From the Sidelines. [Narrative]
Heidi stayed with Nathan until they'd reached the doors to the OR hallway, holding his hand as they wheeled him along on the stretcher. When they finally parted, and the double doors swung shut, she took off running towards the hallway the nurses had mapped out for her ahead of time, dodging wheelchairs that the sight of made her flinch, and barrelling up the stairs that lead to the observation room from which they were allowed to observe the procedure. They'd arrived already, but hadn't finished prepping the anesthetia.
She'd swiped one of the large envelopes used to store x-rays on her way up, and taking a sharpie pen from her purse, stashed there for this purpose, quickly scrawled a message on the blank back in large, bold letters, and held it up to the window. It was one of those irreverent, silly inside jokes that they'd accumulated over the years, and she gave the window a good, sound rap to get Nathan's attention. She couldn't hear the laugh, but she could certainly see it, and from the way Peter had ducked his mouth behind his hand to muffle a snicker, it was probably sounded something suspiciously like a giggle.
Before they knew it, the doctors were threading a tube through Nathan's mouth, and Heidi's hand was pressed so hard against the glass it had gone white. Peter took it down when they started the incision, worried that she might put her hand through it.
Angela was there, but Heidi barely registered her existance. She did her best to keep her own worry under control, not wanting the emotion to bleed over and compound Peter's, even going so far as to joke that Nathan would be dissapointed to know he wasn't as handsome on the inside as out. Then she lapsed into silence, afraid that opening her mouth would lead to her screaming or vomiting, or worse. She held onto Peter's hand the entire time, squeezing it every now and then, because she knew he needed it every bit as much as she did; and possibly more.
When, for a minute, Nathan's heartbeat had struggled to remain even, the fear had been palpable. She felt a tiny swell of static from Peter's hand, though she was gripping it so hard she couldn't feel anything else, and worried that one of them might break the other's hand before the surgeon turned his head up towards them and gestured that his heart had taken care of itself. They both nearly collapsed against the back of their chairs, and Heidi silently cheered Nathan on in her head.
She didn't stop until well after the last stitch was in place.