One Life ✓

Chapter 6: The Chicago Med Shift

A/N: Thank you all for reading this story! It's been a long time coming and I'm glad I've been able to get this far at all :0

P.S. That above picture is definitely my favorite staff vs. Stohl moment!

TC—In an ambulance to Gaffney Chicago Medical Center, Chicago, IL

All of our success is bent on Grace. I'm not surprised. She's the best doctor out of us all.

I watch Grace make the midsection incision, her tight coil of hair unraveling, falling across her cheek like a curtain. As I use my scalpel to nudge the glass shards out of Lydia's forehead, I tuck Grace's locks behind her ear.

She smiles at me, still brilliant even after today's events. I'm lost in Grace's eyes until Natalie taps me and I return to dislodging the pieces.

Suddenly, the monitor goes wild.

"What the heck?" Grace yells. "Vitals were stable for twenty whole minutes!"

"We don't get to choose what we get," says Jordan. "For now, Grace, halt delivery. We need to get Lydia out of v-fib. Natalie, start compressions very carefully."

"Must be that pinot noir in her brain," I remark, readying the paddles. "Charge to 150. We can't risk anything with the baby. Hold compressions."

This reminds me of Jordan. I can't stop the memories from coming. They flood in fast. I can see on her face, too, the regret when she said "no," when we lost our baby.

Grace punches in the numbers.

"Clear!" I yell.

Everyone moves away from the gurney, and I shock the patient.

The monitor stops flatlining and picks up.

"Sinus rhythm," Grace declares.

We all relax, no longer tensed.

"So, the blow by blow," I begin, "is that the alcohol in Lydia's brain is causing it to malfunction and mix up the signals to the heart. I'm sorry, but if we don't get her up to the OR for your surgeon to sort this out, we'll lose her. Ironically, not due to the attack, but due to wine she didn't even drink."

"Baby's gonna have to come out." Grace reaches into the incision she made earlier. "Soon, the dysfunction will reach the womb."

"Do your thing, Grace," I encourage her, hugging her from behind. She's so strong, so talented, to do what she's doing now.

"C'mon, now," she whispers gently.

After a few minutes, I hear a cry. Then more wailing. Grace holds a baby girl, fussing and kicking, covered in various liquids. Is this what Jordan and I could've had?

"Aww, cutie," Grace coos, cleaning the baby. "Beautiful like your mommy, yes? Tee, the cord?"

I clamp and cut the umbilical cord. This could've been my life.

But it's a little late for that.

Will—Gaffney Chicago Medical Center, Chicago, IL

I'm tapped on the shoulder by reliable Maggie. "Dr. Halstead, we've got a crazy emergency coming in. This one you won't believe."

"What happened?" I walk alongside Maggie to the ER dock.

"Long story short, some fool hit a pregnant woman on the head with a wine bottle at the Med Convention. Jordan and Nat were there and met Grace and her half-boyfriend TC, this Texan doctor who Jordan apparently has a past with, according to Reese's psych skills. So, Grace, bless her, saw that this woman's amniotic sac had ruptured, and did a c-section in a moving ambulance. Let's not forget that some of this bottle glass had wine on it, which leaked into Mom's head slash brain. They had v-fib on the ride here, but TC got her into sinus. Is that good for you?" Maggie barely draws a breath.