Sue looked at her watch and then up at the clock, before glancing back down at her wrist again. Only six minutes left until it was her dinner break and she was hoping that Ginny would come back from hers early so that she could sneak down to the cafeteria before it closed. Her stomach had been growling on-and-off for the past hour and all she could think about was getting the last of the double chocolate muffins they sold on Wednesdays. That's if there were any left at this hour.
It had been raining out all day and she really didn't feel like sloshing her way out to her Honda Accord and getting soaked just to drive down the street to the overpriced diner some of the more senior medical staff of West Gotham General Hospital frequented. Her clogs were the only shoes she had thought to wear today as she rushed out of the house to work and was about halfway to the hospital when she realized her sneakers were still on the shoe rack in their laundry room at home. One of these days she would remember to leave them in her locker at work.
"Sorry, sorry," Ginny huffed as she rounded the corner of the reception desk. She tossed her belongs the desk and sat down in her chair.
"Hank called me because he couldn't find the remote again. I asked him if he had left it on top of the microwave like he sometimes does."
"Did he find it?" Sue asked.
"He was sitting on it," Ginny answered, still annoyed.
Sue snorted as she grabbed her purse from underneath the front desk.
"Headed downstairs, "Sue said, slipping a cardigan on over her scrubs. "Just going to grab dinner. Dr. Morrison returned the iPad a few minutes ago; says it needs charging."
"Oh! Hey Sue," Ginny called after her, leaning over the desk. "Do you mind just running down to Room 39B? I told him visiting hours were over and wanted to make sure he observed the rules."
Sue sighed. "Yeah, ok but I'm adding 5 extra to the end of my break then."
"You're the best," Ginny gave Sue a thumbs up as Sue disappeared down the hall.
It had been surprisingly slow visitor-wise all day in their wing, not that Sue had noticed with the stack of doctors' notes she had to enter into the database and med supply list to review and send out to the administrative office. It was mostly her fault, she knew that much. She actually did her job running the desk efficiently and leaving her colleague at the front desk in their wing of the hospital, Ginny, to do very little except answer the occasional phone call and or do some internet shopping on her smartphone. Sue's transfer request had been denied so she realized she only had to survive Ginny's "8 more months until retirement", as Ginny had so frequently referenced. Sue still didn't know what exactly she was retiring from seeing as Ginny probably hadn't worked a day for the past 6 years.
Sue entered the hospital room which was depressingly dim and lit by only the fluorescent light over the bed and a corner lamp. She pulled her sweater closer to her body when the room's cold atmosphere sent a bone-chilling draft through her clothes. Sue looked around for the wall thermostat and spotted the whiteboard with the nurse's info scrawled in blue dry erase marker. Margaret Rudd, RN. She would have to ask Margaret to adjust the heat on her next round. She couldn't imagine anyone recuperating in something this uncomfortably cool.
The room was designed for double occupancy but only the furthest bed was in use. Next to it, sat a man hunched over in his chair, looking to be either talking quietly to the patient or perhaps praying. There was no television playing like in most of the other rooms, only the sound of the monitoring equipment beeping could be heard. Sue hated to interrupt this quiet moment but judging from the sight of the myriad tubes coming from the patient's mouth, arm and the other visible medical devices, it was highly unlikely this visit was yielding much in the way of two-way communication.
"Sir, our visiting hours are over. I'm afraid you'll have to leave."
The man stirred, lifting his head slightly.
"Yes, I'll only be a minute," he replied, not turning around. "I only wanted to wish her goodnight. "
Sue sighed. "Very well, but please be brief." She turned on her heel and left, deciding that if he lingered, one of the interns wandering the floor could alert the front desk. At least it would give Ginny something to do.
The man sat in his chair motionless, eyes fixed on the face of the woman lying in the hospital bed. He hadn't spoken since entering the room and pulled the chair up to her side. She looked the same. Skin just as clear and bright as the day he met her, long blonde eyelashes set along wide-set, almond shaped eyes that lay closed. Her mouth fixed in the straight yet contented line like it always was whenever she read or watered the plants in her small garden. Lying there she almost resembled a portrait of the Sleeping Beauty, a vision that he could admire forever.
No, he didn't want it to be this way. He wanted her to open her eyes and see him. He longed to see the faint blush that would appear in her cheeks when she laughed- wanted to hear her dulcet voice saying his name. Not the stillness of infirmity, this uncertain slumber. Was she dreaming? Was she happy? Did she know that he was sorry?
"Nora," he uttered softly, a dry pinch in the back of his throat.
He heard footsteps enter the room and quickly gathered his composure before the nurse could ask him to leave again.
"Yes, yes. I know. I was just leaving," he said, rising up and reaching for his coat had draped over the vacant bed over.
"My condolences, Doctor. I know this institution has little regard for the grieving."
The man froze but then turned and looked straight ahead at the newly arrived guests. Three men all dressed in nondescript black, wool overcoats and dress slacks entered his wife's hospital room. Two of them were complete strangers but the third he recognized instantly as Rupert Thorne, CEO of Thorne Enterprise. Thorne was never without an assistant or PR maven wherever he went yet the man knew he could safely eliminate either of the 2 burly-looking individuals from those job descriptions. They had met a few times, most recently at a gala in London where a colleague of his was receiving an award. Thorne looked exactly how he knew people expected him to look like. Mature, handsome and capable; a picture of Old Money, Ivy League health and prosperity.
"I spoke to uh...Virginia, at the desk," Thorne said, gesturing to the hallway. "She said that you can have a few more moments with your dearly departed."
The man clenched his jaw, working hard not to glare at Thorne.
"She's not dead," he replied.
Thorne looked over at one of his male associates who raised an eyebrow at him.
"No?" Thorne countered, amazed as he took a few steps further into the room. "It was my understanding there was some kind of delay getting that very specific treatment of yours funded. If this coma doesn't sign her death certificate, then the long arm of rigid Gotham bureaucracy probably will."
The man took a deep breath this time, steeling himself before answering.
"You came here just to talk about Gotham's social issues?"
Thorne stared at him, eyes scrutinizing him the man with the calmest of smiles. "I just came to see if you had reconsidered my offer."
The man turned his back to them to look once more at his sick wife.
"I already gave you my answer," he answered evenly. "My work...isn't for sale, Rupert."
Thorne sucked in his teeth and neared the bedside.
"You're right, I'm just a businessman who thinks about nothing but money. But you, Victor... you're the man of science, the man of discovery, a man not afraid to take risks. I need someone like you to guide me in the way."
The man, Victor Fries, didn't answer. How did Thorne even known his wife was in this hospital, much less back stateside?
"Look, Doctor Fries, I'm not here to 'make you an offer you can't refuse'. This isn't about me or my 'business', alright? This is about finding a cure for your beloved wife over there and who knows...maybe even a cure for all humanity."
"What's in it for you?" Dr, Fries asked, unable to mask the skepticism in his voice.
Thorne smiled and shrugged at him sympathetically.
"Do yourself a favor, Victor. Come down to the corporate office next week, we can have a little chat and I'll show you around. We've even got a lab space you can have all to yourself. Take a look around, maybe testdrive a- I don't know a microscope or two - and if you don't like it, I'll get out of your hair for good."
Dr. Fries sighed, wearied and taut.
"Don't even think about it know," Thorne said, breezily. "I'll see you on Monday and you can see for yourself. Can't hurt, right? If you don't go, then you'll never know."
The woman from the front desk appeared in the doorway trying her best to look stern although she was facing down Thorne's considerably sturdy-looking associates.
"Sir, I need you and your friends to leave. Hospital policy."
Thorne flashed her his toothy executive grin.
"Yes, Miss Virginia, we were just leaving."
Virginia nodded tersely, before turning sharply on her heel and left. Thorne's two employees followed leaving Thorne and Dr. Fries in the room.
Thorne turned and looked at Dr. Fries, over at his wife and then around the room once more. "Just remember, Victor. What you don't know," Thorne added, heading for the door, "just might kill her."