The One Call that He Didn't Have to Make
by: Eyes-of-Pearl
Rating: G
Disclaimer: ER belongs to its respective owners.
Author's Notes & Synopsis: The last few episodes have been very good to me. Seeing Noah Wyle inhabiting the character of John Carter is down right nostalgic. While I am happy to see that many of the old casts are returning, I am a bit disappointed in not seeing the return of Ming Na as Dr. Jing Mei (Deb) Chen. This is my attempt in bringing back some Jinter moments. This is an AU extension to episode 1518, What We Do.
The One Call that He Didn't Have to Make
"Is there anybody else that you want us to call?"
He shook his head - the obvious choices was out. He didn't have the kind of mental energy to deal with his immediate family. Since the deaths of Gamma and his son, his conversations with his family had been sparse. He could count the number of calls in one hand. Face-to-face contacts were virtually nonexistent, ever since he left the States to do humanitarian work in Africa. Kem was in France visiting family. Though she knew there was something that had brought him back to Chicago, she never suspected the real reason. He left it that way on purpose.
Few were privy to the events which led up to his current predicament. He had overcame many personal demons, and trenched through a certain kind of hell that he would be lying if he said that he didn't have the occasional nightmare still. That left the not-so-obvious choice.
As Gates came back to set up a surgical field on his chest, and Morris burst through the door for an update, he managed to swallow what little saliva he had in his mouth and whispered, "Call Deb." The two words were lost to the darkness. He wasn't sure if he had spoken the words out loud, as he succumbed to the waiting oblivion.
The next couple of hours were a blur from the Code Blue to resuscitation and finally down to recovery in the ER. He fleeted in and out of consciousness, alternating between tiredness from his ordeal and embarrassment over everyone's concerns. When he slept, gossamer images wove within his lucid dreams. At one point, Gates came to chat about organ donations. He saved the other younger doctor from further awkwardness when he said that he left things "vague" with his wife. Later on, Morris peeked in through the thin curtains to reiterate the fact that yes - there was no way he was going to live down the fact that he was brought back to life in one of the trauma rooms. The red haired doctor then solemnly informed him that all the arrangements were made for his transfer to Northwestern. "It took a bit of professional wrangling, but we managed to put in that phone call in for you as well. You just concentrate on getting plenty of rest, alright. Doctor's order."
Morris left before he had a chance to respond.
There was a certain amount of efficiency during his transport to Northwestern. He was grateful for the minimal fanfare in his sendoff, though he was touched by the presence of Haley, Jerry and Frank. He waved through doors of ambulance in thanks. As the bus rolled out of the ambulance bay, it was as though he was leaving a part of himself behind at County.
Upon his arrival, tests were ordered to check his potassium levels. Within half an hour, he was settled into new room where he was going to be monitored. Drawing in much needed oxygen through the nasal prongs, he was lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sounds of the monitors next to him.
He woke to the soft caress of somebody running their fingers through his hair. Immediately, he concluded that said appendages connected with a feminine hand. The monitors next to him alarmed as his heart rate increased and somebody hastily turned them off. He blinked twice just to make sure that he wasn't still dreaming or seeing an apparition.
"I waited as long as I could," he didn't know why he chose those particular words as his greeting. He blamed it on his muddled state of mind.
"Four years, John. I will tend to agree with you on that one." Thankfully, being the person that she was, and given their long history stemming from the dogged med school days, Jing-Mei Chen didn't taken offense. Instead, she tucked a stray hair behind her ear as she drew the chair that she had been sitting in closer to his bed.
Adjusting his position slightly, so he could get a better view of her, he tried to amend his words, "Deb, you know that's not what I mean."
"So serious, Carter! I can't have you getting soft on me."
Despite her teasing tone, he knew that part of her was serious and genuinely concerned. Her right hand was playing with part of the wiring that connected with the pulse oximetry monitor on his right index finger.
"Hey," he said, treading his left hand with her right. The motion drew her attention upwards toward him, until their eyes met.
"How did you get here?" he asked.
"You don't know?"
"Last I heard you were doing some work with the WHO and that's not exactly in Chicago or in this country for that matter."
This time, it was him who broke eye contact. He coughed to hide the shame that he felt for not making a better effort in staying in touch. A soothing touch, her right thumb rubbing in clockwise fashion on his left, brought him back to focus. She stood until they were at eye level while maintaining their tactile contact.
"I think the last time we spoke I was doing some work over at the Regional Office for Western Pacific, which you have already deduced isn't in this country." He had to smile at her weak attempt at humour. She was offering a way out for the both of them. It was her subtle way of apologizing for not staying in touch either.
"But my work isn't centralized in a single area. I do some consulting work on the side and putting in some personal travelling time. I was actually in Washington D.C. for a conference when I was called from the Shanghai office. It turned out that ... lets see if I remember this correctly ... a Dr. Gates called in a few favours to track me down. Once I got the message, I jumped onto the next plane from D.C. to Chicago."
His eyebrows rose in surprise, but as recognition settled, he drew his own conclusions, "Yeah, Gates was ex-military. I'm sure he has a lot of connections but I didn't think he heard me."
"What do you mean?"
"I think I said to call you while I was on the verge of a code. You know I'm so sorry to call you."
"No, no, it's ok. I'm not working; I have no place that I have to be at the moment."
"Deb, I-"
"You remember Michael?"
"How could I forget?" he replied. Michael - Deb's baby, the one that she gave up for adoption all those years ago.
"You were the only person that I called that night he was born. You alone, saw me in one of the most vulnerable moments of my life when I gave him up, because I knew that I could count on you. I trust you, John. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
"You know I lost more than just the function of one of my kidneys that day." He didn't have to specify which day he was referring to, she was there as a witness and a participant.
In essence, they were both saying the same thing.
"John."
"I thought I could do this myself, Deb, but I can't."
Taking their still-intertwined hands, she brought it up to her lips for a kiss. Then leaning forward, she placed one on his forehead and whispered reassuringly, "Hey, it's ok, you don't have to."
Fin
AN: In a Season 7 episode, entitled "The Greatest of Gifts," Deb gave birth to a baby boy. She called Carter as her labour coach. Some of the dialogue used here is a direct parallel to that particular episode. Hope you enjoyed, please r/r and let me know what you think.