The Resident, except it's not

S1 Ep. 10: If Devon's Pleading Failed

He knew he should have just grabbed some crutches as soon as he got to Chastain, but the emotional part of him - correction, the dominant part of him - said he deserved it. For Lily, for those he didn't save but probably could've. He'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt him when he crumpled her name up and threw it in the trash, but he wanted to forget. Forgetting meant he could go back to treating his patients.

"You're hurt," Jacoby had pointed out. He simply smiled and nodded and moved on, because he wanted, needed, to forget. The cortisone he grabbed from the pharmacy helped for a little bit, but he couldn't bring himself to grab another, or even grab something a little stronger. He'd been shot in the knee once, so he could manage a sprained ankle.

Perhaps that was why he was so determined to fix Dr. Jacoby - apart from the fact that she was his mentor and one of the most caring people on the planet. Fixing her 'ghosts' would make him forget. Logically, he knew he should talk about it, but talking was never his strong suit. Moving on? That he could do, even if he wasn't really moving on.

After every other possible explanation of his failed, he called in Mina to help. "Have her rebalance the machine in OR 3. Tell her anything you want... just don't make it weird for her," he'd instructed. Okafor had jumped at the opportunity to help Dr. Jacoby, just as Conrad had expected. He forced a smile as they left the room, trying to casually lean on the bed like he wasn't in excruciating pain. When he got home, he'd ice and elevate it, but he'd be fine for another two hours.

Of course, he couldn't stop the groan that escaped his throat as he started walking, nor could he help massaging his ankle to try and ease the pain. Never mind that it made it hurt more; two more hours. Just two more hours.

But Devon, with his smug little smirk and arms behind his back said, "So, the way I see it, you have two options." Conrad glared at him; he really didn't need this right now.

"One, you continue to hobble around here like an ass," he paused, glancing at his ankle. "Eventually, you'll completely tear your ligament and require surgery."

"Or, two," Devon gestured to the four objects pushed up against the wall, "you pick one of these."

Conrad scoffed and tried to push past him, but that obviously didn't work out well when Devon stepped right in front of him. Before the younger man could say anything, Conrad had him pushed up against the wall inches away from snapping his left arm.

"Thanks for your input," he seethed, moving Devon's left arm further up, "but I'm fine. Let me pass or you'll end up in the ER with no idea how you got there. Got it?"

Devon nodded reluctantly and Conrad released his arm, hobbling past him. He would be just fine for two more hours, and if he really needed to he could grave some cortisone from one of the nurses' carts. The latter was starting to sound like a really good idea; that is, until some young led student cams running around the corner and knocked him to the ground, much like that biker had.

He could feel the snap of his ligament as he fell, but his cry of pain was mixed in with the youth's yelp. As soon as he landed, he reached for his ankle, scooting himself up against the wall.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you, and I was late for a seminar by Dr. Bell, and... I'm really sorry!" The med student apologized frantically. Conrad grit his teeth and leaned his head back against the walls, black spots dotting his vision from the pain.

"Woah, are you okay?" asked the med student, kneeling down in front of him. Retaining some level of competence, Conrad pulled of his boot and rolled the sock down enough to see his black and blue swollen ankle.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered through a clenched jaw. Using the wall to push himself up, he forced himself to stand, but as soon as he put any weight in his ankle his knees buckled and he went crashing to the floor for the third time that day.

"Conrad?" He heard Devon call, then the rushing of his footsteps. "Conrad, let me see it," he pleaded, trying to pry his fingers away. Finally he gave in to his requests, lifting his hand away. Devin cursed and glared up at him. "This is your own fault, you know. If you'd just taken one of the damn things, you would've been fine."

"Actually, if he hasn't crashed into me because he was so intent on seeing HODAD's seminar then I would've been fine. But sure, blame it on me. Not like I don't deserve it," Conrad grumbled, annoyed that Devon now had to practically carry him to an exam room.

"Look, you lost Lily, and I saved her once. I was a better doctor than you were for her. But you can't be the only one in pain, okay? It hurts all of us. So let me help, for once in your life, goddammit!" Devon said, huffing.

Conrad was silent, more focused on blinking back the salty tears that had sprung to his eyes. "I want to forget," he said plainly. Devon exhaled, although he wasn't sure if it was in relief or understanding. "I know, Conrad."

"I know."