Gabriel's warning did little to change James' mind, even if it did scare him a bit. It was eerie to think that suicides had run rampant around the hospital and not a single investigation had been conducted. Being a doctor, a nurse, any position in the medical field was a stressful job, and James quickly went about rationalizing everything that Gabriel had just clued him in on. People were unstable, and high-pressure situations often brought those instabilities to light. It was no wonder that some doctors had turned up dead, and James was sure that a connection to Jack Cassidy had little to do with it. Either way, the man didn't see a point in changing his mind when he had already spoken up and aligned himself with the grieving family downstairs. 

At his side, James could feel someone staring at him. He slowly looked over and met eyes with a displeased-looking nurse. Her frown seemed out of place, and James couldn't figure out what he had done to cause such a look. After all, she couldn't have been within earshot of the conversation between himself and Gabriel, and all he had done was hand the man a file. James found himself frowning back, and watched her as she quickly turned and walked away. “What was that about?” he asked, now turning back to Gabriel.

There definitely was something strange going on at the hospital, and James had to think twice about Gabriel's question. If he scrubbed in, that would seal whatever fate had chosen for himself by refusing to cooperate, and if he didn't assist with the surgery, his time in school would have been for nothing—no medical career to speak of, he would have been a failure. Faced with the decision, walking out didn't seem to make a lot of sense anymore. Of course, it would have been noble, but being a good person didn't pay any bills, it didn't buy food or keep a roof over his head. This was still very much about Elizabeth in her family, but James had to protect himself too.

“I'll scrub in, yeah,” he nodded, “at eleven, or whenever you see fit.”