This came to me today while I was waiting for a meeting with my principal about the new school year. It was one of those things that just wrote itself. Please let me know what you think.--LivelyStevens

He was in the emergency room again. Three times in two years, it must be a record for the lab or something. Sure others had been there more often…mostly to question suspects or victims, but he was there as a patient. Sure, as a kid he had the normal cuts, scrapes, broken bones, stitches and such, but the last two years had been a crazy roller coaster for him.

He was grateful that he didn't drive a stick shift. It was hard, almost impossible even to drive a stick shift one handed. When the nurses were done with him, he would be one handed again for a couple of weeks. At least it might get him some sympathy in the lab for a little while. Maybe some cute thing would come to his aid if he needed assistance.

His thoughts jumped around from one thing to another as he waited in his little curtained off area. He noticed that they had gotten new gurneys. He recognized a few of the nurses from the first time he was in.

The first time an ambulance brought him in. Crazy Irish thugs had beaten him up in the back of a tractor trailer at a warehouse. At the insistence of everyone else at the scene, he rode in the ambulance to get help. He spent hours in that very emergency room that he was in now. He was taken good care off. They checked out his head and face, which had been bashed in a few times, and they checked out his hand, which had been mutilated. He was out on medical leave the first time he walked out of there, well limped out. This time around, it was the same hand as the first visit. It wasn't a terrorist that did the damage; it was one of the most docile, good hearted people in the lab.

Another nurse passed that he knew; only this one was from a few weeks ago. She smiled at him and gave him a little wave. He tried to look as pitiful as he could. He wanted to get out of there. He thought…was it a bad thing that he knew the nurses by first name and was that a sign that he was there too often? He liked the new tiles that were installed in the waiting room. His hand started to throb again and he hoped someone would be with him soon.

When he was in a few weeks ago, he was surrounded by people all the time. They asked questions, watched his every move and questioned each twitch. All he had was a head laceration and some ringing in his ears. That was not a fun day for him. He wasn't even working when that one happened. He was just minding his own business and boom.

Days that he ended up in the ER were not his favorites. He'd almost rather have teeth pulled then sit and wait. Today could be different; it was almost a happy reason for him to be there. Once again, he was minding his own business while walking down the hallway in the lab and he was ambushed in the corridor. The next thing he knew he was racing towards the hospital and his right hand was in extreme pain.

Would this count as workman's compensation? He wasn't on a case or in the lab when it happened, but he was with a coworker. He was in a work vehicle. He was on the city's time, but yet he wasn't really working. He'd have to talk to Stella or Mac about it.

A nurse walked toward him.

"Mr. Ross, you're becoming a regular around here."

"Yeah, I know. Hi, Gena, how's the wedding planning coming along?"

"Not bad, I expect you to be there. What brings you in today?"

"Crushing injury. I was unceremoniously volunteered to drive a good friend of mine here because her water broke. On the way over, she had a few strong contractions and the only thing she had to grab hold of was my hand. When the father of the baby showed up, they sent me down to have my hand looked at."

Out came his chart that was ever growing and she made a few notes about x-rays and pain meds.

**

Three hours later he cautiously inched into Lindsay's private suite where he was told to find her. There were machines and wires; there were nurses and people going in and out checking her progress. She was much more comfortable and in a drug induced euphoria. The contractions were more bearable with an epidural. Adam's meds were also starting to kick in and his pained lessened. Danny saw him and jumped up to greet him. Adam was suddenly on the receiving end of a hug that had a death like squeeze. It was a thank you for what he'd been through that morning. Lindsay smiled at him through a small space between all the medical professionals that were there.

"Adam, how's the hand?" In typical Adam nervousness, he shyly looked at his injury and held it up for them to see. "You know, you're now part of the story we will tell about the day she was born. We'll talk about how calm and cool Uncle Adam was when my water broke and had to race me to the hospital." She clearly saw the gauze and splint on his hand now. "Sorry about that by the way."

"I'm good. Don't worry about it, just glad I could help…Uncle Adam huh? I like the sound of that."

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