A Step Further
The following story is under the sole ownership and copyright of J.L. Scott. Unauthorized copying and/or use is actionable in a court of law.
To borrow a phrase: ER no mine, no permission, no money, no sue...please?
"Let me out of here, dammit!" the girl screeched and swung a fist that landed in Luka's gut. He heaved but didn't let go of her. The cops were helping to restrain her now too, but for a few moments there he'd thought she'd get away. Carter was waiting to lend a hand, but niether of them could do anything until she was sedated, which was proving to be a very difficult task.
"Laila, you have to lay down, we have to get that bullet out of you" he told her over her own struggling. They finally got her strapped down, but she was still wriggling beneath them. Carter strapped the anethesia mask over her face and pumped it up. It only took a few seconds for her to pass out. Carter removed the mask and Luka started exploring the area the bullet had passed through. It was buried somewhere in her belly, which was gushing blood, largly due to her violent thrashing.
"Parents gave a go" Abby told him, popping her head in the room and popping out again.
"How did this happen?" Luka asked, working as he listened to the answer.
"Paramedics said it was a gang fight" Carter answered, concentrating on what he was doing. Luka nearly growled in disgust. The girl had all the markings of a gang member, with her obviously all green and white clothes and heavy makeup and jewlry.
"That bitch!" a scream distracted Luka from the next room, "That Dragon bitch! Let her die, you fuckers! She shot my sister!" Luka glimpsed a black haired girl bedecked in red, more cops struggling to restrain her, and then heard the disasterous familar sound of a flatliner. He returned all of his concentration to his own paitent, trying to save her life. Finally he found the small piece of metal that had wreaked so much travesty and ordered Carter to close up. He stripped off his gloves and went to find the girl's parents. He found them in the waiting room, huddled together, obviously terrified that their daughter was dead.
"Mr. and Mrs. Zetti?" he asked, and they rose quickly, still huddled together.
"Laila is going to make it" he told them and empathized with the deep relief he saw overshadow their faces.
"The girl she shot died" he added quietly, and watched as horror and shock and terror and a thousand other emotions obscured the relief. Mrs. Zetti folded into her husband and began weeping while Mr. Zetti worked his jaw without saying anything. Luka knew the hard times were only beginning for them, and reached into his pocket for one of the cards he now carried in his pockets everywhere he went. It had taken some doing, but he finally convinced Kerry to allow a few of the doctors to carry the same cards with them. He pulled one out and handed it to the devestated parents.
"This is a number you can reach a good therapist at" he told them, "She's the best in Chicago" He walked away, shaking his head at the blatant disregard for life he had just been witness to.
"Luka!" he heard Abby shout and stopped.
"You're going home?" she asked. Luka nodded. Abby pulled an invitation from her pocket. "Tell her I can come" she said and walked away. Luka put the RSVP in his own pocket and left the ER.
"Uncle Luka!" was the first thing he heard when he opened the door to his apartment. He shrugged his coat off and hung it up. Caroline and Frederic were bent over a couple of text books, papers scattered across the livng room, and an English/Croatian dictionary (that had been the devil to find) lay open on the coffee table.
"Uncle Luka, read this to us!" Frederic pleaded in Croatian.
"Don't you dare!" a lovely voice called from the kitchenette. Ria stood by the stove, Ailleen on her hip and a spatula in her hand. Luka thought she looked divine.
"Don't what?" he asked, suffusing his tone with humor.
"Don't read that to them" she answered, turning back to the stove, "They'll never learn if you do. Use the dictionary and figure it out yourselves, you two" Luka shrugged at his niece and nephew who went back to their difficult task of translating their history homework. Luka circled the counter and came up behind Ria, who turned at the last instant so that his kiss landed on her forehead instead of her hair.
"Hello" he said quietly. She smiled up at him and pecked him on the lips. Ailleen gurgled and stretched her arms out at Luka. He took her from her mother and twirled her in the air.
"How's my Ailleen today?" he asked her as drool dripped down on her shirt. He brought her back down and planted a kiss on the top of her fuzzy head.
"Pa!" she said.
"That's right!" he laughed at her, "Papa!"
"She's been saying it all day" Ria told him, stirring whatever scrumtious concotion she was cooking. The 6 month old infant had just learned to say the one syllable word last night at the dinner table. Luka started to walk off with his daughter, mumbling in baby language to her.
"Oh, I almost forgot" he said turning around, "Abby said she could come to your birthday party" Ria was dumping noodles into a sive over the sink.
"I don't know why you insist on giving me one" she murmered but Luka just ignored her and went to take a shower.
"I think you're getting a new paitent, Ria" Luka said later at the dinner table. Ria's response was to raise an eyebrow.
"Gang member this time" he added. Ria acknowledged him without responding, as she did when she didn't paritcularly feel like talking about something at the moment, so Luka switched the subject.
"Caroline, Frederic, how are you're studies coming?" he asked and was subjected to lengthy complaints and hysterical rendations of the two teen's day for the rest of the evening.
The following story is under the sole ownership and copyright of J.L. Scott. Unauthorized copying and/or use is actionable in a court of law.
To borrow a phrase: ER no mine, no permission, no money, no sue...please?
"Let me out of here, dammit!" the girl screeched and swung a fist that landed in Luka's gut. He heaved but didn't let go of her. The cops were helping to restrain her now too, but for a few moments there he'd thought she'd get away. Carter was waiting to lend a hand, but niether of them could do anything until she was sedated, which was proving to be a very difficult task.
"Laila, you have to lay down, we have to get that bullet out of you" he told her over her own struggling. They finally got her strapped down, but she was still wriggling beneath them. Carter strapped the anethesia mask over her face and pumped it up. It only took a few seconds for her to pass out. Carter removed the mask and Luka started exploring the area the bullet had passed through. It was buried somewhere in her belly, which was gushing blood, largly due to her violent thrashing.
"Parents gave a go" Abby told him, popping her head in the room and popping out again.
"How did this happen?" Luka asked, working as he listened to the answer.
"Paramedics said it was a gang fight" Carter answered, concentrating on what he was doing. Luka nearly growled in disgust. The girl had all the markings of a gang member, with her obviously all green and white clothes and heavy makeup and jewlry.
"That bitch!" a scream distracted Luka from the next room, "That Dragon bitch! Let her die, you fuckers! She shot my sister!" Luka glimpsed a black haired girl bedecked in red, more cops struggling to restrain her, and then heard the disasterous familar sound of a flatliner. He returned all of his concentration to his own paitent, trying to save her life. Finally he found the small piece of metal that had wreaked so much travesty and ordered Carter to close up. He stripped off his gloves and went to find the girl's parents. He found them in the waiting room, huddled together, obviously terrified that their daughter was dead.
"Mr. and Mrs. Zetti?" he asked, and they rose quickly, still huddled together.
"Laila is going to make it" he told them and empathized with the deep relief he saw overshadow their faces.
"The girl she shot died" he added quietly, and watched as horror and shock and terror and a thousand other emotions obscured the relief. Mrs. Zetti folded into her husband and began weeping while Mr. Zetti worked his jaw without saying anything. Luka knew the hard times were only beginning for them, and reached into his pocket for one of the cards he now carried in his pockets everywhere he went. It had taken some doing, but he finally convinced Kerry to allow a few of the doctors to carry the same cards with them. He pulled one out and handed it to the devestated parents.
"This is a number you can reach a good therapist at" he told them, "She's the best in Chicago" He walked away, shaking his head at the blatant disregard for life he had just been witness to.
"Luka!" he heard Abby shout and stopped.
"You're going home?" she asked. Luka nodded. Abby pulled an invitation from her pocket. "Tell her I can come" she said and walked away. Luka put the RSVP in his own pocket and left the ER.
"Uncle Luka!" was the first thing he heard when he opened the door to his apartment. He shrugged his coat off and hung it up. Caroline and Frederic were bent over a couple of text books, papers scattered across the livng room, and an English/Croatian dictionary (that had been the devil to find) lay open on the coffee table.
"Uncle Luka, read this to us!" Frederic pleaded in Croatian.
"Don't you dare!" a lovely voice called from the kitchenette. Ria stood by the stove, Ailleen on her hip and a spatula in her hand. Luka thought she looked divine.
"Don't what?" he asked, suffusing his tone with humor.
"Don't read that to them" she answered, turning back to the stove, "They'll never learn if you do. Use the dictionary and figure it out yourselves, you two" Luka shrugged at his niece and nephew who went back to their difficult task of translating their history homework. Luka circled the counter and came up behind Ria, who turned at the last instant so that his kiss landed on her forehead instead of her hair.
"Hello" he said quietly. She smiled up at him and pecked him on the lips. Ailleen gurgled and stretched her arms out at Luka. He took her from her mother and twirled her in the air.
"How's my Ailleen today?" he asked her as drool dripped down on her shirt. He brought her back down and planted a kiss on the top of her fuzzy head.
"Pa!" she said.
"That's right!" he laughed at her, "Papa!"
"She's been saying it all day" Ria told him, stirring whatever scrumtious concotion she was cooking. The 6 month old infant had just learned to say the one syllable word last night at the dinner table. Luka started to walk off with his daughter, mumbling in baby language to her.
"Oh, I almost forgot" he said turning around, "Abby said she could come to your birthday party" Ria was dumping noodles into a sive over the sink.
"I don't know why you insist on giving me one" she murmered but Luka just ignored her and went to take a shower.
"I think you're getting a new paitent, Ria" Luka said later at the dinner table. Ria's response was to raise an eyebrow.
"Gang member this time" he added. Ria acknowledged him without responding, as she did when she didn't paritcularly feel like talking about something at the moment, so Luka switched the subject.
"Caroline, Frederic, how are you're studies coming?" he asked and was subjected to lengthy complaints and hysterical rendations of the two teen's day for the rest of the evening.