White-out

White-out

Quick notes: I know less than nothing about medical terms and all those abbreviations they use on the show. I tried to avoid using any, and where I had to was just a guess, so please forgive any mistakes.

Disclaimer: As far as the law is concerned, these characters do not belong to me.

* * *

The snow hadn't quite begun when Kovac entered the ER that night, and it blew in through the doors behind him. "Heads up!" Dr. Green shouted, and Kovac caught the ball before it could flatten his face. Another game of Rolling Chair Soccer was going on- Greene, Corday, Malucci, and Carter against all the nurses.

"Slow day?" Kovac asked, taking his coat off.

"Be quiet, you'll jinx it," Corday warned, chasing after the ball. Greene reached it first, but fell to the ground as Corday crashed into him. Malucci kicked it and just missed knocking over Weaver's pile of files. Even she was in a good mood- she merely glared at him rather than going into a crutch-waving rage.

"What's all this happy horse-shit?" Everyone froze as Romano stepped out of the elevator. "If no one is dying, I am sure there's plenty of paperwork to be done. Does no one keep track of the weather down here?"

"It's just a little snow," Corday started, but before she could go on Romano cut in, "Could I get a response from someone who BELONGS down here?"

"It's more wind than anything," Kovac said, "The radio said…"

"The radio lies," Romano jumped in, "Do you know why? Because if they had enough money to get a decent weather report, they'd be on television. No, it's not 'just a little snow' or 'more wind than anything,' it's turning into a blizzard. And blizzard equals busy e.r."

"Thank you Robert, I'll take it from here," Weaver said in an obvious attempt to be rid of him. She soon had the game cleaned up and everyone preparing for the inevitable disasters as Corday followed Romano back to the elevator.

"Oh no you don't," Romano said, getting in ahead of her, "You wanted to play, now you can pay. Stay down here unless I page you."

"But Robert…"

"What's that Elizabeth? I can't hear you, the doors are closing." And shouted through the closed doors, moving upward, "Was I hearing a complaint?"

* * *

Back at the desk, Weaver shouted, "Malucci, stop staring out the window and make yourself useful!" Malucci just waved a hand dismissively at her, and she hobbled over to see what was so interesting. It was snowing heavily, but winter wasn't over so it shouldn't have been so surprising. "It's just snow," she said impatiently, "This is Chicago."

"I was just out there two minutes ago," Kovac said, appearing behind them, "It was only flurries. It must be coming in quick." The wind picked up, sending it swirling upwards as well as down.

"Think it'll be a whiteout?" Malucci asked.

"This late in the year? Not likely," Weaver said, leaving the window, "We would've had warnings about one by now. But this'll still cause a mess on the roads, so be ready!"

Commercials go here, maybe.

The first person to be wheeled in as a result of the storm wasn't from a car wreck, but a slip on ice followed by a possible heart attack. Weaver, Greene, and a flock of nurses ran alongside the gurney towards Trauma One while the paramedic shouted off stats.

"Sir, can you tell me your name?" Greene asked after listed the required tests and drugs. He counted off and they lifted him off the gurney and onto the table.

"I was just taking the dog out," the old man said, "Dumb bitch refuses to use the dog door."

"Well what happened?"

"I slipped, nearly broke my goddamn neck. Really, I'm fine, those nosy neighbors don't know what they're talking about."

"We still need your name, sir," Weaver said as she hooked up the heart moniter. "Give him ten of lidocane," she said, watching the screen. It had only beeped a total of five times when it flatlined. "V-tach," she announced.

"Okay, give him an epi," Greene ordered, then turned to take the paddles from one of the nurses. "Charge to 100, clear!" One shock sent the moniter beeping again, but he didn't wake up.

"I'll take him up," Greene offered once they were satisfied they had given him enough drugs for the time being.

* * *

Meanwhile, Kovac was seeing another patient in curtains. A mother had brought her nine year old son in- he'd run outside to play in the snow, and an icicle had fallen on his face. There was a long gash down his cheek starting just below his eye. The kid was lucky it hadn't gotten in his eye. Kovac said as much, and the mother snapped, "Don't scare him!"

"I'm just saying he was lucky," Kovac said, looking up at her. She looked quite dishevelled- he guessed she had more kids at home.

"You know what my brother told me?" the boy asked as Kovac attempted to stitch his face, "He said icicles make the best murder weapon."

"Why's that?" Kovac asked.

"Cause there's no evidence left. It melts," he said with a grin.

"You're going to have to keep your face still, unless you'd like to look like Frankenstein," Kovac warned, and laughed when the kid asked, "Really?" with an eager grin.

"Not quite," he answered, "It's not too deep, but it would leave a mark if you're mother hadn't brought you in."

"I just hope I can get home," she said, "It really started blowing up when I got here."

"Well, you can hang out in the cafeteria until it calms down, I suppose," Kovac offered.

"Oh no, I'll be stuck here all night," she said, "It's just going to get worse. They've put out an official warning. It's supposed to get to be a few feet deep, and in a short amount of time.

"Sounds like I'm going to be busy."

* * *