Chapter 4 – His Disappointments

Around this place we tend to build up a lot of expectations. Even when you have years of reality behind you, you tend to idealize what could happen: The patient will get better; The doctor will be appreciated; Lives will go back to normal when people leave this place. But the odds are against hope. At least one in three patients will probably die, and eventually they all do. Doctors are people who just serve and don't usually get a whole lot of respect for what we do, but get blamed for not changing fate. And chances are that if you wind up in this place it'll end up changing your life forever. Hope is a defense mechanism we all use to avoid the truth, even if we pretend we don't. Believing that good things can happen is what keeps us all from jumping off the roof. The problem with hope is that more often than not, you just wind up getting disappointed.

The surgeon had shown up a full fifteen minutes after being sent for, earning him one of my lectures about how his complete lack of speed could very well end up costing people their lives, which was a bad thing in case the numb-nuts didn't know. Ignoring the rant, the surgeon assessed the damage and then, with the help of a few nurses, wheeled the kid down to the OR to do his job. I threw myself into my work to keep myself distracted, and ended up agitated enough that when the brainless back-up on-call idiot did finally show I ranted for a good ten minutes and nearly sent him home again before remembering I needed him. Still, even with as much work as I gave myself, I wound up walking past the OR a lot more than necessary. Finally one of the times I passed it and peeked in the window, I saw the room was empty.

Hurriedly finishing the errand I was on, I jogged back up to Newbie's room. The surgeon had just left it and was halfway down the hall when he saw me coming toward him.

"He came out okay," the surgeon said without preempting. I felt myself hate the guy just a little less, although whether it was because he'd managed to nawt kill Newbie or because he'd started the conversation so I didn't have to ask and could pretend that I wasn't that concerned, I wasn't quite sure. "We went through and managed to reset his leg, although it took a lot of work 'cause there were four breaks. Nurses already got the cast on it. We checked the ribs but it looks like they managed to avoid serious damage so he should be fine there as long as he doesn't get jostled much. And we had to drill the skull to relieve a bit of blood that had pooled there, but we think it was just from the trauma and there wasn't enough that it should cause real problems. So his head's all stitched back together, and he's your problem again."

I felt any appreciation for the surgeon rush out of me faster than Satan himself, aka Bobbo, would run from a holy cross. "Thanks a lot," I said, letting my familiar sarcasm come back. And for good measure, "Jackass. Now get the hell outta here and back to that whack and slash game you play downstairs." The surgeon scowled but to his credit he only rolled his eyes and left, muttering some stream of cursing beneath his breath. I ignored this and went back into Newbie's room.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but I was disappointed. The kid didn't really look any different from before. The bandages on his head were a little less lop-sided and bulky, and that mangled left leg was securely encased in thick white plaster. Other than that, he still looked like the severely injured victim of fate that he was. Sighing heavily, I fell down in the chair by the bed again.

It was three hours later when my pager finally went off again. I jerked awake, not even realizing I'd been dozing. For a frantic moment I was afraid it was the heart monitor above my head beeping and I was ready to call a nurse in for help before realizing the noise came from my hip.

"Damn," I said loudly, reading the page. Another code. Definitely not something I could ignore. "Be back soon, Newbie," I said as I rushed out of the door. I didn't even bother to consider why I'd felt compelled to talk to the unconscious doctor. No time to deal with that internal argument. I really needed to go do my job now. Time to go save another life.

I didn't save her. I tried but the old woman just refused to come back. Finally, in an emotionless voice, I glanced at my watch and said, "Time of death: oh-four-thirty-seven, a.m." I left the nurses to get her to the morgue. Newbie had been alone for a half hour now and as I walked briskly back to the room I found himself hoping – almost wishing – that the kid might be coming around when I got there.

Once again I was disappointed. Newbie was still out but his vitals were fine. At least nothing had gotten worse. Of course with all the morphine we'd been pumping into his system it was no real shocker he was still out. No reason to start worrying yet. Trusting the stability to last a bit longer, I went into my office and retrieved a stack of previously ignored paperwork that needed to be finished, carrying it back into Newbie's room. Pulling over the little table they used to set patient's lunches on, I spread out the papers and began trying fruitlessly to get caught up on the part of my job that I had neglected for the last two days.

Occasionally the intern or nurses would stick their head in to ask me a question, and at one point the intern girl brought me a cup of luke warm coffee without my having even asked for it. Maybe she wasn't as much of a hopeless cause as I thought. Even though I still inadvertently blamed her for Newbie's condition. Beyond that I was left mostly alone. The only other code that night ended up being a false alarm caused by a faulty heart monitor, and, very disgruntled, I went back to sitting at Newbie's bedside.

Too tired to focus on the little numbers and fine print any longer, I pushed away my papers and glanced at the clock. A quarter after six. In just a short while the regular hospital staff would be coming back to work. Barbie would come in and take over the patients she so charitably dumped on me every night. Gandhi would be loud and cocky and generally act like his usual, scalpel-pushing self. Carla would try to keep us all in our places and pester me about what was bothering me, because she was just that damn psychic. Everything at Sacred Heart would be back to its normal routine except one thing: Newbie.

"One helluva night, eh Newbie?"

What in the name of oh-my-god-I'm-an-idiot is wrong with me? I'm talking to an unconscious doctor, one who had aggravated me from day one and may very well be in a coma at this point in time. I was starting to act like the kid himself. By god, I need sleep.

At the same time, I felt pressured to keep talking. Newbie had always thought that maybe coma patients could hear and understand you even if they couldn't respond. I remembered years ago when the kid had protested my talking so harshly about a coma patient in case he could hear. I'd been snide about it then, but what if there was some truth in it? While I was pretty certain that Newbie wasn't actually in a coma, what if he really could hear it? He'd want to know what was going on so when he came to he hadn't missed anything. It was ridiculous and so Newbie-ish, but it was worth a shot if it got the kid back on his feet again sooner. Besides, truth be told, I just wanted to be talking after sitting in the quiet all night with everything weighing on my mind, and Carla wouldn't be here for almost two hours.

"Just one of those nights where it seems like nothin' is gonna go right, you know," I said, resigning myself to my sleep-deprived insanity. "A few hours ago we lost Mrs. Robinson." In my head I heard Newbie humming the song from The Graduate like he'd done every time he'd heard the woman's name. I had to repress a smile at the thought. Typical Newbie. "And your interns are idiots, the whole lot of 'em. I'm glad you're the one that has to put up with them now and nawt me. I got enough of it with you and Barbaroo."

Relaxing back in my chair, lacing my hands together behind my head, I looked over at the unconscious kid. He was a little less pale after five hours of having the missing blood siphoned back into him, but he didn't look any less terrible. The split in his head had been on the side where I sat so the bandaging was thicker and covered more, but the hulking mass of plaster and gauze that was his reconstructed leg was on the opposite side. I was grateful they had finally managed to get the kid into a gown because just looking at the bruising that had covered that scrawny torso made me wince. Boy did Newbie have a whole helluva lot of healing ahead of him.

"You know I didn't want this to happen, don'cha?" I asked, knowing I wouldn't get an answer but feeling obligated to ask anyway. "I know I yell at ya a lot and all, but – awh hell, I'm no good at this." I stopped, rubbing a hand over my face wearily. "I guess I just feel – bad about all this. I mean – why is this still so difficult? I know they're words I ne-hever say, but you're unconscious for god's sake. Not like you're gonna make a scene." It took a few seconds more before I finally managed to push the words out. "I guess I'm sorry."

Suddenly JD sprang up in bed, grinning broadly. "You did it, you were nice to me!" he yelled and out of nowhere there was confetti and balloons falling from the ceiling. JD threw his arms around me, dragging me into a hug. "I knew you loved me!"

I shuddered, making a noise of disgust. "Awh, Jesus, Newbie, those fantasies of yours are contagious," I drawled out in annoyance. Staring upward I muttered, "Please, God, if there's any mercy in you, just go ahead and kill me now." A tired chuckle escaped me and I leaned my head on the back of the chair, slumping down so I was more comfortable and resting my feet on the corner of the hospital bed. It couldn't hurt anything to just relax for a minute, recharge so I didn't kill anyone.

I woke up abruptly when my body slipped off of the chair and I landed hard on the linoleum. I grunted at the pain it sent through my back, and rubbed my hands on my face. Apparently I'd been sliding farther down in the chair in my sleep until gravity took over. Now my back and neck were aching and it took an effort to heave myself off the ground. Damn, getting old is a nuisance.

Newbie looked exactly like he did the when I'd fallen asleep, although maybe a little less ghostly white in the sunlight seeping through those cheap vertical blinds. God, the kid was a mess. But he was stable; he was going to come out of it eventually.

I glanced at the clock. Eight-eleven. Great, that meant the rest of the staff would be back. Time to go back out and pretend that nothing of great consequence had happened over the night. This would be much easier to fake with people there to distract myself with. Gathering my paperwork and tucking it under my arm, I walked out of the room and when I turned to head down the hall I nearly collided with a nurse.

"Wow, Dr. Cox, sleeping with patients now?"

The accented retort made me look down and I grinned. Carla was staring up at me, her hands on her hips as she smiled back at me. I love that smile. Honestly, I still sorta love that woman, but that isn't a hatchet to dig up right now. I have other concerns.

"Hey Carla," I said and my sarcasm softened just for her. "And I was nawt sleeping in there, just checking in like, you know, I'm supposed to. As a doctor."

"You sure?" Carla asked, raising an eyebrow. "'Cause you look like you just woke up."

I let out a derisive laugh. "I've been on-call all night, I haven't slept enough to wake up. In fact now that you all are here to take over I'm on my way to lock myself in my office and take a bit of a catnap while I pretend to do the more agonizing part of my job." Carla was staring up at me with a look of skepticism and I knew she was on to me. Damn it, why am I so transparent to her? Usually I loved it because she would bully me into confiding in her like I secretly wanted to do anyway, but today I wished she was a little less observant. Especially because I knew the truth would hurt her, too.

"Dr. Cox, I think we both know there's something more going on here than you're telling me. I mean, I'm not quite sure why you'd be carrying budget files if you're just 'checking in' with a patient, unless you're patient is an accountant or something. But you know where I'll be if you wanna talk–"

"It's Newbie," I blurted out suddenly, cutting across her. Carla stopped short, looking up in confusion. I knew she had no idea what it was that I was talking about, but I was having a hard time getting the words to leave my mouth. Instantly, I was regretting having said anything at all, but she was the only one here I could really confide in and I needed to talk.

"Bambi? What about him? Did he piss you off again?" she asked, assuming the position she always took when I was about to get a lecture about being nicer to the kid. I looked around to make sure we were alone in the hallway. "Because–"

"No, he's the patient."

There was a stunned silence as she stared up at me, her mouth still half-opened from being in the middle of a sentence. I watched as the truth processed behind those big brown eyes. Gradually her lips came together and a look of horror took over her face. "No," she said, shaking her head. "Bambi?"

Before I could answer she had rushed past me into the room. She stopped just inside of the doorway, her hands on her mouth. I came to stand in the frame, leaning against it and folding my arms to act casual. "No. Oh no, Bambi." Cautiously, as if she was unsure whether the ground might disappear beneath her, she approached the bed and wrapped her fingers around Newbie's hand, carefully avoiding the line of stitches across its back. Wheeling on me, she began shooting questions at me in rapid Spanish.

"He was in a car wreck last night," I explained. This effectively silenced the interrogation and I hurried to push on before she got her powers of speech back. "Some idiot fell asleep and hit his car. He's got a couple broken ribs, a crack down to his skull, and multiple fractures in his leg. We had him patched up as best as we could, but now we're just waiting around for Sleeping Beauty there to wake up. Which she really needs to do, like, soon so we can find out just how much of that brain got scrambled."

Carla's eyes were still brimming with worried tears but she frowned at me. Uh oh. "Could you not ridicule him for once? God, Perry, don't you see him? You don't need to keep up your bad ass act right now so would you just lay off the insults and jokes?"

"No, Carla, I won't," I answered, trying to keep my voice emotionless although I was a little startled by her use of my first name. She usually only called me 'Perry' at work when I was in serious trouble. "I see him, okay? I've been in here all damn night because I see what he looks like. But frankly, the jokes help. It's easier because it's normal. So no, I won't lay off, because if I do I might very well have to kill someone and then I'll have to listen to Sad-Sack following me around all day stammering about lawsuits, and then I'd have to kill him too. Or maybe I'll just kill him first and save us all the trouble. But either way, the jokes stay."

"All night?" Carla asked, completely unphased by my growing anger. Her mind seemed to have only latched on to one little part of my rant. This annoyed me more because I was tired as hell and that rant had taken a lot more effort than usual, but she'd hardly been paying attention. Now her eyes drifted to the paperwork in my arm and the empty coffee cup still sitting on the patient's table, then to the chair beside the bed before finally resting on me again.

"Do whatever makes this easier on you, Dr. Cox," she said in a smoother voice. Her fingers moved to brush a loose curl away from Newbie's face even though it was stuck in the bandaging and just flipped back into place the moment her hand lifted. Then she turned and walked out of the room, patting me on the arm as she passed and giving me a small smile that told me everything was fine between us again. The message in her eyes was clear enough; I knew where she was for when I finally needed to cave and talk about my night.

"Thanks, Carla," I said, closing the door behind us. "Oh and when you break it to Gandhi could you try to keep him calm, because we really don't need him getting all hysterical? Bethany there needs some peace and quiet. And if we could just find the tranquilizers to use on Barbie that'd save us a whole lot of trouble and ear damage." Carla only smiled and nodded before walking away in a remarkably composed way. I had to admire just how strong she was.

Deciding I wasn't in that much of a hurry to get back to my office just yet, I crossed the hall and leaned up against the wall opposite the window of Newbie's room. From this far away the kid just looked like any other patient, and it allowed me to be just a doctor. Forget that the kid had been my loyal shadow for over seven years. Distance myself. And from a purely medical stand-point, my hopes for the kid were bleak. There were so many things that were just begging to go wrong in there. That shattered leg might be beyond complete repair and either leave him limping his whole life or even need to be amputated if it didn't fuse back together right. The arrhythmia had eased a little but could still cause another bout of cardiac arrest we might not be able to stop in time. Those broken ribs could do serious damage to his lungs if he moved too much. That head injury could have caused massive brain damage, the results of which were so many different horrible things that I didn't even want to list them to myself. Either way, Newbie's outlook was not the most promising thing.

And Sacred Heart scores another against hope.

I only made it far enough away to get a large cup of black coffee before deciding I needed to go check on the kid again. As much as I hated it, I couldn't stand to be that far away until I knew Newbie was gonna wake up. At least then things would be definitive. Sipping at the scalding drink, I reached the room and saw my chair had already been occupied.

Gandhi was sitting at the bedside, staring at his best friend in clear shock. There was that blank look that I had seen so many times. That calm vacancy before the truth fully sets in. I watched as the surgeon's expression filled with terror and sadness, a single tear appearing on his cheek before he brushed it off. Then he closed his eyes and leaned his face against his clasped hands, muttering under his breath. It took me a few seconds to realize what he was doing; praying.

"Don't take JD, he's never done anything to deserve it," Gandhi was saying. "He might be a bit crazy but he's the best friend anyone in the world could ask for. He is always helping people, even when he doesn't get anything in return for it. Please." The rest of his words trailed off and I heard the shaking breath of someone trying to suck back sobs.

"You know he does get something in return," I finally spoke up, making Gandhi jump in fright. He stood up quickly, brushing his hands over his eyes again.

"Oh, hey, Dr. Cox," he stammered. "I was just – what were you saying?"

"I was saying he does get something in return for it all," I said, forcing myself to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Even if it was the idiot Gumball in front of me, he was still someone grieving an injured family member and that meant I should really be a professional about this, personal feelings aside. "Newbie does. He gets his jollies off helping people. It just makes him happy to help out."

"I know," Gandhi said, giving a watery chuckle. "That's why he became a doctor." He cleared his throat again. "What happened? Carla said something about an accident but I – uh – didn't hear her."

"Already running down here when she said it?" I asked, already guessing the answer. The embarrassed look on Gandhi's face confirmed it. "He was in a car wreck last night heading home. Semi driver dozed off at the wheel and got Newbie's car. Just thank God he doesn't drive that little femmy motorcycle on estrogen that he used to."

It was while I was running through the list of Newbie's injuries and the effects when I first heard it. A groan. I paused mid-sentence, looking down at Newbie. The kid didn't look like he'd moved at all but where else could the noise have come from? Was it someone's stomach growling? I hadn't eaten in a while, now I thought about it. But then there it was again, and I saw the corners of the kid's eyes wrinkle as his eyes squeezed just a bit tighter.

"Newbie, you awake in there?" I asked. Groan. "C'mon, Shirley, up you get. Can you open your eyes for me?" Newbie groaned again, followed by a cough which instantly elicited another groan. "Yeah, easy there, Skippy, your ribs are pretty banged up. Now open your eyes, if you can." The kid's facial muscles were twitching as if he was trying to remember how to work them all. His eyes squinted tighter shut, jaw clenched and unclenched, nostrils flared and drew in an over-compensating whiff of the oxygen tube. Then finally he managed to pry his eyes open just a fraction before shutting them again.

"Ow," Newbie moaned. His right arm fidgeted like he was going to cover his eyes but the heavy morphine hadn't worn off and his arm never lifted.

"Gandhi, get the blinds, lights," I snapped and the surgeon instantly complied, dousing both lights so we were bathed in semi-darkness. "Now c'mon, JD, open your eyes again. Slow if you have to. Just try to focus on me." It took Newbie a few more tries before he finally opened his eyes enough to look around the room.

"There's my Vanilla Bear," Gandhi said, his relief and excitement all too evident in his voice. I was just as relieved but struggled to not show it, shushing the surgeon. Newbie was looking around as though trying to figure out just where he was. Probably trying to figure out why he was there.

"Okay, Newbie, focus here again," I said and the blue eyes swiveled back to lock on my face. At least the kid was responsive and able to focus. That was two checks off the brain damage list. "Welcome back, Delilah. You had us going there for a while."

"Ha, nothing takes out my V-Bear," Gandhi proclaimed proudly. He was practically flying in his exhilaration. "I knew you'd make it out of this okay, buddy." There was a vague smile on Newbie's face as his eyes continued to search around the room and I felt a wave of hope and relief washing over me. The kid had made it back scot-free.

"Wha - Who are you?"

Or not.