It’s two in the morning and the credits for Casablanca are rolling across the screen for the second time now. After other doctors came to relieve us, I checked into my hotel room long enough to scrub off the stench of the day in the shower. Scott’s eyes rolling back into his head kept flashing in my mind. I slipped out and hailed a cab that took me an hour south of here to an all-night movie theatre.

It’s a run-down old movie house in a town miraculously untouched by the quakes. A man in the front sits with his fingers laced together behind his leaned-back head as a hooker gives him a blow job. The film projector casts the shadow of her head bobbing up and down on the bottom edge of the movie screen. The sound of the movie drowns out his moans. Aside from him, the only other person in here is a homeless man sleeping in a row of chairs. I had bought food and snuck it in, but when I saw how frail he looked, I left it lying beside him to eat whenever he wakes up. I was too exhausted to walk back out to the concession stand to get anything, and it’s been over 24 hours since I’ve had anything other than water.

The movie restarts for the third time. I lay my head back and close my eyes, and there he is again, with his pale face and hollow eyes. I snap my head back up and see someone come into the theatre. It’s dark, but I instantly recognize her shape and movements. Her head turns in my direction and her wandering feet gain new purpose as they head towards me. She slides down the row and lowers the seat, quietly sitting beside me.

We look each over for a long moment in the darkness of the theatre. She holds her hand out with her fingers spread wide. I place my hand in hers and she curls it into her lap, with her fingers firmly wrapped around my hand.

“I knew I’d find you at a movie house,” she says, laying her head on my shoulder. “We went to your hotel room to check on you. We were both so worried when you weren’t there. We split up. There are only 2 all-night movie houses in an hour radius from the hotel.”

“So, that guy’s probably watching a movie with a hooker,” I point to the couple upfront, “which means you’re stuck with me.” I let out a low chuckle.

Her other hand rubs up and down my arm, gently. “I’m never stuck with you, Ashe. You know me - if I didn’t want to be here, I’d be sound asleep in my hotel room.”

I rest my head on top of hers. “I haven’t been so close to losing my shit in years,” I whisper and her hand tightens around mine. “I can’t get that kid out of my head.”

“I remember the first time I lost a kid. It was right after you and I broke up. Wren and I went out and drank too much. I paid for it the next day. Now, I tell myself that I’m the best chance they have. If I can’t fix them, they were going to die anyway. It’s still awful to watch a child die.”

I take my hand from hers and wrap my arm around her, drawing her closer to me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, like you are for me. I’m glad you had Wren.” I kiss her temple.

Halfway through the movie, Wren walks into the theatre. He finds us in the last row and silently joins us, never saying a word until the credits start rolling again.

“We should all try to go get some sleep. There are only a few hours left until sunrise,” he says.

“I don’t think I could sleep at this point, but I’m damn near starving. How about the two of you get some shuteye while I search for a diner.”

“I could eat. How about you?” Aedon asks Wren.

He runs his hand over his scruffy face. “Sleep is overrated. I saw a diner across the street.” He takes Aedon’s hand and walks her out of the aisle.

As we walk out, I see the homeless man scarfing down the food I left him. I pull out a wad of cash from my pocket and hand it to him. “That should be enough for you to eat for a couple of days.” He thanks me and I follow them out. I’m lost in thought as we make our way to the diner.

There was a time before college and before I met Aedon that I lived on the streets. I didn’t know what was wrong with me at the time and my highs and lows sent me whirling out of control. I had no money and vividly remember begging for food and eating out of garbage bins. My dad found me laying in an alley one day and I awoke to the sound of his sobs over what he thought was his son’s dead body. I love my dad with my whole heart and his crying cut me to my core. He scooped my large frame up in his arms and carried me to the hospital. It was the first time the bipolar diagnosis was mentioned, but I didn’t want to believe it or accept it at the time. I wish I could have, things would be so different with Aedon now.

The bell jingles against the glass door as Wren opens it, bringing me back to the present. “Gotta love a greasy diner,” he says.

We sit at a small booth, Aedon sitting beside Wren. I want to think it’s because she wants to keep an eye on me. A young bleach-blonde girl, smacking her gum, takes our order and leaves a carafe of coffee on the table. I pour a mug for each of us.

“You do realize we have to be back in the MASH unit in another two hours?” I say, pouring cream in my coffee.

“It won’t be the first time we’ve gone without sleep,” Aedon says, blowing away the tendrils of steam rising from the surface of her coffee.

“How did your patient in the field do??” I ask Wren.

“It was a woman who had been trapped in the rubble. She lived in a two-story building in a bottom unit and the second story came crashing down on her during the earthquake. Her appendix ruptured and they couldn’t move her without killing her. We created a make-shift sterile area and I removed her appendix and got her stabilized right there in the field. It was amazing.” His tired face lights up as he tells me. “That’s great, man. I’m glad it went well for you.” I shut my eyes briefly and see Scott’s face.

“Ashe saved a ten-year-old kid in the field. He drilled a hole in his head to relieve pressure on the brain,” Aedon adds.

I peer out the dark window at the circle of light on the sidewalk cast by a lone streetlight – the only source of light around for several blocks.

“That’s awesome. I wish I had your talent.” Wren says as our food is set on the table.

“You have tons of talent. Besides, I saved one, but lost…”

“Don’t go there, Ashe. That boy would have died if it wasn’t for you. The other boy would have died regardless of what you did and you know it,” Aedon’s words cut me off.

I push my plate out of the way. “That doesn’t make it any easier. He was just a kid.”

“Yes, and one kid will live the rest of his life because of you,” she adds, taking a bite of her eggs.

“Some life. Both parents and a brother dead.” I get out of the booth and throw cash on the table.

“Where are you going?” Aedon asks, getting up after me. “You need to eat something.

“I’ve lost my appetite. I’m going to check on the boy.”

As I open the diner door, I hear Wren telling Aedon to let me go.

I find his room on the 5^th floor Intensive Care Unit. A nurse is sitting in a folding chair outside his room. I flash her my credentials and ask her to log into his chart.

“Are you the doctor that saved him?”

I glance at her name badge. “How’s he doing, Missy? Has he woken up yet?”

“He has and he’s doing amazing, thanks to you.”

“Is he following commands?”

“He is, and all his reflexes are intact.”

“Does he know his family is dead?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

“He does. He has an older sister that was here earlier. She’s in her twenties and has a baby. She broke the news to him.”

“Thank God he has someone.” I press the foam sanitizer container and enter his room. His eyes open when he sees me at the foot of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“You’re him. The doctor who saved me. I remember your voice. I heard you talking to…Scott.” His voice cracks saying his name.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.” I sit on the edge of his bed and my tears finally start to fall. Here I am, the big, bad-ass neurosurgeon, crying like a baby at the foot of a kid’s bed.

Alex reaches out and touches my hand. “I know you did your best. I heard you fighting for him. He yelled for over an hour until someone heard him. All he could think about was me. He was in such pain, but he kept yelling.” His tears are rolling down his face.

I came here to console him and now he’s consoling me. He reaches up and places his arms around me. “He was a great big brother and I’ll miss him and my parents.”

I reach around and hug him, letting him cry in my arms. “I’m going to go live with my sister,” he sniffs.

I loosen my grip and dig into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet. I take out my business card and lay it on the tray table. “If you ever need anything, you have my number. Tell your sister to give me a call.”

Rain is starting to fall as I make my way to the MASH unit. My mind is still on Alex as the rain pelts down on me. I have every intention of setting up a trust fund for him to meet all his needs. I feel it’s the least I can do.

By the time I make it to the tent, I’m soaking wet. The rain is hindering the rescue missions and there are only a couple of patients on the tables. Aedon is already deep into someone’s chest. Wren sees me and heads in my direction.

“Is the boy okay?” He places his hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, he’s going to be fine.”

“What about you?”

“I’m okay.”

“You look exhausted. When is the last time you ate anything? You didn’t eat your breakfast.”

“I haven’t eaten since we got here, but I’m okay.” I grab a towel and start drying my hair.

“We’re both worried about you, man.” He hands me a pair of scrubs.

Pulling my shirt off, I walk behind a makeshift curtain to change clothes. “I think you two have a lot more to worry about than me.” As I raise my arm to put my shirt on, I see the semicolon tattooed on the inside of my arm. It’s my reminder of how bad things had gotten for me and that I would never let myself get out of control again. My fingers trace it before I pull my shirt on. “Can you hand me my bag?” I yell over the top of the curtain.

He hands it to me. “Do you need some water?”

I dig my prescription out of my bag and pop a pill. “No, I’m good.”

“Here, take this.” He hands me a protein bar. “You’ve got to eat something.”

I take it from him. “Thanks.” I sit in a plastic chair. “Do you think you could tape up my ankle for me? It hurts like a son of a bitch.” I lift it for him to look at it.

He kneels down, examining it. “You should probably ice it and stay off it.” He starts taping it up.

“There’s no time for that.”