I know, I know... I'm just going to stop making promises. I apparently suck at keeping them. In my defense this chapter was so hard to write because nothing seem to flow right. And then everything in 12x24 didn't make it any easier. Speaking of which...This fic is AU after 12x08 and Jo's name is still Jo and doesn't have a secret husband. Because while the show writers may be able to force this story in with established show history, I'm not going to try to force into my story. Anyways without further ado finally here's chapter 8.
In surgery there are only two options, two possibilities, two consequences. You either succeed or you fail. The patient either lives or dies. But today it wasn't just a positive outcome for the patient that Jo needed, it was a positive outcome for herself, does she get to live or die?
That's what Jo was thinking, at least, as she washed her hands, trying to disinfect as much as she could without the ability to scrub. She watched the water run down her hands, swirling down the drain. This was single-handily the strangest surgery she would ever do. And if not the gun pointed at her temple about twenty minutes ago, it would probably also be the coolest surgery.
Jo dryly chuckled at the thought. Could you put performed emergency surgery on a potential murder in a hotel conference room with nothing more than a field trauma kit you stole from a dead person on your resume? Probably not.
She walked back into the conference room, wearing flimsy, not at all surgically appropriate gloves, not that she had a choice of course.
She imagined what this would be like in an OR. She'd be on the opposite side of the table-assisting. She'd be suctioning, retracting, and maybe if she got lucky maybe she'd get to close. Even as a fifth year resident, she would rarely get to be lead surgeon on a trauma. And even then she was constantly supervised by an attending. But here it was all her- no one to consult with or talk to or double check her work.
She remembered her first solo surgery, a simple abdominal hernia repair. She also remembered freaking out before and after the surgery as well. But Dr Bailey's words resonated with her, she had to trust her instincts. She didn't need an attending to double check her work, she knew what she was doing.
And she made her first cut.
Callie had a pelvic repair, two hip replacements, and an open reduction scheduled for the day. Normally she would hand off something so textbook like that to Wilson, but since that option was so clearly of the the table. Today world renowned orthopedic surgeon, Calliope Torres was doing boring procedures and fixes. So when Arizona asked her if she was free for a couple hours, Callie was quick to agree.
But now finding out what she had volunteered herself for Callie was starting to wish she had decided otherwise.
"So Robbins brought you into this too?" Alex asked, annoyance and grief seemingly etched into his face. He had originally planned to just drive himself even though Meredith and Arizona had refused to let him do so. But since both of them had surgery, they didn't have much of a choice. Or at least he thought before he found himself in Callie Torres' car.
"No...I volunteered" Callie lied, pretending to be offended by his assumption.
"Yeah...sure" Alex quipped back rolling his eyes. "Well, I don't need the help" a certain petulance echoed through Alex's voice.
"It's a good thing then that I'm not here for you then"
"So you are here because Robbins asked you."
"Okay fine, Arizona asked me to, but Alex, I would've done it anyway. But not for you. I'd do it for Wilson."
Alex looked over at her, not understanding.
"Wilson may be your soon-to-be-wife but she's already my work wife. And what kind of work wife would I be if let her thick-headed idiot soon-to-be-real-life-husband die in crash because he was driving distracted?"
"That doesn't make any sense..."
"Whatever Karev, the point is Jo is going to be okay, because our wife is a badass...well my wife, she's not your wife yet"
"That still doesn't make any sense, and sounds strangely wrong"
"Shut up Alex."
Ben Warren had memorized Alex Karev's phone number at this point. That's how many times he'd tried to get the pediatric surgeon's phone.
Stephanie was trying to answer the FBI's answers. Her voice frantic and yet shaking. Ben had been given responsibility of calling Karev. But every time he called, it ended up going to voicemail. Secretly he felt relieved every time he heard the monotonous automated voice of the answering machine. If Karev had picked up, what was he supposed to say? He tried imagining being on the receiving end of that call, finding out that Miranda was more than likely dead.
Ben shook his head trying to get rid of the image in his head. He reached for the phone again.
"Don't bother." Ben looked up at Irine. He squinted his eyes in confusion, he'd barely ever spoken three words to the now committed cardio surgeon. What was she talking about?
Irine picked up on his confusion before explaining herself, "I heard you and Stephanie. About Jo? I tried calling Pierce, who found from Grey, Karev's on a flight. Here."
"What? Does he know?"
"Besides that she was missing? No. I don't think so."
"So he has to find out about Jo's suicidal heroism in person."
Somehow that doesn't sound any better.
Once she opened the wound and got a look at the bleeding, it was actually a fairly easy fix. Or at least it would be, if Jo was in any medically sanitary location. Making anything more that superficial fixes would expose the patient to a greater risk of infection. But not doing anything would mean he would go into hypovolemic shock and then die anyway. Jo was facing a lose-lose situation. The frustration was beating down on her. This was a textbook case but besides that nothing about the situation was textbook.
But the thing that was annoying her most right now, the silence.
Jo had studied orthopedic surgery under Dr Callie Torres, and anyone who had spent 20 seconds in an OR with Callie Torres knew how she liked to run her ORs. Loud. At first, the noise annoyed her...a lot. How was anyone supposed to focus on surgery with rock music blaring? But eventually she learned to ignore it, besides the badass bone breaking surgery was too good to let go off anyway. But right now she missed it, not the music exactly but the familiarity.
"You know, my own experience tells me the angry brooding man thing is usually a front" Jo tried, in the attempt to break the silence. Trying to engage the man in the corner, who only responded with a glare.
"And I mean you're not even good at it, it's so obvious that you're hiding something-so what is it? I would guess family I mean I saw your brother-yikes, or I know, your ex-wife hallucinated her dead fiancé and had weird ghost-sex with but it was actually because she had cancer but then she got better only to walk out on you again-"
Charles looked at her with bewildered confusion, "What? What does that even mean?"
Jo shrugged, "Prior experience with angry broody men"
"Shut up, stop asking questions, and go back to work" he snapped back.
"Oh come on, humor me for a while. You want your friend to live? Talk."
"Okay. Are you done yet? What's wrong? And is he going to be fine?"
"No, no, no-nothing medical, talk about your life-the interesting stuff, not the boring or bloody stuff though either"
"You want to talk about my personal life...over an open chest?"
"Well where I'm from, this is commonplace, so come on-this is a no judgem...or at least only a little judgment zone."
"Just get back to work, make sure he lives" Charles' voice wavered ever so slightly as he looked down at the man on the conference table. But not slight enough for Jo to miss it.
"There! There it is again. This guy isn't just a fellow soldier or whatever is he?"
"Just...just go back to work..." His voice, softer than Jo had ever heard, as he pleaded.
Jo decided not to push, having obviously hit a chord. She decided to take the risk and deepen cuts, infection was something that could probably be treated. arresting on the table probably not as much. Besides, after moving in and out of consciousness for a while, he had completely passed out, his timeframe for survival was shrinking. Fast.
So that was chapter 8- So this chapter took a while to write, but I hope you guys like it. It feels like everyone's worried about Jo, except for maybe Jo...