A Fallen Heart

by Cate Ashwood

  “Yes. Right. Fine. Go ahead, but tonight, please be mindful of the costs you’re incurring with each of them.”

  “You mean you want me to see dollar signs and deficits instead of people hurt and dying? Is that what you’d like me to do tonight?” There was only so much Ford could take before he snapped, and Greene had to talk to him on a day when he’d had much less sleep than he needed.

  Greene’s eyes narrowed, his chubby face becoming sweaty and mottled as his lips drew tight. “We will discuss this later, Joseph.”

  “I look forward to it. Have a good evening, Mr. Greene.” Ford breezed past him to the nurses’ station, where Amanda and Lissa were huddled together over a file.

  “What did he want?” Amanda asked as Ford approached.

  “To discuss my use of hospital resources.” Ford relayed what Greene had said, feeling a little jolt of affection for the women as their expressions turned to mirrored disgust.

  “Maybe you use more resources because you work more than anyone else in the department. Your hours are insane. Did they take that into account?” Lissa protested.

  “No idea how it was all calculated. I don’t give a fuck about the budget, and I never will. If it’s going to cost an extra hundred, thousand, whatever to save someone’s life, so be it, and assholes like Greene, who put a price tag on people, make me angrier than anything.”

  “Forget him for now. He doesn’t matter. They’re not going to fire you for doing your job.”

  Ford sighed. She was right. In the grand scheme of things, Greene didn’t matter.

  “How’s the tracker looking?” Ford changed the subject and pulled the screen up on his computer that showed the list of patients, complete with all the information needed to quickly orient himself.

  “Busy,” Amanda said.

  “When isn’t it?” Lissa chimed in.

  “Excuse me?”

  Ford looked up to see a woman standing at the desk, waiting expectantly.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “My mother is in bed six. Can she have something to drink? She says her throat feels dry.”

  “I’ll grab her some water,” Amanda offered.

  THE NEXT time Ford looked at the clock, it was well past the time when he should have taken a break. They’d been flooded with people, and a multivehicle accident nearby meant the trauma bay had seen its share of carnage that evening. Ford had been so caught up in everything going on, he’d forgotten to stop. His stomach rumbled, since the last time he’d eaten had been when he’d shoved some Chinese food, leftover from God only knew when, into his mouth before heading out the door.

  “I’m going to grab something to eat,” he said to Amanda the next time there was a lull in registrations.

  “Bon appétit!” she replied.

  Ford trudged to the staff room. It was empty, as usual. Dismal walls and institutional furniture meant that most people chose to leave the hospital for meals. The quiet of the room made his ears ring, and all at once, he realized how tired he was.

  Ford opened the fridge and tried to decide between nuking a sweet-and-sour chicken Lean Cuisine he knew he’d left in the freezer sometime last January during an ill-fated healthy-living resolution, or a pack of Cheese Nips and a half bottle of apple juice left over from his shift the week before. Neither seemed particularly appetizing, but his stomach was rumbling consistently, and crackers and some likely expired juice was not going to cut it.

  “Sweet-and-sour chicken it is,” he grumbled, opening the freezer and reaching in for what promised to be a soggy and mostly tasteless freezer-burned dinner.

  “Ford,” Amanda called from the door.

  She looked at him with an expression of disgust on her face as he pulled the box out.

  “Do not eat that. It has enough frost on it that you could build your own snowman. Throw it away. Nash is here. And he brought pizza.”

  Ford tossed the microwave meal into the garbage on the way out of the room.

  He followed Amanda back to the nurses’ station where Nash was leaning against the desk, legs crossed at the ankles, talking to Lissa. Ford’s stomach lurched seeing him, dressed casually in jeans, sneakers, and a plain white T-shirt. What was it about Nash that made a simple white tee look so fucking appealing? He was so goddamn pure, like the boy next door, but so much more tempting. Suddenly Ford regretted not asking Nash upstairs when he’d driven him home. Fantasies of being alone with him took hold but were quickly chased away. Ford chastised himself for allowing the thoughts to enter his mind.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I thought I’d take advantage of my night off to curry favor with my favorite nurses. You know how much easier my job is when the nurses like me?”

  “You have nothing better to do with your night off than to bring us pizza?”

  “Well, Adam and Sam are hanging out tonight.”

  “I don’t think it’s called ‘hanging out’ when they live together,” Ford pointed out.

  “Whatever. Adam and Sam are spending quality couple time together. Caleb is having dinner with his family, and apparently Rob is wining and dining a new girl he met online.”

  “You don’t have any other friends?” Ford asked and immediately regretted it. For someone who liked to spend all his time with people, he certainly could be socially inept. The things that came out of his mouth sometimes made him wonder why anyone wanted to spend time with him.

  Nash didn’t seem fazed, his tone teasing and light. “I do, but I choose to spend time with you for your winning personality and movie-star good looks.”

  “I aim to please,” Ford said, picking up a slice of pizza from the already substantially grease-stained box. As the flavors of tomato sauce, Italian sausage, mushrooms, and green peppers hit his tongue, Ford was unable to suppress the sex-like moan that escaped his throat. It might have been the most delicious thing he’d ever eaten.

  He silently thanked whatever deity was looking out for them that they’d caught a break and had more than two minutes to eat. They were so used to scarfing down whatever food they’d managed to scrounge that Amanda and Lissa had inhaled three pieces each in the time it took Nash to eat one.

  “Thank you for bringing us food. You have no idea how much we needed it tonight.”

  Nash eyed the empty boxes. “I think I have some idea.”

  Ford liked working night shifts. Sometimes the shit hit the fan, and with fewer staff members, each person had to pull more than their share of weight, but it also meant a more lax working environment. Rules that would be staunchly followed during the day, like food at the nurses’ station and friends stopping by for a visit, were overlooked once the day crew left.

  Ford liked having Nash there. It wasn’t something he wanted to examine too closely, but the man did radiate a sort of comfortable warmth Ford felt drawn to.

  Chapter Nine

  “ANY WORD on how Joel is doing?” Nash asked a while later. “Have the police been back to talk to him?”

  “I stopped by before my shift, but he was sleeping. Helen, the nurse on shift, said he’d been out most of the day. The cops came by, and Diana was there too, but he still won’t talk,” Ford said.

  “Poor kid.”

  “Yeah. I told the nurses I’d stop by later to see if he’s awake.”

  “Why not go now?” Lissa suggested. “If he’s been sleeping all day, he might be awake.”

  “I don’t want to leave you guys alone,” Ford said.

  “Oh, like you think we can’t handle the ER on our own? Like you’re God’s gift to nursing?” she teased. “Go on. We’re fine here. Everything is calm for now.”

  “If you’re sure?”

  “Go on,” Amanda chimed in.

  Nash watched as the decision played across Ford’s face. Ultimately he rose from where he’d perched himself on the desk.

  “I’ll come with you,” Nash offered. “I’d like to see how he’s doing anyway.”

  “Sure.”
/>   They walked together to the psych unit. When they arrived, there was a uniformed police officer sitting in one of the plastic waiting room chairs outside in the hallway. He lowered the newspaper he was reading long enough to say hello as Ford used his card to swipe in through the first door.

  “Hey, Maddy, I’m back,” Ford called as they stepped through the second door and into the main area. Nash had been here a few times, taking transfers from Saint Joe’s to other hospitals in the area. The place had always seemed so falsely cheery to him. It kind of gave him the creeps.

  The main room was set up like a living room, with a couch and three recliners clustered around a coffee table stacked with magazines. On one wall was a TV that seemed to play a constant loop of old movies. The other walls held brightly colored landscape paintings. The nurses’ station sat on one side of the room and backed into a glass-enclosed office where there were two more desks as well as filing cabinets and supply cabinets.

  “Maddy, this is Nash. He’s one of the paramedics who brought Joel in. Nash, this is Maddy. She and I went to nursing school together.”

  “I bet you have quite a few stories you could share about Ford,” Nash teased.

  “Don’t you dare,” he warned.

  She made a motion like she was zipping her lips but giggled anyway.

  “Your patient was awake about an hour ago. I’m not sure if he’s still up, but you’re welcome to peek in and see.”

  “Room two, right?”

  “Yep,” she confirmed.

  Nash glanced at the clock over the desk, his expectations remaining conservative. It was nearing midnight, but Ford seemed so optimistic that he couldn’t help but hope.

  The hallway leading to the rooms was dimly lit, and Nash could see the light spilling out from under Joel’s door before they reached it. Peering in through the window, he could see him sitting on the bed, reading what looked to be a National Geographic magazine.

  Ford knocked softly, and Joel straightened, like a deer caught in a hunter’s crosshairs.

  They stepped into the room and closed the door behind them.

  Nash had never been in any of the patient rooms before, but they were infinitely more depressing than the main space. Stark white walls housed nothing but a simple bed in the corner. Everything was white and clinical. He supposed there was good reason behind the sparseness of the room, but it was dismal.

  “Hey, Joel, how are you feeling?” Ford asked gently.

  He didn’t say anything, his eyes wary and trained on Nash.

  “This is my friend,” Ford said. “He helped you yesterday. Do you remember?”

  Joel nodded.

  “We wanted to come and see how you were feeling.”

  Nash could barely believe it was the same kid. He still looked like he needed a handful of good meals and some decent sleep, but the sallowness was gone from his skin and his expression was more alert. The drugged-out appearance from the day before was missing, and now he looked younger than ever, some of his youthfulness restored. It was amazing, the difference a day could make.

  They sat and talked with him, or rather Ford did most of the talking, with Nash chiming in occasionally. Every so often, Joel would nod or shake his head, and the longer they spent with him, the more relaxed he seemed to become. He never spoke, but Nash felt as though they were making progress with him anyway. He wasn’t sure which he was happier to see, Joel relaxing or how pleased Ford was when Joel responded to him, albeit wordlessly, but with a response nonetheless. Nash could almost feel the happiness emanating off him, like each tiny movement was a grand achievement. Nash couldn’t help the dopey grin plastered to his face watching the two of them interact. Joel’s hand was tucked firmly between both of Ford’s, and he shuffled closer when Ford sat next to him on the bed.

  He didn’t know Joel’s story, but maybe in time he’d be able to tell them. It was obvious he and Ford shared some sort of connection, and it was sweet to watch, as though, in a single day, Ford had become Joel’s older brother. Trauma had the ability to forge bonds as efficiently as it shattered lives. It was incredible to witness something good come out of such a horrific situation.

  Ford was midstory about his little brother when it was becoming obvious that Joel was fighting a losing battle against the need to sleep.

  “We should probably let Joel get some rest,” Nash said gently, placing his hand on Ford’s arm.

  Ford paused a second. “He’s right,” he told Joel. “You should rest. I’ll come visit you again tomorrow if that’s okay?”

  Joel nodded again, and Ford beamed.

  “Okay. Have a good sleep, and we’ll see you soon.”

  Nash wasn’t sure if Ford had meant the “we,” but a bus crashing through the side of the building would have been less obvious to Nash.

  They said good night and left Joel to get some rest.

  “He seems to be doing better,” Ford said, his voice more animated than Nash had heard it before.

  “Yeah, it’s amazing how quickly kids bounce back,” Maddy said. “He’s still got a long road ahead of him, but I think he’ll be all right.”

  “Are they going to be transferring him out of here soon?”

  “I’m not sure. Right now I think this is the safest place for him. There’s been a cop sitting outside the door since after they brought him in, just in case. Realistically, they could move him to the inpatient ward until he’s all healed up, but we’re not in immediate need of the bed.”

  “Yeah, I guess a little extra security, being behind a locked door, doesn’t hurt.”

  “Nope, and we’re happy to have him. He’s no trouble at all.”

  “I should get back, since I’m technically still on shift. I think I’ve abandoned Amanda and Lissa enough for one night. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on him.”

  “Have a good night,” Maddy said, waving as they exited the unit.

  “Are you going to stick around for a while, or do you have to go home?” Ford asked as they neared the Burrard Street exit.

  “Would you like me to stay?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Ford’s tone made Nash think maybe it did, even if it was only a little bit.

  “I don’t have anything else going on, and my sleep schedule is fucked anyway. I’ll stick around if I’m not going to cramp your style. You can send me on coffee-and-doughnut runs later if you’d like.”

  Ford smiled. “I think the girls would definitely be okay with that.”

  “And you?”

  “I’d be okay with that too.”

  “Good. Then I’ll stay.”

  An hour later, everyone was glad Nash was still there. The ER blew up. It was as though everyone in a ten-mile radius had eaten at the same sketchy Indian food restaurant and had triggered a citywide food poisoning epidemic. Triage did as much as they could, diverting patients home with instructions to take Gravol and to get some rest, but the sickest patients were admitted.

  Nash had never seen so much vomit in his life, and that was saying something. At one point, they had to improvise when they ran out of emesis trays, using whatever they could find. MacGyvering it in the ER was not something that should ever be done, but at that point, with the supply storage in the basement closed for the evening, they had no choice.

  Without a second thought, Nash fell into the chaos, lending a hand where he could. Eventually, he moved from bed to bed, systematically and in order, putting in IVs and checking vitals. Ford drew up meds, Amanda ordered labs, ECGs, and imaging, and Lissa charted as quickly as her hand could write.

  It took until nearly six in the morning, but they muddled through, and thankfully the trauma bay remained blessedly vacant. The beds were full, but everyone was stable and taken care of for the time being. There’d be a mess to clean up on dayside, dealing with lack of stock and discharging the patients who’d spent the night there, but they’d made it through.

  “Thank God you were here,” Amanda said as the clock ticked over, sign
aling the end of their shift.

  “And thank God Susan wasn’t,” Lissa added.

  “Who’s Susan?” Nash asked.

  “She runs the ER. Tall woman, black hair, gray roots? She looks like she could have been your drill sergeant,” said Ford.

  “Ah yes. I think I know who you mean.”

  “She would have kicked you out the second you walked in, pizza or no pizza,” Lissa said. “I think she spends most of her nights off curled up in front of the fire with the rule book. Nothing gets by her.”

  “We don’t have to tell her you helped,” Amanda said.

  “My lips are sealed if yours are.”

  “But we definitely appreciated you pitching in. There would be a lot more left for the day shift to deal with if you hadn’t been here.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Nash looked directly at Ford when he said it, satisfied when the tips of Ford’s ears pinked up.

  “Now, speaking of the day shift, you’d better go before they catch you here looking like you spent the night doing our jobs for us.”

  Nash laughed. “Gotcha. I’ll see you ladies around.”

  Ford walked out with him, looking very much like he needed to sleep for the next six days.

  “Come on,” Nash said, the cool air hitting him as they pushed open the heavy doors and stepped out onto the pathway that led toward the street. “I’ll drive you home.”

  “You really don’t need to do that.”

  “I want to. It’s late, and you need sleep more than I do.”

  Ford didn’t argue. Instead he thanked Nash and followed him to where he’d parked in the hospital lot. He climbed in and clicked his seat belt as Nash started the engine and navigated toward Ford’s apartment.

  When they arrived, Nash stopped in the loading zone.

  “I know the girls already said it, but thank you for everything tonight.”

  “And like I said before, it was my pleasure.”

  “It couldn’t have been.”

  Nash chuckled. “There were a couple of moments I could have done without, but there were more positives tonight than negatives. It was good to see Joel doing better, and I like spending time with you.”