ImSoCooliPissIceCubes – Sorry for the anxiety!
smg55 – I'm glad you appreciate the cliffhanger, I'm never sure because I usually get mixed feedback when I use them because I only post once weekly. Thanks so much for all of your feedback, it means so much!
FivebyFive89 – I used to think I'd prefer headaches to nausea, then I got a bout of them that painkillers wouldn't touch – they're horrible! Don't worry, I'm still committed to as little doom and gloom as possible!
ClauIloveDimitriBelikov – Thank you, I'm glad you enjoy it! The kitten board is still there but we're having trouble with the servers sometimes – some people say doing this helps clear the ad page:
On windows run ipconfig /flushdns from a command prompt
and from a mac run sudo killall -HUP mDNSResponder
If that doesn't work, keep trying to access the page – you should get in eventually. I'm sorry for the non-permanent solution for now, but it's being worked on.
She turned back around and her eyes flashed with fury when she saw Tara wasn't standing there any longer. She slammed the milk down on the counter and rounded the corner out of the kitchen.
"Don't you dare walk away from me when we're–" she started, nearly screaming, but stopped when she saw her girlfriend's body lying unconscious where she had been standing, "Tara?"
She dropped to her knees and turned Tara over to see her face, tapping her cheeks urgently for some kind of response.
"Tara?"
The panic came quickly and she shook Tara forcefully, to nothing.
"Baby!"
Willow cradled Tara's unconscious head in her lap, trying to pat some colour into her ashen face.
It felt like hours rather than minutes since she'd called 911 and babbled everything to them, and Tara hadn't shown any sign of life since; apart from erratic, shallow breathing.
Willow brushed the hair away from her girlfriend's brow.
"I promise if you wake up, I won't yell again," she said pleadingly, leaning her head down and making her tears flow from her own cheeks onto Tara's, "And I won't get mad when you leave the cap off the toothpaste and I won't finish the orange juice and put it back in the fridge and I'll make sure I match the right socks with each other when I do the laundry, not just put any two white ones together."
Their noses were touching and wet with Willow's tears.
"Please wake up."
The buzzer rang out through the room and Willow carefully laid Tara's head back on the ground before rushing to let the paramedics in. She held the door open as she heard them pound up the stairs. One man and one woman came in and Willow kept the door open as they loaded Tara onto the stretcher.
"Does she have any medical problems? Does she take any medications?" the woman asked, securing Tara's feet.
Willow shook her head.
"She's been popping Tylenol for a headache and she was throwing up last night."
"Did she report any pain in her chest before collapsing?" the woman asked.
Willow held a hand up helplessly.
"She said she wasn't feeling well. It was all very quick."
They brought her downstairs and Willow followed.
"Any allergies?" the man asked as the woman went around the ambulance to drive.
"Just shrimp," Willow answered, her eyes still streaming, "I have an EpiPen for her but last time she had a reaction her face swelled and her throat closed up. It wasn't like this."
She started to climb in to the ambulance, but was refused.
"I'm sorry, no room."
He started to shut the doors and Willow screamed after him.
"Where are you taking her!?"
He called back the name of the hospital, but Willow hadn't heard of it. She patted herself down for her phone to do a GPS search and realised she didn't have it. She rushed upstairs, finding to her sheer relief the door hadn't quite locked closed behind her, since her keys were sitting on the table inside.
Smoke was starting to come from the dinner she'd abandoned, so Willow hurried over to turn it all off and dump the burnt pot in the sink.
Next she grabbed her wallet, keys and phone and pulled up a map as she skated back down the stairs onto the street.
She cursed under her breath as the map loaded. She couldn't walk, or even run the route and it wasn't on a bus or T line.
Why did they have to take her to the most of the way place, there's more than 20 hospitals in this city!
She ran to the nearest ATM to take money out for a cab but it was the end of the month and they were waiting on Tara's pay check. It just wasn't there for her to take out.
She slammed her fists against the machine and kicked the wall, which just made her stub her toe. She limped off, embarrassed by the people staring at her and backed up against a wall. She head her head in her hands and tried to think, then took her phone back out and dialled a number.
"Becky?" she asked, her voice high pitched and slightly hysterical, "Becky, Tara collapsed and they brought her to hospital and I can't get there and I'm really sorry but can you come get me because–thank you, thank you. I'll wait outside my building."
She went back to wait and Becky diligently pulled up after about 10 minutes, when really it could easily take at least 15 to 20 to get from her place.
Willow got in and belted up.
"I have directions, here, see."
Becky scanned the map and turned off to the right street.
"What happened?"
Willow rubbed her temple.
"She's been working herself to breaking point. She just came home and collapsed."
Becky just reached over and squeezed Willow's knee.
"She's gonna be okay."
Willow nodded in appreciation for the reassurance. Becky took the phone from her and rested it against the shift stick so she could see, following the map to the hospital. She pulled up on the curb in the set down area.
"Call me with news and/or when you need a ride home. I don't care if it's the middle of the night."
Willow crumbled under the kindness.
"Thank you."
Becky put a hand on Willow's shoulder.
"Hey," she comforted, "She's okay. Go in there and hold her hand."
Willow swiped at her eyes.
"Becky, thank you so much for the ride."
"Any time," Becky replied sincerely.
They embraced across the car until Becky got the look from the security guard to move on. Willow thanked her again and jumped out to walk into the ER.
She approached the desk, biting the skin around her nails.
"I-I'm looking for Tara Maclay, she was brought here in an ambulance."
"If you wait over there, someone will be out to talk to you shortly," the triage nurse answered in a bored tone as she handed over a clipboard, "Please fill out the insurance details."
Willow took the clipboard and found a seat amongst the other anxious families and patients waiting to be seen. There was an odd smell of blood and sterility that didn't seem to lift no matter where in the room she took a seat.
She had Tara's details saved in her wallet after their first emergency trip to the hospital and had kept them updated when Tara started work and changed providers. She scribbled everything down and returned it, then went back to sit and continue biting her nails nervously.
To distract herself, she took out her phone and researched the hospital. On their homepage, she saw they were the leading centre for brain injuries, which panicked her. She jumped up again and rushed over to the desk.
"Can't you tell me anything?"
The nurse looked up jadedly, but not without some heart.
"I'll chase someone up for you, okay? What was the name?"
"Tara," Willow answered gratefully, "Maclay."
The nurse nodded and picked up the phone. Willow slunk back to her seat and hid her phone away to stop from scaring herself any more.
Her fingertips tapped together for several tense minutes until something pricked her ears.
"Maclay?"
Willow jumped up and ran over to the male doctor in blue scrubs. He motioned her through the doors into the ER.
"Come on through," he said, walking and talking fast, "She woke up, but we've sedated her again. Her CT scan was clear and we've run blood tests to check for infection or inflammation. Maybe you can give us some more background."
Willow nodded and increased her step to keep up.
"Sure, anything," she replied, unable to stop a nervous lilt in her tone, "I got worried when I saw you guys are the brain injury place."
"There was a concern because of her symptoms obviously, so that's why she was diverted here," the doctor explained, bringing Willow to a single room at the very end of the corridor, "But we don't treat head injuries exclusively, we just have a specialty team. Our ER team here is trauma and general medicine and we treat every ER injury you can imagine. We don't have any reason for her to be specially assessed by the brain injury team."
Willow exhaled a sigh of relief, then felt a punch in the gut when she stepped into the room and saw Tara hooked up to the machines. She rushed over and stood above her, gently rubbing Tara's arm.
The doctor picked up the chart and checked the drip bag.
"The intake said she's been having headaches and she seemed in a lot of pain when she woke up. Do you know how long that's been going on? She was quite confused too."
"I suppose a few weeks," Willow answered quietly, still focused on Tara, "Really bad in the last week or so, all the time. She rarely takes pills but she was taking one after the other."
"What kind?" the doctor asked.
"Um, Tylenol," Willow replied.
"And when you say one after the other?" the doctor prompted.
"Oh, she wasn't overdosing," Willow clarified, "She's careful with stuff like that."
The doctor nodded.
"Any other symptoms?"
"She was vomiting all night and she's been so stressed," Willow recalled, her eyes never leading Tara's lids in the hope they would open, even knowing she was out cold, "Irritable and frustrated. Not sleeping. Barely eating. Did you say she woke up?"
The doctor scribbled on the chart and checked his watch.
"We sedated her. She was quite distressed. We'll be keeping her in overnight for observation. She'll likely sleep all night, so there's no need for you to stay."
"Can I?" Willow asked, squeezing Tara's hand more firmly.
"If you want. The ER is more lax with family visiting hours since we go all night," the doctor advised, "I'm about to go into shift change, so another doctor will be taking over for me."
There was no question in Willow's mind whether she was staying or not, so she just nodded again. She heard the door open and close and realised there was a chair there. She sat in and scooted close, holding Tara's hand between both of hers.
She looked at the heart and respiratory monitor and was soothed by the even beat. She had to fight a shudder being in the room and swallow her revulsion for hospitals so as not to add any negative energy into room.
She wasn't sure how into 'energy' she really was, but she knew Tara was, and she'd do anything if it added to her recovery.
The fluorescent lights overhead flickered and blinked, so Willow pulled the chain on the small light above the bed to turn it on and turned off the big ones. She knew how much Tara had been avoiding the light lately.
She sat back and rested her head alongside Tara's, inhaling softly from her sweet-smelling hair and found herself singing the only song she'd ever sang for her girlfriend.
Her tone was so low it was almost a hum and voice carried a sadness not usually reserved for the song in question.
"You are my sunshine. My only sunshine. You make me ha-ppy when skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. So please don't take my sunshine away."
Minutes, possibly hours ticked by and Willow wondered about maybe closing her eyes, since Tara was seemingly out for the night. She was working out the right angle for her to swing her feet up and lean back on her chair without disturbing Tara when a nurse came in.
She was older, portly and probably as close to a stereotype as you could get. She flicked on all the lights to an annoyed brow furrow from Willow.
"Now, now, who do we have here?" the nurse asked, looking at Tara's chart, attaching something and checking the drip bags like the doctor had done, "Everything looking good here. Were you told you could go home?"
"I'd rather stay," Willow replied, trying not to be curt.
The nurse didn't seem too pleased at having to deal with more than just her patients.
"Don't worry about your sister. She's getting good care."
"She's not my sister," Willow replied absently, "She's my girlfriend."
The nurse's whole demeanour changed, displaying none of the caring nature her profession was known for.
"I'm afraid visiting hours are over for non-family members."
Willow looked up tiredly.
"The, the doctor said I could say. That the hours were more lax."
The nurse didn't budge.
"Just because the doctor doesn't follow the rules doesn't mean they don't exist. I will have to insist," she said in a haughty tone, that made Willow sure she was enjoying this, "Or I will have to have you forcibly removed."
Willow had no idea how they'd jumped to that point so quickly.
"Look, I'm not doing her any harm," she reasoned, then fixed the nurse with a steely gaze, "I'm. Not. Leaving. Her."
The nurse made a huffing sound and left. Willow went over and flicked the lights back off, but as she turned to go back to her seat, the nurse reappeared with a security guard. He immediately went to manhandle her, which made Willow think the nurse had made something up to get her kicked out so forcefully.
"Hey!" she objected, trying to resist his grip, "Hey, get off me! Get off me!"
An elbow, slightly accidentally, hit the security guard in the groin, making him grab his crotch and groan. A tall woman in a white coat with messy brown hair tied up in a bun and a stethoscope around her neck clacked down the hallway with an indignant look on her face.
"What is going on here, this is a sleeping patient!" she said, stepping in and spotting who was in the bed, "Tara?"
Willow, the nurse and the security guard were at odds, so the new doctor stepped between them all and took charge.
"I'll take care of this. Stephen, I think you can take a long break," she said to the security guard, who grumbled and went off.
The doctor eyeballed the nurse when she didn't move.
"Mary, I said I would take care of this."
She gave the nurse a look that said she was sick of having to deal with her without actually vocalising it, and almost challenged her to give her a reason to go to HR.
Mary made some self-important remark about caring for her patients and stomped off. The doctor let the door hit her on the way out, while Willow was still brushing herself off.
Willow looked at the doctor, caught her breath and tried to be respectful for the sake of pleading her case.
"I'm sorry I shoved your security guy but you can't make me leave her. I won't leave her. I'm so sick of people saying I'm not her family, I am, I'm all she has."
She sank back into the chair and re-took Tara's hand.
"She's all I have."
The doctor came over and picked up Tara's chart, briefly skimmed it, then stood opposite Willow on Tara's other side.
"Are you Willow?"
Willow looked up in surprise.
"Yeah. How did you know that?"
The doctor smiled kindly.
"I've had to call Tara in on a few cases. We've grabbed a coffee. She's mentioned you," she explained and offered her hand, "I'm Dr. Bradshaw. Meg, not Carrie."
Willow shook it weakly, not from avoidance, just despondency.
"Please don't make me leave."
The doctor sighed, looked at the chart and folded her arms lightly across her chest.
"Well looking at this it seems Tara needs her rest. I'll mark her room as doctor review only so her door isn't being opened and closed all night and letting the light in."
One of her eyebrows arched and she looked directly at Willow.
"That means I'll be the only one in here monitoring her. No one else will be disturbing her. No one else will be coming in here."
Willow understood what the doctor was doing for her and humbly and gratefully nodded.
"I'll stay quiet," she whispered.
Dr. Bradshaw felt for Willow and the stupid rules that governed the hospital. She flipped the chart to check if the bloodwork had come back and found it at the back.
"You know, I have this awful habit of reading out loud," she said to herself, "Patient's bloodwork has come back clear. I wonder if she's had any sensitivity to light?"
Willow looked up and vigorously nodded.
"Yes, she did. She had all the lights dimmed all the time and when she was throwing up I turned the light on and she practically passed out."
"And I would have to wonder if there had been any change in her medications or diet, changes in her routine, sleep, work, stress?" the doctor asked, still not looking at Willow.
"She's been working crazy hard with really difficult cases," Willow answered, "All day and all night."
Dr. Bradshaw wrote on Tara's chart.
"Well, if her family were here, I'd tell them that I suspect she's suffering from migraines brought on by stress."
"Migraines?" Willow asked.
"Which can be isolated events and may not occur again after rest and recuperation," Dr. Bradshaw continued.
Willow face flooded with relief.
"So she's going to be okay?"
The doctor finally met Willow's eye.
"That's what I would tell her family, yes."
Willow mouthed 'thank you' and the doctor gave her a sly wink, put the chart back down and left. Minutes later, she returned dragging an old recliner chair like they put in children's wards for parents to sleep in at night.
"This old chair was getting in the way. I'll have to store it in here for the night."
Willow almost burst into tears at the kindness being extended to her, in such contrast to the altercation with the nurse. The recliner felt like a king bed compared to the crappy little side chair and Willow was able to bring it close enough to still hold Tara's hand. She hid her shoes under the bed so there would be no tripping and turned off the light above Tara's head.
There was still a glow in the room from the machines and light coming through the frosted glass in the door, but Willow was happy to be able to make out Tara's face.
She pressed a kiss to her own fingers, then against Tara's lips.
"Love you, baby. I'll never leave you."
Tara eyelids were heavy as they tried to open.
They slowly blinked open and she weakly lifted a hand to try and aid them.
Willow was stirred by the brushing against her hand and she woke up a bit faster, even more so when she saw her girlfriend's eyes were opening.
"Tara," she said, pushing herself up and wiping her mouth for drool, "Tara, baby. How are you, are you okay? You're in the hospital."
Tara mumbled Willow's name and Willow got her a cup of water from the water fountain in the corner.
"Here, baby, drink this."
She pressed the call button while she helped Tara drink.
Dr. Bradshaw peered around the door a minute or two later, and walked in fully when she saw Tara awake and responding.
She approached and checked the monitor.
"Hi Tara."
Tara's sleepy eyes blinked in the doctor's direction.
"Meg?"
"Hey Tara," the doctor repeated with some more familiarity this time, "How are you feeling? You know where you are?"
Tara remembered Willow mentioning the hospital and had flashes of the night before.
"A little groggy," she answered eventually.
"Headache?" the doctor asked.
Tara was thoroughly surprised and delighted to find that she, in fact, did not have a headache.
"Not right now."
"Any pain or discomfort?" the doctor asked and Tara shook her head, "You remember being brought in here?"
"Vaguely," Tara answered, "What happened?"
"Before you collapsed, did you experience a sort of gradual disorientation, flashing lights, a ringing in your ear or distorted vision before the bad head pain?" the doctor enquired.
Tara nodded surely.
"All of it."
The doctor nodded back.
"That's called a migraine aura."
"So I had a migraine?" Tara asked, eyes creasing.
"I'm confident in that, yes," Dr. Bradshaw replied, "The good news is, if yours was brought on from stress then it's likely to go away when that stress is removed. If you do continue getting them, then we might have to look at other triggers. But that's not something to worry about right now."
Tara suddenly felt a rush of exhaustion again.
"Oh."
Dr. Bradshaw patted Tara's shoulder.
"Keep resting. I'll check on you again before I get off shift, and you can go this afternoon, I think, if the migraine stays subsided. But rest for now."
Tara was asleep again before the doctor had even finished speaking, so she turned her attention to Willow.
"She's going to need a few days off work. Sleeping well, eating well, relaxing. I'm going to prescribe a sedative for night time and I need you to make sure she's resting."
"I'll make sure she gets it. I'll call her boss right now," Willow vowed, then looked at her watch quickly and saw the early hour, "Well. Maybe in an hour."
"Good idea," the doctor replied.
"Thank you so much for everything," Willow said sincerely, aware of how much more difficult her night may have been.
The doctor nodded, offered a smile and headed back out into the ER, leaving Willow to watch over Tara, feeling much lighter having seen her awake.
She kept holding Tara's hand, just as she always would.
Tara was sitting up in bed, feeling stronger than she had a few hours earlier.
She was waiting on Willow to bring them back breakfast and was anxious because Willow wouldn't let her have her phone. If she had been physically capable, she would have walked right out of the ER but her body was still recovering from the collapse. There was the beginning of a pulsating pain furrowing its way into her temple again.
The doors swung open and she was about to beg Willow again to just let her call the office herself instead of Willow calling in for her, but it wasn't Willow who came in.
"Alice," Tara said in surprise.
Alice stood at the foot of the bed, shaking her head.
"Tara. What are you doing here?"
Tara misunderstood the question.
"T-the doctor says I can come out this afternoon and I can come straight to work and–"
"Tara, are you crazy?" Alice interrupted, "You worked yourself so hard you collapsed. I wanted to rush right over here when Willow called this morning but I had to go to court. What are you doing to yourself?"
Tara ducked her head, subserviently.
"I don't want disciplinary action."
Alice's face creased and she came to sit by Tara.
"Disciplinary action?" she asked softly, taking Tara's hand in hers, "Tara, I was kidding around. We had a rough few days and I was just trying to say we're okay. If I had any idea you were at this point I would have intervened a long time ago."
Tara's eyes remained down but Alice sought her gaze.
"This job is rough. But doing this to yourself, this helps no one. Especially those that need it most," she said firmly, "I've spoken to the boss. He says you have two weeks' vacation days you have to use or lose and I'm ordering you to use."
Tara became visibly panicked.
"Abby–"
"The judge said yes this morning," Alice interrupted, making Tara go wide-eyed.
Alice smiled and nodded.
"He was persuaded by all your work and the statement you got from Abigail. Well, his hand was forced more like, but that doesn't matter. We're scheduling the termination. Unfortunately she'll need a surgical one because of the delays, but the point is, it's happening. You did it."
Tara's hand covered her eyes to shield the tears that sprang there. She was utterly relieved and overjoyed and felt an instant alleviation of her anxieties. The pain in her head was swallowed and she just felt the light relief.
"I'm taking over her case personally and I will make sure she's taken care of. I promise you," Alice vowed, squeezing Tara's hand, "This isn't a punishment. This is your health."
Tara sniffled and nodded gratefully. Alice kindly offered her a tissue.
"You need to be able to vent and release, not keep all pent up until you burst. Talk to me, talk to Willow. Talk to someone."
Tara wiped the tissue under her nose.
"I can't talk to Willow about cases."
"Don't mention names, don't mention anything identifying," Alice advised, "But mention what's getting you so wound up. Don't be in your own head all the time. We all do it. We all need someone to vent to."
Tara felt lightened at the 'permission', which Alice noticed and tapped her hand affectionately.
"If you're feeling up to it, let's have a quiet drink this weekend, okay?"
"Thank you," Tara replied with a watery smile.
"I'll let you rest," Alice said, standing up again, "Your vacation is all organised. Don't worry about a thing."
She brushed some of Tara's hair off to the side affectionately, waved and headed for the door. She bumped into Willow on the threshold, carrying a brown paper bag.
"Oh, Alice. Hi."
"Hi Willow," Alice greeted softly, "I was just ordering Tara on two weeks' vacation."
"Two wee–wow," Willow said, delighted, "That's, that's great. She needs it. Thank you."
Alice waved a hand.
"No need to thank me. She's entitled. I'll see you around."
She left and Willow approached Tara on the bed again.
"How do you feel about that?"
Tara's eyes suddenly filled with tears again.
"I think I really need it."
Willow left the bag down on the nightstand and hugged Tara's head to her chest.
"Yeah. Yeah you do," she said, soft and comforting, "Hey, hey. It's okay."
"I can't do this again," Tara sobbed, overcome with just how sick she'd made herself, "I can't get here."
Willow hugged her tight.
"I won't let you. We're a team, okay?"
Tara nuzzled into Willow's chest.
"Love you."
"Love you so much," Willow answered evocatively.
It wasn't the happiest start to a vacation, but the happiness would come.
First on the agenda was full recuperation.