Emily keeps her eyes on Harmon – the resident sits with his leg tucked under him, and the cigarette, which he had already pulled from behind his ear, flickers in his fingers like a coin.

– So they got him up, woke him up, you know, right? There were six of the younger guys standing around, watching, and the anesthesiologist, and the surgeon, and Clark, and everyone was standing there, and the patient just started to break out – he was all jammed up, panicking, screaming, so he was screaming, he grabbed his arms – and he broke away. And the nurse, who was supposed to give him an injection to calm him down, did not do it, because she thought that he could not. He's got an open brain, you know, what could have happened, you know, Johnson, that's what she thought. In fact, nothing would have happened if she had calmed him down, but then, look, he broke loose and knocked out a pin, you know, a fastening pin. And Clark was standing there with the electrode, and he couldn't remove it, and Gilmore was busy holding the clamp. There was a lot of blood, you couldn't see it, a lot, a lot! It flowed everywhere, even on the walls, can you imagine? So the pin fell out, Gilmore jerked, and Clark followed him. And then it was all a blur – they burned some important center, the square where the seven centimeters were, and that was it, he couldn't get up anymore. So Clark was sued right away, saying she was a lousy surgeon, Gilmore, too; the whole staff went there, all together; they all got to know each other, Kemp and Gilmore, and Neil and them, too; Ray stood up for them, saying it was not their fault that the nurse had given the wrong drugs before the operation, and then she didn't know what to do, but she was different, a completely different person, yeah. Of the six people who were there, they all got fired, so. All the junior staff, yeah. And Mel was in charge after that, yes, in charge, she was the only one who had any sense at the time, yes. It was such a mess, yes, a mess, a real mess. Nobody understood a thing, everybody was shouting, only Clark and Gilmore were standing there, holding their instruments.

– After that," the cigarette disappears into his breast pocket, "Clark doesn't trust anybody. And now Ray's dead, there's no telling what's gonna happen to her, he was like a father to her, everyone knows that, yeah. He saw something in her that nobody else saw, you know, Johnson? It happens, yes, somebody sees you better than others, yes, Johnson, remember that, write it down, sketch it out. If you meet one, take care, yes, you see, but Clark didn't. – He sighs.

There is almost no one left in the room, the sounds fade, the rain stops, and Emily, clutching her fingers in a red mug, presses her lips together.

– I… Thank you," she says on an exhale.

– Drop it. – Harmon stands up, grunting. – I know you won't tell, and yes, you can't promise. Now get your coat on and get to work. Yes," he finishes. – Work. I'm going to sleep now…

* * *

The waiting room is so crowded you could suffocate; the smells of chlorine and blood create a hellish mixture. Doctors and nurses rushed back and forth, paramedics' blue suits flashing, sirens howling from the street. Emily huddles against the wall, missing the gurney with the bloody mess, and then someone pulls her hard and painfully against herself by the collar of her robe.

Emily flails her arms awkwardly, but she doesn't fall, and she hears a low laugh behind her. She turns around and sees Gilmore in his surgical suit, leaning against the wall, chuckling softly; his red hair looks like living fire in the light of the cold lamps.

– What's going on? – Emily spins around herself, trying to look around: gurneys everywhere, the air filled with groans, someone shouting into the phone. In the midst of this chaos, the relaxed Gilmore is a veritable island of calm and serenity.

– Southwark Bridge," explains the surgeon. – One decided to go around traffic, another was showing his lady a nighttime drift, and a third braked too sharply. Some of the cars are in nothing, a few are still swimming, the rest are here. Well, the ones who need us.

The loudspeakers explode with names and operating room numbers; Emily hears Clark's last name, and then Davis, the second surgeon, apparently called in from his day off, whizzes past.

– Go to trauma, Johnson," Gilmore says, still too calmly. – Clark's waiting for me.

Emily twitches.

– Aren't we supposed to…

– Tu." Gilmore abruptly turns around and walks toward the elevator. – It's Davis on the bones tonight. And Neil will be here soon. – He's yawning. – They didn't call everyone in for nothing.

– But didn't…

– Take it easy. – Gilmore holds the door. – Clark's a smart guy, but I don't think he and Dylan can do it alone. But who knows? Who knows?

– But there's more people in there. – Emily exclaims, trying to somehow object; Gilmore seems to her the kind of angel savior she can't do without.

The surgeon gives her a strange look: a mixture of pity, understanding, and interest; then he chuckles without answering, and Emily is ashamed: Gilmore is not the only surgeon in the hospital, there are others in other departments, and by now they must all be gathered in the waiting room. And she panics.

So when Riley hides behind the iron doors, Emily doesn't get upset – after all, she has no authority to be in the operating room, and no one has really called her there; but now she has a purpose. It comes out of nowhere, braids a web of ideas, settles in her head and heart, capturing the best places.

To prove Clark wrong.

And while Emily is endlessly bandaging, stitching, putting in IVs and filling out forms, her brain is frantically trying to think of things to do. Her hands work separately from hers, as if on autopilot, highlighting the damaged areas, and all her thoughts revolve around how to get in Clark's field of vision and – the hardest part – stay there.

But you have to stop being invisible in order to be noticed, right?

Emily puts on the last stitch and lets the victim go; she runs through her options in her head: she's not going to faint during surgeries, she doesn't have outstanding surgical skills, and she can't impress Clark with her abilities, either.

"You never know what would happen, so, you know, yeah, Johnson, that's what she thought…"

That's what she thought.

Emily starts blinking rapidly at the sudden idea, scolding herself for not figuring it out right away. Of course Clark needs a brain; and not just in the patient, but in the staff as well. And the nurse who accompanies her to the surgeries certainly must not be stupid.

About how to get into the operating room with Clark, Emily does not have time to think: everything around her is happening too fast.

A man bursts into the tiny dressing room – his body covered in blood mixed with shards of glass, his hair disheveled and soaked in gasoline, his clothes torn into a thousand scraps of scraps that are bound together.