Chapter 15 Off Tempo #3
"I need lorazepam," Theo called out, not looking away from Catherine. "Five milligrams IV, now."
A nurse appeared at her elbow with the medication drawn, and Theo registered gratitude somewhere beneath the terror.
“I’ve got it,” Theo said, taking the syringe.
She found the IV port in Catherine's arm, pushed the medication with steady pressure, and watched Catherine's body for a response. The seizing continued for seconds that stretched into small eternities before gradually subsiding, muscles relaxing incrementally until Catherine lay still again.
"Catherine," Theo tried again, desperate for any sign of consciousness. "Please, squeeze my hand if you can hear me."
Nothing. Catherine's hand remained limp in Theo's grip, warm but unresponsive.
"Dr. Brennan."
The voice cut through Theo's focus with the authority that made residents straighten instinctively. But not her. Not now.
She looked up to find Dr. Morrison striding toward them, his posture rigid with the professional disapproval he wore like a second skin.
His gaze moved from Theo to Catherine and back again, taking in their proximity, the way Theo's hands hadn't left Catherine's body.
"Do you know this patient?" Dr. Morrison demanded, stopping beside the gurney with arms crossed over his chest.
Theo didn't respond immediately. Her attention remained on Catherine, monitoring her breathing, watching for any change in her stillness that might signal another seizure.
She adjusted the oxygen mask someone had placed over Catherine's face, checking the seal, ensuring proper flow.
"Dr. Brennan." Dr. Morrison's voice sharpened, taking on the edge that made medical students flinch. "I asked you a question."
"Yes." The word came out, barely audible over the ER's ambient noise.
"Then you know you can't treat her." Dr. Morrison moved closer, his presence imposing in ways designed to remind Theo of hierarchy. "Step back. Now."
Theo's hands tightened on the gurney's rail, knuckles whitening with the force of her grip. Every instinct screamed against leaving Catherine, against letting someone else take over when she was the one who cared whether she lived or died.
"Theo," a different voice said, gentle where Morrison's had been harsh.
Natalie appeared beside her, one hand settling on Theo's shoulder with pressure that communicated both support and instruction. Her expression carried understanding that Morrison's lacked, recognition of what it cost to step away from someone who mattered.
She moved between Theo and the gurney with careful positioning that physically displaced Theo while somehow making it feel less like dismissal.
"I'll take care of her," Natalie said quietly, her eyes meeting Theo's with unwavering certainty. "I promise."
Theo nodded, not trusting her voice. Her hands released the gurney slowly, fingers uncurling with reluctance that felt physical.
She took one step back, then another, watching as Natalie moved into the space she'd occupied, hands assessing Catherine with the same clinical efficiency Theo had been employing moments before.
"Let's get her to bay one," Natalie directed the surrounding nurses. "I want a full neurological workup, CT scan, blood work, including tox screen. Dr. Brennan, does the patient have any history of seizures?"
Theo felt like she was about to cry when she had to admit, “I don’t know.”
The gurney rolled away, Catherine's pale face disappearing behind curtains that swished closed with terrible finality.
Theo stood frozen in the space they'd left behind, her hands still raised as if she might reach for Catherine across the distance.
She was aware of Dr. Morrison's continued presence, of his disapproval radiating like heat, of other staff moving around them with the understanding of people who'd seen emotional complications before and knew better than to stare.
Dr. Morrison stepped closer, voice pitched low enough that only she could hear. "My office. Now."
Theo met his gaze directly, her shoulders straightening beneath her scrubs. "I’m going to bay one."
"You are aware of hospital policy regarding personal relationships with patients." The muscle in his jaw flickered.
"I'm aware I can't treat her." Theo's voice remained level despite the pressure building behind her sternum. "But I can wait while Dr. Huang does."
Morrison's jaw tightened. "You have patients of your own. And you still have four hours left on your shift."
"I'll hand over my patients." Theo kept her voice even. "I know there'll be consequences. Write me up, dock my pay, call the residency director. I'll deal with it. But unless we get hit with a mass casualty, I'm going to go be with Catherine."
Morrison's nostrils flared as he exhaled. He glanced toward Catherine's bay, then back at Theo. Without another word, he turned and stalked toward his office, white coat snapping behind him.
Theo's hands were still gloved, blue nitrile stretched tight across her knuckles, and she realized she'd been clenching her fists hard enough that her palms ached.
She forced her fingers to relax, to straighten, to hang at her sides with the appearance of composure even though her entire body felt like it might fly apart.
Luis remained beside her, his breathing harsh. "Is she going to be okay? I didn't know what else to do."
"You did good getting her here,” Theo said, her voice sounding distant to her own ears.
But she didn't know if Catherine would be okay.
Didn't know what had caused the seizure, didn't know if it was breakthrough activity from a known condition or something new and catastrophic.
She didn't know if Catherine had been hiding a diagnosis from her or if this was as terrifying and unexpected for Catherine as it was for Theo.
All she knew was that Catherine was behind that curtain, surrounded by medical professionals, being treated for a condition Theo hadn't known existed. And Theo was standing in the middle of her department, feeling more helpless than she'd ever felt in her life.