"I want him out.. I was willing to treat him like part of the family.. Then he does something like this!? He gave my son porn! He showed my son how to get illegal cable! What he did... He should be locked up, Peter!" Jackie fumed, pacing in the kitchen as Peter kept an eye on Jesse and Dave who were still asleep in the living room.
"Jackie.. I don't know.. I mean.. Dave was probably just trying to get the boy to like him.. I know when I was that age.." Peter mumbled as his sister beat him over the head with an oven mitt.
"We're not talking about your perverted years. This is my son.. My son who still plays with G-I Joe... Exposed to.. to that.. filth.."
***
"I know he's got a reputation for being a bit of a pig.." Peter mumbled on the doorstep.
"I know that.. I've seen that and he's NOT staying in my house, Peter." Cleo crossed her arms. "No way."
"Please honey.." He stuck out his bottom lip and dropped to his knees, grasping her hands in his and kissing them. "Please? I'll make it worth your while.. I promise.."
***
"I don't know what I want you to say, Paul.." Barb said quietly. "Do I want you to say you're sorry?? I don't know, because I don't know if you are sorry."
Paul sighed. "I've been medicated, I've been apprised of my actions, I am aware of what I've done. I am also aware that because of the medications I'm on.. That I'm now apparently fit to stand trial. Am I sorry for what I've done? Yes.. Because if I'm found guilty.. I'll spend life in prison. If I'm found not guilty by reason of insanity, I'll spend my life in here.. Not exactly a good prospect for me."
"Or my daughter.." Barbara said coldly. "She'll never graduate.. She'll never become a doctor. Lucy will never have another boyfriend, or marry or have children. She'll never grow old, or see another sunrise. My daughter will never laugh, she will never cry.. She will never be.. Ever again. You did that Mr.Sobriki, whether aware of your actions at the time or not. You stole my daughter's life. You're a murderer.."
"Ms.Knight.." Karl DeRaad said softly, tugging back on her arm.
"Leave me alone.." She snapped, advancing on the bed. "You not only ruined my daughter's chances at life, but you ruined my life.. You ruined the life of a young man.. He holds himself responsible for her death.. When it was YOU that did it.. You've taken the meaning out of all our lives. You will pay for that. I swear to you."
***
"Peter... Did you know that Sobriki had a wife??" Cleo said softly as she walked to the kitchen table.
"I heard something mentioned. Something about her being admitted to OB?" Peter sighed, Dave was still sitting out in the car. He hoped Cleo would let him stay here, options were running low and his patience was running thin.
"Yeah... She's pregnant.. Samantha Sobriki.. I admitted her into the ER with spotting.. It wasn't anything serious though. She should be okay. That poor woman.." Cleo sighed, her head dropping into her hands as she stared at the table top. "Not only is she a single mother.. The father is a murderer.. Not exactly a happy way to start a pregnancy." She bit her lip and picked up one of the medical journals stacked neatly in the middle of the table.
"I'd guess not.." Peter muttered, uncomfortably. "Look.. Cleo.. Dave's been sitting out in the car for an hour now.."
"Let him sit out there.. Jackie phoned me.. Warning me.. I know what he did.. That man is sick in the head." Cleo growled flipping through an article on genetics and the cloning of organs.
"Please, Cleo?! He needs a place to stay. I disconnected the cable.. Jackie burned the magazines in a pot on the stove.. Dave's lost his 'evil' power over the young impressionable teens of Chicago.." Peter sighed. "Pleeeeeeease?"
"FINE! He sleeps in the 'spare room.' I don't have to feed him.. I don't have to deal with him." She muttered irritably as Peter sighed.
"The man can't stand up on his own steam.. He can barely lift a fork, and needs help to the bathroom." He said quietly. "You'd need to help him.."
"PETER!! Why did you ever release this man!? He can't feed himself, he can't go to the bathroom by himself and he can't stand up? He should be admitted at County.." Cleo snapped at him angrily.
"We had to release him. The insurance that covered him with work, ran out.. He doesn't have anymore coverage.. The HMO he's with doesn't think that being admitted for something like that is worth their money.. and Dave refuses home care and any sort of facility." Peter said tiredly, having explained this to probably the hundredth person in the past couple of days.. Dammit, Dave was a pain in the ass.
"So because Dave refuses to have home care.. Because he refuses to be admitted to a home. So instead he leeches off me and your sister.. Doesn't seem fair." She stared out to the car where Dave had pressed his face against the glass and fallen asleep. "Fine.. He can stay here.. If he messes up my house.. He's gone.. Got it?"
Peter nodded. "Got it. He'll be good.. I promise."
"I don't take your promises as iron-clad anymore, Peter.. Let's just call this even. If Dave fucks up? You're going without sex for a month." She smiled evilly and followed him out to the car.
"Look.. Dave.. You HAVE to be good.. No scuffing her floors.. Clean up after yourself.. and what ever you do.. Man.. PLEASE use a coaster.. She's nuts.." Peter pleaded with the man as Cleo started to drag the stuff from the trunk.
"What's with all your care and concern, Dr. Pete?" Dave asked suspiciously. "She threaten to cut off your fuck n' cuddle privileges or something? Don't worry Pete.. I'll be good." He sighed. "Good as gold."
***
"Blake Dufresne.. You've had this pain for how long?" Peter tacked the films up onto the board.
"About a month or so.. I only decided to come in when I started to have bloody craps.." Blake muttered, reddening.
"Blood in your stool.. That is quite serious, Mr.Dufresne.. I can also assume, blood in your urine as well?" The surgeon ran his finger over the films and sighed.
"Yes.. How did you know?"
Peter groaned. "I'll have to do a blood work up.. A stool sample.. a urine sample, but Mr.Dufresne. It looks like you have an advanced stage of bowel cancer.. It's metastasized to your urinary tract.."
Idiot.. Get sick.. Figure you'll go when you feel 'really sick'.. Now he's in here and they'd have to take out 60 per cent of his bowel, 20 per cent of his intestinal tract and god knows how much of his damned urinary tract.. The guy'd be on bags and tubes for the rest of his life. "Chuni.. Order a stool sample, a urine sample, CBC, Lytes.. Get Mr.Dufresne a bed."
As Peter walked to the elevators to reserve an OR, his pager vibrated.
"Cleo.. hey.. baby.. calm down.. What did he do?? Cleo.. Shhh... I don't
think it could be THAT bad.." Peter stammered. Damn Malucci..