The Good Ones Go

It's 7:30 the following morning when Chelsea wakes up in the empty employee lounge to the ringing of her phone, something she has grown accustomed to. She unravels herself from the tattooed arms wrapped around her and reaches over to the table to grab her cell.

Blindly she swipes her finger across the screen and pushes her tired hand up to her ear. "Hello," she groans into the speaker as she leans back onto the couch massaging her sore neck.

"Hey, Chels," she hears Travis whisper faintly from the other end. His voice is hesitant and hopeful.

Chelsea's body jolts awake at the sound of his unexpected voice; she sits back up as her eyes shoot open. Wide awake now she whispers, "Travis?" into the phone and looks back to make sure Cole is still asleep. Gently she stands up and tip-toes out of the lounge waiting for his response.

"You okay?" he asks. She sounds panicked, and it worries him. His groggy voice lets her know he just woke up himself, and a quick smirk graces her face because it gives her satisfaction to know that she's his first thought.

"I'm fine," she says with a smile on her face. It's fake, and Travis can hear it in her voice, but he says nothing and lets out a sigh instead. She closes her eyes shut and leans against the wall as she lets the moment of silence grow longer than intended.

"You got time for food?" Travis asks. He knows she still needs him because, well, he knows her.

Chelsea glances over through the glass doors, and her eyes fall on the curled up figure on the couch. "I can't," she says with her head in her palm, "I'm at the hospital."

"What? Are you ok?" he asks panicked grabbing his keys from his bedside table and springing up from his bed frantically.

"Yea, sorry, I meant I'm with a patient," she clarifies when she hears the alarm in his voice.

Travis' eyes shut, and he lets out a sigh of relief as his back hits the wall, and his body slumps down to the ground. "I thought you were off this week?" he asks flippantly not wanting her to know how much the thought of her hurt had scared him.

"Yea, it was an emergency," she says biting her lip. She doesn't know how to explain the situation to him, and she's already fighting with Adam again - she doesn't want to have another fight with Travis too.

"Well, how about I stop by, and we can have breakfast there?" There is a veil of hope over every word he speaks because he really wants to see her, and he doesn't want to take no for an answer.

Chelsea looks up through the glass doors again hesitantly. She knows Travis will be upset when he finds out she's treating Cole's daughter, but she really needs (and misses) him. She nods as if he could see her and says, "sure, I'd like that," before hanging up and going up to her office. She takes the long way taking her time as if she's dreading the rest of her day. She can feel something bad is coming, and it scares her.

Chelsea lets out a sigh and leans on the frame before giving a slight knock to the open door. Federico, her coworker, looks up with a raised eyebrow.

"You know, if Goltsiker sees you here you'll be back on duty; aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon anyway?" he asks as he pockets his pen and stands up.

Chelsea groans in response crossing her arms and letting her eyes squeeze shut, "can we please just talk about something else?" She's tired of talking about her honeymoon. Her whole life is a disaster, and she'd take any distraction anyone is willing to throw her.

"How about the fact that you look like crap? How long has it been since you've went home?" he jokes out loud even though he's really worried about her. She does look like shit, and he's never seen her anything less than composed.

"Ok, I honestly have no idea why I came up here," she rolls her eyes as she walks over to sit on the brown leather waiting couch.

"To apologize for not inviting me to the bachelorette party as promised?" he chuckles sitting back down at his desk.

Before Chelsea can respond there is a knock on the door, and her eyes sparkle when she looks up to meet Travis' gaze. He's wearing some dark grey sweats and his usual white tee. His nose ring is in today, and he pushes his jet black her back as his eyes ghost over Chelsea's figure. She jump up from her seat and sprints over to him saying, "oh my gosh, am I so glad to see you," as she throws her arms around his neck.

Travis wraps his own arms around her waist letting his eyes flutter shut as his nose dives into her chocolate locks inhaling her natural scent. Rico clears his throat to remind them that he's still in the room, and Chelsea unravels herself from Travis' grasp in response. "We're gonna get some breakfast, Rico, I'll see you later," she says before walking out with Travis in tow. Frederico shakes his head as the pair leave. Whatever they're doing is a bad idea. They're too close for comfort, and Rico resolves he's going to pretend he never saw any of it.

"I'm so sorry," her gentle voice travels to his ears as they stroll to the cafeteria together.

"For what?" he asks placing his hands in his pockets awkwardly listening to to sound of her black heels click against the tile floor.

"Shit, for everything. I shouldn't have gotten so upset with you. You were only trying to help as much as you could. You were divided between two friends. I know that’s hard, and I overreacted," she says sincerely before grabbing a tray and ordering a bagel and coffee.

Travis sighs, "I didn't know what do. I'm just glad you forgive me though." They walk up to the register where the clerk greets them happily, and Travis pays for both their meals before they sit down at a small round table.

"Of course, I guess I just really needed some time to process everything. Did you know he bought us the house?" She exclaims spreading the cream cheese on her bagel.

"The house? Your dream house?" he asks surprised. When she nods he can't help but laugh, "marriage is one thing - you can easily get divorced, but he bought your dream house? You're fucked now." He tries to make light of the situation because there's hardly anything else to do.

"Shut up," he rolls her eyes with a smile on her face. "Seriously though, I just felt so horrible after seeing it. It was half fucking furnished. Makes me feel ungrateful, you know?"

"Chels," Travis sighs, "he was sneaking around in a really suspicious fucking way - what were you supposed to think?" He needs her to know it's okay. He needs her to know she's not a bad person. She may have moved too fast than she should have, but it doesn't make her the monster she thinks she is.

Chelsea shrugs, "I don’t know, but I should have let him explain before I flipped out." She always finds ways to make herself the only bad guy in the situation.

"Well, everything's okay now, right? So let's not worry about it," he reassures her wanting things to just get back to normal. He needs her to settle her drama because he thinks he'll never get a chance to move on himself if he has to keep picking her back up.

Chelsea swallows her food before letting out a deep sigh. "Yea," she says sadly, "everything's ok now," knowing that it still isn't. As the words leave her mouth she hears someone clearing their throat behind her. All she has to do is look up at Travis' angry face to tell her who it is.

"Listen, I'm sorry to interrupt, but someone in your office said you'd be down here. I just wanted to talk to you -" Colson's weary voice is interrupted very quickly by an angry Travis.

"What is there to talk about?" Travis jumps out of his seat defensively. His hands are clenched and he's grinding his teeth as he stares Colson down. He's given him a fair warning last time they saw each other, he isn't standing back this time either.

"Woah, okay," Chelsea gets up and places a hand on Travis chest. For a second images of her running her fingers over his tattoos flood her mind before she's back in reality saying, "it's fine just sit down, and I'll be right back."

"Chelsea," Travis protests. Nothing good can come of this.

"I'll be right back, Travis," she tells him sternly before facing Colson. She places her hand on his back and guides him a few steps away from the table. "Good morning," she says before letting her arm fall back down to her side, "is everything okay?"

"I, uh, I don’t know. I was hoping you would have heard something by now," he says. His skinny arms are crossed over his chest, and his eyes are hopeful and pleading.

Chelsea nods, "why don’t you go up to Casie's room and see how she's doing, and I'll go see if there's any news, okay?"

"Yea," he says before turning away and walking out of the cafeteria without another world. Her heart clenches in her chest, and it hurts as she watches him walk away. It feels like he's was leaving all over again, and she hates it. His gait is unsteady, and his body is sinking to the ground from heaviness and fatigue; this must be a painful time.

Chelsea sighs as she walks back to Travis who looks nothing less than pissed. She picks up her tray, and he follows suit.

"What was that all about?" He asks curiously. He watches as she throws out the rest of her food, and when she says nothing he asks again. He thought mediating between her and Cole was in the past, and he doesn't want to do it anymore. What more can he do for her besides explicitly beg her to be with him? Well, that's the only thing he hasn't tried.

"Nothing, Travis," she says. She isn't really in the mood to fight with him too; it had been a long night, after all, and she knows if she says anything to Millie it'll just end in disaster. They get on the elevator together, and she pushes the number 3: the pediatrics floor. Thankfully the ride is short - she wouldn’t have been able to handle Travis' rapid fire questions for too long.

"What do you mean nothing, Chelsea? That was obviously something," he asks frantically as they step onto the floor. If she's seeing him again then he deserves to know.

She ignores him speed walking to the nurses' station. "Hi, do you have any results for 3011 Baker?" she asks the technician at the desk.

"Dr. Descarte?" the tech asks as she types on her keyboard vigorously.

"Yea," Chelsea confirms and watches as she pulls the newly printed sheets from the machine. "Thank you," she says as she takes them and turns to walk toward the room. Her eyes skim the page looking for the white blood cell count: 12000. That’s too fucking high - especially for a child. She flips the pages until she gets to the imaging analysis where she spots the dreadful words 'Impression: The above findings are consistent with early Ewing's Sarcoma localized in the right femoral regions'. Her heart drops.

"Are you gonna talk to me?" Travis' words echo through her mind as her body radiates with chills. She turns back around and sprints to the nurses' station, "I want the images." Her voice is demanding and unapologetic.

The tech looks up at her in confusion. "Im sorry -" she tries to explain before she's interrupted.

"I said I want the goddamn images," Chelsea reacts aggressively. These results must be wrong. They have to be. There's no way this is happening.

"Doctor, there's nothing I can do; you'll have to go down to Records and make a requ -" Chelsea doesn’t bother listening to the rest - she knows she won't get anything out of her. She spins around and treks back to the room with a million thoughts running through her head. What the fuck is she going to tell Colson?

"Chelsea?" Travis' voice nags at her again.

"No, I'm not going to fucking talk to you, Travis, drop it!" she yells at him before knocking on the door. She doesn't mean to take this out on him, but he's the only one around.

Travis rolls his eyes at her and follows her into the room. When he spots Casie sleeping on the hospital bed he understands. He runs his hand over his face with a sigh before stepping back out to wait for her. He doesn't know how she managed to get herself in this fucking mess, or how the fuck he's going to help her get out of it.

"Are they back?" Colson gets up to ask. Like a good father he is anxious to know what's going on with his little girl.

Chelsea sighs as her eyes flutter over to the small sleeping body on the hospital bed. Casie is in a little pink dress that's mostly covered by a blanket heavily decorated with unicorns. Her relaxed arms are wrapped around an old teddy bear as she sleeps comfortably. "Have a seat Mr. Baker," she instructs him as she redirects her attention back to the man in front of her. He raises his eyebrow at her and watches as she takes the seat next to him.

"Mr. Baker," she starts. She doesn't know how to get it out.

"Just say it, Chels," he tells her. He's waited long enough and doesn't want to beat around the bush.

"She has bone cancer, Colson," she says. She says to just say it. There is no other way. Anyway the words left they'd be just as devastating.

Colson's face contorts in confusion. "What? How?" He doesn't want to believe it.

"I'm so sorry, Colson, I'll give you some time," she stands and walks toward the door to leave.

"Chelsea," he calls after her desperately. She stops and turns around to look at him. He's already crying, and he's already scared. She doesn't know what to say so she just stares and waits. He hurriedly steps towards her and throws his arms around her shoulders. Before she knows it his face is buried in the crook of her neck, and the tears are pouring down like rain as he grasps her tighter and tighter. His sobs are painful, and she can't help but feel herself drown in jealousy, and agony, and love.

Chelsea wraps her arms around him, "it's gonna be okay, Colson, it's gonna be okay. You gotta be strong, and you gotta have faith in your little girl," she tells him as she rubs his back, "she can fight this." She sounds so convincing she may have even believed it herself. She doesn't know how to fix this for him. She wants to say sorry. She wants to apologize for ever leaving him because if she didn't, then maybe he wouldn't be here in this situation. She wants to tell him she loves because she does. His pain is painful for her. She wishes she could take it all away.

Cole finally nods and pulls away wiping his eyes quickly before saying, "you're right." He has to be strong, if only for Casie.

"I'll give you a few minutes, and then I'll be back to talk about treatment, okay?" Chelsea asks, and he nods in response. She lets out a sigh and walks back out to an anxious Travis.

"You can't take this case, Chelsea," he tells her with his arms crossed and his face frowning. He's sighing and laughing and pacing all at once. He knows this is trouble. She's digging herself into a hole he's scared she won't be able to come back out of.

"Really, Travis? You're gonna give me that shit too?" she rolls her eyes. She's been too overwhelmed by emotions lately, and she just can't handle anymore. Travis should know better.

"What are you talking about?" he doesn't understand. He's worried for her. Why couldn't she see? Why is she always so blinded by Colson?

"Adam. We got into a fight last night because I canceled our plans when Cole called with the emergency," she explains

"Oh, Chels," Travis sighs, "you can't keep doing this to yourself. You're always letting this dude walk all over you."

"Oh come the fuck on, Travis, what if that was your fucking kid, huh?" she raises her voice. She's tired of everyone telling her what she should do.

"That's different," Travis argues.

"No, it's not. A patient is a patient. Everyone gets equal rights to treatment - something you and my husband fail to understand," she shouts before taking the stairs up to her office.

"It's not equal if you're jumping through fucking hoops to help him," Travis defends as he struggles to keep up with her.

"This is not about Colson, Travis, this is about that little girl," Chelsea is trying to defend her actions, but every words that comes out of Travis' mouth seems to make more sense.

"Then why are you so worked up over it?" he's accusing her cautiously.

"Because a four year old could be on her death bed right now, and it's like none of you seem to care!" Why isn't she allowed to feel, goddamn it?!

"Chelsea!" Travis is chasing after her. How is she faster even with those damn heels on?

"No, just leave me the fuck alone," she says as she takes the next exit and slams the door in his face.

Chelsea runs to the nearest bathroom and lets out a deep breath as she looks at herself in the mirror. It's been a long week for her, and it sure shows. She can’t believe it. Cole's little girl - she could die. Why is this hurting her so much? Seeing Colson cry so hard is new to her, and she feels horrible to admit that it makes her jealous. Why couldn’t he care about her as much as he cares about this little girl? She has to remind herself that it's his daughter, and Chelsea knows that if it were hers she would give up her life for the sake of her child. Even after all the ways he had hurt her, Chelsea can’t stand to see Colson in so much pain. All she knows is that she has to help, and she won’t let anyone convince her otherwise.

Chelsea leaves the bathroom and proceedes back down to Casie's room. As she's about to walk in she notices Colson holding her little hand. She watches them, and all she can think about is how she wishe she could be in there comforting him - not as a friend, but as his girlfriend, maybe even his wife. She sighs and rolls her eyes. She hates to admit that the two men in her life were right: she can’t handle this. She's fooling herself into thinking that she's strong enough, but there is no middle ground that can be reached with Cole. It's either all or nothing, and Chelsea has to wake the fuck up.

She turns back around and takes the elevator, then proceedes up to her office knocking on the door before entering.

"Ah, Descarte, you are back so soon?" Goltsiker jokes. His Russian accent is unmistakable.

"Doctor, I have a case for you," she hands him the file and waits as he looks it over.

"This is perfect opportunity for you, Descarte, why do you give it to me?" He's curious. Neither of them are pediatric oncologists, but this is a rare opportunity if he'd ever seen it.

"It's a conflict of interest, sir," she admits to him avoiding eye contact with both him and Federico.

"I see," he responds watching her closely as he hands the file over to her co-worker who gladly takes it eager to see what made the case so special.

"Please, do everything you can to help," she begs. Though she's distancing herself, it's still incredibly important for her, and she knew no one better suited for the case than her attending. This must be the right thing because the right thing is usually hard to do, and this is fucking brutal. She promised she would help, and she is convinced that this is a way of helping - Goltsiker is one of the best oncologists in the city.

Federico looks up at her noting the desperation in her voice. Chelsea used to be so strong and now here she is crumbling right before his eyes. He wonders what happened to her. Before all the wedding talk she was so carefree, and now he's wondering if he'd be crossing the line if he recommended his therapist to her.

"We'll see to it," Goltsiker answers, and Chelsea turns to leave content with the response.

"Descarte!" The old man calls after her without any hesitation.

She turns back to look at him with a knowing smile on her face.

"You be here tomorrow morning, ok?" His grin is wide as the words leave his lips.

Chelsea nods and lets out a small laugh before walking out of the office. Her posture is slouched, her walk is sad, and her body is tired. She needs to stop wanting to be there for Colson. She needs to stop wanting Colson. And though she regrets it, not treating his daughter is a part of moving on.