The sterile, clinical hum of Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital was something Jo Wilson had long since gotten used to. The sharp, clean scent of disinfectant, the rhythmic beeping of machines, the hurried footsteps of nurses and doctors—it was all part of the routine. But today, the atmosphere felt different. Darker. Heavier. The tension in the air was palpable, a weight pressing down on her chest as she moved through the halls with a sense of dread she couldn't shake.
Jo had been a surgeon long enough to know when something was off. And something was definitely off today.
She made her way to the ICU, her mind racing. It had been a hell of a week—back-to-back surgeries, long shifts, and the emotional toll of dealing with her patients. But this felt different. This felt personal.
And then there was Alex.
"I didn't want those innocent eyes to watch me fall from grace…"
Jo couldn't stop thinking about him. The way he had left. The way he had disappeared from her life without so much as a proper explanation. Alex had always been the one constant in her world, the one person who had seen her at her worst and still stayed. Until he didn't.
She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to push those thoughts aside. Alex was gone. He had chosen another life, another woman. And Jo? Jo was left to pick up the pieces.
The ICU was quieter than usual, the soft hum of machines filling the space as Jo approached the nurses' station. She glanced at the chart in her hand—her latest patient, Madison, a young girl who had been in a tragic car accident. Severe trauma, head injuries, multiple surgeries. Jo had been working tirelessly to keep her stable, but the prognosis was grim. Madison had been in a coma for days now, and the chances of her waking up were slipping away with each passing hour.
Jo sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. She wasn't ready to give up on the girl, not yet. She never gave up on her patients. But the weight of it was starting to crush her.
"Dr. Wilson," one of the nurses called, pulling Jo from her thoughts.
Jo blinked, turning toward the nurse. "What is it?"
The nurse hesitated, her expression cautious. "There's… something strange with Madison's vitals."
Jo frowned, walking over to the monitor. The heart rate was steady, the oxygen levels were normal, but there was something off in the brainwave patterns. It wasn't erratic, but it was unusual—like her brain was active, but not in the way it should be for a coma patient.
"What the hell…" Jo muttered, her eyes narrowing at the screen.
The nurse shifted nervously. "It's been happening for the past few hours. We were about to call neuro, but we thought you should see it first."
Jo's mind raced as she studied the screen, her heart pounding in her chest. There was something about this that didn't sit right with her. Something that felt wrong.
"I'll take care of it," Jo said, her voice clipped. "Page neuro, but I want to be in the room when they assess her."
The nurse nodded, quickly turning away to make the call.
Jo moved toward Madison's room, the sound of the machines growing louder with every step. Her hand rested on the door handle for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn't explain why, but an overwhelming sense of dread washed over her as she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the monitors casting eerie shadows on the walls. Madison lay motionless in the bed, her tiny frame dwarfed by the medical equipment surrounding her. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room, but there was something else. Something… off.
Jo stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes fixed on Madison's face. The girl's expression was peaceful, almost too peaceful. For someone in her condition, there should have been more visible signs of trauma. But instead, there was an unsettling calmness about her, like she was trapped in some in-between place that Jo couldn't reach.
"I didn't want those innocent eyes to watch me fall from grace…"
Jo swallowed hard, her mind flashing back to Alex. She remembered the way he used to look at her when she broke down, when she showed him the parts of herself she had tried to hide. He had seen her darkest moments, and for a while, he had stayed. But she had fallen from grace too many times, and eventually, he had left her behind.
Just like Madison had been left behind, trapped in this coma, in this dark space between life and death.
Jo shook her head, pushing those thoughts away. She couldn't let herself spiral right now. Madison needed her to stay focused, to be the doctor she was supposed to be.
But as Jo moved closer to the bed, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and her hand froze inches away from Madison's chart.
That's when she heard it.
A soft, almost imperceptible whisper.
Jo's heart skipped a beat as she turned around, her eyes scanning the empty room. There was no one there. Just Madison, the machines, and the endless, oppressive silence.
She took a step back, her pulse quickening. Was she losing it? Was the exhaustion finally getting to her?
Then, the whisper came again—louder this time. More distinct.
It was coming from Madison.
Jo's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. Madison's lips weren't moving, her body was still as a statue, but Jo could swear she heard a voice. It was faint, almost like it was coming from a distance, but it was there.
"I see you, but I can't reach you…"
Jo's hands trembled as she reached for Madison's chart, trying to steady herself. The brainwave activity on the monitor had changed again, spiking in ways that shouldn't have been possible for a coma patient.
"Dr. Wilson?" a voice called from the doorway.
Jo jumped, turning to see Dr. Shepherd, the neuro specialist, walking into the room with a concerned look on his face.
"I heard you paged me," he said, glancing at the monitors. "What's going on?"
Jo took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "There's something strange happening with Madison. Her vitals are stable, but the brain activity—it's like she's trying to wake up, but something's holding her back."
Dr. Shepherd frowned, stepping closer to the monitor. "That's unusual… especially for someone who's been in a coma for this long."
Jo nodded, her eyes drifting back to Madison. "I don't know how to explain it, but I feel like she's… trying to communicate. Like she's reaching out, but something's keeping her trapped."
Dr. Shepherd raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying you think she's conscious?"
Jo hesitated, her mind racing. It sounded crazy, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more going on here. Something she couldn't explain with medicine or logic.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But whatever this is, it's not normal."
Dr. Shepherd studied the monitor for a moment longer before turning to Jo. "Let's run some tests. See if we can figure out what's going on in her brain."
Jo nodded, grateful for the distraction. She needed answers—anything to make sense of the strange, creeping dread that had settled over her.
As Dr. Shepherd left the room to order the tests, Jo stood there, staring at Madison's still form. The whispering had stopped, but the unease lingered. It felt like Madison was caught in some kind of nightmare, and Jo couldn't help but wonder if it was one she had seen before.
Later that night, after the tests had been run and the results showed nothing out of the ordinary, Jo sat alone in the hospital's break room, her thoughts a tangled mess. She hadn't been able to shake the feeling that Madison was trying to tell her something. But what? And why?
She thought about Alex again. How he had left without warning, how she had spent weeks wondering what had gone wrong, what she could have done to make him stay. She had never gotten the closure she needed, and now, with Madison's case hanging over her, the parallels were too strong to ignore.
"It's hard to be close when you've seen too much…"
Jo leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes for a moment. She had spent so long trying to move on from Alex, trying to find her footing again, but the ghosts of their relationship still haunted her. And now, those same ghosts seemed to be following her into the hospital.
The sound of the door opening jolted Jo from her thoughts. She opened her eyes to see Dr. Shepherd standing in the doorway, his expression grim.
"We need to talk," he said, his voice low.
Jo sat up, her heart pounding in her chest. "What is it?"
Dr. Shepherd hesitated, glancing down at the papers in his hand. "The scans came back normal, but something else happened. Madison… she started seizing."
Jo's blood ran cold. "Seizing? Why? What triggered it?"
Dr. Shepherd shook his head. "We don't know. There's no explanation. But there's something else."
Jo's stomach twisted with dread. "What?"
Dr. Shepherd's eyes met hers, his voice barely above a whisper. "She said your name."
Jo's heart stopped. "What?"
He nodded, his expression serious. "Right before the seizure, she said, 'Jo.'"
Jo felt like the ground had been pulled out from under her. How was that possible? Madison had been in a coma for days—there was no way she could have spoken, let alone known Jo's name.
"I… I need to see her," Jo said, her voice shaking.
Dr. Shepherd nodded, stepping aside to let her pass.
As Jo made her way back to Madison's room, her mind raced with a million questions. How had Madison known her name? Was this some kind of message? Or was Jo just losing it?
She pushed open the door to Madison's room, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the machines. Madison lay still in the bed, her face pale and drawn.
Jo stepped closer, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch Madison's hand.
And then, she heard it again.
That voice. That whisper.
"I see you, but you can't see me…"
Jo's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. It wasn't just a voice—it was Madison's voice. Somehow, she was trapped in this in-between place, and Jo was the only one who could hear her.
Tears filled Jo's eyes as she gripped Madison's hand tighter. "I'm here," she whispered. "I'm here. I'll find a way to bring you back."
But even as she said the words, she knew that the line between life and death was thin. And sometimes, no matter how hard you fought, you couldn't bring someone back from the edge.
Just like Alex.
Jo closed her eyes, her heart heavy with the weight of everything she had lost.
And for the first time in a long time, she wasn't sure if she could bear the thought of losing someone else.
