"Was it good?"
Glancing over her shoulder, Elena looks up as Caroline enters her office, hiding a cheeky grin behind her steaming cup of coffee.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Elena answers curtly while sipping some much-needed caffeine from her own mug.
"That means it was good," Caroline replies smugly, moving across the room to take a seat and eyeing Elena bemusedly. "What has you so out of sorts this morning?"
Stepping back from the window, Elena collapses into her seat with a defeated sigh, setting her mug on the desktop. "I don't know how to do this, Caroline."
"What do you mean?"
"He lives in Atlanta, he's only here for a short time. I should have my head examined," Elena mumbles, resting her chin on her palms.
Spluttering with shock, coffee spews from Caroline's lips, flying across the desk and dripping down her chin, staining papers and her sweater. "Shit, I'm sorry for laughing, Elena," she wheezes between fits of giggles, grabbing handfuls of tissues from the box on the desk to wipe up the mess.
"Don't be sorry," Elena chuckles as she stands up to help with the clean-up effort. "I'm uptight, all because of a guy."
"So, it was really good then," Caroline grins.
"Yeah," Elena reluctantly admits, tossing a coffee-soaked pile of tissues into the wastebasket before walking back to the window, staring blindly as her mind drifts back to last night and how mind-blowingly good it was.
Looking over at her smirking best friend, Elena lets her arms flop to her side as she looks at Caroline with an exaggerated pout. "Help a friend out, would ya?"
Rolling her eyes teasingly, Caroline finishes cleaning herself off before joining Elena in front of the closet and slinging an arm over her shoulders. "What's wrong with having a little fun while he's here?"
"I guess there's nothing wrong with that but what if?"
"You only just met him. And it'll do you good to let loose a little bit."
Elena glares at her with narrowed eyes. "Seriously?"
Caroline's eyes sparkle with a touch of amusement. "You really like him, don't you?"
"More than I should," Elena admits, looking down and fiddling with the buttons of her blouse, trying to refasten them one notch higher as the confusing thoughts surface once more.
"Why do you say that?" Caroline asks softly, batting Elena's hands away from the buttons.
"As I was saying, he's only here for a few weeks," Elena answers, diverting her gaze and stepping back from the window. Sinking back down in her chair, she retrieves her mug and takes a long swallow of lukewarm coffee before continuing. "Then he goes home to Atlanta and I stay here in Gallup. It can't go anywhere in the long run."
"Why not?" Caroline says, setting down across the desk from her. "Plenty of people make long-distance relationships work."
"And I'm not one of them," Elena replies, side-eying her friend as she uses her free hand to close the button she'd been after. "And you had a bird's eye view of that disaster."
"Kol was a lifetime ago, Elena."
Blinking back unexpected tears, Elena carefully dabs at the corners of her eyes, not wanting to ruin her makeup. "Still feels like it was yesterday sometimes."
"You need to let that go. Quit giving him power! He took the job in Europe and found someone else. Frankly, you should feel relieved and, yes, lucky that it happened before the wedding." Caroline grabs both of her hands and forces her to meet her blue eyes.
"Elena, I know things are tough sometimes with your relationship history, and it's perfectly fine if you don't want anything serious to come out of this thing with Damon, but why not have a little fun these next few weeks?"
"Do you really think there's going to be time for that?" Elena asked, raising a dubious eyebrow.
Rolling her eyes, Caroline stands and walks to the door, turning around on the threshold with a mischievous smirk. "First of all, you've already had a little fun. I know it's going to be mostly work and very little play, but he's not a half-bad playmate."
"Caroline!" Elena gasps, standing and chucking a wadded-up piece of paper in her direction. and watches her laughing best friend disappear as she snaps the office door closed.
Maybe Caroline's right? Her body obviously wants Damon, and as long as her mind is strong enough to keep her heart out of it and stay focused on this case then maybe she can have a little fun on the side too...
Elena brings her hands up to her shirt and undoes the button she'd just closed. Taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly, Elena takes a quick glance in the mirror before stepping out of her office to meet Damon and Dr. Cruz.
"Reyna, it's good to see you," Elena greets the young woman with a hug. "How's the family?"
"Ryan turned 3 last week. It's surreal."
"Seems like yesterday we had your baby shower," Elena states, shaking her head.
"I know."
Elena looks up when she hears the conference room door open. "Damon, I'd like you to meet Dr. Reyna Cruz."
"Dr. Damon Salvatore, I work with the CDC's Epidemiology Intelligence Service," Damon introduces himself as he shakes her hand.
"Nice to meet you," Reyna returns the greeting as someone from nutrition services brings in a tray of coffee and muffins.
"Thank you, Mrs. Flowers." Elena smiles at her as she takes the tray.
"Have a good day, Dr. Gilbert," the older woman states as she makes her retreat.
"You too," Elena calls back and sets the tray on the table.
"Have a seat." Elena gestures for Damon and Reyna to sit down. "Reyna, why don't you tell us what you've learned."
"My grandfather is a very well-known medicine man. I work with Indian Health Services. We're trying to straddle the scientific world or epidemic control along with the spiritual traditions of my people. They're frightened."
"I understand that but I had no idea that Medicine men were still so revered," Damon replies and takes a swallow of coffee.
"Reyna, I have spoken to one or two of the Medicine men when they were here with families. I get the sense that the men know more than they're saying...did you also get that impression?"
"Yes, I felt the same. I believe they wanted me to ask in the traditional way. That would normally require sitting for several days in a ceremony but we don't have several days, people are dying. "My grandfather realized this and revealed some things to me."
"Why would they keep things quiet?" Damon looks perplexed.
"The Navajo medicine man- Hatalii- has been dominant in the Navajo culture ever since its inception. Holding great respect among the Navajo people, he performs the main healing ceremonies on which my people rely at times of sickness. Also, with extensive knowledge of the Navajo heritage and culture, he acts as a bridge to the past. A bridge to the people's history, legends, and myths that slowly fade away as the old ones die," Reyna pauses to take a bite of her blueberry muffin.
"The great significance of Hatalii is not because of his healing practice or knowledge about herbal medicine, but because he teaches people the principles of goodness and prosperity, preserving the Navajo's traditions and beliefs.
Whenever the Medicine man is called to perform a "sing", or a healing ceremony, along with healing the sick member, he shares the story of the people and how they emerged from the first world into the fourth world. During this time, he usually answers questions about life and anything related to man's existence on earth. He tells the young and reminds the old about the supernatural forces necessary for universal harmony and balance. It's believed that one in every eight Navajo men is a Hatalii. To become one, training as an apprentice to the old medicine man is the first step. The training includes years and hours of learning ceremonial procedures, assembling medicine bundles, and assisting the teacher until an apprentice is ready to conduct independent practices." Reyna looks at Damon.
"Working here, I have done some research on my own, and Reyna, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong," Elena starts. "The medicine man has to learn songs and prayers crucial to ceremonies and he must gain knowledge in different types of healing herbs. Most important, he must have faith in the higher powers and the Great Spirit, which is of utmost significance in Navajo culture. Once he is prepared, he renders his healing services. Today, the medicine man is paid with money for his services. Earlier, when money wasn't available, he used to be paid with livestock, turquoise, and rugs. The bottom line is that just like other Native American tribes, the Navajo tribe has been relying on spiritual and religious healing as depicted in their art and craft."
"Elena is correct."
"Alright, so what do they know about this virus?"
"Something like this current outbreak has happened before in 1918 and 1933. In those years, as in this year, unpredictable weather disrupted the harmony of the world. Unusually harsh winters, followed by excessive spring rain happened then just like it did this year. Pinon trees produced an unusually bountiful crop of pine nuts. Mice, who feast on pine nuts, multiplied. Many young Navajo died."
"My God," Elena tells herself, with a shock of recognition.
"It sounds like the same thing we're talking about," Damon concurs, taking a deep breath.
"Yes." Reyna nods. "In essence, the medicine men were describing the mouse as a carrier of the mysterious illness. The mouse has always been an important creature to the Navajo. It figures in the creation story, in which the revered rodent spreads the seeds of life throughout the world."
"And?" Elena prods her.
"The mouse is also dreaded as a killer of young Navajos and as a carrier of disease. According to legend, when a mouse enters a Navajo dwelling, called a hogan, and sees food lying about, he gets angry at the waste or the sloppiness. As punishment, he chooses the "strongest and finest" young Navajos to die."
"Woah, Reyna," Elena gasps and makes eye contact with Damon.
"Is there more?" Damon asks, nodding at Elena.
"There are traditions that are still common among my people. For instance, when a mouse runs over clothing, that clothing is burned. Almost every Navajo family has that tradition. Missionaries used to ridicule the Navajo for burning clothing," Reyna adds as she empties her coffee cup.
"It feels so surreal...Did your grandfather mention anything else?" Elena sucks in a deep pull of air.
"He said this "special warning" about the mouse extends to no other animal."
"We need to scour medical records." Elena looks at Damon.
"Yes, and if there are any lab specimens from the autopsies, we need to prepare them and ship them back to the CDC for testing. We have already interviewed some families."
"I should go," Reyna announces as she stands and throws her bag over her shoulder.
"Reyna, I don't know how to thank you."
"I'm just hoping it helps."
"It has, it really has," Elena assures her. "I'll walk you out," she adds and follows Reyna out of the conference room.
"Wait for me," Damon calls as he catches up with them.
"Dr. Cruz, could you accompany me to talk to some of these families?" Damon asks Reyna. "They might be more open if you are there?"
"Yes, of course, anything I can do to help," she agrees.
"Do you have a number I can reach you? Or we could go now if it's convenient?" Damon persists.
"I can help?" Elena offers.
Damon strokes his stubble as he locks eyes with hers. "Look, Elena, I appreciate the offer but this is my business and Dr. Cruz is infinitely more qualified to help me interview these families."
Anger throbs in Elena like a heartbeat but she manages to bite it back. "I need to run, I have another meeting to attend. Thank you again, Reyna." She nods and flounces into the building without glancing back.
After spending the next few hours interviewing three victims' family members with Reyna, Damon sets up a zoom meeting in one of the hospital's conference rooms.
Damon reveals what he learned from the interviews. They spend several hours bandying about theories and disease possibilities.
Having had an extremely productive day, a yawn escapes Damon's mouth before he empties his umpteenth cup of coffee.
"Let's resume this tomorrow," Damon looks at Enzo, Anna, and the people participating remotely.
"Yeah, I'm hungry," Enzo states and empties his coffee cup. Rather than fly back to Atlanta, he opted to stay on location to help Damon, letting their colleague Atticus Shane take the specimens back to the CDC lab instead.
"8 am tomorrow morning," Damon states as he stands up. "That's 10 am in Atlanta," he adds and clicks off the video screen.
After parting with Enzo, Damon goes in search of Elena. He stops at her office, finding it empty. Although tired himself, he decides to wait for a little while...
Checking his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, Damon is becoming increasingly concerned over Elena's whereabouts.
Although he overlooked calling her, he expected she'd still be in her office. Something is off, and a sinking feeling in his gut begins to grow even heavier.
After he'd returned from his outing with Reyna, he'd texted her with an offer to bring her dinner. When she didn't respond, he'd popped his head into her office before starting his zoom meeting to see if she wanted to participate.
According to Caroline, Elena's been tied up all day in the ED among other things.
Damon had been occupied the rest of the afternoon, but it didn't stop him from checking his phone from time to time for a response from Elena. Thinking that maybe she's just swamped, he leaves the hospital to go to a local pub, attempting to drown out the fact that he misses a woman he'd known for less than a week with bourbon.
He's on his third, maybe fourth, glass when a reply text from her had finally comes through around eight.
"We lost another patient today. Her family will be in my office at 11."
Damon doesn't stop to think – just presses the Call button immediately – because all his bourbon-soaked heart wants is to hear her voice. His call goes straight to her voicemail.
Frustrated, he leaves a brief message, letting her know that he'll be there for the call in the morning.
Eleven o'clock comes and goes with still no sign of Elena. What the fuck is going on? Getting no response to his follow-up texts, Damon breathes in deep to tamp down his anger before returning to his colleagues to resume the meeting on their findings.
When they break for lunch, Damon again stands behind his desk and took a deep calming breath before opening her door and peering into the office. Caroline's nowhere to be found either.
Damon is a little peeved that Elena hasn't kept him in the loop but if there's been an emergency, he can't blame her for forgetting a text. It's the only explanation that makes sense, and his worry ratchets up another notch upon reaching that conclusion.
He has to go to finish up with his colleagues after which he'll try to make sure she's all right. Guzzling his coffee as he walks back to the meeting, he shoots off one more text before pocketing his phone and rejoining his group.
In Atlanta, Dr. Sheila Bennett, chief of the CDC's special pathogens research branch, presides over a warren of moon suits, airlocks, and safety showers, where the world's most lethal germs are stored and studied.
"I agree, Damon, that you're on target suspecting an unknown hemorrhagic fever virus as the source of the outbreak," Sheila states as she looks at the information Damon and his crew have presented.
"Thanks, Sheila. My two best picks are hantavirus and arenavirus, both are rodent-borne agents. The victims are rural people you might expect to have had exposure to rodents," Damon states. "Another clue is the fact that many of the affected patients had a very high white blood cell count, which is more likely linked to the hantavirus infection than any virus I know of." Damon twists the cap off his water bottle and takes a long swallow.
"Alright, Damon. I think you might be onto something. On my end, we'll pull vials of 25 disease-causing organisms out of laboratory freezers. We'll expose them to antibodies taken from nine patients with the illness."
"Give me a call day or night if you find anything."
"Will do, Damon. Great work," Sheila adds as she clicks off the video signal.
"I'm going to try to find Dr. Gilbert and update her," Damon tells Enzo.
"And that's all?" Enzo quips.
"Maybe not..."
"She's hot. You're not involved with anyone, live a little."
Damon throws his messenger bag over his shoulder and walks out. "Later, Enzo," he calls out as he exits the conference room.
There are eight ruby chips around the circumference of Elena's ring. She has spent years tracing them with her thumb, twisting the band around the skin beneath her knuckle, absently ticking them off in her mind.
"I'm so sorry, Elena, I know you and Aaron Whitmore were friends," one of the nurses says to her as she pulls the drape over the body.
Now, as she gazes at the rubies sitting atop the polished wood of her desk, glittering like a halo in the beam of afternoon sunlight streaming through the window. She tries not to believe that these gems represent another patient she's lost and this one is a bitter pill. She's known Aaron nearly her entire life, he gave her the birthstone ring as a high school graduation gift.
So many times, she would simply stare as the sunlight reflected off the gems, creating a symphony of light.
Elena remembers meeting Aaron in second grade, huddling together on cold days during recess, sharing lunch, and doing homework. She remembers the last time she talked to him. He called but she was so busy with all of this madness that she didn't really have time to chat.
At the time, Elena couldn't have known that it would be the last time, and as a result, she didn't think to commit it to memory. The last moment of the ordinary before the world lurched violently and capsized, bringing death with it.
She didn't get to say goodbye.
Elena forcibly pulls herself from her reminiscing and walks over to the window. The sky is angry like a bruise and pregnant with foreboding. Storm clouds trip over each other, and while she always thought rain-soaked funerals were movie plot devices, she finds that the weather is a relief. The first few droplets splatter on the pavement, and Elena is grateful for something to focus on as more drops fall along with the tears running down her cheeks.
Leaving the window, Elena sits down at her desk and pulls open the bottom drawer. She pulls out her journal, having abandoned it when the virus took complete control of everyone's life. She finds a letter from him. The one he wrote before he deployed overseas. He wanted to say goodbye in case he didn't come home...
"Elena," Caroline states as she closes the distance between them and pulls her best friend into her arms. "I'm so sorry about Aaron."
"I haven't let it in before, not like this. It's not that I don't feel but I need to be able to do my job but this, this hurts," Elena croaks as she reaches for a tissue to wipe her eyes.
"I know there's nothing I can say to make this easier. Do you want me to stay? I can take you home, we can talk, drink, celebrate his life."
"We can do that but not today, I just don't have it in me." Elena sucks in a breath to try to get control of her emotions.
"I understand. I'm only a phone call away. I don't care what time it is. If you need me, call."
"I will." Elena nods and hugs Caroline.
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye," Elena replies softly.
Damon's plan, however, is blown to smithereens when he crosses the threshold of his temporary office and sees a lone file on his desktop. Most infuriating is a post-it note in the upper right corner. "Notes from the patient meeting."
He startles at the sound of Anna's strained voice coming from behind him. "I saw Elena go into her office a little while ago. She seemed upset."
"Thanks," he grits out between clenched teeth, blowing past his colleague and storming down the hallway to Elena's office. Slamming the door behind him, he marches over to her desk and throws the file down in the middle of it.
"What the hell is this?" he growls, bracing his arms against the edge of the desk and leaning toward her, demanding that she meet his gaze.
"What does it look like?" she replies calmly, looking up at him as she folded her arms on the desk and tilts forward, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage beneath her lower than usual neckline. His traitorous eyes stray for a moment before coming back to meet her defiant brown ones.
Stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest, Damon walks around the desk, boxing her in. "What is with you?"
"I don't know what you mean," Elena shrugs, swiveling in her chair to turn her back to him.
Grabbing the back of the chair, he spins her around to face him again. "Don't play dumb with me, Elena. You told me the patient meeting was at eleven."
"I said the call was at eleven," she answers, leaning back in her chair and crossing one leg over the other, placing her hands together on her knees.
"And I was here at eleven, ten minutes to actually. Where were you?" Damon bites back.
Reeling from her friend's untimely death, Elena hisses, "I was in the ICU at 11 am."
"You need to learn how to prioritize!"
Elena feels a jolt as anger sears through every nerve, artery, and vein. "Mrs. Parker canceled the meeting because she had many family members arrive for the death ceremony. I was able to ask her a few questions and take notes which I left for you," she grits out.
"Seriously?!" he shouts, throwing his hands in the air. "You couldn't have sent someone for me?"
"You made me look like a fool," Elena fumes, shooting up from her chair to stand nose to nose with him, an angry finger poking him in the chest.
"Elena!" he gasps, shocked beyond belief by what she just said. He's at a complete and utter loss as to what might have caused this radical reversal in her behavior.
Thirty-six hours ago, they had been getting to know each other in a carnal way and now she's looking at him with cold eyes. Lifting an arm, he wraps his hand around the one of hers that's still poking him in the chest, holding it tight when she tries to jerk away.
"What the hell happened? I don't understand, Elena."
The last thing Damon expects is the tears that well up in her eyes. She tries to turn her head away, but he grabs her chin between his thumb and forefinger, keeping their gazes locked. "Tell me what I did," he says softly, letting go of her chin to cup her cheek, brushing away her tear.
"You conceited ape, that's rich coming from you," she scoffs, her voice thick with tears.
This time when she pulls away Damon lets her go, furrowing his brow and staring at her back as she sniffles and wipes away her tears. He's so very confused. It's obvious that he's missing something, and for the life of him, he has no clue what it is.
Seconds later, a Code Blue is called to the Emergency room.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go," Elena skirts around Damon to leave.
Damon stares after her in disbelief as she slips on her lab coat and hurries away. He is angry, confused, hurt, and most of all, disappointed. Their working relationship is productive and he thought perhaps there might be something to be had outside of all this.
Sighing, Damon rakes his hand through his hair and leaves her office with a hard slam of her door.
Somehow, between the other night and now, he'd fucked up, or so she said. But a part of him also wonders if it's not just an excuse for her to put distance between them...
Thank you all, so, so much.
Chapter title: 'Sky High' by Jigsaw.
Take care and have a beautiful day...
