#jed bishop

Claire stays frozen, feeling her heart rate climbing under her sternum. "Well, that explains where he's been. Need me to convince him to sit down and get patched up?" Not that she's had much luck with that tonight, but she and Jed have an understanding. Making him hold still for sterilization and bandages is fine. It's easy. It gives her brain a plan instead of a worst case scenario.

"No, Claire, Dr. Curtis just hauled him up to the neuro team in the OR."

She bites the inside of her cheek, hard. She can't see Atwater, and Wendy can't see her; neither of them have moved from their tight position in the corner of the hallway as the rest of the chaos rushes past. "And? How bad is it?"

"EMS says they found him with a fucking hole in his skull," Wendy answers, her voice full of disbelief. "To decrease ICP, probably, but who could do that in the field-- I don't fucking know."

"Head trauma, probably had to include a fractured skull, the probability of brain damage is..." Claire shakes her head when the textbook answers are replaced by visions of Jed in those situations. "I'll go notify his emergency contact."

"Yeah, that would be you."

She's already stepping away, so she can't resist turning back to frown at her friend. "Still? No."

Wendy ticks off the possibilities on her fingers. "Psycho ex-wife, teenage son, ex-girlfriend who happens to work in the ER. Who would you pick?"

"Well." Claire stares down at the scuffed tile under her sneakers. "Keep me updated, then. I'll try to come see him if he makes it through surgery."

"Or if," Atwater says under her breath, evidently only half-listening.

"That's what I said." Claire looks her friend in the eye only briefly. "He's here now. I've got more lives to save."

Her patients don't listen, and she picks a fight with a random cop, and the whole ED is a mess. Somehow, though, Claire doesn't mind. The longer she goes without having to face the reality of Jed's condition, the better...