Saving Grace

And so they're falling...

That night Max tossed and turned more than he cared to admit. His brief moments of sleep were not sound and always interrupted by his racing thoughts. He welcomed the sun and rose from his bed like a brainless zombie, only being brainless would have been preferable to him at that very moment.

If he were brainless he wouldn't have to think.

He wouldn't have to deal with all his anxiety driven questions making him wonder what was wrong with him, what was wrong with her, what could possibly have happened to make her ignore his calls and ghost him on his grand chance to apologise for ghosting her.

Had she done that on purpose? Was that her way of giving him a taste of his own medicine?

She didn't seem like the vindictive type but then again his hopeful personality had made him misjudge a good number of people before in his life.

Consumed by his thoughts, his usual morning tango with depression went unnoticed. Instead he raced through his usual morning routine, even finding an appetite for an actual breakfast (something other than a cereal bar).

He's short walk to work went unnoticed. The usual chirping that kept him company fell onto deaf ears and the flowers that normally got a bright smile of admiration were sadly ignored. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done something wrong and that just didn't cut it with Max.

Before he knew it, he found himself in front of her office and to add fuel to the burning fire that was his anxiety, she wasn't in yet.

"If you're looking for Sharpe you might wanna try room 204." A passing nurse suggested.

"Room 204? Is she seeing a patient?" he asked though 204 was on the fifth level and that was generally where they kept temporary, non severe over-night patients. As far as he was aware Helen was head of oncology which meant her patients would most likely be on the seventh floor.

"Not seeing a patient. She is a patient."

Max's eyes widened in concern and he thought about her pregnancy.

Could something have happened?

He wondered as he thanked the nurse and headed towards the elevator. His previous sentiments regarding her grudge against him were silenced by his sudden worry for her and her babies well being. Perhaps it was because he knew how the loss of a child could affect a parent, it was a wound that seemed to never heal. A hole that could not be filled.

His past experiences allowed him to sympathize with her and simultaneously fed his panic. When he arrived at the room Sharpe was fast asleep. She looked peaceful, but drained.

A million scenarios ran through his mind and he prayed that the worst of them hadn't come true. That she simply had a small scare and that everything would be alright with both her and her baby. Curiosity drove him mad so he snuck back out of the room and went to find Dr Bloom for any details on who might have tended to Sharpe. He figured that as head of the ER she would most likely have the information he needed.

"Dr. Bloom." He approached and she looked up from her clipboard only long enough to identify the voice calling her name.

"May I help you?" she asked, more interested in the form she was filling out than in whatever it is that he had to say. She wasn't an unfriendly soul, he knew that from seeing her interact with her colleagues and her patients. She didn't, however, trust easily and Max guessed he was still under probation with her.

Another one I'll have to work on.

He thought, before he offered her a smile (that went unseen) and asked.