The sharp scent of antiseptic had long become background noise to Cassian, but today it felt suffocating. The overhead lights buzzed faintly, heart monitors blinked like distant lighthouses in a storm.
He'd been standing at the end of the corridor, sipping burnt coffee that had long gone cold when the commotion erupted. The sliding doors flung open. A nurse screamed down the hallway—"We need trauma—NOW!"
Cassian didn't think. He sprinted toward the gurney, chart forgotten, coffee crashing to the floor.
And then he saw him.
Blood. So much of it. Dripping from the corners of Elias's mouth. His clothes shredded. Bruises. Slashes. His face, so pale, so still. His curls matted with blood.
The world tilted.
"No," Cassian whispered. "No, no, no—Elias?"
He pushed past the others. Hands steady, heart breaking.
"I'm taking over. Let's move—OR two, now!"
"But Dr. West—"
"I said NOW!" Cassian's voice cracked like a whip. He pressed two fingers to Elias's neck. Weak pulse. Fading.
How? How could this happen?
He felt the tremble under his skin, threatening to unravel him.
But Elias needed him. Not a wreck. Not a man in love. A surgeon.
Cassian swallowed it all down.
They wheeled Elias into the operating room. Cassian barked out instructions as he scrubbed in. Nurses moved with military precision. Vitals flatlined for half a second. He didn't flinch.
He survived Damien. He survived this long. You're not dying on me now.
As he cut open the shirt, he saw the stab wounds—three of them—one close to the lung.
"Collapsed lung," he said. "We need a thoracostomy tube. Now."
Blood sprayed as he cut, but his hands were unshakable. All the while, his mind screamed.
Why wasn't I there? Why didn't I protect him?
Another nurse handed him suction. The heart monitor gave an ominous dip.
"BP's dropping!"
"Clamp that artery—no, left—pressure! Suction! I need more light!"
Cassian's sweat dripped into his mask. The monitor wailed. Someone gasped.
"Flatline—"
"No," Cassian growled. "No, no. I'm not letting him go."
And then—he saw it. In that stillness. A flicker of memory.
—
Elias, sitting across from him in the hospital garden, nervously nibbling at a muffin.
"Why do you always look at me like that?" Elias had asked.
Cassian had smiled, softly. "Because I want you to see yourself the way I do. Not broken. Not trapped. Just… free."
—
The defibrillator paddles were pressed into his hands.
He hesitated.
Let me be your calm, not your storm.
But if I lose you now, I'll never forgive myself.
"Clear!"
The jolt hit Elias's chest.
Nothing.
Again. "Clear!"
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The room exhaled as one.
Pulse returned. Weak, but there.
Cassian didn't move.
"Doctor?" the nurse whispered.
Cassian's hands were bloody. His mask soaked. But his voice was calm.
"We're not done. He's not safe yet. But I've got him."
---
Flashback – Cassian (earlier that morning)
He'd been looking out at the sunrise from the rooftop of the hospital, unable to sleep.
It had been days since he last saw Elias, and something hadn't felt right.
He'd let him go. Let Damien win. Because Elias had made his choice… right?
Except it never felt like a choice.
Cassian had seen the bruises. Not all of them physical. He knew the weight Damien put on Elias—the obsessive hold, the manipulation buried under twisted declarations of love.
"Let me save you," Cassian had once told Elias.
But he didn't get the chance.
Not until now.
---
Back in the present – ICU
Elias was stabilized. Barely. Hooked to machines, face bandaged, chest rising shallowly. But he was alive.
Cassian sat beside him, his hands trembling now that the adrenaline was gone. He gently reached out, brushing Elias's knuckles with his fingertips.
"You held on," he whispered. "You damn stubborn idiot."
His voice cracked.
"Please... please don't give up now."
Cassian's eyes closed. His heart had never ached this much.
_______
The hallway outside the ICU felt like a tomb. Cold. Silent. Just one door between Cassian and the boy he almost lost.
He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, blood still under his nails despite scrubbing twice.
He had to call Elias's family.
The real ones. The ones who never showed up, never looked for him. He clenched his jaw.
"Secretary," he called out quietly at the nurse's desk. "I need emergency contact info for Elias Vale. Parents, legal guardians—whoever's listed."
The woman nodded, picking up the phone. Cassian barely heard her. He was too focused on the scream building behind his ribs.
That's when the elevator dinged.
Boots hit the tile. Sharp. Measured. Familiar.
Cassian's eyes snapped up.
Damien .
Blood still on his shirt. Dried at the collar.
Cassian's heart dropped.
"You shouldn't be here," he said sharply.
Damien didn't blink. "I'm here for Elias."
Cassian stepped in front of him. "You've done enough."
The hallway turned into a battlefield.
"You promised me," Cassian said, voice rising. "You swore you'd protect him."
Damien's face twitched. "I did everything I could—"
"Everything you could?" Cassian snapped. "He came in barely breathing, Damien! His body torn up like an animal—stab wounds, broken ribs, concussion. Where were you?"
Damien's mask of control cracked, just slightly. "I got there too late."
"Too late?" Cassian shoved him. "You don't get to be too late! You're the reason he's in this hell to begin with!"
Damien stepped forward, inches from Cassian. "Watch your mouth."
"No. No, I won't. Because you—" Cassian's chest heaved. "You claimed to love him. You kept him, broke him, obsessed over him. And now he's in there fighting for his life!"
They were nose to nose now, rage thick in the air.
"You think I don't hate myself enough already?" Damien's voice was a growl. "I've killed for him. Burned bridges. Lost my name. I warned him not to trust anyone."
Cassian's fist clenched. "You don't get to play martyr. You don't get to act like the victim."
Damien's voice was low, bitter. "You don't know the half of what I've lost."
"No, but I see what he's lost. He was a kid, Damien."
Silence.
Then—Damien looked away. A flicker of guilt. Of something deeper.
Cassian stepped back, breathing hard. "He's better off without you."
Damien didn't answer. His eyes flicked toward the ICU door.
Cassian blocked his path again.
"You go near him," he said, "and I'll have you removed."
Damien's fists trembled at his sides. But he nodded once. Sharp. Like a man accepting exile.
Then he turned and walked down the hallway, disappearing into the shadows.
Cassian stood alone. Shaking.
---
Later That Night
Cassian leaned on the railing outside the ward, dialing the emergency contact number listed on Elias's file.
A woman picked up on the third ring.
"This is Dr. Cassian Rowe. Elias Vale was brought in tonight in critical condition. I need to speak with his legal guardians immediately."
There was silence.
Then a soft voice:
"We're his grandparents. We're on our way."
Cassian's brow furrowed. "Grandparents? Not his parents?"
The line clicked.
Cassian stared at his phone.
What the hell is going on?
---
Back inside the hospital...
As Cassian stepped back toward the ICU, a nurse rushed to him with a concerned look.
"There was a man near Elias's room," she whispered. "He was just… watching. Then he disappeared when we got close."
Cassian's blood ran cold.
A burner phone hidden beneath a jacket vibrated silently in the corner of the nurses' station.
A text glowed on its cracked screen:
"Let the doctor scream and the killer grieve. I'll be coming back for what's mine."