A/N: Second half of the same chapter. I split it into two to make it easier to read. Robert gets mighty angry and has some visitors. Bad language alert!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Robert whirled round and headed for his office, knowing if he stopped, he wouldn't be able to stop himself hurting the man.
He slammed the door open, causing a crack to appear in the glass. He slammed it shut and leaned against it.
Everything was calm and serene. The storm in the corridor sounded muffled and a million miles away. Blood pounded in his ears. He gripped his slinged arm and dug the fingers into it, willing for pain. None came. So useless. His eyes scanned the semi-darkened room, alighting on papers and models and certificates and a hundred other useless things. Useless. All useless.
The rage exploded. In one movement, he swept his desk clear, papers, pens and stationary crashing to the floor. The beads snapped off a desk toy and rolled and bounced along the floor.
Fucking useless, his mind screamed why are you so fucking useless?
He crashed into a stack of shelves, beside the desk and pulled them over. More trophies, paperweights and books, slammed to the floor. He kicked the desk chair to the floor. Turning he slammed a fist into the wall and leaned against it. The rage subsided. His breathing was fast and erratic. His arms, both of them, throbbed. Gradually he returned to reality.
There was a knock on the door.
Oh now what? Couldn't he just have a self-destructive episode in peace? He kept quiet and hoped whomever it was would go away, but heard a small click and the door opened behind him.
'Robert?'
He winced inwardly. It was Weaver, of all people. He wondered if he could wake Martin up and ask him for one more shot. He turned slowly, slowing his breathing to a normal speed. Kerry clicked on the light and he screwed up his eyes at the brightness.
'Kerry!' he said, all forced cheerfulness, 'come for tabloid fodder?'
Kerry Weaver hobbled in slowly. Her glasses were perched on top of her red hair and she looked concerned.
Not that Robert noticed. Right at that moment he hated everything about Kerry Weaver, from her hair to her toes to that bloody crutch. He wanted her in the OR instead of Elizabeth. He wanted-
'Robert, I-' she began, but stopped upon seeing the wreck of his office, 'what happened?'
'Oh you didn't hear? We had a little trouble with a gun-totting psychopath. See, you're little ER doesn't get all the fun around these parts,' he said, with all the sarcasm he could muster.
He tried staring her out of the door, but Weaver had been on the receiving end of one too many of his stares and didn't even flinch.
'I am aware of that. I also know what you did. That must have taken a hell of a lot of-'
'Gee, Kerry as much as I would like to have an 'aren't-I-brave' moment with you, I really don't...care. Is there anything important you want to know?'
He held up a hand, counting up the things she could ask about.
'The shooter is down, the hostages are out and Elizabeth is in surgery-'
Kerry opened her mouth again to speak, but he steamrollered over her.
'-I don't know how she is.'
He bit down on each word, driving them home. Don't ask me anymore, just get out.
'Anything else?' he finished.
Kerry shook her head.
'Everyone's been worried,' she said, softly, 'I'll pass the news on.'
She turned and started to pull the door closed behind her. Halfway, she stopped and Robert heard her talk to someone else.
'Hey why are you up here?' said Kerry in a more normal Weaver alike voice, 'I told you I was going to get information, you needn't have followed-'
'Kerry, don't start, we've got trauma's rolling in like it's Armageddon out there. The other hospitals have no more room,' answered another woman.
Robert smiled a little, recognising the voice. Good old Susan. She was one of the few down there who didn't whine and whinge all the time. And she didn't like Weaver, so bonus points there.
Kerry grouched her way away from the door, which inched open a bit. Susan's face peered round.
'Dr Romano?' she asked.
He looked around the room, suddenly embarrassed about the mess and she followed his gaze.
'Oh. Looks like you're busy. Sorry, I'll go,' she said, backing away.
'It's okay Dr Lewis,' he said.
He didn't want Susan to think badly of him, even after the day he'd had.
Susan's head re-appeared and he beckoned her in. She entered cautiously and lingered holding the door behind open slightly behind her. Still open, in case she had to run.
'I-I just wanted to see how you were,' she said.
He looked up startled and met her eyes, deep with concern and tiredness.
'Me?' he said, surprised, 'I'm fine, its Elizabeth...who's not.'
Susan glanced at the floor and back up.
'Yeah I know. But she's alive though?'
He nodded.
'Good. Good, thank God. Everyone's been so worried. It-its all so weird,' she sighed, and paused then said, 'Dr Weaver told me about what you did-'
'Great,' he murmured.
Kerry couldn't keep her big mouth shut could she?
'-No, it wasn't her fault, I kind of forced it out of her. Man, now I'm defending her. This is a weird day. But I don't know why you don't want anyone to know, that was a incredible thing to do.'
He chuckled and brushed a hand down his rumpled scrubs.
'Well, it gave me a chance to practise my people skills,' he said.
Susan gave a weak smile. They stood in silence for a moment, the Susan's beeper buzzed into life, making her jump.
'Okay,' she said, checking it 'time for Susan to leave the building. I'd better get back before Weaver comes after me. That crutch is lethal.'
She paused as she left.
'Anything I can do, just ask,' she said.
The door swung gently shut behind her. Robert was again alone in his office. Well, that was nice, he thought. Kerry concerned about his authority and her own and Susan just concerned about him. He'd have to remember to give her a raise.
He walked away from the wall and crouched down, half-heartedly collecting items from the floor and depositing them on his desk.
He belated recalled when he had been there before, gunshots slicing into his thoughts and instantly imagining the worst. And the worst had come true. He got a sudden flash of the look in her eyes as she had pushed past him to see Mrs Graham. Contempt, loathing, anger-things he was used to seeing. Everyday and these days in between bouts of pity looks. He preferred it when she hated him. But nothing stopped him hoping-
'Oh fuck it!' he said, aloud, throwing down a handful of papers.
Go home and get drunk Yvonne had said and that sounded like a bloody good idea. He got up and grabbed his coat, not bothered about the blood stained scrubs he was still wearing. Go home, get drunk and forget, he thought, the old ones are always the best.
He wrenched open the door and stopped. In front of him stood a dark haired, dark skinned woman holding a rather familiar looking blond girl.