Archive of Our Own

“The elevated heart rate could just be a result of the stress. You don't think he might be feeling a little anxious?” 

Mark and Edega were sitting in the dimly lit records room, keeled over a patient chart. Even after a whole day of working on the same patient, they couldn't seem to agree about the cause of most of his symptoms. 

“Considering the fact that it's accompanied by hypotension, I'd say this is an underlying condition triggered by the injury.” Shaking his head, Edega couldn't help but drop his objectivity for a moment. “How reckless do you have to be? Attempting to end your own life because of some minor inconvenience.”

“You didn't even speak to the patient!” Mark snickered back, not very fond of the way his friend spoke about this man. “His partner of ten years left him! That's more than a minor inconvenience!”

“Oh, the tragedy. Surely, the unrequited love was worth wrecking his health for.”

Knowing he'd get nowhere with this, Mark decided to get back to the medicine. “The stress explains the heart rate, and the BP is explained by the meds we put him on. These aren't new symptoms, there's nothing wrong with him other than the physical trauma. We should monitor him overnight, and if nothing changes, we get him a psych referral.”

As if he didn't hear anything Mark said, Edega kept looking over the chart. “Did the patient experience any hypotension prior to this?”

“Uh… No. I think.”

“You think?"

“Sorry, sorry! I was just going through the standard questions in a hurry, I didn't manage to write everything down.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Edega got up from the couch. “Fine. Let's check his history.” He walked over to the shelf holding hundreds of dusty patient files. He wanted to complain when he saw the file was sitting all the way on the top shelf, but kept the whining to himself. It's just part of the job. Quietly, he pulled over the ladder and climbed up.

“Hey, careful with that!” Mark rushed up to him, steadying the ladder for him. 

“I don't need your help to get a fi-” Edega tried to make him back off, but didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as his foot slipped on the way down.

A deafeningly loud crash echoed through the tiny room as they both came hurling down to the ground. Surprised he was still conscious, Edega found himself laying on top of Mark, his face buried in his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?!” Mark rushed to ask him, freaked out and still trying to process what happened.

Having to cough up the dust that arose around them, Edega managed to squeeze out: “I'm fine.” Realizing he was still flopped over Mark like a dead fish, he jumped up to his feet, dusting off his coat. Noticing his friend still sitting on the floor, he reached his hand out. “You're not hurt, are you?”

“No, no, I'm fine!” Mark replied, taking his hand and getting back up. 

“We're going to suffocate in here,” the surgeon complained as he walked over to the windows. “I can barely breathe from all this dust.” He swung the window wide open, letting in the fresh, cold evening air. 

“It's not that bad!” Still, noticing Edega continuing to cough up the dust, he decided not to debate something so minor. “Hey, if you're not feeling well, go home for tonight. I'll stay with the patient.”

“No, I can't leave this to just you.”

“What, you think I'm not competent enough to take care of one patient through the night?" Even though the words were said with no ill intent, Mark didn't take too kindly to them. After thinking it through for a while, Edega hesitantly accepted. “Fine. But page me at the first sign of any change. Here's the file.”

“Deal. Go get some sleep.”

“Right. Goodnight, Mark.”

Though he wasn't sure why, Edega found himself turning around one last time before closing the door and leaving.

***

It was 3AM already, and he still couldn't fall asleep. For some reason, he kept replaying the accident from that evening in his head over and over again. That moment of carelessness when he let himself slip, and the moment Mark caught him. To make matters worse, that annoying cough from earlier just wouldn't go away. It was as if something was tickling his chest and throat, agitating him to the point of jumping out of bed and pacing around his room. He couldn't understand why he was so wired over a slight cough. Before he could stop and think about what he was doing, he found himself in the bathroom, taking his temperature and checking his own skin for rashes. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he shook off the odd feeling in his chest and began to get dressed. If he couldn't sleep, at least he could be of some use.

He dragged himself through the doors of the hospital, heading straight to the patient's room, knowing perfectly well that Mark would be there. 

“Gabe, it's… four in the morning. What the hell are you doing here?” Speaking under his breath, Mark slowly stood up from the chair next to the patient's bed and stepped out into the hallway, carefully closing the door behind himself.

“I'm here to take over the shift, what does it look like I'm doing?”

“I told you to get some proper sleep! I can take care of this myself.”

“I couldn't sleep. If I'm going to be wide awake, I might as well spend my time here.”

His attempt to brush off his own weariness didn't seem to work on Mark. He gave Edega that concerned look he knew so well. Like something fluttered in his chest, he felt the urge to clear his throat. Wanting to make sure Mark doesn't notice, he slipped past him into the room, shutting the door before Mark got the chance to say anything else. But it didn't take him long to realize he completely forgot to ask about the patient's condition. What's gotten into him? He did the walk of shame back outside. 

Finding Mark in their shared office, he didn't wait to ask the important questions first. “Did you do an echo?”

“Huh? Why would I do an echo?” Already dead tired, Mark frowned as he sluggishly packed his bag, digging through the many papers and files they left on the desk. Hundreds of notes and schedules were stuck to the walls of the office, making it feel strangely lived-in despite the sterile smell that was ever so present in the hospital.

“There has to be some kind of heart condition causing these symptoms. Just because we haven't seen anything on the EKG doesn't mean there's nothing to be seen.”

Mark sighed as he threw his bag over his shoulder. “Gabe, if you're so sure about this theory, go do the echo yourself. I'm going to bed.” 

Edega found himself struggling to answer, even though he knew what the obviously correct response was. “Uh, goodnight,” he managed to haphazardly blurt out after Mark had already left the room. 

What is my problem today?! he thought to himself, but didn't get to finish the thought as the pesky cough interrupted him again. Now even more stressed, he decided to get to work and take his mind off whatever was plaguing him. 

Walking into the patient's room, Edega didn't waste any time before beginning to explain the procedure. “Mr. Robinson, I have reason to suspect you may have an underlying heart condition that's causing your irregular heartbeat and hypotension. I want to do an echocardiogram to check for any structural abnormalities.”

The man laying in bed didn't bother to look at him. “What… what does Dr. Booker think?”

“He…” Edega realized it was best to not go into detail. “Dr. Booker isn't on shift right now. I'm taking over for him. The test is completely safe and painless, it will only take a few minutes.” With that, he pulled over the echo machine.

***

“Gabe, you better have a good reason for paging me right now. I just fell asleep…” Mark stumbled into their office rubbing his eyes, trying to shake off the sleepiness.

“Does this seem like a good enough reason?” Edega answered, giving him the images he was holding. All of a sudden, Mark seemed to have forgotten how tired he felt only a second ago. He stared at the scan in disbelief, turning it towards the light. “What the… this sort of damage-”

“We were both stupid to believe a suicidal patient would tell us about any concerning symptoms. He was probably hoping his heart would kill him before he managed to do it himself.”

Still keeping his gaze fixated on the image, Mark only managed to stutter out barely coherent statements. “This is- How could we not notice this right away?! I mean, look at this, it's-” He sat down besides Edega, staring off into the distance.

The surgeon was the first to break the silence. “At this rate, he'll need a heart transplant. But-”

“Whoa, wait-” Mark jumped to interrupt him. “Don't you think that's going too far?!”

“Are we looking at the same heart?”

“We should try something less drastic first! Look-” He pointed to a specific area on the scan. “Maybe we could fix the mitral valve. We wouldn't even have to cut him open. We just go in from the side, fix the-”

“When you say we, you really mean me. Mark, I'm not doing this. His condition is too severe for this to work.”

“And a heart transplant is less risky?!” With shaky hands, he put down the scans he was holding. He turned back to Edega with that puppy-eyed look of his. “Gabe. Please. This is his best chance.”

All of a sudden, Edega felt paralyzed. He couldn't bring himself to say no as the familiar fluttering in his chest came back. He needed to clear his throat before speaking again. “...Fine. I'll do the procedure.”

Mark threw himself onto him, squeezing him tight. “You're the best!” He wasn't sure whether his sudden lack of breath was from Mark accidentally suffocating him or... from something else. He shook the thought away and tried to catch his breath. “...Right, yes. I'll go talk to the patient.” Taking the opportunity to wiggle himself out of Mark's arms, he stormed out of the office.

The cough wouldn't leave him alone the entire way to the hospital room. His thoughts were racing along with his heart, no matter how much he tried to regain his composure. He couldn't pinpoint why he felt so wired – was it the cough that just wouldn't go away, the procedure he felt he shouldn't go through with, or was it-

No. Mark didn't do anything out of the ordinary. This is the way he acts with everyone.

So why did it feel like it meant so much to him?

Though he felt he knew the answer deep down, he couldn't find the strength to face it. Luckily for him, getting to the patient's room gave him a good enough distraction for now. 

The explanation of the surgery was followed with the same question as before. “Is Dr. Booker alright with this?”

“Actually, the procedure was his suggestion in the first place,” Edega answered, keeping his professional tone. Even though this was supposed to reassure him that he was doing the right thing, he somehow felt more and more like this procedure was a horrible idea. What am I doing?! was the only thing that kept echoing through his mind as he watched the man sign the consent form. 

It only took a few hours for Edega to get the patient into the O.R. schedule. Even while scrubbing in, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was bound to go wrong. Still, he walked into the operating room as if there was nothing to worry about. Taking his place next to the table, he noticed a familiar figure standing in the operating theater above the hall. 

“Dr. Booker, I believe your presence isn't required,” he shouted loudly enough for the man to hear him from above.

“Am I not allowed to observe the surgery?” Mark answered, pressing the intercom button to be heard down below.

“Just… go take care of our other patients.” Edega couldn't handle the tingling in his chest and the shortness of breath, not now. This was the worst situation to be distracted in. 

“...Alright.” Though he sounded hurt, Mark still listened to him. Edega waited for the footsteps to stop being audible and for the urge to cough to go away before beginning. Announcing every step he was going through to the surgeons and nurses assisting him, he took the thin, long instrument into his gloved hand. Just as he began to insert the rod into the thin incision he had made in between the patient's ribs, the sudden beeping of the machines made him halt. 

“BP’s dropping!” He heard one of the assistants' shaky voice. He immediately pulled back the probe, quickly glancing at the monitor. The moment he saw the heart rate of the patient dropping, he cast aside the probe and jumped to action. “Push 1mg of epinephrine. Get the paddles,” he ordered the assistants as he monitored the numbers rapidly declining. His palms were beginning to sweat under the rubber gloves, but he had no time to worry about that. He grabbed the paddles of the defibrillator as he heard the high-pitched, nauseating sound of the pulse flatlining. “Charge to 300 joules. Stand clear!” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he pressed the cold metal down to the man's chest, delivering the shock. 

To the relief of everybody in the room, the ear-piercing beep was interrupted and the monitor showed a heart rate of 80 again. Only as he put down the paddles did he realize his hands were shaking. “...Forget the surgery. We're done here. Get him to the ICU.”

The moment he was done changing out of the bloody scrubs, he barged into the office. Mark looked up at him from the paperwork he was going through.

“I almost killed the patient!” Even though he didn't intend to sound shaken, he couldn't control the panic in his voice.

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean? What happened?” Mark walked up to him, sitting him down on the couch. 

“I told you this wasn't a good idea! I didn't even begin repairing the valve before his heart stopped! We had to shock him to get his heart working again! He could have died!”

Patiently, Mark placed his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. “Hey, this isn't your fault. You didn't make any kind of mistake, he just couldn't handle the-”

“It''s my fault for signing off on the procedure in the first place! I shouldn't have listened to you!” Edega’s voice was getting more shaky with each word, but he just couldn't get himself to stop talking. “Why in the world did I give in?! I told you this would happen! I knew this would happen! And yet I-”

“Gabe, please, calm down! The patient's fine, it's fine!”

“Except that, before this, we had weeks to find him a new heart, and now we have days! I agreed to a completely unnecessary, dangerous surgery! Mark, we can't function like this! The entire reason we work together is because our ideas clash! If I try something too far-fetched, you stop me, and if you don't have the guts to do something that has to be done, I'm the one who does it! If I start giving in to your every suggestion, we'll end up killing someone!”

“So don't cater to my whims! I don't understand what the problem is! I- I thought you were at least slightly confident in this idea! If you really believed this was going to end badly, why did you agree?! What's changed?!”

Edega opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He realized he didn't know the answer. In theory, nothing should have changed. And yet, he gave in for no reason, altered his medical opinion for a gut feeling. 

Something was definitely wrong with him.

“Mark… forget it. It's too late for regrets now. We need to get him on the transplant list.”

Mark flopped down onto the couch next to him with a sigh, staring at the ceiling. “You really think the transplant committee will even consider him?” he asked.

“...No.” Though Edega hated to admit it, he needed to be realistic. “The moment we mention suicidal tendency, they won't even bother to take a look at his file.”

Mark was the one to lose his composure this time. “That's nonsense! His condition isn't even self-inflicted! What, should we let every mentally ill person just die?!”

“I'm not saying we should. But that is simply the way the committee operates. It will be the shortest meeting we've had in years.”

The two of them sat in silence for a while, letting it fill the room with quiet anxiety. The next words Mark spoke were said under his breath, as if he was afraid someone would hear him. “...So we don't tell them.”

“What?" Edega couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“We don't tell them anything about the suicide attempt! We'll just say he was in a car accident! They don't have to know he jumped in front of the car!” 

“Mark, have you completely lost your mind?! This is-”

“What choice do we have?! Should we just let him die?! The chances of getting him a new heart without the transplant committee are next to none!”

Dumbfounded, Edega could only stare at him, trying to decipher his expression, hoping he wasn't serious about this – but he was. “Mark. You're insane. This could get your license revoked.”

“I know. I'm not… I'm not asking you to help me. I can't force you to take that risk. I just can't, in my right conscience, let him die! I-”

“I didn't say I won't help you.” Edega couldn't believe his own words as they rolled off his tongue. It was as if he was completely unable to protest, even though he was well aware of how insane this plan was. Something was burning in his chest when he looked back at Mark. He had to walk to the window to try and catch his breath.

“Gabe, are you… sure about this? I don't want to force you to-”

“I already said I'd do it! Now, stop wasting time and get all his records here. The story we present to the committee needs to be flawless.” 

Mark nodded and left the room without a word, the silent pact now forged between them.

***

The conference room was the same as always, but Mark and Edega felt like the air was heavier than ever as they sat at the long table. The many faces of people in suits and white coats blended together, obscured by the sunlight shining behind them through the tall windows. Mark was gripping the files in his hands so hard his knuckles went white. Edega seemed to hide his own anxiety better, but kept biting the skin in his mouth. Both of them were quietly rehearsing the story they agreed to present the night before. They couldn't afford to make mistakes.

The man sitting at the end of the table began with the long-awaited question. “Dr. Booker, Dr. Edega, would you brief us on the patient's history?”

The two of them glanced at each other briefly before Mark opened the binder in front of him, beginning to present the information as confidently as he could. The letters seemed to blur before his eyes. “The patient presented to the E.R. with blunt force trauma to the abdomen as a consequence of a hit-and-run accident." Well aware of the fact that he just told a completely made-up story to two dozen people, he briefly paused to take a look at their reaction. He was quickly snapped out of it by Edega inconspicuously kicking him beneath the table, nudging him to keep talking.

Scrambling to make the pause look natural, he continued as he flipped through the papers in the binder. “The damage to his liver, spleen and ribs was repaired, but during his recovery, Dr. Edega noticed an arrhythmia, which led us to do an echocardiogram. This is when we discovered that the patient's mitral valve is severely compromised.”

Mark stopped at this point in the history, as they previously agreed. Unless the committee asks, it was best not to mention the incident during the surgery. Unfortunately for them, this seemed to be the exact topic of interest for the others. “Dr. Edega then attempted to repair the damaged valve, is that correct?”

Cursing the doctor who asked the question in his mind, Edega began his explanation. “Yes. The patient was scheduled for surgery yesterday at 5PM.”

“But the procedure was never finished?”

“...No.”

“Dr. Edega, this meeting would go by much faster if we didn't have to force the words out of you.”

He dug his fingers so deep into his palm it almost bled, but managed to maintain his composure. “Before we could finish the procedure, the patient's condition rapidly declined, causing cardiac arrest. We managed to shock him back into sinus rhythm, but had to halt the surgery.”

The man on the other side of the table turned to one of his colleagues, whispering something to him before turning back to Edega. “If the patient's condition is already so unstable he can't handle general anesthesia, a heart transplant is completely out of the question.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Edega could see Mark start to nervously shift around in his seat. His voice shaky, he tried to take over the conversation for him. “Sir, you have to understand that the transplant is his best chan-”

“The patient is stable enough to handle anesthesia just fine,” Edega suddenly interrupted him. He shot him a glance that read shut up before continuing. “During the surgery, I nicked an artery with the probe, causing internal bleeding and the instability in his heart. It was a mistake on my part.”

As silence befell the room, he could feel Mark frantically kicking him beneath the table. This was not what they had planned, nor what actually happened. He discreetly gestured to him to play along. They were too deep into the act already. 

The man across from them spoke again. “Dr. Edega, that was not mentioned in the surgeon's report we have here.”

“I… didn't get a chance to finish the report. Dr. Booker and I were busy keeping the patient stable and managing the other patients in the cardiology ward this entire night.” Though the next words were harder for him than stacking lie upon lie, he knew he had to get over it to try and avoid angering the committee members. “I apologize. It won't happen again.”

The room was now getting noisy, many of the members whispering to each other while glancing at him and Mark. He pretended not to notice. “Quiet!” the head of the committee slammed his hand onto the table. The whispering died down in a second. He turned back to the two tense doctors. “Dr. Booker, Dr. Edega, if there is anything that would disqualify your patient from getting a transplant, we need to know.”

Mark steadied himself before answering. “No other chronic conditions, his tox screen was clean for alcohol and psychoactive substances, and no history of mental illness.” The last part was such a gigantic lie he had to remind himself he was doing this for the greater good.

“Is there anything else that you haven't told us?”

“No.” That one word felt as heavy as the world itself as it rolled off his tongue.

“One last question. Dr. Booker, what is the patient's current condition?”

“His heart is severely damaged, especially after the cardiac arrest yesterday. At this rate, it can probably only last for a few more days, even if we put in a temporary pacemaker.” Somehow, he was grateful he got to say at least one thing that wasn't a lie.

The few short seconds of the committee members talking amongst themselves felt like an eternity to Mark and Edega. “Alright, we'll, uh,” the committee head interrupted them, “we'll discuss this and notify you about our decision. With this, I believe this meeting is finished.”

The two of them didn't waste any time before picking up their files and silently disappearing from the conference hall. 

They made sure to get as far away from the room as possible before collapsing onto the couch in a waiting room. It took them a few minutes of sitting in complete silence to collect their thoughts.

“Are you crazy?!” Mark barely breathed out.

“For what? Helping you lie to the committee? Yes, I'm crazy! We both are, we both agreed to this!”

“You- You told them you fumbled the surgery!”

“And? Do you really think our patient is going to sue me for a non-existent mistake?”

“Do you… Do you think they believed us?” Mark hesitated before asking.

“I doubt they noticed anything unusual. Most of them just wanted the meeting to be over with. But, even if they did believe us, the bigger issue is whether they will manage to get him a new heart in time.”

“That's out of our control,” Mark sighed. “Still… Thank you.” Even though he was still shaken, he managed to give his friend a smile. All of a sudden, Edega felt like he couldn't breathe again. That familiar burning sensation in his chest came back in an instant. He began to cough, feeling like there was something stuck in his throat. Through hitched breaths, he managed to turn away from Mark and hunch over the armrest.

“Gabe? Hey, are you okay?” Mark placed a hand on his shoulder, but he quickly pushed it away. Barely speaking, he managed to choke out: “Go… go get me some water.” The other nodded and stormed away.

His chest hurt, his throat was burning, he could barely catch his breath. Each cough felt like being stabbed in the abdomen. Finally, it felt like something dislodged from his lungs. He could breathe in again. Shaky, he opened his eyes and took a look at what was now laying in his hand.

A single, tiny white flower petal. It was speckled with his own blood.

“Gabe?!” He heard Mark behind him. Without thinking, he shoved the petal into the front pocket of his lab coat. Hesitantly, he turned back. “Here,” Mark handed him a cup of water. He couldn't bring himself to answer, only nodding and chugging down the water all at once. “What was that? Are you alright?”

It felt like he couldn't handle listening to Mark's voice. He answered so abruptly it hardly sounded convincing. “I'm fine, it's nothing. Just a cough.”

“Are you sure? That didn't sound too good.”

“I said I'm fine!” Edega raised his voice despite not meaning to lash out. He needed to get away from Mark, immediately. “Go tell the patient the news.”

He watched Mark slowly stand up and turn away, rounding the corner and disappearing. 

The petal still sitting in his pocket felt like it would burn through his clothes. Like everyone who passed by could see his shameful feelings. The panic starting to set in, he stormed off to find a place where nobody would see him.

Barging into the first empty room he saw in the ward, he slammed the door shut, his legs giving out on him. He slid down to the floor, his back pressing against the door, making sure nobody could enter.

Despite not being sure whether the tightness in his chest was from the illness or from the panic, it felt like it was going to kill him. But it was the least of his worries.

The undeniable, physical proof of the feelings he tried so desperately to push down was sitting in his pocket. Somehow, he hoped he hallucinated what happened only a few moments ago, that it wasn't real, that he'd slide his hand into his pocket and find nothing. 

But he didn't dare do so. He knew very well it was real. Only one question was repeating in his mind.

What do I do?

He buried his face in his hands, praying he'd wake up from this nightmare. All the choices laid out in front of him felt like a death sentence.

No.

There was only one choice to be made.

Mark can't know. Under any circumstances.

He didn't want to imagine Mark's reaction if he found out the truth. Would he hate him? Would he be disgusted by him? Would he be… disappointed? Would he feel betrayed? 

Would he be right to feel that way?

To find out such a secret after almost a decade of being friends with him, of sharing all their time, struggles, successes and failures… He couldn't blame Mark if he did hate him. He was fairly sure he hated himself.

Still, he needed to figure out what to do next. He needed to do something, or else he felt he would go insane.

With shaky hands, he took the stethoscope which hung around his neck, and began to listen to his own lungs. His racing heart made it difficult to make out his breath sounds, but what he did manage to make out sounded good enough. No crackling sounds, no fluttering. At least not yet. The disease was still in the early stages. This would, at least, give him a little more time to think. For now, only one goal was in his mind. He needed to hide this from Mark, at all costs.

The next day, Edega showed up as if nothing happened, though he began wearing a mask around patients. Not only did it prevent him from coughing on immunocompromised patients, it also helped him hide anything… unfortunate he'd cough up in front of Mark. He hoped that, after a few days, it'd be clearer to him what he needed to do, but that didn't seem to be happening. The cough was only getting worse, and his time seemed to be running out. As if paralyzed, he simply kept working alongside Mark as they always did. Somehow, he had a glimmer of hope that acting like everything was alright would make the problem go away.

But it didn't. And the symptoms were only getting more and more difficult to hide. 

“Hey, Gabe? Could you help me with a patient?” Mark approached him as he was lost in thought in the office, making him flinch. He quickly recovered. “What is it?”

“I need to do a cardiac catheterization, and I'd much rather have you assist than, uh, my other options.”

“Does the patient think the same?”

“Oh, come on!” Mark reprimanded him. “Patients don't hate you! You can just be a bit… intimidating, that's all. Now will you get up and come help me?”

It seemed like there was no way out of this one. Fine. He followed Mark to the cath lab.

While Mark was explaining the exam to the patient, he prepared the equipment in silence. It seemed like that was a much better arrangement than the opposite.

“Everything ready?” Mark asked him as he put up the IV sedatives.

“Mhm.” Edega took the scalpel into his hand, bringing it to the patient's leg, where the incision should be made. But before he could put the sharp metal to his skin, he felt the burning in his chest return. His hand was unsteady. He had to think quickly. “Dr. Booker, would you… mind beginning the procedure yourself?”

Mark looked at him strangely. Something was obviously going on, but, not wanting to make a scene in front of the patient, he obliged and they swapped positions. 

As the procedure went on, he found himself strangely focused on the way Mark was treating the patient. He was being so gentle and reassuring it almost disgusted him. Or maybe it made him feel… jealous, in a strange way. It's not that he thought a coronary angiogram was the pinnacle of romance, but he couldn't imagine letting Mark be so gentle with him. He'd immediately tell him to cut the pathetic sentiment and move on. 

The more time passed, the more unbearable the urge to cough was getting. He'd been repressing the cough for almost an hour now, and his chest felt like it would explode. The second he saw Mark finish the procedure and begin bandaging the site where he'd inserted the catheter, he let go of the x-ray machine and stormed outside. “Gabe?!” He heard Mark call out to him, but he couldn't turn back.

Leaning against the wall right outside the lab, he struggled to catch his breath between the coughing and wheezing. The inside of his mask was sprayed with blood when he took it off. On the floor before him, a small pile of petals was beginning to form.

“Gabe, are you alright?!” Hearing Mark approaching him, he quickly kicked the petals beneath a cart beside him, but still couldn't catch his breath.

“Hey, c’mon, you need to sit down!” Too weak to protest, he let Mark drag him away to one of the chairs in the lobby. As he finally began to calm down, he felt the concerned gaze burning into his skin.

“It's nothing, I'm… I'm fine,” he tried to reassure him, but it was futile.

“Gabe, I really don't like this cough of yours. You need to let me do an x-ray and a blood panel.”

“There's no need, it's nothing serious. It's just bronchitis. I'll take some cough syrup, it'll be fine.” Not believing his own words, he could only hope Mark was more naive.

“At least let me listen to your lungs then-” the other insisted, reaching for his stethoscope.

“No!” Surprised by his own lashout, Edega tried to remedy the situation upon seeing Mark's shocked expression. “I'm telling you, it's nothing. More importantly, how's the patient?”

Mark didn't answer. He only kept staring at him with that worried look of his, analyzing each word spoken, each breath taken.

“Gabe… if there's something you're hiding from me-”

“Will you stop this?! I know how desperately you want to be the savior of everyone you meet, but I don't need saving! Nothing is wrong! Take your martyr complex somewhere else!”

Mark, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I have to do this. I'm sorry I have to lie to you. I'm sorry I have to push you away. 

Mark's eyes welled up with tears. Stepping back from him, his voice trembling, he could only utter one thing.

“What the hell is wrong with you...?"

The next moment, he was already gone.

***

Laying curled up on the couch in the records room, Mark couldn't help but wonder if he had done anything wrong, but no matter how many times he replayed the argument in his head, he couldn't make sense of it. It was obvious Edega was hiding something from him, but he couldn't – or didn't want to – imagine what it could possibly be. 

Is he seriously sick?

Is he lying to me about it because he doesn't trust me?

Is he in denial and doesn't want to get checked?

Or he already has a diagnosis and doesn't want me to know about it?

Or maybe he's hiding something else entirely?

Whatever it was, he couldn't just let it go and pretend it wasn't happening. The only problem was, Edega has been avoiding him for almost two days now. Their interactions were brought down to the bare minimum, only talking to each other when they needed to exchange information about a patient. The moment Mark would try to bring up another topic, Edega would simply leave the room. Still, one way or another, he had to get to the bottom of this. Leaving that man to his own devices was never a good idea. Making up his mind, he made his way to their office. There was just one small thing he'd have to take care of beforehand.

…

“You sent me an emergency page… to our office?” Edega walked in, shuffling a bunch of paperwork in his hands, clearly in a rush. “What could possibly be emergent here?”

Mark made sure to move in between Edega and the door before responding. “Gabe, we need to talk. I know you don't want to, but whatever you're hiding from me isn't-”

“Ah. Well then, I have more important business to take care of.” His voice was already hoarse from the days of coughing, yet he still tried to act as if nothing was wrong. Confidently, he stepped forward to push past Mark and leave the office.

“Sorry. You leave me no choice.” 

Before he could react, he felt a sharp prick in his left arm. Turning his head in shock, he saw Mark pulling back the syringe from his arm. “What the hell did you-” 

But he didn't get to finish his sentence before his legs gave out beneath him. Mark caught him mere moments before he hit the ground. 

“Did you… did you just… sedate me?" He tried to stand up, but his body just wasn't listening to him. No choice was left but to let Mark drag him to the couch and sit him down like a disobedient child. He sat down beside him, arms crossed over his chest.

“Look. You can either tell me what's going on, or we can do this the hard way.” Mark pulled out another syringe from his pocket. “I've got another dose right here, it's enough to knock you out. It'll give me enough time to drag you to radiology and scan your lungs. So, start talking.”

Edega gave him a stare that seemed like it could kill a man, but that was all he could do. For a few moments, he struggled to get up from the couch, but just couldn't get his legs to hold his weight. Defeated, he sank into the backrest, turning his head away. 

“Are you seriously going to be this stubborn?! Why are you doing this?! Do you really not trust me at all?!” 

But Edega still wasn't answering him. He tried another approach. “Listen… Whatever's going on, I'll help. I'm not mad at you for what you said the other day, I promise. Something's clearly wrong. You're sick. If it's… if it's something serious, you don't have to hide it. We can get you whatever treatment you need here at Middlesea. Please. Just talk to me.”

Oh, how desperately he wanted to tell the truth, to stop making Mark worry. But he couldn't. And there was reason to worry. As he tried to think of something, anything he could answer, he felt Mark gently take his hand. Without warning, another coughing fit got the best of him, but this time, he didn't have the strength to turn away and hide. In a panic, he tried to drag himself away from Mark, but the other only pulled him back down, gently patting his back as he gasped for air. “Don't… Don't look at me… Go away…!” he barely breathed out, desperate to hide this shameful illness. 

“I'm not going anywhere.”

Edega knew there was something in his throat obstructing his airway, and he knew what it was. He tried to cover his mouth, but his arm just wouldn't move. Through his blurred vision, he finally saw a small, bloodied flower falling into his lap. He was dizzy.

“What… i- is that…?” Frozen in place, Mark could only stare at the tiny flower in shock. “Gabe…! You-”

“Don't! Just… forget this ever happened. I-”

“This is why you didn't want me to scan you! You- You already knew this was Hanahaki! Why-” 

Trying to process what he just found out, he waited for Edega to stop coughing, absent-mindedly patting his back. Wiping the blood off his lips, Edega began to downplay what happened. “You didn't… need to know about this. I'm going to be fine. I don't plan on dying any time soon.”

“But…” Mark hesitated before asking the question. “Who-”

“Don't. I'm not going to answer that.”

“You… You seriously don't trust me at all.”

“I do trust you.”

Mark took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Alright. This is- This is manageable. This isn't the worst outcome… What are you going to do? Did you… talk to her?”

“Forget that. I'm going to have them taken out surgically.”

“What?!” Mark couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Are you insane?! I- I'm not gonna let you do that! I'm not gonna let you turn yourself into an emotionless shell!”

“It's my only choice.”

“No, it's not!!!” Getting more and more worked up by the second, Mark found himself raising his voice far more than he planned to. “Keeping up your stubborn, stoic act can't possibly be worth sacrificing everything that makes you human! Get over it, go find whoever it is and just tell the truth!”

“I can't! The surgery is my only option!” 

“Will you stop saying that?! You still have a choice! You can still do the right thing, the human thing! But if you're going to be this stubborn, it's only a matter of time before the disease spreads to your heart and you really have no choice anymore!” 

Edega could hear Mark's voice breaking off at the end. He knew he was crying, but he couldn't find it in himself to look at him. Seeing him so upset only made him feel worse. The burning in his chest returned, worse than ever before. It was like he couldn't breathe in at all, like he was drowning on land. Each cough felt like something was being ripped out of his lungs. 

“Gabe?!” 

No matter how much he wanted to respond, to say he was fine, he couldn't even begin to put together words. Blood sprayed on his clothes and the table in front of him as he coughed. Though he could barely see anymore, he felt something he coughed up fall into his hand. He looked down as blood trickled from his lips. It was…  crimson red, strangely slimy and intervowen with tiny petals and vines. No, this definitely wasn't a flower.

It was a piece of his own lung tissue.

Everything began to seem distant. Mark's panicked voice echoed in his ears, but it seemed so far away. His already weak body collapsed into his arms.

“Gabe?! Gabe!!! Oh, god. Someone, get in here!!! I need help!!!”

The last thing he could remember was a few nurses whose faces were blurry rushing in, and Mark placing an oxygen mask on his face.

***

Sitting on the edge of the hospital bed Edega was lying in, Mark kept turning over the scans he held in his hands. Though it was obvious what was on them, even to someone with no medical knowledge, he had asked almost half the doctors in the hospital to take a look at them. And every time, he got the same response. 

“...Mark?”

He jumped at the sound of his voice. “Gabe?! Oh, thank goodness, you're awake!” Swiftly, Mark reached for the tiny flashlight in his pocket and began shining it in Edega's eyes. “Do you remember what happened? Do you know where you are?”

Swatting Mark's hand away, Edega squeezed his eyes shut. “Do I look like I have brain damage to you? I remember everything. Now, stop burning my retinas.”

With a sigh of relief, Mark sat back down next to him. “Oh, I was so scared... I- I was worried you were oxygen deprived for too long. You almost drowned in your own blood. We had to drain it from your lungs. How are you feeling?”

“Oddly enough… mostly fine. My chest doesn't hurt. And I can speak without wheezing. What did you put me on?”

“Morphine. And dextromethorphan for the cough. But it's only a temporary fix.”

“You think I don't know that?” 

Usually, Mark would scoff at this kind of boastful response, but now he felt strangely grateful that Edega was still… himself. But he knew he was putting off something inevitable, something nobody could get him out of. Every time he'd open his mouth to speak, he'd draw blanks. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't think of a way to say what he needed to. “Gabe… listen,” he began.

“If you're going to lecture me again about how a confession of true love can save me, keep it to yourself.”

Mark's silence immediately told him something was off.

“...What are you holding? Whose scans are those?”

Unable to look at him, Mark handed him the scans with a shaky hand. He held them up towards the light.

Across the x-ray image of his lungs, the bright white silhouettes of the flowers and vines were spread out like parasites. Many of them were beginning to take root around his ribs, wrapping around them like vegetation taking back its own ground. The other scan was of his heart. The grayscale image clearly showed the chambers and walls of his heart – and the outlines of the flower buds beginning to blossom inside of them. 

Without a word, he shifted his gaze to Mark. His head was bowed down, but his hitched breathing made it obvious he was holding back tears. “I… I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, it's- there's nothing we can do. We… scheduled the O.R. for tomorrow morning.”

“It's fine, Mark. I planned to elect into surgery anyway. This doesn't change much.”

“No, it's not fine! Nothing's fine!!!” Mark just couldn't hold it together anymore. “Because you just had to be such a stubborn goddamn idiot, you'll lose everything that makes you you! Everything that makes you human! How am I supposed to be fine with that?!”

“I'll live.”

“You call that living?! You- you'll be an empty shell! You won't be who I once knew anymore!”

“I was never exactly an emotional person. I'll manage. Maybe it will be easier that way.”

Mark felt like his heart would shatter. “You can pretend to be an emotionless bastard all you want, but I know you're not! You can be as cruel and cold as you want, but you care! You're going to lose that part of yourself! I can't be okay with that, I-” His words trailed off into haunting sobs.

“It's better than the alternative.”

“What alternative?! I don't understand you! I don't understand why you're so hellbent on hiding the truth from me! What's the worst that could happen?! What are you so afraid of?!”

Edega averted his gaze when Mark's teary eyes met his. There was no response that seemed right. He remained silent.

“Why are you like this?! I just don't understand who this person could possibly be for you to need to hide this from me! Do you really think I'd hold this over your head? It doesn't matter to me who this is, I just wanted you to do the right thing, unless-”

Something flashed through his mind before he could finish his sentence. 

“Unless…”

Clutching the teal blanket in his hands, Edega didn't dare look up at him. He could feel his heart racing, his palms sweating.

“Gabriel. No. You wouldn't-”

“I… I didn't want you to hate me.”

He finally gathered the strength to look up at the person he did all of it for. The petrified expression on Mark's face didn't tell him how he was meant to feel. He was getting lightheaded bracing for a response -- any sort of response.

Instead, he only felt Mark wrap his arms around him, pulling him in as tightly as he could.

“You- You fucking idiot! Why wouldn't you tell me this earlier, why-”

“Mark..?”

“What do you want me to do now?! H-How do you expect me to live with myself?! How do you expect me to live without you?!"

Unsure whether he was allowed to, Edega carefully hugged back the trembling man. A pit formed in his stomach. “I just… I didn't want you to see me differently. Mark, I… I kept thinking about how you would react if you knew the truth, I couldn't… I couldn't risk losing you.”

Mark only squeezed him tighter. “This didn't have to… This didn't have to happen…! If I just… I should've realized sooner, I should've forced you to tell me the truth, it wouldn't have come to this! Did you really think I could ever hate you?!”

“Mark… do you really feel this way? Or are you just saying this to comfort me?”

“You... You really have no clue how much I love you… I- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! This is all my fault, if I just realized what was happening before it was too late…!” His voice betrayed him, breaking off and turning into weeping.

Edega could only stare off into an empty spot on the wall, unable to process what was happening. Instinctively, he began patting Mark's head, as if soothing a child. “...This isn't your fault. I'm not your responsibility,” he whispered, but it felt like nothing he could say would be of use. Mark only clung onto him harder. 

“I never wanted this to happen, I was… trying to protect you, Mark. I didn't want you to have this weighing on your conscience. Forgive me.”

“You're such a jerk..! What am I going to do without you…?!”

“I'll still be there.”

“N-No, you won't…! It won't be you! You won't be the same! What am I going to do with myself?!”

Edega tried to say something, anything, that would make him feel better, even a comforting lie, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he slowly pulled Mark away from himself and took off his own oxygen mask, gently pressing a kiss on his forehead. 

“Y-You… shouldn't be taking that off. Come on, you need to lay back down,” Mark barely choked out, trying to pull himself together. He placed the mask back on Edega's face and pulled the blanket over him, mechanically going through the motions. 

“There's some space for you… if you want to.” Edega scooted over to one side of the bed, patting the mattress beside him. Without a word, Mark laid down, curling up to him. 

The dim light of the hospital room flickered over the two of them, the only sound in the room being the monotone, steady beeping of the machines. The streetlights illuminated the darkness outside of the hospital, shining into the room through the windows. 

“Mark..? What time is it? How long have I been unconscious?”

“It's… around 2AM, I think. I'm not sure,” Mark answered, sniffling.

“You should be sleeping.”

“No. I want to stay with you…”

“I'll still be around once you wake up. Just close your eyes.” Gently, he wiped the tears off Mark's face.

“Just a little while longer…”

“...Alright.”

For a while, they laid together in silence, holding onto each other. 

“How is our patient?” Edega asked after a while.

“That's what you're worried about right now..?”

“Well?”

“...The committee agreed to put him on the transplant list.”

“Ah. I see. Good.”

However hard he tried to resist, Mark found it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. 

“Mark. Just get some sleep. Don't be a child.” Edega tried to sound firm, but there was no force in his voice. 

“Mh… Fine… But wake me up in a bit…”

“Alright.”

…

Hearing the usual commotion of the hospital and the chirping of the birds outside, Mark was jolted awake. Disoriented, he tried to read the time on the wall clock. “What… How long was I asleep..?”

“Good morning.”

Turning around, he saw Edega give him a weak smile, still awake.

“I- I told you to wake me up!”

“I was fine by myself.”

“God, why do you always have to be like this?! You-” Mark began his lecture, but Edega was quick to interrupt him.

“Don't. It's not the time for an argument.”

The defeated tone of his voice made Mark shudder. But he was right. Wiping his glasses with the rim of his lab coat, Mark stood up on unsteady feet. “Your surgery is in half an hour. I… We should get you ready.”

But before he could step out of the room, he felt Edega grab his hand. “Mark. One more thing.”

He turned back, sitting down beside him. “What is i-”

But his question was interrupted when he felt Edega place his hand behind his head and pull him down into a kiss. Mark froze for a moment, his heart skipping a beat. The warmth of his body, the feeling of his breath on his skin, it all made him dizzy. It didn't take him long to recover from the initial shock, leaning in and kissing him back. Something warm was trailing down his face. Only when he pulled away did he realize they were his own tears.

“I love you.”

Never did he think he'd hear those words from that jerk.

“I love you too.”

Years later...

“Thanks for the consult, Dr. Booker!” 

“It's really no problem, Dr. Paige. Any time!” He smiled as he handed back the young doctor the file. She reached over the office table he was sitting at to grab it.

“You really think I should go through with the treatment?” she asked again, looking for reassurance.

“Definitely,” he nodded. 

“I'm just worried that Dr. Edega-”

“If he causes you any trouble, I'll deal with him. Just because this is a long shot doesn't mean it won't work. He… used to understand that himself, a long time ago. Don't blame him. It's not his fault he's the way he is now.”

Paige tilted her head like a confused puppy. “What do you mean?”

Mark was equally confused for a second before remembering. “Ah, right. You're new. You weren't around back when… Look, to make the long story short. A long time ago, Gabe got seriously sick. He recovered, just…” At the mention, his voice got shaky. “...He was never quite the same again.”

Though she was dying of curiosity and the urge to ask more, she was dissuaded by the office door swinging open. Seeing the tall silhouette of the chief medical officer, she quickly hid the file behind her back. 

“Go,” Mark whispered to her.

She didn't wait to be told twice, slipping past the man and running out into the hallway.

“H-Hey, honey-” Mark began nervously, standing up to greet him.

“What were you talking to her about?” Edega cut him off. His blank stare sent shivers down the other man's spine.

“She was just here for a consult about-”

“I know she has a patient with an undetermined diagnosis. I know she wants to proceed straight to treatment with an experimental drug. I won't allow it.” His voice was perfectly monotone as he spoke. He wasn't angry with either of them. It was all merely procedure.

“Gabe, the guy is only getting worse with each passing day! We have to treat for something! If we don't, it's only a matter of time-”

“It's against protocol.”

“He's dying!”

“That is unfortunate.”

Looking into Edega's eyes, Mark felt like he only saw a void staring back at him. Something turned in his stomach. “What… What do I have to do to convince you to do the right thing?! Can't you see this as an exception?! Please, just this once-”

“No.”

Mark's eyes welled up with tears. He wasn't sure whether the person he was looking at was somebody he recognized at all. The only proof of the Gabriel he once knew was the thin scar stretching down his chest, the top of it visible under the neckline of his scrubs.

There was… something left of him in there, but it was hollowed out, vapid.

Still, no matter what, it was him.

Mark took his hand. “...I love you.”

But the only response was suffocating silence.