Chapter Text

<- A quick reference image of Kerry Hawethorne, my main character for Open Heart

We’ll make this work.

Damn it, Rookie. We can’t go around doing this.

I’m not your boss anymore, and that means...

Amazing. You almost didn’t kill that patient.

There are some things that are worth any risk.

Kerry? Kerry, you fell asleep again.

Kerry stifled a yawn as she sat on the train, yet another thick medical book open on her lap. It was more highlighter ink than printed words, almost dripping with vivid hues of pink, yellow, and green. She had thought that maybe her days of furious cramming were behind her, consigned to lonely nights in her dorm or late night study sessions with other aspiring doctors.

Instead, almost all waking hours were consumed by research and medical studies. Heavy books taken from the hospital, medical journals read on her phone, or podcasts streamed endlessly from the moment she woke up to when she went to bed (if she remembered to turn them off).

She was the best intern of her year, the youngest to join the diagnostics team, and she was going to fight to stay there. Unfortunate whispers and rumours had abounded since almost day one that if she slipped, or someone else excelled, she could be transferred off the team.

Kerry bit her lip. Not a chance that would happen, she had rightfully earned her place and no one would take it from her. Still, a few good diagnoses and some chance encounters weren't enough to stay her position, and so she researched.

Naively, Kerry had thought that being on the diagnostics team would mean more time learning under Ethan, but it had been the opposite. Between clinics, Esme, and her own patients outside of diagnostics, it felt like she spent a scant five minutes with the team before running tasks all over the hospital.

As the announcer stated the next stop, Kerry shut her book and let out a long sigh. She had almost two hours before rounds, most of a book to get through, and an empty diagnostics office waiting for her. And, if she was lucky, a chance to talk to Ethan before work.

---

Two cups of coffee, a hurriedly eaten pastry, and one hour later Kerry had holed herself up in the diagnostics office with books scattered around and a notebook with hasty, messy writing. She had gone through the last few cases, emptying her mind of all that she could and tried to re-diagnose, or at least find suitable leads to follow up on.

With a sigh, she scribbled out her notes, tore off the paper, and added it to the growing pile. She was bouncing ideas into an ocean, no responses received, and she was beginning to get a headache.

Kerry closed her eyes for two seconds, pushed her chair back, and began tidying up the office. Books flipped closed and returned to the shelves, computer hibernated, trash in the bin, and she left the room as clean as when she arrived.

The night shift had ended and people were slowly switching over. She gave Danny at the nurse's station a nod hello on the way to the cafeteria; a moment later footsteps echoed behind her.

"Morning, Doctor Hawethorne. I didn't see you arrive today."

Kerry turned to Danny, trying not to show too much relief. Talking to someone about something other than diagnostics would be a change. "Got here early today. Needed to do some studying."

Danny raised his eyebrows. "Today? Sienna says you've been studying non-stop for weeks."

Kerry pursed her lips. It hadn't been that bad, had it?

As they entered the cafeteria a few people beckoned Danny over; with an apologetic smile he left Kerry, and she instead grabbed a bottle of cold water and some painkillers. She took two, popped the cap off the water, and easily drank a third in a few deep gulps.

She shoved out her chair, arranging it at an angle to the table and slumped down. The television was on a continuous news channel, subtitles active, and Kerry let herself zone out.

---

Danny caught back up to Kerry on the way out, and the two of them swapped idle chatter - hospital gossip, bad patients, family news, and general life events. They were almost at the reception desk when an alarm started to sound and all the doors began to lock.

"Someone got too close to the maternity ward perimeter again," one of the nurses mused, partially suppressing an annoyed sigh. A moment later it seemed like everyone’s pager went off, as people reached into their pockets.

Active shooter. ER.

--

Ethan was one to always make sure he got to work ahead of schedule. Fifteen minutes wasn't that much time all things considered, but it was enough time to get coffee, answer any immediate emails, and prepare himself for the day.

Coffee in hand and mind already running through diagnosis and treatment plans for their latest patient, he didn't notice the small but growing number of people outside the hospital, nor did he pay much attention to the first responders that were studded all over the place.

"Excuse me, sir, but you can't go any further."

Ethan frowned, belatedly pulled out of his thoughts to witness the scene in front of him. Police cars, people with security vests, guns by their sides and radios in their hands. Vivid 'Do Not Cross' tape strung everywhere like confetti, and more than a couple of people with their phones out, recording the local situation.

"I work here."

"Not today. Someone called in a situation earlier, place is locked down tight. Until we figure out what's happened and how to resolve it, we're not letting anyone in or out."

"Then I'll wait."

"Fine by me," the security officer said, giving a shrug as Ethan turned to sit on one of the benches that lined the grassy front of the hospital. He took another sip of his coffee and glanced at his phone. Ten minutes until start of shift. he would have expected June to be there by now. Baz would turn up precisely one minute early, and Hawethorne...

Ethan tried not to let the grimace show on his face, aware that at least one phone camera was pointing in his direction. He didn't know what Hawethorne would be doing - whether she'd be in her apartment furiously cramming the contents of yet another book into her brain, or if she had decided to pull yet another full day in the hospital.

A tired doctor is no use to anyone. An exhausted diagnostician is no use to me.

I had a long night. I was looking up studies for our patient.

Why? We have a diagnosis, and a treatment plan.

Because…

Because what, Rookie? All I see is you running yourself into the ground for no good reason.

Because I'm not good enough.

Not good enough?

Yes. How can I compete with the rest of your team? They have years of experience on me, and I'm only a second year resident.

A second year resident who had made her place on the diagnostics team, Ethan had reminded her. He had seen her furiously thinking and researching, tossing out ideas into the scrum for the rest of the team to hook on to. The exhilaration he saw on her face upon getting a correct diagnosis was second to her delight at being able to tell the patient they knew what they were suffering from, how to cure it, and that they would soon be leaving the hospital.

Ethan checked the time again. Right on the hour. He could see a few people in labcoats standing around in mild confusion, and others he recognised by face. None of them were Hawethorne, and as he glanced back at his phone he slid his thumb across the screen, unlocking it, then hovered over the contacts button. A second of thought later, his phone was once more resting in his pocket and he turned back to the lockdown.

---

Running through an active shooter situation in a safe, pre-planned environment was a world apart from being thrown right into the middle of an active shooter situation. Thankfully for Kerry, the difference was similar to that of medical school versus residency, and after a moment of shock she managed to press down the panic and began to think rationally.

The incident had started in the ER, and between the general reception and there was a maze of hallways and stairs, complete with a few staff only areas that needed keycard or pin access. Unfortunately, the area beyond them was an even worse maze, making it a choice of hiding or futilely trying to make their way past the shooter.

Thankfully there were rooms they could lock down as emergency access dotted all around the hospital, pointed out in prior scenario training. A few staff had already started moving, Danny being one of them, opening one the rooms and looking in to check that they were suitable. He waved over a few people, Kerry included, while others moved to find their own secure areas.

Kerry slid in as the last person, the door clicking shut before being followed by silence. Someone in the room let out a breath and the lights clicked off, leaving them in darkness. Kerry shuffled in place, resting her back straight against the wall. They had all squeezed against the same wall the door was on, Danny keeping an eye out the window as best as he could.

“How long do we need to stay here?”

“As long as we need to.”

---

More police and special forces made their way to the hospital, expanding the clear zone around the building. Accompanying them were more reporters and civilians crowding around the police tape. Ethan moved away from the epicentre towards a slightly less crowded area, and checked his pager once again. As he put it back his fingers slid over his phone once more, and he plucked it out again.

As before, he swiped across the screen and opened the contacts page. It was a good twenty minutes after normal starting time, and he had still yet to see any sign of Kerry. No blonde hair in an intricate hairstyle, no fancy clothing that she had treated herself to in celebration of joining the diagnostics team, no wandering over with a heavy book in her hands and dark bags under her eyes from a too-long study session the night before.

He pressed Kerry’s number and held the phone up to his ear. It rang once, twice…five…eight times and went to answer machine. Ethan frowned and hung up without leaving a message. He scrolled through the rest of his contacts list but found a strong lack of other people he could ask of Kerry’s whereabouts.

Placing his phone back in his pocket, he glanced back up at the scene. A couple more police were waved through the cordon and one headed straight to another and began a heated discussion. After a few minutes one nodded and headed to a separate area just beyond the other.

Finally, Ethan saw a familiar face. No one from the diagnostics team, no one from the new influx of interns. They stopped at the cordon and looked left, looked right, before turning and heading away from Ethan into a group of people.

---

Only one person had their pager on, silenced and held carefully in their hand to minimise the sound from vibrations. No clock in the room or visible from the window, the only sound people breathing, all sense of time began to slip away.

“Still nothing,” breathed one after glancing through the window before crouching back down. Kerry had seen her on a few occasions around the hospital, mostly brief and across the cafeteria during meal breaks. Kerry didn’t even know what department she was from, how long she’d been working there, or even her name.

And Kerry wasn’t even sure if now was a good time to make small talk. As a result, everyone in the room descended into silence once more, irregular breaths being the only measure of time.

---

Forty-five minutes.

Forty-five minutes since Ethan had intended to walk up to the diagnostics room, greet Baz, June, roll his eyes as Kerry powered through yet another stack of books and journals.

Forty-five minutes since maybe they had details of their newest patient, unseen diagnostics, questions and queries flying around until they hammered down the details and began to run through a treatment plan.

Perhaps a couple of hours until the patient arrived and they could start the treatment. Baz, June, and Kerry would all do their part – maybe June would pick up on some obscure detail they’d missed; maybe Kerry would get an idea of something different from talking to the patient; maybe Baz would have a spark of inspiration or a sudden epiphany.

They’d get there. They always figured out the problem in the end, and that was all that everything was. A problem. A puzzle. Something that always had a solution. Always. Always.

A hospital lockdown was not a problem he could solve. Not even if his entire team was there could they even think of a way to resolve the situation. That was something to be left to the professionals – and he was not one of those professionals.

He stepped by a bench and pulled out his phone. This time, when it went to answer machine he ended the call and re-started it. Maybe Kerry was asleep – maybe she had accidentally slept in after one of her study sessions. Maybe if he called her phone enough it would wake her, she’d pick up, answer in that sleepy voice he had heard so much, that reminded him of those two nights they had stolen together.

Ethan flicked the screen off and shoved his phone away in frustration. He ran a hand through his hair and turned back to look at the hospital. There was a skeleton crew outside; most of the police and emergency services had disappeared inside which he desperately, desperately hoped was a good sign.

They were heading in to clear the hospital, evacuate staff and patients, and resolve whatever situation had caused this mess in the first place. Kerry would turn up at the perimeter with hastily pulled-together hair, look at the scene in front of her, and make a comment about missing the fun.

And damn it, he’d laugh at the joke. Laugh and be relieved and grab her hand and entwine his fingers with hers. Because they’d both been spared the situation, spared being locked in the hospital for who knows how long, and were both able to stand and watch from the outside.

Because right now, the reality was different.

Kerry was in the hospital, and he didn’t know anything.

---

The door to the room slammed open and someone stifled a yell. The face that looked in was a young, fresh-faced, panicked hospital worker – no hospital uniform but instead another, a cafeteria worker. As his wide eyes scanned the room Kerry glanced behind him to check the empty hallway beyond, and someone beckoned him in.

He scurried into the room, knee falling to the floor before he was fully in. The door swung shut, slamming louder than intended. Someone whispered out a curse and Kerry edged up to glance out of the window. She stayed there for a good thirty seconds, but nothing changed.

“Clear,” she whispered to everyone, and saw the relief in the air. She slipped back down to the floor and gave out a smile to the others in the room. One returned it, and everyone began to relax.

---

“Oh! Doctor Ramsay, I didn’t expect to see you.”

Ethan turned around, seeing Sienna Trinh looking at him, wide-eyed in surprise. She was wearing a short jacket, dark blue v-necked shirt, and loose capris, looking hardly out of place amongst all the other people watching the situation.

“Doctor Trinh. How are you?”

“I…uh, I should be asking you that.” She stepped closer and peered towards the cordon. “Kerry left early this morning, and no one’s been able to get a hold of her since. I was hoping…”

“I’ve not seen her.” Ethan stood up straight, clasping his hands behind his back. He let out a breath and looked back at Trinh. “Knowing her, she tried to get here early. Research before work. And whatever is going on in there, she walked straight into it.”

Sienna moved a half-step closer to Ethan and furrowed her brows. “You don’t-“

“Do you?”

Sienna pulled the end of her sleeve over her fingers, worrying it and running the fabric through her other hand. She let her arms fall to her sides and started to watch the hospital entrance, mirroring Ethan’s positioning.

---

Another door slammed, another wave of people jumping from fright. Kerry glanced through the window once more, this one followed by a mouthed curse. She slid down the door, hand covering her mouth, shaking her head when someone looked over.

She desperately wanted to look through the window again, identify where he was going. There was no sign of a gun, and it wasn’t sure if he was potential attacker or victim. He looked normal, average, someone who could be anyone.

Something slammed against the door and Kerry stifled a yelp. She slammed her hands down onto the floor, feet stretched in front of her. The door jolted again, bouncing Kerry forwards. Everyone else shifted back away from the door, eyes glued up in fear of what might be happening.

“Get out! I know someone’s in there – get out!”

Kerry clasped her hands to her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed. She let out a low, slow breath and stood up, back to the door. As soon as her shoulders passed the bottom of the window the door flew open and someone grabbed her arm, dragging her back.

“Everyone out, now!”

Kerry was able to glance at the gunman; he was pointing the gun with a shaky hand, turning from one person to the next in the span of a few seconds. Sweat poured down his temple and he swallowed very audibly.

“Anyone else? Anyone else?” he said as the last person walked out of the room. Yanking Kerry with him, he stuck the gun in first, his head second. He stepped back, pulling Kerry with him once more, and raised then gun when someone tried to approach him.

“Get back! Get back or--” he paused, swallowing again. He didn’t seem all that focused on what was in front of him, distracted by something. He shook his head and walked up to another of the evacuated people, gun down by his side.

“How do I get out of here?”

The other person half held their hands up, glancing around nervously. He took a half step back, trying to see if someone would relieve him. Instead the gunman turned back to Kerry, forcing his way into her personal space.

“How the hell do I get out of here?”

Kerry stood calm. “Back through the ER.”

The gunman pointed the barrel at Kerry. “Don’t joke around. How do I get out?”

“Back through the ER.”

He stepped even closer, sweat threatening to drip into Kerry’s clothing. He raised the gun back up again, and in the blink of an eye Kerry was stumbling back, blood in her mouth, pain on her forehead.

“Hey!”

She didn’t see who jumped, just that someone did, and two people fell to the ground. Another one joined in the fray, grabbing a flailing hand and pressing it down to the floor. The gun skittered away and a fourth person kicked it further away, and then everyone was in motion.

Most jumped on the gunman, holding him down and stopping any further movement. Two ran to Kerry’s side, one pressing a hand against her forehead while the other tried to talk to her. After a moment Kerry began to catch up, began to understand what they were saying. She pressed her own hand to her forehead and her fingers came back damp, sticky, bloody.

The gunman slammed into the wall face-first and someone patted him down, shaking his head when he found nothing.

“Well, what do we do?”