POCKET CHANGE 3: HIDE & SEEK
Sequel to Pocket Change and Pocket Change 2: A Game of Cards
by Sharon R.
CHAPTER TWO
"Carter," Sam called out hoping to catch his attention as he walked away. "Who is Colleen Reilly?"
With that, Carter stopped dead in his tracks, his back turned to Sam. Because of what he and Luka had been through together in Africa, particularly the event of five months previous, there was a comfort level in their thoughts being kept between the two. They both had standard responses to inquiries, standard reactions and felt they handled it quite expertly - in a standard kind of way. Carter kept to himself, seeking Luka out only when needed. He assumed that Luka had shared his thoughts and feelings with Sam who he had become close to in the last several weeks. But he knew that that particular part of Africa had never been discussed. Even the two doctors rarely talked about it... or rather, her.
"Carter?"
Carter fidgeted as he looked around for something to take his attention away. The desk was quiet, the trauma and exam rooms all filled with patients and staff. If only a 9-1-1 came in the ambulance bay. Now. NOW.
"Who is this Colleen J. Reilly?"
"Not now," he whispered to himself, evidently loud enough for Sam to hear.
"Hmm? What?" She moved closer to Carter. "Was she on staff at the camp in Africa?"
"Not now," he said louder, clearing his throat. "I've got, ah, students to check up on."
"Pratt's got them tonight."
Carter finally turned around and faced Sam. "I really do have a lot of things to do. Charts and… Look, I'd be glad to explain… actually talk to you…, but now's just not a good time. Later, okay? I really would love to tell you all about the refugee camp…"
He tried in vain to seem nonchalant about the subject, then walked away and around the corner before Sam could ask him anything else. Luckily, he attached himself to Susan as she walked out the door.
"Where's Luka?"
"With a trauma, I think." Susan stopped in the ambulance bay to put her knit hat on. "Don't really care. I am exhausted. You two get Attending duties for the rest of the night. I have popcorn, a Twilight Zone marathon and a neglected boyfriend waiting for me at home. I think I get the better end of the deal." She fumbled with her purse as she dug around for her car keys. "Can you believe this weather? It's April for Gods sake."
"Yeah, well," Carter looked at his feet as they shuffled the dusting of snow back and forth, "supposed to warm up soon, I guess."
"Carter, aren't you cold?"
"You bet."
"Okay, who are you avoiding?"
"No one, really."
"Uh-huh. Look, it's probably none of my business, but whatever it is you and Luka are hiding from Sam - well, you need to talk to her about it. Whatever it is that happened in Africa - a drunken night, voodoo curse, another woman," Susan laughed, "hell, even if you guys went on a killing spree - you need to stop whispering about it behind her back. It can give a girl a complex…"
"You're right," Carter interrupted as he stuffed his nervous hands in his scrub pockets. "It's none of your business."
The cold night did little to assuage the uneasy atmosphere that drifted between Susan and Carter.
"I… I'm sorry, Susan. It's just that…" he drifted off without finishing his thought.
"You look tired, John," she countered, still pissed at his verbal lashing.
"So I've been told."
"Everything Okay?"
"Yup."
"How come we don't talk anymore?"
"Isn't that what we're doing now?"
"Hmmm. You can probably go back inside now. I've stalled you long enough."
Carter nodded, totally cognizant of the fact that he just dissed one of his few friends. With his head lowered away from the chilly wind, he just came short of bowling into Abby who was exiting the ER into the ambulance bay.
"Excuse me… I think," she got out as she spun around.
"Something's going on with him and Luka." Susan flipped the collar of her wool coat up to cover the back of her neck before heading off.
"Something's been going on with those two ever since they got back," Abby sputtered in the chilly air, putting on exam gloves. "Like two little boys in a clubhouse."
"He-Man-Woman-Haters Club?"
"Yeah, except which one is Alfalfa?" Abby laughed as she clapped her gloved hands together to keep warm.
"That's debatable. Got a trauma coming in?"
"Nothing exciting. Another bar fight."
"Well, good luck with that. And don't be afraid to call Security. And Abby," Susan moved in closer as a few more hospital staff stepped outside, "see if you can get Carter and Luka to take a step back and get some rest between traumas."
"You forget, I'm just a student. I'll see what I can do."
Back in the ER, Carter glanced to his left and saw Luka in Trauma-1 supervising a code: Malik bagging the intubated patient as Neela performed CPR. Pratt was at the board, everyone else absorbed in whatever it was they were doing, and the propped open door of the empty lounge beckoned for Carter. But before he could even make that right turn…
"Dr. Carter," Jerry caught him, "got a trauma coming in. ETA five to ten."
"What is it?" He combed his hair back with his fingers and let out a tired sigh.
"Eighteen year old gymnast versus a 400 pound bouncer. Facial trauma and broken hand. Ouch."
"Pratt?"
"I got it," the young resident announced putting a chart back in the rack. "Beats the clown with bleeding piles."
"Pratt," Carter put on his teaching voice as he walked by on the way to the lounge, "you really shouldn't be disrespecting the patients, especially in front of the students."
"No, the dude is really a clown. You know - white face, red nose, big floppy shoes."
"With piles…"
"Yeah, with big, nasty… clown piles."
"Thanks for sharing." Carter grimaced. "I hate clowns," he mumbled as he walked into the darkened lounge and kicked the stopper out from under the door so that it would close behind him. Peace and quiet. Even the coffee pot was full - just finishing a new brew.
He was halfway to his locker when he spotted Sam, dressed in her wool coat, hat, gloves and scarf, sitting on the windowsill looking out at the left over snowflakes floating to the street below. Carter had found Luka in the same spot earlier contemplating his past and maybe even his future. The streetlight cast a haze around her long curly locks of hair almost like a halo. She was so lost in thought, he couldn't help but sneak up and park himself directly behind her ear.
"Penny for your…"
Sam startled and gasped at Carter's voice.
"… thoughts."
"That's not very nice," she jokingly gave back, a diminutive smile crossing her face.
"Yeah, well, someone had to do it." Carter raised his eyebrows playfully as he poured a cup of coffee. "Been busy, I see."
"Made a new pot. That last one was putrid."
"I like my coffee strong."
"Strong is one thing, but coffee that has a mind of its own is another."
Carter's coffee had a reputation and the staff had a silent pact to always make sure the pot was fresh and full so as not to let him play barista.
"Waiting for Luka?" he surmised.
"You, actually. I wanted to let you know that I handed my patients off to Yosh."
"Hmm?"
"My shift ended at eleven. You wanted to know about Harold. I got him a bed on 3B but they're running late with shift change. They'll call down for transport when report is finished. Best I could do."
"Thanks."
The silence gave away their thoughts. She knew she had to ask. He knew it was coming.
"About that woman I asked you about…"
"Yeah." Carter decided the only way to put an end to the inquiry was to give her matter-of-fact answers with little to question. "She was a photojournalist. Her name probably rang a bell with you. She was kind of famous."
"Was?"
"Um… yeah. She, ah, died… after doing a story on the camp." Carter looked into his coffee mug, at the clock, his watch, the Cure Autism Now poster on the wall… anywhere but at Sam.
"Okay, why would you and Luka be so secretive about that?"
"I asked Luka not to talk about her," he lied. It was actually a mutual need to keep anything and everything about Colleen Reilly in their tightly locked heads. "She and I had a… thing…" Not so much a lie there. Just a twist. "And… it really is nothing." That's when he ventured into big time cattle rustling lies and hoped that her bullshit meter wasn't calibrated properly.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay." A change of direction was in order. "Look Sam, any time you want to know about the refuge camp, or about the program, come see me. I can get you all kinds of literature and stuff. But, ah, break time's over, I guess. Gotta get back to work." Carter was a pro at this. He had figured out how to get around a deep discussion with therapists, AA folks, and even himself by cutting and running.
"Yeah - I've got to get home and relieve Mrs. Crocker. Great babysitter, but doesn't come cheap once midnight hits."
Both Carter and Sam walked out of the lounge and past the Admit desk at the same time before veering off in different directions. Yosh and Pratt were restraining the drunk gymnast on the gurney as Sam walked toward the ambulance bay doors.
"Sam, I know you're off, but could you take this death kit into Trauma-1?" Yosh was asking while on the move. "I think they're going to need it and I used the last one."
"I've got it." Carter was on top of things. "You need to get home to Alex." The death kit was snatched up, and before Sam could even answer Yosh, Carter was in the trauma room.
"... pressers aren't working and we've maxed out the epi," Luka listed out loud to the staff consisting of nurses, med students and residents. "Is there anything else someone would like to try?" The room remained quiet except for the hum of the machines and exertion of the chest compressions made by the student who had taken Neela's place. "Is everyone on board with calling this?" Luka was careful to look around the room and make eye contact with all who was involved with the code. "Okay then, time of death… 23:26. Thank you everyone."
"Want me to call Social Services for the family?" Carter asked.
"No. No family. She was living at a shelter - had a long life."
"Listen," Carter spoke quietly as the two backed into a corner to give the staff room to work, "you've never mentioned Colleen to Sam, right?" Luka stopped what he was doing and suddenly focused only on Carter. "Somehow, Kerry got to her with that phone message about Colleen. I couldn't avoid her all night. Finally told her the bare minimum -that she was a photojournalist who covered the PCRC. And…"
"And…?"
"And that she died after doing a story on the camp." There. He told Luka only the bare minimum as well.
The two doctors halted their strained conversation just long enough for Luka to sign some papers handed to him by the nurse, not to mention notice Sam standing at the doors to the ambulance bay watching the conversation from afar.
"Leave it to Weaver to open a can of worms and walk away," Luka bemoaned.
"I don't think I left the subject open. Minimalized it as much as I could."
"Minimalized?" Luka laughed. "You've been watching Dr. Phil again."
"Well, yeah. What can I say? It's good for the soul."
Luka noticed Carter's unease that had crept in gradually as the evening wore on. Even through his good natured humor. "What's wrong?" he asked.
Carter attempted a lame smile and shook his head, but Luka saw through it.
"I'll keep asking until you tell me, you know."
"Just that… Weaver and that note…" Carter fumbled as he tried to figure out for himself why he felt so off. "… that news report…"
"What news report?" Luka crossed his arms in front of him and leaned back against the wall as they both brought their voices down another level in their secrecy.
"On CNN - about our friend Jules, and this other guy who helped me out while I was looking for you. Actually pointed me right to you. Seems he's taken Jules' place in the hierarchy of rebels."
"Want to tell me about him?"
"Not really." There was a lot Carter didn't want to share with Luka about Emile, and especially the details regarding Colleen. He knew the basics. That was enough. "All this stuff… the things that happened and all… I thought they were all neatly filed away."
"Doesn't take much to trigger those memories. They can really take over your senses."
"Guess so."
Sam watched as Luka and Carter talked quietly together in the corner of the trauma room while the nursing staff prepared the patient's body for transfer to the morgue. And she knew Luka saw her watching. It wasn't the first time.
"Yoohoo - I said, are you leaving?" Abby waved her hand in front of Sam's eyes to break her concentration.
"Um, yeah. Just wanted to say good-bye to Luka."
Both men exited the trauma room and walked over to the women, who tried to look as though they were talking about other things.
"Spying are we?" Carter asked as he playfully elbowed Abby.
"Why? Do you feel like you're being watched? Get these feelings of paranoia often? Are there… voices?" Abby asked teasingly.
"Ha, ha," Carter turned to go back to the Admit desk. "See you Sam. Thanks for your help with that patient."
Luka tapped his shoulder just before Carter could get too far. "About those… worms… let me know if I can help."
"Sure."
"Hmm. Code," Sam remarked to Abby. "They're doing it again."
"Speaking of helping out, Luka," Abby offered, "Susan wanted me to try and convince you and Carter to get some rest between traumas tonight."
Luka rolled his eyes as he moved in closer to feel Sam's warmth. "Yes, mother."
A rush of cold air accompanied paramedics and a patient propped up on a gurney as the bay doors flew open. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger," Abby moaned as she escorted the new arrivals into the ER.
"After tonight, I'm off until Monday." Luka walked Sam outside, wrapping his arms around her once they were out of sight of prying eyes. "How about you?"
"Not so lucky. I have to be back here tomorrow morning to cover that student nurses' seminar postponed from last night."
Luka groaned as he nuzzled her hair and tenderly pecked her cheek. "Well, then, I'll take advantage of the day tomorrow and sleep it away. Then we can find something to do tomorrow night after Alex goes to bed."
"He's sleeping over at Josh's house."
"Even better. We won't have to worry about him walking in on …" Luka playfully teased Sam's lips, "… something."
Secure in their embrace, smiling and kissing their goodnights, Sam looked at her watch and reluctantly broke away from the snuggle. "I'll give you a call tomorrow."
They walked away from each other - Sam towards the street, Luka into the ER - but still managed to turn their heads one more time to catch sight of one another. Sam's hair blew into her face, catching on her mouth. Luka, his head almost bashfully tipped down, grinned sheepishly.
"What are you doing?" Luka was obviously the delivery boy chosen by lottery as he carried a tray of specialty coffees from across the street. "Yours is the one on my left. Double Latte Macchiato. We'll be pulling you off the ceiling in short time." Abby ceased leaning against the window looking into the darkened exam-2 from the adjoining trauma room and took her caffeine fix. "What are you doing?" Luka asked again.
"Watching him sleep." Abby nodded towards a figure stretched out on a bed, the blinds to the corridor drawn. "Since when has Carter been a restless sleeper?"
Luka leaned in closer to the window to get a better look. Carter was tossing from his side to his back, rubbing his face with his hands and mumbling.
"That's some dream he's having," she remarked.
Luka remained silent as he watched Carter.
"Is this a stabbing thing?"
"Hmm?" Luka was only half paying attention to Abby as he watched Carter's movements.
"Do you think he's having dreams still about the stabbing?"
"No," he spoke almost to himself, "it's not that." Luka pushed the tray into Abby's hands and slowly opened the door into exam-2. "I've got this," he rebuffed her as she started to follow him. "It's okay. He's been working extra shifts for Chen, and we're down a resident with Gallant gone. He's just over tired."
Luka was careful to shut the door behind him and close that last blind that had allowed Abby and him to see Carter. The room was eerily quiet, the whole department was. Carter jolted slightly and raised his hand to scratch at his face. By the looks of the marks on his neck and cheek it appeared as though he had been doing this for a while. His mumbles were unintelligible, but he seemed to gasp between words and lick at his lips as though parched. Luka knew just where he was and didn't want to wake him too quickly.
"Carter." He quietly leaned into his ear and gently laid a hand on the sleeping man's shoulder. "John." As Luka carefully took Carter's hand and guided it away from his scratched neck, Carter's eyes flew open.
"The flies…" he gasped as he tightly grabbed Luka's wrist.
"No, no flies here." Luka's voice was calm. "You need to wake up, John."
As Carter recognized his surroundings, he bolted up right and swung his legs over the side of the gurney. "Trauma coming in?"
"No. It's almost 5 o'clock. I'm sending you home early. Nothing's going on." Carter sat still as he looked at his watch and took in what he was hearing, still waking up. "Thought you didn't dream."
"I don't."
"You've sweat completely through your scrubs. Didn't look like it was a very pleasant dream."
Carter cleared his throat and got up, stretching the tight muscles in his back. "Actually, I should be sending you home. You're the moonlighter."
"Nah. We're not the only Attendings here. It just looks like it. Go on. But I don't want you driving all the way out to that house." Luka pulled his key chain from his pocket and took one key off handing it to Carter. "Here, go sack out on my sofa. It's just a few blocks away."
Carter was glad that he had taken Luka up on his offer to crash at his apartment. Luckily the streets at five in the morning weren't tied up, which gave him some measure of comfort as he accidentally blew one light and then jumped the curb when he parked in front of the building. Too many double shifts, he thought as he climbed the stairs. Have to put a fire under Kerry's ass to get replacements for Gallant and Chen.
His feet felt like lead as he plodded over to Luka's leather sofa, kicked his shoes off, and fell face down onto the cushions. The cold surface momentarily awakened him, but by his third breath he was long gone into the depths of sleep where he resumed his tossing and turning of previous.
Her hair hung in thick strands of curls, the ends bouncing on her pale white shoulders as she sat on the bed, pulling him down with her as the draped netting hanging from above framed their intertwined bodies. The heat between them joined their body parts and together with the accumulating sweat, acted as an adhesive.
But there was almost a feeling of being watched. Being directed.
The taste of sweet apple juice minced between their mouths as she suckled on his lips one at a time, then his tongue. She mercilessly teased him as she flung her head back laughing, her red hair cascading down her now naked back, his eager mouth landing on her elusively delicate throat. Eventually he grabbed at the back of her neck and pulled her into him, not allowing her to manipulate the games of passion she so expertly played.
"I thank you for coming to liberate me …"
The man's thick accent and the spit laden air being sucked between his teeth grated on him. His shoulder was gripped - a firm hand - and he was thrown to the ground.
"I thank you…"