A/N My muse has led me in a different direction than originally intended. My current outline has the story following adult Andy until the final chapter, which will step back into his youth and explain what happened after the robbery and death of his best friend in the first chapter. i apologize for taking so long with this update but I wrote myself into a corner with my original summary. I don't know how well I've captured the characters' voices so there is minimal dialogue for now. Personally, I'm not sure how I feel about it but it's been too long and I felt a responsibility to update. I hope you like it. ~Kelcor
Approximate Timeline: Seven Months Before episode "Good Intentions"
Dr. Andy Yablonski stood outside his patient's room, unable to quell the gnawing feeling in his gut that he knew this kid from somewhere. Paramedics had rushed him into the E.R. after finding him in a deserted alleyway downtown. The kid was lucky. If the EMT's hadn't happened by his location on their usual route, Scott Becker would have died from either the painfully obvious drug overdose or by exposure to the elements in the middle of March in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
Once at the hospital, both possible outcomes had been narrowly avoided due to the exceptional skills of Dr. Lisa Reed. As soon as the kid was no longer critical, Lisa had taken a closer look at the blood test results and the x-rays. And had immediately called Andy down to the ER.
Now, he stood here, wondering for the life of him where he knew Scott Becker from. The kid was too young for Andy to have met him through regular social circles, and he was pretty sure none of his friends had a teenage son. Dr. Yablonski was perplexed to say the least.
With another glance at Scott Becker's chart, Andy let himself into the room. According to the information provided, the kid was 17-years-old but he looked to be at least three years younger. Judging by his lack of muscular definition, Scott Becker had started using drugs at a very young age, perhaps as early as 12 or 13 years, which had stunted his growth and physical development. And, of course, there was the substituting food with the drug of choice, which, Andy knew from the chart, appeared to be cocaine.
Based on the condition of his heart and the Methylecgonidine in the kid's system, Andy surmised that Scott preferred to smoke the junk, rather than shoot it.
Using his stethoscope, he listened to Scott's heart and lungs. He glanced up when the kid began to regain consciousness and offered up a small smile to his newest patient. "Hey, Scott," Andy said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder in an effort to ground him. Welcome back to the land of the living. I'm Dr. Yablonski."
"Where am I," Scott mumbled, barely coherent.
"You're at Three Rivers Hospital."
"Hospital? What - " he gasped in pain when he tried to sit up.
"Easy there, Tiger," Andy gently admonished, easing him back onto the bed. "You've been through quite an ordeal."
"What happened?" Scott's voice was not much more than a whisper, a testament to his current weakened state.
"You had a drug overdose, which damaged your heart," Andy began, glancing back down at the chart as he spoke. "We're going to keep you here for a few days for observation - "
"A few days? No. No way," Scott argued, pushing himself off the bed. He tugged the wires off his arms and chest, pulled out his IV.
Andy's attention whipped back to his patient. "Whoa! Where do you think you're going?"
"Anywhere but here," he declared.
The was doing his best to ignore the pain but his face had paled drastically and tiny beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Andy quickly blocked his path to the door. "I can't let you leave, Scott."
"You can't stop me," the teen said defiantly, bringing himself up to his full height but still falling short of Andy's 6'2" frame.
"Actually, I can. You are a minor. I am your doctor. You need parental consent before you can be released."
"Fat chance of that," Scott muttered.
"Listen, Scott," Andy began, placing a calming hand on the kid's shoulder.
This time, however, the contact had the exact opposite of the desired effect. "Don't touch me!" The teen pushed Andy away from him with surprising strength but before he could make another move for the door, a sharp pain erupted in his chest and his legs crumpled beneath him.
Andy lunged forward and caught the kid before he hit the floor. Slipping an arm beneath Scott's knees, he scooped him up into his arms and deposited him back onto the bed. "Nurse! I need a crash cart in here, STAT!"
3R3R3R3R3R
Dr. David Lee walked into the pub and was not at all surprised to find Andy sitting alone in a corner, several bottles of beer already emptied and scattered across the table. Without hesitation, he stepped up to the table and sat down next to his friend and colleague. For a few long moments, the two men sat in companionable silence.
"It took me up until my fourth beer to finally figure out who that kid reminds me of," Andy stated solemnly, a slight slur to his words.
"And who is that?"
Another silence descended upon them but, this time, it was laced with a tension that David didn't initially understand. Andy had developed bonds with patients before but none had been this strong, nor had any developed this quickly. Sensing that revelations were coming, David held his tongue and waited for his Fort-Knox-like friend to finally open up about something from his past.
"Me," Andy finally admitted.
David's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "You," he repeated, disbelief colouring his tone.
When Andy laughed, it was with self-deprecation and derision, but he didn't elaborate.
"How could this kid possibly remind you of yourself," David prompted.
Andy downed the last of his current bottle of beer and stood up to leave. His sudden swaying motion had David jumping to his feet and grasping his friend's arm to offer support.
"Forget I said anything," Andy mumbled.
David was unsure if this was a statement or a plea but the look in Andy's eyes told him it was the latter. This kind of admission wasn't really something David could easily forget, not if he wanted to call himself a friend. So, instead of answering, he got a better grip on his friend's arm and wrapped his own arm around Andy's waist. "Let's get you home."
"Not home," Andy slurred, eyes watering somewhat. "Just a hotel room, David. 's not my home."
"Yeah, I know, Andy," David said, looking away from Andy's uncharacteristic display of emotion. "I know."
3R3R3R3R3R
The next morning, Andy woke to a splitting headache and a weather forecast of snow and hurricane force winds. As the reporter announced his recommendation for people to stay off the roads, Andy admitted to himself that there were some benefits to his current living arrangements, even if it was just a hotel room. The sudden memory of a teary admission the previous night had him fast deciding to do his best to avoid Dr. David Lee as much as possible today.
3R3R3R3R3R
Wanting to check on Scott Becker's condition, Andy made that his first stop of the morning. As he approached the room, however, he was surprised to find an empty bed. He turned in a circle, searching for the gravely ill teen. Instead, his eyes fell upon Nurse Pam Acosta.
"Pam? Has Scott Becker been taken upstairs for additional tests?"
"I'm not sure. I just got here," she said, slipping her coat over the back of her chair. "Let me check."
Andy watched as she picked up the phone and started making a few phone calls, while simultaneously typing a few key words into her computer. When she hung up the phone a moment later, she looked up at him. "There's nothing on file for any scheduled tests, Andy. But he wouldn't have just left... would he?"
"I think that's exactly what he did. Son of a - " he cut himself off when a young girl stepped off the nearby elevator with her mother. The little girl eyed him with a wide eyed innocence that told him she had heard enough to know exactly what he'd been about to say. Andy smiled an apology at the girl's mother as he passed them to step into the elevator."
"Where are you going," Pam called out to him.
"I'm not sure yet," he replied, reaching out to press the button for the ground floor.
"Well, what do I tell Dr. Jordan?"
"Tell her I'm taking one of those vacation days she keeps pestering me about."
3R3R3R3R3R
After a quick call to Rena, and an argument about whether or not he should even be out on the streets in the first place, Andy had Scott Becker's last known address. The streets were deserted - apparently, everyone else had heeded the warnings of both the weather bureau and the police and stayed off the streets. Something he'd had every intention of doing, as well. Then Scott Becker disappeared and Andy just couldn't bring himself to let this kid go. He could tell from the information on the kid's chart that he was alone, no next of kin or family listed. The fact that no one had come by the hospital to check up on him was a pretty good hint, too. Whether his parents had died or he was a runaway, that was still up for debate, but Andy knew what it was like to feel completely alone in this world. He didn't want that for this kid. For any kid, really, but there was something special about Scott Becker.
Despite the lack of traffic, it was still slow going. The snow was really piling up, both on the roads and on his windshield. He risked another glance at the map on his lap, truly regretting not getting that stupid GPS device fixed sooner. Since he spent most of his time either at the hospital, in his hotel room, or at the pub across from the hospital, he never really used his car much and saw no urgency in getting the thing fixed. He was kicking himself now, though.
Finally, the correct street came into view and he made a left turn into a small subdivision about an hour outside downtown Pittsburgh. Andy was not at all surprised to find himself in a fairly well-to-do neighbourhood. People seemed all too ready to dismiss derelicts as part of a society that they would never fall into themselves. If they only knew how easy it could be to go from 'a little down on my luck' to living in a cardboard box, asking strangers for change just to get their next meal. Years ago, Andy had found that out the hard way, which was why he was always looking for a way to give a little something back - Scott Becker was that chance.
As he pulled up to the address Rena had given him, he got a glimpse of two dark figures running out of the house and across the lawn. Andy jumped out of his car, raising his arm against the snow and hail being pelted against him. "Hey, wait," he yelled over the roaring winds.
One of the figures stopped. A young girl. No more than 15 years old. She turned to Andy with a panicked look on her face. "We didn't mean to do it," she pleaded, her words just barely discernible over the hurricane force winds. "Please, help him. We didn't mean to do it."
"Didn't mean to do what? Where's Scott?"
The girl glanced fearfully at the house, then, without another word, she turned and followed her dark figured friend. The snow was falling so heavily, Andy lost sight of her within seconds. Not seeing any other course of action, he moved toward the house and stepped through the still open doorway, closing the door behind him and shaking the snow our of his hair and off his coat. He stomped his feet on the hardwood floor, creating two small puddles beneath his boots.
"Scott? Scott? Are you in here, kid?"
His calls were met with nothing but silence. He searched the downstairs. Other than a fridge and stove in the kitchen, the lower level rooms were completely empty. Andy turned his attention to the second floor of the house, ascending the steps with a mixture of trepidation and concern. In the brief time Andy had known the kid, Scott had never struck him as the strong silent type. Vulnerable, yes. With a heartache that he tried to hide from the rest of the world? Definitely. But certainly not quiet. And the continued silence emanating from the house did nothing to ease Andy's nerves.
As he reached the top landing, he heard a grunt and a barely stifled gasp of pain. After that, he was able to decipher the slightest sound of heavy, laboured breathing. He followed the sound to a room at the end of the hallway and opened the door.
There, in a far corner of the room, was Scott Becker, even paler than Andy remembered. His gaze moved over the boy and he quickly realized why the kid was so pale... Scott was bleeding from a bullet wound in his side!
TBC
A/N I took so long to update this that I probably don't deserve a review. I hope you'll leave one, anyway? *hopeful smile* ~Kelcor
