Depression

The events in the On-Call Room feel like an eternity ago. After that day, I sunk further into myself. I was always a happy person, but I realized the ways of the world and suddenly, no longer thought well of it. I gravitated towards Elizabeth in almost all things. She helped me through my emotional turmoil and became my confidante when I found out I was pregnant.

Even more so when I lost it.

She and Darcy became role models for me. For nearly a year, she let me live in her house. I paid rent of course, but she knew that I was uncomfortable in my apartment complex. Instead of venturing out into a sketchy-ish part of town, she let me live with her. She and Darcy both acted as older siblings to me, for I have none. Eventually, I acted as Lizzy's Maid of Honor in their wedding; that day brought so much joy.

Today was not that day.

With my hands tied behind my back, one sentiment remained clear: I would do everything I could for her. Elizabeth had to survive. She had a loving husband whose very heart would shatter should anything happen to her. He saves thousands of hearts a year and would not be able to do so with a broken one.

We passed the Nursing Station. I followed a pool of blood with my eyes and saw the lifeless body of Nurse Anya Dobroe. Tears pooled in my eyes as I looked away from the woman; memories of her kindness flash before me.

A chill filled the air.

"If you try any funny business, your fate will be the same as hers." He growled.

As Wickham lead me down the hallway, I noticed my surroundings. There was not much I could use to defend myself; my hands were tied behind my back. His handgun was pressing into my back. With every move, I could feel the barrel digging into my very soul. I had little hope for survival.

I heard footsteps climbing the stairs. They sounded as though they were trying to be as quiet as possible, rather unsuccessfully. I stepped louder to mask their noise.

"QUIET!" Wickham shrieked into my right ear; I could feel the spit that spewed from his vile mouth as it hit my inner ear. I internally gagged.

We moved our way to the surgical floor. Wickham read the O.R. board and placed the gun to my temple as we reached O.R. 3. The door was locked. Using the grip of the handgun, he smashed the glass. While Wickham fiddled with the lock, I grabbed a piece of glass that had cascaded to the floor and began cutting the gauze which was wrapped around my hands. Eventually, the door clicked, and we entered the Operating Room. Nurses, surgical techs, the Anesthesiologist, as well as surgical interns and residents all huddled together on the floor. Dr. Darcy it seemed, had just finished up on the patient.

"Hello, Darcy," Wickham said through gritted teeth.

"Wickham, you don't have to do this." Dr. Darcy said as he backed away from the patient. Never losing eye contact with the shooter, Darcy assessed the situation. There was not much he could do except stall until the S.W.A.T. Team arrived.

"Oh yes, I do. You ruined me. My one chance for success in life and you ruined it. First with that little morsel, oh what was her name? Georgia Anderson?"

Dr. Darcy could not contain the fury from appearing on his face. I prayed, he could control his anger, for both our lives and the lives of the dozen people in the room hung in the balance.

"That was her name, I might not have gotten all I wanted from her, but Dr. Jenkins here was more than willing to give me what I wanted." He said using his free hand to stroke my face. I could feel myself getting hot.

"I would disagree with the notion that she was willing to give you what you wanted," Darcy spoke very clearly.

"What do you have to say on the matter, Lydia?" The crazed man vehemently asked me.

A bead of sweat dripped down my face. A nearby Crash Cart moved of its own volition, distracting Wickham. I ripped the remainder of the gauze with ease. I remembered the self-defense lessons I took following the incident. In two swift moves, I disarmed and was pointing the gun at Wickham.

He chuckled while saying, "You will never hurt me."

"I will if I must. I will not hesitate should you force my hand."

"Lydia, after all, we have been through, are you really going to kill me? Are you going to throw aside our relationship?"

I couldn't believe the words which were spewing from his mouth. I had wished to keep this matter private, but with the number of confused, intrigued, and disgusted faces looking upon me, I clarified.

"That was NOT a relationship. You attacked me. You abused me. You raped me. I received none of your advances, and how did you respond? You attacked me while I was sleeping in an On-Call Room! I was a young, innocent intern. You saw an opportunity and you took it. YOU TOOK IT!" Tears were streaming down my face. For the first time in a long time, I let them come.

"You don't have it in you. You are weak. I made you that way."

"No, you are wrong. You are the weak one. I am stronger because of what you did to me. I learned to fight for myself and for the people that I love. And that has never, and will never include you."

I watched as his eyes changed from anger to the darkest form of pure hatred. I stood my ground and squared my shoulders. He jumped in the air with outreached arms. But I remembered all that I was taught. If it is between them and you, you make sure it is them, every time.

At this moment, it was as if all time slowed down. I could feel every bead of sweat drip down my backside. The brightness of the O.R. lights. The knowledge of Dr. Darcy's location in the room and the promise I made to myself. Will must survive. I brought my fingers down on the trigger, I felt the release of the bullet. I watched as his body jerked backward, his lifeless body fell to the floor. Blood cascaded from the wound. Dr. Darcy embraced me and pulled me from seeing the lifeless body of my attacker any longer. S.W.A.T. Personnel surrounded me and the lifeless body of one George Wickham, I didn't even notice them enter the room. They asked a few questions here, then allowed me to leave the room.

"Goodbye George," I spoke with all the strength left in me and walked out of the room.

I felt nothing. Not joy. Not anger. Not sadness. I just felt empty. I figured something was wrong with me as I was ushered into a vehicle to transport me to the police station for questioning. After all, this man has tormented me in my mind for years. I should be relieved at the bare minimum.

I answered their questions as best as I could, after they realized that I knew nothing, a psychologist entered. She asked me about my former relationship with the man. I answered that there was a time when I thought him a handsome nurse, but that changed when he raped me.

She asked if I had been in a relationship since the event, I replied that I had not. Truthfully, I said it was on account of many hours spent working, but there was a part of me that now feared men. I know that not all men are George Wickham, in fact, most are not. But I was permanently affected by one such as them.

She recommended that I seek out a psychologist to speak with to work through my issues regarding George Wickham and men in general. I agreed to it. She gave me her card and a list of other suitable therapists, psychologists, and psychiatrists in the area.

As soon as S.W.A.T. teams cleared the O.R. Floor, I rushed to find Lizzy. Before I could, my phone rang.

"William." Her voice sounded coarse.

"Elizabeth." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Where are you?"

"I am on the third floor; they are going to take me to the police station soon for questioning. I need you with me."

"I will be there right away."

I stood there beside the On-Call room as I waited for Will to arrive. I heard frantic steps from the stairwell. A moment later, I saw his worried face and disheveled hair. I ran to meet him as he opened his arms to me.

Feeling safe in his arms was unlike any other time he had ever held me. I loved him, I knew I would always love him, but this time, there was an urgency unlike any other.

Tears streamed down my face as Will held me for several moments.

"I've got you. You are safe. I will always protect you Lizzy. I will always protect the both of you." Lowering one hand to press against my stomach, I knew he would be a great father to our child. He continued speaking words of comfort for some time.

Soon enough, an officer led us to an awaiting car to take us to the police station for questioning. Neither of us wanted to recount the events of the day or any of our previous encounters with the man, but we knew that we had to.

Hearing how close Will had come to being injured, shot, or killed brought on another round of tears. The officer questioning us asked if I wanted to take a minute outside, but I could not leave Will. My place was by his side; always.