Disclaimer: Currently,
neither ER nor any of its characters belong to me. However, once
my plans to become Dictator of the World have become reality, everything
will belong to me, thus, ER and its characters will belong to me.
But until that time comes, please don't sue me. I don't have any
money. And the only thing I'm getting from writing this is a lot
of enjoyment. I'd also like to add that the song "Because the Night"
doesn't belong to me, either, but to the Boss, Bruce Springsteen. (Subliminal
message: See Springsteen in concert. He rocks.) I've taken the liberty
of changing a few of the lyrics slightly, and I hope he doesn't sue me
either. In return, I'll be giving him the position of Songwriter
Laureate in my regime.
A/N: Please read and
review. Constructive criticism helps me improve my writing, and knowing
people enjoy my work gives me more incentive to write. Archiving
is okay, just let me know where. At some point, I'll probably reciprocate
with a link from my domain. This is going to be an odd little fic;
I'm not exactly sure how to classify it. It's going to be a crossover,
but until the crossover part becomes obvious, I'm keeping my mouth shut
about it.
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Take me now baby, here
as I am
Pull me close, try and
understand
I walk all night and
miss the hot sun
Just stay with me now
till the morning comes
Dave frowned slightly as
he glanced at his watch. His shift had officially ended an hour ago,
but as Weaver had seemed to take such delight in telling him, doctors didn't
necessarily keep regular hours. Oh, well, he reasoned, there was still
time to go out, although he really wished he had more time. A whole hour
lost from his quest.
As he was heading to get
his bike, Doris the EMT rushed past him to the ambulance, spouting off
an address to her partner. Immediately, Dave's ears perked up.
"Hey...I was planning on
going that way. Would you mind giving me a lift?"
Doris regarded Dave for a
moment, then shrugged.
"Sure, if you'll give us
a hand before abandoning us."
"Deal."
Dave climbed into the ambulance
as it took off.
"So, what's the emergency?"
he asked.
"Attempted suicide," Doris
replied. "Apparently some woman slit her wrists in a back alley."
Dave nodded, then his thoughts
turned elsewhere for the rest of the ride.
Damn, he hated losing that
much time. Of course, he told himself, he was probably just going
on another wild goose chase. Oh, it wouldn't be a totally unproductive
goose chase. He would hang out in a few clubs, have a few drinks,
probably try to get a phone number or two. But in the end, he would
probably just go home empty handed, fall into his bed, and sleep until
his alarm clock announced that it was time to get up to get ready for work
again. No worse for wear...but no better either.
He laughed softly at himself.
What did he think he was doing? Chasing after some dream? After
all, it had been...what...three weeks ago? And no luck since?
Not that he'd had much luck then. No, as a matter of fact, she'd
ditched him cold, without so much as telling him her name. But there
was something about her that intrigued him, and he was determined to find
her again.
He was brought back to the
present when the ambulance came to a stop. Jumping out behind the
EMTs, he rushed with them to the mouth of an alley, where they were met
by two cops who looked totally bewildered.
"Where's the victim?" Doris
asked.
"It's the damnedest thing,"
one of the cops said, shaking his head. "You won't believe this...she
got up and ran off."
The second EMT snorted lightly.
"Must not have been as bad as it sounded."
The cop shook his head harder.
"No, man...come and look at this!"
Dave and the EMTs followed
the cops further into the alley until they came to a puddle of blood.
A huge puddle of blood. It looked to Dave as though there were gallons
of the stuff.
"Jesus Christ," he said softly.
"How the hell could someone get up and run after losing this much blood?
By all rights, she should've bled out."
"I don't know, the second
cop replied. "But we got here just three minutes before you did, and as
soon as we approached her, she got up and hightailed it out of here.
We had just started trying to look for her when we heard you guys coming."
"Well, shit," Doris said.
"I guess we shouldn't be standing here. We should be looking for
her. Although, by the looks of that blood, we'll be looking for a
DOA."
"Well, it should be easy
enough to find her," Dave put in. "Just follow the trail of blood."
The first cop shook his head.
"Nuh-uh. Check it out."
Motioning for the others
to follow, he continued along the trail that the victim had left, till
it came to a corner...and stopped.
"Unreal," Dave said softly,
shaking his head.
"You're telling me," the
cop replied.
Dave sighed. "Jesus, what
the hell are we supposed to do?"
"Listen, Malucci," Doris
said, "you're off, and there probably won't be anything you can do for
someone who's bled as much as that, anyway. Why don't you just go
ahead and do whatever you were going to do? I think we can manage."
Dave furrowed his brow slightly.
"You sure?" True, his idea of things he wanted to do on his off time
didn't exactly include looking for a probable corpse, but it still felt
rather wrong for him to just walk away.
"Yeah. We can take
it from here."
Dave sighed again. "Listen, I'll walk slowly and keep an eye out.
If I find her, I'll yell. Deal?"
"Deal," Doris said with a smile.
"Thanks," Dave replied, turning
the corner where the blood trail disappeared and heading towards the club
he'd planned to start with. Behind him, he could hear the voices
of the cops and the EMTs as they chose directions to split up and search.
As he walked, he kept his eyes open for any sign of blood, or any sign
of a body. He cursed under his breath as he remembered he hadn't
thought to ask the cops for a description of the victim. Oh, well,
he reasoned, it would probably be pretty hard to miss someone bleeding
profusely from both wrists.
What could possess someone
to do something like that, anyway? Oh, it wasn't that Dave Malucci
didn't know what despair felt like...he'd felt it plenty in his life...but
perhaps he was too much of a survivor. He'd seen too many who gave
into it, and he'd be damned if he would. No, as far as he was concerned,
survival was the best revenge. If he lived and made something of
himself, it would be like spitting in the eye of all the people who'd tried
to keep him down.
It was while he was thinking
these thoughts that he turned into a dark alley. He wasn't worried
about the dark; he'd faced worse than darkness in his life. And besides,
it was a shortcut that would bring him out closer to the nightclub that
was his destination. His progress, however, was cut short by an object
in his way. Check that...by a person in his way, a person who he
ran right into.
"Ooof..." He was about to
apologize when he heard a low hiss from the person in front of him, and
a sudden scurry of feet. He recovered his senses in time to see a
slim form running off into the alley.
"Hey!" he called out, starting
forward, then suddenly losing his footing as he slipped on something in
his path.
Blood.
"Ah, shit," he cursed softly,
scrambling to his feet and taking off in pursuit. He had no idea
whether this was the potential suicide, and frankly he doubted it, given
the fact that the woman was still on her feet, but considering that she
should have bled out before she'd moved the first time, he wasn't taking
any chances.
He turned down another corner
into another alley, following the path he thought the woman had taken,
cursing again when he couldn't see her. But then he noticed more
blood on the ground, so he knew he was on the right track. He moved
further into the alley, keeping his eyes open, although he saw no more
blood.
Until he saw something liquid
glinting on a fire escape ladder.
"Gotcha," he said softly,
moving towards the ladder and hoisting himself up, tilting his head up
so he could see where he was going.
And suddenly he stopped as
a handful of debris came flying down from above, some of it going into
his eyes, a large chunk of something catching him square in the mouth.
"Owfuck!" he exclaimed as
he felt the warm, salty taste of blood in his mouth from his cut lip.
He dropped from the ladder, shaking his head to dislodge the stray debris,
blinking his eyes rapidly to clear his vision.
He couldn't tell for sure,
but he thought the cut on his lip was pretty bad. It hurt like a
bitch, at any rate. He moved his fingers to probe at it gingerly
when he heard a noise from above...another hiss, followed by what sounded
like a whimper.
Opening his eyes, he looked
up, just in time to see a female form hurtling at him from above.
And in the flash of an instant before she knocked him to the ground and
latched her lips upon his, he realized he recognized her.
