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Annika had never understood what people meant when they said that they had an out of body experience. She had never thought that she would get to experience it. But like the other zillion things in her life, she was experiencing that too courtesy of her husband, Shivaay.

With her back pressed firmly to the wall, Annika stood in the corner of the small emergency room. In the centre, her beloved husband was lying on the bed, thrashing around in the throes of a seizure. His arms and limbs shook in an uncoordinated fashion, as white foam gushed out of his mouth. Her favourite blue eyes were rolled back into his skull as he convulsed like there was no tomorrow. Annika wanted to look away. She couldn't.

She watched Shivaay's seizure. Steadily. She knew that each of this moment was going to haunt her for the rest of her life. But still, she watched her strong, indomitable Shivaay helplessly convulse on the stark white hospital bed. Through the haze, her mind had started to tick.

Fifteen minutes ago, they were in the garden; happily celebrating Rudra's sangeet. Shivaay had suddenly fainted. And now, she was in the emergency room, watching him have a terrible fit. This was no ordinary fainting spell that Shivaay was prone to having. This was different. Someone had definitely done something to Shivaay. What? And who?

But that was a far away question now as the flurry of the hospital personnel around Shivaay's bed increased. There were screams, albeit muffled. Medical terms, none of which she understood, were thrown around. And after a grotesque few seconds, Shivaay went deathly still.

"He has gone into Vfib!" someone yelled. "Give me five mls of epinephrine!"

Annika didn't have to look at the monitors to know what had happened. He had very obviously, flatlined. The activity around him only increased. Someone laid him straight on the bed. Someone else pulled a breathing bag over his face, forcing air into his lungs. Someone else ripped his shirt. And someone started to aggressively press Shivaay's chest. Annika clutched her own chest in cold fear.

The man who looked like a senior Doctor screamed, "Get the crash cart!"

"Pressure is dropping, sir," another woman added. "We need to hit him now."

The Doctor nodded. "Yes."

Annika watched them put the paddles on Shivaay's chest and move away from the bed slightly. When they did so, she caught a glimpse of him. And she wished, she hadn't. He no longer looked like the Shivaay she knew. His lips had turned into a shade of deathly blue. His naturally fair skin had turned impossibly pale. He looked like a cold, corpse and not her husband.

"Clear!" the Doctor said.

Shivaay's prone body jerked upwards as the electricity rushed through his heart. His back arched up before falling back on the bed. Everyone glanced at the monitor. The Doctor then instructed, "No change. Continue the compressions."

Annika's vision darkened as they crowded around Shivaay once again. She slid down the wall and crumbled on the cold, sterilized floor. Yet surprisingly, she didn't cry. She watched everything like she was watching a soap opera. Because really, how could this ever happen to Shivaay and her? Hell, she didn't even feel like she was in her body anymore. She was perhaps dead and the one watching this mayhem was her soul. Souls weren't supposed to feel a thing. Yea, that must have been it.

The Doctor left Shivaay's chest. "No breath sounds. We need to intubate him."

Someone else continued to provide compressions as the Doctor prised open Shivaay's mouth and pushed an endotracheal tube down his throat. They secured it with what looked like tape and attached it to the breathing bag again. As the person behind the bed pressed the bag, Shivaay's torso began to move up and down more furiously, almost like he was breathing on his own. Only, he wasn't.

"Charge to 350 J."

The Doctor held the paddles on Shivaay's chest again. Everyone moved back. Annika once again got a glimpse of his face. He looked worse. How could anyone look more worse in a matter of a few minutes?

Annika didn't get the time to think of it though. As the device delivered a massive shock to Shivaay's prone body, his body spasmed painfully before hitting the bed. Then he just lay there, eerily still.

"Sinus!" a nurse yelled in delight. "We have a rhythm."

Annika blinked as she saw the lines on the monitor move. Was Shivaay back? She rubbed her forehead and looked at the monitors again. Yes. They were moving. But before she could take a breath of relief, Shivaay's body jerked on its own. First, the jerks were mild. Then they turned violent.

"He is seizing again. Give me Midazolam..." said the Doctor. As the clear liquid was injected into his veins, Shivaay stopped seizing. His terse movements slowed down and then ebbed into nothing.

Annika was almost glad to see him like he was set in stone again. She had just learned this new word, seizure, and already hated it from the bottom of her heart. She liked Shivaay better when he was still.

"Keep breathing for him. We need to begin the detoxification right now to give him a chance of living..." the Doctor commanded. "Shift him to the OT number 6. Ms Rathore, give a call to Deepak. We will need him for all the neurological tests in this case. I will take stock of the other reports. Save his vomits and foams please. We will need them for identification."

Everyone nodded and got to work. "Yes sir."

The Doctor then turned around. He was going to walk out of the room hurriedly when his eyes fell on Annika.

"Ma'am!" he yelped in surprise and crouched before her. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here."

Yeah. She wasn't supposed to be there. She had sneaked in. How could she ever leave Shivaay alone?

Annika watched his kind eyes and let her head fall back on the cold wall. There was it again. That same, out of body feeling. She let out a shaky breath. Her eyes fleeted back to Shivaay. They had bundled him on another stretcher, ready to push him to another room.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

The Doctor also let out a breath. He sympathetically patted Annika's forearm. "We don't know what kind yet but your husband has been poisoned."


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Because I hated how they showed the poison track. That's not what happens. One simply does not miraculously recover with a magic tear. This might be a few shots long story. Let's see if anyone is interested or not. :)

Cheers!

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