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blugnettabutterflies · 1 year ago

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Waiting room.

Spoilers from Season 5, Case 52.

( @ccornersstone hehe)

Waiting rooms are something that a lot of people call a surreal kind of experience, from the moment they walk in to the moment they get out, depending on their experience. Each person who enters that place feels a sensation or emotion, and those are usually multiplied by a hundred. Whether it is anxiety, fear, happiness, dread… sometimes anger and joy are mixed together into a mess that no one can truly understand. All of them cope in different ways, some pace around the room, some overthink, some are trying to keep calm, and some pray. Others just shut down and feel nothing.

Others, is a mix of two or three. And others are just everything at once.

The only feeling that bring all the strangers together, is the feeling of ambiguity. An uncertain sensation, where you can just wait and hope for the best outcome.

That’s the same feeling Gloria, Gabriel, Amir and Player were feeling inside of that waiting room.

It’s only been a few minutes since they last knew about their partner. For all of them, it feels like hours. Eternal hours.

They all remember the moment vividly. He is up, then he is on the ground, and someone is calling 911. The ambulance came while someone was giving air to him on mouth-to-mouth technique, and that person was pushed away by the paramedics, so they can do what they have to do.

The rest is a blur. Some went on a car, and one of them went on an ambulance.

Gabriel remembers having the pill bottle in his hand, and still can’t wrap his head around it.

Gloria remembers driving, and still can’t wrap her head around it.

Amir and Player are in the back of the car, and both still can’t wrap their head around it.

Getting in the hospital was also a blur. They don’t remember when they got out of their respective car, and ran to the hospital. They don’t remember the time, or who they talked to. They don’t even remember the day, if it was tomorrow or yesterday.

But there they are, at the waiting room. And yet they can’t still wrap their head around what happened.

----

Amir is pacing around. He knows that if he sits down, his leg will start trembling. He is thinking and thinking of every outcome possible.

“He will be okay, there’s a chance that the overdose wouldn’t be so bad. It was just respiratory depression, no slow heartbeat…”

Or maybe the heart palpitations were getting slower when the ambulance came. He doesn’t remember if the person giving the respiratory procedure stopped before. He doesn’t remember how many minutes he was left without air.

Respiratory depression over an overdose can cause brain damage. Benzodiazepines can cause multiple organ failure, and can kill you fast, depending on the drug. And that depends of the time it lasts on the body, the action time, the lasting time...

He wasn’t in time. Just like with Rupert, he wasn’t there to stop it. All he could hear was his Chief yelling for someone to bring a gurney or an oxygen mask or something. He called 911. It’s all he could do. Giving shaky and very shocked answers, as he enters the room and sees his body, being surrounded by people he knew and talked with. He doesn’t remember what he said, but by the very blurred memory of it, he was as frantic as he was now. Maybe a lot more, he can’t tell.

He can’t lose another member. He can’t lose another friend. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he does it, with how much he knew about science and chemistry, he should have known about the chemical imbalance that the body has when they experience someone’s death. It destroys you. He knows it does, he has been there, he knows it first-hand.

Then why didn’t he see the same imbalance? Why didn’t he see that? He could have stopped it.

“This is not about you Amir not now, not now; he is right now being intubated. If the Benzodiazepines were pure, he can be given Flumazenil and will start breathing in due time. Its’ protocol, every 15 second it has to be given 0.1 milligrams of that until the minute passes. He will start breathing. He has to it's …”

The overdose. He could try to ask the doctor or whoever is at charge, once it’s due. Is he at the Emergency Room? Did he pass to the Intense Care Unit? He has to know this he is the Lab Chief. He should know this. He has to know if Gabriel’s medication doesn’t have an opioid involved.

Why he doesn’t know this? He has to know, because he would know what to do. And he thinks he knows what to do because he is okay. He is going to breathe; he is not declared dead yet. Not even when benzodiazepine overdose is one of the main causes on death in United states regarding suicide. Not even when organ failure can cause terrible consequences to his body, and that can result in death. Not even when even if he survives, there is a chance of brain damage. Even if it’s not as probably, but it can happen.

“He has to be okay. Right?” Is all he can think. But all of the outcomes are confusing. He can be alive, he can be dead right now, or in a few hours. Or he cannot talk with them anymore, or maybe he is in a comma where he is not going to ever wake up from, and he is a ventilator, forever. And they will have to say goodbye and disconnect. Or maybe he will not be like that, and will wake up, but in the mental exam he will be declared mentally unable, and will have to be out of the force, and being taken care of. Or maybe he will be okay, and act like nothing ever happened. Is that even possible?

All of those thoughts were mixed into a blender, he doesn’t know what the right answer is anymore. So, he can just walk, hoping those can organize it. Maybe he could call Jasper. Probably he has an answer.

Or maybe just to talk He wants to talk; his throat feels like it’s going to explode. But he is occupied, occupied at work, work that he was supposed to be there, and being useful not like here where he wasn’t and now his friend is being treated and they know anything about it. He can’t interrupt it. Can he?

No one sees it, but his eyes are full of tears. He is not speaking, nor yelling.

His train of thought is only interrupted when he trips as he tried to sit down because of Gloria who is still looking at the door, sitting. It’s all that she has been doing.

----

Looking. Looking everywhere. Looking at everyone.

She is waiting for someone to come out of there. No one has come out of there.

She is looking everywhere. Looking if someone can give her an answer as for why. If she missed a clue, or if someone is looking back, and tells them something they may have forgotten.

She was technically the newest in town, in relations of knowing him. Even Player had more knowledge.

But it feels like she met him for a while back, even if it was just a year ago. She knows how mad he can get when there’s injustice, how sad he could be when something hits him personally, and how irrational his actions sometimes are on a bad day… how many puns he can get he’s nervous and how bold and passionate he is towards his job, friends, love… everything. He is passionate.

Then when did she lose track at the moments, he stopped being passionate, when he became sadder, when he became angrier, and more irrational. Did anyone notice it at all?

She is supposed to be a mother. She is supposed to know where this kind of stuff happens, when suddenly someone changes their mood, meaning that there is something had happening. Then why didn’t she notice it?

She hopes she is able to see it on Carter because if she cant look at it on a grown man then-

“This is not about you Gloria, not now; maybe he just took a harsh decision?” Is all she tried to hope.

“What a stupid idea” it’s the next thought. A sudden decision. This is not a sudden decision. She has been taught the basics of depression, and depression is not sudden.

Its accumulation. Accumulation of feelings. And one day, they pop, they teach you that in courses to catch a teenager’s depression back in Chicago schools.

The moment was still fresh to her, she can still sees it. She was taking about Zoe, and suddenly he appeared. He should be with Gabriel. He wasn’t supposed to be there. He thanked everyone. His voice was cracking like glass and wobbly like jelly. He had eye bags from crying. His tie was untied, his hair looked like he just woke up from a nap.

And suddenly he had the pills. She didn’t react in time, when he said goodbye, saying how worthless he was, when he downed tall of the pills at once, and swallowed them all without even drinking water. (“Why is water so important now?”)

And at the brink of a moment, he was on the ground, with a loud thump. He probably has a bad bruise of that, no one was able to hold him. He fell flat. Chief Parker also saw it, and suddenly went to see his pulse.

There was a pulse. There was no breathing. His mouth was open and un-responsible. She has the idea of the hospital, and saw his chest wasn’t moving, but aside of that, she didn’t know what to do.

She only obeyed orders. Orders of activating a protocol, and waiting for the ambulance to come, as Parker yelled for someone to call 911. She saw how many people were entering the room, and how many were going in and out. It was all in stop motion, as she was slowly walking to the entrance of the precinct to wait for the ambulance to come, so she can guide them to the room.

Looking, waiting. It’s all she could do. Even now.

She is the only one who looks at the clock. She is the only one who knows the track of time. Carter is probably at her house by now, or he is walking there. He will be alone, probably for the rest of the day… maybe even night. Maybe her ex-husband will take care of him. She hasn’t told him that she is still at work. Is she even at work right now? This doesn’t feel like work.

She has to tell him. Yet she feels stuck.

There is more work to do. They still have no answer as for why Zoe was “levitating stuff” given by her killer’s word. What a stupid and selfish motive. For the news. To gain a star in the hall of fame.

Stupid, stupid, so stupid. She only could look at how stupid that stupid motive from that stupid person was. And yet she has to investigate that. She has to talk with him. She and Player. Both together have to ask.

She wonders how her Chief is doing. She didn’t want to go, because she had to still fill a protocol. “Work issues, I’ll meet you there later" were her words, but something tells her that she wanted to come. She is probably in her room. Maybe she is not phased? She looked worried.

Maybe she was. And has to push that away, for the sake of the job.

This job sucks. Sometimes, it does suck.

She looks again, this time to confirm If her seat mate was there. He’s still there, same position as he positioned himself ever since they got there.

Correction. Physically, he was there. Mentally , he was long gone.

-----

When the rest of the group were at the hospital, they already saw Gabriel seated at the chair. He was looking at the ground. He didn’t have the pill bottle in hand. But his hand gestures looked like he had them.

His last words were while seated in that chair. He said with a steady voice that he was admitted at the emergency room, and he had to stay there. That was the last time he looked to the rest, before giving a big sigh, and looking down.

His muscles are not hurting by the position of it, which is good and at the same time, bad. Good because it doesn’t hurt.

Bad because his back was actually hurting. But his mind was so immersed into a mind work world, that he couldn't feel it anymore.

His palms are open together, at times turning into a praying position. He is not so sure if he’s religious, or if anybody in that room is, but he found himself some solace into believing that some powerful superior sense would help them out, even if it’s a little push.

Maybe this is why he was acting so on line at the cult. Maybe he was used to this. He was able to trick his mind into it, believing in something that doesn’t have facts.

But that's only because that's something he can control. And this situation is something that got out of his control. He had it in control, he was supposed to control it.

Ever since he found himself comforting him at the psych hospital, while keeping him away from the body of his deceased loved one, he knew that he had to be in control of this.

He had to. He was he one capable to medicate him enough so he would stop crying and would rest his aching body.

He had to pay attention to it multiple times. He slipped up one time and suddenly he was in the main room, promising to bring hell upon the killer, grabbing someone’s collar to the point of breaking down. He had to be more careful and more in control than ever.

So it wasn’t a surprised that his panic heavily increased when he found that his medicine cabinet was open.

And his pills weren't there.

It was only a matter to connect the dots to realize what the screaming was about second later.

He just went to the bathroom.

He tried to look for the empty bottle, on the ground. And he froze when he found it. Because it's all he could do. Freeze, while thinking how out of control this situation got, and that he has no power to change things drastically like with a pill to calm the nervous system.

He is supposed to be the calm one, and he is showing it. But his mind is screaming, yelling that he is not prepared enough that he let the moment go. Those thoughts didn’t go away, not when the ambulance came, nor when he was sitting and answering the questions, nor when he passed the empty bottle and stayed outside waiting for the rest.

When he studied psychology, and got himself to be a profiler, it was so he could be unprepared for everything. Every symptom is measurable, every change into their behavior can be put into a criteria. And you can learn the criteria, and know what to do because you became prepared.

But he didn’t know what to do.

"This is not about you, Gabriel. But it's your fault if he dies."

Everyone has some fault. He showed so many signs, so many events where they could have prevented it. So many criteria fitting into Major depression. The loneliness feeling, the irrational thinking, the despair and possible suicidal thoughts… all in more than 6 months.

Was there overeating? He does… all the time unless…

Everything was there. He didn’t see it, and it was RIGHT THERE.

He can sense his body growing tense by the minute, how all of the guilty thoughts were increasing in his mind, how he could have prevented it. He knew that Benzodiazepines take away the 4th Phase of REM sleep, he knew that he would get cranky and irritable, why did he keep giving them?! Why he left to the bathroom knowing that Gloria and Player found out who killed her?! Why he didn’t lock the cabinet AND WHY SINCE HE KNEW HE KNOWS LOCK PICKING HE KEPT THE PILLS AT THE CABINET AND BOT WITH HIM WHY WHY WHY-?!

“David Jones?”

Suddenly his ear senses come back. And just in time. Everyone heard it.

“David Jones?!” the voice sounds again.

Amir stops his pace, and Gloria looks. Gabriel tries to compose himself, and gets up. He is the controlled one. He is the one at the ambulance, who told everything.

So he is the one who will know what happened. While he walks, he sees Player, making what it appears to be, a call.

----

He can only imagine how Player is feeling. They both know each other for a while. More than anyone else in that room.

And yet, Player wasn’t able to see the signs, like him. The sudden signs. He bets that Player feels guilty.

Player is just at the phone, and is looking at the door. Is calling someone, probably one of his parents. Probably Ramirez, so he could know the news?

Is it even good to call like that? He can still turn out ok, probably the dose he took wasn’t that bad. Gabriel is hopeful.

Not the same can be said of Player. They are indeed calling someone. It’s all they have been doing. Calling, acting, trying to keep themselves on the ground.

Is all they can do. When was having his anger moments, or sad moments, or moments he could joke at the job, they were the anchor to keep him on the ground. It worker with him, it worked with Gloria, Rita, Amir, everyone. It was always them. The one who had to act up, the one who couldn’t shed tears at the very moment.

And yet there they were. Trying to keep themselves on the ground, because they knew that they were tearing up. Trying to this time, act up, not like last time, that they didn’t yanked the pills away, nor grabbed him when he was falling, or giving the breathing technique. Chief Parker did that. Not them. All they could think, just like the other 2… 3 times… Is trying to keep themselves collected because they were at work.

But this wasn’t work. Unlike Gloria, Player is sure of it. This can't be work.

But they cant cry. They cant bring themselves to tears when at any moment they would have to run, if he needs help or if he needs an antidote.

They don’t remember the name of he antidote. They don’t know the name.

They should have known better. It’s what some person, some young psychology student once said. He's a kettle boiling up. They knew they could explode. But didn’t know how. They should have know, when kettles boil you have the chance to turn off the fire before it runs out of water, and the metal starts melting, damaging itself.

That teenager was right. The whole time. And they didn’t listen.

Someone answered to Player’s call, and that someone is getting the news. That someone is freaking out. Is asking with panic how did his happen? No one truly knows.

Yet Player still gives the rundown. And the person tells them to keep them updated, still sounding like they will cry at the ambiguity.

Player stops the call, giving a long sigh.

Worse case scenario.

“This is not about you, Player. Control yourself, you have to make a solution. Because he is not fine. He is dying. This is about him.”

Another long sigh, and comes back to the group.

At the same times, Gabriel comes back as well from talking to the doctor. His face doesn’t inspire hope.

“I’ve spoken to the doctors about Jones condition…”

...

"And it's not good."

...

Worst Case Scenario.

He’s not getting out of the door.