in another universe where things are less complicated, this would be something far more lighthearted and not nearly as risky. helen feels herself merely going through the motions while she can, trying to refuse the urge to claw at her own skin, which suddenly feels too hot and too foreign. she is put into more comfortable clothes but they bring little comfort at all other than serve to make her more hot. she's taped up with monitors, a needle in her arm, and helen feels like a stranger in her own infirmary as she's treated as a patient. she has no control to give orders - she must trust in her staff, in nick. of course she can add her opinion, but judging by the face of the leader of her medical team, nicole, helen assumes she's reached the same conclusions.
"i don't like those numbers at all." helen remarks, briefly glancing at the device now monitoring her heart and blood pressure, as well as that of her son's. the combination of numbers is nearing dangerous and so far there is little reasoning as to why.
ashley nods once at nick at the touch to her shoulder. she trusts him. trusts the teams to take care of her mom. but that doesn't mean she still isn't worried. at least meeting her grandfather will serve as a distraction; she is of little use here. "keep me updated." is her only request to nick before she teleports away.
focused on the preliminary reports she's taken from one of the staff, helen looks at her own information as detached as possible. that bias is there again - how can she make calls when she's in this state. the pain is starting to cloud her mind, searing across every inch of her torso. ashley's arrival had been a piece of cake comparatively.
one of the nurses tells her to breathe and helen very nearly wants to snap her head right off her shoulders in a flare of irritation that immediately spikes her numbers back up into the dangerous level. the words on the report she holds are starting to blur together, the world starting to spin again even as nick's voice comes across her mind like a gentle balm. she cannot muster the energy to respond at that moment, too focused on trying to keep her calm in the sea of panic that keeps welling in the back of her throat.
"hemmoraging." helen manages between gritted teeth. the pain isn't stopping and is, in fact, only getting worse. dizzyingly so. "my hemoglobin . . . is too low. i'm losing blood internally. . . ." another hitch of her breath and for the first time, her vision starts to waver at the edges. her voice is stuttered as she drags in air - she feels as though she's suffocating. it feels too swift, everything progressing far too quickly that she can barely wrap her mind around what's happening. "placental abruption - he has - to come out. now."
nick. even her internal voice sounds worried, gaze finding his across the room despite the activity. and then and sudden calmness envelopes her - either her own doing, or whatever they've just introduced to her iv. a brief moment of sharp clarity. the rest of the room sounds vaguely underwater, nicole giving orders to the rest of the team as helen fights with every inch she has in her to stay conscious.
it's not a sudden realization, but a painful admission. it's a complication she'd anticipated, but had been on her list of worst case - the universe is unkind to put this upon them. she thinks of ashley and henry and ramon, of kate and will, her father - of nick, who's gaze she still holds with what energy she can maintain. instinctively she reaches for him, distantly aware the machine she's attached to is giving a warning; her blood pressure is dropping swiftly even despite the sudden rush of warmth that washes over her ---
she cannot hold out the battle against her own body, it's distress and that of the baby's. nick. his name is like an echo as her mind fight her body's weaknesses, desperate to cling to consciousness but everything is rushing into darkness quickly. there are a million things she wants to say, should say, but her mouth refuses to cooperate and she is vaguely aware of nicole yelling something to the rest of the team as the same darkness rushes up to meet her.
"somebody get him scrubs." nicole is already moving swiftly, ordering about her team. "prep for surgery."