We work.
For an hour, we work.
I watch the monitor. I watch the temperature probe climb, decimal by agonizing decimal.32.5... 33.0... 34.2...
I don't leave his side. I hold his hand the entire time.
Around us, the ER is chaos. The other victims are being treated. The power flickers on and off as the generator struggles.
But in Trauma One, there is only the beep of the monitor and the sound of my own prayer.
Finally, the shivering stops. Not because he’s dying, but because he’s warm.
His heart rate stabilizes.72 bpm.
His eyes open. They are clearer now.
He looks up at me. He sees the worry etched into my face. He sees the snow melting in my hair.
"Hey, Princess," he whispers. His voice is stronger.
I let out a breath that feels like a sob.
"You are," I say, stroking his hair back from his forehead, avoiding the cut, "the most stubborn, reckless, infuriating man I have ever met."
Jax grins weakly. "But did I die?"
I laugh. It’s a wet, choked sound.
"No," I say, leaning my forehead against his. "You didn't die."
"Good," Jax sighs, closing his eyes again. "Because I still... owe you... that burger."
He drifts off into a natural sleep.
I stand there, gripping the rail of the gurney.
"We’re moving him," Ortiz announces gently. "ICU Bed 4 is ready."
We wheel him out. The hallway is crowded. Residents, nurses, even Sterling are watching.
I don't care. I walk alongside the gurney, my hand still gripping Jax’s, my other hand resting protectively on the rail.
We reach the double doors of the ICU.
Sterling steps forward.
"Dr. York," Sterling says, his voice cold. "Visiting hours are over. And as you are not the attending physician on record, you need to clear the floor."
I stop. I turn to face him.
But before I can speak, a small, formidable figure steps between us.
Mama Ortiz crosses her arms. She is five feet tall, but in this moment, she looks like a bouncer at the gates of heaven.
"Visiting hours?" Ortiz asks, raising an eyebrow at the Chief of Surgery. "I don't see any visitors, Dr. Sterling. I see the Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery conducting a post-operative consult."
Sterling scoffs. "He’s sleeping, Nurse Ortiz. What exactly is Dr. York consulting on?"
