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Tonight, Neela has the privilege of working with the most competent second-year resident she knows… and his unlikely friend, the most incompetent second-year resident she knows. The former, Coop (Dr Nick Cooper, but nobody at County ever calls him that), juggles all of the excellent qualities an ER doctor needs- he's compassionate, quick-thinking, dedicated, organised, and a huge advocate for patient care. Dr Archie Morris, on the other hand? ‘Care’ always seems to be the last thing on his mind.
Sandwiched between these two, therefore, is always an interesting learning experience, Neela thinks. She listens attentively to Coop as he explains the intricacies of bedside manner, then glances a few beds over to see Morris rolling his eyes at a frustrating patient. Coop keeps a scared child distracted while he inserts a cannula into their arm so smoothly that they don't even notice it's gone in. Morris tries and fails to insert an IV four times before he gives up and hands the task over to a bewildered looking nurse-in-training who was simply standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It's about halfway through the shift when the call comes in- a drunk guy was picked up in downtown Chicago, vomiting and trying to fight everyone who attempted to help him. Neela winces as she hears the details, and Coop sighs, already pulling on his gloves.
“Perks of working in one of the busiest hospitals on a night shift, huh?” he quips, giving Neela a small smile.
She chuckles, trying to disguise the heating of his cheeks whenever his eyes sparkle for her. “It certainly makes life interesting.”
“Exactly. Never a dull moment here.”
This sentiment is proven true from the moment the guy is wheeled in, belligerent and loud as he tries to wrest free of the paramedics’ grip.
“Mr Roger Carson, 54. Intractable vomiting, small laceration at the back of his head- we think he might have tripped over and hit it. GCS 14, blood pressure 140/87, heart rate 130 BPM.”
Coop nods, brow slightly furrowed. Dr Lewis, who came up to the gurney just in time to hear the vital information, takes one look at their patient and gestures to the other doctors.
“C’mon, let's get him into a bay. Doesn't look like anything complex, but we're probably going to need a sedative.”
Neela follows Coop, Morris, and Dr Lewis as they roll the gurney over to a nearby bay, beginning the primary survey as they move. Their patient, Mr Carson, though, doesn't appear too fond of all the attention. He yells out the entire time, shouting obscenities at doctors and innocent bystanders alike. It takes two of the nurses keeping his arm held down against the gurney for Coop to get an IV in.
“Sharp scratch, Mr Carson. This is just some anti-nausea medication, alright?”
Still, even Coop’s dulcet tones don't do much to calm him down, and soon the verdict is delivered by a frustrated-looking Dr Lewis.
“We're going to have to sedate him. Morris, get the haldol. 5mg. He's a big guy, so he won't go down easy.”
Morris nods and disappears to grab the haldol, while Coop, Neela, and the rest of the team attempt to keep their patient stable. His behaviour seems to be getting more dangerous every second, and as Neela steps up to try to check him for any further injuries, he lunges forwards, trying to take hold of her. Coop shoots a protective arm out in front of her, gently ushering her behind him, then steps in to help restrain the patient.
“Mr Carson, I need you to calm down.” He states firmly. Neela’s heart thunders, not just from fear. “We’re trying to look after you, and you’re making that very difficult for us right now.” After a short sigh, his words, though he doesn't turn, are directed towards her.
“You okay, Neela?”
She nods, mouth dry, then realises that he probably can't see that, and speaks up shakily instead. “I’m fine.”
A few seconds later, a flurry of footsteps sound from behind, and Morris slips into view, out of breath.
“Got the haldol.”
Coop shoots him a sideways glance, still helping the nurses to hold the patient down. “Good. Dose him.” His gaze flits forward again, and even despite the aggression of the patient, his eyes hold that sparkle of gentleness that Neela can't help adoring. “Little stick now, Mr Carson, to help you relax. We won't let anything bad happen to you.”
Still, their patient fights to get free, especially as Morris leans over him in an attempt to reach his thigh. Coop’s chest is heaving with exertion, grip tight.
“C’mon, Morris.”
“I’m- I’m going as quick as I can.”
“We don't have time, everyone's arms are tiring.”
“I know, I just need to- I need to- shit, just let me-”
Quickly, clumsily, and shakily, he jabs the syringe into skin, discharging it fully before he even realises his mistake- but Neela sees it instantly.
And Coop?
Coop feels it. Because he's the one that just got dosed.
“Ouch, Morris, what the… what the hell?”
He lifts his arm, looking at it almost dazedly, the clarity that was previously in his eyes fading with every second that passes. His bleary gaze sluggishly drifts over to Morris, brow furrowing.
“God… God-damn it, Mmmorris.”
Neela turns around, eyes wide, and calls out to the doctors she can see nearby. “Dr Lewis! Abby! We need some help over here!”
The two of them immediately rush over.
“Yes?” “What's going on?”
“Morris got Coop with the sedative instead of the patient.”
She sees their expressions morph into those of horror, Abby quickly running over to grab a chair while Dr Lewis stands in front of Coop, taking him gently by the shoulders.
“C’mon, Coop, let's get you sat down, alright?”
He frowns, shaking his head wearily. “M… s’fine, I’ll… I’ll be…”
His chin starts to tip forward, and Dr Lewis calls out to Abby, clearly abandoning the chair plan at the realisation that Coop’s going down now. She hooks her hands underneath Coop’s armpits and Neela moves to clear the floor around them- from her crouched vantage point, she can see his eyes rolling back, lashes fluttering in a futile attempt to stay conscious.
Abby leaves the chair and hurries over, positioning herself behind Coop so as his knees finally buckle, she can make sure that a backwards fall won't result in disaster. Dr Lewis, meanwhile, slowly eases him down, the limpness of his body confirmed by the worry in her eyes and tone.
“Easy, Coop, you're alright. You're okay, sweetheart, I've got you.”
His head is the last part to touch the floor, Abby cradling it, her thumbs stroking his cheeks reassuringly. Neela’s view is initially slightly obstructed by the two other women, but she assumes that he's probably knocked out by now- that is, until Abby shifts slightly and Neela catches a glimpse of his face, the continual fluttering of his eyelashes even as his gaze grows vacant.
Abby taps his cheek gently, Dr Lewis lifting his wrist to check his pulse before she calls for backup.
“Can someone go get Kovaç? Tell him Coop’s been accidentally dosed with a lot of haldol, get him to bring some more nurses to sedate the other guy, a gurney, and a crash cart.”
“A crash cart?” Neela repeats, barely aware that she's speaking until the words leave her lips and she flushes.
Dr Lewis turns briefly to look at her. “His asthma means he's at risk of respiratory depression with sedatives. I'm hoping we won't need it, but we’ve got to have access to an adult intubation kit just in case.”
As Neela lets the terrifying nature of that idea sink in, Dr Lewis looks back at Coop, leaning over him and rubbing his chest. He’s still barely clinging onto consciousness and her voice is far softer than Neela’s ever heard it.
“Nice, deep breaths for me, sweetheart. We’re going to take care of you, okay? Just keep those eyes open, Coop.”
But the eyes in question are already glazed over, lashes fluttering and fluttering until… his pupils drift upwards, eyes rolling back, eyelids falling closed over them. Dr Lewis swears under her breath, glancing behind her in the direction Kovaç should be coming from.
Thankfully, she soon catches sight of him, sighing with relief as he rounds the corner, nurses wheeling crash carts and gurneys behind him. By the time he kneels down beside Coop, he's already wearing his stethoscope.
“How much haldol has he had?” He asks, voice steady, slipping the stethoscope under Coop’s scrub shirt and revealing the slightest area of midriff in the process. Still, even this small glimpse of his muscled abdomen feels like so much of an intrusion that Neela forces her eyes upwards, cheeks flaming. In comparison to the carnage around him, his expression is peaceful. It looks like he's asleep- because, in some chemical-induced way, he is- but she knows as well as the others that this isn't good. Even Morris, standing back, still frozen almost in shock since the moment he accidentally jabbed Coop, looks white with anxiety.
“5mg. It was meant for the patient over there.”
Dr Lewis gestures towards the man in question, now properly medicated thanks to the assisting nurses. Kovaç glances in his direction but doesn't say anything more until a few seconds later, when he removes the stethoscope and sighs.
“His breathing doesn't concern me right now, but we’ll need to monitor. Get him to a bed- I want him under constant supervision until he wakes up, on high flow oxygen.”
“Can't we… reverse it somehow?” Morris asks from behind him, voice sheepish.
Kovaç shakes his head. His expression is severe. “Haldol doesn't have a single reversal agent, and every medication that might counteract it comes with a whole load of other potential side effects. For now, it's best to monitor and treat any problems we encounter as they come.”
“Right…”
“And Morris?”
“Yes?”
“When he wakes up, your apology better be good. He could get you in a lot of trouble if he chose to.”
Morris nods, lowering his gaze, but Neela knows even as she looks down at Coop, completely knocked out thanks to his ‘friend’, that he has no reason to fear retribution. Coop is too gentle for that.
“Alright, Coop.” Kovaç continues, tone softer. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable. 1…2…3…”
Neela is by his side when they first move him into the bed near the nurses’ station. She's with him for the next few hours after that, accompanying Morris and Abby in their quiet vigil, all of them craning their necks and silencing every single time he so much as shifts in his sleep.
Kovaç’s orders have been fulfilled to the tee- Coop, despite coming into the hospital as a doctor, now very much resembles a patient. He's got IV fluids, a nasal cannula to give him the requested high-flow oxygen, and every beat of his heart erupts as a peak on the monitor by the bed. Neela’s eyes often fix on that screen. She watches his respiratory rate, holding her own breath when it dips slightly and breathing a sigh of relief when it rises again. Every so often, the others allow her to take his temperature, and the pads of her fingers brush against his jaw as she holds it in place for the reading.
The whole thing feels somewhat unreal. Coop doesn't just lie in a bed like some kind of fairytale princess- he's always moving, always working, always doing something.
Which is why, after hours of slow, deep breaths and eyes that don't move beneath their lids, the small signs of waking are a huge weight off everyone's shoulders.
It begins with a slow increase in his heart rate, his breathing. Everything grows less even, less regular, as the medication keeping him under starts to lose its grip on him. His lashes flutter briefly. His nostrils flare. He shifts, pressing his cheek deeper into the pillow and exhaling heavily as though he's just getting more comfortable in his bed at home- it takes him some time to realise that he isn't at home.
When he starts to frown, Abby moves closer to the bed, gently brushing the hair back from his forehead in that motherly way that comes so natural to her.
“Coop? It's alright, sweetheart. Everything's okay, just try to open your eyes for me. Can you do that, hon?”
A sharp inhale. A small stretch. At last, a concerted effort to open his eyes, which soon reveals the barest hint of blue, hazy with confusion and the lingering effects of the haldol. He wets his chapped lips, then swallows, mouth attempting to form words that he still appears too sedated to produce.
Abby smiles, her thumb stroking his cheek just beneath the oxygen tubing. When he weakly lifts a cannulated hand, her other hand carefully lowers it down to the sheets, squeezing reassuringly.
“I know… I know. Just take it slow, Coop, I promise everything's okay. You got accidentally dosed with some haldol, but you're coming round from it now. It's normal if you're feeling pretty groggy.”
Coop sighs. He lifts his unrestrained hand to his face and clumsily rubs at his eyes, then lets it drop back down, evidently still exhausted.
“G-God… damn.”
His voice is weak and rough, but hearing it loosens the tightness in Neela’s chest.
“Yeah, that's about right.” Abby teases gently. “Did you need anything, sweetheart? Would you like some water?”
Coop murmurs noncommittally, but when Abby lifts the glass of water on his bedside and pushes the straw towards his lips, he takes a few tentative sips, eyes closing with relief.
Morris steps forward, chewing on his lip for a few seconds before he gathers the courage to speak.
“Uh, Coop?”
“Mm.”
“It… it was me who dosed you, man. I'm- I’m so sorry. I was trying to get the patient, but I just… I don't know what to say.”
Coop manages to open his eyes a fraction again, and a small smile creeps onto his face.
“I-idiot… s’okay. ‘M fine.”
He isn't fine. He knows that. Morris knows that. Everyone knows that. He's lying in a hospital bed struggling to string a sentence together, probably destined to spend the next few hours trying and failing to stay awake. He looks as pale as a ghost. His arms are bruised from IV attempts and he's on oxygen as a precaution against goddamn respiratory failure. None of this is ‘fine’.
And yet, as shitty as he's feeling, he'll say the words anyway to comfort his friend. That's the kind of guy he is.
“Y-yeah?”
“Mm… just- just tired.”
Morris sighs with relief, pressing his hand against Coop’s shoulder. “That's… that's a… I'm glad to hear it- that you're- that you're gonna be fine and-”
“Mmorris?”
“Yeah?”
“P-please shut the hell up so… so I can g’ back to sleep.”
Abby grins as Coop’s eyelids fall closed again, and she looks towards Morris.
“You heard the guy. Head off, Morris. Talking of which, I've got to make my way over to the cage before it goes to hell without me. You okay to hold down the fort for a while, Neela?”
Neela’s heart jumps. “Uh, yeah, sure. I'll keep an eye on him.”
“Great. Come on, Morris.”
Soon, the two of them are hurrying away to their respective stations, and Neela is left sitting vigil at her crush’s bedside, watching the steady rhythm of his breathing.
After a few moments of silence, Coop sighs again, a small smirk on his face- clearly, he hasn't yet slipped fully into sleep.
“Just… just you n’ me, Neels.”
“Apparently so.” she replies quietly, daring to reach out and squeeze his hand. He gives it a gentle squeeze back. “Looks like you're stuck with me for a while.”
The corner of his mouth curves up a little more, then slowly evens out with the rest of his features as he starts to relax.
“Could… coul’think ‘f worse… fates…”
“Night, Coop. Sleep well.” she whispers.
He's already gone.