cold. I rub my thumb over her knuckles, and tears brim my eyes when I think I might lose a friend. A person who is kind, and the only person that I’ve ever felt kindred to. I have from the first time I saw her. “I’m right here.” I bend down and kiss her cheek and then hang my head, leaning my forehead against her shoulder. “You can’t leave. Okay? You can’t leave.”
I want to tell her she can’t leave me, specifically, but even when she’s on the verge of death, I can’t. Part of me feels that death is more peaceful than life, and I’d understand if she didn’t hold on, but selfishly, I want her here.
That isn’t enough to keep the blood pumping in her heart, that’s medicine.
And there are times when medicine can’t save the souls that are too close to the other side.
All I can do is hope.
And hope has let me down more times than not.
I’ve never been the one to wait.
I hate waiting.
I’m usually in the surgical room where the action is. I’m not good at this. Is this what people feel like constantly? Watching the clock drag on and on and fucking on only to see three minutes have gone by?
“Doc, we brought you a change of clothes,” Reaper says.
I look up and pull my fingers from my hair. Right. Clothes. I glance down at my ruined, blood-stained shirt and jeans and sigh. “Thanks, Reaper,” I say, reaching for the folded shirt and pants in his hands. I head to the restroom and clean up as best as I can, trashing the blood-stained clothes.
I make my way to the waiting room and wait for any news on Joanna. Reaper sits next to me and leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Joanna is strong. She’s been through a lot. She’ll be fine.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You didn’t see it, Reaper. I’ve seen a lot of shit. I’ve fixed hundreds of people. I’ve performed multiple surgeries.” I meet his intense stare with my tired one and swallow the lump in my throat. “That was the most blood I’ve ever seen. It was everywhere, obviously,” I snort sarcastically and wave my hand down my body. “We need to prepare ourselves. If she dies, that’s on us, Reaper.” I pat my chest with my palm harder than necessary, but I want Reaper to see that I’m serious.
He looks away from me, contemplating his next words. Reaper laces his fingers together, and the exhale that leaves him deflates his entire body. When he realizes I’m right, his shoulders fall. “I know. We should’ve done more. I thought she was fine. She seemed … she seemed happy, like she was having the time of her life at college.”
“Depression is a trickster. Seems like it fooled us pretty well. I’m a damn doctor, and I didn’t realize she needed help. I’m a fucking doctor, Reaper! How could I have not seen that she needed help?” I lean back and turn my head toward the door the doctor is supposed to walk through, but it’s still closed.
“No one is perfect, Doc. People hide their pain well for a reason.”
I frown and disagree. “No, she didn’t hide it that well, now that I think back on it. When Patrick had his transplant, and she was there, I saw the oddities. Something wasn’t right, and I chose to ignore it. If I had pushed aside my…” I almost say attraction. “Anyway…” I run my fingers through my hair again and stand. “I’m going to find some coffee.”
“I’ll make sure to get you if the doctor comes out and says anything.”
I give him a tight smile and stare at Tongue, who is standing in a corner, as he always does so he can see everything. He still has blood on him, but unlike me, Tongue enjoys a good blood bath. He probably won’t shower until later.
Exhaustion sets in my bones. I rub my eyes and wake myself up a bit. The thud of my boots echo along the white floor. Fluorescent lights reflect in the tiles, and the brightness burns my eyes for a second, giving me the jolt I need.
I hang a right to go down the hallway, but the double doors on the left swing open, and a doctor walks out. I spin on the sole of my boots and hurry in the direction I just came from. My hand travels along the edge of the counter where