Chapter Fifteen

Dallas

Now

I got called in for a consult the next morning at work. It seemed the entire oncology department was not immune to the Black Friday sales or the inevitable turkey coma. I was happy to go in and felt well-rested despite staying up late. Looking forward to immersing myself into another case—but not forgetting about the ones I wasn't currently working—I spent my first twenty minutes passing out dry turkey sandwiches, which they thanked me for with huge smiles. It was the little things.

My consult was in OB, and I was shocked when I found out Dean was the one who paged me. I walked into his office with a smile and saw him behind his desk with a set of printed sonogram x-rays lit up behind him. I saw the issue immediately but greeted Dean first.

"Hi," I said with a smile.

"Hi, Dally." His voice alarmed me. I knew it couldn't be easy on him to have to go back and tell his patient they had cancer. I could almost guarantee this case was terminal.

Dean stood up and pulled me into his arms. I pulled away, curious.

"I'm sorry, was she a regular patient of yours? "

"A really good friend. Is it as bad as I think?"

I studied the chart and nodded. "It looks bad, Dean. It's improbable that this isn't malignant, and even with a hysterectomy and a full dose of the highest level, I can predict this has already spread well beyond the pelvic regions and throughout the lymph nodes. But I will try my best, I promise. I mean, there is no such thing as a lost cause. We can fight it hard. There are a lot of things we can try."

"Okay," he said carefully. "This patient asked for you specifically." I nodded. "Oh, Dean, is this Rita?"

"You might want to sit down, Dallas." Fear and panic swept through me as I felt sweat bead on my forehead. "Dean, don't make me wait—"

"It's Beatrice," he answered quickly as the axe swung and fully hit me in the chest. I jumped up quickly. "What room?"

"Dallas, take a minute to absorb, okay? She knows it's bad."

"I'm fine, Dean. What room."

"Four," he answered, following me out as I rushed to the door, my chest so tight I took only a deep breath before walking into the room.

Beatrice was sitting on the bed in a hospital gown, her arms folded. She greeted me with a smile and an immediate, "Oh shit, well, I wasn't sure until now. You really do have a terrible poker face."

I glared at Dean and then gathered myself quickly. "This isn't a conversation we had today, Dallas," Dean defended. I nodded and moved to her bedside. She was trying to hide her fear, but I could tell she was scared. I grabbed her hand and sat with her while Dean stood next to the bed.

"We have some tests to run, several. I'll be honest, it doesn't look good, but we are going to fight this hard. I need you to trust me and do exactly as I say, okay?" She nodded .

"Okay," she said quickly, squeezing my hand tightly. "I've lived a good life, baby, and if this is the way I get to go—"

"Don't, not yet. Let me see what we are dealing with here," I said quickly. I gave her a brief hug, and she held onto me tightly. I pulled away and kept a straight face, knowing that she needed me now more than ever.

"Is there anyone we can call?"

"No, baby," she said tightly. "Let's just get this done." I nodded and stood up. "I'm going to order the tests. I'll have you moved up to my floor."

She gave me a warm smile. I turned to Dean. "Give us a minute." He nodded and went to Beatrice and squeezed her hand. She looked up at him and winked. I could feel the heaviness in him as he walked out the door.

I watched his retreat and turned to her as soon as the door closed. "I'm so sorry for what I said last week. I wanted to apologize before now, and I need you to know that. I love you, Beatrice. You have been my rock. I think you know that, but I want you to know I will do everything I can."

"Baby, listen, I asked for you because I trust you, but I want you to promise me now that if I can't kick this, you won't blame yourself."

"I promise," I said sincerely.

"Go. Go find a way to fix me," she said, her chest heaving. I hesitated, knowing her levy was one drop short of breaking.

"I don't want you to be here when it happens." Sighing, I got up. "Go," she said more sternly. I watched her chest push and pull with emotion as I quickly walked out the door. I stood outside of it, listening to her sobs. No matter how strong your character is, when you have been sentenced the way she had, you find your strength in release and acceptance. Whether you came out ready to fight or fail, it happens to everyone, and Beatrice was not the type to accept any sort of pity. I cried with her outside that door and prayed silently before squaring my shoulders and looking for Dean. I found him in his office, leaning back and staring at his ceiling. When I appeared at his door, he stood quickly, walked over to me, and closed the door behind me.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, kissing my newly stained cheeks.

"I'm not giving up. I can't. I won't sentence her to death. This is so fucked up. I love her, Dean."

"I know," he murmured, planting small kisses all over my face. I let him kiss me and wrapped my arms around him. "I need you," I said urgently. His eyes lit up with recognition, and he didn't hesitate before moving his lips over mine. I let out a sigh as our tongues mingled, kissing him more urgently.

"Make it go away," I said as I broke away to slide my jacket off my arms. "Please, Dean."

I slipped my hands around his waist, grinding him into me, desperate for his touch. I reveled in the feel of him and reached for his pants zipper, but he stopped me.

"Dean, please."

"Baby, I'm sorry," he whispered as he lay his head on my shoulder for several minutes. "We can't do this, not like this. You're hurting, and you aren't thinking clearly."

I sighed heavily, knowing he was right. I was once again trying to mask my pain the wrong way.

"Let me take you home."

"Not a chance. I'm not leaving her, at least not today." He nodded as if he understood and then quickly asked his next question.

"Please tell me what I can do."

"She has a cat named Morris. He will need to be taken care of. I don't think she's thought about him. "

"I already have her keys," Dean said, pulling them from his pocket.

"Okay, thanks." I turned to leave, and he stopped me.

"Will you come to me when you leave here?"

"I don't know. I have a lot to do. It's going to be a rough couple of months," I offered quickly.

He stopped my movement with caressing hands on my shoulders. "So let me in. Let me be a part of it."

"Dean—"

"So, it's okay to run to me for a quick feel-better fuck but not for what you really need?"

"Damn it, can we not do this today!"

"Oh we are. Right here, right now." I pulled the door open, and he slammed it, turning me back to face him.