Erin made her way slowly back to Robert's room. She found the remote
control and switched on the television. She scanned the channels, and
settled on some news program. She stared at the screen blankly for what
seemed like an eternity, when the click of the door latch turned her head.
Kerry Weaver stuck her head in, seeming surprised by the empty space where
the bed should have been. Then she turned and saw Erin, and moved into the
room. "Hey, Kerry," she greeted her with a small smile. "Dr. Malcolm said
you'd been here."
Dr. Weaver crossed the room to gently stroke the young woman's shoulder. "Hello, Erin." The warmth of her tone and the sympathy in her face made Erin laugh a little. "Somebody's been talking to Dr. Kovac."
Kerry nodded. "I don't think he intended it as gossip. We were all very worried about you - none of us could understand why you reacted so violently to the situation. Luka told us what he knew so we would."
"Who exactly is 'us'?"
"Well, myself, Susan Lewis, Dr. Carter and Abby." Erin's expression registered her surprise, and Kerry hastened to explain further. "We were discussing the quarantine when it came up."
"The ER's still under quarantine?"
"Yes, for the next two weeks. John and Abby, Jing-Mei and Pratt in the ER, and the family of the little boy in respiratory."
Erin could not stifle her laughter. "What a nightmare - the job you just can't leave." She grasped the back of her neck and pulled, trying to ease some of the tension in her muscles. Kerry glanced once again at the empty space in the middle of the room. "So where is Dr. Romano?"
Erin followed her gaze. "He's back in the OR. The surgeon felt there was cause for concern."
"The duskiness in his fingers?" Erin nodded. "Who did they get to give consent?"
Erin waved her hand. "You're looking at her."
Kerry was a bit taken aback. "Are you sure that was the right decision?"
Erin was slightly annoyed. "I can't believe you even have to ask that, Kerry. First of all, I thought the one thing we all understood about Robert was his professional ambition. Of course he would want the most aggressive measures taken. Secondly, if you listened to anything Luka had to say, you should know I would never do anything that wasn't in Robert's best interest."
Dr. Weaver became a little defensive. "I understand that you have the best intentions. I just wondered if you felt the scope of your knowledge was wide enough to make an informed decision."
"Wait a second!" Erin could feel the rage and frustration that had been swirling inside her taking focus. "People with no medical training whatsoever make these kinds of judgement calls on behalf of their loved ones every day! I'm a doctor, and I love him! I'm not sure how much wider my scope could be!"
"I understand that, I just meant."
Erin cut her off with an impatient flick of her wrist. "Kerry, let's get one thing straight, okay? You are not my boss here. You are not Robert's doctor; you're not even his friend! In this room, you are little more than an interested bystander! If you can't handle that and keep your mouth shut about it, then get out! And don't bother coming back!" She turned her back for a moment, trying to compose herself. When she heard Dr. Weaver beginning to move towards the door, she spoke again, gentler this time. "Kerry, wait." She turned to face her once again. "Look, I'm sorry. I never expected to find myself in this kind of situation. I'm pissed off and frustrated, and I don't mean to take it out on you."
"I understand," Kerry spoke softly. "There's no need for apologies." She limped heavily back to Erin's side and put her arm around the young woman's shoulders. "At least you've got these next two weeks to be with him, take care of him, help him figure out where to go from here. And I'll do my best to help out wherever I can."
"Be careful, Kerry. You know how paranoid he can get. Don't make him think you're trying to engage him in a power struggle now that he's got a strike against him." Kerry laughed a little, but Erin took her arm, her expression serious. "I mean it, Kerry. I have a feeling, when he's back on his feet, he's going to be a force to be reckoned with." Dr. Weaver nodded in understanding, and headed for the exit once more. As she pulled the door open, she looked back over her shoulder. "Page me when he's out, okay? I'd like to hear how it all went."
And then she was gone, leaving Erin alone in the silence. She paced the room like a caged animal until, an eternity later, the doors opened once more. Dr. Malcolm entered the room with a nurse, pushing Robert's gurney back into place. He regarded Erin's anxious expression with a wide smile. "Looks good," he affirmed. "Looks very, very good."
Erin sighed in relief. "Thank you so much."
"He'll probably be out another hour or so. I'll be back to check on him later, and explain where we're at."
He exited the room with purpose, leading Erin to believe he had other matters to attend to. It didn't matter much to her. She pulled the lounge chair closer to Robert's bedside and sank into it, reclining it as far as it would go. She spread her lab coat over herself in lieu of a blanket, hugged her arms over her chest, and waited for him to awaken.
Pain.
His shoulder was on fire, his fingers resting on a bed of needles.
He turned his head to the left and swore he could feel his brain sloshing from one side to the other.
Grimace.
His eyes opened slowly. His arm, a field of white plaster, propped at an angle, secured with rods and pins.
Fuck.
His throat grainy, mouth dry, tongue swollen. Water.
He turned his neck again, saw the cup on the rolling table. Snagged the stand with his right hand and pulled it over in front of him. Grasped the cup, lifted it to his lips. Not very cold, but liquid. He drank the cup dry, then simply let his arm fall back to his side. His eyes screwed into focus.
She was asleep in her chair, chest rising and falling with slow, languid breaths. His body flooded with intense relief. He let his gaze rest on her, memorizing every detail of her face, every angle of bone, every curve of flesh. Her eyelashes fluttered a bit and her eyes opened. She yawned, and stretched her arms over her head, arching her back. He felt the slight stirring of activity below his belt line. Oh, you kid, he thought to himself. Her gaze moved to him, and her eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, you!" Her voice was music. "What are you doing?"
"Enjoying the view." His voice was gravelly, and he tried to clear his throat. She jumped out of her chair and rushed to his side. He chuckled. "Take it easy, gorgeous. It's not like I'm going anywhere." She took the cup from his hand and filled it with fresh water. Then she handed it back to him, and he drank once more. Colder, this time. Much better.
"How long have you been up?" She asked, gazing down at him with relief and affection that was almost palpable.
"Long enough to remember that you look like an angel when you sleep." He cocked his head to the side. "Come here." She leaned in obediently and he caught her lips with his. More twitching below the waist. Easy, big fella. A sudden shot of white-hot fire from shoulder to finger. He winced again, his breath hissing from between clenched teeth.
Erin pulled back in alarm. "Pain?"
Robert nodded, biting back the scream building in his throat.
"I'll get the nurse." She groped for the call button, but he grabbed her arm, shaking his head violently, teeth still grinding together. Erin pressed her hand to her mouth as she watched him struggle. "Fuck!" He shouted angrily, collapsing deeper into the pillow as the stinging agony finally ebbed. Erin reached over and wiped the sweat from his brow with her bare hand. "Let me get the nurse," she pleaded weakly. "Let them give you something."
Robert shook his head once again. "No." He said firmly. "I can take it. Reminds me it's still there." "Then tell me what I can do."
Robert moved as far to his left as he could, making a space next to him. He patted it with his right hand. "Come here," he repeated. She looked at him uncertainly. "I'll be a good boy, I promise." Relenting, she kicked off her shoes and very carefully eased herself into the bed next to him. He drew her into the crook of his arm, and she lay her head down on his chest. He tugged absently on her braid. "Much better," he sighed, kissing the top of her head. They lay together in silence until Dr. Malcolm returned. He entered the room with hearty presence, a swagger in his stride and a broad grin curling his mouth. The look of envy that passed over Robert's face was brief, but it was not lost on Erin.
"Don't you two look comfortable?" The surgeon observed.
Erin sat up quickly despite Robert's tightening grasp on her shoulder, but Dr. Malcolm waved her back down. "Please, don't get up on my account." His voice was sincere. "I'm a big believer in the healing powers of human touch." He turned his attention fully to Romano. "Robert, you old son of a bitch! Damn shame that it took this for us to cross paths again."
"Stephen." Robert's voice was not quite as enthusiastic, but Erin could detect genuine respect. "I'm glad it was you and not that old hack Davidson."
"Believe me, so am I." The two men exchanged cursory smiles, then Dr. Malcolm flipped the chart open. "The bad news is your arm was severed approximately four inches below the shoulder by the tail rotor of one of the University of Chicago's medical choppers."
"Stephen, do the words 'no shit' mean anything to you?" Robert asked dryly.
"The good news," Malcolm continued, undaunted, "is that your arm was severed approximately four inches below the shoulder by the tail rotor of one of the University of Chicago's medical choppers."
"Excuse me if I don't laugh at your little irony there." Robert's voice, growing impatient.
Erin rubbed his chest, trying to keep him calm. "What does that mean, Dr. Malcolm?" She asked.
"It means it was a clean slice. No ragged loose ends to muddle through. It was also a brilliant stroke of luck that the accident happened in the presence of other physicians, people educated in exactly what to do, given the circumstances."
"Luck?!" Robert snorted incredulously.
"So vascular integrity was pretty well preserved?" Erin pressed, trying to keep the discussion focused.
"Very well preserved. In fact, I'd say that, save for the scar, you may never know the accident happened in the first place." Erin sighed in relief, but Robert's body in her embrace was still taut as a live wire.
"So I'll operate again?"
Dr. Malcolm's expression faltered a bit. "Well, Robert, you've got some serious rehabilitation ahead of you. This kind of healing process takes a delicate touch and a good deal of time."
"Can the diplomatic bullshit and shoot straight with me Steve," Robert spat. "Will I cut again or not?"
Malcolm leveled his shoulders and spoke simply. "I'd say there's a fifteen percent chance of your regaining occupational function." Erin felt Robert's body go limp, and her heart sank. She looked up into his eyes and found them flat and muddy. "Anything is possible, Robert," the surgeon insisted. "Given time, and knowing your bull-headed nature."
"Are you still talking?" Robert snapped. "Get out."
"A physical therapist will be in shortly."
"Get the fuck out!" Robert roared, nearly knocking Erin from the bed in the process. She looked at Dr. Malcolm helplessly, sending an apology with her eyes. His features warmed, telling her he understood. Then he turned and vanished from the room as quickly as he had come. She turned her face up to Robert's, struggling to find something to say. She watched him closely as he began to shake his head. His brown eyes began to fill with smoldering rage and determination. "He's wrong." He looked down at her, clenching his jaw. "He's wrong. He has to be." His ire began to crumble into naked fear. "It's all I am, all I'm really good at." His eyes were wet with unshed tears. "Don't you understand? I've got to get it back. It's all I have."
His words stung a little, and she took his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Oh, no it isn't. Not anymore. You've got me, and I'm not going anywhere." The tiniest light returned to his eyes, and she pressed forward. "Robert, I don't know the right words to say. I can't say I know what you're going through, because I don't. I can try to imagine, but I'm not even sure if that could come anywhere close. And I don't want to sit her and patronize you, because I know you'd hate that." She swallowed hard and lay her forehead against his. "The only thing I know to say is that I love you. I love you so much, and no matter what happens, I'm going to be there." She repeated herself with feeling. "No matter what happens, I am going to be there."
Robert's expression cleared a bit and he even managed a wry smirk. "See? You did know the right thing to say." He pulled her into his embrace, partially because he needed the comfort of her body, partially because he didn't want her to see the doubt that he couldn't keep out of his eyes.
As the sedatives that kept Robert under during surgery continued to ebb from his system, the flares of pain in his arm became more frequent, as well as more severe. Erin pleaded with him to call the nurse, to take something, but he stubbornly refused each time. Finally, after waking for the third time in the night to his barely controlled groans of agony, she stood up and leaned over him, her face ashen. "Robert, I cannot watch you go through this."
"Then leave!" He shouted. "I have no intentions of lying here like a human paperweight while little Mary Candystriper pumps me full of that shit! No, thank you! You can't take it? Fine! Go! Don't blame you if you do! But quit turning those puppy dog eyes on me and begging me to take a hit! I won't do it! I won't!"
Erin pressed her hand to her mouth as she weathered his outburst, and her shoulders began to shake. Robert was suddenly ashamed of himself. "Oh, Christ, Erin. I'm sorry."
But she was shaking her head, and when she moved her hand, he could see that she was laughing, not crying. "It's good to see the old Robert's still in there." She squeezed his hand. "Will you at least take some ibuprofen?" He relented, nodding, and she let go a shuddering sigh. "I'll be right back." She left the room quietly and headed for the nurse's station. The woman seated at the desk was quite young, and she did not look pleased about being there. Erin leaned heavily on the counter. "Romano in G24 needs six hundred ibuprofen, four hundred acetaminophen."
"Not without a signature from Dr. Malcolm." The girl said snippily.
"Excuse me?"
"Not - without - a signature - from Dr. Malcolm." She repeated impatiently.
Erin planted one hand on her hip. "You've got orders there that say he can have morphine and vicoden, neither of which he's taken, by the way. And you won't give him some Tylenol?"
"Not without - " "
Yeah, I get it." Erin snarled a bit. "You're a sucker for signatures. Here, I'll give you mine."
"You don't have privileges here, Doctor. I cannot lend any weight to your instructions."
Erin clenched her fists in rage. "Now, listen here, you little bitch - "
Suddenly, two gentle hands fell on her shoulders. She turned to see Dr. Galloway standing behind her. "It's okay," he reassured her. "Darcy," he spoke thinly, "why are you giving Dr. Windsor such a difficult time?"
"Why doesn't she talk the one armed wonder into taking the real stuff?"
"Oh, that's it!" Erin lunged as if to hurdle the desk, wanting nothing more than to wrap her hands around the young woman's throat and squeeze. Dr. Galloway's grip on her tightened, and he barked at the nurse. "Get her what she asked for. NOW!" With a sarcastic click of her tongue, the girl flounced out of her seat and headed for the drug locker. Tim pulled Erin to the side, turning her to face him. "I am so sorry about that. Seems young Darcy there would rather collect unemployment that work here, so she's trying to get herself fired. That little scene may actually have done it," he said, his tone a bit impressed.
Erin drew a shuddering breath, the looked up at him gratefully. "You have a knack of appearing just in time to save the day. Thank you." She moved to return to Robert's room, but Galloway caught her sleeve. "You wouldn't want to go grab a cup of coffee to take back in there, would you?" Erin looked at him, a bit confused at first, then mildly embarrassed for him.
"No," she said, as gently as she possibly could. "I want to get back and check on Robert."
"You don't remember me do you?"
She shook her head, brow furrowing. "I'm sorry. Should I?"
The young man stuck his hands in his lab coat sheepishly. "Not really. We only crossed paths once or twice." He smiled a bit. "I was an intern at county two years ago."
"Oh," Erin smiled back, still a bit confused.
"You know, I know he's a great surgeon, but as a person - "
She cut him off with a shake of her head. "Dr. Galloway, this isn't appropriate." She turned to walk away, but he rushed after her.
"He's the reason I transferred here. I couldn't take being his personal whipping boy. And to think that someone like him could get a hold of someone like you - "
Erin whirled on him, trying desperately to keep control.
"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. And you don't know anything about him, either."
"But Erin," he saw her start at his casual use of her name and back- pedaled quickly. "I mean, Dr. Windsor."
"Stop it, Dr. Galloway. You're treading on dangerous ground, tossing around your opinion about a patient like that. Please don't make me have to report you to Dr. Malcolm." She strode quickly away, rushing for the sanctuary of Robert's hospital room. She found him sweating, still struggling to bite back the pain. She wet a washcloth at the sink and returned to his bedside, laying it tenderly across his brow. "I love you," he said, his voice quaking. She leaned over and kissed him warmly.
Her lips were still on his when she heard the door swing open. Dr. Galloway crept in and crossed the room. "Dr. Romano, I must ask you, are you sure you don't want anything stronger?" Robert somehow managed to shake his head. Tim relented, handing a paper cup with four pills in it to Erin. She accepted it and assisted Robert in taking them. When she moved to the sink to fill the water pitcher, Tim stepped up beside her and pressed a syringe into her hand. She glanced down at it, then back up at him. "What is this?"
"It's 20 of Demerol. In case he changes his mind." Erin nodded, taking the needle and lying it on the top shelf above the sink. Then she returned to Robert's side without a word. Tim looked at her regretfully for a moment, then made a hasty exit. "If I didn't know better," Robert grimaced, "I'd say Pee-Wee there has a crush on you."
Erin let her head fall back. "Doesn't everybody?" She joked wearily. She carefully climbed into the bed, and Robert was only too happy to welcome her back.
Dr. Weaver crossed the room to gently stroke the young woman's shoulder. "Hello, Erin." The warmth of her tone and the sympathy in her face made Erin laugh a little. "Somebody's been talking to Dr. Kovac."
Kerry nodded. "I don't think he intended it as gossip. We were all very worried about you - none of us could understand why you reacted so violently to the situation. Luka told us what he knew so we would."
"Who exactly is 'us'?"
"Well, myself, Susan Lewis, Dr. Carter and Abby." Erin's expression registered her surprise, and Kerry hastened to explain further. "We were discussing the quarantine when it came up."
"The ER's still under quarantine?"
"Yes, for the next two weeks. John and Abby, Jing-Mei and Pratt in the ER, and the family of the little boy in respiratory."
Erin could not stifle her laughter. "What a nightmare - the job you just can't leave." She grasped the back of her neck and pulled, trying to ease some of the tension in her muscles. Kerry glanced once again at the empty space in the middle of the room. "So where is Dr. Romano?"
Erin followed her gaze. "He's back in the OR. The surgeon felt there was cause for concern."
"The duskiness in his fingers?" Erin nodded. "Who did they get to give consent?"
Erin waved her hand. "You're looking at her."
Kerry was a bit taken aback. "Are you sure that was the right decision?"
Erin was slightly annoyed. "I can't believe you even have to ask that, Kerry. First of all, I thought the one thing we all understood about Robert was his professional ambition. Of course he would want the most aggressive measures taken. Secondly, if you listened to anything Luka had to say, you should know I would never do anything that wasn't in Robert's best interest."
Dr. Weaver became a little defensive. "I understand that you have the best intentions. I just wondered if you felt the scope of your knowledge was wide enough to make an informed decision."
"Wait a second!" Erin could feel the rage and frustration that had been swirling inside her taking focus. "People with no medical training whatsoever make these kinds of judgement calls on behalf of their loved ones every day! I'm a doctor, and I love him! I'm not sure how much wider my scope could be!"
"I understand that, I just meant."
Erin cut her off with an impatient flick of her wrist. "Kerry, let's get one thing straight, okay? You are not my boss here. You are not Robert's doctor; you're not even his friend! In this room, you are little more than an interested bystander! If you can't handle that and keep your mouth shut about it, then get out! And don't bother coming back!" She turned her back for a moment, trying to compose herself. When she heard Dr. Weaver beginning to move towards the door, she spoke again, gentler this time. "Kerry, wait." She turned to face her once again. "Look, I'm sorry. I never expected to find myself in this kind of situation. I'm pissed off and frustrated, and I don't mean to take it out on you."
"I understand," Kerry spoke softly. "There's no need for apologies." She limped heavily back to Erin's side and put her arm around the young woman's shoulders. "At least you've got these next two weeks to be with him, take care of him, help him figure out where to go from here. And I'll do my best to help out wherever I can."
"Be careful, Kerry. You know how paranoid he can get. Don't make him think you're trying to engage him in a power struggle now that he's got a strike against him." Kerry laughed a little, but Erin took her arm, her expression serious. "I mean it, Kerry. I have a feeling, when he's back on his feet, he's going to be a force to be reckoned with." Dr. Weaver nodded in understanding, and headed for the exit once more. As she pulled the door open, she looked back over her shoulder. "Page me when he's out, okay? I'd like to hear how it all went."
And then she was gone, leaving Erin alone in the silence. She paced the room like a caged animal until, an eternity later, the doors opened once more. Dr. Malcolm entered the room with a nurse, pushing Robert's gurney back into place. He regarded Erin's anxious expression with a wide smile. "Looks good," he affirmed. "Looks very, very good."
Erin sighed in relief. "Thank you so much."
"He'll probably be out another hour or so. I'll be back to check on him later, and explain where we're at."
He exited the room with purpose, leading Erin to believe he had other matters to attend to. It didn't matter much to her. She pulled the lounge chair closer to Robert's bedside and sank into it, reclining it as far as it would go. She spread her lab coat over herself in lieu of a blanket, hugged her arms over her chest, and waited for him to awaken.
Pain.
His shoulder was on fire, his fingers resting on a bed of needles.
He turned his head to the left and swore he could feel his brain sloshing from one side to the other.
Grimace.
His eyes opened slowly. His arm, a field of white plaster, propped at an angle, secured with rods and pins.
Fuck.
His throat grainy, mouth dry, tongue swollen. Water.
He turned his neck again, saw the cup on the rolling table. Snagged the stand with his right hand and pulled it over in front of him. Grasped the cup, lifted it to his lips. Not very cold, but liquid. He drank the cup dry, then simply let his arm fall back to his side. His eyes screwed into focus.
She was asleep in her chair, chest rising and falling with slow, languid breaths. His body flooded with intense relief. He let his gaze rest on her, memorizing every detail of her face, every angle of bone, every curve of flesh. Her eyelashes fluttered a bit and her eyes opened. She yawned, and stretched her arms over her head, arching her back. He felt the slight stirring of activity below his belt line. Oh, you kid, he thought to himself. Her gaze moved to him, and her eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, you!" Her voice was music. "What are you doing?"
"Enjoying the view." His voice was gravelly, and he tried to clear his throat. She jumped out of her chair and rushed to his side. He chuckled. "Take it easy, gorgeous. It's not like I'm going anywhere." She took the cup from his hand and filled it with fresh water. Then she handed it back to him, and he drank once more. Colder, this time. Much better.
"How long have you been up?" She asked, gazing down at him with relief and affection that was almost palpable.
"Long enough to remember that you look like an angel when you sleep." He cocked his head to the side. "Come here." She leaned in obediently and he caught her lips with his. More twitching below the waist. Easy, big fella. A sudden shot of white-hot fire from shoulder to finger. He winced again, his breath hissing from between clenched teeth.
Erin pulled back in alarm. "Pain?"
Robert nodded, biting back the scream building in his throat.
"I'll get the nurse." She groped for the call button, but he grabbed her arm, shaking his head violently, teeth still grinding together. Erin pressed her hand to her mouth as she watched him struggle. "Fuck!" He shouted angrily, collapsing deeper into the pillow as the stinging agony finally ebbed. Erin reached over and wiped the sweat from his brow with her bare hand. "Let me get the nurse," she pleaded weakly. "Let them give you something."
Robert shook his head once again. "No." He said firmly. "I can take it. Reminds me it's still there." "Then tell me what I can do."
Robert moved as far to his left as he could, making a space next to him. He patted it with his right hand. "Come here," he repeated. She looked at him uncertainly. "I'll be a good boy, I promise." Relenting, she kicked off her shoes and very carefully eased herself into the bed next to him. He drew her into the crook of his arm, and she lay her head down on his chest. He tugged absently on her braid. "Much better," he sighed, kissing the top of her head. They lay together in silence until Dr. Malcolm returned. He entered the room with hearty presence, a swagger in his stride and a broad grin curling his mouth. The look of envy that passed over Robert's face was brief, but it was not lost on Erin.
"Don't you two look comfortable?" The surgeon observed.
Erin sat up quickly despite Robert's tightening grasp on her shoulder, but Dr. Malcolm waved her back down. "Please, don't get up on my account." His voice was sincere. "I'm a big believer in the healing powers of human touch." He turned his attention fully to Romano. "Robert, you old son of a bitch! Damn shame that it took this for us to cross paths again."
"Stephen." Robert's voice was not quite as enthusiastic, but Erin could detect genuine respect. "I'm glad it was you and not that old hack Davidson."
"Believe me, so am I." The two men exchanged cursory smiles, then Dr. Malcolm flipped the chart open. "The bad news is your arm was severed approximately four inches below the shoulder by the tail rotor of one of the University of Chicago's medical choppers."
"Stephen, do the words 'no shit' mean anything to you?" Robert asked dryly.
"The good news," Malcolm continued, undaunted, "is that your arm was severed approximately four inches below the shoulder by the tail rotor of one of the University of Chicago's medical choppers."
"Excuse me if I don't laugh at your little irony there." Robert's voice, growing impatient.
Erin rubbed his chest, trying to keep him calm. "What does that mean, Dr. Malcolm?" She asked.
"It means it was a clean slice. No ragged loose ends to muddle through. It was also a brilliant stroke of luck that the accident happened in the presence of other physicians, people educated in exactly what to do, given the circumstances."
"Luck?!" Robert snorted incredulously.
"So vascular integrity was pretty well preserved?" Erin pressed, trying to keep the discussion focused.
"Very well preserved. In fact, I'd say that, save for the scar, you may never know the accident happened in the first place." Erin sighed in relief, but Robert's body in her embrace was still taut as a live wire.
"So I'll operate again?"
Dr. Malcolm's expression faltered a bit. "Well, Robert, you've got some serious rehabilitation ahead of you. This kind of healing process takes a delicate touch and a good deal of time."
"Can the diplomatic bullshit and shoot straight with me Steve," Robert spat. "Will I cut again or not?"
Malcolm leveled his shoulders and spoke simply. "I'd say there's a fifteen percent chance of your regaining occupational function." Erin felt Robert's body go limp, and her heart sank. She looked up into his eyes and found them flat and muddy. "Anything is possible, Robert," the surgeon insisted. "Given time, and knowing your bull-headed nature."
"Are you still talking?" Robert snapped. "Get out."
"A physical therapist will be in shortly."
"Get the fuck out!" Robert roared, nearly knocking Erin from the bed in the process. She looked at Dr. Malcolm helplessly, sending an apology with her eyes. His features warmed, telling her he understood. Then he turned and vanished from the room as quickly as he had come. She turned her face up to Robert's, struggling to find something to say. She watched him closely as he began to shake his head. His brown eyes began to fill with smoldering rage and determination. "He's wrong." He looked down at her, clenching his jaw. "He's wrong. He has to be." His ire began to crumble into naked fear. "It's all I am, all I'm really good at." His eyes were wet with unshed tears. "Don't you understand? I've got to get it back. It's all I have."
His words stung a little, and she took his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Oh, no it isn't. Not anymore. You've got me, and I'm not going anywhere." The tiniest light returned to his eyes, and she pressed forward. "Robert, I don't know the right words to say. I can't say I know what you're going through, because I don't. I can try to imagine, but I'm not even sure if that could come anywhere close. And I don't want to sit her and patronize you, because I know you'd hate that." She swallowed hard and lay her forehead against his. "The only thing I know to say is that I love you. I love you so much, and no matter what happens, I'm going to be there." She repeated herself with feeling. "No matter what happens, I am going to be there."
Robert's expression cleared a bit and he even managed a wry smirk. "See? You did know the right thing to say." He pulled her into his embrace, partially because he needed the comfort of her body, partially because he didn't want her to see the doubt that he couldn't keep out of his eyes.
As the sedatives that kept Robert under during surgery continued to ebb from his system, the flares of pain in his arm became more frequent, as well as more severe. Erin pleaded with him to call the nurse, to take something, but he stubbornly refused each time. Finally, after waking for the third time in the night to his barely controlled groans of agony, she stood up and leaned over him, her face ashen. "Robert, I cannot watch you go through this."
"Then leave!" He shouted. "I have no intentions of lying here like a human paperweight while little Mary Candystriper pumps me full of that shit! No, thank you! You can't take it? Fine! Go! Don't blame you if you do! But quit turning those puppy dog eyes on me and begging me to take a hit! I won't do it! I won't!"
Erin pressed her hand to her mouth as she weathered his outburst, and her shoulders began to shake. Robert was suddenly ashamed of himself. "Oh, Christ, Erin. I'm sorry."
But she was shaking her head, and when she moved her hand, he could see that she was laughing, not crying. "It's good to see the old Robert's still in there." She squeezed his hand. "Will you at least take some ibuprofen?" He relented, nodding, and she let go a shuddering sigh. "I'll be right back." She left the room quietly and headed for the nurse's station. The woman seated at the desk was quite young, and she did not look pleased about being there. Erin leaned heavily on the counter. "Romano in G24 needs six hundred ibuprofen, four hundred acetaminophen."
"Not without a signature from Dr. Malcolm." The girl said snippily.
"Excuse me?"
"Not - without - a signature - from Dr. Malcolm." She repeated impatiently.
Erin planted one hand on her hip. "You've got orders there that say he can have morphine and vicoden, neither of which he's taken, by the way. And you won't give him some Tylenol?"
"Not without - " "
Yeah, I get it." Erin snarled a bit. "You're a sucker for signatures. Here, I'll give you mine."
"You don't have privileges here, Doctor. I cannot lend any weight to your instructions."
Erin clenched her fists in rage. "Now, listen here, you little bitch - "
Suddenly, two gentle hands fell on her shoulders. She turned to see Dr. Galloway standing behind her. "It's okay," he reassured her. "Darcy," he spoke thinly, "why are you giving Dr. Windsor such a difficult time?"
"Why doesn't she talk the one armed wonder into taking the real stuff?"
"Oh, that's it!" Erin lunged as if to hurdle the desk, wanting nothing more than to wrap her hands around the young woman's throat and squeeze. Dr. Galloway's grip on her tightened, and he barked at the nurse. "Get her what she asked for. NOW!" With a sarcastic click of her tongue, the girl flounced out of her seat and headed for the drug locker. Tim pulled Erin to the side, turning her to face him. "I am so sorry about that. Seems young Darcy there would rather collect unemployment that work here, so she's trying to get herself fired. That little scene may actually have done it," he said, his tone a bit impressed.
Erin drew a shuddering breath, the looked up at him gratefully. "You have a knack of appearing just in time to save the day. Thank you." She moved to return to Robert's room, but Galloway caught her sleeve. "You wouldn't want to go grab a cup of coffee to take back in there, would you?" Erin looked at him, a bit confused at first, then mildly embarrassed for him.
"No," she said, as gently as she possibly could. "I want to get back and check on Robert."
"You don't remember me do you?"
She shook her head, brow furrowing. "I'm sorry. Should I?"
The young man stuck his hands in his lab coat sheepishly. "Not really. We only crossed paths once or twice." He smiled a bit. "I was an intern at county two years ago."
"Oh," Erin smiled back, still a bit confused.
"You know, I know he's a great surgeon, but as a person - "
She cut him off with a shake of her head. "Dr. Galloway, this isn't appropriate." She turned to walk away, but he rushed after her.
"He's the reason I transferred here. I couldn't take being his personal whipping boy. And to think that someone like him could get a hold of someone like you - "
Erin whirled on him, trying desperately to keep control.
"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. And you don't know anything about him, either."
"But Erin," he saw her start at his casual use of her name and back- pedaled quickly. "I mean, Dr. Windsor."
"Stop it, Dr. Galloway. You're treading on dangerous ground, tossing around your opinion about a patient like that. Please don't make me have to report you to Dr. Malcolm." She strode quickly away, rushing for the sanctuary of Robert's hospital room. She found him sweating, still struggling to bite back the pain. She wet a washcloth at the sink and returned to his bedside, laying it tenderly across his brow. "I love you," he said, his voice quaking. She leaned over and kissed him warmly.
Her lips were still on his when she heard the door swing open. Dr. Galloway crept in and crossed the room. "Dr. Romano, I must ask you, are you sure you don't want anything stronger?" Robert somehow managed to shake his head. Tim relented, handing a paper cup with four pills in it to Erin. She accepted it and assisted Robert in taking them. When she moved to the sink to fill the water pitcher, Tim stepped up beside her and pressed a syringe into her hand. She glanced down at it, then back up at him. "What is this?"
"It's 20 of Demerol. In case he changes his mind." Erin nodded, taking the needle and lying it on the top shelf above the sink. Then she returned to Robert's side without a word. Tim looked at her regretfully for a moment, then made a hasty exit. "If I didn't know better," Robert grimaced, "I'd say Pee-Wee there has a crush on you."
Erin let her head fall back. "Doesn't everybody?" She joked wearily. She carefully climbed into the bed, and Robert was only too happy to welcome her back.