, it was something of a deeper understanding that seemed to exist between us even though I knew nothing about him and neither him my true story. Funny, how fate ties such peculiar knots.
"A will of fire that still burns."
"That is why come to Rivendell Lady Lanette, for if we cannot do much at least we can help you accommodate a little to this world around you, to start over a life that is still young." I looked away. Something stuck in my throat and the tears that had been burning for a while now threatened to fall.
Was it truly it? Were the days of my old life just gone like that? Vanished like a vapour in the storm, leaving no sign behind? Was I supposed to accept this so easily? Accept the fact that I am not to meet my family, my friends, my colleagues, the people I loved? Hell, I'd be happy even to meet the people who annoyed the hell out of me. All of these sentiments were just because I wanted so desperately to go back. So severely wanted this all to end as one heck of a dream. To wake up in my old comfortable bed and find the wind filtering through my drawn curtain. To wake up to that annoying sound of the alarm, only to snooze it off again.
I wanted to get up like I did before. Get that work clothes on and rush through the house taking a cup of steaming tea and munching on a rolled toast. I wanted to drive my car across the lanes and to go into that huge hospital. I wanted to sit behind my desk as I checked the patients. Stand in the operating room to feel that need to save a life. And then after all that, I wanted to go out to party with my friends. Or to go back to my parent's place to crash their dinner and then sleep in my old, childhood room, that despite all the years was still as it was. And now, suddenly, to accept that I have to be here forever, no no, I couldn't possibly do that.,
"It doesn't work like that, It isn't so damn easy." I gritted out,
"That is why I said that you can do it."
That single sentence felt like a slap to me. I whirled around to face him, just as a raindrop fell on my eyelash. Finally, the water descended.
"I-"
"You've been doing it for last year," he said, cutting across my plea. He was right, just when I wanted him to be wrong. God, why?
"That's right but" I stopped, considering whether I wanted to venture there. All the thoughts of constraint flew out of the window as a lone tear escaped my left eye and mixed with the layers of rain.
"It hurts so damn much.", I gasped, closing my eyes to let the rain wash over my face. I was shivering all over, from cold or sadness I wasn't sure. "I never thought that everything I knew about, I held dear, would just be snatched away in a moment"
The tears wouldn't stop now. They mixed with the raindrops falling on my face and soaked my clothes. In some unconscious part of my mind, I wondered if he would leave as the storm was only going to grow stronger but he stayed there, sitting relaxed as the rain poured over him, not making a single movement of displeasure. At that moment I was thankful. No matter how much I had cursed at him, irritated him and asked him to leave, he was still there. Maybe, just maybe the one thing that I felt strongly about this world was the sentiments of the people. Their morals might be old and shabby but they weren't dishonourable. So I looked at him sideways, his figure blurred in the wake of my tears and the I sniffled before pouring out all that I was thinking, feeling and regretting now.
"There wasn't even a chance for a goodbye, because we were supposed to be meeting this Sunday at a barbecue but it didn't happen"
"This mother's day, my sister told me that our mother had seen this diamond ring in the store and that she wanted it but I went to a conference and forgot to give it to her and I still," the words stuck in my throat, "still hadn't given it to her."
The rain washed the mud, down the mountain. Its magnitude increased to the point that I couldn't see one metre ahead of me. It splashed on my body yet I still felt numb. I should've felt the stinging pain and yet I didn't. I couldn't.
"Last month my father reprimanded me when I had added too much sugar in his coffee. But I was tired after my night shift and had told him that he was never happy with me."
That look on his face when I had uttered those words. The look that I had disregarded that day because I was so tired and couldn't think straight. Now It haunted me.
"To think about it, I hadn't made him another cup since then."
I had never been expressive with my feelings. And saying those three simple words to my family felt so cheesy and left me embarrassed. It was the same with all four of us. But now, I wanted nothing more to hug them and say 'I love you, Mom, Dad, my sister, I love you all so much that it hurts.'
What would I do to have my mom's arms around me as she pulled me to sleep? As she told me how annoying her children were and when I would say but you still adore us she would sigh and look at us both with such love that thinking about it now shattered my heart.
"I was so scared coming here," I continued, wiping a hand across my face, "I hate this world and all its morals and values because I know that I have never even thought of the things this world so readily accepts" How would I live here. As a woman. As a working, career woman. What would I do? Who would listen to me when I would say that I wanted to be on the road. I could fool people for a few years but I could not change their minds forever. What would happen when I would be old and lonely,? What about now? Would anyone sincerely care?
"The only thing that held me until now was the fact that in the end, I will be able to go back but now..." Now, that dream was gone. Burned down. Never to spark hope again. The world felt closing around me. The rain seemed to be drowning and I gasped, not remembering how to breathe. The shadows closed in on me and when I cried out in pain and anger. The elf looked at me. He seemed to take in my desperation as if it harmed his own soul.
"I don't know what I am supposed to do" my whisper was carried away by the wind. The howling roars of the air wiped out my soft plea as it floated from my mouth and vanished before me. And yet he heard it sitting beside me and a lone tear left his eye. I wondered minutely if I had renewed some memories that were left to be buried. Some heartache that should have been left cold.
"I was the same age as you Lady Lanette when my parents sailed to Valinor."
Valinor. I raked my tired brain. Nothing. I remembered nothing. "In the immortal lives of elves, one is still considered a youngster after a few centuries."
I listened to him. Without making a sound because something told me that this plea was begging to be heard but never was. That he wanted to pour out his anguish but never could. What better place was to say it, than in the company of a person that had just stripped their emotions bare in front of you. I realised then, why people said that the quickest and strongest bonds were created over mutual empathy.
"I didn't know what to do either, for they were the only family I had at that time, it took me a while and help from a lot of my fellows to finally let go but I did it."
It didn't look like he had moved on. Our eyes me for a moment and he seemed to understand my silent question because his gaze met with the rocky path beneath us. The passive mask of the elves was gone. Left with the pain and anger that left him alive and so very humane. I let it go. Somethings are just better left unsaid.
There was a long silence. I wiped another hand across my eyes to wipe off the tears. They were swollen and most probably red. My hair plastered across my face and neck and my clothes soaked against my body. What a pretty sight I must look like.
My gaze wandered over to the left side of the valley and even under the hollering rain I could make out the soft warm glow of Rivendell. The storm didn't descend there. It felt serene against the weather outside. Just like the storm that raged on me was nothing for the people here. How apt.
The elf broke the silence again. This time his shaking voice had calmed to the point of previous detachment but his expression remained troubled.
"I won't dare to compare my situation with yours, for living in a world entirely parallel to the one you were born in must be inexplicable,"
You have no idea boy, I sighed, listening to what he had to say.
"Still," his voice held a new persuasion, "Still, you can move on and carve out a path in the barren life of this era"
"Why do you even," I inhaled sharply before continuing, "even care?"
There, the question that I had asked every person that I had come across in this world. Why do they care? and care for a stranger. Just why?
He seemed to contemplate the answer. Because maybe we both knew how much this answer mattered. To me, to him. For my new beginning, for the new life, I was about to undertake.
"I felt your bravery," I felt a similar smirk pulling at my lips. The same bravery, that I couldn't see but somehow they did. What absolute rubbish, "no one can survive for so long in an entirely different situation but you did, moving across the world in these dark times only to find your purpose."
"Not everyone is able to do that." Yeah right. I turned away uttering a small scoff and a smile pulled at his face. Maybe he was expecting my incredulity.
We sat there for a long while. The silence reigning between us was thick but both of us had enough thoughts to not bother.
The rain washed down and dimmed to a slight drizzle. I shivered and sniffled, this time against the freezing cold and the throb inside my head increased until I groaned in pain. The elf took one look and me and got up. His fine robes soaked fully and sagging across his shoulders. He extended one arm and his hand looked pale and cold but still somehow, clean of the grime. I stared at the extended fingers and the at his bent figure until he sighed. He closed his fingers before extending them again. In the same way, he had done just yesterday when we had arrived. How the situation has changed in one night.
"Sometimes it is nice to accept a friendly hand" he commented and I grasped his hand and he pulled me up. Looking at him sideways, I chose not to answer.
The next two days passed while sleeping.
It must sound impossible but that's how it was. I got back with the elf, whose name I still wasn't aware of, and went straight to my rooms. Keeping my head down, I passed through the hallways, ignoring any person I came across until, in my haste, I collided with the impatient figure of Lord Elladan, waiting outside the door. I looked up then and whatever he was going to say died on his tongue as he took in my haggard appearance.
"I-" he halted, his gaze flickering to the scroll in his hands and somewhere in my mind I registered it to be of the one who came before me. Without a word, I snatched it out of his hands and moved to the rooms. He opened his mouth to say something but couldn't so as I smashed the door with a small nod of acknowledgement. The knocking stopped abruptly at the click of the lock.
I wouldn't say that talking to that elf didn't help. It did, but maybe only for that moment as the rain pattered down on us. The grief I felt went way deeper and was not something to be washed away with just one talk. With my soaked clothes, I fell onto the bed not even thinking for one moment that maybe I needed to change.
Then I did the one thing I always did when dealing with my problems. I slept.
In my defence, I went to sleep in the afternoon, so it wasn't surprising that I woke up the next day. It was early dawn and the diluted rays of the sun collided with the thick fabric of the curtain causing patterns all over the room. I didn't have the strength nor the heart to get up. I felt drained, to the last drop of strength and the throbbing in my head made me groan out loud. I had no modern medicine and if I were to stop this increasing migraine I would have to move out of this little sanctuary and talk to others while the treated me as something fragile enough to break in this pitiful condition of mine. Finding no other path, I closed my eyes again.
When I woke up again, it was already deep into the night. The soft, yet persistent knocking on my door continued for another moment before the person behind the door uttered a sigh. Then there was silence. 'Maybe they have left', I thought, my mind cloudy and blank as I tried to blink away the sleep but what could I say about the elves. Their steps were so silent that I wouldn't even know if someone was pacing out there.
I tried to get up but to no avail. My body felt stiff against the mattress and wouldn't move. I tried wriggling my fingers and realised that they were numb. By that time, had I been in my right mind, my medical instincts would have kicked in because numb body after sleeping was not a good sign any day. And yet there I laid, giving up on making my fingers move as I stared at the canopy of the bed. The mud from yesterday caked my body and the dryness felt uncomfortable and-
My thoughts were cut off by yet another knock and a soft "Lanette" made me fathom the presence of Calyniel, and so I tried my best to make my body move until I could get up effectively. But rather than opening the door and assuring her, I threw off my sticky boots and the over shirt before turning away from the door and laying down again.
I was surprised that I could even sleep by then. Although, sleeping was not how I would describe the next hours until the dawn. It was more of like a cinema, a tape going on in my head reminding me of all the things that were, that are, and what could've been. I saw them on the wall facing me and I closed my eyes in an effort to cancel them out only to see them printed on my lids.
'Hallucinations due to hunger' Some part of me said, but the said hallucinations cancelled that small voice of maturity and sense until I was again rendered as useless and petty as a child throwing a tantrum. How nice.
"Get Doctor Garcia now!" I yelled at the passing nurse as we dragged the stretcher to the emergency operation theatre. Taking another swift look at the bleeding patient, I got on the stretcher myself to press his profusely bleeding wound. The damage to his liver was severe and with the huge amount of outward bleeding and internal rupture, it was a miracle that he hadn't died yet.
We got to the operating room in haste and the staff had laid out the surgical equipment. I got off the stretcher after asking the resident to hold the pressure on his abdomen. Taking the clothes, I changed and cleaned in all the haste.
An impatient sigh escaped me as I looked at the clock. The patient was dying and Dr Garcia was not here! I raged inside. Again I cursed the hierarchy of the hospital. I had gotten my specialisation from the UK and had passed the National exam back here in California and yet the director still had to approve my Attending Physician promotion. Because my medical knowledge wasn't enough based on my "British" studies. I couldn't exactly blame them too, having saved half of the years it took in America. Still, passing the exam with flying colours surely meant that I deserved it. Being the general surgeon I was, I couldn't blame them for putting me in the emergency ward but still, my application of the trauma surgeon passed my head as I instructed the anaesthesia to be given and laid out the mechanisms that would be needed for the impending surgery.
The residents followed politely, having a series of successful operations under one's belt and being called the new ace of the hospital (After the talented, handsome, polite and genius Doctor James Garcia, that is) helped the matters but right now as the agonising clock ticked above us I felt anxiousness taking over my bones as I tapped my feet waiting for Dr. outside the ward. My arms strained to withhold them at sixty degrees (in an effort to not get them dirty after cleaning) I craned my neck to look at the deserted hallway. Being a fellow was agonising like that. It was a big operation, one that couldn't be undertaken without a senior and the only senior at duty today was Dr Garcia, who at this time might be busy with some other operation.
I cursed lightly, moving into the room to observe the CT and FAST that had just come out. The symptoms were severe and it would be appreciated if the doctor could-
"Dr Lanette, the symptoms!" Doctor Garcia swept inside the room. His operating suit on and gloves still bloodied from the previous operation.
My instincts kicked in and I placed the scans on the small table beside him.
"CT and Fast came out. Grade 3 haemorrhage. The liver is damaged and there seems to be a graze to the pancreas. Autophagy may occur, yet has not started. Peripheral hypo-perfusion is severe. The patient is in a state of severe shock. Capillary refill is slow and is the major cause right now." I said putting on my own gloves as I moved to stand in my position.
"Vitals?" he asked, putting on new gloves provided by the nearby nurse.
"Blood pressure decreased by 28, rapidly decreasing. Heart rate is too rapid. Cardiac arrest may occur. Mental shock is severe."
"Put up intravenous fluid. See the blood group and give his blood."
"Done sir."
"Nice. We'll do a laparoscopy and if the need arises we'll move to surgery." I stiffened at the order. I had just prepared everyone for direct surgery and here...
"But Dr Garcia isn't it better to have immediate surgery." I supplied. In my anxiousness, I failed to see the stiffness of his expression and the silent sighs of the nurses. Dr Garcia's cold gaze rested on me for only a moment before he muttered a "Move!" to get us to work. Looks like we have to go that way. I put my little idea in the back of my mind and smiled in triumph as the treatment ended successfully.
Three days passed in a flurry of work and family gathering and the next time I got to the hospital to perform another critical surgery, I was told that the said surgery, of my month old patient, was to progress without me.
"What do you mean I am not to do it!" I asked the startled young nurse, my voice taking a harsh undertone. I had treated that patient for a full month. It was so unprofessional to take my right like that. Yes, the surgery was no doubt critical but unless it had taken even critical undertone and another attending physician was required there was no way I was not to perform it.
Nurse Jane, a motherly old lady, seeing my increasing frustration took her seat behind the counter, shooing the young nurse onto her way. Seeing the creases on her cocoa face I quietened a little, hoping that she would elaborate.
"Doctor Garcia himself requested someone else to perform the surgery with him."
"He specified by name?" I asked, my heart sinking a bit. There were five fellows in our year and six attending physicians. One of each physician, except for the senior Dr Watson, was to take a fellow under their wing for a few months. The doctors hadn't specified anyone yet, but everyone knew that the best shot they had was to work under the young ace, Dr James Garcia. Not only the age gap won't be of a generation, making communication easier, but also everyone in the prestigious hospital agreed, proudly and sometimes begrudgingly, that he was a jewel among the stones in the medical field. Being under his wing was actually a big score. Dr Garcia had not till now asked specifically for someone but if he had now...
Nurse Jane looked uncomfortable at that. For a moment her gaze dropped to her lap before moving up to meet mine.
"He specified that he did not want to work with you, Dr Anderson." I took a moment to decipher the blow.
"What?" I asked, my heart sinking in my chest, "Why?"
No doctor has yet specified their fellows but everyone was trying to make a subtle impression. If Dr Garcia himself has requested me to be removed then all those extra operations had just gone down the drain.
"I think that he is not happy Dr Anderson," Nurse Jane continued and my eyes shifted back to her. Because the only fellow on duty now aside from you is Dr Julia Longfellow and he preferred her over you."
Now that was a huge blow to my pride. Everyone knew that Dr Julia had become a fellow because of her connections. There are two major chains of hospitals. Dr Julia being heir to the one and our hospital is the part of another. Just to say the directors were quite chummy with each other and it hadn't taken long for her to become a fellow.
I knew that it was wrong to judge based on family connections and I truly had believed, even if for a short while, that behind the bitchy facade was hiding a talented surgeon. Well, until I had seen her vomit all over the place when I had undertaken an operation with her as a resident. Or when she had been disgusted to give first aid to anyone who was not good looking in her books. Or when a patient had nearly died because she couldn't be bothered with 'one patient too long'.
If Dr Garcia truly didn't want me there than I had messed up real bad.
My phone tinged with a notification. Trying to hide my ever increasing disappointment, I gulped when I saw the said man's message. It was short and strict, quite apt with his persona
'Dr Anderson meet me in my office. Now."
I walked towards his room, unconsciously fixing my coat and brushing off imagined dust, all the while trying to remember what I had done. His office seemed demeaning and I knocked twice before I heard his approval. Inside Dr, Garcia was overlooking files, piled neatly on his desk. Vaguely he gestured to the seat in front of his desk and I took it, without uttering a word until he talked.
"I'll get to the point Dr Anderson," he said, leaning forward on the seat with his hands clasped firmly in front of him. "What you did in operation theatre a few days ago. Did you understand the complexity of your words?"
I raked my brain furiously about what I had done. In situations like these, it was in your goodwill if you said that you did remember and was extremely sorry but I just looked down at my hand clasped in my lap.
"You do not even know what I am referring to, do you?"
"I'm sorry." I uttered, swallowing to keep my voice steady.
"For what?" he prodded. His eyebrow was raised and he wanted to know what I was sorry for. Even I did not know what I was to be sorry for. I had checked the vitals, considered the scans and had waited for the operation and... wait.
I tensed as I remembered my unasked opinion and the glare I had received in return. I knew that I shouldn't have spoken out of turn like that but if Dr Garcia was holding a grudge because of that, then he really was an extremely petty man.
"I'm sorry for speaking out of my turn," I said. Looking up to assess his expression. My syllables rolled out slowly as if gauging his reaction to my speech. For a moment he looked surprised but that look was gone so fast that I thought to have imagined it.
"So you do know it." he contemplated for a moment, "but you still don't know what was truly wrong."
I looked down again. Being humble was the only thing that was going to work for me now, it seemed.
"Tell me, Dr Anderson. If you were a resident or even a nurse and you saw a fellow, during a critical operation having a disagreement with the Doctor in charge, what will you think."
Then it clicked. My face flushed with embarrassment.
"Either the Doctor in charge is not right and if he doesn't consider the opinion then he is too arrogant to take one."
"Or." he prodded further, my blunt sentence wasn't bothering him.
"Or the Fellow thinks too highly of herself and maybe doesn't know how to deal with operations."
He leaned back, satisfied.
"I like opinions of others working with me and I mostly ask for it. During a critical operation, the whole team has to work efficiently. You thought about the second path but so did I and in my mind, the first one came out better. If I had been unsure, I am not arrogant enough, to not ask opinions."
I nodded. Now my simple words seemed far from what I had initially thought them to be. Simple, that is.
"I can work with a Dr. that doesn't know how to hold a scalpel but I cannot work with a Doctor who can cause discord within the team at a critical point."
"I understand. I'll be careful." I said. Hopefully, this will be now resolved.
"No. You won't be careful," he replied with an affirmative that made me look up.
"Find it." he ended as if in dismissal.
"Find it?" I asked, glued to my seat. Dr Garcia wasn't going to let this go and now he was talking in riddles.
"Find what, Doctor?"
"No matter how much of an ace you are Dr Anderson. In the end, it will be useless if you do not let out your anxiety. We both know, as medical staff, what role psychological health plays in one's efficiency."
Mental health? Now it was about my mental health. I must have gaped in indignation because I heard him chuckle.
"You took my words the wrong way Doctor," he replied, an amused smirk curling across his face, "I'm not raising concerns about your mental health." Even his tone was now amused. He was always serious and now he got amusement out of teasing. What a jerk- I meant What a senior.
"I meant," he turned serious once more, "our job is an anxious one. It is impossible to be at ease when knowing that a single mistake can cost someone's life."
I nodded in affirmation. After these years I was sure that the knots in my shoulders had become permanent. "It is the job of a Doctor to second guess himself, to think of all the alternate ways and then making a decision based on one's own conscience. It turns out to be a cause of ever-increasing anxiety."
But still what was it? What was I supposed to find?
"Everyone should have an outlet for such anxiety. If it coils inside someone. It could lead to inefficient work. Every senior has one. Even if it's crying it still works,"
"sometimes," he added as an afterthought.
Oh. An outlet. I nodded instinctively. I wondered what he had as an outlet and then quenched the thought. Professionalism.
"I can tell that you do not have one. It'll be better for you to find one."
I sensed the dismissal. I got up from my seat and nodded.
"I'll try to find it." He nodded and uttered a nice before concentrating back on the files. I reached the door when I heard him say, "There is an operation this Thursday. You better have an outlet by then. Or I'll call Dr Julia again."
I couldn't help the smile. I was on track for the under-wing position again. The passing workers held me from performing a happy dance. Or else I would've busted out that Gangnam style.
XxxxX
I washed my hands up til my elbows, carefully, getting ready for the upcoming operation. Dr Garcia, dressed in his own operating suit came around the corner. We exchanged greetings as he set about to wash his arms too. The vitals had been already discussed.
"Did you find it?" My gaze shifted towards him. Of course, I knew what he was talking about.
"I did."
He raised a brow, waiting for me to continue. I felt my cheeks reddening so I ducked to the side to dry my arms.
"I watched lion king."
There it was, the booming laugh.
I remembered the cuts on his hands after the operation he had performed two days ago and a little bit of prodding led me to find out that he preferred rock climbing.
"At least I won't fall off to my death." I supplied, looking pointedly at his recently healed cuts.
I was rewarded with a gobsmacked expression. It was now my laughter that reverberated off the walls.
I didn't even know why that memory came to be. Maybe because it made me laugh then or maybe because in the coming year I had developed more of a friendly relation with Dr Garcia, whom I later came to call James. But it made me think for a moment. Find something, huh? What can I do James? There ain't no lion king here.
"Hey. 'Zup." I snapped out of my review. Turning around, I was met with a very smiley and very tanned (not that I'm complaining) Dr James Garcia.
"Did you just say 'Zup'?" I asked, moving around the bed to take the coffee he had bought. One sip. It was actually tea. I murmured thanks.
"I knew it wasn't a nice phrase but I had to try it, so what better place than with a friend."
"A cool-headed, nice and smart friend, you mean." I waggled my brows and he uttered a laugh.
"How's it going Dr Lanette, now that you're a full-time physician."
"In sleeplessness." Not even joking
He nodded once. Then his haze switched to the file I was reviewing and the patient on the bed in general ward.
"Aren't the vitals right?" I nodded, "Then what's with him?"
I sighed, rubbing a hand across my brow, "It is more of a psychological problem. Dr Kate said that he will wake up only if he wants to... If that makes any sense."
"That how mental health works."
"Poor thing. He has no family." My gaze went to his youthful face now pale and sickly. Only 21 this poor boy.
"No friends. no one to return to. Maybe that's why..." I trailed off. James looked contemplating as we turned the corner and walled to his office.
I sat on the chair, and was about to ask about his vacation when he cut me,
"Do you really think that Lane" I scrunched my brows.
"That one lives for their loved ones?" he supplied, sitting across me.
"Doesn't everyone?" I said, my tone taking on a matter of fact tone, "I mean why would one live if they have no one to be with them truly. It'll be too lonely and hard..." I trailed off. My heart wasn't truthfully one with what I had just said.
"Think of it like this. If somehow everyone you love, your parent, your friends die," he raised both hands when I opened my mouth to interrupt, "I said suppose. Would you kill yourself too?"
"Of course not!" I scoffed. "It would be hard, yes but I wouldn't kill myself."
"Why?
"Because it's my life-" I chuckled then. He wanted me to say that.
"See, No one lives for others. One lives for themselves. Because it's their life and they do not want to throw it away."
I nodded, a soft smile taking its place on my face.
"We only live for ourselves. Our loved ones make life worth smiling."
"Right. I understand."
"Enough of that," he said waving a hand, suddenly embarrassed about his deep observations, "Now, you have to hear this. The other day..."
And then I tuned into his story, the conversation moving to the back of my mind as he told of his week in Hawaii.
My body felt weak still. And I wanted to turn to the other side but somehow I couldn't move. There was it again, that nagging voice in the back of my mind. The memories stopped after that and like a trance, I felt a line repeating,
"No one lives for others. They live for themselves. Because it is their life and they do not feel like throwing it away."
'But,' my heart argued, 'it wasn't the same. I had lost everything.'
'Not yourself,' the voice echoed again, 'you have yourself.'
Suddenly things felt clearer, the more I tuned onto the sensible part of my mind the more I felt my previously bombarding sentiments arranging, 'Weren't you always about being alone and independent. What now?'
'But.' My heart interrupted once again, not willing to let go.
'Get up! Lanette Anderson. You have to get up for yourself.'
"I have no one here!" I snapped out loud. I truly was going mad, arguing with myself and all that. Taking a calming breath I closed my eyes once more and as if the sane part of me was being sarcastic I remembered the words.
"I hope you know that I am always going to be here if you come back." Raforta's motherly expression as she held me in that parting hug.
"That might just be the last thing that I want." Eohere's soft expression as he uttered those words.
"I hope that a day comes when you trust someone here enough to tell them the truth about your past. No matter how hard trust seems to you this day." Brilon's words that I knew truly meant that he would be there to trust me if I chose it.
"You have that quality m'lady, the one that inspires confidence and loyalty without a word." Naimla's trusting words despite her closed personality.
It was not just the words that made me forget, for a small moment, the grief that was eating at me, but those expressions.
Raforta's warmth. Butterbur's kindness. Eohere's selflessness. Lord Dervorin's trust. Lady Cathiel's reliance. Lady Brinielel's help. Anariel's concern. Bnaria's support. Brilon's help. Naimla's unsaid thanks. Even Calyniel's friendship.
I had done nothing to deserve any of it but I still had it. Their faith, compassion and consolation at every turn of my way.
Why did they? Then I heard that voice again. The previous strong conviction melted into a deep sincerity,
'Because in the end, despite all differences and divergence, they are still human.'
'So get up Lanette.' That voice, who in reality was I myself, said,
'Get up and show this world that yes a woman can carve out a legacy of her own. A woman can live by herself, fend for herself, live for herself. Get up because you do not want to end like this.'
Then I did. I struggled to my feet, overcame the weakness and walked to the window. With a sharp tug, the curtain recoiled, giving view to the soft light of dawn filtering across the scenery.
I stared at the serene environment. The storm inside of me raging more and more until I released a tortured gasp.
Selfish? I wasn't enough to destroy numerous lives to live one. But for me, now, it was important more than ever to stand on my own two feet.
I will carve a life in a world I wasn't supposed to be in. What brought me here was fate but what made me move was my own will. And now, I will latch onto that one little piece of string to navigate through this ocean of doubt.
Why? There was only one simple answer. Because I wanted to live. In the purest sense of that word. I wanted to live, to the fullest. To be one day old and weak, lying on a bed and to look back with a soft smile at a life well lived. Not a life left abandoned.
So, as I stood gazing at the sun rising above the clouds, I wiped the tear escaping my eye. For the life I had cried two years over, there won't be any more of those, Not now not ever.
To be continued...
A/N: Even though it might seem that there was no real progress in this chapter but in my mind, it is extremely important to make Lanette move on. Because I consider that there won't be any real use of her talents if half of the time she will be crying over something unattainable. If that makes any sense.
****I want to change the SUMMARY of the story as it is taking a different turn than the one I had written in those 300 or so words. If anyone has any IDEAS please contact me. I suck at those summaries. It'll be of great help and I'll credit the person :)****
The next chapter won't be until the mid to end of JUNE. My finals are fast approaching and it is extremely important for me to focus on them. There won't be any nice chapters if I wrote with all the tension I have right now. I hope you all understand. Till then, Ciao bella and of course bello!