~ Three Months Later

Michael.
Encino, California
08:23

"Master Michael, it's time for breakfast with your mother!"

I groan while rolling in the bed. The comfort of sleep has been astronomical these past weeks as I've never gotten so much relaxation in a long time. Eliezer's voice rings again, "Master Michael!"

I mumble against the satin pillow, "I'm getting up. I'm getting up. Tell Mother I will be down soon."

"Of course."

Eliezer's footsteps started to pat against the mahogany floors of my bedroom before escorting himself out. Once he was out of my room, I shoved a pillow over my head in hopes of falling asleep again.

Eliezer was our butler that was from Nigeria. He's been our butler for more than thirty years and our relationship seems to contain more than the average employer-to-employee.

He was more than a friend and more of a father towards me.

Memories with my father seemed blurred as there wasn't one I remembered. He was always too busy or too headstrong to be the average father. The one who checks your closet to make sure no monsters were there or the one who took you to the average baseball game. Mother, on the other hand, was loving and supportive, but she was just as busy with keeping the finances in the family. Making sure me and my sisters were at the derby, trying to find perfect mates for us to continue our wealth.

That was the price of wealth. It steals your childhood, your parents, and leaves you with a drop of intellectual motivation to become a better form than what they were.

As a child, Eliezer was my friend. The one who would play fetch, allowed me to sneak a girl here every now or then, and in every way possible, would risk his life for me and my protection.

Although, after one traumatic accident, my father found out and fired Eliezer and sent me to boarding school.

After boarding school, with a little bit of tussling, I was able to reach Eliezer and rehire him under my name and made sure he had space here so he could live here to care for my mother while I was gone to medical school. I knew deep down it angered my father as he wished for me to join the military.

I knew he was jealous, but his tyranny was his downfall.

He hated knowing in every aspect of his life, I was the better reflection of him. I didn't use my self-indulgence to belittle others.

My thoughts were interrupted by the hollow, sharp knocks against the door. "Master Michael!" Eliezer chimed. I slide out of bed before answering, "Come in." He obeys my command and opens the door, walking in with a pile of clothes folded. I take the pile from his arms as he explains, "Your mother wants you to wear this."

I shake my head, "Tell my mother I'm skipping breakfast. I think I had enough coddling from her. I'm going back to Chicago." Eliezer asks, "Is something the matter, sir?" I smile widely, "No, no. It was good, being here with you and mother, but I can't stay here forever."

He smiles gently at me, "Are you going on another trip to see Madame Lisa?" I set the pile of clothes on the bed before turning back to him, resting my hand on his shoulder, "No, I'm not. Please, continue to care for my mother."

"Anything for you, Master Michael."

My arms wrapped around the old man as I embraced him in a warm, heartfelt hug. I sigh effortlessly before mumbling, "I told you for years you don't have to keep calling me that." He mumbles, "You try so hard for me to simply abandon old formalities, sir. I hope to see you again. This time much sooner." We release from the hug as I nod, "Yeah, I hope so, too. Now, can you go tell Mother my wishes?" He nods his head before leaving my room as I walk over to the chiseled, white marble dresser.

Guilty to say, I didn't like to think about the sudden visits to see Lisa from time to time. Thinking about how we would get to talking about our life changes at one point then naked and having meaningless sex in the kitchen and the bedroom in the next. How it seemed to be enjoyable at the moment yet the thought didn't seem to give me aspiration or satisfaction. Thinking about how I would wake up in the middle of the night after those hours of shameful sex and catch the next plane back here. I was in a cycle of no escape as I didn't seem to be moving on with my own life.

No more.

Being here in California brought tranquility, peace of mind. It seemed like a fever dream the first couple of nights here, but now, it all seemed like a memory.

It was time to move on.

Cleo.
Suture Room.
10:23

"Now, you know, candy is the world-time selling agent. You sell candy with a message and anyone could buy anything you desire! It's a marketing game!"

I sigh annoyingly as I continue to suture the wound, yet Mr.Handler kept yapping his mouth while moving, "Please stay still, Mr. Handler. I cannot suture if you keep fidgeting!"

He grunts angrily at my tone, "You've been doing this for a while! You sure you know what you're doing!" I set my tools down before removing my gloves, "How about we just take a break? I'll be back."

I stand up from the stool and walk out of the room as he screams, "HEY YOU! GET BACK HERE!"

I ignored him before walking to the board and stared at the many patients we had left to see. Unfortunately, I was on surgical consults in the ER, while Rose got to go play operation in the ER with Dr. Kingston. These past weeks have been draining, tiresome, and in a way, I only ran off of a cup of coffee.

She was tough, and I mean boot camp tough.

I rested my head on my forehead for a moment as a voice emits, "You look like hell." My eyes looked up to see Dante holding a cup of coffee towards me. I take the cup before answering, "I've been on for 32 hours. I'm covering for someone. I knew this was rough, but I think this is overkill." He looks at me sympathetically before sighing, "I hate seeing how this place will drain the youth out of you."

I roll my eyes before smiling subtly, "Very funny. Did you just get on?" He nods, "Yup, I'm on for a little while." I sigh before grabbing a handful of charts, "Have you heard from Michael?"

"He's doing fine. He enjoys the time he's spending with his mother."

I inhale slowly, "Is he ever going to come back? He's been gone for a long time...I don't think any of us was expecting this long of a break." I watched as Dante licks his lips, "I don't know, Cleo. Anyways, I got to go. There's a trauma coming." Once he walked away, I look down at the first chart in the pile in my arm.

"Hunter Direo. 32 years old. Coughing up blood. Possible TB."

I sigh depressingly as it was already June and the ER was hot due to a broken thermostat. The plethora of fans placed around the area was just circulating hot air in the room as the ambulance bay's rooms remained open to allow the cool breeze to come in.

My eyes were just begging for a moment of rest from this agony as I allow them to close for a moment as I dreamed of myself laying on a nice Tempur-Pedic mattress out in the Bahamas.

"Cleo! Cleo!"

I look over to see Dante calling me as the paramedics pull in a severe trauma patient.

"Dancy Popkins. 24 years old. Fell from a ladder with a minor laceration to the head."

Once we made it to the trauma room, the group of nurses reached over to grab a piece of sheet to lift the patient from the gurney to the table. Dante yells, "Okay on the count of three, we move. One! Two! Three!"

I gaze up at the patient as Dante smiles, "You want to do the rundown." I chuckle, "Sure, alright...Mr. Popkins?" Alright, How are you doing, sir?" He answered with a muffled mumble. I examined his eye's dilation with my light, "Equal and reactive. How many fingers am I holding, Mr. Popkins?"

"3 fingers..."

"Order me a CT scan, MRI, CBC type, cross and match! I need 10 mg of Morphine."

Mr. Popkins struggled as he murmurs, "I can't move my hand." I frown for a moment as I place my finger in his weak grasp, "Squeeze my finger, please." He groans, "I AM!" I watched as he wasn't squeezing my finger at all.

Dante frowns suspiciously as he gently rolls Mr. Popkins over, "Cleo...he's bleeding on his back." I frown as I walk over to see what Dante was seeing as he grabs a needle and pricks Mr. Popkins' back, "Do you feel this?"

"No."

"What about here?"

"No."

"Her—"

"OW!"

Dante mumbles, "It could be the Quellin, Mr. Popkins, you could have slight paralysis from the fall, but it's too soon to evaluate that. Let's get him to CT now!" I watched as the nurses escort Mr.Popkins down the hallway before sliding the latex gloves from my hands.

12:21

"Cranial composure from blunt trauma can show a massive hemorrhage anteriorly and laterally from the sphenoid bone. The jugular vein can...."

I continue to scribble notes into my notebook from the videotape recording I was watching on head traumas. When I was off from ER consults, I confide in my room where it was time to study procedures. Rose was working in the OR as she continued her anesthesiology rotation for surgery, which mean more alone time in the apartment space to study for future procedures.

Knock knock knock!

I yelled out, "I'm coming!" I slid from the chair at my desk and walk to the door, opening it, to be surprised by a familiar face. Michael smiles softly, "Hey, am I bothering you?" I teased, "Yeah, two hours of catching up on head traumas. It's so good to see you. You look better than the last time I saw you." He chuckles lightly, "I guess you can say I caught up on sleep, uh, can I come in?"

I took a step back while opening the door wider for him to walk in.

Once he walked in, I closed the door behind me as he sat on the mini couch in the room. I tried my best to tidy up the magazines on the couch table as I stammer embarrassingly, "I'm sorry about the mess..."

He laughs, "It's fine. My house was 10x messier."

"Would you like something to drink?" I asked.

"Can I have some water? I'm parched. The jet lag got to me."

I walk to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water before walking back to Michael and handing it to him. He smiles before turning the cap, "Thanks. I can tell you have grown in knowledge. You see different. More mature, more confident." I sat on the couch beside him before smiling widely, "Well, many nights on-call can do that to you. How was your break?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, "It was nice. I spent some time with my mother. You know, I haven't seen her in six months until now." I watched as Michael looked away disappointingly. It seemed as though he still had things on his mind or he was thinking about his absence from his mother.

Who knew he was such a mommy's boy.

I tried to change the subject as I asked, "How are you and Lisa?" He turns back to me before smiling, but instantly I knew it was a superficial smile.

"She's doing great in Milwaukee. I actually visited her a couple of times and eh...they were very good visits. She seems happier. I don't want to pry too much about it. Tell me about your triumphs."

I lick my lips before grinning excitedly, "I may have saved a patient with a brain-induced trauma using bypass surgery." His eyes widen in disbelief, "Are you kidding me?! And I missed that? God!" I laugh enthusiastically, "It was gutsy, but we did it! I wish you were there."

Those familiar pair of warm, mahoganies stared into mine for a moment as Michael gave me a subtle smile.

"It's really good to see you again. I was thinking about you, while I was gone, and what you said."

To avoid eye contact, I looked down at my hands as I knew my cheeks were heating up. My own words caused him to think about me? It was astronomical in itself that he was finally back, but to be back in his presence felt unique, unbounded in itself that he seemed to prone to find comfort in conversing with me.

Before he could continue, my pager went off.

I gazed down at it as Michael sighs, "I guess it will have to wait. What is it?" My body rotates on the couch towards the nightstand, where the phone sat. I dialed the number on the pager before mouthing to Michael, "OR." I hang up the phone before getting off the couch and walking to the door. He followed as well, "Let me come."

"But you just came from the airport, you need to rest."

"I've been resting long enough. C'mon."

13:07

"Scalpel? Already gently alongside the inguinal region."

I slid the scalpel gracefully against the pregnant woman's belly as Michael nods in satisfaction.

Yes, I was performing my first Caesarian section. 

The mother was involved in a heavy collision accident that resulted in her going into labor. Her husband was standing beside her, holding her hand as he watched us. The OB/GYN on call, Dr. Tracee, watched as Michael slowed pulled on the layers of skin back as he mutters, "Cut here...yes, gently. Alright, here we go. I'm going to pull him out." I sat the scalpel down as I grab gauze to dry the bleeding a bit as Michael slowly pulls the baby from the mother's womb. The pediatrician cut the umbilical cord with a stork before carrying the unusually quiet baby to the weighting area.

"Why my baby isn't crying! He's blue! What's wrong!" The mother panicked.

We delivered the placenta next. I looked at her as Michael and I started to work on the restoration process of stitching everything back. "It's normal if a baby doesn't cry, just give it a moment," I reassured her. Michael glanced at me as his hands went to work with suturing the uterus while I continued to gauze out the blood.

Momentarily, the baby started to cry, which gave the mother relief that her baby was okay.

Dr. Tracce watched as Michael sutured as the headlight from the table was causing him to sweat. "Cleo, I see more gauze here..." he answers dryly. Shirley was dabbing his forehead with a napkin as the mother's womb was abruptly bleeding.

"Give me two more units of blood, fast drip."

I continue to dab as Michael grumbles at the ongoing blood.

Where was it coming from??

I frown at the area we were working at as I looked around the area. Was a vein accidentally punctured? He looked around the area as well before mumbling, "If I can't get her uterus to stop bleeding I will have to do a hysterectomy." The mother was breathing slowly before mumbling, "Please don't..." Michael sighs, "I won't have a choice if I can't stop the bleeding. I can't let you die. Give me two more units. Let me try to tie it off." I walked around the table to where Michael was standing as I whisper, "Wait, it's right here. I move his hand over to where the punctured area was." His head turned to me before whispering back, "Not bad."

I could tell he was smiling behind his mask as he started to suture the uterus again before the superficial layers of skin.

Once we were done, the mother gazed at us weakly as I frown, "Michael...something isn't right." He looked at me as I shake the mother gently, "Hey, hey! What's her name?" Her husband replied, "Claudia Wright?! What's going on?! Why isn't she up?" I rub against her sternum rapidly, trying to insert some pain for a reaction, "Claudia!" She wasn't responding as her blood pressure was going down, "She's braying!"

Michael mutters a quick "fuck," as I pull the defibrillator, turning it on.

"Charge to 200! Clear!"

No response.

"Charge to 250! Clear!"

Her husband yelled at me and Michael, "You better save my goddamn wife!"

Claudia mumbles subtly as Michael yells out, "Give me 15 mg of Morphine." Dr. Tracee yells out, "Dr. Jackson, what are you doing!" as Michael grabs a scapula and makes a quick yet small incision laterally against Claudia's body.

"I'm trying to find the source of the issue! She has a possible blood clo—"

Before he could finish, her blood leaked onto the floor as he quickly sets up a chest tube as I helped with suturing. Once we have done that, Claudia's body pressure slightly rose, but not much. She was still at a dangerously low level.

I sigh exhaustedly as her husband grunts angrily, "You idiots don't know what you're doing huh? My wife was perfectly fine until you started cutting on her!" His angst towards us didn't help as Michael was still searching for the source of the issue.

"I think I know what it is," he responded calmly.

"YOU THINK? YOU THINK? THIS IS MY WIFE HERE, ASSHOLE? SAVE HER."

We didn't have much time and one wrong move could ruin this. DIDNT help that we had Mr. "Bitch-At-Doctors-Who-Are-Doing-Their-Best" in our asses.

Michael exhales slowly as he makes another incision alongside Claudia's chest before opening her up to see her heart. I watched quietly as he mutters, "I knew it. Cleo, PE."

PE or "Pulmonary Embolism" was a fancy term for a blood clot in the lungs.

He requested for a catheter as he looks over to me, "How about you come to do it." He hands the catheter to me as his husband grunts, "I don't want some medical student bitch operating on my wife!"

Michael shakes his head before answering calmly, "This is a teaching hospital and Cleo isn't a "medical student" nor a "bitch" she's an intern." I gulp nervously before handing the catheter back to him, "Maybe next time..."

He looks at me for a moment before inserting the catheter, which helped raised Claudia's blood pressure name to normal. I sigh in relief as Michael requests, "She's fine now, take her to recovery."

Her husband sighs in relief, "The baby?"

"In the NICU, he should be fine as well," Michael responded in his normal, calm voice.

The nurses pushed Claudia into recovery, and her husband followed, leaving me and Michael alone in the OR. We both slid our gloves and masks off as I sigh in exasperation, "How do you manage to stay so calm?"

"Takes practice. You did...amazing isn't the word, hm..phenomenal? No...there's more than even that for your skill."

I smile embarrassingly before looking away shyly, "Stop it. I'm just happy that little boy has his mother." He chimes in, "Of course, just next time, when I ask you to do a procedure do it. Don't let the family members intimidate you to think you can't do it. You're a doctor, act like it." My eyes looked back into his before sighing, "I was scared Michael, not because of the procedure but because what if I messed up. What if I was the reason that baby didn't have a mother..."

His expression softens as I look away once more, trying my best to hide my tears with my estranged relationship with my "mother." God knew I wished my mother had the same energy and love Claudia had for her own when she saw him, frail and weak. Her heart clung to the idea of her child first over her own life.

Whereas, my mother treated me like a burden or a regret.

My thoughts were distracted by the fact that Michael's gentle fingers were under my chin to lift my head so his eyes could look back into mine. Just to be in his gaze was more than an honor, but a privilege that he seemed to see some interest in me. My breath was hitched as his face came close to mine.

"Under my supervision, you will never need to look at yourself as a failure, you hear me? Even now, I find myself learning things from you...how is that? What is this hidden skill that you possess?"

At this point, my own body was heated from our newly developed intimacy as his thumb pressed against my bottom lip in such a sly, seductive manner. The more I stared at him, the more I realize that he has changed as well during his departure.

He seemed to have a new level of confidence not only in his skills but in what he wanted.

I mumble out, "I don't know what you speak of, but as I look I could sense it's something more you want to figure out and decipher." His lips molded themselves to a small smirk before whispering, "Wise answer." My breath was compressed as his thumb moved from my lips to be replaced with his own lips.

My body tingled with sensation as our lips were just brushed together like butter on bread. They were warm and somehow knew how to move alongside mine to create an offspring of collective pleasure. His hands found a place on my waist while mine shaped around his face, feeling his gentle stubble along his jawline.

What was this feeling he gave me?

Eventually, his head moved from mine as he mutters, "That's what I was thinking about when I was gone." My head rested on his chest before whispering bashfully, "Kissing me?"

"No, moving on with my life. Kissing you seem to be a bonus for today. Maybe it's the jet lag and the blood getting to me."

I let out a small chuckle before lifting my head to look up at him. Our moment seemed to dissipate from passion to awkwardness as he frowns, "Uh, I need to go handle some things...." I scratch the back of my head before smiling nervously, "Haha, same here. Lemme go check on this patient!" He smiles back at me bashfully as I walk out of the OR before releasing a heavy sigh.

Oh my God.

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A/N: It was bound to happen eventually. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Anyways, thank you guys for your added support with this story! Happy reading!