Code Blue

~ Chapter 70 ~

The rage I had towards the entire situation began to show in my actions, my right hand beginning to scrub my left one with more pressure. The soap bubbled up at a pace faster than before as I vigorously rubbed the surface, symbolizing the anger I had inside me. Now I wasn't just washing away Mallory's blood, I was trying to wash away the feelings, the hurt she had, and the memory of her dying in front of me.

My hands continued to tirelessly scrub one another, with more force and pressure than the second before. Maybe, just maybe, if I did it hard enough the vision of her in pain would disappear as well. If her blood was no longer staining my skin, then perhaps I could tell myself that she was okay and nothing was wrong, even if the hope only lasted for a second or two.

My eyes never looked up, refusing to stare back at myself broken in the mirror. I feared that the exhaustion that felt permanently etched on my face would finally be replaced with something else, something much worse. Instead, I stayed zeroed in on my hands, noticing that the water was finally becoming clear again.

But I couldn't stop scrubbing.

Even with my hands shaking in front of me, I persisted in making them as clean as can be. As a surgeon, I'm used to forcefully cleaning my hands to make sure they're sterile before I step into that operating room. We're trained to powerfully scrub for several minutes until we can be sure there's nothing left, so it's not like this is something new to me. However the feeling I had in my stomach was anything but familiar. Typically, in front of the sink I'm calm. My head is focused, I leave all my distractions outside of the scrub room, and I'm ready to be my best self in that OR.

Right now, I was the opposite. My stomach was in knots, my thoughts were clouded, and my hands have never tremored as much as they were right now. For some reason, it only motivated me to keep going with what I was doing, I couldn't stop until I washed away every trace of Mallory's injury. I didn't want any of it to be left on me, smearing me until it was a permanent fixture that never went away. I didn't just want the remainder of it off of me, I physically needed it to be.

"C'mon" I muttered, my jaw clenched as I applied more soap. Even though I recognized that the water was clear and my hands were finally turned from the red that marked them, I wasn't clean. I was still struggling with the feeling that it was still there, and that wasn't good enough just yet.

I closed my eyes shut for just a moment, grimacing when it was still there. Even though the blood was gone, flashes of her were still in my head, I still wasn't away from them. My saliva felt stuck in my throat at the replay of the time that I found her, scrubbing until I could get rid of that as well.

I don't even know how long I stood there with the water running over my shuddering hands as I cleaned them, but it felt longer than my usual surgical scrubs. At one point one of my rings fell off my finger and clashed into the porcelain sink, making a noise that jolted me. However, I didn't care, I just quickly slid it back on and didn't let it hinder me.

I scrubbed until my hands felt raw, and it was quite ironic, because they were once again turning red but for a different reason this time. Washing them started to feel more painful as the skin continued to break, the soap stinging the surface and layer of skin that I was damaging. It was likely a sign that I should stop and that I've done enough, but I didn't feel free yet.

The water running was a repetitive thing in my mind, slowly taking away this morning every second. This time around, the tops of my hands were discolored red, but the water didn't change colors. I didn't scrub hard enough to break skin, but I've done enough to where it was painful every moment my hand made contact with the other.

Yet, it was nothing compared to the pain Mallory had felt.

Mallory, one of the worlds most beautiful souls, violently attacked by something or someone that I couldn't even comprehend. I was still struggling to understand what happened to her, and for what reason. Even when I was trying to convince myself that I didn't like her, I knew that Mallory was someone who could enter a room and it just brightens up. She'd never lay a finger on anybody, and she always tried to be optimistic, it didn't make sense why someone would do this to her.