Part Two
Carter rolled over and groaned, preparing himself for the onslaught of his landlady's feminist-style music, but upon lifting the pillow, he heard nothing.
"'s funny," his voice was gravelly from disuse, "heard something…" So he paused, then sat up, running a hand through his hair and down over his face. And then he heard it again: first, a cry, then something sounded vaguely like retching.
"Kerry!" Carter flew from the bed and pounded up the stairs, finding himself in her open bathroom doorway seconds later. She was gripping the sides of the toilet as if it were a life preserver, head hanging over it, lips pursed, tears wet against her face. Without a thought, his medical training kicked in and he made his way to her, asking softly, "Need some help?"
Kerry waved her hand and shook her head, then inhaled sharply and began to heave again, tears blurring her vision and sliding down her cheeks. Carter slid behind her, supporting her body with a hand on her forehead and the other at her side. After a moment, the ER doctor realized that trying to stop her tears only made her heave harder, so she allowed a small sob as the episode ended. After another moment, Carter pulled her toward him, leaning her back against his bare chest, and whispered, "Better?"
She nodded slowly, and he handed her a small sip of water in the cup he'd fumbled for beside the sink and filled. "Easy," he reminded, watching her spit it in the toilet before reaching up and flushing it. "I'm going to help you back to bed," he added, taking in her pale skin and exhausted expression. Not seeing her crutch, Carter opted to lift her, and despite a few quiet protests, he was soon pulling back the covers and cacooning her beneath them.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd connected the feel of his arms on her naked legs, her face nestled against his chest. And she could smell him – clean and masculine and comfortable.
"Don't move, Kerry. I'm going to get you some dry toast," Carter grinned impishly, attempting to lift her spirits, "I'll try not to break the toaster."
"Don't you dare," she rasped, turning her head into the pillow as he walked toward the door. "Thank you," Kerry added, "but you don't have to, I'll be okay. It passes."
Carter nodded, but reiterated, "Dry toast, be right back," and headed to the kitchen. He wondered momentarily if she'd been sick the previous night, which explained why she was already asleep when he arrived to find dinner done and waiting. "It passes," she'd said, and her words bounced against the walls of Carter's brain. On his way up to the room, he finally realized what she'd said.
"Hey," John sighed, watching her nibble cautiously on the toast before slightly smiling in appreciation. He was slightly hesitant to ask, but decided to risk permanent damage to life and limb for the sake of their friendship, "Are you pregnant?"
He had expected her to yell, demand, or even slap him, but she didn't even glare at him, she only dropped the toast, clasped her hands together, and nodded. Carter's voice was caught in his throat for a moment, but he finally managed to mumble a congratulations. Again, she nodded and then he noticed she'd begun to cry again.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting across from her.
After her silent deliberation, Kerry decided to confide in him as she had so many times before. She still felt odd and found her actions to be somewhat uncharacteristic of herself, but shook it away and whispered, "He doesn't want it. It would be okay if… if he doesn't want me, I… I'm used to it, but he doesn't want the baby," her words spilled forth without thought, "He called it a bastard and told me to get rid of it; he said I was ruining his life," her next words were sobbed. "It is a baby!"
"Ellis West?" he questioned a moment later, absorbing the emotional reactions more than the words. He didn't want Kerry, he didn't want his own child. What kind of an idiot was he? Anger kinked the muscles in his shoulders as he moved to sit beside her, leaning her against him again, "You shouldn't think that, you are wanted, Kerry, and so is your baby; I'll take care of you," he wanted to say but feared his own reaction to the words he knew she'd say. Instead, he smoothed her hair backward and soothed, "Hey, he's a prick, Kerry. He doesn't deserve you or this child. He is the bastard. It will be okay, though, you'll see, no matter what you do."
She nodded as he peeled her hands away, and she caught the rage in his eyes that he wanted to release on Ellis.
"Every child should have a father and a mother," Kerry argued quietly, "I was abandoned, Carter, I know how it feels! I grew up alone, in that place… that orphanage, in Nairobi…" she turned away, even as he brushed at her tears, "I don't want him back, I just want him to love his child," she paused, "I want this baby. I won't get rid of it, I won't."
"I'm sorry, Kerry," the resident murmured, pulling her into his arms, "Whatever West says or thinks, just remember that this child already has a wonderful mother who's already worrying frantically about his or her welfare as only the best of mothers do," he smiled over her shoulder, realizing that, for once, she wasn't fighting his presence or his comfort, "You're going to be a great mother, Kerry, and that's all that matters." As an afterthought, he added, "I've always thought so."
"You did?" her voice had the questioning, innocent quality of a child's.
"I did and I do," he reassured, "It's going to be okay, it really is. I'm not just saying that," Carter comforted, rubbing her back. "Uncle Carter, nah, Uncle John sounds better. My first niece or nephew to spoil! And Aunt Jeanne – she's gonna love that!"
At that, Kerry laughed aloud, already picturing scenarios of John and a tow headed child and ice cream, and Jeanne and the same child playing on swings at the park. Almost as quickly, she flashed to an image of herself and a tiny baby wrapped in a receiving blanket, and she realized that Carter was right, despite everything, the end result would be the same, and it would be more than okay.
"I'm going to work today, Carter," she added sternly, a smile still upturning the corners of her lips, and he smiled back and nodded, knowing arguing with her was useless and morning sickness would pass.
"Go back to sleep," he suggested after a moment, laying her against her pillows and brushing her bangs from her face. And then he realized – she already had.
Carter attempted to move, but noted that his and Kerry's legs were somehow tightly intertwined, and so he decided to stay, hoping not to catch hell for it when she awoke. He grinned to himself, realizing that she really trusted him, and nothing could please him more at the moment. He leaned back against the pillows and resisted the urge to place his hand upon her stomach, wanting to tell her that even if the father didn't want it, he did, he would cherish the life inside of her. After several minutes of quietly watching Kerry, Carter too fell, a smile still gracing his face. Yeah, it would be okay.
---
Nine Hours Later
Cook County General
"We've got an MVA coming in! Hit and run: six year old hit by a car, vitals are bad, BP's 80 over 40 and dropping, body temp's down to 96," an unidentified voice called, and Kerry's head snapped up as she surveyed the sudden flurry of activity. Snow had begun to fall hours before, blocking traffic and keeping the staff in their positions at the hospital. "ETA… now!"
"Kerry, can you take that one? I've got another in Four!" Doug Ross called, and she nodded, left the chart she'd been glancing at on the counter, and headed toward the door, which burst open before she reached it.
"Bullet?" she called, and the EMT began speaking, repeating the same words as before.
"No change?" Kerry asked, nodding for Jeanne to insert the IV she held.
"Hasn't regained consciousness, he coded once already," Doris responded, shaking her head. Jeanne sighed as she hooked up the heart monitor.
"BP's dropping, going into V-fib… asystole," Kerry nodded as Lydia arrived with two thermal blankets, "Get me the cart!"
Moments later, Jeanne unhooked the IV, and Lydia exited, blankets still in her arms. Kerry stood, paddles lowered from her hands and shook her head, then sighed, hearing the inevitable "Call it," over her shoulder before the speaker left the room.
"Time of death, four-oh-seven p.m." She pulled the blanket further upward, slightly bowed her head, and placed a hand on the small child's arm. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and Jeanne looked up oddly at her when the words became clear.
Jeanne crinkled her brow as she observed Kerry blinking furiously and shaking her head. "Come on," she nodded and took the chart, and they exited. "Let's break?" she started to say, but turned too slowly and realized the attending had gone the other way and slipped into the ladies' room.
She sighed and deposited her things at the desk. "What's up with Weaver?" Carol asked, taking the chart.
"I don't know," the PA sighed, "but something's wrong." Idly, she added, "the boy in Three didn't make it, she took it kind of hard I think."
Carol's eyebrows slid upward and Jeanne headed toward the restroom, "I'd better make sure she's okay."
Doug passed her and moved to speak to Carol, "Jackass that hit that kid just took off, didn't even stop. I called Mercy when I got out of the other Trauma Room, no one's been there in the last hour or two that would fit the medical problems. Roads are practically closed, it's really going to slow down over the next hour or two, the ambulances can't get out." A frown was etched across his face. "Who took him?"
"Dr. Weaver," Carol informed him, "they lost him."
Doug sighed and raked a hand through his hair, "Dammit," he whispered, and walked off toward the lounge before Carol could inform him further.
"Kerry?" Jeanne called, tapping on the bathroom door twice before sliding inside. The redhead stood at the sink, her crutch leaned against the wall, her weight supported by her good leg, as she splashed water on her face.
It quickly became obvious to Jeanne that she hadn't heard the light rapping or her call, as she shook her head to her mirror image and muttered to herself, "God, Kerry, you've gotta stop it with the tears. You're stronger than this," and she grabbed a paper towel and patted her face, drying the tears that mingled with the water.
Jeanne stepped further into the room, grabbing another towel, and stood in front of her, offering it to her as she threw the other away and turned around. She jumped slightly, then cocked her head and accepted it, wiping the rest of the water away and raking her fingers through her hair. "Hi."
"Hey." Jeanne replied quietly, curiosity overcoming manners as she watched the older woman readjust her crutch and move back to where she'd stood before. "You okay?"
"I…" she paused a moment, "I'm used to saying 'yes, I'm fine' to this question, but Carter already lectured me on that this morning." Jeanne grinned a little at the image of Carter lecturing Kerry. Good-natured lecturing, no doubt. Kerry looked up at her, and walked toward the door. "Still slow out there?" Again, the PA nodded. "Want to go for that break? I'm not hungry, but I could use a minute to go over the rest of those charts."
"Isn't that Mark's job?" she cocked an eyebrow as they left the restroom, and Jeanne sighed, knowing her questions would have to wait until later.
"You'd think so, but he's not … very experienced in the administration field. Besides, it's slow, and I've got nothing better to do than chart review, even though I'm not the Chief anymore." Surprisingly, the bitter resignation that used to be in her voice at those words had faded away. Instead, she heard acceptance in her own words.
"Let's go sit in the lounge?" Jeanne suggested, but the words had barely left her mouth before she was interrupted.
"Kerry!" a man called, standing before the admit desk with a briefcase in his hand. "A moment, please?"
The doctor hesitated a moment, tightening her grip on the metal crutch at her side, "Wait for me in the lounge?" she asked Jeanne, then proceeded to nod and move slowly toward where he stood.
"We need to talk," he added.
Kerry said nothing for a moment, then sighed, "Ellis…"
He shook his head and held up a hand, "Don't, it's not that… never mind," he laid his briefcase against the corner of the desk farthest from Randi, Lydia, and Haleh, and removed a set of blue and white papers. "You should sign these."
With a quizzical expression, Kerry pulled her reading glasses from her pocket and perched them on her nose, taking the papers from him. She scanned over them quickly, her hands shaking as she returned her gaze to the top of the paper.
"You son of a bitch."
Carter rolled over and groaned, preparing himself for the onslaught of his landlady's feminist-style music, but upon lifting the pillow, he heard nothing.
"'s funny," his voice was gravelly from disuse, "heard something…" So he paused, then sat up, running a hand through his hair and down over his face. And then he heard it again: first, a cry, then something sounded vaguely like retching.
"Kerry!" Carter flew from the bed and pounded up the stairs, finding himself in her open bathroom doorway seconds later. She was gripping the sides of the toilet as if it were a life preserver, head hanging over it, lips pursed, tears wet against her face. Without a thought, his medical training kicked in and he made his way to her, asking softly, "Need some help?"
Kerry waved her hand and shook her head, then inhaled sharply and began to heave again, tears blurring her vision and sliding down her cheeks. Carter slid behind her, supporting her body with a hand on her forehead and the other at her side. After a moment, the ER doctor realized that trying to stop her tears only made her heave harder, so she allowed a small sob as the episode ended. After another moment, Carter pulled her toward him, leaning her back against his bare chest, and whispered, "Better?"
She nodded slowly, and he handed her a small sip of water in the cup he'd fumbled for beside the sink and filled. "Easy," he reminded, watching her spit it in the toilet before reaching up and flushing it. "I'm going to help you back to bed," he added, taking in her pale skin and exhausted expression. Not seeing her crutch, Carter opted to lift her, and despite a few quiet protests, he was soon pulling back the covers and cacooning her beneath them.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd connected the feel of his arms on her naked legs, her face nestled against his chest. And she could smell him – clean and masculine and comfortable.
"Don't move, Kerry. I'm going to get you some dry toast," Carter grinned impishly, attempting to lift her spirits, "I'll try not to break the toaster."
"Don't you dare," she rasped, turning her head into the pillow as he walked toward the door. "Thank you," Kerry added, "but you don't have to, I'll be okay. It passes."
Carter nodded, but reiterated, "Dry toast, be right back," and headed to the kitchen. He wondered momentarily if she'd been sick the previous night, which explained why she was already asleep when he arrived to find dinner done and waiting. "It passes," she'd said, and her words bounced against the walls of Carter's brain. On his way up to the room, he finally realized what she'd said.
"Hey," John sighed, watching her nibble cautiously on the toast before slightly smiling in appreciation. He was slightly hesitant to ask, but decided to risk permanent damage to life and limb for the sake of their friendship, "Are you pregnant?"
He had expected her to yell, demand, or even slap him, but she didn't even glare at him, she only dropped the toast, clasped her hands together, and nodded. Carter's voice was caught in his throat for a moment, but he finally managed to mumble a congratulations. Again, she nodded and then he noticed she'd begun to cry again.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting across from her.
After her silent deliberation, Kerry decided to confide in him as she had so many times before. She still felt odd and found her actions to be somewhat uncharacteristic of herself, but shook it away and whispered, "He doesn't want it. It would be okay if… if he doesn't want me, I… I'm used to it, but he doesn't want the baby," her words spilled forth without thought, "He called it a bastard and told me to get rid of it; he said I was ruining his life," her next words were sobbed. "It is a baby!"
"Ellis West?" he questioned a moment later, absorbing the emotional reactions more than the words. He didn't want Kerry, he didn't want his own child. What kind of an idiot was he? Anger kinked the muscles in his shoulders as he moved to sit beside her, leaning her against him again, "You shouldn't think that, you are wanted, Kerry, and so is your baby; I'll take care of you," he wanted to say but feared his own reaction to the words he knew she'd say. Instead, he smoothed her hair backward and soothed, "Hey, he's a prick, Kerry. He doesn't deserve you or this child. He is the bastard. It will be okay, though, you'll see, no matter what you do."
She nodded as he peeled her hands away, and she caught the rage in his eyes that he wanted to release on Ellis.
"Every child should have a father and a mother," Kerry argued quietly, "I was abandoned, Carter, I know how it feels! I grew up alone, in that place… that orphanage, in Nairobi…" she turned away, even as he brushed at her tears, "I don't want him back, I just want him to love his child," she paused, "I want this baby. I won't get rid of it, I won't."
"I'm sorry, Kerry," the resident murmured, pulling her into his arms, "Whatever West says or thinks, just remember that this child already has a wonderful mother who's already worrying frantically about his or her welfare as only the best of mothers do," he smiled over her shoulder, realizing that, for once, she wasn't fighting his presence or his comfort, "You're going to be a great mother, Kerry, and that's all that matters." As an afterthought, he added, "I've always thought so."
"You did?" her voice had the questioning, innocent quality of a child's.
"I did and I do," he reassured, "It's going to be okay, it really is. I'm not just saying that," Carter comforted, rubbing her back. "Uncle Carter, nah, Uncle John sounds better. My first niece or nephew to spoil! And Aunt Jeanne – she's gonna love that!"
At that, Kerry laughed aloud, already picturing scenarios of John and a tow headed child and ice cream, and Jeanne and the same child playing on swings at the park. Almost as quickly, she flashed to an image of herself and a tiny baby wrapped in a receiving blanket, and she realized that Carter was right, despite everything, the end result would be the same, and it would be more than okay.
"I'm going to work today, Carter," she added sternly, a smile still upturning the corners of her lips, and he smiled back and nodded, knowing arguing with her was useless and morning sickness would pass.
"Go back to sleep," he suggested after a moment, laying her against her pillows and brushing her bangs from her face. And then he realized – she already had.
Carter attempted to move, but noted that his and Kerry's legs were somehow tightly intertwined, and so he decided to stay, hoping not to catch hell for it when she awoke. He grinned to himself, realizing that she really trusted him, and nothing could please him more at the moment. He leaned back against the pillows and resisted the urge to place his hand upon her stomach, wanting to tell her that even if the father didn't want it, he did, he would cherish the life inside of her. After several minutes of quietly watching Kerry, Carter too fell, a smile still gracing his face. Yeah, it would be okay.
---
Nine Hours Later
Cook County General
"We've got an MVA coming in! Hit and run: six year old hit by a car, vitals are bad, BP's 80 over 40 and dropping, body temp's down to 96," an unidentified voice called, and Kerry's head snapped up as she surveyed the sudden flurry of activity. Snow had begun to fall hours before, blocking traffic and keeping the staff in their positions at the hospital. "ETA… now!"
"Kerry, can you take that one? I've got another in Four!" Doug Ross called, and she nodded, left the chart she'd been glancing at on the counter, and headed toward the door, which burst open before she reached it.
"Bullet?" she called, and the EMT began speaking, repeating the same words as before.
"No change?" Kerry asked, nodding for Jeanne to insert the IV she held.
"Hasn't regained consciousness, he coded once already," Doris responded, shaking her head. Jeanne sighed as she hooked up the heart monitor.
"BP's dropping, going into V-fib… asystole," Kerry nodded as Lydia arrived with two thermal blankets, "Get me the cart!"
Moments later, Jeanne unhooked the IV, and Lydia exited, blankets still in her arms. Kerry stood, paddles lowered from her hands and shook her head, then sighed, hearing the inevitable "Call it," over her shoulder before the speaker left the room.
"Time of death, four-oh-seven p.m." She pulled the blanket further upward, slightly bowed her head, and placed a hand on the small child's arm. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and Jeanne looked up oddly at her when the words became clear.
Jeanne crinkled her brow as she observed Kerry blinking furiously and shaking her head. "Come on," she nodded and took the chart, and they exited. "Let's break?" she started to say, but turned too slowly and realized the attending had gone the other way and slipped into the ladies' room.
She sighed and deposited her things at the desk. "What's up with Weaver?" Carol asked, taking the chart.
"I don't know," the PA sighed, "but something's wrong." Idly, she added, "the boy in Three didn't make it, she took it kind of hard I think."
Carol's eyebrows slid upward and Jeanne headed toward the restroom, "I'd better make sure she's okay."
Doug passed her and moved to speak to Carol, "Jackass that hit that kid just took off, didn't even stop. I called Mercy when I got out of the other Trauma Room, no one's been there in the last hour or two that would fit the medical problems. Roads are practically closed, it's really going to slow down over the next hour or two, the ambulances can't get out." A frown was etched across his face. "Who took him?"
"Dr. Weaver," Carol informed him, "they lost him."
Doug sighed and raked a hand through his hair, "Dammit," he whispered, and walked off toward the lounge before Carol could inform him further.
"Kerry?" Jeanne called, tapping on the bathroom door twice before sliding inside. The redhead stood at the sink, her crutch leaned against the wall, her weight supported by her good leg, as she splashed water on her face.
It quickly became obvious to Jeanne that she hadn't heard the light rapping or her call, as she shook her head to her mirror image and muttered to herself, "God, Kerry, you've gotta stop it with the tears. You're stronger than this," and she grabbed a paper towel and patted her face, drying the tears that mingled with the water.
Jeanne stepped further into the room, grabbing another towel, and stood in front of her, offering it to her as she threw the other away and turned around. She jumped slightly, then cocked her head and accepted it, wiping the rest of the water away and raking her fingers through her hair. "Hi."
"Hey." Jeanne replied quietly, curiosity overcoming manners as she watched the older woman readjust her crutch and move back to where she'd stood before. "You okay?"
"I…" she paused a moment, "I'm used to saying 'yes, I'm fine' to this question, but Carter already lectured me on that this morning." Jeanne grinned a little at the image of Carter lecturing Kerry. Good-natured lecturing, no doubt. Kerry looked up at her, and walked toward the door. "Still slow out there?" Again, the PA nodded. "Want to go for that break? I'm not hungry, but I could use a minute to go over the rest of those charts."
"Isn't that Mark's job?" she cocked an eyebrow as they left the restroom, and Jeanne sighed, knowing her questions would have to wait until later.
"You'd think so, but he's not … very experienced in the administration field. Besides, it's slow, and I've got nothing better to do than chart review, even though I'm not the Chief anymore." Surprisingly, the bitter resignation that used to be in her voice at those words had faded away. Instead, she heard acceptance in her own words.
"Let's go sit in the lounge?" Jeanne suggested, but the words had barely left her mouth before she was interrupted.
"Kerry!" a man called, standing before the admit desk with a briefcase in his hand. "A moment, please?"
The doctor hesitated a moment, tightening her grip on the metal crutch at her side, "Wait for me in the lounge?" she asked Jeanne, then proceeded to nod and move slowly toward where he stood.
"We need to talk," he added.
Kerry said nothing for a moment, then sighed, "Ellis…"
He shook his head and held up a hand, "Don't, it's not that… never mind," he laid his briefcase against the corner of the desk farthest from Randi, Lydia, and Haleh, and removed a set of blue and white papers. "You should sign these."
With a quizzical expression, Kerry pulled her reading glasses from her pocket and perched them on her nose, taking the papers from him. She scanned over them quickly, her hands shaking as she returned her gaze to the top of the paper.
"You son of a bitch."