Chapter 5 – His Sucker Punches

Having your whole world thrown into chaos is never a good thing, but the thing about those moments where it seems like things can't get worse is that they always do. You are always thinking there is no way this could possible get worse and then your dog dies or the Red Wings lose or, if the day is being totally cliché, it starts raining. It's like even after you've had the rug ripped out from under your feet and you're lying stunned on the ground, there's someone standing over you and punching you in the gut every time you think you'll recover.

I knew that my mouth was open but at the moment my brain was just a little too stunned to do anything about it. Newbie was glancing from my gaping expression to Gandhi's and looking even more confused. He squirmed awkwardly under our stares and it was when he hissed in pain that I snapped out of it. My jaw closed so fast my teeth clicked painfully.

Gandhi suddenly let out a hesitant chuckle. "Ha, good one, V-Bear," he said, laughing in disbelief. There was something oddly forced in his tone. Denial. "Funny."

"What?" Newbie asked, his brow furrowing until that made him wince as well. "Ow, God, what happened? Where – where am I?"

Drawing back in every ounce of professionalism I could muster, I cleared my throat before Gumball could confuse the kid worse. "Sacred Heart hospital," I answered. There seemed to be some sort of recognition in the kid's eyes but he didn't react. "Well you hit your head pretty hard so I'm gonna ask you some questions, just to check everything's still working up there, okay?" I asked and received a sort of twitch I assumed was supposed to be a nod. "They're easy questions, no trivia. First off, do you know your name?"

Newbie's one eyebrow arched as he puzzled over this for a second and I felt my hopes fading. Oh god, the kid didn't even know his own name. "It's like – it's there I just can't get to it," Newbie said, clearly frustrated. "My head's all fuzzy."

"That's probably because of the gallon of morphine ya got in ya, Lucille." I instantly regretted snapping at the kid, and I got an angry glare from the scalpel jockey for it as well, but it was just what I did when I was upset. Coping mechanism. Newbie, my Newbie who'd been there like the plague for all those years, had no idea who I was and that hadn't quite sunk in just yet.

To my surprise, Newbie chuckled. Or at least I assumed it was a chuckle although it came out sounding like a hoarse choke. But he was smiling. "Okay, well I do know that's not my name, so that's something," he said simply. He cleared his throat, choking on a cough. "Hey can I get a glass of water or something?"

"Sure," I said, nodding. "Gandhi, fetch." The surgeon glared at me again but did as he was told.

Just after Gandhi had gotten past the door the kid suddenly smiled. "John," he said, grinning like an idiot at his little victory. "That's it. I'm John. Right?"

"Good job there, Patty," I said. Damn, I really needed to stop doing that. I had to remind myself that this wasn't my Newbie sitting there, this was a very confused patient who had no idea who I was, let alone that being called a girl's name was a daily occurrence. However I was once again surprised when the kid laughed.

"You know it's not every day your doctor calls you girls' names," Newbie said with a hint of humor. Oh the bitter irony in that.

"Sorry, bad habit," I said dismissively. I turned to grab the chart from the end of the bed and began perusing it blankly. I'd actually read it about a dozen times over the night, on top of having been the one to fill it out, but this was only so I had a reason to not be looking at Newbie. Seeing him made this harder. "Alright, kid, can you tell me what happened to you?"

"You're the doc, I thought that was your job," Newbie said with a bit of a sarcastic smile.

I couldn't help the quiet chuckle. "Nice one, smart ass," I said. "I'm testing your memory. Do you remember?"

The smile faded as the kid took on a more thoughtful look. "All I'm getting is panic and then pain. Some bright lights and then – darkness I think. Nothing clearer than that." Newbie frowned and then his smile suddenly came back, even if it was a little lazy from the drugs. "Was I hit by the train at the end of the tunnel?"

I tried very hard not to smile at that, before reminding myself the kid didn't remember that I worked hard to nawt find him funny. "Close," I conceded. "Car wreck."

"Hmm, my second guess." There was more silence as I pretended to make notes on the clipboard, even though the cap was still on my pen. "The other people, from the accident, were they okay?" Newbie asked suddenly, concerned.

"Yeah, he was fine," I said, barely disguising the anger that flared in me at this. "Had to get some stitches in his forehead but that's it. He's probably being discharged as we speak."

"Oh, good," Newbie said, smiling.

I laughed. "Newbie, you are a weird one," I said, shaking my head, ignoring the look of confusion at the nickname he obviously didn't recognize. "The guy nearly kills you when he steamrolls your car and you're just concerned about whether he got hurt."

"I'm that bad off?" Newbie stopped to glance down but laying prone he obviously couldn't see much of his body. "I can't tell. It's all sorta – fuzzy, and numb like my brain."

"That would be the morphine," I said. "We have you on a pretty high dosage or else you'd probably be in serious pain right now. Your left leg was broken in four places, you have a couple broken ribs and a total of eighty-something stitches including the fifty that are holding your head together since it was nearly split into two pieces."

Newbie winced. "Ouch, guess I did get the bad end," he said. "You sure don't sugar coat things much, do ya?" His eyelids were fluttering and he seemed to be putting a great deal of effort into keeping them up. "God I'm tired."

"Get some sleep," I said firmly. "Your body needs it to recover. When you wake up again I'll have the neurologist come up and finish your testing. Maybe you'll be able to remember a little better with some rest."

"Hmm, okay," Newbie said, his eyes already closing. "Thanks, uh…"

That simple hesitancy drove home the point that I'd been having a hard time grasping onto. Newbie really had no clue who I was. Sucker punch. "Dr. Cox," I offered.

"Right. Thanks, Dr. Cox." And within a matter of seconds Newbie was asleep again.

I was just walking back out of the room when Gandhi appeared with a paper cup full of ice chips. "Sorry, ice machine on this floor is empty again so I had to run down to the next floor," he said by way of answer, glancing past me into the room. "I – I suppose I'll just leave it on the table then." Gandhi went in to set the cup down and stayed at the bedside for a minute, staring down at his best friend. When he finally came back to stand outside with me he was rubbing at his eyes again.

"You gonna be alright there, Gumball?"

"He really doesn't remember me?" The note of desperation in his voice stirred the faintest sense of compassion in my chest. If I was feeling bad about Newbie forgetting us all, it couldn't be anything compared to the man who was practically married to him.

"Doesn't look like it," I admitted. "Probably a bit of retrograde amnesia from hitting his head. It may come back with time and rest but I don't know. These cases usually have a fifty-fifty chance. Guess we just gotta wait and see. When the neurologist gets a look at him I'll let you know what the verdict is."

"Thanks," Gandhi said. He was still looking just a little bit lost, like a kid who'd wandered away from his mom at the grocery store and only just realized he had no idea where she was.

"You need to take a bit of a break before you get to work?" I asked. "I can have them jumble your surgeries around if you don't think you can take it right now."

"Nah, gotta be doing something," Gandhi said. "Need to be doing somethin' with myself or I'm gonna go nuts worrying, ya know?"

I nodded. That, at least, was something I could understand and relate to. "I'll page you when we get some news," I said simply. Gandhi gave me a grateful nod and then left to start his day. I cast a short glance through the window into Newbie's room one last time before heading for my office. I had a lot to get done, starting with digging up Newbie's personnel files so I could finish filling out the charts as well as find a number to call his family.

In my office, I tossed the manila folders I'd been carrying onto the desk and headed to the filing cabinet in the corner. I grasped the handle of the top drawer, its off-white label proclaiming 'A-E' in sloppy black marker, and jerked it open. The dull rattle of the drawer as it glided clumsily out made me grit my teeth as the piercing shriek of metal on metal shot through my headache. Shaking it off, I found the folder marked 'Dorian, John M.' and pulled it out, opting to leave the drawer open so I wouldn't have to endure that noise again when I needed to put the folder away later. Then I sank down into my desk chair and flipped through the papers inside.

Most of it was a bunch of gibberish about the kid's different medical trainings and certifications. There were a few old forms from mortality and morbidity conferences and a suspension form with a large void stamped on it. Finally I found what I was looking for. Medical records from things like his appendectomy, the form from his most recent physical, and his personal contact information sheet.

Scanning down to the emergency contact number, I found myself uncertain whether to laugh or roll my eyes, so I settled on doing both.

'Name: Christopher Turk

Relation: Brotha'

"Oh God, Newbie, you're killing me," I said, shaking my head. However this presented a bit of a moral dilemma. Newbie had listed his emergency contact as Gandhi, so I was under no legal obligations to proceed any further now that the proper person was informed. But on the other hand I knew Dan and felt that the if-possible-more-moronic Dorian brother needed to know what had happened. The biggest road block? I had no idea how to get a hold of Dan, because there was no number and I couldn't just go in and ask Newbie because at the moment it seemed unlikely that the kid would even remember he had a brother.

Don't think like that, I chided himself mentally. When the kid wakes up he'll have remembered everything. It was just because of all the drugs. He's fine. I knew I was in denial but it was easier than having to deal with this right now. Deciding that there was nothing more I could do for now, I grabbed the medical paperwork and returned to Newbie's room. The kid was still sound asleep so I filled out the blank parts of the chart for pre-existing medical conditions and medicine allergies as best as I could.

A grumble from the bed made me look up, thinking Newbie had woken up again already, but the kid was still asleep. His face scrunched up and he muttered something groggily. I muffled my laugh. The kid was a sleep-talker. It wasn't that much of a surprise, really, but it was kind of amusing to know. I thought back, trying to remember if I'd ever heard the kid talking while he was asleep in the on-call room. No, it was mostly only those random outbursts when he got woken up or pulled out of Dolly DaydreamLand.

"Cox."

The word stopped me short. For a second I was wondering whether the kid had said my name or 'cocks' but I quickly brushed that away. As much as I ridiculed the kid's femininity, I didn't actually think he was gay enough to talk about stuff like that in his sleep. But the reality still struck me. In his dreams the kid was calling out for me. Just like Newbie always had every waking moment he'd spent in this hospital. Newbie couldn't remember who I was, but he still needed me. Sucker punch again.

"Cox."

Approaching the bed, I leaned over and lowered my voice. "What is it, Newbie?" I asked in a whisper.

There were a few unintelligible mumbles but I caught the last word. "…lost." Double gut punch. In his vulnerable state, Newbie was calling out for his mentor to help him. He'd just forgotten his entire world, essentially lost everything he'd ever known he had, and he wanted my help. And damn it, I'd used the 'm' word again and not even noticed.

"I know, kid," I said slowly. "I know you're lost but we're gonna get you through this. You're gonna get better and then you won't be lost. I'll help you, I promise it."

Newbie seemed to relax at this and the creases at the corners of his eyes eased. He murmured something more but I didn't catch it, and then the kid was as still as the dead while he slept on. There was the ghost of a smile on his face as he dreamed. I rolled my eyes and left the room, wondering how anyone in the world could have dreams and be anxious enough to sleep-talk while there was that much morphine being systematically pumped into their systems. But then again, it didn't surprise me much that the person to be so unconventional and against humanity's norm would be Newbie. He always had been one of a kind, in his weird, quirky, highly effeminate way.

I threw myself into my work for the rest of the morning, dealing with patients instead of paperwork because sitting at a desk was too stagnant and allowed me to get sidetracked, although I had to down another coffee every two hours to keep myself conscious after my four hours of sleep for a horribly trying day. Whenever I passed, I would peek into Newbie's room but the kid was still out like a light even five hours after he'd gone to sleep. Even with my shortened fuse, my bedside manner might have been improved because I felt just too drained to give out the lectures to the idiotic patients who seemed to be hell-bent on destroying their own lives by smoking or eating their own weight in red meat every day or ignoring the strange rash they were developing until their skin started falling off. By the time I finally got my lunch break at three, I was in no mood for company and I took my food up to the roof.

It was another unexpected blow to the head to step up onto that roof. It was the last place I'd seen Newbie before the accident. The place where I'd tried to convince the kid to help himself out by getting some much needed sleep. The place where I had self-sabotaged my own plan and wound up with a faceful of spit and a whiplash of hatred. The place where I'd said those bitter, condescending words that would be the last Newbie heard from me before nearly dying. The place where I'd been so sure that Newbie would thank me for it all later. I was now seriously doubting that Newbie would thank me if he knew the accident was my fault.

Crossing to the ledge where Newbie had been standing the night before, I set my lunch on the concrete and leaned against it. I stared down into the parking lot, full of far more cars than the last time I'd seen it, and at the meds vs. surgeon basketball game going on below me. My appetite was poor but the gnawing sensation in my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten in about twenty hours and my medical instincts were flashing red lights at me. I ate the sandwich without much enthusiasm and sipped at the fruit juice, wishing desperately that it was a scotch. At least the alcohol would dull the ache in my chest from receiving so many invisible right hooks in the last twenty-four hours.