Anterograde

by Kallysten

  Shaking his head to clear his mind from childhood memories, he asks, “What does that mean, should the need arise?”

  Lana shrugs. “When Eli does what he swears he won’t and leaves, or when you two have enough of the city and want to get away. It’s not so much a contingency plan as preparing for the future. Because you do have a future, Calden.”

  “Of course I have a future,” Calden scoffs. “And the best part of it is that I don’t have to remember all the boring conversations you and I share. Not that I ever kept a record of them before.”

  Lana smiles and says nothing. It’s only moments before the car stops. Calden opens the door and steps out. He hasn’t been paying attention to the road, and he’s expecting to find himself in front of his house. Instead, he’s across the street from Lola’s, his favorite café. The customer sitting at the table by the window is all too easily recognizable. There’s a basket of bread in front of him, and two glasses of beer.

  Pulling his phone out, Calden sends a one word text.

  Sorry.

  Inside Lola’s, Eli pulls out his phone. He’s smiling when he types a reply.

  Idiot.

  Get in here already. I ordered for both of us.

  It only takes Calden four strides to cross the street.

  (next chronological chapter)

  July 22nd

  “Nice of you to come by, Doctor Langton.” Eli shook the Chief of Surgery’s hand, genuinely glad to see him, and welcomed him into the living room. It had been a while since Langton had dropped by, and Eli couldn’t wait for him to see how much Calden had improved. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?”

  He stopped himself before mentioning alcohol. They didn’t have any in the house. Eli’s self-imposed penance for acting like an idiot the last time he’d had a glass and drowned himself in self-pity.

  “Thanks but I can’t stay long,” Langton answered with an apologetic smile.

  “Ah,” Eli said, understanding. “Then this is about work.”

  Langton’s smile sharpened a little. “Yes, well, he made it clear last time that he’s not interested in sympathy. And you… I’m still waiting for you to reply to my last message about meeting me for a chat.”

  It was Eli’s turn to smile ruefully. He rubbed the back of his head and went to take a seat, inviting Langton to do the same with a gesture.

  “We’re still learning to adjust,” he said with a small shrug. “His sleeping patterns were too messed up for me to leave for long. But that’s getting better. And we’re finding ways to cope.”

  Langton gave him a questioning look, and Eli had no doubt that he wanted details. Eli was loath to say too much, however. They were all doctors, but that didn’t negate Calden’s right to privacy. Besides, Calden’s relationship with the Chief of Surgery was complicated to say the least, mostly because Langton was a close friend of Lana’s, which, to Calden, was the worst of recommendations. And while Eli had seen for himself how much Langton cared about Calden as a person, Calden acted for the most part as though Langton only cared about what Calden could do in the operating room.

  “How much better is he?” Langton asked, more quietly now. “Well enough to come back to work?”

  Eli’s gaze flicked to the hallway where Calden had just appeared. His dark hair was still a little damp from his shower, and he was buttoning the cuffs on his shirt. The white fabric was so thin that Eli could just see the black ink under the left sleeve. Or maybe he only thought he could see it because he knew it was there.

  “Why don’t you ask him?” Eli said, directing Langton’s attention to Calden.

  Langton’s head jerked up, and he smiled. “Hello, Calden. Good to see you. You look—”

  “You can dispense with the platitudes,” Calden cut in coolly, now slipping on his suit jacket. “Yes, I’m perfectly able to operate if you need me.” He arched an eyebrow toward Langton. “But then, if you didn’t need me, you wouldn’t be here. You haven’t come by at all since my illness, have you? It just goes to show how much you care.”

  Langton’s smile faded.

  “Actually,” Eli said pointedly, “Doctor Langton has been around to check on you. And you, giant idiot that you are, told him not to bother showing up again unless he wanted you to go back to the OR.”

  Calden froze in the middle of brushing imaginary lint off his lapel. Eli could almost have believed Calden was embarrassed—if ‘embarrassed’ was a word that could ever apply to Calden. Soon, though, his expression turned haughty.

  “That wasn’t in the notebook,” he sniffed. “I can’t be held responsible for what’s not in the notebook.”

  “What notebook?” Langton asked.

  “One of our coping mechanisms,” Eli told him, before answering Calden. “It’s not in the notebook because his last visit was pre-notebook. You might want to put in a page about him.”

  Calden sniffed again. “A page? More like three lines.”

  “I have this vague feeling I should feel insulted,” Langton said wryly. “But that’s hardly anything new when I’m around you.”

  Calden took a seat and unbuttoned his jacket, which he’d just done up. His fingers were soon drumming on the armrest of his chair as he demanded details about the current situation at the hospital. Eli listened absently; something bothered him about Calden’s demeanor. The drumming wasn’t anything new, but it usually meant Calden was bored. He’d been up for twelve hours or so… Was that enough to be bored already?

  “We’ve just come out of three major attacks,” Langton said grimly. “One a week ago, followed by a second wave two days later, and then again three days ago. This one lasted over forty hours.”

  “A lot of wounded?”

  Eli hated how cold Calden could sound when he talked about human lives, seeing them as little more than potentially interesting cases in the operating room. Only afterwards, when they were saved, could he talk to them as people.

  “Too many,” Langton said. “The walls were breached in the last attack, so we had some civilians on top of our lot of soldiers. The hospital’s full, and everyone’s exhausted. If you could—”

  “I’m perfectly rested,” Calden interrupted. “And perfectly able to perform surgery.”

  Langton glanced at Eli as though hoping for confirmation. Eli shrugged.

  “I don’t see why not. It’s only his day to day memory that is affected. His medical knowledge and fine motor control are fine.”

  “And he likes being talked about as though he’s not even in the room just as much as he always did,” Calden added dryly.

  Eli rolled his eyes at him, unapologetic. Were they supposed to talk about him behind his back instead?

  As much as Langton needed Calden, he still looked unsure. “Maybe you could start with small things,” he suggested. “Get you back into the rhythm of the hospital.”

  Calden looked affronted. “I’m the best damn surgeon you’ve got and you want me to do what? Look at sprained ankles?”

  Langton sighed. “As modest as ever, I see. Fine. I’m sure we’ll find you something interesting to do. But…” He glanced at Eli before meeting Calden’s gaze again. “Now, understand that I’m not doubting what you can do, but you just came out of a very serious situation and you still have a life-altering condition. I can’t let you unsupervised into the OR. You’ll be in charge but—”

  “Eli will come along,” Calden interrupted again. “He can keep an eye on me for you.”

  A little belatedly, he looked at Eli and asked, “You don’t mind, right?”

  Smiling thinly, Eli shook his head. As long as he wasn’t asked to pick up a scalpel, he didn’t mind being in the OR.

  “Very good,” Langton said as he stood. “How soon can we expect you?”

  Calden looked at Eli, one eyebrow raised. Eli answered for him.

  “We’ll be right behind you.”

  After a curt nod at Eli, Langton left the house. As soon as the door had closed on him, Calden jumped to his feet. />
  “Three attacks practically one after the other,” he muttered, and Eli couldn’t tell if he was talking to him or to himself. “Sounds like I missed all the fun.”

  At the flicker of a glance toward Eli on the last word, Eli realized two things: Calden was waiting for him to say that being excited about demon attacks was not appropriate—and he was nervous. That was what his fidgeting was about. Nervousness, not boredom. But why?

  “You might want to tone it down a little,” Eli said, vaguely reproachful, since that was what was expected of him. “I doubt anyone at the hospital would be too happy to hear you say those last few days they went through were ‘fun.’”

  Calden huffed. He was already at the door, waiting for Eli with undisguised impatience. “They already think little of me. If I didn’t act like myself, they’d think something is wrong.”

  Eli followed Calden to the street and wondered if that was the reason for his nervousness. Should he address the matter? God knew he didn’t want to, not when Calden was having what was, all things considered, a pretty good day so far. But Calden would realize soon enough…

  Once they’d climbed into his car and were on their way to the hospital, Eli decided he might as well tell Calden.

  “Everyone knows what happened to you,” he said after clearing his throat. “Everyone at the hospital, I mean. They know.”

  Calden looked at him in surprise.

  “Why would they know that? My medical status is private.”

  Eli winced.

  “It should have been. Petters was furious when it got out, but he never figured out who gossiped and spread the news.”

  Eli could see a muscle twitching in Calden’s cheek as he clenched his jaw.

  “Or he claims to be furious,” he said coldly. “He never liked me.”

  Unfortunately, that much was true. Calden rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, Petters included.

  “When I first started at the hospital,” Calden continued quietly, “he always went out of his way to imply I was only there because my father was Chief of Surgery. He changed his refrain when I came back after my overdose, and said it was Lana’s influence that had bought my way back in. I’m surprised he’s not claiming I’m brain damaged and unable to do my job.”

  “He did say that,” Eli admitted. “Called a meeting of all senior staff. Opinions were pretty divided, but Doctor Samford spoke for you, and Doctor Langton supported you as well. In the end, everyone had to admit the hospital is grossly understaffed as it is, and we simply can’t afford to lose someone like you. Now’s your chance to prove Petters wrong. Show him and everyone else you’re fine.”

  Calden scoffed. “Of course I’m fine. And why would I care about what he thinks? I never did before; I’m not going to start now.”

  “Of course not,” Eli said, focusing on the road. “What was I thinking.”

  They were both silent for a little while, but as they were approaching their destination, Calden asked, “What’s the longest I’ve gone without falling asleep?”

  “Twenty hours.”

  From the corner of his eye, Eli could see Calden grimace.

  “Is that all?”

  “Well, considering that when you were released from the hospital you couldn’t go twelve hours without a nap, twenty isn’t all that bad.”

  Calden bristled. “No need to patronize me.”

  “I’m not patronizing you,” Eli said calmly. This, too, was beginning to feel like a much-too-familiar conversation. “You asked a question, I answered. You woke up…” He glanced at his watch. “Twelve and a half hours ago, now. Which means you’ve got roughly seven and a half hours, maybe a little more, maybe a bit less, to show Langton, Petters, and everyone at the hospital that you’re as brilliant as ever. It’s not like you’ve never worked on a deadline before. Now stop being nervous because you’re making me nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous,” Calden claimed indignantly, but his foot, Eli noticed, stopped its tapping.

  As soon as they stepped into the hospital, Eli could recognize the mood that had settled over everyone like a scratchy blanket, warm yet uncomfortable. Physical and mental exhaustion from repeated demon attacks and the influx of wounded soldiers—and deaths—that came with it. Relief that things were finally slowing down. Determination to save those patients that were still between life and death so as not to add to the toll. Wariness that this slow down was only temporary.

  Eli had been there before, feeling all this right along with his colleagues, both before his injury when he’d had a direct hand in treating the wounded, and after when he’d started working behind the scenes to ensure the hospital functioned smoothly. Today, he was taking on a new role. Most people would see it as a demotion and wonder why he’d even want to do this, but he wasn’t most people. Calden was the most gifted surgeon the city could count on. Even the people who couldn’t stand Calden because of his abrasive personality recognized that much. If all Eli did was make it possible for Calden to return to the job he loved so much and was so good at, he’d still help save more lives than he had as an administrator. That job had been offered to him like a consolation prize for his injury; this task, he’d chosen himself.

  They received a few odd looks on their way to the changing room, but it didn’t seem to faze Calden. Once they were changed into scrubs, they went to take a look at the assignation board. Langton was there, as well as Petters and Selwin, both of which threw perfunctory nods of greetings toward Eli and Calden before looking once more at the board and what Langton was writing.

  “Seriously?” Calden exclaimed as Langton started to write his name next to cardiac surgery. “You asked me to come for a shunt? It doesn’t even have anything to do with the attacks, does it?”

  Langton glanced back, tilting his head down to look at Calden over the rim of the glasses perched on his nose.

  “Doctor Hayes. We’ve had this conversation before. I do not assign surgical acts according to whether I think my doctors will enjoy performing them or not.”

  To the side, Petters buried a snort in his cup of coffee while Selwin walked away, shaking his head.

  “If you’d rather go home,” Langton continued, “feel free. I’m sure those of your colleagues who expressed doubts about you returning to us won’t mind picking up the slack.”

  He was careful not to look at Petters as he said so, but Calden did, throwing the man a glare before demanding icily from Langton, “The file?”

  The nurse who was standing next to Langton browsed through the few files she held before handing one to Langton, who held it out to Calden. Calden stepped forward to take it, but Langton didn’t let go at first.

  “Welcome back,” he said with a faint smile before finally letting Calden have the slim file.

  That smile took an entirely different meaning a few moments later as Calden and Eli read through the patient information and looked at the X-rays and other images included in the folder. Eli couldn’t help chuckling quietly.

  “Right,” he said, shaking his head. “So when Langton said he doesn’t assign surgical acts according to the enjoyment factor, he was lying through his teeth.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” Calden said absently, still entranced as he looked at the X-rays. “The shunt itself is still boring. He didn’t say anything about assigning surgery according to the rarity of arrangement of internal organs. Have you ever seen something like this?”

  “Have I ever seen a case of situs inversus? Sure. In my textbook in medical school. I always thought they’d just mirrored the picture. But I’ve never seen one on an actual operating table. Have you?”

  Judging from Calden’s lack of reply as he continued to stare, neither had he.

  The surgery itself went smoothly. Eli had scrubbed alongside Calden and, for the first time in two years, he stood in an operating room while surgery was being performed. He didn’t help, however, his role only that of an observer, his attention divided between Calden and the odd arrangement of organs in th
e patient’s open chest, with the heart on the right and everything else inverted as well.

  Afterward, when they stepped out of the OR, Calden appeared to be in a rather grim mood.

  “Still thinking this was beneath your considerable talents?” Eli asked, teasing.

  “No,” Calden muttered. “Thinking it’s a shame I’m going to forget this.”

  A pang of pure cold rang through Eli. He’d forgotten. For the time the surgery had lasted, he’d all but forgotten Calden’s condition, too caught up in the precise way his hands wielded the instruments. The irony of it wasn’t lost on him.

  “You could write about it in your diary,” he suggested quietly.

  Calden shrugged. “I suppose. It’s not the same, though.”

  Eli didn’t reply, but he decided he’d try to get a copy of the video. The hospital routinely recorded uncommon procedures for teaching purposes, but Eli suspected this one had been taped for Calden’s dexterity to be scrutinized, too. Surely Langton wouldn’t object to a copy being made, especially if, as Eli suspected, he’d assigned this patient to Calden as some sort of ‘welcome back’ present.

  For the next few hours, Eli could almost have forgotten what a strange world he now lived in. Calden was… Calden, in a way he hadn’t been in weeks. He performed two more surgeries, and each went without a hitch so that when the patients were transferred to their aftercare team, there were hardly any complications anticipated.

  It all came to a crashing halt when Doctor Petters, in charge now that Langton had gone home for the evening, refused to assign anything more to Calden until all three surgeries he’d performed so far could be reviewed and graded against the hospital standards of care to make sure that his illness and its consequences were not still affecting him.

  “My illness is over,” Calden replied, his eyes darkening along with his voice. “It has no more relevance today than the bout of flu you endured last winter. I hardly need to know what I had for lunch yesterday to perform surgeries half the doctors in this hospital wouldn’t dare touch unless they were the patient’s very last resort. Including you.”