Warning

It wasn’t a remarkable day.

The weather had called for rain but the skies had chosen to maintain their stubborn streak and refuse to pour—it was just grey and dark, like it had been that whole week. The ground was wet with slush, but the city seemed as alive and vibrant as ever. Everything was the same, everything was unremarkable.

We met for lunch like we did every Thursday, cramming ourselves into that red vinyl booth next to the big window. Jordan had brought his umbrella, Max wore a hideous coat over his jeans and button-down, and Kris teased me about my food.

“You’re going to have a heart attack one day from all those trans-fats.” He remarked as I handed the waitress my menu, anxiously awaiting my cheeseburger and fries. I just laughed and patted his shoulder. The routine hadn’t let up for a year and I had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t die anytime soon.

“Here in America, Kristopher, we have that choice. It’s called freedom. “ I shrugged casually. “Let it ring, man.”

“Let what ring?” Max asked, confused and Jordan shook his head.

“Shut up, Staal. You’re practically American.” Kris quipped lightly and Jordan’s face dissolved into shock.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Jordan asked, glaring at Kris. I just giggled, leaning back into the booth.

“Boys, settle down. I know it’s hard being foreigners in a place so fantastic, but I mean. Canada’s okay…ish.” I said and they all stared at me. “Okay fine, new topic. Don’t cry, ladies.” I added and they grinned.

“Liz is doing a project with her kids and they have to draw a picture of what they’d want to do if it was their last day on earth.” Kris said, taking a drink of water while the rest of us stared at him.

“Well that’s a little morbid.” Jordan commented and Kris shrugged.

“Their class was sponsoring a kid with cancer and she died after getting one of those wish things.”

“Oh yeah, the Make-A-Wish foundation.” Max said. “One kid was given too much drugs one year and asked to meet Sidney as his wish. I would use mine to get away from him…” he mumbled and I kicked him under the table lightly.

“You’re obsessed with him. You lovveee him. You guys stay up all night and braid each others hair and—“ I began to tease and Max shot the straw wrapper into my face. My hands flew to my face to brush it off and the straw landed inside my lavender sweater.

“I could make that into a bar trick to pick up the ladies.” He said with a laugh as I dug the wrapper out from my cleavage, looking back at Max with a look of mock sternness.

“Rude.” I said, my attention turning to the waitress as she brought our food. I accepted my plate happily, my face breaking into a smile. As I picked up my cheeseburger, I heard Kris ask a question in his gentle, accented voice.

“So what would you guys do for your last day?” Kris inquired casually, poking at his salad with a fork. Jordan leaned forward over his scrambled eggs to contemplate, resting his head on his hands, his fingers locked together.

“We have this cabin in Thunder Bay.” Jordan began breaking his position and lightly pushing around the eggs with his fork. “My brothers and my parents and our whole family go up there all the time. I’d like to be there. Throw a huge ‘Jordan is dying’ party and you all can come and get drunk and tell me how much you love me.” He said with a grin, finally taking a bite as he was clearly satisfied with his answer.

Max shrugged. “I’d want to be back home too, with my family. Playing some hockey out on the pond—hopefully my last day is in the winter.”

“Poetic.” Kris said with a laugh. “I’d want to be on a beach, with all my friends and family. Just having a good time. Lots of drinks and pretty girls.”

“Does that mean Max won’t be invited?” Jordan asked with one of his half smiles. His chirps always came with that quiet and polite expression, like he was slightly apologetic for his own humor.

“Are you trying to say I’m not pretty?” Max asked, batting his lashes at Jordan. Staal gave him a pat on the back and the group erupted in laughter again.

But as soon as the joke dissolved, their attention all turned to me and I just shrugged. “I don’t know. “ I looked at them and then focused my eyes out to the busy Pittsburgh streets. “I guess I’d like to be right here. With you three weirdos in this booth, eating the worlds best cheeseburger and fries. I’d definitely get pie after though. And Lucy and Marc and Sidney would be here too, obviously. And then I’d want to go and do one last surgery at the hospital—just me and some complex cardiac procedure with Kat by my side assisting. That would be great.”

---

I stared over the operating room table at Neal, his blue eyes gentle and concerned. I could feel my own eyes grow wetter as I looked from him down to my hand, which was now secured tightly around a small, unexploded rocket.

I could feel the aorta bleed, the pulse of blood against my gloved fingers. Kat looked at me and we stared at one another for awhile. I couldn’t think about the fact that a small shift could cause the whole room to explode. I couldn’t think about the fact that there was a man here who could bleed out and die, I couldn’t think about the fact that I hadn’t—I couldn’t remember the time I really kissed Sidney. All I could think about was that day with Jordan, Max, and Kris in that diner. It was right after Lucy’s wedding, when everything was shiny and new and perfect. We lived in a fantasy then, something unreal and magical.

“Dr. Swenn.” I heard Savard call Kat’s name and I bit my lip, watching her go over. Away from the crazy girl with the bomb in her hand. I saw her nod at whatever the attendings had told her and she was gone. She was out the doors and free. She was safe.

“So.” I said, blinking away the tears that had formed. “I guess we’re not doing that sub-arachnoid procedure.” I said with a small smile and they just turned back towards me, their eyes moving from the bomb to my face.

---

Kat used the phone outside of the OR to call a code black and by the time she was up on the main floor, the hospital was a chaotic mess. Ambulances were parked outside, transporting patients to another hospital and several police cars were lined up, with police officers trying their best to secure the building and supervise the evacuation.

Her job was to stand here and wait. Wait for the bomb squad, tell them what was happening and then lead them to the elevator. That’s when she would go. That was the plan.

But at the nurses station, she saw Sidney Crosby standing there, trying to explain to a nurse why he was here. She couldn’t tell him anything, Kat knew that; a code black was reserved for hospital staff and just meant a basic evacuation for the patients. Nobody was told anything they didn’t have to know. And maybe it was the fact that Violet was down in the OR with her hand on a bomb or because she felt bad for him, but Kat found herself wandering over. Sidney recognized her instantly.

“You’re Dr. Swenn, right?” he asked and she nodded. “Can you tell me where Violet is—and what’s going on here?” Kat frowned and looked around, motioning for him to follow her to a more secluded waiting room. The chairs were all empty, the phone was ringing constantly and nobody was there to answer it. It was because this waiting room was above OR 3, where Violet was with the bomb.

“Violet is in…surgery.” Kat said, frowning. A part of her didn’t want to cross that line and yet she felt strangely obligated. And with that feeling of obligation, every detail bubbled up to the surface in a split second.

“There’s a bomb. Inside a patient, there’s a bomb. And Violet—“ Katarina found herself frustrated at the situation, frustrated that she wasn’t down there helping Savard and Hansan. “—Violet is really, really stupid. She’s holding the bomb. There was a paramedic holding it but he panicked and ran away, so Violet stuck her hand in there to stop the patient from bleeding out. Nobody knew it was live ammunition.” She said as Sidney’s face went pale.

“I just saw her.” He said flatly, his expression blank. “I just saw her a few hours ago, she was scrubbing in on brain surgery—“ he was replaying the events, trying to figure out whether or not it was even possible for her to be there in that operating room with the bomb. Not that it mattered, expectations never mattered when it came to reality.

“Is she going to be okay?” he asked and Kat frowned. “I mean, she has to be okay.” He reformatted the previous question into a statement, but she didn’t blink or say anything to the affirmative. Instead she looked passed his head, seeing five men in Flak jackets and boots enter through the sliding doors and look around. Kat placed her hand on Sidney’s shoulder, standing up. It was a kind gesture, although it failed to provide any sort of comfort.

“That’s the bomb squad, I think.” She answered, pointing to the doors and the men. Sidney’s focused his attention on them and Kat looked down at him again. “I have to go, it was my job to direct them up to OR three but I’ll try to keep you informed, okay. You should really get out of here though.” She advised, knowing that her advice was given in vain. She didn’t have time to contemplate, instead she ran over to the team.

The bomb squad seemed to be led by a man who looked too young to be handling explosives. He introduced himself as Brad Thompson, his handsome face never showing a sign of friendliness or warmth during his greeting. She explained what was happening and directed them to the elevator, but was instructed to stay at the lobby. Kat nodded, but as soon as they were gone she flew to the stairs and moved down to the operating rooms in a hurry. She stayed near the doors when she got there, watching Brad Thompson and the rest of his group enter the OR. Kat opened the door as soon as they were in the operating room, decidedly watching out of

“I thought I told you to stay in the lobby.” The bomb squad leader said sternly, keeping his voice level and calm despite the heavy message. Violet looked up at her as soon as she entered the operating room, her

“Can I just say, this was incredibly stupid of you to do?” she heard Thompson say to her quietly as he strapped the jacket across her waist.

“It was, Violet. Incredibly stupid.” Kat echoed, staying in her place.

“You know when someone doesn’t need to be made fun of? When your hand is in a body holding a bomb and some stranger is strapping a Flak jacket to your boobs.” Violet said, her eyes moving to the bomb squad leader.

“Hey you.” Thompson called to Kat and she turned her head from Savard and Hansan to him. She moved closer to him obediently. “I need you to go upstairs to the lobby and find the chief. He’s with our coordinator looking at the floor plans of the hospital and I need to know what our next move is going to be. So I would hurry.” Kat nodded and moved out of the scrub room quickly, leaving them all alone in the OR.

Violet turned her eyes back to the bomb squad leader. “You’ve got a plan to get me out of this, right?”