15/02/2001
Emergency Room, Newton Abbot Community Hospital, Devon
¬

[ d e a l p t . 1 ]

"KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN! THERE ARE MUGGLES HERE!"

George gaped and whisper-yelled, "What in Godric's holy name do you think you're doing?!"

Elinor sighed.

She knew.

She knew that George Weasley wasn't stupid, considering his legacy of brilliant pranks throughout his school years, so it wouldn't be hard for him to put the puzzle pieces together.

The 'accident' or 'cause of (cough, fake, cough) Amnesia' three years ago was actually the Battle of Hogwarts. The probable cause of her current SAH state would be the result of an unprofessional healer's handiwork, while the miraculous three years of survival suggested that the healer wasn't totally brainless.

"—going to let some Muggle doctor cut through your scalp, drill a hole in your skull, and pinch a leaking blood vessel in your freaking brain? Are you seriously considering that option?!"

"Then what am I supposed to do? Rot, let it rupture, and die?"

George groaned, running a finger through his hair, "No! Go to St. Mungo's! The healers can fix you up in no time without exposing your brain to polluted air!"

"I told you, I don't associate myself with your kind anymore. No wand, no magic, no healer," Elinor bitterly replied.

"Our kind," George corrected, "You're not dying of brain injury, you are dying of stupidity."

"Hey!"

"Listen. The healers may not did their work properly last time, but it does keep you alive for three years. We know great ones at St. Mungo's. They will save you with nearly 0% mortality rate."

"No."

"Elinor."

"Monsieur Weasley."

"Ellie."

"No!" Elinor whisper-yelled back, "I don't believe in magic anymore!"

"What do you mean you don't believe in magic?! You saw the flying knife yesterday!"

"I know it still exists, but I don't have any faith in magic. Not now, not in the future. So, if you could leave and pretend you don't know anything, I would be eternally grateful."

"Your eternity will end today if you're taking the surgery. I can't, on good conscience, walk away from this! I'm still a good person, okay?"

"No, not okay!"

"Give me some time to convince you, then! A few months—"

"Two minutes!" The curtain was thrown open in such a dramatic force that both Elinor and George unconsciously jerked on their spots. Cameron was the first to reenter their sight, saying, "He has an empty slot in two days. Is that okay? If you're okay, let's call Auntie Bielle."

The word 'okay' was already dangling on the tip of her tongue, but before she had the chance to say it, George spoke first.

"Marco, right? I'm George Weasley." He offered his hand.

Cameron scrutinized the redheaded boy from head to toe before accepting the handshake curtly, "Cameron Marco."

"So, you're like her big brother?"

"...You can say that."

"Do you want to see a picture of Ellie when she was younger?"

Elinor froze.

"You knew her? I thought you're—"

"I had a chance of knowing her in the past. She probably doesn't remember me... But, you know, maybe it can help if you want to look into her past, find her real family... Who knows, maybe they're expecting her return," George began digging into his pockets, "See, it's a moving picture."

Cameron raised his eyebrows, "Like a .gif? In your phone—"

"Cameron," Elinor tried to capture his attention and failed miserably.

"—you have a video of her?"

"No, no, it's on pape—"

"I DON'T WANT SURGERY!"

Her reaction was so abrupt and loud, Cameron and Dr. Karev whipped their heads in shock, completely forgetting about George's ramble earlier.

Elinor couldn't believe this.

She was dying, literally, at the age of twenty-one. With only one ex-boyfriend and six histories of dates.

But the desire to keep her secret safe beat her desire to live.

Life wasn't worth living if her deepest, darkest secret was spilled. The Rousseaus wouldn't be able to look at her the way they did. She would lose her family again.

Her eyes moved about the room, filled with frantic worries, and every time they shifted, it always ended up on George and his irritating smirk.

"One month—"

George cleared his throat. Elinor casted a side glance at him in annoyance and saw him holding three fingers up before scratching his cheek to mask his previous move.

"Three months. Give me three months to think about it," Elinor quickly corrected.

"But your internal wound is too extensive to wait another three months!" Dr. Handsome (Karev) exclaimed.

"I have survived three years. Three months would be nothing."

George interjected, "Why don't we all respect her decision..."

"You!" In a blur of movement, Cameron took a fistful of George's collar and slammed him against the wall. He had fallen from shock into the same level of fury Etienne experienced earlier. "You think you can waltz into our peaceful lives, wreck everything, then leave unscathed? What the hell did you say to her in two freaking minutes?!"

"Marco!" Elinor grabbed his arm, "He didn't say anything important. You heard the doctor, Cam, the mortality rate is high. I just want to live my life to the fullest for three months in case— in case I—"

Die.

It didn't feel real until she had to say it out loud.

She didn't want to die.

"Don't say it. It's one word I forbid," Cameron said in the same threatening intonation.

"Please..."

"Are you kidding me?!" Cameron released his hold and kneeled on Elinor's bedside instead, "Ellie... Ellie, this is not a joke. It's a matter of life and death here."

She knew that... and she didn't want to die. She didn't want to die.

Before she knew it, she was crying.

"Ellie, think about us. Ezme, Auntie Bielle, Uncle Etienne, and I will be devastated if you leave too soon. You're getting the bakery, remember? You have to be healthy if you want to get the Deli."

"I know," Elinor managed to say between sobs, "I don't— I don't want to die."

"Then what's stopping you from the surgery?"

Life wasn't worth living if her deepest, darkest secret was spilled.

"Just—" Elinor wiped the traces of her tears with the back of her hand, "Just three months. Please."

Cameron's eyes travelled from her to George, to Dr. Karev, then to her again, as the four people were engulfed in a very uncomfortable silence.

Finally, he sighed, "Fine. Three months and I will personally drag you onto the table."

"Can you... keep it a secret?"

"What?! From your family?"

Elinor nodded.

"Don't you think they deserve— You know what, forget it. As you wish."

"I'll prescribe anticonsulvant medications and something to alleviate your pains and headaches. Keep Ms. Rousseau out of stressful and heavy activities. This is a stupid, suicide move, by the way," Dr. Karev said, "You have to fill a Self-Discharge Against Medical Advice Form."

Soon, the two were left alone once again.

George looked at her sniffling figure and snorted jokingly, "In case I— I— I have to say, great acting skill."

"Sod off," Elinor hissed.

George realized now that her tears were real.

"Look. I don't know you at all, but I know you've been through so much to get to this point," his tone softened, "You're going to make it."

"You can't promise me that."

"I can, if you give me a chance to take you to St. Mungo's."

Elinor sniffed one last time and took a deep breath. "Trust me, in three months, I still won't go to St. Mungo's. I'll take the surgery here."

"Oh, I bet you, in three months, you will beg for me to buy you a wand," George said in a challenging tone.

"Tough luck."

"And we'll go to St. Mungo's."

"Oh my God," Elinor scoffed, "Stop betting on my life! Now give me that photograph. Is it a picture of me in Hogwarts? Where the hell did you get it anyway?"

"Oh, that."

"Give it to me, now!"

"I don't have it. Good bluffing, am I right?"

☆★☆

Justin Chambers as Dr. Alex Karev
(imagine Grey's Anatomy season 1)

A/N:
Specifically to those who watch Grey's Anatomy,
THE WAY JUSTIN CHAMBERS LEFT IS JUST...
MY HEART JUST CAN'T...