Marty's Horrible, Terrible, Very Bad Day

by Dakota Cassidy

  Dr. Valentine, crankier than ever before over some disease that left him the last of his kind, had all but shuffled this case off on him, privately labeling it hopeless and “only a matter of time” to his colleagues.

  Hudson decided to take on the role of consultant, not because Marty’s case presented nothing exciting, or new and innovative to learn…but because he wasn’t so sure she was the lost cause Dr. Valentine had labeled her.

  First, her brain activity was on point. So was her BP and all the other stats that go along with a healthy paranormal.

  It was just something…

  Something. Something he felt in his gut kept him from giving up hope. Rationally, he realized some of it had to do with her friends’ dedication to her. Being the only phoenix in existence to date, he didn’t have any family, and though he did have friends here at the hospital, they weren’t like Marty’s friends.

  These friends were ride or die, and he secretly cheered them and their tenacity—he admired the whole slew of them, in fact.

  “Dr. Khalil?” Heath, Wanda’s husband, prompted from behind her, his large hands on her shoulders, his face full of questions.

  Hudson cleared his throat and sat back in his office chair, the creak of it almost deafening as their expectant silence sat in the air of his office. “I’m sorry. It’s been a very chaotic day and I’m still processing. Please, refresh me and tell me exactly what you’re offering and what you hope to achieve.”

  Nina leaned forward and all but growled at him as she eyed him with a narrow gaze. Her T-shirt read “Keep It Up and You’ll Be The Strange Smell in My Trunk,” and he believed that was a very fair representation of who she was.

  Of all the people in and out of Marty’s room, she was the most intimidating, and he said that in the manliest manner he could summon while still reluctantly admitting she was a force to be reckoned.

  This woman was not afraid to demand the nurses do her bidding or she’d do something ugly to their organs, and she definitely wasn’t afraid of grumpy old Dr. Valentine.

  If he were honest, even he was a little afraid of Dr. Valentine and the orders he barked like a rabid dog on a chain. But he was a superior doctor, and Hudson had learned a great deal in the time since he’d been here, finally working with other paranormals like himself.

  In fact, if it hadn’t been for Dr. Hudson, he wouldn’t have a job at this particular hospital. He’d mentored him and recommended him for this position. So he was willing to put up with his crabby demeanor and constant demands, for the knowledge he got in return.

  Nina eyed him in that scalding critical way that he’d cringe under if he had less pride.

  She tapped a lean finger on his desk. “Christ, what is it with you medical geniuses? You’re all a bunch of absentminded dorks. Pay attention because I don’t have all damn day to futz around with you. The short of it is, we fucking want you to move into Marty’s mansion and monitor her around the clock. You’ll have everything you need to do it. All those crazy-ass machines she needs to keep her breathing, a suite of your own, a personal chef, Internet, satellite TV, and whatever the hell else you need to make you comfortable. We’ll pay you a buttload of money, and compensate you for whatever time you take off from the hospital, too. That means a buttload more money. Capice?”

  Steepling his hands under his chin, his eyes instantly went to Marty’s husband, Keegan, who stood in the corner of his glass-and-steel office, overlooking a stone fountain in the square of the complex.

  The eerie light of the end of the day, a bruised purple and pink, highlighted the weary lines in his face.

  Keegan worried Hudson almost as much as Marty and her current medical state. This large, imposing, dark-haired pseudo linebacker adored his wife. Hudson saw the agony in his eyes every time he sat next to her still form and tenderly held her hand. He saw the pain on his face as he whispered to her late into the night, and when he brought their little girl, Hollis, in for visits.

  There was real love between these two people. He felt it every time he entered Marty’s room and Keegan was reading to her or brushing his wife’s hair, and he wanted nothing more than for them to live out their days together.

  It was a love he’d never experienced, and in his many reincarnations, hadn’t quite witnessed with the intensity in which he did with them—all of them, for that matter. They all were as devoted to each other as they were to Marty.

  Maybe the life-mate thing was real after all, and it made him that much more determined to help Marty get well. But he only had so much power, only so much knowledge at hand to make that a reality.

  What he really wanted to know was if this was what Keegan wanted for his wife. Hudson got the impression this man wasn’t one to be steamrolled—especially as the alpha of his pack. He was accustomed to making hard choices and taking control.

  But in times like this, when the woman you loved more than you loved anything else was knocking on death’s door, you tended to lose your voice and become overwhelmed by the other voices and opinions surrounding you.

  He’d seen it time and again, and he did his best to sort through the emotions so they’d make sound medical decisions based on fact rather than based on what was in their hearts.

  Marty’s immediate family and their wishes were the most important things to him right now. Sure, he fully understood these women were like family to her, but in the end, Keegan had the final say.

  “Keegan? How do you feel about this?” he finally asked, his eyes fixating on his face so he could measure his emotions.

  Keegan stood up straight, his full height daunting, but his eyes were riddled with sadness as he crossed his arms over is barrel chest.

  His sharp jaw twitched as he scrubbed a tired hand over his eyes. “I’m all for it if you think it will help her. If being at home is something you think will make a difference in her recovery, I don’t care what it costs. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll give you whatever you want or need. I just want my wife to get better. I just want her to come home…”

  Hudson watched Keegan swallow hard, and he knew the effort to keep it together was taking its toll on the man. In that vein, he had to be frank with these people and the snarling vampire named Nina, who sat eyeing him like he was the devil himself.

  He didn’t want to dash their hopes, but he didn’t want to encourage them either. The fine line between those two outcomes was precarious at best, and it was the part of his job he hated the most.

  Gazing at their tired faces, masks of worry and fear only enhanced by the fluorescent lights in his office, he had to make sure they knew what they were in for.

  “You do understand there’s no guarantee this will work, don’t you? It might not change a single thing. Basically, in light of the generous offer you’ve made me, you’ll just be paying ten times as much as you would for a home health-care nurse.”

  Nina snorted, curling her lean fingers into a fist, and he wasn’t sure if he should duck or prepare to do battle. “You sound like that asshole Dr. Doomsday.”

  Hudson fought a snicker. Dr. Valentine had been called many things in the time they’d worked together, but Dr. Doomsday was pretty damn funny.

  Still, he wasn’t wrong about the shape Marty was in. A month was a long time to be in a coma on life support. They hadn’t been able to take her off the breathing tube with any success.

  But the time could come when a choice about taking her off life support would have to be made, and he wanted them to be ready for that.

  Flicking his pen, he looked Nina directly in the eye and forced himself not to flinch. “Dr. Doomsday isn’t wrong in cautioning you all. I just want to be clear on where we stand. I’m no miracle worker, Nina. I can monitor Marty. I can order all sorts of meds and handle whatever crisis comes along, but I can’t make her wake up. She either will or she won’t come out of this.”

  Wanda’s inhale was soft but sharp, her pretty eyes watery, but he had to hand it to her, she was tough as nails for a woman who looked l
ike she was about to give birth any second. She’d weathered this like a champ, and she never veered off the path.

  “But you do agree being in her own environment, around her own things and the people she loves could help her, don’t you?”

  He did believe that. He truly believed being surrounded by people who loved you, who’d talk to you and sit with you, was a lifeline to pulling someone back from a comatose state. He’d seen it happen before and it still made his chest tighten.

  So Hudson nodded. “I believe that talking to the patient, sharing normal routines, taking them out of the sterile environment of the hospital and into their own home are all crucial to healing, yes, but that doesn’t come without caveats, Wanda. Any manner of crisis could emerge while she’s this vulnerable. Infection is just one of many that comes to mind. If that happens, I can’t support her being out of the hospital. I’d need more help than you can hire—not to mention x-ray machines and MRI scans and so on. Right now, her vitals are sound, but that may not always be the case.”

  “But that does mean you’ll support it unless something major comes up?” Keegan asked, the hope in his blue eyes searing Hudson’s gut.

  To most of his colleagues, this would sound crazy, leaving a perfectly good fellowship in cardiothoracic surgery to monitor a rich woman in her home who was on the verge of death.

  But he didn’t subscribe to the type of medicine his fellow surgeons did. He wasn’t always as good at compartmentalizing the sorrow of loved ones as they were and it remained his biggest stumbling block. His compassion sometimes screwed with his reason, and Dr. Valentine wasn’t the first mentor to tell him as much.

  Yet, the money wasn’t really the reason he was considering this offer. Money wasn’t why he’d become a doctor hundreds of years ago, and why he became one time and again. He might not remember much from his past lifetimes, people in particular, but he did remember his passion for helping the sick, which always led him back to doctoring in one specialty or another.

  He was considering it because he’d come to like these people and their loyalty to Marty. If only all his patients had this many people on their side, the stats for length of hospital stays for the paranormal would surely go way down.

  And he liked the work they did in the paranormal community. They were a team, and he was nothing if not a team player.

  Looking at them, he rose and smiled. “I guess that’s what I’m saying, Keegan. But I need you all to be clear, there may come a time when decisions have to be made. I don’t like it, but I would only do you a disservice if I didn’t warn you.”

  From out of nowhere, the surly, oftentimes angry Nina launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him so tight, he almost couldn’t breathe. Once more reinforcing the idea she could probably take him.

  “Thank you, Doc. Thanks for helping us bring our girl home,” she muttered before just as quickly setting him from her and shrugging off her emotional outburst, straightening her spine and clearing her throat.

  “So just make us a list of anything and everything you need, Dr. Khalil, medical and personal,” Nina’s husband Greg instructed, his hard face a little brighter. “We’ll make sure you have it all in place. Name it and it’s yours.”

  Nina dropped her head to Greg’s chest and closed her eyes, burying her face in his black sweater as he wrapped an arm around her slender waist and dropped a kiss on the top of her shiny, dark head, pushing the ribbons of thick hair from her face. “It’s going to be okay, honey. We’ll make it okay. Promise.”

  Wanda reached out a hand to him and latched on, her warm palm smooth. “Thank you, Dr. Khalil,” she whispered hoarsely, squeezing his hand. “I can’t tell you how much this means to us. Whatever you want, we’ll make sure you have it, and I’ll personally see to it you’re as comfortable as you would be in your own home.”

  “And if she can’t, I will,” Heath offered gruffly.

  Hudson’s chest tightened at their gratitude—he only hoped he could pull off this out-of-the-ordinary request.

  Because he wanted Marty Flaherty to live and prosper and watch her daughter grow.

  Probably because he had no roots to call his own, and leaving a child without a mother was the last thing he wanted for Hollis.

  He knew what it was to live with no ties to anyone in particular, to leave behind attachments and material items of comfort, and it was a lonely road.

  Very lonely indeed.

  “This is flat-out crazycakes, Rocky. If you get caught—”

  “I know, I know, Pepper. You know nothing. You were never here,” Rocky responded as she stuffed a pair of jeans into a duffle bag and looked around her small bedroom for anything else she might need. “But I can’t just let this go, can I? I mean, this is Marty Flaherty of OOPS, for reaper’s sake.”

  Pepper nodded, her shiny hair sweeping over her shoulders. “Yeah. Can you believe how lucky you are to escort someone so famous? Once it’s done, everybody will be talking about it for days!”

  Rocky made a face at her friend as she reached for her lip-gloss on the top of her dresser and sighed at her reflection in the mirror above. “Lucky? That’s not what I’m calling this reap, Pepper. What I am calling it is wrong. Something’s not right about this, and I intend to find out what. Sure, maybe the universe wanted her to have a stroke and a heart attack and for all I know, a colonoscopy and a brain scan, but it did not—does not—want her to be dead. She’s part of the glue that keeps the paranormal world together. She helps people. We need her. The paranormal and human world both need her.”

  Pepper threw up her hands and plopped down on Rocky’s bed, pulling at a lace throw pillow and tucking it to her belly. She scrunched up her pretty face as she watched Rocky pack a bag to do what Pepper considered not only presumptuous, but unthinkable.

  “There are plenty of souls who help people, Rocky, but they still have to die. That’s Reaper 101.”

  Rocky rolled her eyes and grabbed her favorite after-bath spray, throwing it in the oversized duffle. “But you’re talking human souls. I’m talking immortal ones here. Immortal being the key word. How many immortals have you escorted through the In Between?”

  Pepper stared at her unblinking, her round hazel eyes wide, but she remained silent.

  Rocky jabbed a finger in the air to make her point. “Exactly. None. That’s how many. And I know the rules, Pepper. I know them well. I’m not some novice.”

  Pepper waggled a warning finger at her. “Well, if you know the rules so well, then you know we aren’t supposed to become emotionally attached to our assigned souls—and that’s where your trouble begins every single time. Because you do get attached. Remember the really sweet teacher from Pasadena doing that stint for Teachers Without Borders in that remote village in Uganda?”

  Rocky straightened and turned her back to Pepper, taking a deep breath. Yes, the sweet teacher from Pasadena’s reap had almost gone awry. Horribly awry.

  But in her defense, she had a defense. “He taught sign language to impoverished deaf children in Africa, Pepper. I mean, deaf children who’d had no other way to communicate until he came along and taught them. Was I supposed to be supportive of the fact that he was trampled by a herd of elephants? Those kids needed him,” she reasoned.

  God, she really hated her job sometimes—most times, in fact. Reaping was no way to live out your immortality. She used to lie in bed at night and wonder what it would be like to be almost any other species but a reaper.

  “But it’s not up to you to decide who lives and who doesn’t, Rocky. You’re just supposed to collect their souls and call it a day. Your heart is way too big and you’re way too soft.”

  Soft. Sure. She was soft. If caring about the people trying to make the world a better place was soft, just call her squishy. Everyone called her that—the reaper with the heart of gold. She’d been teased constantly for her wishy-washy reaps, but up until now, she’d always stuck to the rules—mostly.

  “Well, I’m
glad you have no heart and you can collect souls with no regrets, but I saw him with those kids, and he didn’t deserve to be trampled by a herd of elephants. So I said so.”

  Pepper gave her the look—the one that said she was a moron for doubting the universe. “Yeah, you sure did, and because you took so long to collect the poor man’s soul while you dilly-dallied with the higher ups, he was stranded in a third world country with some witch doctor who, because he had no medical training at all, thought the best way to heal that selfless, kind, sweet man, was to dance around his jacked-up body and shake his spear at him while he muttered incantations instead of letting him pass in peace.”

  Rocky winced. Okay, there was that. “He was unconscious when I decided to question authority. He wasn’t in any pain. I made sure of that.”

  That was true. She’d made certain he wasn’t aware of anything before she’d gotten on her high horse and bucked the system—for all the good it had done her.

  Pepper lobbed the pillow at her. “Is that really the point, my friend? Or is the point that you shouldn’t be questioning anything? You should be shutting your face and doing your job so no one gets hurt. And mark my words, if you keep questioning a reap, someone’s going to get hurt. Probably you—and if you don’t, there’s still your father who’s going to scalp you alive.”

  Her father. He was a whole other subject for a nice sit-down session at therapy. They’d been at odds most of her life. Because of her compassion for a soul and his lack thereof. He was all business and she was all heart, and the twain never met.

  “And that’s not the only time something like this has happened,” Pepper continued, curling her legs under her and giving Rocky the infamous stern Catholic nun face. “You do remember the hot guy from the In Between, don’t you? What was it you called him again?”

  “Hot In Between Guy,” Rocky responded woodenly.

  And did she remember the hot In Between guy? Hah! Sure she remembered. He was all but two feet from her just yesterday, but what she’d really remember from now on was the regret she felt for ever telling Pepper about her time with Hudson when they’d met at the In Between.