Chapter 17

I watch Fig scrawling away in Esther's chart. I have no memory of leaving the OR, scrubbing out, following the patient down to recovery… but here I am, the adrenalin that was humming through me only now starting to fade. The rush I felt back there has to be a thousand times more intense if you're the one cutting, and yet she gives no sign of it. I envy her clinical calm. People will say it comes with years of training and honing a specific skill but no matter how hard I try, I can't think of Fig as ever having been a messy, emotional, bumbling intern. If I had to guess, I'd say she shot out of med school this way – a god.

"What are we putting her down for?" Her voice comes to fetch me in my drug-like haze and I realize both she and the unit nurse are staring at me.

"Sorry, what?" Here it comes… some snide comeback about not paying attention or whatever. Halfway through day 1 in Fig's service and I'm starting to figure her out.

"Meds… what would your post-op script look like?" she asks. And I blink. I clearly haven't figured out shit.

No underhanded comment? No amusement at my expense? Someone alert security that Fig's been possessed by something that isn't a bitch. They'd wanna crawl the hospital for similar supernatural events. Maybe call a lockdown. And a priest.

"Ruby's waiting to write it up, so whenever you're ready," she pushes again. I notice ownership of the chart now rests with the nurse – Ruby.

"Beta blockers?" I clear my throat after it comes out all weird.

"Are you asking me what they are?"

"No, I know wh-"

"You're asking if we have them?"

"I wasn't asking-"

"Because the inflection in your voice, the way it went up at the end of blockers… That made it sound like a question. Like you have no idea what you're talking about." Ah, there she is. Everyone stand down, Fig is just fine. "Don't do that," she says then, shaking her head impatiently. "Don't ever sound like that unless you mean to."

"Okay." Jesus, was that really necessary? I just got out of a four-hour surgery. Four hours of standing and using my entire brain mass to pay attention.

"So did you mean to?" I shake my head no. "Then do it again." She and Ruby go back to staring at me expectantly.

Now I'm super aware of my voice inflecting correctly, so when I repeat "Beta blockers," it sounds like I'm someone else.

"Why?" she asks with a sigh, rubbing her eyes.

What is her deal?

"Slows the heart, less stress on the healing muscle," I dictate like a rote recitation straight out of a textbook. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's directly out of the textbook.

Fig nods once and it sets Ruby scribbling away beside her, writing up the first entry.

"What else?"

"Uh… Aspirin."

"Really?" she asks, sounding disinterested as she massages the back of her neck. "Do you have a recommendation that can't be given to me by a five-year-old?"

Dick. "Diuretics..." She opens her mouth and I know she's going to demand 'why' again so I jump ahead before she can say it. "…to prevent excess fluid build-up in the chest cavity."

"What else?" And now she's not even trying to hide her irritation anymore. Not that she really was before. But it's starting to feel more and more like I'm a pain in the ass she can't wait to get rid of. "Think about Esther," she adds. "Don't think about every cardiac post-op in the history of medicine." She rolls her head, the bones in her neck cracking, she yawns and then I get it.

She's not irritated with me. I'm not a pain in her ass. She's tired. She just got out of a four-hour surgery that she couldn't just stand and watch but actually had to perform, while still taking time to talk me through it. And yet she's here… doing this with me when she could be catching the break she needs. I guess that makes me the dick.

"I'd hold the Heparin and start her on slow-dose Insulin until she wakes up."

"Why not carry on with Insulin after she wakes up?" Her voice is lighter now. She noticed me trying at least.

"Once she's awake, a controlled diet will replace the slow-dose in regulating her blood-sugar levels. We should encourage her to take solids as soon as possible."

"Thank you," then to Ruby, "Add Propafenone twice daily, starting now."

"Yes Doctor."

"And you-" She turns back to me and I don't know how I could've missed it before. She looks absolutely beat. "-ask a question if you have one, but never question yourself in front of other people because then they'll question you too. You don't want that. And get something to eat – heavy protein. Maybe some OJ. No caffeine," she adds quickly with a wag of her finger.

"What?" I understood everything she said up until the protein part.

"Eat something," she spells it out. "And run somewhere. You'll be stuck in theater again in less than three hours."

My mouth is still open in anticipation of a response that has no intention of ever coming as I watch her walk out of the ward. Give me the bitch who's throwing insults my way and I can handle her just fine. But a nice, normal Fig who's apparently concerned for my wellbeing? Speechless. But I don't take too long to dwell on the rare emergence of Fig as an actual human, because less than three hours. That's how long I have to find Piper and get her to talk to me. No bullshit, just honesty. And then also eat something and run somewhere.

As it happens, I get to start ticking things off my to-do list immediately, using the stairwell to get down to the trenches three floors below. I work harder than I normally would, taking to the stairs in a gallop, so by the time I hit the last flight my pulse is already drumming in my ears. I push through the door that'll take me into the thick of things already feeling like I got a shot of uppers straight to the heart. Amazing what a surge of O2 can do.

"Hey, Vause." I startle a little as Jefferson appears beside me, taking up my quickened pace easily.

"Hey," I offer back distractedly and out of breath. I'm busy scanning the area for Piper and although it's not really busy down here, all the faces swim together in a blur. Must be the O2. Or maybe it's anxiety.

Because although I know I have to do this – I have to get her alone somewhere and talk this out once and for all – I'm kinda terrified. Because what if I'm imagining things and she's just gonna give me the same old story from Saturday?

"You seen Chapman?" Jefferson's eyebrows shoot up. Shit. I forgot she was in on our conversation earlier. And she of course knows the whole deal like everyone else. And she was in Exam 4 with me when Piper showed up, fresh from her session with the Chief. "It's not like that," I lie.

She eyes me suspiciously, not buying it for a second. "I don't think you'll find her down here," she replies evenly, considerate enough to not allude to anything more. "She had a rough time in surgery earlier. Probably shaking it off in HQ if I had to guess."

HQ. That's what they call the surgeon's lounge. For a second I'm aware that I'm always referring to the other interns as 'they', like I'm not part of them. After a second, it's gone because I have to double back, one floor up. This time the elevator will do. I feel a tug on my sleeve as I turn.

"Hold up. Not so fast," Jefferson says, and she doesn't let go even after I fix her with a 'what the hell are you doing' glare. "I'm hearing all kinds of weird shit about you getting to the table with Fig and I need to hear it from your mouth before I believe it." I don't have to answer, because just the thought of that moment makes this stupid smile spread across my face and that's all the answer she needs. "Damn," she says with a slap to my arm. "How the hell did you get that right?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. When it comes to Fig, I don't know anything."

"First this morning, now this." She's walking and talking and I'm following.

Jefferson's solid. So far she's the one person who bothered asking me about something instead of going ahead and believing what she heard around here. I can spare a quick debrief. In fact, I think that's just what I need. The trenches fade behind us as we start down the hall. I have more than enough time to find Piper.

"What happened this morning?"

"When she K.O'd the patient for you in front of all of us." She looks at me flabbergasted. Like how could I possibly forget?

"Oh right."

"Yeah… oh right… teacher's pet." She shoulder-checks me.

"Pet? You didn't see her ride me in that OR."

"Whatever, you've got the Fig in your corner. Something like that helps your rep."

"What rep? I'm nobody. We all are."

"What rep?" she repeats my question with more than a hint of mockery. "Are you being for real right now?"

I follow her into a left turn and now we're in a part of the hospital I don't recognize. A narrow hallway with nothing but a lone vending machine against the left wall. The wall on our right is lined with windows splashing the linoleum floor with dull orange winter sun pouring through them. It's striking to be reminded of the outside world so suddenly. Usually I have to check the time to know how far into the day I am. I see a huge 'Out of Order' sign stuck to the glass when we get to the vending machine. Jefferson stops and slams a flat hand against the side. Something happens inside and then a loud bang from below signals something in the pick-up.

"That's stealing."

"You sound like Soso," she says with a laugh and pulls out a can of Coke. "Want one?"

I remember Fig's orders to stay away from caffeine and shake my head no. "So what happened with the surgery?" I want to ask about Piper and why she needs to hide in HQ, but I need to do it in a way that's not obvious. This seems like a good place to start.

"Shit, I thought it was over for me when he started coding." She cracks the seal on the can and the hiss echoes in the emptiness around us. "But it's one of those fucked up scenarios you don't see coming until it hits you in the face. No-one's really to blame when that happens."

We're still walking and I still have no idea where I'm following her to, but this is a means to an end. The more I know about Piper's demeanor, the better prepared I'll be when I walk into HQ. I listen as she gives me a blow-by-blow account of what happened with the guy – McFaker apparently – right up to the point where Piper lost him on her table.

"Shit."

"Is what I said," she says. "She was pretty messed up when I left her. This way."

We've reached the end of the hall where it splits in two like a T-junction. Jefferson turns to the right and in keeping with the theme of this conversation, I follow. She's still talking, but I can't really focus on any of it after what she told me about Piper. Piper who's obviously dealing with her own personal chaos in the wake of losing a patient she feels she should've saved, and then to have to push it aside for the stand-still in a few hours, where there's a 50/50 chance she'll lose that patient too… How the hell am I supposed to confront her now? What right do I have to ask her to make room for me with everything else going on?

"Hey, Vause." It's Six – Luscheck. He's in a rickety old rocking chair with what looks like a copy of The Intern's Survival Guide open on his lap. I know it at a glance because I got the same one from Nicky and the crew on my last day.

I smile awkwardly and give an even more awkward wave of my hand, because I can't find the word I have to say back… because it's not just him down here. Jefferson's led me into what looks like some kind of grunt hangout. Beside the rocking chair are two gurneys lined up end-to-end, where the other interns are sitting down to a brown bag picnic. The smell of food hangs heavy in the narrow hallway, of which someone's tuna salad is the heaviest of all.

"Welcome to the bunker," Jefferson says. "Want one?" She's holding out a slice of pastrami on wholewheat.

I shake my head stiffly. I know I'm supposed to eat something, but my stomach's in my throat and I'm too busy trying to decide who's gonna jump me first.

"I have tuna." The offer comes from Doggett.

"Hey, you said I could have that," Soso says, pouting.

"Are you the one with a stand-still in a couple hours? I don't think so."

Has this place been theirs from day one? They all look so comfortable. Comfortable with each other. Like a team. And now I'm here and they're offering me food…

"Just take it already," Doggett says, bobbing the bag at me with her arm outstretched.

"Hey, is it true you got to the table with Fig?" Luscheck asks, abandoning his spot in the rocker to get closer to the group. A group I'm apparently a part of.

I nod, words still failing me. Jefferson was right. Fig has somehow managed to change their minds about me.

"For shit's sake, Vause, take the bag!" I swipe for the bag at the same moment Doggett's arm drops. She massages it dramatically, but with a smile.

I've never seen this side of her. Of any of them actually. The conversational, normal people side…

"Thanks," I mumble, my mouth slowly starting to work the way it's supposed to. "And yeah, it was fucking awesome being up there with her," I say, digging into a killer tuna salad on fresh white bread.

And that's what loosens everyone up, because they all start talking at the same time. Asking about the surgery, about Fig's technique, all of it. And then everyone gets a turn to spill about their day so far – something gross that happened, or something horrific, or mindcrushingly boring. Even Soso's a part of it.

"I heard Chapman ripped you a new one," O'Neill says to Jefferson, and the atmosphere shifts immediately as tension builds.

I'm looking at her, but I can feel furtive glances being thrown in my direction. I guess it's gonna take a while before the reflex Chapman-Vause reaction goes away.

"Started to, but then she got more interested in beating herself up. This thing with McFaker hit her hard. You should've seen her in the OR… looked like she was ready to punch something."

"That doesn't sound like Piper." It's out of my mouth before I can check my brain to call her Chapman, and now the looks I'm getting aren't so furtive. Well shit. "I'm just saying… she doesn't get that way."

"You're right," Jefferson says. "But I think it might've been a whole bunch of stuff leading up to that point that just made it worse." And the way she looks at me, it's impossible to miss her meaning. She was there the whole time. Heard our whole conversation. So of course she means me. And Laney there with me… That's what shook the foundation of one of the sturdiest surgeons on call. Shit.

The tension splits wide open as the space we're in starts to echo with the sound of eight pagers going off at the same time. The trenches. First Jefferson waylaying me, now this. It's like the universe is trying to keep me from getting to Piper and it's pulling its best punches.

"Last one there's Caputo's cock fluffer," Luscheck calls over his shoulder as he sets off in a run.

Gurneys clatter and brown paper bags go flying as the rest of us follow.

Author's Note: Wow you guys, thank you so much for all the amazing comments you've left for this story so far. Each and every one makes me smile:)

I know everyone is waiting for the big surgery and the Vauseman talk but something happened that gave me the opportunity to increase the drama... and I could never say no to more drama! Bear with me. This is going to make it better;)

Oh wait... something just exploded in Chapter 18! Guess I have to go see what that's about:)