Stories from the City 1/12
By: Jenny Brown
Category: Carter Angst
Rating: PG, adult situations...although there will be one or two NC-17 parts
Spoilers: Season Six and Season Seven up to "Surrender"
DISCLAIMER: ER and its characters are the property of Warner Bros. Entertainment, Amblin Television, NBC, Michael Crichton and Constant C Productions. There is no copyright infringement intended. This has been written purely for the enjoyment of ER fans everywhere. I am receiving no monetary compensation for my work. These ideas belong to this author and in no way reflect the values or intentions of the creators and writers of ER.
Summary: Carter deals with a crisis, and gets some help along the way. This story happens over a long period of time.
Note: This is almost a song fic, except it's not. It's based on the songs and lyrics from PJ Harvey's brilliant album "Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea."
~Look out ahead
I see danger come
I wanna' pistol
I wanna' gun
I'm scared baby
I wanna' run
This world's crazy
Give me the gun~
"Time of Death, 10:47."
Carter sighed as he ripped off his trauma gown and threw it on the cluttered floor. The rooms silent atmosphere stood in stark contrast to the frenzied activity that had filled it moments before, when a synchronized team of nurses, doctors and med students had tried to resuscitate a five year old MVA victim. Her body was tiny compared to the bloodstained gurney she rolled in on.
"Great way to start the day.... He thought to himself as he took one last look at the girl, now being cleaned by the nurses.
"Did we ever get a name?" he asked.
"Ashleigh Blackburn, her mom was in....trauma 2, I think," Chuny replied. "It's so sad. Her dad was DOA."
"Yeah, well, we tried.... I guess I should tell the mom." Carter ran his fingers through his ruffled mane in an attempt to look presentable when he gave the news. It was the least he could do, considering she would remember this moment forever. He briefly considered stalling, as if withholding this bit of information would make it go away, so the woman could believe her life was whole for just a little while longer. But he couldn't do that; it was his responsibility to tell her that Ashleigh had died, for no reason other than the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Carter took one last deep breath before he pushed through the trauma bay doors. He knew how confused and frightened the woman must be. It was only a year ago that he laid on that table wondering if Lucy was still alive. Mrs. Blackburn needed to know.
He was going over the speech in his head (we used all our capabilities, and tried to resuscitate her for over an hour, but I'm sorry. Her injuries were too grave and....) when he noticed that the eerie stillness that permeated trauma one had filled this room as well.
"Abby, what happened? I thought she was stable." Carter questioned as he waded through the debris on the floor towards the gurney where Abby was finishing up the death kit.
"She was initially. I think it was her aorta. You know the drill...full arrest from blunt trauma...not much we could do. She died around 10:45. What did you need?" Abby looked at John with concern.
"I...I was just...coming in to let her know...that her daughter died at 10:47." Carter stammered, trying to fully understand what had just happened. A whole family wiped out on a Sunday morning. It was senseless, unfair, and a thousand other things. This just plain sucked.
"Oh.... well, you better let Weaver know. The sister is coming in and Weaver was going to break the news...Are you sure you're okay? Do you want to get some coffee?"
"Um...yeah, just let me find Weaver. I'm due for a break anyhow. Meet you at Doc's in 15?" John asked while pushing through the double doors. He paused, waiting for her answer.
"Better make it 20. I gotta check on a LOL in three. Cops found her on the EL singing show tunes at the top of her lungs. We gave her some haldol but I wanna make sure she doesn't shuffle off to Buffalo again." Abby flashed a grin as she pushed past Carter, pausing to give him a reassuring pat on the arm.
Carter watched as Abby made her way through the hall, weaving through the crash carts, gurneys and medical personnel with the practiced gait of an experienced nurse. She really seemed to have it together. He often wondered if her cravings were as omnipresent as his...if she found herself staring at patients with open fractures or other horrible injuries and almost wishing to take their place; just so he could feel that warm tingling rush through his body, enveloping his brain in a painless fog.... He doubted it. She'd been sober for five years. That seemed like an eternity.
John shook his head, trying to stop the flood of thoughts parading through his brain. He was at work. He had to think about patients, labs, charts, home orders, and tests. He also had to find Kerry and tell her about Ashleigh.
~Baby, baby
Ain't it true
I'm immortal
When I'm with you
But I want a pistol
In my hand
I want to go to
A different land~
Doc's was nearly empty when he entered the dive. The midmorning rush was over and the lunch rush wouldn't start for another hour or so. John slid into an empty booth, perusing the well-worn menu, while he waited for Abby. It wasn't that he needed to look at the menu, he could practically recite it verbatim now; he just needed to take his mind off of this morning...and of what he really wanted to do. He brushed a few crumbs off the slightly greasy Formica, sighing as he realized he still had 8 hours left in his shift. He quickly replaced the menu, as the familiar brunette entered the diner.
Carter waved her over to the booth, standing up like a courteous gentleman before she sat down.
"Hey, you order yet?" she asked, arranging her coat on the seat next to her while she settled in to the padded, pleather bench. She reached into the outer pocket of the coat and dug out a misshapen pack of cigarettes. "Do you mind?" she said as she whipped one out and lit up. "It's been a horrible day and I still have 4 more hours."
"Yeah...go ahead." He paused for a moment, carefully considering whether or not to ask her for a drag. He looked up at her. "Um...Abby, could I?"
"Didn't you quit?" Abby gave him a slightly condescending smile.
"Yeah." He reached over the table and grabbed the cigarette, taking a quick inhale before he could think twice. "I did....but..." He exhaled and gave Abby a look that was a mixture of guilt, pleasure, sarcasm and puppy dog eyes.
"Oh...bad day, hunh. I don't think mine could get much worse. I swear to God, the next code brown....I've had to change scrubs twice already." The waitress walked over. "Two coffees please, you want anything else?" She looked at John, waiting for his answer. He shook his head, staring down at the spoon by his cup. "Carter, are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." He shook his head, an unconscious habit that gave his true feelings away.
"John..." She eyed him suspiciously, knowing he wasn't fine. She reached for the cigarette, brushing lightly against his hand. "What's up?"
He should have know he couldn't hide it from her. He'd always been a horrible liar. "Oh...well, you know. It's always sad when a young person dies, and, today, with that girl...I mean...it was a whole family, just going for a drive and BLAM, they're gone...I bet they didn't see it coming...And I find myself hoping that it was the whole family, just so there wouldn't be anyone left alone, wondering just what they did to deserve it." He grabbed the cigarette back and took a long drag. "And I guess that's why I'm a little down right now. Is that okay with you?"
"Yeah, of course." The waitress brought over the coffee. "Thanks." Abby inhaled the rich aroma of the java before she took a sip, savoring the bitterness. "Are you sure that's it?"
John shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Abby's knowing stare. It wasn't just the trauma, that much he knew, but he admitting his cravings to Abby wasn't something he was prepared to do. Only a week ago, he had confessed his addiction to his cousin Chase, but he still didn't want to tell Abby, even though he knew she'd understand it better than anyone else would. While he could finally admit to himself how bad it had been, he didn't want his coworkers to know just yet. Chase was safe; he wasn't about to let the whole world know and he wouldn't be able to tell anyone anyway.
"No....yeah, I'm fine...really." John reached for his coffee, changing the subject quickly. "So...what are you doing on the 28th?"
"Nothing, I think....why?" said Abby, with one eyebrow raised. 'That was smooth,' she thought,, knowing that John would tell her what was bothering him when he was ready. "Another benefit? Where's it this time, the aquarium?"
"No, not a benefit, but my grandfather did enjoy meeting you, and now Gamma's bugging me...she wants to meet you." John gave her a quick smile, looking at her expectantly. "They're having a family/business friendly dinner party thing. What'd you say? It's definitely not formal and I can guarantee we won't run into Richard."
"Well, that's a plus..." Abby thought for a moment, considering the message she was sending him. She couldn't deny her attraction to him, but it wasn't the right time for either of them. He was still in the early stages of recovery, and she was just getting over her break up with Luka. "I'll go...yeah...I wanted to meet your grandmother. She sounds like an interesting lady. It'll be fun." She gulped down the rest of her coffee, glancing at her watch. "Yikes, I better go. I've got labs waiting. Only three and a half more hours...Yay!" Abby rolled her eyes as she stood up and patted John on the shoulder. "I'll talk to you later."
"Yeah...bye." John watched her as she left, sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair. This day couldn't get much worse. At least he had that dinner with Abby to look forward to...even if it was only a business thing. He hauled himself out of the booth and left a five on the table, trudging back to work.
"I met a man
He told me straight
'You gotta leave
It's getting late'
Too many cops
Too many guns
All trying to do something
No-one else has done"
"What'd you got?"
"GSW to the chest, last BP was 80 over 40, no lung sounds on the left. IV's running wide open." Paramedic Olbes stopped as they moved the boy to the trauma gurney. "Rescue 7 is following us in, Cop got hurt, just his hand though...I'm outta here, have fun kids!"
"Thanks." Luka barely looked up as Olbes left; he was too busy assessing the rapidly deteriorating patient. "No breath sounds on the left with a tracheal shift. We've got a pneumothorax. Set up for a chest tube." The various personnel moved in sync, setting up the chest tube tray while cutting off clothes, checking IV lines and looking for additional wounds. "Abby, go check on that cop." Luka said brusquely, giving her a slightly exasperated look.
"Wait a minute. I have to start another IV. This one's infiltrated." Abby returned his exasperated look with her own look of annoyance.
"Not in a minute. Now! Lydia can take care of that. Go look after the cop." He quickly turned his attention back to the patient, embarrassed by his outburst.
Abby sighed as she removed her trauma gown, throwing it into the bin as she exited trauma 2 and made her way to exam 4 to check on the cop. Luka had been avoiding her all week, ever since they decided to break up last Friday. It seemed like a mutual decision at the time, but as Abby looked back on it, she had pushed him into agreeing with her that their relationship was headed nowhere. And it was...in her opinion. Luka wanted more...he wanted a family, a home, a wife...and Abby wanted none of those things. She'd been married and knew how many things could go wrong....and children, well, she couldn't bear the idea of bringing a child into the world if it was possible for her to pass along her mother's illness. She'd seen where their relationship was heading and wanted to save Luka some pain in the long run. He'd just started to get over the dark cloud of gloom that had hung over his head for the past year and she didn't want to induce another...as self-important as that may seem.
She stopped by admit, grabbing the chart that Chuny had started on the policeman. Putting on her 'nurse' face, she entered exam four. "Officer Hansen? I'm Abby Lockhart, your nurse. I'm going to clean your arm and then a doctor will be in to see you; if you need stitches." She carefully removed the dressing, noting Officer Hansen's flinch. "I'll try not to hurt you, but the saline solution may sting a bit."
"Don't worry about it. I just wasn't ready. Is that the kid they brought in?" He looked through the window of trauma 2, where Luka and his team were working feverishly to save the kid. Abby nodded. "You know, I must see 4 or 5 kids like that a week...gang violence...it's just sad....hey!" He jerked his hand back as Abby irrigated the wound. "That smarts."
"Sorry." Abby carefully poured the rest of the saline solution over his lac. "Well, you're lucky. It doesn't look like you'll need stitches. I'm going to get a doc to write a scrip for antibiotics, but other than that, change the dressing once a day and keep it dry. If it gets red or starts to hurt, come back in...we'll fix you up." Abby looked up at the cop, noticing his attention was elsewhere. They were finishing up in trauma 2; it looked like the kid hadn't made it. "Officer Hansen?"
"Hmm..." He turned back to Abby. "Oh yeah...keep it dry and clean...right....man...just seems like you help one kid, another dies...and so on...that kid who just died...his friends are going to fight back...someone else will probably die...not much we can do..."
"Well, we can try...and we can patch up the ones that do live, so that maybe someone like you can get through to them." Abby looked into his eyes, patting his shoulder reassuringly. "I'll get that scrip."
Abby left the room reluctantly. They did see a lot of gang violence and there wasn't a lot they could do. 'Oh well, treat 'em and street 'em.' She thought as she walked through the hall looking for a doc.
"Luka...I need an antibiotic scrip for that cop in 4." Abby approached him cautiously, searching his face for any signs of anger.
"Abby, I'm sorry about what happened in trauma 2. I didn't mean it." He looked in her eyes, begging her forgiveness. He knew that parting ways with her was for the best, but it didn't make him feel any better about it. He reached for the chart. "So...standard protocol antibiotics...and there you go. No hard feelings?"
"Of course not, somebody needed to see that cop." Abby gave him a small smile as she took the chart from him. "And now, I'm off. Finally! See you tomorrow." She watched as Luka walked away.
As she neared admit, she noticed the small crowd of personnel staring at a figure at the other side of the desk. She came to the back of the crowd, curious as to what or who they were watching and why. "Malik, what are you looking at?" she whispered.
"Oh, hey Abby, we're watching Carter. Dude hasn't moved in ten minutes. We're going to see how long he can sit there." Malik smiled, enjoying the camaraderie.
"I'll bet he doesn't move for another 5." Malucci grinned as he laid down a ten. "Anyone else?"
Abby rolled her eyes. "God Malucci...what happened? Did he just come up and sit there?"
"No, he got a phone call and hasn't moved an inch since."
"Man, you guys. Did anyone think to ask him if anything's wrong?" Abby admonished the others, sometimes they could be so insensitive. She made her move, placing her chart in the rack and moving to where John was sitting. She came up behind him quietly, not wanting to startle him. She reached out and tapped him on the shoulder lightly.
"John...are you okay?" She didn't get a response, so she moved in front of him, keeping her hand on his shoulder. "John?"
Slowly, John looked up with a slightly confused expression on his face. "Abby? What is it?"
"You've been sitting here for 10 minutes. You haven't moved an inch."
"Really?" John's confused expression multiplied. "I didn't realize. Man, I gotta get some sleep."
Abby was scared by his lack of recall. "Are you sure you're okay? Malik said you had a phone call before you sat down. Did something happen?"
John's confused expression turned into one of horror, but quickly became blank again. He stood up quickly, grabbing his lab coat from the back of the chair. "I gotta go." He started for the ambulance bay, not even looking back at admit. "Tell Kerry I have to go."
Abby followed him, worried by his sudden change of mood. "John, what happened? Why do you have to go?"
"I gotta go. Just tell Kerry, okay?" He was getting a little annoyed at Abby and her insipid questions. "I have to go!"
"I'll tell Kerry. Slow down!" Abby grabbed his arm, stopping him and stepping in front of him. "John, just tell me what happened." She searched his eyes for a hint, surprised to see tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
"Let go! I'll tell you alright! Just let go!" Abby let go of his arm, but kept in front of him as he continued walking to the garage. "It's nothing really...I'll be fine...I just have to go home...my family needs me."
"Why does your family need you, John?" They reached the elevator in the parking garage and John got in, motioning for Abby to stay out of the elevator. As the doors closed, she finally got her answer.
He ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing his temples and avoiding Abby's concerned gaze.
"He died...My father's dead."
"I walk on concrete
I walk on sand
But I can't find
A safe place to land
I'm scared baby
I wanna run
This world's crazy
Gimme the gun"
By: Jenny Brown
Category: Carter Angst
Rating: PG, adult situations...although there will be one or two NC-17 parts
Spoilers: Season Six and Season Seven up to "Surrender"
DISCLAIMER: ER and its characters are the property of Warner Bros. Entertainment, Amblin Television, NBC, Michael Crichton and Constant C Productions. There is no copyright infringement intended. This has been written purely for the enjoyment of ER fans everywhere. I am receiving no monetary compensation for my work. These ideas belong to this author and in no way reflect the values or intentions of the creators and writers of ER.
Summary: Carter deals with a crisis, and gets some help along the way. This story happens over a long period of time.
Note: This is almost a song fic, except it's not. It's based on the songs and lyrics from PJ Harvey's brilliant album "Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea."
~Look out ahead
I see danger come
I wanna' pistol
I wanna' gun
I'm scared baby
I wanna' run
This world's crazy
Give me the gun~
"Time of Death, 10:47."
Carter sighed as he ripped off his trauma gown and threw it on the cluttered floor. The rooms silent atmosphere stood in stark contrast to the frenzied activity that had filled it moments before, when a synchronized team of nurses, doctors and med students had tried to resuscitate a five year old MVA victim. Her body was tiny compared to the bloodstained gurney she rolled in on.
"Great way to start the day.... He thought to himself as he took one last look at the girl, now being cleaned by the nurses.
"Did we ever get a name?" he asked.
"Ashleigh Blackburn, her mom was in....trauma 2, I think," Chuny replied. "It's so sad. Her dad was DOA."
"Yeah, well, we tried.... I guess I should tell the mom." Carter ran his fingers through his ruffled mane in an attempt to look presentable when he gave the news. It was the least he could do, considering she would remember this moment forever. He briefly considered stalling, as if withholding this bit of information would make it go away, so the woman could believe her life was whole for just a little while longer. But he couldn't do that; it was his responsibility to tell her that Ashleigh had died, for no reason other than the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Carter took one last deep breath before he pushed through the trauma bay doors. He knew how confused and frightened the woman must be. It was only a year ago that he laid on that table wondering if Lucy was still alive. Mrs. Blackburn needed to know.
He was going over the speech in his head (we used all our capabilities, and tried to resuscitate her for over an hour, but I'm sorry. Her injuries were too grave and....) when he noticed that the eerie stillness that permeated trauma one had filled this room as well.
"Abby, what happened? I thought she was stable." Carter questioned as he waded through the debris on the floor towards the gurney where Abby was finishing up the death kit.
"She was initially. I think it was her aorta. You know the drill...full arrest from blunt trauma...not much we could do. She died around 10:45. What did you need?" Abby looked at John with concern.
"I...I was just...coming in to let her know...that her daughter died at 10:47." Carter stammered, trying to fully understand what had just happened. A whole family wiped out on a Sunday morning. It was senseless, unfair, and a thousand other things. This just plain sucked.
"Oh.... well, you better let Weaver know. The sister is coming in and Weaver was going to break the news...Are you sure you're okay? Do you want to get some coffee?"
"Um...yeah, just let me find Weaver. I'm due for a break anyhow. Meet you at Doc's in 15?" John asked while pushing through the double doors. He paused, waiting for her answer.
"Better make it 20. I gotta check on a LOL in three. Cops found her on the EL singing show tunes at the top of her lungs. We gave her some haldol but I wanna make sure she doesn't shuffle off to Buffalo again." Abby flashed a grin as she pushed past Carter, pausing to give him a reassuring pat on the arm.
Carter watched as Abby made her way through the hall, weaving through the crash carts, gurneys and medical personnel with the practiced gait of an experienced nurse. She really seemed to have it together. He often wondered if her cravings were as omnipresent as his...if she found herself staring at patients with open fractures or other horrible injuries and almost wishing to take their place; just so he could feel that warm tingling rush through his body, enveloping his brain in a painless fog.... He doubted it. She'd been sober for five years. That seemed like an eternity.
John shook his head, trying to stop the flood of thoughts parading through his brain. He was at work. He had to think about patients, labs, charts, home orders, and tests. He also had to find Kerry and tell her about Ashleigh.
~Baby, baby
Ain't it true
I'm immortal
When I'm with you
But I want a pistol
In my hand
I want to go to
A different land~
Doc's was nearly empty when he entered the dive. The midmorning rush was over and the lunch rush wouldn't start for another hour or so. John slid into an empty booth, perusing the well-worn menu, while he waited for Abby. It wasn't that he needed to look at the menu, he could practically recite it verbatim now; he just needed to take his mind off of this morning...and of what he really wanted to do. He brushed a few crumbs off the slightly greasy Formica, sighing as he realized he still had 8 hours left in his shift. He quickly replaced the menu, as the familiar brunette entered the diner.
Carter waved her over to the booth, standing up like a courteous gentleman before she sat down.
"Hey, you order yet?" she asked, arranging her coat on the seat next to her while she settled in to the padded, pleather bench. She reached into the outer pocket of the coat and dug out a misshapen pack of cigarettes. "Do you mind?" she said as she whipped one out and lit up. "It's been a horrible day and I still have 4 more hours."
"Yeah...go ahead." He paused for a moment, carefully considering whether or not to ask her for a drag. He looked up at her. "Um...Abby, could I?"
"Didn't you quit?" Abby gave him a slightly condescending smile.
"Yeah." He reached over the table and grabbed the cigarette, taking a quick inhale before he could think twice. "I did....but..." He exhaled and gave Abby a look that was a mixture of guilt, pleasure, sarcasm and puppy dog eyes.
"Oh...bad day, hunh. I don't think mine could get much worse. I swear to God, the next code brown....I've had to change scrubs twice already." The waitress walked over. "Two coffees please, you want anything else?" She looked at John, waiting for his answer. He shook his head, staring down at the spoon by his cup. "Carter, are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." He shook his head, an unconscious habit that gave his true feelings away.
"John..." She eyed him suspiciously, knowing he wasn't fine. She reached for the cigarette, brushing lightly against his hand. "What's up?"
He should have know he couldn't hide it from her. He'd always been a horrible liar. "Oh...well, you know. It's always sad when a young person dies, and, today, with that girl...I mean...it was a whole family, just going for a drive and BLAM, they're gone...I bet they didn't see it coming...And I find myself hoping that it was the whole family, just so there wouldn't be anyone left alone, wondering just what they did to deserve it." He grabbed the cigarette back and took a long drag. "And I guess that's why I'm a little down right now. Is that okay with you?"
"Yeah, of course." The waitress brought over the coffee. "Thanks." Abby inhaled the rich aroma of the java before she took a sip, savoring the bitterness. "Are you sure that's it?"
John shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Abby's knowing stare. It wasn't just the trauma, that much he knew, but he admitting his cravings to Abby wasn't something he was prepared to do. Only a week ago, he had confessed his addiction to his cousin Chase, but he still didn't want to tell Abby, even though he knew she'd understand it better than anyone else would. While he could finally admit to himself how bad it had been, he didn't want his coworkers to know just yet. Chase was safe; he wasn't about to let the whole world know and he wouldn't be able to tell anyone anyway.
"No....yeah, I'm fine...really." John reached for his coffee, changing the subject quickly. "So...what are you doing on the 28th?"
"Nothing, I think....why?" said Abby, with one eyebrow raised. 'That was smooth,' she thought,, knowing that John would tell her what was bothering him when he was ready. "Another benefit? Where's it this time, the aquarium?"
"No, not a benefit, but my grandfather did enjoy meeting you, and now Gamma's bugging me...she wants to meet you." John gave her a quick smile, looking at her expectantly. "They're having a family/business friendly dinner party thing. What'd you say? It's definitely not formal and I can guarantee we won't run into Richard."
"Well, that's a plus..." Abby thought for a moment, considering the message she was sending him. She couldn't deny her attraction to him, but it wasn't the right time for either of them. He was still in the early stages of recovery, and she was just getting over her break up with Luka. "I'll go...yeah...I wanted to meet your grandmother. She sounds like an interesting lady. It'll be fun." She gulped down the rest of her coffee, glancing at her watch. "Yikes, I better go. I've got labs waiting. Only three and a half more hours...Yay!" Abby rolled her eyes as she stood up and patted John on the shoulder. "I'll talk to you later."
"Yeah...bye." John watched her as she left, sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair. This day couldn't get much worse. At least he had that dinner with Abby to look forward to...even if it was only a business thing. He hauled himself out of the booth and left a five on the table, trudging back to work.
"I met a man
He told me straight
'You gotta leave
It's getting late'
Too many cops
Too many guns
All trying to do something
No-one else has done"
"What'd you got?"
"GSW to the chest, last BP was 80 over 40, no lung sounds on the left. IV's running wide open." Paramedic Olbes stopped as they moved the boy to the trauma gurney. "Rescue 7 is following us in, Cop got hurt, just his hand though...I'm outta here, have fun kids!"
"Thanks." Luka barely looked up as Olbes left; he was too busy assessing the rapidly deteriorating patient. "No breath sounds on the left with a tracheal shift. We've got a pneumothorax. Set up for a chest tube." The various personnel moved in sync, setting up the chest tube tray while cutting off clothes, checking IV lines and looking for additional wounds. "Abby, go check on that cop." Luka said brusquely, giving her a slightly exasperated look.
"Wait a minute. I have to start another IV. This one's infiltrated." Abby returned his exasperated look with her own look of annoyance.
"Not in a minute. Now! Lydia can take care of that. Go look after the cop." He quickly turned his attention back to the patient, embarrassed by his outburst.
Abby sighed as she removed her trauma gown, throwing it into the bin as she exited trauma 2 and made her way to exam 4 to check on the cop. Luka had been avoiding her all week, ever since they decided to break up last Friday. It seemed like a mutual decision at the time, but as Abby looked back on it, she had pushed him into agreeing with her that their relationship was headed nowhere. And it was...in her opinion. Luka wanted more...he wanted a family, a home, a wife...and Abby wanted none of those things. She'd been married and knew how many things could go wrong....and children, well, she couldn't bear the idea of bringing a child into the world if it was possible for her to pass along her mother's illness. She'd seen where their relationship was heading and wanted to save Luka some pain in the long run. He'd just started to get over the dark cloud of gloom that had hung over his head for the past year and she didn't want to induce another...as self-important as that may seem.
She stopped by admit, grabbing the chart that Chuny had started on the policeman. Putting on her 'nurse' face, she entered exam four. "Officer Hansen? I'm Abby Lockhart, your nurse. I'm going to clean your arm and then a doctor will be in to see you; if you need stitches." She carefully removed the dressing, noting Officer Hansen's flinch. "I'll try not to hurt you, but the saline solution may sting a bit."
"Don't worry about it. I just wasn't ready. Is that the kid they brought in?" He looked through the window of trauma 2, where Luka and his team were working feverishly to save the kid. Abby nodded. "You know, I must see 4 or 5 kids like that a week...gang violence...it's just sad....hey!" He jerked his hand back as Abby irrigated the wound. "That smarts."
"Sorry." Abby carefully poured the rest of the saline solution over his lac. "Well, you're lucky. It doesn't look like you'll need stitches. I'm going to get a doc to write a scrip for antibiotics, but other than that, change the dressing once a day and keep it dry. If it gets red or starts to hurt, come back in...we'll fix you up." Abby looked up at the cop, noticing his attention was elsewhere. They were finishing up in trauma 2; it looked like the kid hadn't made it. "Officer Hansen?"
"Hmm..." He turned back to Abby. "Oh yeah...keep it dry and clean...right....man...just seems like you help one kid, another dies...and so on...that kid who just died...his friends are going to fight back...someone else will probably die...not much we can do..."
"Well, we can try...and we can patch up the ones that do live, so that maybe someone like you can get through to them." Abby looked into his eyes, patting his shoulder reassuringly. "I'll get that scrip."
Abby left the room reluctantly. They did see a lot of gang violence and there wasn't a lot they could do. 'Oh well, treat 'em and street 'em.' She thought as she walked through the hall looking for a doc.
"Luka...I need an antibiotic scrip for that cop in 4." Abby approached him cautiously, searching his face for any signs of anger.
"Abby, I'm sorry about what happened in trauma 2. I didn't mean it." He looked in her eyes, begging her forgiveness. He knew that parting ways with her was for the best, but it didn't make him feel any better about it. He reached for the chart. "So...standard protocol antibiotics...and there you go. No hard feelings?"
"Of course not, somebody needed to see that cop." Abby gave him a small smile as she took the chart from him. "And now, I'm off. Finally! See you tomorrow." She watched as Luka walked away.
As she neared admit, she noticed the small crowd of personnel staring at a figure at the other side of the desk. She came to the back of the crowd, curious as to what or who they were watching and why. "Malik, what are you looking at?" she whispered.
"Oh, hey Abby, we're watching Carter. Dude hasn't moved in ten minutes. We're going to see how long he can sit there." Malik smiled, enjoying the camaraderie.
"I'll bet he doesn't move for another 5." Malucci grinned as he laid down a ten. "Anyone else?"
Abby rolled her eyes. "God Malucci...what happened? Did he just come up and sit there?"
"No, he got a phone call and hasn't moved an inch since."
"Man, you guys. Did anyone think to ask him if anything's wrong?" Abby admonished the others, sometimes they could be so insensitive. She made her move, placing her chart in the rack and moving to where John was sitting. She came up behind him quietly, not wanting to startle him. She reached out and tapped him on the shoulder lightly.
"John...are you okay?" She didn't get a response, so she moved in front of him, keeping her hand on his shoulder. "John?"
Slowly, John looked up with a slightly confused expression on his face. "Abby? What is it?"
"You've been sitting here for 10 minutes. You haven't moved an inch."
"Really?" John's confused expression multiplied. "I didn't realize. Man, I gotta get some sleep."
Abby was scared by his lack of recall. "Are you sure you're okay? Malik said you had a phone call before you sat down. Did something happen?"
John's confused expression turned into one of horror, but quickly became blank again. He stood up quickly, grabbing his lab coat from the back of the chair. "I gotta go." He started for the ambulance bay, not even looking back at admit. "Tell Kerry I have to go."
Abby followed him, worried by his sudden change of mood. "John, what happened? Why do you have to go?"
"I gotta go. Just tell Kerry, okay?" He was getting a little annoyed at Abby and her insipid questions. "I have to go!"
"I'll tell Kerry. Slow down!" Abby grabbed his arm, stopping him and stepping in front of him. "John, just tell me what happened." She searched his eyes for a hint, surprised to see tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
"Let go! I'll tell you alright! Just let go!" Abby let go of his arm, but kept in front of him as he continued walking to the garage. "It's nothing really...I'll be fine...I just have to go home...my family needs me."
"Why does your family need you, John?" They reached the elevator in the parking garage and John got in, motioning for Abby to stay out of the elevator. As the doors closed, she finally got her answer.
He ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing his temples and avoiding Abby's concerned gaze.
"He died...My father's dead."
"I walk on concrete
I walk on sand
But I can't find
A safe place to land
I'm scared baby
I wanna run
This world's crazy
Gimme the gun"
