Page 103 of The Golden Hour

He finds himself in the under-construction wing of the hospital around two o’clock, during a quiet lull between patients.

He needs twenty fucking minutes just to think after nonstop patient after patient, loss after loss. It feels like the universe is punishing him, which is a selfish thought in retrospect because he is not the center of the universe and he is not the one whose family is dying.

Mason tries to focus on breathing deeply and enjoying the silence, even as sweat drips down his back, his temples, and his chest from the humidity.

He seemingly can’t get a fucking moment alone.

Either he has administration up his ass checking on him, their leering eyes monitoring the chaos of the ED, the unfamiliar nurses asking him a million questions that could be answered if they just looked, or Weaver being extra nice to him in a way that feels like overcompensation.

It’s been a hard day.

He shakes when he thinks about going back out there, to treat another patient, another family to inform, another potential failure of his.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he is grateful for the distraction. It’s a text from his mother, and when he opens it, his breath catches in his throat.

Mason taps on the picture that goes blurry until he blinks the tears gathering in his eyes. It’s like drinking cool water in the middle of the desert.

Honey holds Daisy in front of a field of flowers, and he knows they crossed the bridge to Jersey to Jenkins Farm, where they always go pumpkin picking in the fall.

Honey had been saying she wanted to get out of the house, and Dr. Adonis—Mason’s lip curls at the name—had been encouraging when she called to ask.

“Sunshine and fresh air are always recommended treatments in my book,” the blonde doctor had told his wife. “Go and enjoy, it’ll be good for both of you.”

Honey had smiled joyfully at those words, and Mason had to turn away so she could not see his scowl.

He’s not scowling now.

In fact, he quite likes the doctor’s treatment plan as he stares at his sweet girls, more radiant than the colorful blooms around them.

The wave of peace he only feels around them settles over him, like a train going off broken tracks that is finally repaired. He feels himself grow steadier and steadier the longer he looks at the photo, his thumb tracing over Honey’s blonde hair and Daisy’s little bumblebee sun hat

He’s thankful to his mother for sending him this photo, and immediately saves it. Then, he makes it his background image, replacing the photo of him and Honey from their wedding. He looks at the photo in satisfaction as he closes the phone and then taps it, to make his lockscreen appear.

Honey and Daisy.

His girls.

His home.

The center of his universe.

And he feels himself breathing easier.

Sending a quick text to his mother to thank her, he slides his phone into his pocket, fingers brushing against the little sock in there before he turns to walk back into the chaos.

His right hand plays with his wedding ring as he does so and he feels steadier.

His shift blurs by after that.

More losses than saves, unfortunately.

He has Dr. Lowell lead the last code because he knows it is a lost cause, and then observes as Lowell informs the family. The scene is distressing, but Mason is proud of the younger resident for the way he handles it.

“You did great,” Mason says as they leave the family room.

“You think?” Lowell asks hopefully, even as he looks a little pale.

“You showed great empathy,” Mason says, nodding. “You were kind to them. That matters.”