Author's Note: Well, those of you who know me know that I am a huge Cordano
'shipper, and I'm sure you all have been wondering when I'm going to write
a Cordano fic. Well, this is it, and I'm sure it won't be the last. It's
not a romance, but it certainly could be headed that way. This is a post-ep
for "Finders Keepers," picking up right where it left off. It'll probably
be continued into a series, because I actually have some ideas. Please read
and review- constructive criticism is great. Enjoy!
Oh, I know absolutely nothing about Chicago geography. Just to let you know. And the title is from the song "Here is Gone" by the Goo Goo Dolls.
***
Robert Romano slowly opened his eyes. The left side of his face was throbbing with pain. Reaching up with his good arm, Robert gingerly touched his cheek. Swollen. Moving down towards his jaw, he realized that he was bleeding. Hastily wiping his hand off on his pants, Robert struggled to sit up.
His head was swimming with pain. Had he lost consciousness? He couldn't remember. "Ha!" he thought to himself. "You can't remember if you passed out. That means you probably did. You should know that, you're one of the best surgeons to ever walk the halls of that stupid hospital."
Was. He used to be the best surgeon at County General. Chief of Surgery, Chief of Staff. He could perform almost any procedure with confidence, ease, and an unfailing sense of humor. But where was he now? Chief of the dysfunctional ER. Replaced as Chief of Staff by the devil's advocate herself, Kerry Weaver. Unable to perform surgery. Walking around with one useless arm bundled in a sling. Picking -and losing- fights in bars.
Robert hadn't even realized that he was sitting alone. His attackers were back at the bar, drinking and watching that same pointless show. "Cowards," Romano thought to himself. "They beat up some guy who can't even defend himself, and now they won't even acknowledge me." The pain had subsided a little bit, and Robert pushed himself up off of the bar floor. After he had regained his balance, he placed a few bills on the counter and walked towards the bathroom.
Looking at his face in the mirror, Robert was amazed at just how bad he looked. How the hell had he gotten here? Less than a year ago, he had been on top of the world. Then one stupid chart had fallen off a gurney, and his life had been changed forever. All he could remember of the next two weeks was pain- both the sharp, constant pain in his arm, and the lingering ache that told him that he probably would never be able to perform surgery again.
Turning on the faucet, Robert splashed a bit of water on his face. He dampened a paper towel and tried to wipe away the blood trickling down his cheek. He winced as he applied pressure to the wound. Sinking down in the corner of the bathroom, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Though he wanted so badly to cry, he didn't. Robert Romano was not a crier.
After a few minutes, Robert got up. His head ached, his arm throbbed, his drunken state was wearing off, and he was exhausted. There was no way he was going to get home by himself tonight. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, not knowing who to call. After mulling it over for a few minutes, he rummaged around in his wallet for a piece of paper. He unfolded it and punched the numbers into the phone.
***
Elizabeth Corday was sitting on the El platform, waiting for a train to come. It was almost 10 o'clock, and the trains were few and far between. All in all, it had been a bad day. Sure, there was a tough case that she had to handle, but mostly, she was worried about Robert. He seemed broken and lost, but the face he was putting up was offending the entire emergency department. He wasn't going to last very long if he kept this act up.
Suddenly, her cell phone rang. Elizabeth assumed that it was her nanny, calling to find out why she was so late. Rummaging around in her bag for the phone, she pulled it out and flipped it open. The number displayed on the caller ID was unfamiliar. Elizabeth hesitantly answered the phone.
"Hello?" The line was silent for a few seconds. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and tried again. "Hello? Is anybody there?"
"Elizabeth?" The voice was soft, but Elizabeth was sure she recognized it.
"Robert? Is that you? What happened?"
"Elizabeth, I know this sounds.weird, but I need you to come pick me up. I can't get home by myself."
Thoughts raced through Elizabeth's mind as a train rumbled up to the platform. "Where are you, Robert?"
"I'm at a bar at 43rd and Clark. It's called O'Reilly's."
Elizabeth took a deep breath. Was he hurt? Lonely? Or just drunk?
Did it matter?
"Okay, Robert, I'll be there in fifteen minutes," she said, getting onto the train.
"Thank you, Elizabeth." Robert's voice sounded weak and far away. Elizabeth ended the call, and dialed her home phone number.
"Chris? It's me. I'm going to be a little bit later than I thought."
***
Robert held the phone long after Elizabeth had hung up. Finally, he realized that she would be here soon. Summoning all his strength, he shakily stood up, gripping the sink. The pain and exhaustion was becoming too much.
Somehow, Robert managed to make it out of the bathroom. It had been his intention to wait for Elizabeth outside, but the pain was too great. Sinking down in a chair along the far wall, Robert closed his eyes and waited for Elizabeth to come.
***
'O'Reilly's.O'Reilly's." Elizabeth murmured to herself, walking briskly along the cold Chicago street. Finally, she spotted the bar. Before she entered the bar, she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.
It was no use. Elizabeth pushed open the door to the bar, and she was immediately overwhelmed with smoke and loud conversation. Looking around, she couldn't see Robert anywhere. Was this the wrong place? Finally, after several long seconds of searching, she saw him. He was sitting in the far corner, eyes closed, face grimaced in pain. Elizabeth hurriedly walked toward him. His cheek was swollen, and blood trickled from a cut near his lip. She sat down in the chair next to Robert, and shook him gently.
"Robert? What happened?"
Robert's eyes lazily opened to see Elizabeth tenderly touching his cheek.
"Apparently drunken men aren't as friendly as I remembered."
Elizabeth picked up a napkin and put pressure on the cut. The bleeding began to slow down. "Did you get beat up?" Robert weakly nodded.
Elizabeth bit her lip. Robert was obviously hurt- both physically from getting beat up, and mentally because of.well, everything. Who knows what he would do if he was left alone tonight? But did she really want to follow her gut instinct?
Pushing the consequences out of her mind, Elizabeth gently slipped Robert's good arm around her shoulder. "Come on, Robert, let's get you home."
Robert opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Elizabeth silenced him.
"My home."
Oh, I know absolutely nothing about Chicago geography. Just to let you know. And the title is from the song "Here is Gone" by the Goo Goo Dolls.
***
Robert Romano slowly opened his eyes. The left side of his face was throbbing with pain. Reaching up with his good arm, Robert gingerly touched his cheek. Swollen. Moving down towards his jaw, he realized that he was bleeding. Hastily wiping his hand off on his pants, Robert struggled to sit up.
His head was swimming with pain. Had he lost consciousness? He couldn't remember. "Ha!" he thought to himself. "You can't remember if you passed out. That means you probably did. You should know that, you're one of the best surgeons to ever walk the halls of that stupid hospital."
Was. He used to be the best surgeon at County General. Chief of Surgery, Chief of Staff. He could perform almost any procedure with confidence, ease, and an unfailing sense of humor. But where was he now? Chief of the dysfunctional ER. Replaced as Chief of Staff by the devil's advocate herself, Kerry Weaver. Unable to perform surgery. Walking around with one useless arm bundled in a sling. Picking -and losing- fights in bars.
Robert hadn't even realized that he was sitting alone. His attackers were back at the bar, drinking and watching that same pointless show. "Cowards," Romano thought to himself. "They beat up some guy who can't even defend himself, and now they won't even acknowledge me." The pain had subsided a little bit, and Robert pushed himself up off of the bar floor. After he had regained his balance, he placed a few bills on the counter and walked towards the bathroom.
Looking at his face in the mirror, Robert was amazed at just how bad he looked. How the hell had he gotten here? Less than a year ago, he had been on top of the world. Then one stupid chart had fallen off a gurney, and his life had been changed forever. All he could remember of the next two weeks was pain- both the sharp, constant pain in his arm, and the lingering ache that told him that he probably would never be able to perform surgery again.
Turning on the faucet, Robert splashed a bit of water on his face. He dampened a paper towel and tried to wipe away the blood trickling down his cheek. He winced as he applied pressure to the wound. Sinking down in the corner of the bathroom, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Though he wanted so badly to cry, he didn't. Robert Romano was not a crier.
After a few minutes, Robert got up. His head ached, his arm throbbed, his drunken state was wearing off, and he was exhausted. There was no way he was going to get home by himself tonight. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, not knowing who to call. After mulling it over for a few minutes, he rummaged around in his wallet for a piece of paper. He unfolded it and punched the numbers into the phone.
***
Elizabeth Corday was sitting on the El platform, waiting for a train to come. It was almost 10 o'clock, and the trains were few and far between. All in all, it had been a bad day. Sure, there was a tough case that she had to handle, but mostly, she was worried about Robert. He seemed broken and lost, but the face he was putting up was offending the entire emergency department. He wasn't going to last very long if he kept this act up.
Suddenly, her cell phone rang. Elizabeth assumed that it was her nanny, calling to find out why she was so late. Rummaging around in her bag for the phone, she pulled it out and flipped it open. The number displayed on the caller ID was unfamiliar. Elizabeth hesitantly answered the phone.
"Hello?" The line was silent for a few seconds. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and tried again. "Hello? Is anybody there?"
"Elizabeth?" The voice was soft, but Elizabeth was sure she recognized it.
"Robert? Is that you? What happened?"
"Elizabeth, I know this sounds.weird, but I need you to come pick me up. I can't get home by myself."
Thoughts raced through Elizabeth's mind as a train rumbled up to the platform. "Where are you, Robert?"
"I'm at a bar at 43rd and Clark. It's called O'Reilly's."
Elizabeth took a deep breath. Was he hurt? Lonely? Or just drunk?
Did it matter?
"Okay, Robert, I'll be there in fifteen minutes," she said, getting onto the train.
"Thank you, Elizabeth." Robert's voice sounded weak and far away. Elizabeth ended the call, and dialed her home phone number.
"Chris? It's me. I'm going to be a little bit later than I thought."
***
Robert held the phone long after Elizabeth had hung up. Finally, he realized that she would be here soon. Summoning all his strength, he shakily stood up, gripping the sink. The pain and exhaustion was becoming too much.
Somehow, Robert managed to make it out of the bathroom. It had been his intention to wait for Elizabeth outside, but the pain was too great. Sinking down in a chair along the far wall, Robert closed his eyes and waited for Elizabeth to come.
***
'O'Reilly's.O'Reilly's." Elizabeth murmured to herself, walking briskly along the cold Chicago street. Finally, she spotted the bar. Before she entered the bar, she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.
It was no use. Elizabeth pushed open the door to the bar, and she was immediately overwhelmed with smoke and loud conversation. Looking around, she couldn't see Robert anywhere. Was this the wrong place? Finally, after several long seconds of searching, she saw him. He was sitting in the far corner, eyes closed, face grimaced in pain. Elizabeth hurriedly walked toward him. His cheek was swollen, and blood trickled from a cut near his lip. She sat down in the chair next to Robert, and shook him gently.
"Robert? What happened?"
Robert's eyes lazily opened to see Elizabeth tenderly touching his cheek.
"Apparently drunken men aren't as friendly as I remembered."
Elizabeth picked up a napkin and put pressure on the cut. The bleeding began to slow down. "Did you get beat up?" Robert weakly nodded.
Elizabeth bit her lip. Robert was obviously hurt- both physically from getting beat up, and mentally because of.well, everything. Who knows what he would do if he was left alone tonight? But did she really want to follow her gut instinct?
Pushing the consequences out of her mind, Elizabeth gently slipped Robert's good arm around her shoulder. "Come on, Robert, let's get you home."
Robert opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Elizabeth silenced him.
"My home."