Dick ran into the emergency room waiting area, Bruce and Arthur on his heels. As he stopped at the desk, he could hear yelling behind the closed door that led into the treatment area.
"I'm here for Arabella Hamilton. She was brought in," Dick glanced at his watch, "about 10 minutes ago. Mugging victim," he clarified.
The woman behind the desk looked up sympathetically. "Are you a relative?"
Lie . . . That was the first thought that went through his head. Elle needed him; he knew this in his bones, although he had no clue as to how he could help her.
"Uh, she's . . . um," Dick looked over his shoulder at his father; panic in his eyes. What do I tell her? "I'm her . . . uh . . ."
"Fiancé," Bruce interjected smoothly.
Dick's eyebrows rose up to meet his hairline, but he didn't contradict the man. He'd say anything to get back there to her. He smiled a wobbly smile at the receptionist. "Yeah," he said, "that. I'm her fiancé."
She stared at him for a moment, like she might challenge him to prove it or something, but in the end she nodded. "Okay. She already had a couple of people back there with her, but a fiancé takes precedent over boss and friend. Just send the other two out when you get back there." She looked over Dick's shoulder at the other two men. "You both can have a seat."
Dick thanked her and turned to go through the doors when an elderly man called out to him.
"Excuse me. You said you were the fiancé to the woman who was mugged?" The man leaned heavily on his cane. An elderly woman, obviously his wife, stood nervously behind him.
Was that streaks of blood on that cane? Dick flicked his gaze back to the old man. "Yes, that's right. I don't believe we've met before . . ." he said, holding his hand out.
"Günter Lohmann; this is my wife, Trudy. Your fiancé saved our lives tonight when she intervened on our behalf. We cannot begin to express our gratitude," the elderly man said with a strong Germanic accent.
Dick blinked. That's right! Jasmine told him that they had interrupted a mugging. He had thought it was accidental, but according to this man, Günter, Elle purposely interfered.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize . . ." Dick began hesitantly. "Jasmine, um, she was with Elle apparently when this happened, told me only very little."
Trudy smiled, nodding. "Oh yes, Günter," she said. "That was the young woman who helped you keep that nasty man subdued until the officers had arrived." She turned to Dick. "She was quite wonderful."
"Nice young woman," Günter agreed. "But truly, it was your woman, Elle? She swooped like an avenging angel to help us escape. The man would have murdered us for certain."
"As soon as we learned where they were bringing her, we came. It was the least we could do. But they will not tell us anything, and we feel so responsible. She would not have been hurt had she not come to our rescue, you understand," Trudy told him as she patted his hand.
"We were hoping that you might let us know how she fares," Günter slipped his arm around his wife.
Dick looked back and forth between them. They were looking at him so hopefully. "I'll do my best," he promised vaguely.
At the moment, he wasn't so sure that he would be allowed to stay with her, let alone be given any information as a mere fiancée. Perhaps Bruce should have told the receptionist he was her husband. Of course, if Brian was back there, it might all be moot. He would surely tell them the truth the minute Dick showed his face.
Günter smiled at Bruce and Arthur. "She is a very brave girl, indeed. Are you relatives of Elle as well?"
"Uh, this is my father, Bruce, and . . . Elle's . . . Um, Uncle Arthur." Dick improvised.
"A pleasure, to be sure," Trudy patted each man's hand in turn.
"If you'll excuse me . . ." Dick didn't wait any longer. He moved quickly through the swinging doors.
The yelling was louder now. Dick followed it. He recognized Jasmine's and Brian's voices. He rounded the hall to find the two of them arguing with the doctor. Jasmine was holding her phone in the air.
"I'm telling you that she is going into hypovolemic shock, even as we speak," the African-American doctor was telling them. "She's lost too much blood already. We can't wait! Do you understand me? She could die without a blood transfusion!"
Jasmine waved the phone in his face. "Her father is on his way. He's the one that said to wait. He insists that a blood transfusion could kill her if you don't use the right blood!"
The doctor was shaking his head. "Nonsense! We test the blood first, but even so, she should be able to take O negative blood without a reaction. It is considered to be the universal blood type and most can take it safely."
"Jasmine!" Brian was running his hands through his hair. "We don't have a choice."
Jasmine eyes landed on Dick. The relief she felt was obvious. "Dick! Thank God you're here! Please, you have to help her."
Brian growled and stepped up as if to block him. "What are you doing here? I told you she doesn't need you anymore!"
Dick put his hand on Brian's shoulder and pushed him out of his way. "Don't be stupid," he told him. "I am Arabella's fiancé," he told the doctor.
"What?!" Brian choked out. "That's a lie!"
Jasmine's eyes widened, but she didn't contradict him. "Uh, no, it's not," she said, praying that she wouldn't be struck by lightning for lying. "He's right. Dick is her fiancé." She nodded for emphasis.
Brian goggled at her. "How can you say that?"
Jasmine put hands up in an effort to calm the man. "It's true. Mr. Hamilton knows about it as well." God help her!
"Then that just makes what you've done a thousand times worse in my book, Grayson," Brian snarled.
"There are only two people allowed back here with the patient at a time," the doctor said. "Someone needs to leave.
Dick looked at Brian. "That would be you."
Brian stormed back down the hall towards the waiting room, and Dick turned back to the doctor. He glanced at the man's hospital ID tag.
"Uh, Dr. Carter? I'm sorry for that." Dick put out his hand. "I'm Dick Grayson, Arabella's fiancé," he reminded the man again. "May I see her, please."
"Of course, but we need a plan of action. She's already anxious and confused which are early symptoms of shock. If we wait, Miss Hamilton could fall into respiratory or cardiac arrest. Her body's fluid is down nearly twenty percent, and unless we can replace it soon, she will begin experiencing massive organ shut down." Dr. Carter pulled back the curtain.
Dick rushed to Elle's side, desperate after three weeks without her to see her; touch her. He picked up her bandaged hand carefully and leaned over her. It was as if someone had suddenly lifted ten tons of weight off of his chest. He took the first deep breath he had had in weeks. He frowned. She looked ill and he thought that she lost some weight. Was this part of the blood loss or was she actually suffering from their separation as much as he was? Perhaps she, even more than he, from the looks of it.
As if she sensed him, Elle's eyes fluttered open and she turned her head in his direction. Her lovely brown eyes struggled to remain focused on him, but the lines of tension around her eyes and mouth eased and she smiled at him.
"Dick," she whispered. "You came back?"
"I'm sorry, Elle," his eyes welled up. "I'm so sorry. I love you, baby, and I'm never leaving you again."
She smiled at his words; her hand pulling out of his so she could touch his face. "I love you more," she told him, teasingly.
Her face, already pale, suddenly lost even more color and her breathing increased dramatically; becoming pants as she started hyperventilating.
"Elle?" Dick cupped her face, and was surprised how cold and damp her skin felt. Her eyes rolled up into her head as she lost consciousness. "Doctor!"
The doctor was there before he finished speaking. He flashed a light into her eyes, as a nurse pushed Dick out of the way. The doctor started listening to her heart as the nurse took Elle's blood pressure.
"75 over 40," the nurse reported, "and dropping."
"This is ridiculous. Bring me two pints of O negative blood, stat!" Carter barked. "Mr. Grayson, I need you to step out, now."
"Elle? Oh, no! No, no, no, no," Dick moaned. This wasn't happening!
The nurse ran past him, and Carter put his hands on Dick's shoulders, pushing him gently but inexorably out of the treatment room. Dick's eyes were only for the woman on the table.
How could this happen? He had just foolishly wasted three weeks avoiding her, only to have her taken from him the moment he was prepared to come back; ready to beg her forgiveness. If he hadn't panicked, this would never have happened! He would have been here to escort her home, either as himself or secretly as Nightwing. He would have been there to save the elderly couple and Elle never would have had to endanger herself to help them!
This was his fault! All of it, his fault . . .
The terror inside of him felt like acid; the pain he felt in his chest was like a sledgehammer. Was this what Aquaman had been describing? The bonding?
"Mr. Grayson, please. You will only be in the way here," the doctor was telling him. "Step out, sir. We will do everything in our power to save her, I promise, but you need to go now."
"No! He stays!" The voice was familiar, but weak than Dick remembered.
He and the doctor turned to see Lazlo pushing Cedric Hamilton into the ER in a wheelchair. The man had lost a lot of weight. No longer was he the intimidating man that had limped into Wayne Manor but weeks ago.
"I'm sorry, sir, but you can't be here right now," Carter told him. Raising his voice, he called for some assistance. "Would someone escort these people to the waiting room?"
"Arabella is my daughter, and if you don't want to kill her you will listen to me," Cedric told him. It was enough to make Carter pause. Cedric pointed at Dick and said, "His blood is compatible with Arabella's. If you do a blood transfusion on her, you must use his blood and only his blood."
Carter frowned, glancing back and forth between the two men. "She is going to need more than Mr. Grayson can spare. But we can take a pint from him to begin with and that will get her out of the immediate danger zone. But we'll need to supplement it with some blood we have in our banks. O negative . . ."
"No, no O negative blood. Only what you can get from Mr. Grayson," Cedric insisted.
"Surely their blood type isn't that rare," Carter argued.
"My blood type is A positive," Dick said.
"We have A positive. That isn't rare at all," Carter grinned. "We have an ample supply on hand."
"No, only Richard Grayson's blood will do," Cedric snarled. "Not even A positive from other people will work."
Dick narrowed his eyes. He stepped over and leaned down to speak to the older man. "What's going on here? Why are you insisting that she only have my blood? She needs more than they will allow me to give her."
"Then that is all she will have," Cedric said. "You two have begun the bonding process." He tilted his head and asked Dick bluntly. "Have you slept with her yet?"
Dick's mouth dropped open and he stood up straight abruptly. "What is this obsession you have with our sex life? Is that all you can ask me? Not that it's any of your damned business, you realize!"
Cedric caught a handful of Dick's jacket and tugged him down. "For your information, that will complete the process and make the two of you fully bonded mates! It makes a huge difference! Bonded mates can share blood with no ill effects. Still, even if you haven't slept with her, you have bonded enough emotionally I think to be able to save her now. I would have given her my blood, as I am her father, but my blood is now contaminated by my illness. It would likely do more harm than good. But you . . . You are the only one capable of helping her now outside of her grandmother or perhaps maybe an Atlantian. Unfortunately, her grandmother is in Italy and there aren't any available Atlantians in Bludhaven."
Dick blinked, and looked down the hall in the direction of the waiting room. Arthur Curry was King Orin of Atlantis! He was at least half Atlantian!
"Would a half Atlantian do?" Dick whispered.
"Better than whatever garbage the doc over there had planned to give her," Cedric said. "Yours is better, but if she has to have more than that, a half Atlantian would be better than nothing. I'm hoping that it will, at least. She doesn't have a choice."
"There's a large, blond man sitting beside Bruce in the waiting room. I told the receptionist he was her Uncle Arthur, but he is half Atlantian. I had gone to him to ask questions about her heritage when all of this started. Go, tell him who you are and what Elle needs. Ask him if he would be willing to do this as a favor to me."
Dick spun around. He started stripping off his jacket and rolling up his sleeve. He thrust his arm out to Dr. Carter. "Here," he said. "Take whatever you possibly can from me. Elle's uncle is in the waiting room and capable of giving her blood. He might be willing to donate a pint to her as well. Will that do?"
Instead of answering him directly, Carter started snapping orders. "I need the equipment to do two direct, person-to-person transfusions, stat!" He looked over his shoulder as he pushed Dick back into the room. "Get her uncle back here immediately!"
REACTIONS, PLEASE!
If I know you are interested in the story, it gives me incentive to continue writing it for you. If you like it, please favorite it . . . There is so much more story to tell. More fun and more excitement and soon enough it will get a little bit dark as well.
I thought it only fair to warn you that person to person transfusions are pretty much all fiction. There is a lot that goes into taking blood from one person and safely giving it to another. Also, the likelihood of taking blood from one person and sending it into the body of another is pretty slim as well. In reality, the blood would be taken into a bag and tested. It is then decided how much of it will be given: just plasma or platelets or RBCs (red blood cells), seldom whole blood unless it had been taken from the person needing it and stored to be used for later. Once it had been determined what is going to be used, the blood would be administered through a gravity-assisted IV line. But since this is Fiction; I get to do what I want . . .
So, when you watch TV or a movie, and you see someone having to do a direct person-to-person blood transfusion, know that in reality (if it worked. Air in the line would likely prevent blood from reaching the other person), they just killed the person they were trying to save. Bummer! But it should make you realize how grateful we all should be for the American Red Cross and hospital technicians who save our lives by collecting, testing, and storing blood every day. Or to the corresponding establishment in your own country. ;D