Learning To Fall
By Allison E.L. Cleckler
Author's
Notes: This story probably requires some explanation. It is adapted
from a roleplaying situation on Livejournal where I play Allison
Chapman from Dubenko Junkie's story "Bases Loaded", and
Dubenko Junkie herself plays (amongst other characters) Dr. Morris.
So this can be considered an alternate universe of an alternate
universe. :) I would give her co-author credit for this story if she
would take it, and if FF.N would allow it, because half the scenarios
and dialogue are rightfully hers. I merely thought it would make a
good story for others to read if I adapted it and put it into its own
context. So the Morris you see here is 90 Dubenko Junkie's
brainchild, with 10 of my own personal twists on his character. As
always, a million thanks go to her for read-throughs and constructive
criticism.
This story will be rated M for future adult situations
and language, and will occasionally include references to past- or
current-season episodes of 'ER'. I hope you all enjoy. :)
Archie Morris was the type of person who generally fudged his way through life, neither excelling nor doing miserably enough to fail, with few (if any) hobbies and nothing much that caught his interest. He had found something to love in music when he joined his high school marching band, even leading the drumline his senior year when they won the national Bands of America championship. But his father, a doctor, had insisted that his son follow him into the family profession. It was his way or the highway. And young Archie, too unsure of himself and too afraid to strike out on his own to follow his dream, simply went along and did as he was told.
He'd done moderately well in college and medical school. Choosing to go into emergency medicine—or rather, having his father choose for him—he'd passed all his exams, gotten all his certifications, even passed his boards on the first try. But his heart had never been in it, and it showed when it came time to deal with actual patients. He avoided the more serious traumas as much as possible; he still always managed to do or say the wrong thing, even when treating the most minor injury; and his colleagues all considered him a brainless idiot. Morris was used to that kind of attitude from his father, so he handled it the way he knew best: he played right into it.
But now he was a fourth-year resident, chief resident even. He knew perfectly well why he'd been given the job—the others wanted him to handle more paperwork and less patients. But he still pretended that he'd been chosen based on merit, as though he wanted to persuade himself of it; he was even beginning to try and actually earn it. Four plus years of sheer derision were beginning to wear down the defensive walls he'd built for himself, and merely skating along just wasn't cutting it for him anymore. Even the party boy act was beginning to grow old. The girls all seemed to have the same faces, the same empty heads. None of them stayed around for very long.
He wanted to be someone that he himself could be proud of, rather than living solely to make his father proud. He was slowly beginning to realize that he was never going to win approval in that department, no matter what he did. He just didn't know any other way to live his life.
But he thought he knew where he could start changing things.
Morris had a problem.
He'd just stepped off the elevator in his apartment building, and he could smell the fruits of his good-for-nothing roommate's sloth from halfway down the fifth-floor corridor. There had been a time when Morris wouldn't have minded the fact that his roommate smoked weed like a veritable chimney, but he'd lost his yen for the stuff the day Robert Romano had been smashed flat by a burning helicopter. The realization that it could have been him in the ambulance bay, rather than the former surgeon, had permanently soured him on toking.
Now, he minded. Especially since he was beginning to suspect that the guy was dealing and not just buying. And when the idiot was inevitably busted, Morris had no wish to be held as an accessory to drug possession and distribution when he didn't even smoke anymore.
Entering his apartment, he was met by a thick haze of blue smoke. The smell was overpowering.
"Dumbass," he greeted his roommate.
Todd was sprawled on the couch, watching ESPN and snacking on Doritos, his bong and assorted accessories still strewn over the coffee table. "Hey, Archie," he muttered vaguely.
Waving his hand in front of his face, choking on the fumes, Morris positioned himself between Todd and the television set. "Do you want to get reported?" he demanded.
"Dude, get out of the way," Todd protested, throwing a chip at him.
"Excuse me, but I could smell your stench from the elevator," Morris said nastily. "The damn neighbors are probably getting a buzz. You keep this up and somebody's gonna call the cops on you."
Todd was unconcerned. "They should mind their own business," he replied blithely, craning his neck in an effort to see past Morris. "Move, bitch, I'm trying to watch the game."
"Fine, watch the stupid game. But get yourself another roommate to bail your ass out of jail. I'm through with this." Snorting in exasperation, Morris threw up his hands and stalked off to his room.
"Hey, could you get me a beer when you come back out?" Todd called after him, his eyes once more glued to the television.
County General Hospital had an online message board that its employees could use to communicate with each other. Most of the forum was given over to assorted medical discussion, but there was also a 'miscellaneous' section for general talk. It was mostly used to help plan and organize the occasional departmental holiday party, but links to current news stories, humorous items, and other topics that didn't fit elsewhere were also posted. Morris was looking through it in hopes that at least one other person at the hospital was also in need of a roommate. He'd decided that, this time around, he'd prefer to room with a fellow doctor-type who understood his lifestyle and wouldn't be bothered by it.
Browsing back a few days, he soon found what he was looking for in a topic entitled 'Roommate Wanted'.
To anyone and everyone at County—I am looking for a new roommate as my current one is getting married and moving out at the end of this month. I'm amenable to both having someone move in with me or moving in elsewhere. Please contact for details.
Allison Chapman
Oncology
Below her name she had listed her e-mail address, messenger ID, and phone number.
Morris didn't have to think about it twice—she needed a new roommate, he definitely needed a new roommate, and the offer was out there. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd be attractive, too.
He checked the time and decided it wasn't too late to call. Heading out into the living room, he ignored Todd—who was still zoned out in a blue haze—and fetched the cordless phone from the kitchen counter.
The phone rang twice before a pleasant-sounding female voice answered, "Hello?"
Well, she didn't sound ugly, if that was even possible. "Hi, is this Allison Chapman? I'm calling about the post she made on County General's message board, said she was looking for a roommate?"
"Yes, this is she," the voice said, sounding relieved. "May I ask who's calling?"
Morris put on his best 'important person' voice. He had so few things to take pride in, even if it was false pride. "Archie Morris. I'm the emergency room chief resident."
"Ah," she replied, and suddenly her voice had a faintly wary tone to it. He gave the phone a quizzical look. "I've heard of you."
"Only good things, I hope," he said cheerfully. They probably weren't. "So tell me about this apartment of yours."
"Sixth floor, near an El station, pretty close to County. Two bedrooms, comes with all your basic utilities plus cable internet and television. Your half of the rent would be two-fifty a months, plus you have to cover your own phone bill."
Her voice was still polite, but noticeably less relieved than it had been. Still puzzled by her change in demeanor but resolving not to give it much thought, Morris replied, "Awesome. So, are you seeing anyone? Will I have to put up with you banging on the walls all night long?"
"No," she countered. "Are you?"
He chuckled. "Are you asking me out?"
The joke obviously fell flat with her, as she said shortly, "No."
Morris cleared his throat and pressed on. There was always time for a second good impression. "So when can I move in?"
"You don't even want to look at the apartment first?"
"No… I just want out of mine as soon as possible." Before the cops come busting through the door.
He heard a muffled sigh on the other end of the phone line. "Joey's moving out this weekend, and I've already paid full rent for the next month. At least stop by tomorrow so I can meet you. I've got the day off."
"Sounds good," Morris replied, inwardly giddy with elation at the thought that he would soon be free of Todd forever. "I'll show up around eight, then."
"Sure thing." There was a click, and the line went dead.
Morris turned off the phone and set it on his desk, looking at it thoughtfully. She didn't sound like she was too terribly bad a person, despite having become less than enthusiastic after he'd introduced himself. He mentally shrugged off the vague impression that he'd been insulted. Todd and his cloud of smoke were going to be history, and he, Morris, was going to be moving in with a young single woman who with any luck would be easy on the eyes. Problem solved.
