Gunrunners // A Harry Styles AU

2. The Sympathetic Doctor Seski

Monday 14th January 2019

A flatlining noise will forever be something that makes my ears bleed. It's a sign of failure; it's screaming at me that I ultimately fucked up my one and only job - to keep the person on my table alive. And today that's exactly what's happening.

I'm running from the operating room, my bloody gloves already cast away into the clinical waste bin, my mask pulled down around my neck in desperate avoidance of hearing the time of death being called. I don't need another reminder that I couldn't complete my one task. Tears are already running freely down my face, staining my cheeks and marking my scrubs as they drop from my chin. I'm hot and bothered with panic, struggling to breathe while I make my escape, and eventually I find myself having to lean against a wall to calm down.

The girl on the operating table was sixteen years old - in her last year of school and about to head into her exams. And now she didn't even have the opportunity to make a life for herself because I couldn't save her. I'm fucking good at my job and I should've been able to keep her alive. Why the fuck couldn't I keep her alive?

I'm sure I've saved people in worse conditions - even older people already on the brink of death. Part of me feels that it should've just been so much easier for me to save her life, because I've done it every day for nearly three years now. But apparently these two bullets were just too close to the poor girl's young heart.

Doctors, nurses and patients pass me by in the hall as I allow myself to continue breaking down. Some look at me with concern, some bear expressions that make me feel like I've been let out of a home, and some don't bat an eyelid. I can tolerate the latter the most. Being invisible right about now would be a gift. Yeah, I'd give pretty much anything at this moment not to be seen.

Someone calls my name nearby, firstly by my official title, but when I shake my head in denial - refusal to accept that I'm a doctor when I can't even save someone, whoever it is that's after me opts for use of my first name instead. I take a deep breath, swallowing the lump in my throat before meeting the eyes of my senior. So much for not being seen.

"Nikita, come with me." Doctor Teese hums, resting a hand on my shoulder and nodding in the opposite direction.

He'd been in the room with me when I failed, he'd have been the one that called the time of death on her, and now he wanted to talk to me about it? I've never been one to outright refuse a senior member of staff without valid reason, but I'm reluctant to have any kind of discussion with him about it immediately. Why would I want to?

Still, I follow the doctor to a supply cupboard nearby with no one else in it. While it's a slightly strange place to hold a serious conversation, I'm trusting enough to believe he really only is here to have a professional conversation with me.

"I know what just happened is really shit," I'm surprised by his choice of words, but then again I suppose that doctors have little concern or care when it comes to their language in stressed situations. I certainly don't. "But you did everything you could."

"She died." I choke over tears. "I've failed, Vince - she should be living."

"Niki," he sighs, shaking his head slowly. "I know what you mean, but just remember I was in there with you. I know you did what you could, but honestly it was already too late before we even put her on that table. Do not beat yourself up about this, you tried, and unfortunately in a circumstance like this, it's all you can do."

Vince's words might be a mild comfort, but it still doesn't change that for the second time in my short career as a doctor and a surgeon, someone has died in my care on the operating table. I wipe my wet eyes, but a reminder of something more terrifying brings the tears back.