Shadows | A Forever Fan-Fiction - Sequel to Lights

Chapter Twenty-One: Forget, Don't Forget

I rewrote this chapter about ten times. Plus, writers block is a total pain. It's resolved, though! Sorry for the wait. :)
-Madame Moonheart

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When I strode into the hospital the next morning, I was greeted by a roaring cascade of applause. I stood there, mildly confused as my resignation letter crumpled in my fist. I hadn't done anything. Unless...

I glanced up, towards the staircase in the middle of the hospital. Duvall looked down on the scene expressionlessly, his eyes narrowed. When he noticed me looking at him bewilderedly, he offered the tiniest of shrugs and vanished, off to his office.

I would have honestly thought that the attendings would be throttling me for snatching away their chances to claim the title of chief.

"Well, well," Eliza mused as she scooted past, carrying an armful of clipboards. "Look who came around."

"He's back," I said absently.

"Yep," she sighed. "By the way, I'm assigning you to paediatrics today." She handed me a clipboard.

"But I'm-"

"No longer Duvall's paperwork slave," she murmured. "Well, it's saving me from Choe and Mason, today. They both want to eat my soul, since- actually, nevermind. You look like a zombie. You go on and do your thing." And then I was alone, dazed and unhappy. I made my way up the stairs and into the surgical wing.

Carefully, I stumbled down the hallway, stopping in front of Duvall's office. My hand closed around the door handle, but I couldn't move. For a moment, I considered crying. Better to get it over with here, rather than in front of him, right?

Nothing happened. I choked, I sobbed, but only sound came out. I finally gave up, and focused on gathering my thoughts.

Only then did I go inside.

Duvall told in the back of the room, behind his desk, facing the only window in the office. He stared outwards, through the window, and across the rain-speckled cityscape that was unfolded before him. It was silent, almost tranquil, but I was sure it wouldn't last. I edged forwards, and quietly laid my letter on his desk. I backed away.

"Wait," he grumbled. I paused. He turned around. We stared at each other for a long, long time.

"Um," I managed to say. "Goodbye." He began to say something else, to protest, but I was already gone. I didn't want to hear his chastisements, or his icy, hateful dysphemisms. I just wanted to remember the hospital as it was when I had first come - horrible, but full of opportunity. Full of joy, and pain, and unfathomable amounts of understanding.

When I was outside, I doubled over and caught my breath. Suddenly, I found myself choking on laughter. I was free. I'd never have to see Duvall again, and I certainly wouldn't have to deal with the long, tiresome hours of my residency.

I was free.

Out of nowhere, my pager had a seizure in my pocket, and I fumbled for it, realising that I had forgotten to turn it in. One of the heads of paediatrics, wanting to know where I was. My laughter died in my mouth. I suddenly understood that I would never help anyone in that way again, that I would never hold a scalpel again. After a while of listening to rain smack against cement and glass, I pried the backing off of my pager and took out the batteries, sliding them into my pocket. I'd just have to ask Dr. Morgan to return them for me.

That evenining, I went to Jo's for dinner. She wasn't home yet, but I knew she would be coming. I guess that I'd have to move back in with her. I sighed as I sat down at the kitchen table, crossing my arms as I suddenly felt very cold and desolate inside. I couldn't go back. I didn't really even want to. If I did, I'd just end up begging for my job and being beaten back down.

A series of loud, sharp, rapid knocks on the door tore me from my thoughts. I rose quickly, startled, my knees thumping against the table as I hurried over to get the door.

"Jo, have you seen-" Dr. Morgan began. He broke off when he saw that it wasn't Jo, but just me. "Lights, where have you...?"

"I quit," I explained, clearing my throat uncomfortably.

"Oh," he said, almost disappointedly. "Yes, I heard."

"Yes," I repeated. "Yeah."

He fidgeted on the stairs for a moment, before speaking again. "Well, may I come in?" he enquired morosely.

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled. "Um, Jo isn't home, yet. She's still at the station. Since she became lieutenant, she's been busy."

"I heard," he said again as he moved past me. He plunked down at the kitchen table, dropping his briefcase down and sighing.

"So," I sniffed, sitting down across from him.

"I don't think that Duvall-"

"Don't!" I shouted rapidly. "I- Sorry. Please, let's just not talk about it- him."

Dr. Morgan blinked, taken aback, but he recovered quickly and moved on. "Alright," he sighed. "Then I'll start on the other thing I wanted to talk about. I've gathered a small portion of intel on what the Maverick are doing, and none of it seems of importance."

"But this is Adam were talking about," I pointed out. "If he took over the Maverick, then he has to have some reason as to why."

"I was thinking the same," Dr. Morgan agreed. "Anyways, in addition, I haven't found anything that can tie Nicholson to the Maverick. I think..." Dr. Morgan paused, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. "I think that Nicholson may be immortal, as well."

"Oh, joy," I mumbled sarcastically. "Shall we go and ask him? Ooh, and let's bring a knife. Maybe we can play the knife game, see how long pit takes for us to actually start killing each other!"

"I'm being serious!" he exclaimed exasperatedly.

"I know," I muttered. "Nevermind. Continue."

He was cut off by the happy trills of Jean Breval's Cello Sonata in C Major. He blinked uncertainly, as if he had forgotten that he owned a cell phone, before fumbling for his briefcase and spilling papers everywhere. Finally, he picked up. "Hello? Oh, Lucas! How are-? Oh, that's simply splendid! Thank you very much. I look forwards to seeing you tomorrow." He eyed the phone for a moment before hanging up.

"What was that about?" I mused. "Something good, at last?"

"I got my old job back," Dr. Morgan informed me cheerily. I was afraid he was about to get up and do a tap dance on the table. "I ought to go write up my resignation." He began to gather up his papers, stuffing them carelessly into his briefcase and humming a few of the notes to the sonata. I rolled my eyes, smiling to myself amusedly.

"That's good news," I said at last, following him to the door. "What's even better is that you and Lucas are... well, not exactly friends, but... you're talking. It's certainly a start."

"Yes, yes," he rushed. "I'll drop by later, since I have to talk to Jo about this." He hustled out of the door, and back into the misty evening darkness.

"See you," I called, but he was already gone. There was a pause, a peaceful silence. I made my way back to the kitchen. As I sat back down, my foot hit a folder full of papers, scattering them across the floor. Dr. Morgan must have left them, accidentally. I started to pick them up, and I couldn't help but look at them. I was about to go after him, when there was another knock on the door. I stood up, assuming it was him, holding the papers and preparing to ask him about the information that he'd left behind.

My mouth fell open as I saw who was on the other side.

"Pleasant evening, isn't it?" a silky voice mused from the steps. "It is so rainy, though. Unfortunate. You really should move. I wouldn't want Henry's information in my movements getting damaged too badly." All I could do was gape and obey, turning away shockedly, and trying to think of a way out of my new predicament.

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