"Gah!" he slammed his locker door shut. Then he opened and slammed it again.
"I think it's shut." Susan had entered the lounge silently behind him.
He turned around with a sigh and leaned on the locker. He looked defeated.
"What happened?"
"I just want to keep doing what I've always done."
She just looked at him, waiting for the coming explanation or rant… whichever came first.
"I dropped an intubation tube because I couldn't make my thumb wrap around it."
She tried not to look concerned – it could be the treatment. It could be the tumour getting worse…
"Who am I kidding?" he shook his head.
"You just want to keep doing what you've always done – that's to be expected."
He shook his head, "It's not going to make any difference."
She stepped closer inadvertently. It sounded like he was giving up.
"If I don't have long then maybe I should just…" he couldn't say it. If he said it then it was real.
"Mark, are you talking about leaving County or do you mean…?" now it was her turn to stumble on the end of her sentence. "Please don't give up." Her eyes were the epitome of desperation.
He let his eyes linger on her and smiled. "I don't know. What would you do with the last six months of your life? I'm either on the bathroom floor or here." He looked down at the floor – the mangy carpet clearly a low priority in the hospital budget.
Susan crossed the room and stood in front of him. "What do you want to do?"
He looked up and met her eyes, "I'm thinking about quitting chemo. We could go away… I don't know. I just don't know." He was shaking his head.
"It still might work. We see miracles all the time."
"I should have been dead a year ago."
"But you're not." She almost yelled then looked down apologetically. "I can't ask anything of you. It's your decision. Just think what you've got to live for."
The lounge door swung open. "We've got gunshot victims. ETA… now."
Mark and Susan turned to the bearer of the bad news. Mark pushed himself off the locker he was leaning on and headed for the door.
Susan followed but he stopped before he left. "What?" she touched his shoulder.
He turned slightly, "You better go. I'm off trauma."
Susan nodded, knowing what a blow that was to someone who until recently defined competence. She held her eyes as long as she could as she backed out of the room.
The pace of the ER died down again. Traumas were stabilized and sent up to surgery. Triage was under control – even quiet. Susan looked around. Mark was nowhere to be seen. She took a deep breath, "I'm taking a break." She said to no one in particular in admittance and headed outside.
She could see her breath in the early evening air.
"Hey." Carter smiled up at her from his seat.
She smiled and sat beside him. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing."
"I could ask you the same question."
She nodded once in appreciation.
"Fresh air. Silence. Something right?"
She smiled again, "Yeah."
"Is he going to be okay?"
She looked at him and shrugged ever so slightly, her head shaking 'no'.
Carter looked at her for a moment and took a deep breath. "Are you okay?"
She nodded automatically but unconvincingly. He was still looking at her so she met his eyes and shook her head 'no'. Tilting her head back she looked at the darkening sky through the fog of her breath.
"You should go somewhere – find a spot of paradise. There's more to life than the job right? I mean he saves lives everyday. Now it's his turn."
"But I can't save him."
"I don't know? I think you did."
She smiled, "You should write for hallmark Carter."
"Sorry." He smiled. "If there's anything I can do…?"
She smiled but knew it was redundant.
"He's lucky to have you." He watched her hoping for a reaction. She was looking at the ground. He put his arm around her shoulder and she tiredly leant toward him.
"There's nothing I can do." Her words almost blended into the silence they were so soft.
Carter looked up and found Mark standing in the doorway watching them.
Mark gave Carter a small smile. He lacked the energy to be jealous.
Carter dropped his arm and got up, walking back into the ER.
Susan stood up, "How are you feeling?"
"Are you okay?" he ignored her question.
She sighed, fidgeting. "I was never going to find it easy to let you go." She shook her head, "I just can't say good bye. I can't bear to keep on going like nothing has changed." She stopped and took another deep breath. "Oncology called. They're saving a bed for you."
He nodded slowly. "I don't want to watch the clock – to sit there and be prodded and small-talked by doctors and nurses. I don't want people to look at me like I'm already gone. If I'm going to die I can't do it that way."
"I know. And I can't ask you to on the off chance that the chemo works… and I'm not going to."
"But?" he knew there was more – something else she wanted to say.
She took another deep, controlled breath, "It might just be stress, I'm not sure, but I'm waiting on the results of a test. Um… I'm a couple of weeks late."
"You mean…?"
She nodded. "Maybe."
He smiled, watching her face, needing to know how she felt about this revelation. She'd said she wanted to have a child – even if worse came to worst and he wasn't going to be around for long. But now that she might be pregnant… well the rubber hit the road and there was a chance she might not feel the same as she had before.
After a moment that seemed to last a week, she smiled, her eyes lingering over his face but inevitably falling back into his eyes. "I didn't tell you just so you'd stick with the chemo."
He smiled, "and I'm not sticking to the chemo just because you might be pregnant."
"You're sticking to chemo?"
He nodded and ran cold fingers from her forehead down the side of her face to her chin. "I've already missed too much with you."
"You sure about this?"
He nodded like it was a done deal – signed, sealed and delivered. "But I am leaving work."
"I knew that." She admitted softly. She kissed him hard on the mouth then hugged him tight. Exhaling, she whispered, "I love you."
He held her desperately, unable to imagine anything more healing than her and praying that this would do the trick.