55 55- Waiting Is The Hardest Part

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!

Scott burst into the emergency room, nearly sprinting to the front desk. Still in his pajama pants, he'd thrown on whatever shirt was closest, and his coat, before rushing out of his apartment. He even forgot to put on socks. Considering it was still the middle of the night, the waiting room was empty.

"May I help you, sir-" the receptionist began.

"My fiance was just admitted! His name is Ryan Neel..." He was fighting to appear calm. "Please, can you tell me anything?"

"Just a moment, sir. Could you spell that last name for me?"

Scott raked his hands through his hair anxiously as he complied with the receptionist's question. He could have sworn ten whole minutes passed as he waited for information, but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.

"Neel... Neel... Ryan Neel... Ah, here he is! Looks like he's still in surgery. If you like, you can wait in the family waiting room. It's down the hall there, take the first right, then ride the elevators to the third floor. Someone will let you know as soon as there are any changes."

Scott fished his medical I.D. from his pocket, grateful he'd grabbed the jacket he'd kept it in, and verified his credentials with a shaking hand. "I'm Dr. Scott Kranston. Can you tell me if Dr. Benri is attending tonight?"

"Let's see... Ah, yes. He is in attendance tonight. I can let him know you're here?"

"Please. Thank you."

Scott's thoughts raced as he followed the directions up to the waiting room. Surgery? Ryan was hurt that bad? He could feel his heart palpitate. There was the overwhelming need to DO something. What could he do? He was no surgeon! You need him to treat an STD, fine! Tell you the gender of your baby? Fine! But now, he was useless! Too much energy...! Not enough air to breathe...! Wasn't there something he could do?!

"Scott!"

Scott made it to the waiting room, and was broken out of his spiraling thoughts by a voice he'd only heard a few times before. Sitting on one of the chairs, hospital blanket around his shoulders, was Ryan's friend Michael. It was hard not to miss the bright hair, but even with the situation being what it was, Scott was surprised that he seemed to be wearing such normal clothes. And, his hair was damp.

Scott ran over and got down on his knees in front of Michael, pleading, "What happened? Please! Tell me what happened!"

Michael's eyes were glassy as he recounted the story with a spacy monotoned voice, staring down at his trembling hands the whole time. He told Scott about the abuse they were facing at work, and about how Ryan was determined to handle it himself. About Ryan going off to help line up a forklift, and how the new guy gave off bad vibes. He told Scott about the horrible, terrifying crashing sound that made the whole warehouse come running. He told him about seeing Ryan's shoe sticking out of the pile of boxes, and the frantic rush to unbury him.

Big, fat tears rolled down Michael's cheeks as he told Scott that the guy on the forklift was laughing... That other employees were laughing... Michael started shaking as a sob wracked his chest.

"It's just- Things don't bend that way!" Michael cried. "There was so much blood! His head was bleeding so bad! I got covered in my best friend's blood and they were FUCKING LAUGHING!"

Scott was furious. Hearing the story, all he could see was red. He wanted to find these people and pay them back tenfold. He wanted to break something, throw something, anything to ease this rage that filled him. HIS Ryan was hurt! He needed to do something about it!

But in a sobering thought, what could he do? He was no surgeon. The fanciest thing he could do was a vasectomy. And, he needed to be here for his fiance. They didn't know how bad the damage was. Ryan needed him here. Surely the police were involved, and if they weren't, Scott had a really good lawyer that would make sure they were. He slowly came back to his senses. There was only one thing he could do right now.

Michael's sobs echoed in the empty waiting room. Scott's own heart was broken, and he was frustrated. He stood quickly, and pulled Michael up out of the chair to wrap his arms around him. Michael clung to him, screaming out his hysteria into Scott's chest. Scott made no effort to hold back his own tears, and if Michael's hair got a little more damp, well, he didn't say anything about it.

They cried themselves out, shamelessly using each other for comfort. Scott immediately let go as soon as Michael pushed away, even if he was craving a longer hug. Both of their faces were red and puffy, and a string of mucous ran between Michael's nose and Scott's shirt.

"Did you know your shirt's on inside out?" Michael sniffed, wiping his eyes.

"Huh, I guess it is..." Scott agreed wearily. "And I think these are my pajama pants with the hole in them... Yeah... I'm pretty sure they are... There's the hole…"

Michael let out a weak laugh and sniffed again. "Ryan's lucky to have you..."

There was a long table set up along the wall with things like tissue boxes and magazines and such, with a water cooler right next to it. Scott grabbed a box of tissues, and got them each a little paper cup of the room temperature water. They then sat in silent comradery waiting for an update.

The sky was just beginning to lighten, and birds could be heard from outside the window. The two of them turned their heads in unison when they heard the ward's doors open. An Asian doctor stepped out, holding a case file in his hands.

"Dr. Kranston?" He called.

"Dr. Benri!" Scott stood up like a shot, and Michael followed suit.

Dr. Benri held up the file. "I'll get you filled in."

Scott gave Michael a firm pat on the shoulder and a reassuring nod. Michael nodded back and sat back down, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping the hospital blanket tighter around him than before. As Scott followed Dr. Benri into the hall, a police officer showed up to collect Michael's witness statement on the incident.

After the door behind them shut, Dr. Benri handed the case file over to Scott. "I was making a note to call you once I learned we'd admitted an emergency omega case. Imagine my surprise when the foremost expert in alpha-omega reproductive health in the city happened to know this patient personally."

Scott poured over the case file, his grip nearly tight enough to crease the paper. He and Benri had been in pre-med together, and maintained a professional relationship post-graduation. Scott was occasionally called in to assist on some trickier cases.

"There's several broken bones, torn ligaments, a light concussion, and some internal bleeding we're keeping an eye on." Dr. Benri explained. "He's looking at a lot of physical therapy, but he should make an almost complete recovery."

Scott's mouth formed a thin line as he read the charts. Four fractures in the left leg, two in the right. Two fractures in the right arm, with a dislocated elbow. Broken fingers and wrist on his left side with a dislocated shoulder. A chipped pelvis. Two cracked ribs. A laceration to the head. To see Ryan like this, it wasn't going to be a pretty sight.

"They're nearly finished in the O R," Dr. Benri continued. "One of the staff will notify you once he gets set up in a room. I don't suppose you know anything about the timing of his reproductive cycle so the proper precautions can be put in place?"

"His heat is due by the start of next week." Scott replied, relieved there was finally something he was qualified to give input on. "Given his condition, I say the best course of action is to get him stabilized as much as possible, and have a few days to rest. Put him on a high dose IV drip suppressant to keep his heat from coming early, anything but Otoforin, he's intolerant. Then, move him to the maximum-security omega ward and induce it medically under heavy sedation."

Dr. Benri nodded. "That's what we'll do, then. You look like a mess, you know. Oh, and one more thing, I wanted to give this to you personally. We had to cut it off to treat his injuries."

He handed over a small plastic bag. Inside was the remains of Ryan's ring. One of the stones was knocked out of its setting, loose in the bag. The band had been cut in the back, and was twisted open. It almost looked like it had been squished first. At least it had been cleaned. There wasn't any blood on it. You could hear Scott's heart hit the floor.