DESTINED AFFECTION

ELEVEN

"So this isn't so bad, right?" Ally indicated the x-ray with a tip of her chin.

"I suppose that's a matter of definition." Lauren gave a short, mirthless laugh. "She has a potentially lethal condition which is poorly controlled at the moment, and she's twenty-eight fucking years old. God." She closed her eyes, and all she could see was the brunette. Those brilliant eyes, that mesmerizing grin, those incredible hands. In a whisper, she asked of no one, expecting no answer, "Why is life so unfair?"

Ally heard the anguish in her friend's voice, appreciating that it wasn't just about Camila. Lauren had lost her lover, and whether she knew it or not, wanted it or not, she already cared about the brunette doctor. And right now, Lauren was struggling with past pain and present fear all at once, a fight that was too much for anyone. Ally slid her arm around Lauren's waist, giving her a little shake even as she hugged her comfortingly. "Honey, you know better than to ask that. Thinking that way around here will make you crazy."

Lauren leaned her cheek against Ally's shoulder and laughed shakily, "Yeah, I know, I'm just tired, I guess."

"Understandable. It's been a hell of an afternoon." She kissed Lauren's forehead fleetingly. "So, where's Camila right now?"

"In three. I wanted to admit her, but she's refusing. God, she's stubborn."

Ally grinned, happy to hear the irritation creep into Lauren's voice. Better. "Gee whiz, a surgeon who's stubborn? How about that. I even know some ER chiefs who are just a little bit obstinate."

Lauren glared at Ally, but just having her there was helping. She wasn't entirely certain what it was about Camila's underlying condition that had thrown her so badly. She didn't seem to be able to sort things out clearly; all she felt was a sense of panic that was clouding her judgment. And that was totally unlike her. "Do you have something constructive to add to this situation, or do you just intend to heckle me for the rest of the day?"

Much better. "Why do you want to admit her?"

"Because she hasn't had proper monitoring for weeks, and she told me that the defibrillator has discharged as recently as two days ago!" Lauren's voice rose as the fear threatened to re-emerge. "Do you want her to drop dead?"

"Of course not," Ally said softly, not taking offense at Lauren's tone. She knew her friend well enough to know that this wasn't Lauren. At least not Lauren when she wasn't terrified. "You're getting a rhythm trace, right?"

"Yes, it should be done by now."

"Okay. Do you want her to have a sling for the shoulder?"

Lauren rubbed her forehead, considering priorities. Her brain still felt sluggish, but the tightness in her chest was easing now that she had something to focus on besides the shock of seeing that scar on Camila's chest and what lay underneath. "For a day or two. She shouldn't be immobilized any longer than that, because adhesions will develop around the shoulder joint. Motion is actually good for it."

"Right. I'll get her fixed up with the shoulder immobilizer while you review the EKG. If that looks okay, what do you say about her spending the night with Perrie and me?"

"At your place?"

"Why not?" Ally shrugged. "If her heart's okay, she really doesn't need to be admitted, right?"

"Not for the shoulder injury, no."

"But she lives by herself, and neither of us would feel very comfortable letting her go home alone. We've got room."

"All right." Lauren smiled fondly. "I'm sorry I jumped on you. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Ally squeezed her hand. "I know you don't mean it so let's get Camila squared away. That way, when you figure out what's scaring you, you just might be able to handle it."