"Shit, he just went into the conference room with Dr Beckett a minute ago, I think they're having a private meeting..." Anne-Marie looks at the monitor again. "- I'll get him right now. And Amélie." 

Emmy did exactly what Marian asked her, marching around the unit with her eyes on the floor until she found Amélie, informing her in a wooden voice that Marian wanted someone to check on her in 202 in ten minutes. Amélie gave her a weird look but agreed.

Then she went to the bathroom and turned on the tap, set a two-minute timer on her phone, and then sat on the closed toilet seat and trembled and cried a little until the timer went off. At which point she washed her face, un-smudged her makeup, and went to go find Dr Prissan. 

Now, she's sitting at the conference table with her head in her hands. Dr Prissan, who seems to be incapable of using a chair like a normal human being, is perched on the table itself beside her, listening to her broken explanation of what just happened and doing a very impressive job of not interrupting. 

"...So I think I'm probably having a psychotic break," she says. "And I should stay here and in the meantime you should go check on the patient and make sure I didn't actually touch anything and, uh, ask Marian what she heard when we just had the conversation." Assuming Marian's entire presence wasn't a hallucination - but no, she checked her text message history, so either it's an incredibly self-consistent hallucination or she really sent that message.

Dr Prissan pinches the bridge of his nose. 

"- Your speech patterns are fluid and articulate," he says finally. "You don't look psychotic, Emmy, you look terrified. And if you're not having a break..." 

"- Then the random guy Marian found on a park bench wearing a skirt and bathrobe is telepathic and can mind-control people." Emmy sits up and hugs herself. "Shit. Shit. I left Marian in there by herself..." 

Dr Prissan sighs and puts a hand on her shoulder. 

"Emmy, take a deep breath and chill. Whatever happens, panicking about it never helps, right?" He pauses. "Right? Look at me. Emmy, you did just fine, given what was happening. And we are going to sort this out, one way or another. The absolute worst case scenario is that your patient absconded with Marian and we need to call a Code White." 

She takes a deep breath. Tries to "chill".

"Uh. Right." 

And then there's a frantic knock on the conference room door. 

"Dr Prissan! Marian needs you in 202 right now her patient is freaking the fuck out and looks like he's about to code!" 

"Shit. Shit shit shit shit." Emmy, suddenly dizzy, puts her head down on the table. "What did I do to him? Oh no. I'm sorry - I didn't mean to -" 

"Emmy." Dr Prissan slips off the table and thumps her shoulder hard. "Dr Beckett. You stay right here and chill the fuck out. I'll go see what's up." To Anne-Marie, "...I'll be right there! Crash cart in the room yet?" 

     "I'm on it!" 

Dr Prissan gives Emmy's shoulder another squeeze, and then ducks out and shuts the door of the conference room neatly behind him. He strolls to the nursing station, scans the monitor display, then retrieves his stethoscope from the back of a chair and strolls down the hall. (Dr Prissan does not run, approximately ever, even for a literal code blue.) 

Marian stops digging around in the bed for the lost sat probe and holds up a hand when Anne-Marie reaches the door. "...Sorry," she calls out, keeping her voice as low as possible to be audible over the SCREAMING ALARMS. "Can you just - leave that outside and come in quietly and silence everything? I don't want to startle him more." 

     "- If you say so." Anne-Marie looks dubious, but she comes in and silences some pumps. 

"And find the finger sat probe? He had the ear one but it won't go back on." 

Dr Prissan reaches the door, surveys the scene - heart monitor and ventilator still flashing but silently, neglected IV pump beeping out the song of its people, patient apparently sobbing uncontrollably on his nurse's shoulder - and raises one eyebrow slightly. 

"May I come in?" he asks Marian. 

"Yes, just don't, uh, make any sudden moves or touch him, please." She lowers her voice. "He thought he was a prisoner-of-war! I'm trying to calm him down but he, uh, thinks he's responsible for his entire country getting nuked or something and he's really upset about it." 

...It takes her several seconds, and Dr Prissan's eyebrow lifting another few millimetres, to realize how completely nuts that sounds. 

Anne-Marie finds the coiled-up sat probe behind the bed and starts waving it at Marian. 

Dr Prissan stops at the foot of the bed. "Why isn't he on any sedation?" 

"....It's going to sound like I'm crazy." 

Dr Prissan's lips twitch. "Try me." 

Marian takes a deep breath. 

"He's...from another world, I think, one that has, uh, magic. He doesn't speak English and he can only understand me and talk to me using telepathy, and he can't do that if he's sedated. And, uh, he was really wanting to leave AMA and I figured knocking him out would only put off the problem and make him mad at us." 

"Telepathy, huh? Mind control too?" Dr Prissan absently reaches to check Ma'ar's pedal pulses. 

"Stop I said don't!" Marian feels her cheeks flame, watching Dr Prissan pause with his hand extended and eyebrow even higher. "...Sorry. Just, he's really jumpy, okay? He thought he'd been arrested and we were holding him prisoner. That's, uh, why he - messed with Dr Beckett's head - he thought he was in danger and he was trying to get away." 

Which also explains why he was so desperate to escape from Security Creep. It's kind of horrible how much sense all of this makes now. 

"Hmmff. Fair enough. Why don't we have a sat reading on him?" 

"Sorry!" Marian gently takes Ma'ar's hand and slips the probe onto it. "Uh, I'm pretty sure - that," she gestures at the monitor, "is just that he's scared. But it doesn't seem great for him and he's having trouble calming down. I don't want to knock him out again unless we really have to - what do you think...?" 

Dr Prissan rubs the back of his neck. "I'm not a fan of unnecessary sedation either, but we do need him to chill out, and I'm not extubating him when he's like this. Let me think. ...I'm inclined to try some metoprolol. Read a study on that recently, beta blockers for patients with heart valve issues and panic disorders, neat stuff. Anne-Marie, can you pull up five for me? Marian, I want you to push 1 mg at a time, slow, and then we'll wait two minutes between."  

The O2 sat curve on the monitor is flashing - still silently, but the reading is down to 88%. 

Dr Prissan frowns at it. "He's on 25% O2? Anne-Marie, bump him up to 50%, please." 

     Anne-Marie sets down the vial and syringe that she's just broken open from the crash cart. "I...don't know how to do that, RT does settings for us." 

He sighs. "Fine, I'll do it. ...What do we got in there for sedation or pain? I'd like to give him just a little something. Is there morphine in there? Marian, was he in any pain before?" 

"He said he had a headache. I was wondering if that was the low sodium?" 

Another, unpleasant thought is occurring to her. "Dr Prissan? I think we should get a blood sugar." When his eyebrow twitches again, she forges on. "Uh, he kept being hypo and it was weird, right, it didn't fit with the clinical picture for just hypothermia. I'm...wondering if using telepathy or magic drops his sugars. He's been doing that a lot, and..." She glances at Ma'ar again, his dark hair plastered to his head with sweat. "Well, tachycardia and anxiety and, uh, moodiness, could all be exacerbated if his glucose is low again." 

Sigh. "Morphine and metoprolol first, then - oh, there you are." Amélie is standing in the doorway looked confused. Dr Prissan turns away from the ventilator settings he's tweaking. "Help us out here and grab the glucometer, would you? Oh, and get tubes for a repeat blood gas and electrolytes, why not cover all our bases. ...Marian, metoprolol first, push it slow. Anne-Marie, let's prep 5m of morphine in a bag, run it over fifteen minutes, all right? Don't want to hit him too hard."