Work Text:
Natalie crouched beside the sofa, pushing Owen’s sweat drenched curls from his face. He was finally sleeping just in time for her to head off to work. The thirteen-month-old was covered head to toe in angry red spots and had spent the night sobbing in discomfort; locked in a fierce battle of wills with Natalie who was steadfastly refusing to let him scratch. He’d passed out around four a.m. allowing her a brief nap, but she was exhausted and had never been more tempted to call in sick. His temperature was still hovering around one hundred but the last thing she wanted to do was wake him up for more medicine and leave Helen to deal with the hysterical screaming she knew would ensue if she did. He would be fine for now, she reasoned, at least he wasn’t in pain when he was sleeping.
Yet she still didn’t want to leave him. “Helen –“
“Go to work, Natalie.” Helen cut her off from. The older woman folded her arms resolutely. “He has the chicken pox – when he wakes up I’ll give him some Tylenol and he’ll have a nice bath in camomile. He’ll be right as rain by the time you’re home.”
“But what if –“ She stopped, seeing her mother-in-law’s raised eyebrows.
“You know, preparing for the worst outcomes is good for a doctor but it seriously hinders you as a parent. You need to relax. Every kid gets chicken pox, it’s part of growing up.” She crossed the room to hand her her bag and place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Owen will be fine. I’ll call you if we need anything.”
Natalie sighed and looked back to her baby who was still sound asleep, oblivious to his mother’s dilemma. Looking back to Helen, she nodded slowly. “Okay, okay I’ll go to work.” Pressing a kiss to her baby’s forehead, she stood, slinging her bag onto her shoulder. “I’ll call on my lunch break. The baby Tylenol is under the sink, the camomile is in the fridge.” She grabbed her keys from the sideboard and turned to look back at her son one more time. “I’ll have my phone on me all day. Call me if anything changes.”
She closed the door as gently as she could, unable to shake the guilt that had settled in her stomach.
**CM**
“Oh god I’m a terrible mother, aren’t I?” Natalie lamented, hands clenched around her mug of coffee.
“Absolutely not.” Maggie glared at her from the door of the doctor’s lounge. “You’re doing what plenty of mother’s do on a day to day basis. That does not make you a bad person or a bad mother. Owen is perfectly fine.” She glanced out at the ER which was starting to fill. “Drink up, we’re gonna need you out here.”
The door swung shut and Natalie drained her coffee, stood and stretched. This was going to be a long shift.
**CM**
“Guy in 3 needs a head CT, pretty sure it’s just concussion but I want to rule out a bleed.”
It had been three hours and she had heard nothing from Helen, which was half reassuring and half worrying. She hadn’t even texted to say he’d woken up. Work was taking her mind off it but every now and again she was hit by a wave of panic and she had to steel herself against calling home and checking up on them every half hour. She trusted Helen. She had to otherwise leaving Owen every time she went to work would be impossible.
“Hey there Handsome.” Halfway through handing over the patient file to Maggie, a sickeningly sweet voice cut through her thoughts. She looked over the see Nina drape herself over Will, who was scrolling through patient notes on his tablet. She watched, stomach working itself into knots, as Will tilted his face to kiss her. Like her day wasn’t going badly enough.
“No problem Dr Manning – any word from Helen?” Maggie brought her back to her senses and she took a breath, trying to dispel the surge of jealousy the was bubbling her chest. What right had she to be jealous anyway? She was the one who’d asked him to wait – and he couldn’t be expected to wait forever.
“Uh, no – nothing.” She sighed, running a hand through her already messy braid, loosening it even more. “I’ll call in an hour, check up on him. I’m worried his fever is still persisting and about him scratching.” She checked her phone despite knowing she would just be faced with Owen’s bright little face and no new notifications.
“Everything okay?” Will had extricated himself from Nina and was standing by her elbow, his girlfriend hovering behind him. Natalie glanced briefly at the pathologist before giving her friend a strained smile and nodding.
“Owen has chicken pox.”
“Poor little guy – he keep you up?”
“Yeah, he’s so uncomfortable and feverish. He didn’t sleep till 4 this morning. Helen’s looking after him though.”
Will reached out and arm and gripped her shoulder. “Little man is champ. He’ll be just fine and I’m sure Helen is taking great –“
He was interrupted by the whooshing of the automatic doors opening.
“Owen Manning, 13 months, suspected encephalitis stemming from chicken pox infection. Started fitting at home and again en route, now under control with Versed. Fever was one-oh-five no one-oh-three with antipyretics, pulse 150, BP 110/70, resps 50 – intubated following the seizure, he’s not supporting his own airway.”
It was like the everything was moving in slow motion. Natalie was rooted to the spot. Will had sprung into action, taking over Owen’s care, Maggie not far behind. She could hear him barking orders, watched as they worked on her son. She felt Helen take her hand, heard the older woman’s sobbing and pleading with her to forgive her. She had thought he was okay. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She could barely think.
Owen. Owen. Owen.
**CM**
They had finally managed to stabilise him. He was ventilated and under sedation, hooked up to saline drip to keep him hydrated, antivirals for the encephalitis a lumbar puncture had confirmed, fever meds and anti-epileptics to prevent any further seizures. Someone had ordered an MRI which had shown swelling in his brain and spinal cord, there were concerns over damage but they wanted to let the anti-inflammatories do their job before reassessing.
“I’m so sorry baby.” Nat whispered, stroking the boy’s hair from his face like she had done earlier in the day. “I should never have left you.” She began to sob, pressing her forehead to her sons. “Owen, oh Owen, please be okay baby. I need you to pull through this. Mommy needs you…” Her chest began to tighten until she could no longer speak.
She had sent Helen home to sleep hours before and, although she had barely slept the night, she couldn’t tear herself away for a moment; not even to sit in the arm chair at her son’s bedside and close her eyes. She couldn’t hold him but she wanted to be close to him. To hold his hand, make sure her baby knew she was right beside him. That she was never going to leave him again. Maggie and April had both dropped by several times to check in on her and Connor and Ethan had both stuck their heads around the door to offer their help should she need anything. She hadn’t seen Will since he had signed Owen over to the intensive care team. He had told her he would be up as soon as he could – but that had been hours ago.
She had never felt more alone. It was crushing, overwhelming and before she knew it she was overcome with sobbing, leaning against the metal crib, clutching her baby’s tiny hand.
**CM**
Cursing to himself, Will Halstead took the stairs to the paediatric intensive care three at a time. It had taken him longer than he had planned to get back to them.
He’d had to finish off his shift for a start. They were already a doctor down and they couldn’t afford to lose him on such short notice as well. He hadn’t even bothered grabbing his coat when it was over, just grabbed his keys and sprinted off. He’d gotten the key to Natalie’s from Helen who, when he offered his assistance, asked him if he wouldn’t mind going to their apartment and picking up some essentials - because they both knew there was no chance Nat would leave Owen’s side.
He raced home first and packed a change of clothes, he’d beat Nina back so he left a note explaining where he was before charging off again, this time to Natalie’s. On a normal day, rifling through anyone’s drawers to find clean clothes would have made him uncomfortable, and going through Nat’s would have been downright awkward to explain to his girlfriend, but all he could think about was getting back to his friend and her son. Thinking of the latter he grabbed some clean pyjamas and some soft joggers and tshirts that Nat had folded and left on top of the dryer. He grabbed a tiny anorak and hat on the way out the door and had to fight the last of rush hour traffic to get back to the hospital.
But now he’d returned. He stumbled through the doors to PICU, looking around for Natalie.
He had never seen her look so broken. She was bent over the hospital cot, wracked with sobs, her breathing gasped and ragged. She looked up as he opened the door.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
She shook her head and sniffed. “I-it’s o-o-okay. I u-understand. I j-just don’t know what to d-do.” And then she was sobbing again, arms wrapped around herself. “M-my baby. I should n-never have l-left him.”
Will dumped the bags he had brought to the floor and crossed the room to pulled her into his arms. She buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed harder. “Nat. Natalie this isn’t your fault. You could never have called this. You did everything right.” He pressed his lips to her hair before grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back to look in her eyes. “You are a good doctor and a fantastic mother. None of this is your fault.” He hugged her tightly again. “He’s going to be okay, he’s going to be just fine.”
They stood like that, holding onto each other for what seemed like forever. Natalie clutching at Will’s scrubs, head buried into his neck and him pressing his face to her hair, whispering reassurances to her, his arms holding her tight.
Eventually, Natalie pulled back, wiping at her eyes in an attempt at composure. She even attempted a smile. “Thanks Will, I really appreciate you coming back.” He kept a hand on her arm.
“I hope you don’t mind but Helen asked me to swing by your place to pick up a change of clothes for you and a couple things for Owen.” He grinned, making his away over to the pile of bags and opening the larger of the two. “I even remembered this.” He pulled out a raggedy, chewed looking lion toy. “This has really been through the wringer. Might want to get a new one.”
Natalie grinned despite herself. “Are you kidding? You know as well as I do he barely sleeps without it.” She reached for the toy and placed in in the bottom corner of the crib, beside Owen’s feet. “You really didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I wanted to.” He nodded to the arm chair behind. “You should sit down before you pass out, you look like you haven’t slept in days.” Natalie rolled her eyes but did as she was bid anyway, realising she was still close enough to reach through the bars and stroke Owen’s little hand. “I’m gonna grab something to eat and a coffee and come straight back. You need anything?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll bring you a sandwich.” He silenced her protest before it even begun. “I’ll be right back.”
True to is word he was gone less than ten minutes – bringing back sandwiches, coffee and a selection of chocolate bars and chips.
“I didn’t know what you would want.” He smiled, choosing a packet of Vitners before flopping into the chair on the other side of the crib. “Besides, we could be here for a while, the more rations we have the less time we have to spend away from Owen sourcing more.”
Natalie smiled and raised her eyebrows. “We?”
“Of course – you didn’t think I would let you do this alone did you?”
She bit her tongue. She would hardly have blamed him. She had hurt him before, and now he had Nina to think about. She would have understood if he had kept his visits to popping his head in between shifts. But she couldn’t help the swell of her heart in her chest at his words.
We might be here a while.
Perhaps she wasn’t quite as alone as she had imagined.