Chapter Seven – A Familiar Face

Mark and Susan had been on their lunch break, talking and laughing about old times. As they made their way downstairs they continued joking. When they reached the ER they were surprised to see a group of security guards surrounding someone or something Mark and Susan couldn't see. With them was Kerry.

"Wow, whoever knew we had so many security guards in the whole hospital, let alone the ER," Mark commented.

"Hey Randi, what's going on?" Susan asked when they reached the desk.

"Some patient went crazy at Dr Pratt," Randi replied, taking a lolly out of her mouth long enough to reply before placing it back in her mouth and returning to her magazine.

"Is he ok?" Mark asked.

"He's got a black eye and a cut on his eyebrow, but nothing too serious. He thinks it makes her look more macho," she answered.

Mark and Susan stood watching the commotion as Kerry barked orders at the security guards. The patient in question had clearly relented in his struggle and, flanked by three burly security guards, Kerry led him towards a private room. As he walked past the desk, Mark and Susan were shocked to see who the patient was. They looked at each other, their eyebrows raised.

"Hey, Kerry," Susan called. "Hey, Kerry!"

"Put him in there and make sure he's put in restraints," Kerry ordered, nodding towards an empty room, before turning her attention to Susan. "What?"

"That patient, is he the one who attacked Pratt?" Susan asked.

Kerry nodded.

"Are you sure?" Mark asked.

"Yes, of course I'm sure," Kerry replied, indignantly. "I saw it with my own eyes."

"Was he provoked?" Mark asked.

"What's with all the questions?" Kerry asked back, starting to get irritated.

"It's just, that's Patrick," Mark answered, not really knowing what else to say.

"You know this patient?" Kerry asked.

Mark and Susan both nodded.

"He was a patient here years ago. A sweet kid, harmless really. I can't believe he would hurt anyone," Susan said.

"Yeah, well, you'd better ask Dr Pratt," Kerry said. "He's in curtain 2, getting his head stitched up."

"What happened?" Mark asked.

"Pratt was treating him for a cut to his arm, when he went crazy," Kerry said, starting to get impatient with all the questions.

"But Kerry," Susan started.

"Susan, he attacked a member of staff. That's something I won't stand for, even if it is Dr Pratt. Now leave it alone," Kerry said, and with that she turned around and left.

Susan watched her walk away, shaking her head. "There's something not right about this," she said to Mark.

They both looked at Patrick through the window to his room. He was sat tied to a gurney, his shoulders slumped, looking sad and vulnerable. Susan grabbed a pair of surgical gloves and started walking towards the room.

"Susan, where are you going?" Mark asked.

"Someone's got to stitch up his arm," she answered, looking over her shoulder at Mark, who followed her into the room.

"Hey, Patrick," Susan said.

Patrick looked up at the sound of his name and his face lit up as he recognised Susan. Susan smiled gently at him and, grabbing a stool, sat down next to him. Mark stood back, watching silently.

"I've come to take care of your arm. Is that ok?" Susan asked.

Patrick looked scared, but nodded. Susan started cleaning his wound. Patrick winced as she touched it, and he tried to pull back, but couldn't because his wrists remained tied to the gurney. Susan looked at Mark, who nodded.

"Let's take these off, eh?" she said softly. She undid the restraints and continued to stitch Patrick's arm.

"Patrick, I need to ask you some questions," she said cautiously. Patrick turned his face away from Susan, as if trying to hide.

"I'm s…s…sorry," he said.

"Sorry for what, Patrick?" Susan asked.

"I, I didn't m…mean to," he said, starting to get upset.

"It's ok," Susan said, reassuringly. "Patrick, why did you get upset with Dr Pratt?"

Patrick didn't answer.

"Patrick? Did he say something to upset you?"

Patrick turned to look at Susan, his puppy dog eyes staring her straight in the face.

"He wanted t…to send me b…b…back," Patrick said.

"Back where? With your parents?" Susan asked.

Patrick shook his head. "To, to the h…home."

Susan looked at Mark, confused. Mark picked up his chart which lay at the end of the bed.

"It says here that Patrick's parents put him in a home four years ago, before moving to Texas," Mark said in a lowered voice.

Susan turned back to Patrick.

"Don't you like your home, Patrick?" Susan asked.

Patrick shook his head and started playing with the bandage on his arm.

"Why not?" Susan asked.

Patrick remained silent, and started rocking backwards and forwards, scared.

"Patrick…" Susan said, placing her hand on his back. Patrick flinched. Susan removed her hand, quickly.

"Ok. It's ok," Susan soothed. "Patrick, tell me why you don't like your home? Do they hurt you?"

Patrick nodded, continuing to rock.

"How? How do they hurt you?" Susan persevered with her questions, feeling that she was starting to get closer to the truth.

"It h…hurts," Patrick stuttered.

"Where? On your back? Can I see?"

Patrick shook his head, no, and edged away from Susan. She stood up and moved closer.

"Please, Patrick, let me see. I promise I won't hurt you," she said.

She pulled up his jumper and gasped when she saw cigarette burns, some old and some new, covering his back. She looked at Mark, who moved closer to see.

"Who did this Patrick?" Mark asked. "Someone who lives with you at the home?"

Patrick shook his head.

"Someone who works there?"

Before Patrick could answer, they were interrupted by Kerry, whose face appeared round the door.

"Mark, Susan, can I have a word with you outside," she said, angrily. "Now!"

Susan pulled Patrick's sweater back down over his back.

"Stay here, Patrick, ok," Susan ordered. "We'll be right back."

Mark and Susan followed Kerry outside, knowing that they were in trouble.

"What the hell were you doing?" Kerry exploded at them. "I told you to leave it alone."

"Kerry, he didn't mean to hurt Pratt. He was scared," Susan said.

"I don't care if he meant it or not, Susan, the fact is he did it," Kerry said. "And you deliberately ignored me by going in there and taking his restraints off. What was to stop him from attacking you too, or someone else in the hospital?"

"He wouldn't," Susan argued, exasperated that Kerry wasn't listening to her.

"Look, Susan, I'm the Chief of Emergency Medicine and…"

"You're pulling rank on me now, Kerry?" Susan exclaimed, looking at Mark and wishing he would back her up instead of standing quietly, watching as they argued in the middle of the ER.

"Yes. Now I don't want you going near that patient, do you understand?" Kerry said.

Susan stood with her arms folded, defiantly. Kerry sighed.

"Fine," she said. She turned to the security guards. "I want him back in restraints."

"No!" Susan cried, as the security guards bustled into the room and started restraining Patrick, who was whimpering.

"Susan!" Kerry yelled, as Susan rushed past her into Patrick's room. Susan ignored her.

"Stop it, you're scaring him," she said to the security guards. Despite being half the size of him, she managed to push past one of the security guards to reach Patrick, who was cowering on the gurney. "Stop touching his back, it hurts."

Susan struggled unsuccessfully with the security guards, until a voice interrupted them.

"That's enough!" shouted Mark. He walked over to the gurney and started untying the restraints.

"Mark, he needs to be restrained," Kerry said.

"No, he doesn't," Mark said firmly. Kerry gave up. While she could assert her authority over most members of staff, she knew that fighting would Mark would get her nowhere. She left, followed by the security guards.

"He speaks," Susan said to Mark, slightly annoyed.

"I thought you women liked the strong silent type," Mark joked.

Susan couldn't help but smile. She was grateful for his help really, even if it was a bit late coming.

"Strong?" Susan questioned, light-heartedly. "Where were you when I was taking on an army of security men?"

"An army?" Mark laughed. "Typical woman, exaggerating as usual. Besides, you looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"Ha! Typical man, thinking he's something he's not," Susan laughed back.

"You're just envious of these muscles," Mark said, flexing his arm.

"Muscles? What muscles?" Susan joked, as she felt his biceps. "I've seen more muscles in a French restaurant!"

Their jibes continued as together they treated the burns on Patrick's back. They both knew they were flirting but neither of them cared – they were enjoying themselves too much. Eventually, Mark got called away to a trauma, leaving Susan to find somewhere to house Patrick, before her shift ended at 8pm.

Mark, who was working the graveyard shift that night, caught Susan just as she was leaving.

"You off?" he asked.

"Yep. 18 hours and my feet are killing me," Susan complained. "Are you working another grave yard shift?"

"Yeah, we're still short staffed," Mark answered. "Where's Patrick?"

"At the admit desk, helping Randi," Susan said.

All of a sudden there was a crashing sound as they heard all the charts fall to the floor.

"What did Randi do to deserve that?" Mark asked, laughing.

"He's waiting to be picked up. I found him a foster home, it's got a good reputation, he should be ok there," Susan said.

"Good, I'm glad," Mark said. Susan nodded in agreement.

"How did you find it?" Mark asked.

"Kerry gave me the number," Susan answered.

Mark raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"I know," Susan laughed. "Listen, I really want to go home. Can you keep an eye on Patrick for me until he leaves?"

"Sure," Mark said.

"Thanks. Goodnight, Mark."

"Goodnight, Susan."

Exhausted by the days events, Susan went home to a bottle of wine and a hot bath full of bubbles, where she found herself daydreaming about how large Mark's biceps actually were…!

Muscles – mussels – get it? Ok, I know, I'm crap at jokes!