Gideon Fischer ⚕️ Alex Karev (pediatrician) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2020-05-01 10:36:00 |
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Considering the jobs they had, it wasn't really unusual for Gideon or Embry to be out of the house at odd hours. Soon-to-be-born babies waited for no one, after all, and they didn't get much more amenable to schedules even once they were old enough to be Gideon's patients. He was home now, however, though Embry was not. Her patients- the moms-to-be- sometimes requested house calls, and, well, that was what Embry was trained for. Minimal medical intercession, when at all possible. If that meant home births, so be it. (Gideon, personally, was very much an advocate of taking advantage of a hospital, but he was more than a little biased in that, and more than a little male, so his opinions counted for fuck-all, in the end, on that topic.) He saw Embry's face light up his phone screen- now styled as "Embry 💍!"- and he hit the button to accept the call, a smile on his face by reflex. "Hey, Em. On your way home?" -- The delivery itself had gone off without a hitch, really. The baby had been strong and healthy, the mother had done wonderfully, and the clean up that Embry helped with afterwards wasn’t too strenuous or lengthy. She had packed up all of her unused medical supplies back into her car, and was relieved to be on her way home to her fiance. It hadn’t even been a full two months since they’d gotten engaged, but she felt more certain by the day of that decision. Embry had eaten a snack at the patient’s house, but she wanted a more proper meal. It was after most people’s supper time, but she thought maybe she might pick up something from Grandma’s or slide into Sal’s to pick up a pizza to bring home. All of those thoughts had stopped, however, when she saw a large figure in front of her car, and despite the fact that she hit the brakes hard, the car had still made contact. Her brain managed to piece together that the figure she’d seen was a deer right as she made impact. Though she was wearing a seatbelt, Embry had still pitched forward. She didn’t know what she had hit her head on, but the airbag had deployed, and her ears were ringing, head pounding. Her heart was racing in her chest, and she realized that she was on a sudden adrenaline high, though nothing seemed to hurt as badly as it probably should. It took a few moments before she could find her phone in her scrub shirt pocket, and when she did, she fumbled with the screen. It immediately pulled up her recent contacts, most of which were Gideon, and she’d called without much of a second thought even if some part of her brain was reminding her that she should have dragged the little emergency button instead. His voice, however, almost brought tears to her eyes, and she gave a small little laugh that sounded funny to her own ears when he asked if she was on her way home. There was a persistent dinging going on somewhere in the car that was probably designed just to drive her insane because it just made her head pound harder, “I was. Hey. Maybe don’t freak out.” She wasn’t actually sure if she was telling him not to freak out or if she was saying it to herself. -- Was? Gideon frowned, but the words that followed turned any minor concern into a near-panic. "What's going on? Are you okay?" -- “There’s a deer,” Embry stretched a little in her seatbelt, trying to see outside of her damaged car, and could vaguely see a not-moving shape out on the road, “I mean, there was a deer. It came out of no where. Like, God, it wasn’t there and then it just was, and I definitely hit it.” She gave a shuddering sort of breath, “It’s not moving, and I...my car is…” Embry blew air through her lips, a descending sound, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. -- Her words were a bit fragmented, but Gideon bit back his instincts to ask for more details, to need to know every little thing that had happened, to ask her to assess any injuries she might have incurred... Well, he almost did, anyway. "Are you okay, Em? Is your car still on the road? Have you called the police?" -- Her head was pounding, and she wasn’t entirely certain that she wasn’t going to throw up in her own lap, which was ultra sexy, she was certain. She tried to focus on what he was asking her, opening her eyes once more to glance around, which reminded her to actually hit her emergency lights, “Yeah, I’m...not in a ditch or anything.” Frowning in concentration, she knew it was a stupid question, but still asked, “Should I have called the cops? Are the cops going to arrest the deer?” -- In another time, another place, they'd definitely laugh at that question. For now, though, Gideon just pressed his lips together, shook his head- even if she couldn't see it- and offered his calmest, "No, but you need a police report of the incident for your insurance, Em. And," since she hadn't really answered the question as to her well-being, he added, "just... call 911. They'll send the paramedics out to you, too. But if the cops get there first, tell them you're not getting out of the car until you've been medically assessed." -- "Fuck. Right. Okay," Embry knew that she probably needed her head looked at. She couldn't honestly tell if anything else was wrong or not, so she tried to reassure him, "I think I'm mostly fine. I hit my head. But I'll stay put." There was a little blood running down her temple, and she hadn't bothered to wipe it away, "I'm on Ruckerville. Almost to Winter Roses, I think?" -- She wasn't far from him, maybe fifteen minutes. And while Gideon logically knew that the police and paramedics would do their job, he… still couldn't help the question. "Do you want me to come out?" -- The moment that he had asked if he should come - that she imagined him there with her - it seemed to dawn on her that she was scared. Her lip trembled and tears pricked at her eyes, "Please… unless, uh…you think it's better to go to the hospital. They're probably going to want to take me to the hospital." -- Even before Embry had answered the question, Gideon was standing and gathering his things to go. A small medical bag (with inflatable c-collar) was grabbed from by the door, and by the time Embry said please, Gideon was in his car. "I'm on my way to you now. Sit tight. Breathe." -- She had taken a breath as reminded, and nodded a little even though he couldn’t see it, “I probably need to call the emergency line, and….I’ll be right here when you get here. I love you.” -- It was less than ten minutes before the police arrived, lights flashing. An officer approached the car, flashlight in hand to survey the scene. "Roll down your window, ma'am. Are you alright?" -- Embry had called the police as promised, and she tried desperately not to fall asleep in the time that it took for them to reach her, the operator on the other end of the line insisted that help was on its way. She squinted unhappily in the beam of the flashlight, the brightness of it causing her head to pound a little harder. She rolled down the window more than the crack it had been...but with her right hand because the left was...protesting. She gave a small huff from that momentary effort and nodded a little, “I’m a little banged up...so I’m not going to get out until...I’ve been medically assessed.” She thought that’s what Gideon had said, right? Was he supposed to be doing that medical assessment? -- To the officer's credit, at least, they didn't protest this. A quick survey of the scene certainly showed what had most likely happened, after all, and while protocol might have said to run a breath test... that could probably wait until the paramedics got here. "The EMT's are on their way," the officer nodded, dropping the flashlight beam a bit so it wasn't in Embry's face. "Can you tell me what happened?" -- Embry’s face probably screwed up something funny when he asked her what happened, but she responded slowly, as though it should have been obvious by the scene, “Uh...I hit a deer?” She leaned her head back against the headrest and sighed, “I want to sleep, but I’m not supposed to sleep.” -- "No, ma'am, I'll need you to stay awake." The officer looked around with the flashlight again. "Clear weather tonight. Nothing else going on here, ma'am?" -- “No,” she answered, her voice maybe a little bit more curt than truly necessary, “I delivered a baby about 5 miles down the road, and I was headed home. A deer jumped out in front of me.” She was more than a little irritated that there would be an implication of anything else happening here, “Do you want me to say it again?” -- Though her irritation set off a few minor alarm bells, the officer was distracted in the next moment by the arrival (and lights and sirens thereof) of the EMT's. "Sit tight, ma'am." The EMT's approached, and the officer went back to their patrol car. "Miss," a smile, this time. "I'm Rudy, this is Daniel. I can see that you're bleeding, so we're going to get a collar on you to stabilize your neck and then get you out of that car, alright?" -- Although these were obviously trained medical professionals, Embry stubbornly sat there, her hands limp in her lap, her purse wedged there beside her hip, “I’m just going to sit right here until…” She looked out the window, seeing the aforementioned Daniel and gave a groan. Dunhaven was too small. Because when you had an emergency, you ran into old prom dates that you hadn’t thought about in years. Prom dates who spiked punch for the entire senior class, got handsy with your breasts, and then became EMTs, “Yeah, no, I’m not getting out.” -- Rudy, an older man, perhaps in his 50's, frowned in (genuine) concern. "I promise, miss, we're here to help you. We want to get you out to Dunhaven General, so the doctors there can sort everything out. I'm sure you're not feeling too hot right now, so why don't you let us do our jobs, okay?" -- “I’m a nurse practitioner specializing in midwifery in association with Dunhaven General. My fiance is a doctor at Dunhaven General. I am aware of your job, and I genuinely believe that you want to help me. I also am certain that I have a concussion, and I’m starting to think my arm is broken. My fiance is coming, and I’d rather decline medical treatment than get into an ambulance with Daniel McHandsy over there.” She gave a vague gesture with her good arm towards the slightly-older-than-her man lingering closer to the cop. -- Though the vehemence with which she spoke seemed to take the man by surprise, he… didn't protest. Instead, he attempted a different suggestion. "What if I treat you here, and then when your doctor-fiance gets here, he can take you to the hospital? I don't want you to decline entirely, miss, not if I can do some good." -- She didn’t know if Gideon would attempt to get her to go with the ambulance or not, but she sat there stubbornly for another few moments before she finally gave a small nod, “Fine.” She reached over to unlock the door, and unclipped her seat belt, but didn’t otherwise move because she hadn’t otherwise been instructed to yet, “I’m Embry.” -- "It's nice to meet you, Embry." Rudy smiled as he opened the car door, leaning down in a bit to get a better look at the situation. Airbag deployment almost always meant a concussion, and she may have even had some bruising from her seat belt. But, as promised, the c-collar would come first. "You've got one good arm there, why don't you pull your hair aside so I don't snag it in the collar here. My wife taught me that one." -- “You, too, Rudy,” she wished their meeting was under better circumstances, but still did as he asked, pulling her hair a little to the side as he leaned in to place that collar around her neck for stability. It wasn’t precisely comfortable, but if there was anything more serious going on than she otherwise knew, she’d be grateful for it later. Embry let her hair back down when that stabilizer was in place, and sat back a little again, resting her eyes for a moment, finding it more and more difficult to keep them open. -- But Rudy kept on talking, whether from habit or just to keep Embry's attention. "Why don't you tell me about your midwifing? That's gotta be an interesting job." He continued the exam as he could, making certain that there wasn't any other bleeding, that the arm was set into a makeshift sling… -- "It is," she agreed, but she didn't open her eyes. They felt heavy. Embry took a deep breath, though her chest ached at that, "I don't always do home births like tonight…but they're good for the mom's that hate hospitals. She had a beautiful baby boy. My first delivery was in an elevator when I was barely eighteen, so literally anything else…is not nearly as scary as that." -- "Wakey, wakey," Rudy offered, gently touching Embry's cheek, trying to convince her eyes back open. "Come along, miss, you don't want to be asleep when your doctor-fiance gets here, right?" His tone masked much, but not all of his concern. There was a portable oxygen tank in the ambulance, but he wasn't sure that going to get it was the best choice, not if it meant leaving Embry here. Finally, Rudy took a step back, calling over to his partner. "Grab me the portable O2, then stay back. She's stable, but I want to keep her that way." -- She knew that she needed to keep talking...that staying coherent was the best thing. Practices had been updated to note that sleeping with a concussion wasn’t necessarily the worst thing in the world, but she hadn’t proven her balance or motor skills yet. If she fell asleep, it could hide other symptoms...slurred speech or mild seizures. Embry made a face when he patted her cheek, but tried to pop her eyes back open. She managed to, somewhat blearily, and glanced over with a mildly displeased stare when Daniel was sent to go get oxygen for her. “He was not the best prom date,” she muttered, not really certain how much time had passed, but feeling as though it had been a very long time since she’d talked to Gideon, “Rudy, can I go home now?” -- Daniel dropped off the oxygen tank, then handed Rudy the sealed package that contained the nasal cannula. Rudy made quick work of getting the two hooked up, then leaned back into the car to get the tubing set around Embry's head and into her nose. "I believe that, Miss. He's… got potential to be a good EMT, if he listens to his elders." A little smile. "Not home quite yet. We're waiting for your doctor-fiance, remember? Why don't you tell me about him." Rudy kept two fingers just at the wrist of Embry's good arm, monitoring her pulse. -- The oxygen flow helped a little bit with the dizziness and nausea that had begun to set in. She was starting to feel more of whatever bruising she had from her safety restraints as well as the pain in her arm, which was in a sling, but not yet in a true stabilizer. “He’s my best friend, and...and I didn’t much believe in marriage until him. He’s been asking me to marry him for a year, and we just finally got engaged in November. He’s the best person I know. He sees me...when no one else gets my quirks, he does. I’m...working on my dissertation...to get my DNP, and he’s been my biggest supporter,” she was rambling a little through topics, though she wanted to wax poetic about Gideon and was falling a little short of whatever words she might normally use to describe him. -- Gideon gave thanks to the app on his phone that let him know Embry's location as soon as he sought it out. It had taken longer than he expected to get out to her, the dark country roads unfamiliar and winding. But the flash of emergency lights ahead let him know he was nearby, and he pulled up just in front of where Embry's car was… was half crumpled in on itself. His heart sank into his stomach, and though he knew the lights meant help, Gideon still ran to the driver's side of Embry's car. "Em! Em, I'm here." -- They’d put those apps on their phones when they went on the family plan together. It wasn’t a technique meant to control or monitor one another, but rather for emergency situations like this one. Embry didn’t even think she’d looked at it at all since they’d installed it onto their phones just after they got engaged. She’d held it all pretty well together until she heard his voice, and then suddenly she was a weepy mess, her emotions finally tipping over that edge of fear and hurt at the unexpected turn of this night. “Hey. Hi. You’re here,” she sniffled a little, even with that oxygen filtered directly into her system, her eyes watery, but she managed a wibbly, “How bad is my car?” -- Her… her car? She had police and EMTs and a c-collar and arm sling and she was asking about her car? "I'm more concerned with who's in it, Embry." His voice almost monotone. Gideon shook his head, but Rudy stepped in. "Pulse is steady, but breath has been shallow. Superficial examination lends to a concussion and broken arm, likely heavy bruising to the chest and shoulder. Potential minor burns from the airbag deployment. Minor facial abrasions." "Will you transport her?" -- It was probably poor timing for an attempt at a joke, and her tone had probably fallen flat. Then, she worried that maybe he was cross at her. She'd done the wrong things tonight. She'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She hadn't called the emergency services first. She'd nearly refused medical services altogether based on old personal gripes. She was actually a little worried about her car. Yes, it was a material item that would eventually be replaced, but she had so many memories in this car. It was her transportation, and it had been since she'd lovingly put all of her savings into buying it when she'd graduated with her bachelor's degree. It was the car that had gotten her to Philly, and the one that had driven her away, too. It was the car she'd driven to meet Clementine in Baltimore, and where she'd sung with Dahlia at the top of her lungs when she was visiting home between deployment. She'd kissed Gideon a hundred times in this car…it was reliable and hers. She could hear Rudy running down her list of symptoms and seen injuries. At the question of whether or not they would transport her in the ambulance, she knew she should speak up. But she'd already said the wrong things at every turn tonight, and she was tired. Embry had let her eyes drift closed again, but through that silence she could hear Daniel speak up. "Um...I can...switch out with Cooper? Drive instead of being in the back, if that's okay with her." "Fine," Embry's one word was groggy and grumbled. -- There was something off in her tone, but Gideon wouldn't spare the time to check her out head to toe right here. Better that they get her in the ambulance and off to Dunhaven General, where actual work and help could be found. He didn't know why the younger EMT was keeping his distance, but at Rudy's signal, Gideon followed to retrieve the gurney. It popped up into place, and they wheeled it back over to Embry's driver's side door. "Nice and easy now, let's get you up and settled." -- Embry let them extract her from the car, though the moment she actually got out and moved, the nausea had kicked up from a five to a ten. She had leaned over beside her door to empty the contents of her stomach, her head spinning a little, "Sorry." She had actually gotten situated from there, happy at least that it hadn't been necessary to strap her down to some backboard. She sighed and shut her eyes, resisting the urge to ask if anyone had a mint. -- It didn't take them long to get Embry back over to the ambulance, and Gideon had made certain to at least give her (good) hand a little squeeze before assuring her that he'd meet her at the hospital. He'd followed behind the ambulance- no lights, no sirens. This was probably the most somber and nerve-wracking trip to Dunhaven General he'd ever taken, and it all but broke his heart not to be able to follow the ambulance into the receiving bay. Doctor or not, that was a sure way to get your car towed, and he couldn't put them out two cars in one night. Instead, Gideon made his way to employee parking, grabbed his credentials from the cup holder, and ran inside- past every instinct that directed him to the peds floor and down, down to the emergency room, instead. -- She hated this. Hated how her normal evening - one that should have been a good one - had turned into an uncomfortable walk on memory lane, perhaps the end of her car, and maybe a recovery period for herself that could last a while depending on the damage of her arm. Almost immediately upon arrival, she'd been taken to be formally assessed. All of her stats were given, and Embry had been relieved when the neuro consult had all but immediately determined she didn't need a head CT, and that even if she needed to be somewhat monitored, her concussion should resolve itself. She would need x-rays for her arm, and the doctor in duty wanted to do a general work up just to make sure she didn't have any other injuries unseen. -- Gideon found his way down to the ER, having fastened his badge to his shirt, and asking the first nurse he saw to point him toward wherever Embry had gone. Her bed hadn't been curtained off, but there wasn't a doctor there at her bedside. "Hey, you," he stepped up, a hand just at her shoe. -- She smiled just a little when she heard Gideon's voice. She'd already been given an IV for fluids and medications, but she reached her good hand - her dominant one - out to invite him closer so that she could see him better. "Hey...they did a general exam. No obvious further injuries. No stomach tenderness or numbness or poor reflexes. Neuro said no head CT, Grade 2 concussion, but they don't want to give me too much to suppress any symptoms so my head is kind of pounding even though they pumped me with a mild amount of Tylenol hoping to help with the pain. Waiting on an x-ray…" Which he could have gotten by grabbing the chart at the end of her bed, but maybe it just gave her something to say. -- Gideon took her hand, lacing those fingers together, and stepped up closer to her bedside. He could have taken up the chart, yes, but he was… technically not her next of kin (yet), nor was he on her case, professionally. So better that she shared that information directly. "They'll want you here overnight, then?" At least, by the time they got through all the diagnostics, it would be well into the early morning. "How are you feeling? Beyond charts and numbers, I mean." -- While they were not legally family yet and would not be for some time yet, Embry did have him down as her emergency contact. If she were to lose consciousness, she had designated him to be the decision maker. That should be good enough, if it came to that. "More or less. They may release me once my arm has been taken care of," she said, though she didn't know how long that would take. They didn't know yet if it was just a simple closed fracture or if it was more complicated. Maybe it wasn't even actually fractured. The question of how she was feeling was more complicated, "Like I hit a deer…I've been better." -- "Can I sign your cast? I promise I won't write anything dirty on it." Gideon attempted a little smile, though he wasn't entirely certain if it was misplaced or not. Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "What can I do to help, Em?" -- "You can be the very first one. If we play it right you might be able to publish a doodle a day on it," she offered, though her smile was a little weak. She closed her eyes at the brush of that kiss, and sighed softly, pressing her lips together for a moment, "I don't know. I just...feel like I made all the wrong decisions, and said all the wrong things tonight. And I don't know if I can even blame that on being concussed or if I was just having a dense…half hour or so…" -- "Em…" Gideon frowned, but gave her hand a little squeeze. "Em. Listen to me, okay? You didn't do anything wrong. You had a shitty thing happen, but it wasn't your fault. Nature happens. You're safe and that's all that matters." -- "I know, but then like…after the deer I called you instead of 911. The cop definitely acted like he wanted to accuse me of drinking. I almost turned the EMT's away because of something idiotic that happened a decade ago. I asked about my car…" she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the ache that persisted behind her eyes, "I feel…like all the things that were in my control went sideways." -- "You called for help," he amended. And while Gideon didn't know the details about the cop or the EMT's, beyond his brief interaction with the latter, he still shook his head. "He shouldn't have said it, and we'll make sure they take your BAC here, too, in case he wants proof." Though hopefully it wouldn't come to that, better to have medical on their side. "You're allowed to feel sideways, Em. Things like this aren't controlled, by definition, yeah?" -- She nodded a little at his reassurances, but she did amend, "It was mostly an implication. He kept asking me what happened like the deer in front of my car wasn't obvious…like it was my fault." Although it was probably good to cover all their bases for insurance, too, so that there was no doubt. She pursed her lips a little, but gave a slow nod, "So you're not…mad at me for asking about the car?" -- His eyes flew open in alarm, and Gideon was momentarily struck speechless. "Embry," her name escaped on an exhale. "Embry. I may not ever understand your love of old things, especially ones that aren't… conventionally attractive, but I know better than to question that devotion." -- She tried very hard not to see some double meaning in his words where he was the same equivalent as her car, but Embry knew him to be harder on himself - more judgmental - than she liked. If he didn't mean it that way, it was definitely insulting of her to point it out. She gave a small sigh, "I like what I like, Fischer. That car…has gotten me everywhere I needed to go since I was barely eighteen. It took me to Philly and Baltimore and everywhere in between. I would just go for drives when I needed to escape. It's been a great car that I could rely on, and it holds a lot of good memories. I know it's just a material thing, but it was…my first big, good decision of adulthood. I'm still not ready to say goodbye to it. That's…why I asked." -- Gideon had never held that kind of emotional connection to an inanimate object before. The cars he drove were just a means to an end, a way to get from here to there. He didn't understand Embry's love for that particular Subaru when, to him, any number of cars could have and would have served the very same function. But he let her explain, and he didn't protest her reasoning. This wasn't the time or place to do so. The car would likely be totaled, anyway, so it really was a moot point. So he just nodded. "But no matter what happens to the car, the person inside of it is infinitely more important. That's why I didn't answer, when you asked." -- "I know that. I know…that ultimately the car is replaceable, and that you were worried about me," she squeezed his hand a little, but it still did sting to not know if she would be vehicle shopping when this was all over or not. It wasn't something she wanted to do. Ultimately, that Subaru had protected her with relatively minor injuries when it could have been much worse. -- Gideon just sighed. Now he felt like he was saying all the wrong things... "What can I do to help you here, Em? Do you want me to go back to the scene and wait for them to tow your car?" -- "No, no…I'd prefer you stay with me," she assured him, though she wondered if instructions had been left on where to tow her car and what would happen to it from there. She gave a small sigh of her own and shook her head, "Sorry. It's been a long night already, and I just want them to do this x-ray, and I want to go home where you can be in bed with me. Which probably makes me a medical professional's nightmare, and I see the irony in that." -- "You don't have to apologize, Embry," Gideon insisted, though quietly. "You're hardly my nightmare, though I'm definitely not a fan of this particular vantage of you. But that isn't your fault." He gave another little sigh. "I can go check on radiology, if you want." -- Neither of them thought she would end up in the hospital tonight. It was not her best evening, but it was okay. They would be fine. She would be more comfortable at home in their own bed where Gideon could hold onto her, but this was what they had for the moment. She got the feeling that he needed to do something, as he was usually the doctor, not the family of the patient, "Okay. If we can even just get a time frame, I'm okay with that. Just so we know what to expect." -- Gideon released his hold on Embry's hand, gave a little nod, and stepped away. He wasn't entirely certain what he'd done wrong, or what more he could do to attempt at making some part of this right. He shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way to the nurse's station. The call up to radiology didn't take long, and Gideon was able to beg a bit of a line-jump for Embry's sake. Still, they couldn't promise anything less than an hour, even if they hinted it might be about half that long. He texted Embry. -- Forty-five minutes. -- Want a coffee or tea or something? -- Gideon really hadn’t done anything wrong. She was just feeling out of sorts, still. She wasn’t used to feeling halfway helpless...of being scrutinized and vulnerable. It was less of what Gideon himself had part in, and more those that had been on the scene before him...her own perceived shortcomings despite his assurance that she’d done nothing wrong. Embry had at least felt better when he’d texted, knowing there was some end in sight. Hopefully after that amount of time, they’d be content enough to let her go home. -- Chai tea. -- If they’d allow me a snack, I wouldn’t say no. -- -- I'll pull some strings. He knew that, generally, snacks weren't allowed because any number of tests were going to be run, and they didn't want food to interfere with that. Gideon wasn't actually suggesting anything that might negatively affect her health, at this point. What harm could a muffin do, anyway? So, fifteen minutes later, with a little brown paper bag and a hot chai cup in hand, he made his way back to Embry's bedside in the ER. -- If she needed surgery on her arm, it would not be considered emergent. It would likely be scheduled for the next day, should that be required, but she seriously doubted it would come to that anyway. Her blood had already been drawn for some other tests with the general work up before Gideon had arrived. They could use the same draw for a screening to prove she didn’t have any drugs or alcohol in her system, if the cops or the insurance wanted proof. When he returned with the drink and some kind of food in a small bag, Embry had managed a brighter smile this time. Admittedly, she’d dozed just a little while he’d been gone, though a nurse had come by to check on her. She currently only had one good hand, but there was a small rolling table at her bedside that would be perfect for changing between drink and snack, “Have I told you today that you’re a saint, Gideon Fischer?” -- Gideon rolled the table a bit closer to Embry's bedside, setting the drink down there for her. He'd help with the switching, of course- no sense in his two good hands falling useless. "Not as such, no," he offered, with a little smile. He unwrapped the muffin from its little bag, handing it over to Embry. -- “Well, you are,” she insisted. Embry had taken a sip of her drink while he unwrapped the muffin, but she settled it back onto the table as he handed her the treat. Blueberry. Her favorite, regardless of fresh or packaged or anything in between. She took a rather large bite out of the top of it, managing to chew and swallow about half of that bite before she gave a relieved sigh, “I’m really looking forward to marrying you.” -- He smiled a little more at her insistence, and Gideon wouldn't protest it in the least. They'd made muffins at home before, and he knew it was her go-to flavor, so he thought it was a safe bet. "I'm really looking forward to that, too, Em." A little smile tugged at his features, and he leaned over to press a kiss to her forehead. "You're going to be a super badass wife." -- She smiled a little, muffin crumbs clinging to her lips as he pressed that kiss to her forehead. She - thankfully - was no longer confined by that c-collar now that they’d made certain there was no need for it. He claimed that she was going to be a badass wife, and she wouldn’t disagree, “Good things are down the road for us.” She took another thoughtful bite of her muffin and then offered, “When I finish my dissertation, Dr. Embry Fischer sounds extra badass.” -- All told, it was probably a good thing that Gideon wasn't eating or drinking at the moment. Because when Embry said that name- her name, alongside his surname- he very nearly felt faint. He managed to refrain this into several blinks and a heavy swallow. "You… you're going to take my name?" -- Embry was a rather feminist person so she could understand his shock, perhaps, that she was planning on taking his name when they married. It wasn't something that they had actually discussed yet. She'd only come around to the idea of marriage at all these last few weeks, and yet she was so certain now that it was what she wanted. She'd all but immediately decided Fischer was eventually going to be the name she answered to. "Yeah," she told him, setting the muffin aside for the moment, "I mean, if that's okay. Not…for traditions sake or anything. I just want to." -- "No- I mean, God, yes, of course it's okay, Embry!" He stumbled over his words in his haste to reassure her. "I- I just didn't expect you to- to want to, that's all." -- This had certainly seemed to excite him in a positive way, and she was pleased to have given him some good news today. She reached up there to gentle brush her fingers against his cheek, "The two of us are family already, Gideon…so I want us to share a name, and I want our kids to share that name. There will be plenty of Marshall's left." -- His eyes half closed with the gentle touch to his cheek. He knew, of course, that they had made a family, even without any legal bonds between them. That sort of thinking had taken some time for Gideon to come around to, but he embraced it now. "I'm very much looking forward to there being at least one more Fischer, then." -- Now they actually were going to take that step to get married, even though Embry knew Gideon had accepted that they might not before she had actually made peace with marriage for herself. It had been a big change of thinking for the both of them, and she thought it spoke volumes that they’d each been able to see things from one another’s perspectives. Those few days of miscommunication had been awful, and thinking about them still made Embry’s breath catch in her chest. They had made it to here, though...and eventually those rings they already wore would come with legalities and a shared last name. “At least. Hopefully like...three more. Eventually,” Embry said, counting herself amongst that number. They’d discussed the fact that they both wanted kids a long time ago, preferably at least two to prevent them from being an only child. She picked up her tea again, taking a careful sip since it was still warm, “I know we’ve still got some time yet before all that comes to pass, but it will be great.” -- A little flush rose in his cheeks, but Gideon nodded again. "At least three more, then. A proper little quartet of Fischers." It sounded almost impossibly idyllic, but he couldn't find a single thing wrong with that. "I'm in no rush, Em. I'm not going anywhere." -- It was endearing, really, to see that flush in his cheeks. They were very familiar with one another now, and adding kids into the mix would just...prove that outwardly even if they weren’t exactly shy about flirting with one another. “I know, Gideon. I’m not either. Except hopefully to radiology pretty soon,” she grinned and took another bite of her maybe-contraband muffin, figuring that maybe she should get rid of the solid evidence before anyone came to retrieve her. -- Maybe he didn't really need to say those sorts of things aloud. They were both wearing rings now, after all. But… they felt right, even for as obvious or as simple or as known as they might have been. As if on cue, Gideon spotted the radiology attending. He quickly reached for the remainder of Embry's blueberry muffin and shoved it unceremoniously into his mouth, turning toward the wall to hide himself. -- Embry gave a mild sound of protest when the muffin disappeared from her hand, but she noted the arrival of the radiology attending a moment later. She had a difficult time not bursting out into ridiculous laughter as Gideon turned around to eat the remainder of that muffin. As the radiology attending approached looking at their chart, Embry brushed some of the muffin crumbs off of her clothes and presumably onto the floor. She felt bad about whoever was cleaning up, but...she also didn’t want to get caught, even running her tongue along her teeth and the inside of her gums. She tried to suppress her smile, though her cheeks ached a little with the effort. Still, it...felt good to have a genuine reason to laugh tonight, after everything else. Even though that also sort of reminded her that her headache was still there, despite the Tylenol she’d been given. The radiologist looked between her and Gideon’s turned back, then to the cup of tea sitting on that little table within her reach, “I hear there was a car accident?” “Deer. My arm must have gotten a little banged up, but I honestly couldn’t even tell you what happened. It was so fast,” Embry supplied, “We’re hoping that after my arm gets checked out, maybe I can go home.” -- Gideon heard the explanation behind him, but it took a few moments more before he turned back around, once he was absolutely certain that all evidence of their contraband had been destroyed. The radiologist gave a little nod. "Shouldn't be a problem. We'll get your images done and get you all set." After all, if it was something truly horrific or urgent, Embry would be in a lot more pain and likely a lot less cogent. They gave a little nod to Gideon. "Doctor Fischer, would you like to wheel her up to radiology?" A nod, a smile. "It would be my honor." -- Embry’s arm did hurt quite a lot, but the Tylenol had taken the edge off of that, and as long as she didn’t move it, it wasn’t agonizing. She just hoped it didn’t actually have to be reset, but then...there wasn’t anything wrong looking about her arm. There would be an orthopedic consult there at radiology to look at her x-rays when they came up, and hopefully they’d be able to put her in a cast right after, should it be necessary. With hopes that she wouldn’t be back in the ER after her consult, they had transferred her out of that bed and into a wheelchair instead, that bag of fluids and medicine hanging on a short little pole above her head. Embry smiled and offered distinctly, “Here, honey, let me hold your tea.” She...really wanted her tea, and it made her sad to think that it would sit on that table and go to waste. Nothing said Gideon couldn’t have tea. So, she’d taken that cup in her good hand and held it while she was wheeled up to get her x-rays, which was something they would not let Gideon in the room for, just out of policy. They only had so many vests to wear to protect from that radiation. -- Radiology hadn't taken long, and the diagnosis- an oblique nondisplaced fracture- was definitely one of the better outcomes they could have hoped for. Embry still needed a plaster cast, which she got there, next- in bright aqua blue- but after that, they'd been free to go. Embry had eschewed the wheelchair at the hospital exit, but at least Gideon's parking spot wasn't far. He held open the passenger side door for her. "M'lady." -- Although she was sore and bruised, and recommended only to take Tylenol for at least the next several hours to ensure nothing more came out of her concussion, Embry was just so damn glad to be going home. She just wanted to go home, crawl into bed with Gideon, and rest as much as she could. They had sent a messenger down while they were there to make certain it was known she would not be into work the next day, so she had time to see how she felt. Embry lifted her cup of tea in a sort of salute when Gideon opened her door, “Thank you, good sir.” She slid into the passenger’s seat, and pulled that seat belt across her for good measure. However, she did wince a little, tender from the bruising, “I think I’ve had enough adventure for one night.” -- He'd gotten in on his side of the car, watching to make sure that Embry didn't need any more help. He would have reached over to hold her hand, but that arm was now in a cast, and he didn't want to bother the injury unnecessarily. "We'll be home soon, and there will be absolutely no adventure whatsoever for the next several days at least." He crossed a little 'x' over his heart for good measure. -- She supposed she was lucky that six weeks in a cast and a manageable-at-home concussion was all she had suffered. The minor cuts and the bruising would fade, and she was looking at no permanent damage, perhaps aside from her car. Embry gave a small, happy hum and playfully teased, "You know just what a girl wants to hear." Embry liked being out and about, really, but this had been more than enough excitement to last her the week. She was lucky, probably, that she'd been able to briefly call her family while in transit to the hospital to let them know what had happened, and that they had been willing to stay put because she was able to talk to them herself. That had still been emotionally draining, though, "We both deserve some uneventful rest after all of this." -- He'd pulled out of the parking lot, and was back on the road toward home- a short drive, on well-lit streets. Though her words were teasing, Gideon offered a few of the same right back. "See, that's a bonus of being engaged to an old introvert. I'm totally fine just staying home and being as non-adventurous as you'd like." -- Embry rolled her eyes a little because thirty-six wasn’t old at all in her book, “We should have a movie marathon. Set up on our big comfy couch and order food in. Maybe we’ll even leave the door unlocked and pay them an extra tip just to walk it over to the couch,” Embry was mostly joking with that last bit, but the idea was tempting. Even still, she did just want to have a quiet couple of days, even though she didn’t think he’d be home with her the whole time. He wasn’t injured, even if their scheduling did generally put them with more days off than the average person, just by way of the long shifts they worked. -- "That honestly sounds pretty amazing, Em." And it would have, really, even if she hadn't been recently injured. Gideon reached over and gently brushed his fingers to hers, just for a brief contact. "Even if they won't bring it inside, I'm pretty sure I can be the one to sacrifice my good and comfy sofa spot to ensure we get sustenance." -- "I think I can briefly give you up as my lap pillow for that," she told him seriously, as they both knew she watched movies in a prime position for him to play with her hair most of the time. Embry knew that something such as that wasn't exactly an uncommon thing for them to do anyway. She smiled, and just gently brushed his fingers back, not wanting to try to grip with that bad arm just yet, "I know tonight was pretty stressful for both of us. So, I just want tomorrow to be extra relaxing." -- "Just briefly, though. We won't ask you to make any major sacrifices during your convalescence." He wouldn't deny that the night had been stressful, no, but Gideon still didn't want Embry to place any of the blame of that stress on herself. It was something that had happened, and they'd dealt with it. "It will be, Em. We'll be the laziest, most relaxed couple in Dunhaven." -- "It's very thoughtful of you," she assured him sagely, relieved that they were actually almost home for the night. She smiled over at him, and felt her heart at ease. This certainly would have been a lonely, much more frightening sort of night if she didn't have him in her life, "I didn't need an excuse to spend a day like that with you, but I might as well milk it." -- "Oh, by all means. You should absolutely be milking this for all its worth, Em. If our positions were swapped, I'd be in the fetal position and weeping, without question." He pressed the button on the garage door opener that stayed permanently affixed to his visor, then pulled in to park. Gideon didn't have anything else in the car that needed to come inside that night, but he did a quick jog around to Embry's door so he could- if not open it on time, at least offer her a hand to walk inside. -- She gave a small laugh when he said he would be entirely incapacitated in her position, and then smirked a little, "Then I guess it's a good thing that I'm the one built for having babies." She gave a wink as he parked the car, though she thought he was tougher than he gave himself credit for. Embry mostly stayed put as Gideon got out of the car. She had pulled the door handle - with her good hand - but let him actually pull the door open wide enough for her to get out, and then help her out of the vehicle. She gave his fingers a squeeze, but didn't let go, "I want to set an alarm so I wake up to keep my Tylenol dose current, but other than that, I'm definitely ready to crawl into bed and be held." -- "Definitely," Gideon nodded, sagely. He'd never argue that point- women were infinitely stronger than men. He had no doubt. It seemed a sensible plan, all things considered. Gideon kept hold of Embry's hand as they walked inside, even as they made their way to the stairs. "If you need anything other than Tylenol- food, et cetera- wake me up for it, okay, Em?" -- They had Tylenol in the master bathroom upstairs, so it seemed pointless to stop by the kitchen. She would fill her water cup in the bathroom, and keep it at a safe place on the bedside table where she would hopefully not knock it over in the middle of the night. "I will. I'm going to try to keep anything I might want right by the bed anyway, but I promise I won't go scrambling for things myself," she mimicked his earlier motion and crossed her heart, a small smile on her lips. He loved her and wanted to make sure she had what she needed. While she was an independent person, she wouldn't stomp on his desire to help her in what ways he could. -- If he hadn't been around, well, she could manage it all well enough on her own. But she shouldn't have to, was just Gideon's thinking. Once in their bedroom, he offered her what was (he hoped) an encouraging smile. "Sleeping clothes preference?" -- She returned his smile, even as she stepped towards the bathroom, "One of your shirts and knickers." She wanted something unrestricted, and easy on her bruises. Embry stepped into the bathroom then to grab the Tylenol and brush her teeth and her hair. Thankfully, neither was particularly challenging given the fact that her dominant hand was still functional. When she stepped back out of the bathroom she had the water in her good hand, and the pill case where she'd portioned out individual doses of Tylenol was gingerly pinched in her left hand. It would help her keep track, ultimately. Embry...hadn't actually viewed the bruises for herself yet, but she could feel them. Maybe she was delaying a little, not wanting to unsettle Gideon with them either, though that was probably silly, given that he was bound to see them eventually. -- Gideon had changed into his own sleep clothes- Boston sweatpants and a tank top- while Embry was in the bathroom. (He'd brushed his teeth earlier in the evening, not having expected to leave the house again.) He'd also retrieved the requested items for her- a shirt bearing his old fraternity letters, and a clean (and not specifically sexy) pair of knickers. "Do you want help changing?" -- Embry set that pill case and cup of water there on the nightstand on her side of the bed, and gave a slow nod at his question. He put the choice in her hands, but truth be told, Embry didn't know how easily she'd be able to do it on her own. No, the cast wasn't that cumbersome, but the soreness was really starting to settle in from the bruising. Her normal free movements were going to be slower and stiffer. Not wanting to leave it just at that nonverbal agreement, Embry added, "I think I need help. My chest is pretty sore." Her scrubs had remained on all this time, and her top was semi-fitted, the fabric didn't have much give. -- Though he had undressed her, by now, countless times, this was naturally much different. All the same, Gideon approached his new task with a care and reverence reserved solely for Embry. He started with her scrub top, easing it up from the waist and guiding her good arm and head free of it first before letting it fall off the arm with her cast. True to earlier suspicions, she was fairly well bruised, but Gideon said nothing to draw any attention there. She'd know and see and feel well enough on her own. Instead, he just stepped around her to unfasten her bra. -- She could see that angry discoloration the moment that her top came off. She gave a mild wince just at the sight of it, and a soft sigh followed, "Well, no one can say that I wasn't wearing a seat belt." The pressure of those marks just proved how important it had been that she was wearing that safety restraint in the first place. He unfastened that bra, and it was a relief to her back to have it off. Then, they carefully reversed the process, putting on the shirt he'd chosen for her to sleep in a little at a time. Thankfully, the bottoms would be quick work anyway because her legs were fine, she would just need help with balance and not having to fully bend over. -- "And I'm very glad that you were." Because those bruises could have been something infinitely worse, and Gideon couldn't, wouldn't stop to consider that. Gideon unfastened Embry's scrub bottoms, helping to shimmy them off her hips, and then offered his hands out for balance so she could step out of them, one foot at a time. -- "I try to take what precautions I can," she assured him, though she was sure that he knew that anyway. She pretty much always wore her seat belt, even during slow, safe drives about town. Embry held onto Gideon's hands as she stepped out of the scrub pants. It was just as easy when he helped her repeat that process to change into clean knickers, and within just a few minutes, she'd accomplished getting completely changed, "That wasn't too bad, and it should get easier after a few days." Tomorrow would…probably be worse after it all had time to settle in, but that's why she wanted an extra lazy day. -- After he'd gathered up her clothes and tossed them into the hamper, Gideon stepped back to their bed. He knew that Embry didn't need help getting into it, of course, but he still pulled back the blankets on her side before crossing over to his and sliding in as usual. "We can take all the time we need, Em. There's no rushing a natural healing process." And she knew that, of course, likely better than most. Still. He didn't want to put any pressure on her. -- Embry sat back onto the bed and then turned to bring her feet up. While she normally might have turned onto her left side so that they could spoon together, she turned instead onto her right side as she reached to tug the covers up a little with her casted hand. It took her just a few moments to tuck herself in close to him, breathing in deeply. "I know. I'm going to try to be patient with myself," she promised, as he knew as well as anyone that Embry didn't like waiting and…maybe she could sometimes be her own worst critic, too. -- Doctors- or, well, doctors-to-be, in her case- almost always made the worst patients. Gideon would be patient for her, especially when he knew how difficult it would be for her, otherwise. It didn't occur to him until Embry had laid down that their typical spooning position would be compromised by her cast. Though Gideon had easily curled up with her, a hand on her waist as she tucked herself in closer, he couldn't help but offer, "We can switch sides, you know. If that helps." -- Embry would never be a medical doctor, but she was a medical professional regardless, and they were some of the least likely to be kind to themselves when sick or hurt. It was much easier to tell a patient their medical advice than it was to accept it themselves. She still probably could have rested on her left side without too much issue because the cast stopped just before her elbow, but she didn’t want to put too much pressure there. She was also being mindful, however, of the bruising across her chest, hip, and shoulder. Embry tipped her head up to brush just a gentle kiss against his jaw, “This is good. Promise. It might actually be better this way. Your arm will be against my hip and my back instead of my chest.” She paused just a second and promised, “Once I’m a little more healed up, spooning will commence immediately.” -- "At your pace, on your time, Em," Gideon insisted. He wouldn't rush whatever time she felt she needed, or was deemed to be required, for her healing. Though, at least, to his credit, he didn't offer to sleep elsewhere, knowing that the loss of physical touch would only make her miserable, in the end. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm here for whatever you need. Wake me up for anything more concerning than a hangnail, please." -- If Gideon had even so much as suggested that he slept on the couch, Embry would have asked him if he would like her to squeeze in next to the back cushions, or on the edge with the ottoman. There was no way that she wanted to be parted from him right now. She wanted - needed - that contact, especially after both the physical and mental trials of tonight. She gave a yawn and nodded just a little, “I will. When my alarm goes off at three, it’s for the Tylenol.” She hoped she actually paid attention to it rather than just attempting to turn off the alarm and ignoring it. She thought she’d remember. -- Gideon was at least accustomed to little alarms and beeps and notifications and other digital attention-getting things. Three AM or not, he'd hear it, and he'd be sure she got her medicine. "I'll see you at three, then." |