"Hello, Mrs. Wilkons. I understand you're experiencing some breathing problems?" Dr. Willis was standing next to the hospital bed with an older woman, late 60's.
She took a rattled breath, "It feels like there's water in my lungs Doctor, I was doing fine earlier. It wasn't hard to ignore it when I was watching Jeopardy this morning."
"Well, let's see what I can do, I'm just going to listen to your chest, can you lean back for me?" He placed the stethoscope on her chest to listen to the rattling within.
"Sounds like you've got a mild case of pneumonia, Mrs. Wilkons. Usually, it's not a big deal, but older patients tend to be more at risk. I'm going to admit you so we can get you on some medication and bed rest, alright? Sound good?"
She nodded her response.
As Willis was finishing marking on her chart he noticed the commotion coming from the entrance to his right. A large man, 6-2 at least, and burly was making steady time towards him. His eyes were intent and angry, it was startling the calmness he observed as he stalked towards Willis.
"Step away from her." The man pointed at Ethan, his voice steady.
"Sir, I was just checking out her lungs." Ethan had his hands up in surrender, trying to calm the man down.
"You're going to kill her! Get away!" the man was now in Ethan's face. Angry veins popping out of the man's neck. He pushed Ethan away quickly, he was able to keep his footing and remained standing.
"Sir, I need you to calm down. We're taking care of her the best we can," Ethan's voice was calm but dominant.
At this point, someone had called security and two other nurses were standing by trying to contain the situation, to no avail.
"You shut up!" The man took a step towards Ethan again, he brought his huge hand up into a fist and swung it towards Ethan.
It collided with a tremendous force with his jaw. Everything was in slow motion suddenly, a male nurse was trying to grab the burly man's arms but he shook them off. Ethan lost his balance with the result of the punch. He was falling backward, his right arm trying it's best to reach the ground before anything else. He ended up landing on his shoulder, his head whipping backward, his temple collided with the pillar that sat behind him.
It should have knocked his lights out, and yet, the result of what could only have been iron will power kept him awake. The explosion of pain like fireworks throughout his head heightened his awareness of the situation. Before he could think about it too much though, the man was on top of him again.
His heavy combat boots were landing swift kicks to his abdomen. The reflexive curling in on oneself resulted. Willis was trying to catch his breath as every kick knocked it out of him. The man landed 4 solid kicks before switching tactics. He started throwing fists wherever they would land. Ethan's arms were attempting to create a shield between him and the assaulting limbs. He was trying to pull his knees as close to his chest as possible.
The man's fists were finding their targets. One to the kidney's, shoulders, a few to the head. And then they stopped suddenly.
It took him a second to register the cease in activity. He was laying on his shoulder, his head resting against the cold tile below him. Blood dripped from his mouth and temple, a small puddle forming. Every nerve in his abdomen and chest screamed at him, firing constantly. He was dazed from the onslaught, his mind was fuzzy and he could see the room spinning slightly. There were voices around him, they were shouting… he thought.
They were saying Stay awake and We've got you. He didn't know what that meant, he was fine. He thought.
His mind became suddenly aware. He sucked in a huge breath, then his lungs were heaving. He could feel the blood pooling into his lung, someone had lifted him onto a gurney and he began to spit up blood onto the crisp white sheets.
He hurt everywhere, he let out a groan of pain.
He could see the outline of Mario Savetti's face, and Jesse was there adjusting the oxygen mask that had been placed over Ethan's blood covered face.
"Dr. Willis, we've got you. Just keep breathing for me alright?" Jesse was saying, they were wheeling him to Center Stage.
They began their work quickly, cutting his shirt off to reveal the horribly bruised and broken skin of his abdomen.
Their quick ultrasound revealed blood pooling in his abdomen. He needed surgery. Now.
Dr. Savetti ordered and OR be prepped and they wheeled him off, both Jesse and Dr. Rorisch in tow.
After the surgery.
It was a Thursday night. It had been a morbidly exciting Thursday.
Dr. Campbell, head of the ER department sat in the break room with the doctors of the ER.
"Obviously, most of you have heard already, but to set the record straight: Dr. Willis was caught in an attack by a patient earlier this evening. He is currently stable. I can't tell you much, but what I can say is that he will most likely be fine. That doesn't mean his injuries aren't severe, but they could have been worse. The man that attacked him was R.J Wilkons. He's the son of Mrs. Mary Wilkons, who Dr. Willis had been treating when he was attacked. As you can guess, he was treating R.J's mom. The police have him in custody, and he is currently getting a psych consult as we speak. We're hoping the best for Dr. Willis, as an integral member of your team, I wanted to give you all a heads up on the situation. But we need to get back to work now," he nodded and stood. The ER team were talking amongst themselves as they funneled out the door.
Campbell took a breath, it had been about 2 hours since he finished working on Ethan, he should be waking up from the anesthesia soon. There was some news to be told about the attack.
But first, he needed to check on his friend.
Will stepped into the hospital room, the smell of freshly made linens and the beeping of the machines greeted him. Willis's heart-rate was elevated, but not too much. Rox had fallen asleep in the chair to the left of Ethan's bed. She had just gotten off of her shift, heard the news, and had been there ever since.
As if on cue, Ethan's eyes began to open from their chemically induced slumber. He sat incredibly still, conscious of the stiffness that had settled into his very bones. Will stood to his right, hands in the white lab coat's pockets.
"Welcome back, you had quite the incident,"
Ethan let out a controlled breath, pain and tiredness escaping with it, "What the hell happened?" He brought his hand up to palpate his bruised and aching temple. The pain was sharp, no pain medication had been administered besides what was left of the anesthetic. His head injury needed consulting first.
"You were attacked by a patient's son. You sustained a nasty head wound to the temple and massive abdominal bruising and lacerations which ended up causing a rupture causing internal bleeding."
"Well that's a mouth full," Ethan's hand dropped.
"You've definitely got a concussion, I wouldn't be surprised if you experienced some psychological symptoms. I'll do the psych eval now if you'd like, so I can get you on some morphine before it really starts to wake up."
Ethan nodded and allowed him to do the evaluation, Will finished and ordered a pain killer drip be started.
"This may not be the best time, but while you're awake I figured you should know something," Will started, "The man, R.J., psych eval showed he had intense paranoia. They're not sure what caused it, but they do know one thing. A few months ago a 17-year-old girl was brought in with a GSW to the abdomen. The shrapnel had scattered in every direction. There were several bleeds. One of the bleeds had a source that couldn't be found. She ended up dying, the autopsy showed a tiny piece of shrapnel had been lodged behind her intestines causing her to bleed out. The shrapnel was so small it was too hard to identify on the scans. The girl was R.J's sister, Ethan. He apparently recognized you from the case and decided now was a good time to beat you to a pulp.
The case was no one's fault but R.J. blamed you. I thought you should know from someone close rather than the police." Will finished, he searched the younger man's eyes for any sign of emotion but found none.
Ethan nodded slowly, "Thanks for letting me know." The pain killers were beginning to set in, "I think I'm going to get some sleep," Will nodded and patted him on the leg before leaving.
Rox still hadn't woken up, thankfully, he thought. He didn't want to do anything but close his eyes, but the guilt that had risen from the darkness of his mind had begun to form kept his drooping eyes from closing.
He should've done more, he should've looked closer at the scans. She was only 17, he could've saved her. His train of thought trailed off as he lost consciousness.
3 days later
"Ethan! Are you insane? You were seriously injured, you are absolutely, in no way shape or form in any condition to be discharging yourself!" Rox was standing at the nurse's station while Ethan signed a few papers. Her voice was fierce and demanding, "You're not well, Ethan, you could end up killing yourself for this. Do you really want to risk it?" She begged him to rethink his choice.
He finished with the papers and turned to look at her, "I'm a doctor too you know, and I say that a few stitches in the abdomen can mend in the comfort of my own home." He had changed back into his cargo pants, combat boots, and tan t-shirt covered by his Angel's jacket. He limped away towards the lobby, Rox was on his heels.
"Ethan you can't be serious. This is dangerous." Rox tried again.
"I'm fine, Rox. Don't worry about me, if I think I'm deteriorating, I'll let you know." He wasn't going to change his mind.
"At least let me walk you to your car," she was begging in her mind for him to say okay.
"Okay, come on," he responded.
He was holding his left side, where Campbell had fixed his internal bleeding, and his head had started pounding. Man was he in bad shape.
"You should really let me at least drive you home. If you drive, I'll be convinced you actually have a death wish,"
He took a breath and huffed out his answer with a nod, "I'm fine."
He made it halfway across the parking lot to his car when he finally had to take a break, his breathing had become more ragged with each step. He had placed his hand on the side of his car and was now leaning against it for balance. His grimaces were rippling across his face.
"Ethan? Are you alright?" Rox was standing with absolute concern on her face.
His head hung with the waves of pain increasing steadily.
He shot a hand out to her outstretched arms as he fell to one knee, half sliding down the side of his Jeep.
"I'm going to pass out…" he managed to get out before the dark spots started getting bigger
She was yelling for help across the parking lot, two doctors were rushing towards them. She was holding on to him, trying to keep him from hitting his head on the concrete ground. His eyes began to roll back in his head and he went limp in her arms.
When he came to in the hospital he was a little confused, forgetting the events of the night before.
"Welcome back sleepy head," Rox greeted him.
He remembered everything then, the girl he killed, the man who attacked him, Campbell telling him what happened, then collapsing in the parking lot.
"Ethan?" Rox asked, concern laced her voice.
"I could have saved her," he whispered. His voice was barely audible.
Rox suddenly realised who he was talking about.
"Ethan, there was no way you could have seen that piece of shrapnel, it was no one's fault." She lightly squeezed his arm.
"There's always a way," he responded quietly.
"Unless you have x-ray vision, Ethan, patients are going to die. And even if you were some sort of superhero, you can't save everyone."
Something broke in him then, his demons broke through his walls and he found himself sobbing against her. His hand was wrapped around hers and she clung on to him as if to keep him from floating away.
"Ethan, you're okay… you're okay." She soothed.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeated, he didn't know what for, but it felt right.
"It's okay, we're going to get through this Ethan, do you understand? You're going to be fine." She held on to him as his tears slowed down.
He knew she was going to be there for him, she was going to be his lifeboat, his rock. He could trust her to be there for him. And sitting there with her arms wrapped around him made him feel completely and utterly safe.