Necessary Medicine

by M. K. York

  “Okay. Fine.”

  Then Eli was gone, just like that, running after the gurney.

  * * *

  Neil returned the page—it was an emergency, after all, not Onc but a first responder. A gunshot-wound patient was on his way in. Accident while cleaning the gun, allegedly.

  “Okay,” said Neil. “I’ll get a team together.”

  The good news was that there was a trauma attending on that day. The bad news was that he mostly made Neil run the surgery. “You’re going to have to do this sooner rather than later. Better get used to it.”

  So Neil did. He forced Pete out of his mind, and he worked on the guy, whose injuries were mostly just gallbladder, which was in Neil’s comfort zone. It didn’t take him as long as he might have expected to get the guy stitched up and ready to go.

  After that he scrubbed out in a hurry and checked his phone. Eli had texted him a bunch of times.

  At the cath lab now

  They’re prepping him

  He was fighting, they’re sedating him

  LAD blocked, definite LV infarct

  Ballooned

  Stent placed

  As Neil watched, another text came up. In recovery now. Called his sister, she’s going to fly in

  He leaned heavily back against the hallway wall, sighing. How is he?

  He looks good

  Neil leaned his head back against the wall. Is he still out of it?

  Yes

  Should I come over?

  You can, don’t know if he will recognize you

  Neil stripped out of his bloody scrubs as fast as he could and got into clean ones, and headed over to Interventional Cardiology—for all the turf wars, he was profoundly glad they were there.

  He found Eli sitting next to Pete in the recovery room. Pete’s thinning hair was still plastered down with sweat, and his eyes weren’t really focusing; he was staring into the middle distance. Somebody had put him in a hospital gown.

  “Hey,” he said to Pete, softly, reaching for the hand that didn’t have an IV. He took it in both his. “Can you hear me?”

  Pete mumbled something unintelligible.

  “He’s pretty out of it.” Eli’s eyes were red.

  Neil squeezed his hand. “It’s okay,” he said to Pete. “You just let me know when you want to talk.”

  He grabbed another chair and dragged it up next to Eli.

  “So what’s the prognosis?”

  Eli shook his head. “Not bad. I mean, we need to keep an eye on him for a couple of hours to see how the cath did. We’re getting serial enzymes, but we know he had at least the STEMI we caught today. They got his LAD back open. So far, so good.”

  “His fucking heartburn,” murmured Neil.

  “Yes.” Eli rubbed at his eyes. “I should have known.”

  “Angina. It wasn’t the fucking beer.”

  “He got it sitting. Unstable angina. I feel like such an ass. I’m a cardiologist, for God’s sake.”

  Neil shook his head. “He wasn’t your patient. He said it was heartburn.”

  “He should have been seeing someone. I pulled up his med records. He hasn’t had so much as a checkup in years.”

  “Goddamn it.”

  “I know.” Eli looked back over at Pete. “He’s a fucking asshole, isn’t he?”

  “Hey,” protested Pete weakly.

  Neil was on his feet first, Eli right behind him. “Hey, asshole.”

  “How are you feeling?” asked Eli.

  “Dead,” said Pete, and winced.

  “Lucky for you, you have the best cardiologist on the West Coast.” Eli leaned over so Pete could see his face without moving.

  Pete rolled his eyes.

  “You got stented, okay? So we’re watching your heart for now, and you’re sticking around the hospital until we’re sure you’re going to be okay.”

  “‘M dying,” said Pete.

  “Not yet.” Eli shook his head.

  Pete shut his eyes in despair, a couple of tears escaping. “Feel shitty.”

  “That’s because you had a heart attack. You’re going to feel better. Do you want me to adjust your pain meds?”

  “Yeah,” Pete got out.

  “Okay,” said Eli, soothingly. “I’m going to do that.”

  Neil got another page. Eli looked over at him.

  “You should take that. Pete’s stable for now. I’ll text you if anything changes.”

  “Text me even if nothing changes,” said Neil. “Please.”

  “Okay.”

  It figured that the rest of the day was one long waltz between different departments, putting out one fire after another. Neil checked his phone whenever he could; there was usually something from Eli. Serial troponins in and ECG looking much better and drinking OJ

  That last one came in around 10:00 p.m., and Neil was getting to the end of his regular day.

  “Hey,” he said to the resident whose call night it was, “can I trade you call nights? I have a friend in the hospital and I just want to be here, and if I’m here anyway...”

  She shrugged. “When are you scheduled for?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “Sure. I don’t mind.”

  “Thanks.”

  So he went back over to see Pete one more time—Eli wasn’t in the room that time, and Pete was drowsing. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Pete, and took Pete’s hand in his again.

  He didn’t realize he’d dozed off until he felt Eli’s warm hand on his back.

  “Hey,” said Eli softly. Neil looked up and realized Pete was snoring.

  “How’s he doing?” Neil wiped at his eyes with his free hand. He’d kept tearing up earlier and salt had crusted around them while he was sleeping.

  Eli sighed, looking at Pete’s bulk under the thin hospital blanket. “Actually, he’s doing pretty well. He looks like hell, I know, but we got him ballooned faster than we ever could have if he’d gone down at home. And the stent’s holding just fine.”

  “Thank God,” said Neil. Eli’s hand was still warm on his back, just between his shoulders, something steady and comforting to ground him.

  “I can’t stop thinking about it,” said Eli.

  “I don’t blame you. Neither can I.”

  “No. Not—obviously, I’m thinking about his MI. But—” Eli hesitated, shaking his head. “He woke up for a couple of minutes earlier, and you know what he said to me?”

  “What?”

  “He said, ‘Where’s Alice?’ That was his second wife. I mean, his sister’s coming in, but they barely talk. He’s—he’s sick and he’s lonely, and he’s got us instead of family.”

  Neil’s grip on Pete’s hand tightened again. “We’re his fucking family now.”

  Eli was staring at Pete still.

  “Yeah, but are we enough?”

  “We will be.”

  Neither of them said anything for a while after that, watching him. Neil’s pager went off again.

  “This fucking day.” Neil silenced it as quickly as he could. Pete jerked in his bed but didn’t seem to wake up all the way as Neil got up and went to deal with the page.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After that case, he had another text from Eli: Sleeping, seems ok

  Good, he said. I’m crashing in the call room

  He lay down on the bed, lights off, and tried to get some sleep himself. The hospital around him was as quiet as a hospital that size could ever get; there were still soft chimes going off from time to time, murmuring voices. The call room was tucked in a back hallway, so it was insulated from a lot of the noise, but Neil had always felt sorry for the patients who had to try to sleep through it—most of the
m on empty stomachs in case they needed emergency surgery, some of them on painkillers, some with incision sites that meant they couldn’t sit up on their own.

  He was in a doze when the door opened and clicked softly shut. He was too muzzy to do much more than look up, blinking, as Eli sat on the edge of the bed.

  “His sister’s here,” said Eli, very softly. “She’s going to stay with him overnight.”

  “Oh, good.” Neil rubbed at his face. “What time is it?”

  “Late. Jesus. Early, I guess.” Eli rolled his neck, trying to stretch it. “I’m so tired.”

  Neil scooted back on the narrow bed and gestured to it. “Take a load off.”

  Eli bit his lip, glancing from the door to the bed and back again.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. Come on.” Neil hadn’t bothered pulling any blankets over himself, just lay down in his scrubs.

  Eli toed off his shoes and pulled off his white coat before lying down, curled on his side, facing Neil. There was barely enough room for both of them, knees touching, hanging off the edges of the bed.

  The only light in the room came from LEDs glowing on power strips and plugs. It was just enough for Neil to see Eli’s face, the shine of his eyes in the darkness.

  They breathed together in silence for a while, watching each other, the pretense of sleep abandoned.

  Eli was the first to move. He reached out—slowly, like he was giving Neil time to object, to move away—and took one of Neil’s hands in both of his. He started to rub it, almost absentmindedly, like Neil’s hand was cold and he was trying to warm it up.

  Neil’s heartbeat sped up. “Eli,” he whispered.

  Eli pulled Neil’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, closing his eyes. Neil watched him, paralyzed. Eli reached out with one hand, still holding Neil’s hand close against his own chest with the other, and ran his fingers through Neil’s hair, pushing it out of his eyes.

  Neil made a soft, wounded noise and leaned in. Eli bent toward him, and they met in the middle that time, for a kiss that was light—lips barely touching. Neither of them moved for another long moment, breathing in the stillness.

  Neil finally turned his head, pushing into Eli. Eli dropped Neil’s hand and reached for him, pulling him closer. Their clothes rustled against the sheets. They smelled like sweat, fear, disinfectant, the lingering smell of the hand sanitizer. Eli let his mouth open, and Neil felt it like a shock, the wet heat of Eli’s mouth, Eli’s tongue against his.

  He couldn’t help moaning into it. Eli dug his fingers into Neil’s hair, cradling Neil’s head while he just grazed Neil’s lip with his teeth.

  Neil’s hips hitched closer; he wrapped one leg around Eli’s, and Eli made a barely audible, desperate noise, rolling on top of Neil. And that was, oh, that was wonderful, Eli’s weight pressing down into him as he let his legs fall open, he could feel Eli’s cock through his scrubs and Eli’s slacks, Eli’s mouth hungry and frantic on his. Eli was starting to thrust against his thigh, breaths coming fast with an edge of a whine to them, almost whimpering.

  Neil got a hand between them and pressed his knuckles against the ridge in Eli’s pants, and Eli groaned and pushed down into him. “Can I—?” asked Neil, voice raw and cracking, getting his fingers on the zipper.

  “Yes, yes,” whispered Eli, making it difficult by grinding down again, kissing Neil, tonguing him, bracing his hands on either side of Neil’s head.

  Neil fumbled with Eli’s button and zipper, and got Eli’s cock in his hand. Eli shivered all over with a high-pitched sigh as Neil gave it a slow experimental stroke.

  Neil pushed down his scrub pants over his hips, just enough to get his own cock out, and then he had both their cocks in his hand. His hand felt cool around them; their cocks were burning hot, already dampened with the precome that was making his hand sticky. Eli was keening softly, hips moving in little stuttering thrusts. Neil pumped them, once, slowly—then again, faster. Bolts of pleasure hit him as Eli kept moving, murmuring, whispering nonsense into his mouth. Eli broke the kiss and braced his head on Neil’s shoulder, gasping in time to each stroke. With his other hand, Neil pushed up Eli’s shirt, running his hand along Eli’s side, his back, down to his ass. He squeezed Eli’s ass almost punishingly hard, and Eli bit him, sucking a bruise into the skin at the top of his shoulder.

  “Jesus,” Neil whispered through gritted teeth, hand tightening on their cocks unintentionally, and Eli thrust into his fingers once, twice, and sobbed out loud as he came. That was it, that was enough; Neil came, too, as Eli’s come dripped over his cock, through his fingers.

  Eli’s hands were on either side of Neil’s face; he drew back until he was looking down into Neil’s eyes, searching them. “Neil,” he said. “Neil.”

  And then Eli’s fucking pager went off. They both flinched, Eli rocking back up onto his heels, Neil struggling up to sit. They stared at each other, wide-eyed, until Eli reached down to his waist and punched the button to silence it.

  Neil was pulling off his scrub top. “Here.” Eli took it gratefully, giving himself a quick wipe down, tossing it back to Neil as Eli scrambled off the bed, grabbing for his shoes and his white coat.

  “I,” said Eli. He looked shell-shocked.

  “Later,” said Neil, and Eli nodded, mouth firming in resolve.

  After Eli had gone, Neil dried himself off, pulled up his pants and tossed the scrub top into a laundry bin. He pulled a fresh top out of the pile on the shelf and sat back down on the bed, back against the wall, dazed.

  What the fuck? he mouthed to the room at large. But when he cupped his hands over his mouth, he was smiling, and he couldn’t stop. His hands were still a little sticky, still smelled of sex. Every time he breathed in the brand-new memories were there, and they were so good.

  * * *

  He barely slept the rest of the night, even though they made it through without any more surgical emergencies, and he didn’t get any more texts from Eli. He grabbed a quick shower before rounds and noted with satisfaction that his hickey, from Eli’s mouth, wasn’t visible when he was dressed.

  He had to roll right into his next day—at least he’d traded call, so he could go home and sleep that night. Maybe.

  He took a midmorning break to go see Pete. Eli wasn’t in the room, but Pete was sitting up, eating, talking to his sister.

  “Neil!” Pete set down his cup of ice water. It was so strange to see him with his hospital bracelet around his wrist, the IV still in place. “Come on in. Meet Janice.”

  “Hi.” Neil leaned over to shake Pete’s sister’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too.” Janice did look a lot like Pete—same stubborn set to their faces, same dark brown eyes. “Pete’s been telling me about you.”

  “Hopefully just the good things.”

  Pete waved a hand dismissively. “There’s nothing but good things to tell.”

  “You seem a lot more with it today.”

  Pete nodded. “I’m feeling about a million times better. Feels like I got an elephant off my chest.”

  “So, do you need me to lecture you about reducing risk?” Neil propped his hip against the edge of the windowsill. “Or are you going to finally start swimming?”

  Pete rolled his eyes. “Swimming sucks. I’ll start walking, how’s that?”

  “Sounds good,” said Neil firmly. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Yeah, you say that like you’re going to mother hen me, but you could stand some walking too. Cooped up in here all day.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t go to a doctor when you started having chest pain.”

  “Hey, I’d had heartburn before! It didn’t feel that different.”

  “Still. You’re what, sixty-four? You should have seen a damn doctor. You know you’ve got risk fa
ctors!”

  “See how they treat me,” Pete said to Janice. “No bedside manner.”

  Janice snorted. “I’m on their side, you little pill.”

  Pete sighed heavily. “I should have known.”

  “How’s your niece?” asked Neil.

  “Oh, she’s good!” Pete smiled, waving at Janice. “Show him the pictures of them at the marathon.”

  Janice pulled out her phone and flipped through, finding a series of pictures of an attractive young woman with her family at a marathon; they were clustered around her in the first one as she showed off her race number, and then there was a series of her starting out, and finally pictures of her after the race, drenched in sweat and smiling.

  By the time they were finished, Pete was starting to look tired again. “I’ll let you get some more rest,” said Neil. “Remember the call button’s there for a reason.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Pete. “Come back and see me soon, hospitals are boring when I don’t get to play with my toys.”

  “No work for you today.”

  “How’s Eli doing?”

  Neil tried to keep his face still. “I’m not sure, I haven’t seen him yet. I’ll let him know he should check in with you.”

  “Yeah, you do that.” Pete gave him a knowing little smile that made Neil turn to Janice.

  “Is there anything I can get you?” Neil asked. “I know these rooms aren’t always the most comfortable.”

  She shook her head. “It’s all good. I’ve got that bench to sleep on—” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the padded seat by the window “—and this joker to keep me company.”

  “That’s good. I’d better get back to work, but I’ll come by later.”

  “Assuming I’m not discharged,” said Pete.

  “Assuming you’re not discharged, because you had a massive heart attack, you tool.”

  “I must not be too bad off or he wouldn’t be insulting me,” Pete said to his sister in a confiding tone. She just rolled her eyes. In that moment, she was Pete’s spitting image.

  “Anyway.” Neil waved goodbye as he left. He stopped at the desk to ask the charge nurse to let Dr. Newcombe know that Pete was asking for him. She nodded, looking a little teary around the edges.