I'm not really sure where this fic is going, I'm thinking I may jump back and forth in time, just for the first few chapters, so it may be a longer story. I'm happy for anyone to throw ideas at me and please – REVIEW!

*edit* As I'm progressing with the story, I find myself coming back and editing chapters, so everything fits in, so you may want to reread chapters before continuing. Sorry!

.

.

.-2 hours earlier-

.

.

"And here I was hoping we might have a quiet one tonight, you know, maybe even have a little uh, par-tay" Kenny said as he wheeled his patient through the ER doors. Shift had barely started and the staff had been run off their feet as soon as they had clocked on.

"It's Halloween Kenny" TC interjected "our busiest night of the year, at least for the first half of shift, it'll quiet down in a few hours. Something about people getting dressed up and running amok through the streets that causes mayhem and injury. Until bedtime at least"

And as if to prove his point, Jordan came walking through the doors with a man, groin and face bloodied, handcuffed to a gurney, accompanied by 2 police officers. Only this wasn't a costume, this was the real thing. He was yelling obscenities, and struggling against his restraints.

"Jordan you want me to take over for you? You can wait until the next one comes in" TC eyed the prisoner warily. Something didn't feel right, he didn't like the way the man looked around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on exits, hospital staff, Jordan.

Being a ranger, he relied on his intuition in the field, his ability to read people, their actions, and what was going on around him. It was a trait that made him such a good doctor. Sure TC could be so self assured that most people would accuse him of being cocky. But it was something that had gotten him through many hairy situations, he wasn't going to start ignoring it now.

"What, you think this poor damsel needs big bad TC to protect her?" She asked, giving him a coy smile, "thanks but I'm sure I can handle it. If I do need you I'll be sure to let you know" and with that she took off down the hall to trauma.

"Yo T, how does it feel to get burned?!" TC glared at Kenny, daring him to say something, anything else. He and Jordan had just found their way back to each other. Again. And admittedly he did sometimes forget just how tough she could be, how tough she was.

.

.

.-Now-

.

.

TC had been drifting in and out of consciousness. He wasn't sure how long he had been on the roof, but every time he came to, his memory was sharper, recalling the events that had gotten him up here. He slowly and painfully removed his scrubs, trying not to jostle his injured shoulder as he lifted his top above his head and slowly peeled it off his arm. He then removed his belt from his jeans and secured the rolled up fabric over the wound in his side, applying pressure and hopefully stem the bleeding. He knew it (thankfully) didn't hit an artery, as the blood flow had become sluggish and the wound seemed to be coagulating. The laceration in his shoulder would have to be left for now as he didn't think he could bear the thought off taking of his undershirt, as after everything he had just done, he was too exhausted to try, or even care.

He leaned into the wall, and inch by painful inch, made his way onto his feet. Once he was upright, and the world had stopped spinning, he walked, or rather limped, one step at a time to the rooftop door. He had a feeling it would be locked, but had to try anyway. He knew his phone was no longer in his pocket, having already checked, so this was literally his only other way of getting off the damned roof. Finally making his way over to the door, he leaned heavily into the knob, and turned the handle – to find just as he had suspected, that it was locked.

"Well fuck me" he gasped. Walking the short distance to the door had sapped his energy and he collapsed into a heap on the ground.What the fuck am I going to do now? He thought despairingly. He wasn't sure how much longer he could remain conscious, let alone upright, and it was getting colder out here, it seemed, by the minute. He had begun shivering, though his skin felt warm to the touch.

Fever.

Which meant infection.

You really fucked yourself this time Callaghan.

Well he didn't really do it to himself. It's not like he shot himself, or tried to slice his arm off with a scalpel. Or beat his own head in. No, that was thanks to the psycho who decided that his ER would be the perfect place to stage an escape. On Halloween no less. And TC happened to be the unlucky one who found the dead officers in his hospital room.

All of a sudden the rooftop started spinning around him.

And he vomited.