He came closer as she tried and failed to rouse the man. The hunter only stopped when he was near them, looking down at the sleeping bearded face. "It's no use. We have to go. We have to stay ahead of them. You're not safe here--she saw him, she must have. She'll be here soon." He turned his gaze toward the field beyond the trees, a faint scowl on his face as he tried to pick apart the moving grass and whatever else might have been hiding among it. The bow came up a few inches. "There, through the grass. Speak of the devil... hurry, Erin. Hurry back home."<br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/>"Alek plainly thinks I'm crazy for coming in like this," he told her quietly. "He had this look on his face like I was grasping at straws. He's entitled to his opinion, y'know, but... I dunno. He can give up on you if he wants. What I'm more worried about is if he tells Hooke I'm here already. The last thing I want is another confrontation with her about 'decorum' and 'what's right'." Chris scratched at his chin, grimacing at the sandpapery feel of his own skin. "On the upside, I'm starting to grow a beard, so you'll finally have your hairy logger man that you always wanted." He smiled at her, and in his mind he could almost see her smile back.<br/><br/>His attention was drawn back to the door, a shadow moving past the glass, the low murmur of voices. His hand tightened on hers. "Ah, fuck. Speak of the devil." He looked back to her and sighed softly. "Hurry, Erin. Hurry back home." He leaned over to kiss her forehead and stood as the door opened and<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2F41zxbw463fq733z1kl101n01-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2015%2F09%2FHelen-Mirren-feature.jpg&amp;hash=3e5ca363789d00fb23e8c50b62048f9c" href="https://41zxbw463fq733z1kl101n01-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Helen-Mirren-feature.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Madelyn Hooke</a>entered. Of all the other doctors in the building, Chris found her the most disagreeable. Where he would recommend surgery, she would prescribe medicine. Where he would advise one more night, she would push for immediate release. It didn't help that she never once seemed out of line. Her voice was soft and her tone reasonable, a sort of adopted personality that quietly assumed she must<i>certainly</i>be correct. Insisting otherwise would not be wise. Worst of all, in his mind, she referred to everyone as 'my dear'.<br/><br/>As she stepped in he folded his arms. Her blue eyes flickered from his face to the patient's, then back to him. "You shouldn't be here, Christopher," she said quietly, and he felt his eyes go cold on her.<br/><br/>"I should be wherever I choose to be, Madelyn. She's my patient, after all, is she not?"<br/><br/>"For the time being. But you're hardly the one most qualified to treat her." She paced to the foot of the bed to check Erin's charts, her head tilting slightly. "Most neurologists don't specialize in coma patients, do they, dear?" she asked, glancing briefly at Chris. He shrugged.<br/><br/>"Most witches live in bogs, but here you are," he shot back. Chris knew he should be more careful, but Madelyn had always known how to press his buttons even without knowing what they were. His comment hit home all the same; her back stiffened, and she replaced the chart slowly.<br/><br/>She folded her hands into the pockets of her white coat as she paced back around the bed to stand in front of him. Her eyes met his unflinchingly and searched, deep and uncomfortably hard. "What happened to her is not your fault. And you are not responsible for her now."<br/><br/>"She's my fiance--"<br/><br/>"<i>Might</i>have been. There is no ring on her finger, no certificate signed by her hand. Christopher, you are too close to this. You cannot be impartial enough to be effective." She paused and tilted her head, her voice going even more soft. "What will happen the day her family signs the form to terminate life support? Will you steal her away? Abduct her and the equipment? How tightly will you cling before you can be convinced to let go?" She held his gaze for a moment before she broke away and returned to the door. Madelyn pulled it half open, then looked back at him. "I'll forgive your outburst this time, Christopher. But really, I have to insist that you look in on your other patients. Erin is not your only concern, my dear."<br/><br/>She stepped out and left Chris there to seethe. Always with the last word. He sat back down heavily and glanced at the comatose woman next to him, then shook his head and covered his face with both hands. "I really do hate that woman. I really, really do." He exhaled sharply, then slapped his hands onto his knees and pulled over the paperwork again. "Ah, right. I've got a message here from your sister. She says she's going to come visit a little later, and that she's going to bring your favorite snack... or at least what she thinks are your favorite. So there's... there's something to look forward to." He closed his eyes as all the frustration and grief and fear grabbed him by the throat, his breath catching sharply.<br/><br/>"Fucking Madelyn," he whispered, trying to take deep breaths. "Fucking cruel old... British... asshole." He turned back toward the bed and took her hand again, his head bowed, thumb running across her knuckles. "I need you to wake up, Erin. As soon as you can. I'll do whatever it takes, just... please. Just show Maddy Hooke that you aren't going to roll over and die like she hopes you will. Prove her wrong for<i>once</i>in her worthless career."