It had been exhausting for Grace, working at her practice while at the same time pulling full-time hours at the hospital that Kathryn had arranged for her to work in. She was pulling double shifts, sometimes not getting home until days after she left. She was ready to drop, which was a good thing. Because no one would question an overworked doctor making a mistake in the operating room. Not for the first time, Grace mentally kicked herself for agreeing to help Kathryn out with the task she had been given. 

She covered her yawn with the crook of her elbow as her eyes filled with tears. Only six more hours and this would all be over with, hopefully. She scrubbed her hands at the sink, nodding her head occasionally in greeting to a nurse or other doctor that came in the room, but for the most part, she didn’t move or speak. She was getting her head in the game. 
The nurses wheeled the man into the OR and turned the light on above him. She could see through the window that he was talking to them, joking around. Grace bit her lower lip as she watched, trying desperately to dehumanize him in her head. 

She gripped the edge of the sink as she slowly went over all of the reasons Kathryn had asked her to do this, each one firming her resolve to end this man’s life. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she looked down at her hands. Surgeon’s hands. Hands that could and have saved lives. But now these were going to be the hands of a murderer. It was this thought that Grace realized that perhaps doctors had a bit too much time before surgeries. She snorted and thought, “too much time on their hands.” which made her laugh a bit considering her previous train of thought. 

She headed into the operating room looking around at the people gathered. “Alright folks, we ready to get started?” She asked them as she stepped closer to the bed. She stood by the man’s head, looking down at him with a queer smile on her face. “Hello, I see we meet again” she told him. “Now, we’re going to be injecting you with an anesthetic and once that is done I’d like you to count down from 100. Can you do that for me?” she said and as he said yes she turned around to pick up the syringe she had prepared earlier. 

She inserted the needle into the port on his IV in his hand. Pressing the plunger down she eyed the monitors and then the patient. Once the plunger was depressed all the way she pulled the needle out and said, “Alright, you can begin counting.” as she turned to place the empty syringe on the steel tray behind her. There were two more sat there, waiting. But the time for them would come soon enough. The man started counting, confidently but as the drugs began to kick in he started slurring his words and his voice started to drift off. Once he got near the low 90s he was impossible to understand, until finally he stopped completely and dropped into unconsciousness. 

Grace picked up her scalpel and made a deep Y-cut on the man's chest as if she were doing an autopsy. One of the nurses sputtered her confusion but Grace quieted her with a simple, “I’m going to have to split his ribs open to get to his heart, this is the easiest way.” before carrying on with the task of cutting through muscle and fat until his rib cage was exposed. She set the scalpel to the side and reached for her bone saw. She made quick work of the man’s sternum before leveraging the bones of his ribcage, now in two halves, open with a retractor so she could get to his heart. She stared at the beating organ in his chest and realized she didn’t have to finesse this, she could just knick something and let the poor man bleed out. But she didn’t want to miss this chance to perform an actual surgery. Sure, he was going to die at the end of it, but if he lived up until that moment it meant she had managed to do something amazing. 

She went to work cutting away the tissue that needed to be taken out, tossing it into a stainless steel bowl that a nurse was holding. As she worked she hummed under her breath, trying to keep her mind focused on the job at hand and not what was to come. But as it so often did, her mind betrayed her and she thought back to the conversation she had with Kathryn regarding this man. She still had time to back out, she knew that. But her friend needed this done, and she had agreed to it. 

She pushed the thought of just letting the man live from her mind as she put the sutures in his heart, almost done. She glanced at the clock on the wall, shocked that hours had gone by. It felt like she had just gotten in the operating room. With the final stitch in place she looked around the room and nodded her head, it was time to close him up. She removed the retractor and pressed the halves of the sternum back together while a nurse wrapped steel wire around the bones, holding them in place so they could heal together. 

When she let go and the two halves stayed put she grabbed her sutures and started stitching the man back together. When she was finished she set her tools down and let out a sigh before wiping her brow on the back of her arm, “Well folks, we did it.” she told her surgical team. “Let me go wash my hands while you all cleanup, and then I’ll make sure he’s good to be moved into his room,” she told them before leaving the OR and heading into the side room where she peeled her gloves off and washed her hands. Her gown was splattered with blood and bits of bone from the bone saw, but she just pulled that off and threw it in the biohazard garbage before pulling her face mask off. 

Once her hands were dry she headed back into the OR happy to see that the majority of the doctors and nurses who had been assisting her had left the room. She leaned over his body and checked his pulse, still going strong. For now. Picking up a syringe she pulled in some antibiotics and then stuck the needle in the tube while no one was looking. It was routine, to stop infections before they had a chance to start, but she hadn’t tapped out the air bubbles. As she pushed the plunger down on the needle she watched as the tiniest little air bubble made its way through the clear tubing leading to his arm. She pocketed the syringe and turned to walk out. As the doors closed behind her a nurse cried out in a panic, “He’s dying!” before a chorus of voices joined in yelling orders to try to save the man’s life. 

She stopped at her locker, knowing she probably wouldn’t be back. Picking up her coat and purse she headed outside to hail a cab. Giving directions to Kathryn’s office she rested her head on the back of the seat and closed her eyes. When she got there she paid the driver, not really caring that she was tipping him an absurd amount and climbed out of the car. Making her way to her friend’s office she knocked twice and then stuck her head in, “It’s done.” she said. 
 

Kathryn stood up and walked around to Grace, giving her friend a hug. It wasn't normally how she operated, but Grace wasn't exactly a normal member of her organization. And more than that, it was her first time.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded her head, "I think I will be, I just need to come to terms with it." she told her with a shrug. "I suppose after I leave here I should go back to the hospital and inquire about them. My shift was over, so I don't think they realize I even know he's died," she said. "Maybe I'll just wait until the morning," she added softly as she pushed her hair out of her face. "I'm so tired I can't even think straight." she grinned, "But, if I hadn't done it, he'd have lived with an improved and healthy ticker, so I guess that's something." she told her friend, "You haven't lived until you've watched a man's heart beat inside his open chest, it's amazing. I'm so glad I got to do that." she admitted. 

Kathryn furrowed her brow.

"Well I'm happy you saw that. But you seem exhausted. Do you want to stay here?"

She gestured her apartment next door. 

"I have wine. And I think you need to rest."

Grace perked up a bit at the mention of wine, "I suppose a glass or three wouldn't hurt." she said with a smile, "besides, you owe me an explanation." she told her as she pointed her finger at the woman. "Up and vanishing like that, without a word!" she let her shoulders drop. "You go get the wine, I need to take my shoes off." she said before making her way to the apartment to kick off her shoes and curl up on the couch while she waited for Kat to join her. 

Kathryn poured two large glasses of pinot noir and handed one to Grace as she sat next to her.

"You're first. I know you feel okay at the moment- but this is going to hit you later. Hard. It happened with me. Happens with most people. I wouldn't be surprised if you felt it a little more intensely than most, all things considered. So when that hits... just know I'm here for you, okay? Is there anything you want to talk about?"

She took a long drink and then closed her eyes. "Thank you." she managed to say before taking another drink. "I think its going to hit when I have to talk to his family." she admitted to Kat. "To look them in the eyes, tell them the surgery went fine and then there was a complication and he died when he clearly should have lived." she shook her head, "Thats going to be a tough moment." she opened her eyes, "But I'll get through it." she said with a sad smile, "I always do."

Kathryn looked steadily at Grace.

"You can't say you always do if you've never done something before. I'm here for you, Grace. Whatever you need. But maybe it's good to talk about something else. Now what did you want to know about my trip to New Orleans?"

Grace shook her head, "I meant its not the first time I've had to face a grieving family. This time is slightly different, but its still at the core going to be the same emotionally." she blinked a few times and then looked at Kat, "First off, what were you thinking? Taking off like that without a word to any of us?" she asked her friend. "You just up and left, without telling us where you were going or when you'd be back." she nearly threw her hands up, only just remembering her glass of wine in the nick of time. "And with that shoulder!" she said. 

 "Oh. Yea. I've actually been meaning to come see you to get that checked out. Is that something we can do now, by the way? No, you're tired. Uh. So I went to New Orleans... because I felt... really horrible... about something. Romance stuff. So I just kinda left. Went to New Orleans. Killed a guy. One of the ones who'd killed my father. It's... kind of a longer story."

Kathryn blinked.

"And I only got a little stabbed. It's not that bad of a scar."

"Stabbed?" she said as she quickly leaned forward and put her wine glass down on the coffee table, a bit nearly splashing over the rim onto the wood below. "Stand up, right now." she said sternly as she scooted forward on the couch, "I need to take a look at this." she told the woman. 

Kathryn sipped her wine, trying to calm Grace.

"Slashed. Lightly slashed. Practically knife-caressed. It's not a big deal, really. It's a cool looking scar."

Grace crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Kathryn, not saying a word. 

Kathryn sighed to herself as she started unbuckling her pants.

"God damn it, Grace... this is only because I'm trying to be nice to you right now."

She started to slide her jeans down before she froze, deciding instead to walk into her room. A few minutes later she emerged wearing a silk robe that fell to her mid thigh. Sighing exasperatedly as she stood in front of Grace and turned, lifting up a portion of the robe to reveal a six inch scar on her left thigh. The cut hadn't been too deep.

Grace picked up her wine and took a gulp as Kat left the room and raised a hand to her face to feel the flush there. "Damn it," she muttered before Kat came back in the room dressed in a robe. As she showed off the scar Grace tried to be as professional as possible. "Ok." she finally said reaching for the wine again. "It would have healed nicer with some stitches, the scar is a bit raised, but it has healed nicely," she told Kathryn. "And your shoulder?" she asked, "Has it caused you any problems?" 

Kathryn raised her shoulder, but she couldn't quite even it out, as her hand still pointed slightly downward.

"Doesn't hurt at all; it just doesn't bend as much as it used to."

Grace nodded and then patted the seat next to her, "That's to be expected, unfortunately. But as long as there's no pain, hopefully, if you keep doing the exercises I showed you, more and more movement will come back." she frowned, "But it won't ever be exactly the same, and it might hurt occasionally." she admitted to the woman. "But at least it works, and I didn't have to cut it off." she added with a laugh. 

Kathryn rolled her eyes as she sat next to Grace and tucked her legs under her to the side.

"Don't even joke. But yea... New Orleans. Basically, I very dramatically confessed my love to someone and they didn't feel the same way.  So I just felt like I had to take off an be not in Las Vegas, you know? So I drove down to New Orleans. Did some scouting. Half-avenged my father by killing someone. Technically it was like... six people. But only the one really mattered. Kind of. My lawyer was relatively innocent, but that's a long story, too. But yea. Now I'm back."

Grace ran a hand over her face, trying to process everything she just heard. "Thats... thats quite the story." she told her, "Although, I'm not sure why your first instinct was to run away." She said softly, "I would have tried to help if you had just let me in." she shook her head, "But, you did what you had to do. Do you feel better?" she asked, looking at her friends face intently. 

Kathryn smiled warmly.

"I know you would have helped, Grace. But I don't think there was anything you can do. You don't fix internal things."

She frowned.

"Well, you know what I mean. You go inside, but you can't operate on thoughts and feelings. And I feel a little better, yea."