Heat

A/N: Oh my gosh, thanks for all the reviews you guys have given me, it's so awesome to open my email inbox and be greeted by that many reviews! Ummm… to answer some questions, firstly, I am not going to tell you who will survive etc. just yet, simply because that would ruin the plot, but I hope it's clear that I am one of those 'few' Susan fans… Anyone who knows me on MSN will know that I am having like a lot of trouble deciding who exactly dies, so the fact that you don't know… that's simply because even I don't! Once again, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! The parts in italics are flashbacks, in case you wondered or were confused!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, not a sausage. Except of course any characters you don't recognize.

Thanks to: Amy because she helped me with a lot of the ideas for this chapter, including who I wanted to die and how etc

-

"I'm afraid it's unlikely that my men are going to be able to get in there and to the area where the fire is inside this hour, it's not safe yet," Jed Carlson reasoned with Dr. Weaver who had just arrived, "But as soon as we can, we will,"

Kerry nodded, "I am completely aware of the situation you are in. Just keep me updated, okay?"

At least half an hour had passed since the fire had first been reported, and the crowd of people outside had since doubled. It seemed the whole of Chicago was interested in the blazing hospital, or rather the huge television crews stationed outside, the cameras rolling non-stop. It wasn't just passer-bys who were filling the car lot and area just outside of the hospital though. Sitting in the back of an ambulance, a towel wrapped around his shoulders, Dubenko took a shaky sip of coffee.

"I'd been on my way up there; in fact I was in the lift when the blast first occurred I think, therefore I had no idea what was going on. Of course I heard the screaming when I reached the floor, stepping out into what looked like a war zone. Whatever it was that went up, it wasn't small. We're talking debris up to the knees at least. And, well you've seen the smoke, it's so thick up there, you'd be lucky to see one hand in front of your face by now I should think. I wanted to stay up there and help but I honestly think I wouldn't have been much aid.

"So I made my way down the stairs, as quickly as I could. I figured that way I could at least tell some people what's happening in there. That's when I tripped," Dubenko continued to explain to the paramedic who was carefully examining his head, "I don't know who was up there; I didn't really stop to look. I only had one thing on my mind and that was to get out of the hospital quickly and without causing any more accidents. I was careful not to knock anything over, and I followed all the other people running and screaming their way down the stairs,"

The paramedic nodded, lifting a patch of Dubenko's curly hair up to take a look at a large bump forming on his head, "I think I found where you fell. It doesn't seem to be too much of a problem, but you've got a large area of bruising. I'd stay still just to be certain,"

-

From Pratt's POV

If I've learnt anything from my time in this hospital it's that if you want a job done, you pretty much have to do it yourself. And with this in my head, I made my way over to the drug store cupboard, even though I'd asked Conni to get me the meds my patient needed. That had been an hour ago though, and the woman was waiting to leave. What can I say, she was hot, and I didn't want her to have to stay around much longer. So, I was just walking in, when I saw someone lean over and quickly grab up some supplies from inside one of the draws. Not unusual you may think, but it is when the person is wearing a grey hooded sweater and a baseball cap.

Obviously, I couldn't let the guy run off with enough morphine to get himself high for at least a month, so when he saw me and ran, I followed after him. It was only then that I got caught up in the herd of staff running down the corridor screaming, and when one of them pointed to the smoke oozing out from the Family Room's door, I began to panic too, completely forgetting about the dude and the stolen morphine.

-

"Can anyone hear me?" Abby choked out the words, lifting herself up just enough to see over the desk, before losing the strength once again and finding herself back on the floor.

Even from such a small glimpse, she could just about make out 4 people around the desk area. She could tell that the first was Frank, but she wasn't sure whether he was conscious or not. Other than that, she couldn't tell; the smoke was too thick to see through. County General was practically unrecognizable, especially from the angle she was now slumped over at.

"Anyone?"

Someone groaned but it was impossible to know where the sound had come from. Abby swallowed, one hand over her face, trying to keep the smoke away from it, "Where are you?"

No answer.

Abby rested a hand on the side of the desk, and scrambled for the top or something to hold onto. Her fingers wrapped around a long metal object, but as she applied weight on the desk, she found a large lamp hitting the ground a few centimetres away from her. Still coughing, she attempted to reach for the desk again, and finding herself able to cling to the desk, she pulled herself up to a standing position, though her whole body ached from doing so. Ignoring the pain, Abby pulled herself along the desk, trying to make out the shadows of people through the dark smoke covering them.

"Hello?" She pulled herself round so that she could easily get into the gap between desks, and steadied herself, still holding on to the edge of the table top.

"Abby,"

Turning herself towards where the sound had come from, Abby found herself looking down at who appeared to be Lucy Knight though she wasn't quite sure, "Lucy?"

"Please," She paused, a throaty cough interrupting her sentence, "Help me,"

Clearing a patch of debris with her foot so that she could kneel down, Abby rested a hand on Lucy's dusty arm, feeling her pulse. It was low. She looked around; trying to see what it was that had hit Lucy, since she was pretty sure that it wasn't just shock that had knocked her out. Sure enough, a pot of pens and other stationery lay on the floor next to her, just visible under all the dust and broken wood from where half of the desk had collapsed having been in the way of flying chunks of door. Most of the pot's contents were spread around Lucy, but it didn't look like any of it had hit her.

The air smelt of burning wood, which made sense since the fire had just started to spread to the line of gurneys and chairs opposite, and the larger chunks of door were still burning away. Burning gurneys meant burning patients, probably dead. Abby shook the thought from her head, thinking it best to concentrate on those she could help. Meaning Lucy for the time being.

"Did something hit you?"

Lucy groaned again, "I think… my back,"

Frowning, Abby carefully lifted her up and took a quick look underneath her. She forced herself to ignore the painful sounds Lucy was making, and the agony running through her own body having also been knocked to the ground earlier.

"Ouch…" Abby winced, gently easing Lucy back down again, "I think you have the end of a pen jammed between your ribs… I had no idea those things could be so sharp ended,"

Abby coughed again, holding a hand over her mouth and standing herself up from the small piece of ground she had crouched on. Lucy looked up at her with half open eyes, the pain and helplessness giving an almost creepy glare to them.

"I'm sorry… I can't do anything… we just need to get you out of here,"

There was no point in even trying the phones to alert people outside of where they were, the lines were sure to be singed and Abby knew she couldn't make it out of the corridor and over to a window. It looked like Lucy would have to wait until somebody came and found them.

-

Nobody had noticed him quickly rush out of the room, they'd all been too worried about the fire, which he was beginning to think was something he should have taken into account. That and the fact that he didn't know his way around County General at all. How was he to know that actually the route he was taking was going to lead him right to where the fire was? At least the fire had spread so where he was now was just as dangerous as any other area. That wasn't quite true though, being crouched behind a trolley thing, hiding from two people on the floor in front of him, with absolutely no idea whether there was any way of getting out of the room, out of the hospital, without being caught wasn't exactly a bike ride in the country.

But hey, he hadn't planned the fire; it was just a prime opportunity to do what he had been dying to do all week. He just had to pick his moment.

"Didn't know I was right in time for a dose of 'General Hospital' either," He mumbled, rolling his eyes at the couple holding hands as the fire pretty much surrounded them.

It surrounded him too, but he wasn't so bothered. There wasn't much left in the world for him to live for since his little brother had died and his parents had discarded him. Not that he had a death wish or anything. He was obsessed with death, other people's pain brought him joy, but it was different when he considered his own death.

He wondered if the two figures crying in each others' arms who he was hiding from had ever thought about dying. They obviously couldn't hide from death, it was pretty much inevitable that they would see it working in a hospital, but perhaps they'd never thought about what it would be like when they died.

"Did you hear something?" He could just make out what the man was saying.

The woman lifted her head for a moment, a stream of tears across her face, "I don't know,"

She was pretty. But beauty didn't bother him anymore, he'd found himself easily able to kill even the most amazing women once the 'itch' came to him. The itch to kill. Normal people didn't understand the 'itch'; most people didn't understand how anyone could kill. He wasn't most people.

"Fine, you caught me, you know what, I don't really care," He shrugged stepping out towards the flames so that they could see him.

He didn't even feel the fire burn him, he'd shut out any sense of pain long ago. Two pairs of eyes were now focused on him, a look of surprise in both. They were even more surprised when he pulled out the gun from behind him, the cold metal feeling so good in his hands.

"Well isn't this cosy, you, me and a nice seat beside the fire. We aint gonna be toasting any marshmallows tonight though dears, sorry,"

It was that look of innocence that he thrived on, that look of oh-my-god-he-has-a-gun was like a Big Mac in MacDonald's to him, but it was the blood against the floor, the soft sound of a bullet entering skin which he would dream about. That and of course the nine or ten packs of Morphine he had stored inside his bag.

"Don't do something you'll regret," The guy yelled his face fuzzy from the mixture of smoke and fire.

"Regret? I don't think so,"

To Be Continued…

A/N: I also want to thank Amy for the idea of the drug addict. Hopefully it wasn't too over the top. Please let me know what you think, I appreciate it.