Author's Note: Still loving hearing from you all, so thank you for leaving me little notes! And now for one of my infamous Hospital Scenes. ;-)
Warning: Some mild coarse language in this chapter.
"Hey, Jeff, you got to quit getting shot, buddy."
Ethan Choi's teasing grin was almost cathartic as the ED doctor pulled on his gloves and patted Jeff's shoulder. Even more of a relief, he felt comfortable here, in the hospital; like it was home.
"I believe the last time was your fault, Squid."
"Well, next time we get a patient with a loaded fire arm lodged in his rectum, I'll make you remove it, Grunt."
Jeff laughed and then hissed in pain. Everything was connected in the human body, but you didn't really realize exactly what that meant until you'd been shot in the hip and laughing shook every part of you, jarring the wound with the bullet still inside.
"Fentanyl," Dr. Choi instructed the nurse. She was newer but had a friendly demeanor. Was her name Stephanie?
"No." Jeff grabbed his friend's forearm. "The paramedics already gave me some morphine. And I don't want to lose consciousness again. I want to know how Sa- Dr. Reese is doing."
"Both Will and Natalie are taking care of her." He squeezed Jeff's shoulder. And he didn't look too concerned. But he'd whisked Jeff off to a room to patch him up. He really had no idea how the other patient, one of their own doctors, was doing.
"But if he drugged her with GHB... Her gag reflex could be compromised. They should intubate her. And she needs to be closely monitored. She could suffer seiz-"
"They know all of that. She will be fine." Choi was good at placation without condescension, but Jeff's stomach was still in a knot. "Don't make me sedate you… Med students make worse patients even than doctors."
Jeff tried to calm down, but his heart was racing. And not from the pain or the... killing someone. But because it felt like hadn't completed his duty yet, like he had unfinished business, because Sarah might still be in danger. He'd always felt compelled to help others, but he'd never felt so ridiculously protective of anyone before.
What was it about Sarah Reese that made him just want to pull her into his arms and never let her go? There wasn't anything particularly vulnerable about her. True, she was slender and looked even younger than she was (which was already quite a bit younger than him). But there was a fierce intelligence and tenacity in her. And her curious nature implied she possessed an adventurous side that when combined with her soft femininity... Fuck. Jeff wanted her. If they were okay, when they were both okay, he was going to let her know that in no uncertain terms. He had to let her know that if she wanted him in any way, shape or form, she could have him. Willingly. For a few hours or a few days, a few weeks, months, years… forever.
Because the thing was, he might have this primal, territorial urge when it came to Sarah, but it was because she'd already somehow claimed part of him. He was drawn to her like she'd somehow stolen a part of his soul. And he needed her to feel complete...
"Well, the bullet didn't move around on you, so that's a good thing," Choi said, interrupting his meandering thoughts. God, he needed to get a grip. The pain medication and shock of being shot must be making him loopy. "Looks like it might be stuck in the periosteum, though."
Jeff blinked and tried to focus his eyes on the X-Ray on display. He was confident enough in Ethan's abilities he would've been fine if the ED doctor just dove in after the stupid .22 slug. But the man was thorough, had done the prelim x-ray just to be safe. And yeah, there the little bastard was, in his hip.
"Is that a fracture?" he asked.
"We'll have to get a CT, but yeah, it looks like a hairline fracture in the illium." Choi gave him a reassuring smile. "Could've been a lot worse. No blood vessels were compromised. And the fracture should heal up on its own once we get the bullet out of there and stitch you up."
Right. It would have to heal up on its own. There was nothing that really could be done for it.
"Hey, doc, how's the hero doing?" Jay Halstead popped into the room, but lingered near the door.
"Idiot might be walking with a limp for a while, but maybe that will finally teach him to jump in front of bullets," Choi said before plunging the forceps into the bullet hole. Jeff clenched his teeth against the wave of pain like he'd been stabbed. But again, the former-Navy doctor was highly skilled at treating GSWs, he yanked the little bastard out with one clean movement, pressing down a wad of gauze to staunch the blood flow.
There was a grimace on the detective's face, one that was beyond just basic sympathy. Jeff would consider it a safe bet the man had first hand experience of getting bullets yanked from his own flesh.
"I'm gonna need that bullet for evidence," Jay said.
Dr. Choi frowned. Shit. Was this going to be an issue? Jeff thought it was a pretty clear case for self-defense, but-
"Just need to make sure the paperwork and everything lines up. Voight's already signed off on the report... that I haven't even had the chance to write up yet." The cop Halstead brother rolled his eyes. The Intelligence Unit was notorious for doing things more by the gut than the book. None more so than their sergeant. But obviously, it worked. Or else he couldn't see the ex-Army Ranger being a member of the unit. "You just focus on healing up."
Choi bagged the bullet and handed it off.
"Hey, Jay." Jeff caught him before he could make his exit. "Thanks. You saved Sarah's life with that information you dug up."
"No, man, that save was all you."
And then the detective was gone and Choi was stitching him up and the world was getting a little hazy. And he was feeling really sleepy... Had they slipped him some opiate anyway? He wouldn't put it past the ED staff, trying to look out for his best interests... But he couldn't fall asleep, not before he knew…
"How's Sarah doing?"
Choi smoothed down the medical tape over the bandage, but Jeff caught the nod he gave Nurse Stephanie before she scurried off.
"Stephanie's going to check and let you know," he said, removing his bloodied gloves and tossing them away so he could lay a hand on Jeff's shoulder. "You're going to have to take it easy until that fracture heals up, but you're going to be fine. I'll see if I can't find you a pair of scrubs to change into... Sorry about the jeans."
They'd cut them up pretty good to get access to the bullet wound. But it wasn't at all what he cared about at the moment. Stephanie was taking way too long. He tried to sit up, but Ethan pushed down on his shoulder, and the shorter man was quite strong. Also, Jeff was fairly certain now that they'd given him a sedative. The sneaky bastards.
"C'mon, Clarke. Give yourself at least a few minutes to recover." Choi was a good guy. And unfortunately, he understood what drove Jeff. "Your mission is complete. Dr. Reese is safe."
"I want to see her... I want..."
His eyes closed despite himself. He trusted Dr. Halstead and Natalie and the rest of the Med staff. Sarah was okay. She would be okay. He could check on her later and…
...
"Sarah? Sarah, can you open your eyes, sweetie?"
It was like suddenly finding herself twenty feet underwater in a dark, murky lake. Water rushing in her ears, everything dim and hazy, and pressing down on her, around her. She swam for the light at the surface.
The light was a beautiful woman's face, smiling, relieved and yet worried.
Dr. Manning?
There was something in her throat. She couldn't speak. She began to panic. And then there were hands grasping hers, small, soft but reassuring, preventing her from yanking the tube out of her mouth and throat.
"You're okay, Sarah. We had to intubate you but I'm going to remove it now. Alright?"
Sarah nodded as much as the apparatus strapped to her face would allow.
"You remember how this works, don't you?" Natalie said with a smile. Sarah could see why she was a pediatric specialist. She was a calming authority figure. Confident and compassionate. People of all ages responded to it. And feeling confused and terrified at the shocking awakening, Sarah was definitely appreciative of the woman's calming effect.
She removed the tube, and it was a crazy sensation. Really, they probably didn't need to prompt the patient to cough, it kind of just reflexively happened. And there was a bright side to this whole insane, anxiety-inducing situation she'd found herself in... Now she knew what it was like first hand to wake up on a breathing tube.
"Wh-" Her voice was an unrecognizable rasp. And then Dr. Manning was holding a straw to her lips, offering her some cool water to parch her raw throat.
"What happened?" Sarah tried again, finding her voice more able.
"We were hoping you might be able to tell us." There was quite a crowd in her little room, including a familiar face that was a little unsettling to find.
"Detective Lindsey?" Dr. Manning stepped back and the petite detective moved closer to Sarah's bed side. Was that Dr. Halstead's brother, the detective, lingering near the door, conversing with Will? And Dr. Charles was at her other side.
"Am I dying or something?" she asked, bewildered over all the people looking grim.
"No. They tell me you'll make a full recovery, Sarah," the female detective said in her husky voice. "But what's the last thing you remember?"
"Um...?" What was the last thing she remembered. "I got done my shift and went home... And..." A little alarm beeped on the monitors as her rate quickened along with her breathing. "I don't know..."
She looked from Detective Lindsey's sympathetic face to Dr. Manning's to Dr. Charles, normally so unreadable but frowning with concern.
"Why can't I remember? Did I have an aneurysm or something? Why won't you tell me what happened?"
Detective Lindsey took her hand, but it was as reassuring as Dr. Manning's bedside manner. "Because we need to hear it in your words, Sarah."
"What? Why?" A flash of terror struck her and her chest suddenly felt tight. The alarm bleeped again.
"Is she okay?" Lindsey looked genuinely concerned. The female doctor gently pushed the detective out of the way to examine Sarah.
"I... Can't... Breathe..."
"It's not physical." Dr. Manning pronounced her verdict.
"She's having a panic attack," Dr. Charles stepped in. "Focus on me Sarah. You're safe. You understand that you're safe here. Just close your eyes and think about the last time you felt calm and content."
She nodded and closed her eyes, trying not to think about the tightness in her chest and the feeling like she was suffocating. Calm and safe. Go someplace calm and safe.
Aftershave that smelled like fresh linen mixing with a sooty-sweaty scent. Strength. Security. Warm, confident hands... Blue-grey eyes and a heart-melting smirk. It wasn't a place. It was a person.
Jeff Clarke.
That moment when the tip of his nose brushed against hers and she thought he was about to kiss her, wanted him to kiss her, yearned for it...
"What's going on here?"
She opened her eyes, her heart skipping a beat for an entirely different reason. To her addled brain, it seemed as if she'd summoned the man with her subconscious.
"Dr. Reese is awake," Dr. Manning said, looking nervous. In fact they all seemed rather nervous at the tall man's appearance... But was he leaning on a crutch?
"And someone was just about to tell me," Jeff said, his steel colored eyes dark and rather intimidating. But his expression softened entirely when it fell on Sarah, and she felt a little bloom of warmth in her belly.
"Yes, of course," his former girlfriend said. "The detectives just had a couple of questions..."
"Uh, we can do this later." Jay Halstead coaxed the female detective out of the room, snagging his brother's sleeve along the way and reducing the crowd in Sarah's room by half.
Natalie cleared her throat. "Physically, she's perfectly fine, Jeff. Still a little dehydrated, but she'll be ready to be discharged in a few hours."
Why was she giving her report to a med student like... like he was the family? Sarah apparently was missing time. What had happened during that period?
"How long was I out of it?" she asked of her mentor, who gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her shoulder.
"Honestly, Sarah, it's been two days."
"T-two days?" He gave her a little nod and she squeezed her eyes shut. She wouldn't have another panic attack. She wouldn't. She opened them.
"I'm going to go do my rounds..." Dr. Charles said, glancing aside at Jeff Clarke still looming at the foot of her bed. "And then we can talk, if you'd like. I know you're confused right now, Sarah. But you are safe. And maybe Jeff can fill in some gaps for you."
Sarah nodded, reached for her mentor's hand and squeezed it. "Thank you."
"I'll be back soon." He patted her hand with his other one, and whispered something to Jeff on the way out... Something that sobered the man and made Sarah curious as hell. But there was far bigger mysteries making her feel completely insane.
After the room had cleared out, Jeff shifted, readjusting the crutch under his left arm, making her feel guilty. She scooched over and patted the mattress beside her.
"You should sit down." He beamed at her. He had a genuinely beautiful smile that lit up his entire face.
"Thanks," he said, setting the crutch aside and reaching for her hand. "You feeling okay?"
"I'm feeling confused," she said. "What happened to you? What happened to me?"
The obvious joy faded from his eyes and his lips pressed into a grim line. He chewed his bottom lip and sighed.
"Derek was stalking you. I asked Jay Halstead to look into him, and... I went to your apartment. He'd drugged you and..."
Ugh. She felt sick to her stomach. And that terror edging in again. But she could do this. She could. Especially with his warm hand pouring his strength into her.
"Wh-what did he do to me?"
"He.. um..."
Oh, god. She squeezed her eyes shut, tried to do an internal inventory. Did she feel...Would she feel... it?
"No, Sarah. No. It wasn't like that. At least, I caught him before he could..." His grip was tightening on her hand, but she didn't complain. She was afraid of what would happen if he let her go. "He'd dressed you up in a wedding gown and was dancing with you."
A flash of memory struck her, but it was fleeting, gone as soon as it had come, leaving only a sense of fear and helplessness in its wake.
She took a shaky breath.
"Are you okay?" The amount of concern in his steel blue eyes was nearly as overwhelming as finding out she had no memory, that she had been drugged and possibly assaulted.
"Yes."
But she wasn't okay. She really, really wasn't okay. Someone had violated her home and her person and she couldn't even remember. And if it hadn't been for Jeff-
Suddenly, she was being pulled into his arms. And -oh, god- the rest of him was just as strong and warm as his hands. It was like being enveloped in... Comfort and Security... He smelled so good. And felt so good. The anxiety melted away, was even replaced with a little twinge of something close to desire. Okay. It was desire. Desire to be wrapped up in him forever.
She snaked her arms beneath his, around his middle, and he pulled her further into his embrace until she was almost in his lap. His five o'clock shadow rasped against her smooth cheek. It was an interesting sensation and she turned into it testing the feel of the stubble against her lips. It tickled and tingled and she couldn't help herself, she turned the touch into a kiss, followed it with several others down his neck. He made a noise, part growl and part moan, stifled in his throat and chest. His hand was large and so warm on her back. And his fingers started to knead her back.
His response was more than encouraging and before she could even think about what she was doing, she was sucking and nipping at his neck. She'd just been unconscious for two days with a ventilator tube stuck down her throat because some mentally disturbed patient had roofied her and she couldn't remember any of it and the world was out of control, out of her control, but she didn't care. She didn't care because Jeff Clarke made sense. He was comfort and certainty and contentment. He was her safe place.
And he might just be her bliss as well.
She moaned her displeasure when he gently eased her away, disentangling the IV tubing that had wound around them during their embrace and tucking her back in. The disappointment had to be apparent on her face, but how the man felt about what had just happened was decidedly not.
"I'm sorry," she said, taking his hand and trying to get him to look at her. When he did, she was honestly relieved (and a little bit frightened) by the look of raw need in his eyes.
"Please, don't be sorry for that, Sarah." His voice was soft and low and just a little bit husky, and it did things to her insides that seemed quite inappropriate for a woman lying in a hospital bed. He fixed the blanket to cover her and leaned in, kissing her forehead. "I'll take you home when you're discharged, if you want."
"I'd like that," she said, blushing a little. A wince of pain fleeted across his face as he straightened again, and she realized he had never told her what happened to him. "Can you drive? Why do you need the crutch?"
He pulled the mobility aid to him and got to his feet with a little hiss, seeming like he wasn't going to answer.
"Jeff...?"
"I got shot... Again, as Dr. Choi likes to point out." He gave her a wry smile which only slightly mitigated her distress over the news. She sat up, ready to get out of bed and... what? He'd obviously already been taken care of... But she felt an instinctive need to take care of him herself. To really take care of him.
"Derek?" she asked, her voice small. He nodded, his expression sobered. What the hell had happened? She just... "I don't remember anything."
"I know," he said. "That's not necessarily a bad thing."
She frowned. Was he insane? It was driving her crazy. She felt stupid and anxious because there was a hole in her memory, in her life. The situation had been so outside of her control, it was unimaginable. That was the worst part. She had been totally helpless.
If it hadn't been for Jeff and his damned White Knight Syndrome... She supposed that was derogatory, as she watched her personal hero hobble away, injured because of her. In psychiatry Savior Complex or White Knight Syndrome was a term for a dysfunctional sort of personality, one that sought a highly dependent partner, emotionally and otherwise. And Jeff didn't really seem that type. He was protective, yes, but not controlling.
If things between them were headed in the direction she thought they were... She just might be able to figure him out first hand.
Sarah slumped back into the bed, trying to ignore the heat flooding her face and the rest of her skin, trying to think of something besides the man making her feel uncommonly warm. The only problem was somehow he'd become her safe place, the thought that calmed her.
Damn. She was so screwed.
A/N: Well, admitting their feelings to themselves is a start…
A/N2: Question… Would you like some Clarke/Reese smut? Or would you be happy without a love scene and just T-rating conclusion?
