I can feel the pain, feel the blood flowing out of me. The entire front of my body and the floor around me is covered in blood. My blood. It takes a little while to sink in. I'm bleeding, and no one is coming to help me. I would scream, but I don't have the strength anymore. And Paul is in the corner...behind the closed door. The sharp blade of the knife glimmers impossibly bright in the faint moonlight. As much as I want someone to come find me, I know that Paul will kill anyone who tries. And as badly as I want to be found...as much as I want to be taken up to the OR and saved...I couldn't bear for someone else to die so that I could live. I feel like crying, but only a single tear escapes my eye, falling onto the cold floor. It's getting colder in here. Freezing. Or maybe this is what it feels like to die.
The door is opening. And for one perfect moment, I see John Carter, standing in the doorway, the picture of strength. Just standing there. I want to yell to him, tell him to get out. I need to warn him...If anything happens to Carter, I'd never forgive myself. But I can't even get a groan out, something to warn him. My mouth is dry, my body is limp. I can barely breathe, let alone yell to him. Paul steps forward, and Carter's body crumples. I can see into his eyes from the other side of the bed. He sees me, and his mouth opens to talk. I want to tell him not to waste his energy. But still I want to hear his voice before I die. I want him to tell me what I've been waiting to hear from his mouth since that day...the moment I realized there could be something between us. We'd been creeping closer to being 'together' each day we spent near each other. He spent more time looking into my eyes than ever before. He stared like a little boy at me sometimes, but with eyes full of love. And now he's laying here, and I can't do a damn thing to save him.
Paul is gone. He's not coming back. Crazy, maybe, but he knows that someone might find us, someone who might see him. The door is open. God bless you, Carter, you wonderful man. The door is open! Maybe someone will see us now... someone walking by. We can only lay here and hope. There is music, faint and faraway, but I hear the pounding bass and feel its vibrations under my body. I fear for myself, yes, but I am more afraid for John. John. It sounds funny in my mind, and I know if I could speak, it would feel funny coming out of my mouth. He's Carter. All business, teacher-student relationship Carter. But he was more than that. Is, i remind myself. He's not dead. Yet a voice in my head reminds me. he's not dead yet. I push the thought away, and try to focus on his warm brown eyes. But they are dull now, and pained. He looks like he wants to speak deserately, and the expression on his face makes me want to break down into tears. I know what's wrong with me, I know that I am going to die, and I can't control it. I know how much pain I'm in...but then there's John. I can't think of him as Carter, seeing him on the floor like that. He's the man I shouldn't love, but I do. He's not my teacher anymore. I have no idea what's going on on the other side of this bed. I don't know how much he's bleeding, and I can only guess how much pain he's in. It's worse not to know. It's always worse not to know.
It hurts too much to look at his face, but I can't move. I try to focus on something else, and my mind drifts to all of the other times with Carter. Searching for Corrinna's father with him...he was stubborn, but not as stubborn as I was. I guess we got it done, though. I was so inexperienced. I thought I could go out there all by myself and save the world. And I would have failed miserably without him. All this time, here at County, I would have failed miserably without him. That thought hurts too. It's hard to think of anything that isn't impossible to deal with right now. He is looking at me. He wants me to give him a sign, he wants me to try to stay awake. And for him, I'd like to. But doesn't he know how goddamn hard it is for me to even have my eyes open right now? Damn, don't do this to me John. Don't make me...it hurts too much. The only thing i think I have the strength to do it blink, and I am quite sure that once my eyes close they will never open.
The memory my mind wraps itself around is that time I kicked John. What a disaster...but I did join tae-bo class at 5:30 am after that...A miracle workout, really...but that's not what I care to remember. All I want to remember is the feeling of John's warm lips against my own...the pain of remembering is worth the feeling it brings back. He stopped me then. I wish he hadn't. Now especially. Now that it's too late to tell him what the kiss meant to me, I have to die. I always knew life wasn't fair. I just didn't know how damn unfair it could be.
I am about to die. There is no way around it. The warm pool of blood around me is a clue, and the feeling that I am frozen isn't giving me much hope. And then a tapping sound, sort of like footsteps...but there's something else there too. It's faint, very faint. And suddenly, I see Kerry's crutch. It should be so much louder than it is. She usually comes storming down every hall. And suddenly it comes to me. The music is too loud for her to hear John. No one heard my screams when I was being attacked because they were partying. Valentine's, Luce. I remind myself, using John's sometimes-nickname for me. It sounds good to hear that name. Even if it's only in my mind. Even if I am dying and I will never hear his voice again, even if I will never kiss him again, even if I can never tell him I love him... I am still Luce. It sounds so perfect. The most wonderful nickname ever, or so I convince myself. I couldn't bear to think that John wasn't perfect in his dying moments. The volume on everything is turned down to level 1, and it's more frustrating than not being able to hear. And I know that John must have said something when he came in...and I think I saw him mouth my name. But did he mouth it? Or did he call out to me?
They are moving me now, bringing me to the OR. They must be yelling, because I can hear them. They are separating me from John now. It's a relief not to see him suffering, but then there's that nagging part of me that just wants to *know*. And if he's not with me, and he dies...I'll never see him again. But that thought too must be pushed away. I refuse to believe that John could die and leave me alone. That would be too painful. I can hear what they are saying, yes, but I almost wish I couldn't. I am in v-fib, and I am almost gone, almost dead. They can't bring me back, and I wish they'd stop trying. It hurts too much. There are some negative signs, make that MANY negative signs, and few positive ones. I'd hate to admit it if it were my coworker on this table, but I am going to die no matter what they do. I don't need all of these people working on me. They need to be with Carter. He's been down for a shorter amount of time, he has a chance. Asystole. Dead. But why the hell can i still see everyone? I see everyone's eyes tearing, I see them all leaving me. I am supposed to be dead, dammit. I am NOT supposed to have to see this. I'm not supposed to see everyone mourning.
Another memory, possibly my last, surfaces. Carter and I...it's just so hard to call him John now that I will never see him again...are sitting on the roof, his arm around me, my head on his shoulder. My cheek is touching the scratchy surface of the strap from his shoulder immobilizer. I would adjust my position so that it wasn't, but I don't want him to let me go. He is comforting me, holding me. And we are alone up there, staring at Chicago. I could swear his lips brushed the top of my head. He just sat with me, his words ringing in my ears. The good fight. He was a great man. IS, dammit! Carter is NOT dead, he will NEVER die...he's too good. Too good of a teacher to die tonight, too good of a person, and too good of a friend. He can't die because of me. It's bad enough, bad enough to see the look in their eyes.
Elizabeth...she swore she'd get me through this, but she never had a chance. She tried, though, they all tried. I'm sorry I have to leave them...I had to force the words out, and I felt like I wasn't going to be able to. Thank god I did, the look in her eyes made every drop of effort worth it.
Romano. Damn, I misjudged that man. He was the sweetest...He wasn't rude. He actually promised me he'd "talk me through it". As if I didn't know. As if I hadn't been in enough damn traumas...as a doctor...No Lucy, you were never a doctor. You never will be. And the thought can't hurt me now. Nothing can hurt me. I can feel it, I am gone. My eyes must have that terribly blank look that I've seen so many times. Dead. I can't grasp the concept fully, not while I can still see Romano's expression, more pained than anyone I've seen today. His hands are slowly creeping closer to my face, and I see that he is closing. His touch is gentle, but I remind myself that I should not be feeling this. I should not be seeing him. I should be floating up to heaven, down to hell. I should NOT be laying here still.
Kerry is here too, now, and they work wordlessly. As Kerry pulls the sheet up past my knees and over my body, I want to comfort her in some way. John Carter's words ring in my ears once more, and I repeat them over and over in my mind. I couldn't bear that he might leave me alone. I never thought I might be leaving him. God John, I'm so sorry. Everyone...I am so sorry. It's just too hard to hold on. You'll know someday. I swear I tried.As the sheet is pulled over my chin, I think, as though they can read my mind, "You fought the good fight today. And tomorrow, you'll fight another one." The world fades to white as the sheet covers my face, and I can finally close my eyes and rest peacefully.