--
They convened in the NICU, a sober lot: Callie, Miranda, Derek, Burke and Addison. She took the lead on stabilizing the baby. The men stayed out of her way. When she spoke to the parents, it was with impassive, professional efficiency:
"He's stable."
They nodded tearfully.
"He's on life support. It's pumping his blood and keeping his lungs inflated."
"How long can he stay that way?" Noah asked.
"How long do you want him to?"
The parents traded glances, knowing what they had to do. "Call the rabbi, Hanna. We need to move it up. Come on, little one. Just a bit longer…"
"Is he…is he suffering?" Hanna asked.
"He has…his brain is no longer functioning," Derek said gently. "It isn't regulating his body anymore. He has no awareness, Hanna. He isn't feeling anything."
"So he isn't suffering."
"No."
They made their phone calls. Hanna's parents were too far away to come. Noah's would not arrive in time. But the rabbi and mohel were making a special dispensation and trekking out to Seattle Grace in the dead of night.
"We hope you'll stay for the ceremony," Hanna said.
"Of course we will." Derek touched her hand with a gentle smile. "Of course."
They turned their pagers on, in case they were needed elsewhere. All of them secretly knew they wouldn't be. The fates would give them this one. They would let them be, until it was over.
--
"She's taking it well," Callie whispered.
It wasn't over yet, though, and they could see the tilt of her jaw as she bit her lip, and the twitch of her fists as she fiddled with her pen. Nervous tics. It wasn't over yet.
"We're ready," the rabbi told them. The room was crowded now: interns, nurses, all of those who had worked on the baby over the last week and a bit. The rabbi and the mohel had set up a small table, on which they had placed the incubator, and various accoutrements. "Can we remove him from the incubator?" the mohel asked.
"Very carefully," Addison said.
She reached in with one hand, and almost sprung back when it brushed against Derek's. Her eyes clenched shut for a second, then she recovered, and helped him gently pull out the baby and untangle him as best they could.
"Blessed is the one arriving," said the rabbi softly. He chanted in Hebrew for a moment. "Blessed are you who has sanctified us with his commandments, and commanded us concerning circumcision. Blessed are you who has sanctified us with his commandments, and commanded us to enter him into the covenant of Abraham."
The rabbi gently folded Noah's hands around the baby. "Hold him, like this. There you go. Now, the wine…"
The wine was blessed. Then the rabbi motioned Hanna closer, and she whispered in his ear, the name. The rabbi nodded, and gamely smiled. "Our God and God of our fathers, preserve this child for his father and mother, and his name in Israel shall be called…Nathan Ari, the son of Noah and Hanna. May the father rejoice in his offspring, and his mother be glad with the fruit of her womb."
Even the rabbi's voice was wobbling a little. They couldn't change the words, just because the baby was sick. It wouldn't be sanctified, if they did. So he was reading it, like he would for any child, like this child had a future too…
The rabbi passed around the wine to both parents, then called the mohel forward to perform the ritual cut. He spilled some wine onto a cloth, held it over the baby's mouth and squeezed a few drops out, then loosened his diaper. He made the cut, finished the chanting in Hebrew, then repeated it for the benefit of the witnesses.
"Sovereign of the universe, may it be your will that this child be regarded and accepted by you as if I had offered him before the throne of your glory. And may you, in your abounding mercy, send through your angels a holy and pure soul to Nathan Ari, the son of Noah and Hanna, who has now been circumcised for the sake of your great name."
Hanna bowed her head.
"May this little infant, Nathan Ari, become great. Just as he has entered the covenant, so may he enter into Torah, into marriage, and into good deeds."
Hanna staggered, and was gathered up by her husband, his eyes shining too. "Is it done, Rabbi?"
"It is done. He has entered into the covenant, Noah. You have a son."
"His name is Hebrew," Noah said. "Nathan. 'He was given.' And he was. For a short time, but just the same. Nathan Ari. A lion was given."
"Yes. He was."
Noah hugged his wife closer, then nodded to Addison. "You can take him off the ventilator now, and the…the rest of it. We'll stay with him until he goes."
"We will too," Addison said.
"Rabbi, you'll speak to the funeral home? Make the arrangements?"
"Yes, Noah."
There was silence. They listened to the steady beep of the monitor as it tapered off, then as it came to life again, with the insistent warning shrill of arrest.
Addison flinched, reflexes trained to act. The beep trilled on, then flatlined.
--
There was a split second of total silence. Then Addison screamed. The parents, still too stunned to react themselves, looked up, then burrowed deeper into each other's arms.
"Addison?" Miranda stood, ready to jump in, but she couldn't get close. Addison had crumpled to the floor in a heap of sobs, struggling for breath, sucking in gasping shudders, her body twitching.
"Why don't you come with me," Burke said, eyeing Addison nervously as he put his arm around the parents. "We'll find you a room, and you can stay with him as long as you need to, hold him in your arms without the tubes and wires…"
"Whoa," Cristina said. She took half a step toward the spectacle of her boss, in extremis, then stepped back, nodding to the other interns. "We should…uh…we should take five. Shouldn't we?"
And, in the first small mercy she had shown since her unceremonious assignation to Addison's service, she cleared the nurses and interns out. It was just Callie, Miranda and Derek now---and Addison, trying to talk, trying to cry, too overcome to manage anything more than shuddering and whimpering.
"We should stop this," Callie pleaded, a note of panic in her voice. "Addison…Addison, look at me. Addison!"
Miranda shook her head, knelt down, tried to get close. But she lashed out, thrashing, hyperventilating, screaming out sobs between laboured breaths. Miranda moved closer, then stopped, feeling a hand on her shoulder.
"Let me," Derek said. He got down on the floor with her, edged his way toward her. They watched as he delicately inched closer, step by step, holding out his hand ahead of him as if he was coaxing a wild animal. "Addie? Baby, come here, come here…"
She let him take her. He eased his arms around her and held her close, stroking her hair and murmuring "Shh, shh, it's okay…" She relaxed, then struggled again, chest rattling with laboured wheezes. After a moment's flailing, she went limp.
"She's out," Derek said. He gently brushed the sweat-dampened hair out of her eyes. "Poor thing."
"Let's get her to the clinic," Callie said. "She can sleep it off there. We'll take her, Derek."
"But…"
"We'll take her. Here, get a…there we go. Miranda?"
"Right."
"But…" Derek interrupted them. "Can I do something? I want to do something."
Miranda granted him a small smile. "You did already. You want to do something else? Track down Sydney Heron for me, then send her on to the clinic, okay?"
"Sydney Heron? But…"
"Derek. Do you want to lose that point you just earned?"
"But…"
"Go, Shepherd! Trust me on this. She's in good hands."
"Yeah. She'll be okay."
"Damn right. I personally will see to it. Go, like you've been told. We'll see you on the flipside."
--