Recover. Breathe. In. Out. Eyes track in.
Good save.
Kerry adjusted her focus, moving it outward from within. Lynn--the woman across from her, bright eyes on hers--Lynn--the patient with the dislocated shoulder--Lynn, a series of mental data blips--was saying something, something Kerry almost didn't hear.
"... Such good care from you guys," Lynn was saying, digging into a large salad slathered with what smelled like ranch dressing. Kerry stared at the salad, not remember it's arrival.
"Are you feeling all right, Dr. Weaver?"
Kerry closed her eyes a moment, letting the darkness wash over her.
"I'm fine," she replied, "just... had a long night."
The child chirped in then, from around a square of grilled cheese.
"But it's morning now," he said.
"I work from night until morning," Kerry explained, watching the kid bite into the sandwich, gumming it, really, for he was missing his two front teeth, "I'm just going home now."
The kids eyes were round and wide.
"Wow," he said, "you work late!"
Kerry and Lynn exchanged a smile over his head. It was a nice smile, a nice little moment, one that Kerry noted only after it had passed. It was that easy, a nice little pat on the heart.
"Want some?" Lynn offered, pushing the salad towards her.
"This early?" Kerry laughed.
Lynn shrugged.
"Never too early for greens, " she said, winking, "doctor."
******
Takata put a hand to his head, feeling the stiffness there.
"Spikey," he said to no one. He pulled a strand, poking the tip with his finger.
He liked it, making a mental note to tell Susan when she came in.
Sinking into the couch, he let himself relax, breathing into the soreness in his back.
The lounge door flapped open, swinging back against the air as it closed. Takata, through closed eyes, knew immediately who it was from the silence--Gallant. He was the only one who didn't stomp, didn't flap, didn't barge. He was polite, polite on the verge of cautious, his shoes making light padding noises on the linolium floor.
Gallant sat down in an armchair, sighing loudly than he meant to. Takata opened one black eye.
"Trouble, there?" he asked, not moving his head.
Gallant jumped.
"Sorry," he said, righting himself, "did I wake you?"
Takata smiled slowly.
"I wasn't asleep."
Gallant nodded sheepishly at him, then returned to brooding, chin in hands.
"Why are you so down in the dumps?" Takata asked, leaning forward.
He liked the young man, admired his prowess and control over his craft. It took a lot to work the ER, took a lot out of a shy, dedicated and honest person, precisely the kind of person Gallant was. Diplomatic, calculated and even-tempered. He reminded Takata of Mark Green, even more so than Carter, in his near flawless ability to stay abreast of a sticky situation. Always modest, always ducking his head, always out of the way.
Gallant looked at Takata suspiciously, searching his face. When he felt it was safe, he opened his mouth.
"I... Ahh..."
"Scouts honor," Takata broke in, holding up his hand.
"What?"
"Scouts honor. I won't tell."
This got him a smile.
"That's better," Takata said, "now what's the problem. Pretend I'm... Pretend I'm your mother."
Another smile.
"I... Man, I sound so... Trivial," fumed Gallant, "I... I feel... Like... Like my head is swimming with... with... Her."
"Her?"
"Yeah."
Gallant looked as though he had swallowed something sour, face contorted in discomfort.
"Then why all the fuss?"
"I don't know... She's... She's older, and taken and..."
Takata began to smile.
"She--she--she... Works here," Gallant finally admitted, "she... Um... She works, like, here, here in the ER..."
"Are you going to tell me who she is?" Takata asked, dropping his voice to a whisper to match Gallants.
Gallant's eyes searched the room.
"Nobody else is in here," whispered Takata.
"Ok," Gallant said, "okay, um... It's... It's... It's..."
And together, they both said
"ABBY."
Good save.
Kerry adjusted her focus, moving it outward from within. Lynn--the woman across from her, bright eyes on hers--Lynn--the patient with the dislocated shoulder--Lynn, a series of mental data blips--was saying something, something Kerry almost didn't hear.
"... Such good care from you guys," Lynn was saying, digging into a large salad slathered with what smelled like ranch dressing. Kerry stared at the salad, not remember it's arrival.
"Are you feeling all right, Dr. Weaver?"
Kerry closed her eyes a moment, letting the darkness wash over her.
"I'm fine," she replied, "just... had a long night."
The child chirped in then, from around a square of grilled cheese.
"But it's morning now," he said.
"I work from night until morning," Kerry explained, watching the kid bite into the sandwich, gumming it, really, for he was missing his two front teeth, "I'm just going home now."
The kids eyes were round and wide.
"Wow," he said, "you work late!"
Kerry and Lynn exchanged a smile over his head. It was a nice smile, a nice little moment, one that Kerry noted only after it had passed. It was that easy, a nice little pat on the heart.
"Want some?" Lynn offered, pushing the salad towards her.
"This early?" Kerry laughed.
Lynn shrugged.
"Never too early for greens, " she said, winking, "doctor."
******
Takata put a hand to his head, feeling the stiffness there.
"Spikey," he said to no one. He pulled a strand, poking the tip with his finger.
He liked it, making a mental note to tell Susan when she came in.
Sinking into the couch, he let himself relax, breathing into the soreness in his back.
The lounge door flapped open, swinging back against the air as it closed. Takata, through closed eyes, knew immediately who it was from the silence--Gallant. He was the only one who didn't stomp, didn't flap, didn't barge. He was polite, polite on the verge of cautious, his shoes making light padding noises on the linolium floor.
Gallant sat down in an armchair, sighing loudly than he meant to. Takata opened one black eye.
"Trouble, there?" he asked, not moving his head.
Gallant jumped.
"Sorry," he said, righting himself, "did I wake you?"
Takata smiled slowly.
"I wasn't asleep."
Gallant nodded sheepishly at him, then returned to brooding, chin in hands.
"Why are you so down in the dumps?" Takata asked, leaning forward.
He liked the young man, admired his prowess and control over his craft. It took a lot to work the ER, took a lot out of a shy, dedicated and honest person, precisely the kind of person Gallant was. Diplomatic, calculated and even-tempered. He reminded Takata of Mark Green, even more so than Carter, in his near flawless ability to stay abreast of a sticky situation. Always modest, always ducking his head, always out of the way.
Gallant looked at Takata suspiciously, searching his face. When he felt it was safe, he opened his mouth.
"I... Ahh..."
"Scouts honor," Takata broke in, holding up his hand.
"What?"
"Scouts honor. I won't tell."
This got him a smile.
"That's better," Takata said, "now what's the problem. Pretend I'm... Pretend I'm your mother."
Another smile.
"I... Man, I sound so... Trivial," fumed Gallant, "I... I feel... Like... Like my head is swimming with... with... Her."
"Her?"
"Yeah."
Gallant looked as though he had swallowed something sour, face contorted in discomfort.
"Then why all the fuss?"
"I don't know... She's... She's older, and taken and..."
Takata began to smile.
"She--she--she... Works here," Gallant finally admitted, "she... Um... She works, like, here, here in the ER..."
"Are you going to tell me who she is?" Takata asked, dropping his voice to a whisper to match Gallants.
Gallant's eyes searched the room.
"Nobody else is in here," whispered Takata.
"Ok," Gallant said, "okay, um... It's... It's... It's..."
And together, they both said
"ABBY."