Chapter Six
Neil's episode of anger-filled, desire-fueled anxiety ends up lulling him back into an exhausted sleep.
When he wakes, there are the usual stream of nurses coming and going, taking a little special care with one of their own. He stays awake long enough to tease the usually stern Nurse Petringa about her withholding pain meds out of revenge for the annoying fraternity brothers he'd dumped on her a few weeks before. When Nurse Hawks comes through, it's with an automatic refill on his ice chips since it'll be a long time before he's allowed real food.
Aaron comes by and they reminisce about patients and talk baseball for a bit. Somehow he gets caught in a bet with his former Attending involving a $500 bottle of scotch and less than favorable odds on having to pay up at the end of the season. His old mentor even finds himself misty-eyed praising Neil as if he had died on the operating table.
'Take it from a guy who was on death's door a year ago, we shouldn't wait until the last minute to tell people what they mean to us.'
When the anesthesia and general exhaustion of surgery finally wear off, the discomfort – and even worse, the boredom – set in. He realizes everyone around is busy, but he's starving for real human interaction. So, when Noreen pokes her head in to see how he's doing while Marta is out for imaging and testing, he welcomes the company. They chat amiably, and the time seems to fly by.
"When you two get things back up and running, I will be the first in line to come back," he tells her.
"I hope others feel the same way," Noreen replies. "We have insurance and probably a pretty good lawsuit over the earthquake safety structures that failed, but it's still a big blow. And it'll take us even longer to bounce back with Marta recovering from her injury."
"It sounds like things went well with the surgery. So as long as she takes it slow, she should be back on her feet in good time." He grins over at her, looking more refreshed now that she's clean and dressed casually. Though, he still picks up on her weariness over the scare she'd received from the lover she'd fought so hard to be with. "I'm really happy we could be there for the two of you."
Noreen smiles warmly. "It was a test for sure. But it's made me appreciate Marta and what we have on a whole new level. That we could get through this is a testament to us getting through anything. And Dr. Lim and Dr. Browne were wonderful."
"They are a good team," Neil agrees. "And there are worse things in life than getting booted off a surgery by my ex." He laughs gently so as not to strain his sensitive abdominal area.
"Dr. Lim?" Noreen asks, shocked. Neil nods, and she appears to consider this new information. "I guess I see it, though I didn't pick up on it at the time."
Neil pretends to be offended. "Well, we are professionals."
Pausing, Noreen shoots him a sly look. "You and Dr. Browne were a good team too." Catching her insinuation, Neil rolls his eyes, but allows a grin to pull at his lips. "There's 'professional' and then there's whatever is going on with the two of you."
"There's nothing going on with the two of us. She's a talented doctor and a friend. One of the best residents I've ever had."
"And is that all she is to you?" His expression is incredulous, but mostly it makes him nervous. Is he that easy to read now? "I have eyes, and I wasn't so distracted that I didn't notice certain things happening in front of my face. The two of you clearly have a rapport."
"I'm her boss."
"And she's a beautiful, talented woman who you think very highly of and vice versa. It says a lot for you to tell Marta and I that there's no one you trust more."
Neil sighs. Noreen doesn't know anything about his and Claire's history and after today – and what would likely be his own long recovery – maybe he wouldn't see her again until the reopening of the brewery. Given her own experiences, she doesn't seem like the kind of person to gossip.
Or at least that's what he tells himself in not denying the truth of her words.
"It's … very complicated, my 'rapport' with Dr. Browne. Claire. It doesn't matter how either of us may or may not feel. There are rules and reputations to think of."
"Dr. Melendez, you could have died," she says soberly. "You'll have to think about whether that changes things. You know about how Marta and I got together and heard our story. We spent years hiding behind fear. Even when we knew what we felt for each other, we told ourselves it wasn't real enough to justify the risks and the things we'd lose. And we did lose so much. Family. Community. Gone because of the few words acknowledging our truth. And we have to live with knowing we didn't matter enough to some people to get past their judgement. And I do not regret anything, not for one moment because I get to spend the rest of my life with the person who makes me happier than I ever thought I deserved."
Neil's chest tightens at hearing that, an echo of the thoughts he's had about Claire's happiness and the longing he tries to deny of wanting to be the one to brighten her life.
"I don't doubt there are concerns. Ones that could change everything," Noreen continues. "But if she makes you genuinely happy, there's nothing stopping you from being the brave one and starting a different kind of your own adventure."
They lock gazes, taking in the seriousness of their own experiences with death tonight, each from the other side of the spectrum. He's been spending so long and so much energy pushing his feelings away. To have them stoked, to let them float free feels more terrifying than liberating.
Neil looks away, laughing lightly at Noreen's advice. It again makes him think of his own words to Claire a few weeks ago as he'd pushed her toward Dash to keep her out of reach of his growing attraction to her.
"You make it sound easy."
"Well, I can definitely tell you it won't be easy," she chuckles. "But it'll be worth it." He turns his head to her, again hearing his own words coming back to him. "And I don't need to tell you that she is something else. Did you hear what she did during surgery with our beer engine?"
Laughing, Neil nods. "I heard! Dr. Lim told me. I wish I had been there to see it."
"I'm so thankful she was there," Noreen says in awe. "It was incredible."
Neil smiles at that, unable to hide his pride and affection at hearing how amazing Claire is. "There's one thing I do know for sure," he tells Noreen, an earnestness to his words that feel important. "You spend enough time with Dr. Browne, and you get used to incredible."
Noreen flashes him a knowing look, but they both turn at hearing footsteps coming into the room.
Claire. Just the person he's been wanting to see since he'd woken up confused and in pain.
She's standing right in front of him looking every bit as exhausted as Audrey warned him about. Yet, she's also the most exquisite, welcome sight for his sorry state of being. And then she lays bare this euphoric expression of happiness at seeing him alive and well. It wouldn't surprise him if her regard alone is enough to heal what's broken in him.
They share this private exchange, each feeling some unrealized missing piece of themselves finally falling into place as they take each other in. His heart speeds up, and he wonders if she can see it on the monitor next to him. A part of him hopes she notices what she does to him.
Then her gaze shifts to the woman next to him. "Noreen, I thought you'd be in here. Marta's back in her room. We've got all we need so you're welcome to sit with her again until visiting hours are over." She turns to Neil for a moment then back to Noreen. "But when I walk in and hear the words 'Dr. Browne' and 'incredible,' I obviously want to hear more."
Neil laughs nervously, wondering if she'd heard any other parts of their conversation. Noreen rolls her eyes and stands. "I think he's a little put out that he wasn't there to see your trick with the beer engine."
Claire's eyes brighten so brilliantly as she grins at Noreen. "Given the circumstances, I'm a little put out too." She turns her attention back to Neil and gazes fully at him, demanding he hold her eyes. "I'm just really happy he's okay, so I'll let it go this time."
Neither notices Noreen's emotional expression as she watches the two of them dance playfully around each other. If she hadn't been convinced before of something going on between them, she's certain now.
Walking towards the door, she squeezes Claire's shoulder as she passes and then reaches down to do the same with Neil's arm. "Be well, you two." And then she's gone.
Now alone with each other, Neil and Claire are silent, immobilized by whatever this is simmering beneath the surface.
Things had been not exactly awkward so much as intense between them the last week or so – since that night after Shaun had spent a couple of days lashing out at them followed by a tough surgery. In a moment of weakness, he'd revealed a bit too much to her, wanting her to know that she mattered in the midst of her own doubt.
That she makes him a better surgeon isn't new. It's part of why he thinks she's special. That she makes him a better person snuck up on him, embedded itself inside him and would not be moved. It should have bothered him that night to be so exposed, but it felt nice to give voice to his feelings. His words, though, felt like a precursor to some kind of declaration. An unspoken proposition that he shouldn't have been making.
And he suspects she picked up on it too, that it spooked her. It's the last thing he'd meant to do, but he'd been careless.
As their silent exchange lingers, Claire's grin widens. "How are you holding up?" She steps in closer to him, looks at the side of his bed and then opts for the chair that Noreen vacated. He's disappointed, but knows it's the safer option.
"I feel lousy, but grateful for it. And so bored."
She laughs, a tinkling delight to his ears. "Well, you definitely look better than the last time I saw you after the surgery. It was kind of scary." Her tone tries at humor, but there's a sadness as she looks away. "More so for you, I imagine." Her smile is weak but genuine when she returns her attention to him. Her scrubs are wrinkled and her hair neat but definitely distressed. Noticing the redness to her eyes, he wonders if Audrey's had a chance to take her off rotation for a rest.
"I'm sorry I scared you," he says. She waves her hand to dismiss the sentiment. "No, really. I know you've lost a lot lately. I'd hate to be one more thing making your life more difficult than it needs to be."
Saying the words sounds weighty. After the conversation with Noreen, he doesn't know if he means the impact his brush with death would have on her or the consequences of him burdening her with his attraction, even if just her sitting next to him – looking like hell, frankly – makes his heart sing.
She grins sweetly at him, having no idea of the turmoil going on inside his head. "Then good job not dying. I appreciate that," she jokes. "And if you were scared," she adds, "you don't have to tell me."
Neil chuckles. "I don't think I even had much time to be scared. As soon as I came back and Andrews practically threw me into the CT, it was one thing after another until surgery. I didn't really have the space to process."
When he glances back at Claire, she remains silent, but he can tell she isn't quite buying it. She raises a brow at him, a challenge for him to be honest with her, though not a demand.
"Okay, maybe there was a little time in there when things got a bit … intense." Claire nods, seeming satisfied with his response. "It's funny, I was lying in here waiting for Andrews to line everything up for the surgery. It couldn't have been more than five or ten minutes. But my mind kept wandering to these random memories."
Claire leans her head to the side, curious. "Like what? I mean, if you don't mind sharing," she says shyly.
Neil hesitates, wondering how much he should reveal. Of course, he feels completely comfortable talking to her like this, but he still doesn't know if it's fair to either of them to keep up this all too comfortable intimacy. Yet she's here and seems to genuinely want to know what's he's gone through. And he could use some perspective in sorting it all out. These days, no one is better at helping him with that than her.
"I kept thinking about the six months I took off the year before med school, backpacking across Southeast Asia. Hostels were three bucks a night. Beer was fifty cents. I found this little island in Thailand. Ko Lanta. Nothing but bamboo huts and palm trees. I stayed eight days. Read Moby Dick. Fell in love."
With such deep fondness he recalled those blissful days. He had always thought he'd get back there, maybe once he'd gotten married but before having kids. That pipe dream seems so far away. He feels older and lonelier than ever. Couldn't make any of his relationships work. Falling for someone he can't have. Facing near death, it all hit him with a terrible emotional force. Even sitting here now on the other side of it, it feels like he'll never get the things he wants most.
"The place is probably overrun with tourists now," he says a little bitterly.
If Claire picks up on the dark turn to his thoughts, she doesn't say. In fact, she seems a little introspective at hearing his description, but she perks up after a few moments. "Did anything come to mind that brought you comfort? I'm sure it was difficult being here by yourself."
The question surprises him, though it shouldn't have coming from Claire. She's always searching for the lesson, the silver lining.
He looks down and then back over to her. "I'm not afraid to die. I was raised a good Catholic. Alter boy. First Communion. Faithfully wore my silver crucifix Tia Abebe gave me for Confirmation." Thinking back on those simpler days makes him smile. "I was a true believer. And then I went to college. And maybe it's just now when I've stared into the yawning void and hedging my bet, but, it came back to me. Like an old friend with a warm hug."
It feels good to admit this growing peace he's been slowly accepting in between being poked and prodded or tying himself in knots over his mortality and his future and his unexplored affection for a resident. It's the only thing right now that feels certain and undemanding. Claire is right to remind him of this comfort.
When he glances at her, curious about her reaction to what he's shared, he finds her leaning forward, hanging off his every word. Maybe she's thinking about her own relationship with God, the details of which Morgan coaxed out of her during surgery a while back.
Her eyes are misty and soft, her shoulders weary. She turns to face him more fully, and he can practically feel the rapidly rising tension in her body. Her lips quiver as she struggles with her own unsettled emotions, and it seems as if she wants to say something but can't find the words.
Now clenching the blanket resting in his lap, he can tell she's recognized on some level that invisible part of him that's reaching for her. He can feel her reaching back, wanting to be another kind of comfort to him, too.
And he can't bring himself to let her.
It would change everything for them too quickly. And he knew himself well enough to realize he wouldn't be able to let go of her. Noreen is right but so wrong. Being brave isn't an adventure. It's a death knell for her career here and possibly his too. She's too talented, has worked too hard for him to derail all her efforts because he's foolishly let himself fall in love with her. Pushing her toward Dash had been the right call, he's sure of it now.
Gathering her thoughts, Claire looks up at him with a probing, determined stare. "I want you to know that I—"
"Don't," he says, getting his emotions back under control.
She's taken aback as if he's struck her. It tears at his heart to see her reacting to him in this way. But it has to be this way.
"You should go. This place still has a crisis going on, and Lim said she needed to take you off-shift for a while once it's calmed down."
Still stunned, Claire glances at him before looking away quickly, tears forming and her expressive face trying to hide her hurt. Neil closes his eyes to the pain he's caused her, regretting it already. When he re-opens them, she's now standing, smoothing out her scrubs and hovering; reluctant to leave his side. "Don't wear yourself out," he tells her, hoping it's enough to take the sting from his earlier words. "Eat something. Get some rest."
Claire tries – and fails – to offer a tight smile. She nods and looks to him one last time.
"Goodbye, Claire," he says, his own weariness showing.
Barely looking at him before diverting her gaze at anything other than his face, Claire turns to leave. "Goodbye." And she walks out of the room, a furtive swipe across her cheek as she disappears from view. It leaves him to his own dark thoughts.
Even though he thinks he's doing the right thing, he feels worse than ever.
She doesn't come back for the rest of the afternoon, and he knows it's probably for the best, no matter if he craves her company more than ever now that he knows he can't have it.
The nurses come in and continue to dote on him in a way that's annoying but sweet. Morgan comes by for a while, clearly as bored as he is. But that visit gets cut short when he has to go out for more tests. When he returns to his room, he's exhausted, but he's got at least one more check-in with Andrews before he can sleep for any extended period of time. He reaches over to the bedside table for the TV remote when he notices the items blocking the way.
Sitting in a pile are two of his crossword books, the ones he grabs when he knows he'll be waiting a while for a patient to wake up after surgery or for a long session of imaging and scans. There is also a pen and a pencil sitting beside it, both from his office. There's a regular book there too, though he can't see the cover. And on top of the books is an envelope with his name on it in nondescript block letters. Curious, he reaches for it, noticing something small moving around inside. He looks back at the pile to see if there's any kind of note, but there's nothing there. Now that he sees the cover on the top book, he can just make out the title: Moby Dick.
When he opens the envelope, it confirms for him who it's from.
Inside is a small silver crucifix on a chain, probably from the hospital gift shop downstairs. He pours the contents out into his palm, grinning like a lovesick idiot and cradling it in his hand, a powerful surge of affection at her gesture. He's almost died on her, given her all sorts of mixed signals and then made her cry yet she goes and does this.
How could one person be this wonderful? Despite all he's done today to redirect his feelings for Claire, to push her away and refuse to speak of the gnawing need for her in his heart, he realizes it won't be easy.
He's hopelessly in love with her. And he needs to figure out what he's going to do about it.
TBC