17.
The time read 5:15 pm. Doctor Stable looked at the clock against the wall with a slight grin on his face. Today marked the first time that Redheart had ever been late in over four years working at the hospital. Normally, the younger nurses had at least one slip-up in their first six months. Redheart had shown up on time or early almost every day. Stable thought to himself that he would congratulate the mare on for once taking things easy.
Time passed. At 5:20, Stable decided a little ribbing was in order about Redheart and wondering if she had been with that one stallion she had been going out with recently. By 5:30 he was beginning to get worried about where she was. At 5:45, the worry turned to anger; not even Redheart could be excused from being nearly an hour late to work. Still, it was only her first infraction so the punishment wouldn’t be too severe. When Redheart finally came in at quarter after six, Doctor Stable initially went over to scold her for arriving so late without calling.
When he approached, however, he felt very differently. Redheart was limping and had what looked like a small bruise on her forehoof. Her eyes were red and slightly watery and her mane was unkemptly placed into her usual bun. She seemed tired and almost looked sick.
“Are are you alright?” It was a dumb question, but it had to be asked.
“Fine.” The word seemed choked out and her voice was rough.
“Did you manage to have any dinner before coming?”
“I ate something,” Redheart answered.
“What about your bruise?” Doctor Stable asked as he followed Redheart towards the staff room.
“What bruise?”
That wasn’t like Redheart at all. “On your forehoof.”
“Oh, that. I slammed my refrigerator door on my hoof.”
As Redheart started to go through the decontamination process, Doctor Stable anchored himself in the doorway. “Miss Redheart, I know you’re trying to put up a strong façade, but this isn’t like you. Now, please, I need you to tell me what happened.”
Redheart ignored him.
“Nurse Redheart, if you are getting sick, I should advise you go home and rest.”
“I can’t go home,” Redheart said. “He’ll be waiting for me, I know it. I can’t face him.”
Redheart tried to leave the room, but Doctor Stable had blocked her progress. He placed a hoof on her shoulder and motioned to the table in the staff break room where there was a large container of fruit salad. He pulled out a bowl and filled it up before setting it in front of Redheart, sitting at the table.
“A gift,” he said, “from the Ponyville Philharmonic. We’ve taken care of three of their members on overnight stays lately and they wanted to send thanks for the fast treatment. We’ll be expecting dinners paid by them for the next week.”
Redheart took a fork and halfheartedly took a bite of the salad.
“Now, please,” Doctor Stable said as gently as he could as he sat down in a chair across from Redheart, “I need you to tell me what happened. You’ve been working here for over four years and have never been as late as you are. I want to know what happened.”
Redheart moved the fruit around more than she did eat it, refusing to look directly at Doctor Stable. “I came here to escape. I thought if I worked, I wouldn’t have to think about what just happened.”
Stable nodded but kept his eyes fixed on Redheart. “Well, we’ve established a motive but not a context.”
Redheart took a bite of food and chewed it slowly; Stable knew she was stalling. “I had recently gotten together with someone,” she said when she finished. “I thought things were going well, but I found him cheating on me with another mare.”
“Oh, Redheart,” Stable said softly and sympathetically. “First the thoughts of Twilight, and now this. The universe has not been in your favor lately, has it?”
Redheart shook her head slowly.
“So, where exactly did you get the bruise from?”
“I really did get it from the fridge. I was angry and forgot to move my hoof out of the way.”
“Oh, good. I was hoping you hadn’t gotten into a fight.”
“No. I was pretty angry, though.”
“I would suspect so.” Stable tapped the floor with a hoof in thought. “I’m half thinking of sending you home for the night and leaving things to me.”
“I don’t want to go back home,” Redheart said, hardly letting Doctor Stable finish his sentence. “He came by my house and started trying to apologize when I told him I want nothing to do with him. He finally left when I told him I had to get to work and didn’t want to be standing around listening to him all evening.”
Stable was quiet for a moment, then smiled gently at Redheart. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll let you have some time to work. But I’m going to be patrolling the floors. If I see any signs of you slacking, I’ll have you head home immediately.”
Redheart nodded. “Thank you, Doctor.” She looked like she was going to hug him, but she kept to herself and merely blushed, most likely out of embarrassment. After a few moments of standing around, she left the room and went about her work.
Doctor Stable walked around the floors three times that evening in one and a half hour intervals. Every time he made sure to pass Redheart, he could see the mare working as hard and as diligently as ever as though the conversation in the staff room had never happened. She never faltered even though she had a tired look in her eye.
At eleven o’clock, Doctor Stable made a fourth round after finishing some paperwork and found Redheart in the middle of a routine change of a patient’s IV bag. He waited until Redheart was done to speak with her.
“Alright, Nurse Redheart,” he said. “It’s eleven o’clock. I wager it’s time you headed on home.”
Redheart allowed herself a yawn. “Yes, I suppose so. Thank you for letting me work, Doctor. I may not look it, but I feel better than I did when I came in.”
In some aspects she did look better; the redness was gone from her eyes and the bruise had lessened considerably. “You certainly do. However, you do need to get some rest. Keep calm and make sure you tend to that bruise; perhaps a warm bath to clean it and a bandage.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Redheart said. “Thank you again.”
Doctor Stable smiled. “I hope things get better for you soon. If anything, the universe needs to give you a reprieve.”
Redheart smiled at him. “It has so long as I can be here a few hours a day.”
Doctor Stable smiled to himself as Redheart left. He finished up a little bit of paperwork and made sure all the night staff was on duty before locking up his office and getting himself ready to leave, collecting his things from the staff room. On his way out, he stopped by Twilight’s room in the Emergency Ward and looked at the sleeping mare. The electrocardiograph gave a steady beeping noise and read at thirty beats per minute.
“Oh, Celestia,” Doctor Stable sighed as he looked at Twilight. “For what reason has your student Twilight come into our hospital? For what reason has it happened at the same time that you’ve placed such distress on our poor Redheart?” He hung his head and started to walk out of the room.
Without warning, the beeping sound quickened. It was hardly perceptible, but twenty years of being around such devices had tuned Doctor Stable’s ears to hear the minutest of changes. The unicorn turned around and walked over to the electrocardiograph.
Thirty-five. Doctor Stable had to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing thing correctly, but there it was. Twilight’s heart rate had gone up by five beats per minute. He walked over to the sleeping mare.
“Twilight!” he called. “It’s Doctor Stable, can you hear me?”
No response came. For a long time, the electrocardiograph stayed at thirty-five beats per minute and Doctor Stable stayed put watching it. After a few minutes, Twilight’s heart rate decreased back to thirty, same as it had been for nine weeks.
Doctor Stable began to think. He had been musing aloud, so what if there was something that had caused Twilight to stir from his thoughts? While her name had been in there, there was no perceptible change in her condition from it. But, what else could have caused it?
“Celestia,” Doctor Stable said.
Twilight’s heart rate had no change.
“Hospital,” Doctor Stable tried again.
Twilight’s heart rate didn’t seem to be affected by that either.
There was only one last word that Doctor Stable would have considered key. “…Redheart?” The word came out more questioning than anything else.
Nothing at first. Then, Twilight’s heart rate slowly began to climb; first by one beat, then another, until it had risen back up to thirty-five. It stayed there for a minute before decreasing back down.
“…you want Redheart?” Doctor Stable asked.
Again, Twilight’s heart rate rose to thirty-five beats per minute. It stayed there for a short while, then decreased again.
Even with the confirmation (it had happened three times now) Doctor Stable was refusing to believe it. With a nervous trot, he left the room. “Right,” he said to no one in particular. “I’ll… I’ll bring her around tomorrow. Got to let her rest, but… tomorrow.” Then he left.