Disclaimer: I don't own Dave, yadda, yadda, yadda…the writers of ER must be
on something if they're not bringing Dave back.
AN: So the thing about cracking the patient's chest is stoled from Brothers and Sisters. So? It's better if Dave's in it, right?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Dave! Oh my God, are you okay?" Gwen asked, rushing up to the resident.
Dave raised his eyebrows. "Gwen? What are you doing here?"
"I was at your apartment watching Jeremy, and the phone rang," Gwen explained breathlessly. "I came down ASAP."
"Yeah, I told them to call you…and I also told them to tell you that you didn't have to come here," Dave said.
"I ignored that part," Gwen replied. She gave him a small smile.
Dave sighed and smiled back. "Don't worry about me, Gwen, I'm okay. Actually the worst part of the day was being questioned by the police."
"Do they have the guy in custody?" she asked.
"Well, he's upstairs in the jail ward. I…" Dave started.
"He's still here?" Gwen asked, incredulously.
"Uh, yeah…"
"Why the hell is this guy still here? He's a maniac with a gun! Maniacs with guns should not still be here," Gwen said, rushing her words.
"Calm down, Gwen. He's here because his head got bashed when I tackled him," Dave told her.
"What??" she questioned, her eyes widening.
"Never mind," Dave replied, not wanting to bother explaining. "Who'd you leave Jeremy with?"
"Uh, Mrs. Carlisle," she said, rubbing her temples.
"Okay," Dave sighed. "Maybe you should be getting back."
Gwen looked up at him. After a moment she nodded. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," Dave laughed. "I'll be home in a few hours."
She nodded again, gave his hand a squeeze, and left.
Dave sighed with relief as soon as Gwen walked out the door. He turned to walk to the admit desk when Kerry stopped him.
"Malucci, what are you doing?" she demanded.
"Uh…going to find a patient?" he replied, meekly.
"Are you sure you should be walking around already? I mean, it's only been a few hours…"
"Chief, I'm cool," Dave said for what had to be the hundredth time.
"Malucci, it's okay if you want to get some more rest. We paged Carter and he's here now, so…"
"Why would you page Carter?" Dave asked.
"Well, just in case you…"
"I'm fine. I don't need any help," Dave told her, angrily.
"I know that, Malucci," she said sharply, her features hardening.
Dave bit his tongue and looked at the ground. "Sorry, Chief."
Kerry's expression softened. She started to say something, but she was interrupted by Carter's voice.
"We need somebody for this trauma!" he called.
Kerry looked at Dave. "Why don't you take this one," she offered.
Dave looked up at her and gave her a grateful smile. He ran to follow Carter, Haleh, and Pratt to the trauma room.
"What do we have now?" Dave inquired as he entered. He pulled on his gloves and gown and walked straight to the table.
"Twenty-four year old white male with stab wounds to the neck and chest," Carter explained.
"Funny how we seem to be having all the same traumas," Pratt commented.
"Shut up and concentrate, Pratt," Carter ordered. "We need to get a central line in."
"I'll do it," Dave offered, but Carter shook his head.
"It's okay, I've got it," he said quickly.
Dave looked at him oddly and stepped out of the way so Carter could put in the line.
"Almost there…okay, got it," Carter said, completing the procedure.
"Carter…" Dave started, almost fearfully.
Carter looked to see what Dave was looking at and his eyes widened.
"We need to get a chest tube! Get the tray," Carter said to Haleh, who nodded.
"Can I do it?" Pratt asked.
"No," Carter replied. "Dave, you want this?"
Dave raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Sure," he said, walking over. He took the ten-blade and made the incision. He looked up at caught of glimpse of Pratt eyeing a busy Carter. He finished what he was doing and stood up straight. As he stood, he stretched his shoulder and winced. Carter caught him and put on a concerned look.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Dave replied, his eyebrows furrowed. "It's just a skin wound, anyway."
"Carter, Dave, we need you two in the here," Abby called from the next trauma room.
"Okay, we'll be there in a minute," Carter replied, looking at Dave. "Come on. Pratt, I'm going to call Dr. Lewis in here. Don't do anything until she gets in."
Pratt nodded. Carter walked to the doors of the trauma room, opened them, and luckily spotted Susan talking to another patient. He pulled his bloody gloves off, threw them in the trash, and ran to her.
"Susan, can you take over in Trauma 3?" he requested.
"Uh, sure, I'll be there in a few," Susan replied.
"Thanks," Carter said, running back, this time entering Trauma 2, in which Dave had already gone.
Pratt stood before the patient and stared down at him. The monitor started beeping and his heartbeat sped up.
"Damn it, he's bleeding out!" Pratt said.
Haleh looked over and when she saw that Pratt was being honest, she quickly walked over.
"What do we do?" Pratt asked.
"We can't do anything, we have to wait for a doctor," Haleh lectured.
More beeping started and Pratt began to panic. "We have to crack him."
"Oh, no, you can't do that," Haleh told him, firmly.
"We can't wait! He'll die if we don't do it!" he cried.
"You don't have permission!" Haleh cried back.
"I don't care," Pratt replied, defiantly. He grabbed a scalpel, poured the saline over the man, and made an incision.
"What the hell do you think you're doing! You need permission from a resident to do that!" Haleh told him.
"You might want to let this guy die, but I don't," Pratt said. He grabbed the sternal saw and turned it on. He followed the incision he made and started down.
"Damn you," Haleh spat and quickly ran into the other trauma room.
"Carter, Dave, Pratt just opened that man's chest," Haleh told them.
"What?" Carter cried, incredulously.
"I told him not to," Haleh explained.
"Luka, do you got this?" Carter asked.
Luka nodded. "Go."
Carter motioned for Dave to follow him and the residents ran back to Trauma 3.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Carter demanded.
"I had to crack his chest," Pratt replied.
"You didn't have permission to do that," Dave said.
"This was a really stupid thing to do," Carter added as he took over. "Get out."
"Excuse me?" Pratt asked.
"Get out," Carter repeated.
Pratt gave him a shocked look. "Dr. Carter, I…"
"Pratt, leave," Dave told him.
The intern huffed and stormed out. Dave watched as and turned back to Carter who shook his head.
"I can't believe him," Carter said, looking up at Dave.
Dave remained silent, smiling to himself as he worked, knowing that Pratt would end up being in more trouble with the Chief and Carter than he could ever imagine.
AN: So the thing about cracking the patient's chest is stoled from Brothers and Sisters. So? It's better if Dave's in it, right?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Dave! Oh my God, are you okay?" Gwen asked, rushing up to the resident.
Dave raised his eyebrows. "Gwen? What are you doing here?"
"I was at your apartment watching Jeremy, and the phone rang," Gwen explained breathlessly. "I came down ASAP."
"Yeah, I told them to call you…and I also told them to tell you that you didn't have to come here," Dave said.
"I ignored that part," Gwen replied. She gave him a small smile.
Dave sighed and smiled back. "Don't worry about me, Gwen, I'm okay. Actually the worst part of the day was being questioned by the police."
"Do they have the guy in custody?" she asked.
"Well, he's upstairs in the jail ward. I…" Dave started.
"He's still here?" Gwen asked, incredulously.
"Uh, yeah…"
"Why the hell is this guy still here? He's a maniac with a gun! Maniacs with guns should not still be here," Gwen said, rushing her words.
"Calm down, Gwen. He's here because his head got bashed when I tackled him," Dave told her.
"What??" she questioned, her eyes widening.
"Never mind," Dave replied, not wanting to bother explaining. "Who'd you leave Jeremy with?"
"Uh, Mrs. Carlisle," she said, rubbing her temples.
"Okay," Dave sighed. "Maybe you should be getting back."
Gwen looked up at him. After a moment she nodded. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," Dave laughed. "I'll be home in a few hours."
She nodded again, gave his hand a squeeze, and left.
Dave sighed with relief as soon as Gwen walked out the door. He turned to walk to the admit desk when Kerry stopped him.
"Malucci, what are you doing?" she demanded.
"Uh…going to find a patient?" he replied, meekly.
"Are you sure you should be walking around already? I mean, it's only been a few hours…"
"Chief, I'm cool," Dave said for what had to be the hundredth time.
"Malucci, it's okay if you want to get some more rest. We paged Carter and he's here now, so…"
"Why would you page Carter?" Dave asked.
"Well, just in case you…"
"I'm fine. I don't need any help," Dave told her, angrily.
"I know that, Malucci," she said sharply, her features hardening.
Dave bit his tongue and looked at the ground. "Sorry, Chief."
Kerry's expression softened. She started to say something, but she was interrupted by Carter's voice.
"We need somebody for this trauma!" he called.
Kerry looked at Dave. "Why don't you take this one," she offered.
Dave looked up at her and gave her a grateful smile. He ran to follow Carter, Haleh, and Pratt to the trauma room.
"What do we have now?" Dave inquired as he entered. He pulled on his gloves and gown and walked straight to the table.
"Twenty-four year old white male with stab wounds to the neck and chest," Carter explained.
"Funny how we seem to be having all the same traumas," Pratt commented.
"Shut up and concentrate, Pratt," Carter ordered. "We need to get a central line in."
"I'll do it," Dave offered, but Carter shook his head.
"It's okay, I've got it," he said quickly.
Dave looked at him oddly and stepped out of the way so Carter could put in the line.
"Almost there…okay, got it," Carter said, completing the procedure.
"Carter…" Dave started, almost fearfully.
Carter looked to see what Dave was looking at and his eyes widened.
"We need to get a chest tube! Get the tray," Carter said to Haleh, who nodded.
"Can I do it?" Pratt asked.
"No," Carter replied. "Dave, you want this?"
Dave raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Sure," he said, walking over. He took the ten-blade and made the incision. He looked up at caught of glimpse of Pratt eyeing a busy Carter. He finished what he was doing and stood up straight. As he stood, he stretched his shoulder and winced. Carter caught him and put on a concerned look.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Dave replied, his eyebrows furrowed. "It's just a skin wound, anyway."
"Carter, Dave, we need you two in the here," Abby called from the next trauma room.
"Okay, we'll be there in a minute," Carter replied, looking at Dave. "Come on. Pratt, I'm going to call Dr. Lewis in here. Don't do anything until she gets in."
Pratt nodded. Carter walked to the doors of the trauma room, opened them, and luckily spotted Susan talking to another patient. He pulled his bloody gloves off, threw them in the trash, and ran to her.
"Susan, can you take over in Trauma 3?" he requested.
"Uh, sure, I'll be there in a few," Susan replied.
"Thanks," Carter said, running back, this time entering Trauma 2, in which Dave had already gone.
Pratt stood before the patient and stared down at him. The monitor started beeping and his heartbeat sped up.
"Damn it, he's bleeding out!" Pratt said.
Haleh looked over and when she saw that Pratt was being honest, she quickly walked over.
"What do we do?" Pratt asked.
"We can't do anything, we have to wait for a doctor," Haleh lectured.
More beeping started and Pratt began to panic. "We have to crack him."
"Oh, no, you can't do that," Haleh told him, firmly.
"We can't wait! He'll die if we don't do it!" he cried.
"You don't have permission!" Haleh cried back.
"I don't care," Pratt replied, defiantly. He grabbed a scalpel, poured the saline over the man, and made an incision.
"What the hell do you think you're doing! You need permission from a resident to do that!" Haleh told him.
"You might want to let this guy die, but I don't," Pratt said. He grabbed the sternal saw and turned it on. He followed the incision he made and started down.
"Damn you," Haleh spat and quickly ran into the other trauma room.
"Carter, Dave, Pratt just opened that man's chest," Haleh told them.
"What?" Carter cried, incredulously.
"I told him not to," Haleh explained.
"Luka, do you got this?" Carter asked.
Luka nodded. "Go."
Carter motioned for Dave to follow him and the residents ran back to Trauma 3.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Carter demanded.
"I had to crack his chest," Pratt replied.
"You didn't have permission to do that," Dave said.
"This was a really stupid thing to do," Carter added as he took over. "Get out."
"Excuse me?" Pratt asked.
"Get out," Carter repeated.
Pratt gave him a shocked look. "Dr. Carter, I…"
"Pratt, leave," Dave told him.
The intern huffed and stormed out. Dave watched as and turned back to Carter who shook his head.
"I can't believe him," Carter said, looking up at Dave.
Dave remained silent, smiling to himself as he worked, knowing that Pratt would end up being in more trouble with the Chief and Carter than he could ever imagine.