He'd waited long enough and with no further news to go on he's making a decision. Seattle is a place of constant dread and misery, even if you're not dealing with winter pile ups and family gatherings gone wrong down in the pit. Sadness is a circulation here. From the clouds that swirl around the space needle to the ice sloshing up against the docs the city always cries.
Dr. Parker takes harbor in the harbor it's self. He's in a shack, bundled up in a fluffy coat, and protected by the pink scarf over his nose and lips. In front of him the monitors beep, the radars flash, and he's vigorously typing away with codes of this nature or that. The black market is full of things that frighten him but it's all things he's seen in the OR. It's just being handled wrong and there's no bedside manor when it comes to monsters.
He slips the fabric down below his chin to sip his holiday wine but then it goes right back up. These problems aren't the kind he's used to but every piece of information he can find gets written down. This goes on for about an hour in the morning light before he's interupted by a sound outside the porthole.
He hesitates, looking out at what he can see which isn't much. There's a fish net lying across the glass and across the way he sees a few crates in front of the bobbing boat across the wooden plank.
"Who's there?" He calls out.
Slowly, and with faces full of shame, Helm and Schmidt rise into view. Parker sinks in disappointment. He's on his feet and throwing open the door, "What?"
They come over and stand before him bashfully. They share sad glances and then look back at him. They're at a loss for words. It's not that they wanted to cause him trouble.
"We just didn't want you to be alone." Says Levi Schmidt.
Taryn Helm punches him in the shoulder, "You need people on your side."
"Does Meghan Hunt know you're here?" He asks sternly, his brows arched in suspicion.
They shake their heads vehemently. Even Taryn is afraid of her. Dr. Parker kicks the door the rest of the way open and allows them both inside, "Be prepared. It's a lot."
"I've had my hand inside a three year old's stomach." Says Schmidt, "I think I can handle it."
Helm shrugs, "You're glasses have also been inside a stomach."
"And my blood." He nods, "A lot of me has been inside other people."
Dr. Parker puts a hand over Levi's mouth, "Stop... talking. Sit. Both of you."
He walks over and takes his spot behind his monitors. The two of them follow suit hopping up onto empty fish barrels. The wind whistles and those fingers feverishly type away.
Helm pulls the notebook to her and she hands one to Schmidt. They begin to read everything he's written down. This... is more than a lot. It's a nightmare.
"This jigsaw copycat has done a lot more than mimic." Says Taryn Helm.
Dr. Parker takes a deep breath, "John Kramer only selected adults he deemed unworthy of their lives. Wanted them to fight for it. Earn it back. The police department in New York City was wiped out quickly by copy cats who diminished the original doctrine. Someone more evil than Kramer took over and just killed, arguably, 'scum' for the fun of it. This person, whoever they are, have been targeting innocence. They need to be stopped."
It's not just his sweet nature but the effects of the world around him that twists Levi into knots. His body blues over with the chill. His eyes well up with tears. He weeps.
We fade...
Back at the hospital, in her office, Dr. Bailey tries once more to convince Meghan Hunt and her brother to try. She's determined and hopeful. Dr. Bailey is a woman for movement and if you won't move she will break you in pieces until you do. The soldiers stand tall. They're mountains and she's been climbing all night.
There's a knock at the door and she calls out, "Come in..." her attention dropping to the two people in front of her, "this isn't over."
"I assure you..." Says Dr. Owen Hunt, "it is very over."
He stands, his sister with him, and the two of them walk past his ex-wife Dr. Amelia Sheppard. He pretends not to notice her.
"Dr. Bailey, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting..." Says the chief's head neuro surgeon.
The small, yet frightening, woman shakes her hand vigorously as if to say the apology is unnecessary.
"My resident is missing. Dr. Schmidt left to get me some scans a few hours ago. None of the other attendings have seen him, Helm, or Parker all afternoon." She shrugs as if it doesn't bother her when in fact it does, "We have a surgery scheduled this evening on Ander Munoz. I kind of needed him."
Dr. Bailey smiles really wide but her eyes are dead. There's fear there. Panic. Worry. She's suddenly convinced the entire world has caved in on it's self.
"Dr. Sheppard I believe our residents have..." She swallows hard, "Gone rogue. Given recent events they seem to think they can handle it on their own."
Every new group of interns or residents does something wild. Cutting LVad wires, removing their own appendixes, getting knocked up by attendings. It's a right of passage here at Grey/Sloan. Still... this is new. It's marinated in chaos.
We fade...
There's a soft hum in the shack. The occasional sip of holiday wine. Scratching of the pen on paper. Mostly silence. Page after page had piled up. Detailed information about chaos beyond any one person's control. Helm and Schmidt have begun organizing the files into what's manageable and what isn't. Folder upon folder have stacked up along the far wall. Each one written off with sharpie.
They're well into the late evening, after the sun has gone down, keeping the same pace they've had the whole night when something new takes place. There's a shift in the features on his face. Helm is the first to notice.
"What?" She says, "What do you see?"
He peers over the screen at her with a sullen frustration, "The young ones, admitted yesterday. They're a set of four. How they've been reduced to three I'm not entirely sure but I've got a clip of them all together when they were abducted. The burning of their home. Attached is a list of others involved in the current project." He pauses, folds his fingers and tilts his head to the side, "Does anyone recognize the name James Diamond?"
The door comes open with a rough kick. Standing there is Lucy Stone in her bold black uniform. She's got anger all over her face.
"I do. What does it say, Parker?" Officer Stone's silhouette is illuminated by the crack of white lightning as another snow storm forms behind her.
He stands and moves to the side, gesturing to the chair as if to invite her over. Her boots click across the wood and she takes her seat. The defeat that paints across her face is enough to ripple through everyone else sitting there.
"I remember this Christmas." She whispers, "It was so wonderful... until it wasn't..."