" ER/Stand - Part 5"
The cafeteria was lit with over a dozen flashlights. It was the sort of thing that Doug would have considered silly if he'd been in a better frame of mind. Even in his inebriated state, he didn't really see why Jeanie, Lucy and Carter had chosen to hold council in a room with no electricity and no windows. Granted, there seemed to be fewer dead bodies which was nice, but he just didn't get it.
Lucy had a iv hooked into her left arm. The better part of her lab coat sleeve had been chopped off, making her look ragged and lopsided. There was a large bandage on her upper arm. It's neat appearance told Doug that either Carter or Jeanie had taken care of the young woman. She looked a bit pale. For an instant, he felt a way of sympathy. She wasn't more than twenty four, a young kid that just wanted to be a doctor, and it was all over. It was going to be a very long time before anyone reopened a medical school, or a hospital for that matter. And of course, she'd been shot.
" So did Kerry shoot you?" he asked her as he and Kovac took a seat at the table. It still didn't seem clear to him exactly what had happened. Randi had been pretty clear that it had been the dead army man, but she had stayed in the hallway to "be the guard", and Carter and Lucy's excited prattling had managed to confuse the hell out of him. Kovac seemed equally confused.
Lucy frowned at him. Much like Kovac, she was clearly disapproving the fact that it was ten in the morning and he was plastered. " No, Dr. Ross. Captain Walker shot me. Then Dr. Weaver killed him." She winced as she moved her arm. " I think she's had a breakdown."
" I think, " Jeanie said after a long moment, " that we don't need to be focusing on a diagnosis right now." Jeanie's tone was just a notch below angry. Doug could see her jaw clench as she leaned across the table. " This is already an extremely stressful situation. We need to get the gun away from Kerry. I don't think she intended the level of... of overkill. I certainly don't think we need to worry about *our* safety."
" What if she's not out of ammunition?" Lucy countered.
" What if she's hemorrhaging inside of her skull?" Carter shot back. " We tried waiting it out with Walker, and look what happened. I say we go in there, and just give her a sedative. Yes, she'll be mad, but we need to make sure she's ok."
" And if she shoots you Carter?" Lucy asked. " What then? I didn't see a lot of restraint on her part. She's not rational. If we wait, she'll eventually have to sleep. Then we can get the gun away. Dr. Kovac, what do you think?"
Kovac looked uncomfortable, yet pleased to be included. " If she does have a severe head injury, " he said slowly, " what would you do? Operating without x-rays or electric power would be a guessing game..." Doug almost grinned at how quickly poor Kovac had gotten sucked into the weird hysteria. He gave the big man credit, Kovac was trying to divert everyone from their panic. It wasn't going to work, at least not for a while. Kovac had no way of knowing that both Carter and Lucy were punch drunk from shock and exhaustion. So was Jeanie, but Doug sensed that if she had been alone, the gun would have long been taken away.
None of them seemed to notice when he got up. He walked out into the hallway. Randi was leaning up against the wall, keeping one eye on the lounge door. She smiled just a little as he approached. " Get tired of the debating club?"
He grinned. Randi always did have a rather sarcastic sense of humor. " I thought I might see if Dr. Weaver would talk." And if she was violent, he wasn't terribly concerned. He'd promised Carol, as she was dying in his arms, that he wouldn't commit suicide, but it could hardly be considered anything but an accident if he was shot.
Randi sized him up with a glance. " She's not violent, you know. That guy, he did something. Come here." She walked around to behind the desk and pointed. Doug saw Weaver's crutch propped up against the wall, but it was badly bent. " Those are made to take punishment. She told me that he hit her with her crutch. You got to wonder, how many times and how hard did he hit her to do that?"
" Interesting point," he slurred. He knew Randi had just pointed something significant out, and that he knew what it was, but he didn't want to think very hard just yet. " The lounge door *is* locked? "
" To some." Randi's eyes twinkled. " I picked it about an hour ago. You're going to go in there? For real?" It seemed to please and worry her at the same time.
" Yes... Why, do you want a coke?" Doug grinned. " I'll bring you one if you'll clear out an exam room and maybe find me a suture kit."
" Hmm hauling dead bodies in exchange for a soda. I guess since I'm obviously not getting a paycheck this week, I'll do it." She gestured to the lounge door. " After you."
" Thanks." Doug suspected he was getting the short end of the stick. He opened the lounge door and walked in.
It seemed surprisingly normal. The bright sunlight streaming in through the window made the room look the way it normally did. Kerry was sitting at the table, charts piled around her. He watched as she wrote something onto a chart. Her eye lids fluttered and for a second her head nodded. Then she jerked back upright. She didn't seem to notice as he walked around the table and took a seat opposite her. He spotted the large cut on the right side of her head. It was still trickling blood. She needs stitches, he thought. Stitches and maybe a Prozac chaser. The gun was inches away from her right hand, but she seemed pretty calm as she scribbled away on another chart.
" Kerry?" She looked up at the sound. Oh, you're definitely not here with the rest of us, he thought as he looked into her eyes. Her pupils were huge, and he could see her entire body tremoring. He knew that not sleeping for an extended period of time could cause irrationality and the present situation wasn't helping, but there was more wrong than just the simple notion that she had slipped a mental gear or two.
" Doug." She blinked. " You look tired. What happened to your hair? You look a lot more gray." She seemed concerned. " You look tired."
He managed a smile. " It's been a pretty bad week for everyone, I think." He had looked in a mirror the day before, and been surprised and shocked to see that his hair had gone from salt and pepper to mostly dark gray in a matter of days. It had, amongst other things, sent him off to find a bottle. He was irritated that it was the first thing she thought to ask him, but he reminded himself that she'd also shot and killed a man an hour earlier. And, he thought, I'm drunk and easily pissed off. Let's try this again. " How are you doing?"
" I'm fine. Just finishing up the charts." She wrote something on the chart and then set it aside abruptly as if she had just been struck by an important thought. An important thought but she clearly was having trouble focusing on it. Finally, she said, " Mark... You went to check on Mark. How is he?"
" He's dead." There was no point in lying to her. She had spoken to Mark on the phone and he had been sneezing and coughing. " He died about three days ago." He pushed the image of Mark's death away in his mind. He didn't really want to think about it just yet. Not without a bottle in hand.
Her expression changed subtly. " I liked Mark." She cradled her head in him arms and closed her eyes. " My head hurts so badly, and Mark's dead and I liked him." After a moment, she looked up at him. " And Carol. I liked her. She was good for you. What... what did we do to deserve this?"
He didn't answer. He couldn't answer. He didn't know. He suspected he was being punished, and rightly so, for treating Carol so badly. He should have married her, he shouldn't have cheated on her, and now he was paying the price. He decided to try and get things under control. " Kerry, what day is it?"
She blinked again. It took her a moment to come up with the answer. " Its Wednesday. Why are you asking me that?"
" Because it's Saturday, Kerry." He decided to try something else. He stood up and walked around so that he was behind her, leaning over. He gently touched the side of her head. " You're bleeding. I think we need to take a look at you. " He looked down her scrub shirt at the skin on her neck and back. There were welts forming, which he had suspected. " You might have a concussion." Or worse, but as Kovac had pointed out, there was precious little they could do if that was the case.
She touched the cut on her head, and seemed surprised to find blood on her finger tips. " How did..." For a moment, she seemed to contemplate it, then she visibly shook it off. " I'm fine, Doug. Really. I have to finish these charts up."
It almost made him laugh, but he choked it down. It *was* funny that she was obsessing over the charts, but it wasn't funny that she was injured. In different circumstances, if he wasn't drunk and if Kerry didn't have a pistol within her reach, he would have simply manhandled her into an exam room. He didn't want it to come to that. He *was* drunk. He knew regardless that he could force her, but he didn't want to hurt her because his own coordination wasn't the greatest. More to the point, he was positive that less than three hours earlier some other man had manhandled the crap out of her. He wasn't terribly concerned about long term outcomes for himself, but he wanted to minimize damaging her. He knew her well enough to know she was going to hate herself for a long time over shooting the army captain, even if the man did deserve it. He didn't want to make it worse. " If I help you finish the charts, will you let me examine you? Just to make sure you're fine."
It took her a moment to consider that. " You don't like to do charts." Still, she seemed pleased at the offer.
" There isn't that many." He took half of the remaining stack. There was six left, and he knew he could fake it pretty well. He quickly signed the paperwork, noting idly that everyone seemed to have died from flu related complications. " I'm done. Looks like you're done too. How about I check you over?"
She looked up at him. " I'm fine."
" You're bleeding. Remember?" He mentally crossed his fingers on the hope that he didn't have to explain it again.
" Ok..." She stood up slowly, " Where's my crutch? I set it down... And..." She put a hand to her head. " I don't know what happened to it..."
It was broken over your head, Doug thought, but I don't want to remind you of that just yet. Not until you're out of reach of the gun. " It's ok. We'll find it after we check you out." He took a step closer to her, sensing that she wasn't steady enough to walk very far.
" I *am* fine," Kerry insisted as she took a lurching, off balance step. Doug quickly wrapped one of his arms around her waist.
" Of course you're fine," he said easily. " Let's just make sure."
Carter yawned. He couldn't help it. He was tired. Exhausted to the core really, and he could admit, at least to himself, that he wasn't feeling much like coping. He was worried about Kerry, but the best reason he had for running into the lounge with a syringe full of sedatives was that once she was calmed down, he could proceed with his own nervous breakdown. He wanted to sleep for a few days, curled up in a ball, and not think about how everything had gone to hell. It was selfish, and he knew it, but he was just so tired.
" We're not accomplishing anything." He said it forcefully. " We have sat here for an hour and done nothing. I say, we go in there, sedate Dr. Weaver and then get out of here. We *all* need to get away from here."
" Ok." Jeanie said. " Let's get out of here. Where do we go? Do you have a suggestion, Carter?"
Carter nodded. It was like Jeanie to cut to the chase. Out of the small group assembled, she seemed to be the one keeping up with the situation without losing it. " My grandparents house. It's outside of the city. There's an emergency generator and the water comes from a well."
" Great. Any other suggestions?" Jeanie didn't wait for answers. " Then we'll do that. "
" Do what?" They all turned. Doug staggered into the cafeteria, a bottle in hand. Carter had never known the older man to be more than a casual drinker, but Doug had obviously decided that drinking was the best way to handle the crisis. Carter wasn't sure it was such a bad idea. A drink sounded like a nice proposition. Doug eyed them all. " Just what the hell have you people been, aside from twiddling your thumbs up your asses? Do you realize that guy beat Kerry senseless? Oh, by the way, I got the gun away from her and she's asleep in exam room three, no thanks to any of you. I ended up putting about fourteen sutures into her scalp. Where the hell were you all when that bastard was attacking her?"
Carter hung his head. He'd barely been able to keep track of himself over the last few days. After a second, Jeanie stood up. She was angry, Carter could see that plainly.
" Where the hell were you, Doug?" She shouted, her rage clear. " See, I don't recall seeing you in for the past seven days working yourself so hard that you can't even see straight. I don't think *you* have any damn right to judge any of us."
" Did you take an extra bitch pill this morning, Jeanie?" Doug said with a smirk.
Before Jeanie could jump across the table, Luka stood up and neatly placed himself between the two. Carter was impressed. " I think, " he said softly, " that we need to get out of here." He turned to Carter. " You said your grandparents place was outside the city?"
Carter nodded. " The estate is pretty isolated."
" Well, I think its a good idea to get out of the city for a while. Do any of you have a car?" Kovac gently steered Doug towards a chair away from Jeanie.
" I have my jeep here." Carter said quickly. He was suddenly overtaken by the urge to leave. He could see by the expressions on everyone else's faces that they were feeling the same thing.
" My car is here too." Jeanie said. She took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm down. " Let's pack up some medical supplies and get out of here. I think this place is making us all a little crazy."
Carter nodded along with everyone else. The hospital, with no power and the growing stench of dead bodies, was no place for the living.
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The cafeteria was lit with over a dozen flashlights. It was the sort of thing that Doug would have considered silly if he'd been in a better frame of mind. Even in his inebriated state, he didn't really see why Jeanie, Lucy and Carter had chosen to hold council in a room with no electricity and no windows. Granted, there seemed to be fewer dead bodies which was nice, but he just didn't get it.
Lucy had a iv hooked into her left arm. The better part of her lab coat sleeve had been chopped off, making her look ragged and lopsided. There was a large bandage on her upper arm. It's neat appearance told Doug that either Carter or Jeanie had taken care of the young woman. She looked a bit pale. For an instant, he felt a way of sympathy. She wasn't more than twenty four, a young kid that just wanted to be a doctor, and it was all over. It was going to be a very long time before anyone reopened a medical school, or a hospital for that matter. And of course, she'd been shot.
" So did Kerry shoot you?" he asked her as he and Kovac took a seat at the table. It still didn't seem clear to him exactly what had happened. Randi had been pretty clear that it had been the dead army man, but she had stayed in the hallway to "be the guard", and Carter and Lucy's excited prattling had managed to confuse the hell out of him. Kovac seemed equally confused.
Lucy frowned at him. Much like Kovac, she was clearly disapproving the fact that it was ten in the morning and he was plastered. " No, Dr. Ross. Captain Walker shot me. Then Dr. Weaver killed him." She winced as she moved her arm. " I think she's had a breakdown."
" I think, " Jeanie said after a long moment, " that we don't need to be focusing on a diagnosis right now." Jeanie's tone was just a notch below angry. Doug could see her jaw clench as she leaned across the table. " This is already an extremely stressful situation. We need to get the gun away from Kerry. I don't think she intended the level of... of overkill. I certainly don't think we need to worry about *our* safety."
" What if she's not out of ammunition?" Lucy countered.
" What if she's hemorrhaging inside of her skull?" Carter shot back. " We tried waiting it out with Walker, and look what happened. I say we go in there, and just give her a sedative. Yes, she'll be mad, but we need to make sure she's ok."
" And if she shoots you Carter?" Lucy asked. " What then? I didn't see a lot of restraint on her part. She's not rational. If we wait, she'll eventually have to sleep. Then we can get the gun away. Dr. Kovac, what do you think?"
Kovac looked uncomfortable, yet pleased to be included. " If she does have a severe head injury, " he said slowly, " what would you do? Operating without x-rays or electric power would be a guessing game..." Doug almost grinned at how quickly poor Kovac had gotten sucked into the weird hysteria. He gave the big man credit, Kovac was trying to divert everyone from their panic. It wasn't going to work, at least not for a while. Kovac had no way of knowing that both Carter and Lucy were punch drunk from shock and exhaustion. So was Jeanie, but Doug sensed that if she had been alone, the gun would have long been taken away.
None of them seemed to notice when he got up. He walked out into the hallway. Randi was leaning up against the wall, keeping one eye on the lounge door. She smiled just a little as he approached. " Get tired of the debating club?"
He grinned. Randi always did have a rather sarcastic sense of humor. " I thought I might see if Dr. Weaver would talk." And if she was violent, he wasn't terribly concerned. He'd promised Carol, as she was dying in his arms, that he wouldn't commit suicide, but it could hardly be considered anything but an accident if he was shot.
Randi sized him up with a glance. " She's not violent, you know. That guy, he did something. Come here." She walked around to behind the desk and pointed. Doug saw Weaver's crutch propped up against the wall, but it was badly bent. " Those are made to take punishment. She told me that he hit her with her crutch. You got to wonder, how many times and how hard did he hit her to do that?"
" Interesting point," he slurred. He knew Randi had just pointed something significant out, and that he knew what it was, but he didn't want to think very hard just yet. " The lounge door *is* locked? "
" To some." Randi's eyes twinkled. " I picked it about an hour ago. You're going to go in there? For real?" It seemed to please and worry her at the same time.
" Yes... Why, do you want a coke?" Doug grinned. " I'll bring you one if you'll clear out an exam room and maybe find me a suture kit."
" Hmm hauling dead bodies in exchange for a soda. I guess since I'm obviously not getting a paycheck this week, I'll do it." She gestured to the lounge door. " After you."
" Thanks." Doug suspected he was getting the short end of the stick. He opened the lounge door and walked in.
It seemed surprisingly normal. The bright sunlight streaming in through the window made the room look the way it normally did. Kerry was sitting at the table, charts piled around her. He watched as she wrote something onto a chart. Her eye lids fluttered and for a second her head nodded. Then she jerked back upright. She didn't seem to notice as he walked around the table and took a seat opposite her. He spotted the large cut on the right side of her head. It was still trickling blood. She needs stitches, he thought. Stitches and maybe a Prozac chaser. The gun was inches away from her right hand, but she seemed pretty calm as she scribbled away on another chart.
" Kerry?" She looked up at the sound. Oh, you're definitely not here with the rest of us, he thought as he looked into her eyes. Her pupils were huge, and he could see her entire body tremoring. He knew that not sleeping for an extended period of time could cause irrationality and the present situation wasn't helping, but there was more wrong than just the simple notion that she had slipped a mental gear or two.
" Doug." She blinked. " You look tired. What happened to your hair? You look a lot more gray." She seemed concerned. " You look tired."
He managed a smile. " It's been a pretty bad week for everyone, I think." He had looked in a mirror the day before, and been surprised and shocked to see that his hair had gone from salt and pepper to mostly dark gray in a matter of days. It had, amongst other things, sent him off to find a bottle. He was irritated that it was the first thing she thought to ask him, but he reminded himself that she'd also shot and killed a man an hour earlier. And, he thought, I'm drunk and easily pissed off. Let's try this again. " How are you doing?"
" I'm fine. Just finishing up the charts." She wrote something on the chart and then set it aside abruptly as if she had just been struck by an important thought. An important thought but she clearly was having trouble focusing on it. Finally, she said, " Mark... You went to check on Mark. How is he?"
" He's dead." There was no point in lying to her. She had spoken to Mark on the phone and he had been sneezing and coughing. " He died about three days ago." He pushed the image of Mark's death away in his mind. He didn't really want to think about it just yet. Not without a bottle in hand.
Her expression changed subtly. " I liked Mark." She cradled her head in him arms and closed her eyes. " My head hurts so badly, and Mark's dead and I liked him." After a moment, she looked up at him. " And Carol. I liked her. She was good for you. What... what did we do to deserve this?"
He didn't answer. He couldn't answer. He didn't know. He suspected he was being punished, and rightly so, for treating Carol so badly. He should have married her, he shouldn't have cheated on her, and now he was paying the price. He decided to try and get things under control. " Kerry, what day is it?"
She blinked again. It took her a moment to come up with the answer. " Its Wednesday. Why are you asking me that?"
" Because it's Saturday, Kerry." He decided to try something else. He stood up and walked around so that he was behind her, leaning over. He gently touched the side of her head. " You're bleeding. I think we need to take a look at you. " He looked down her scrub shirt at the skin on her neck and back. There were welts forming, which he had suspected. " You might have a concussion." Or worse, but as Kovac had pointed out, there was precious little they could do if that was the case.
She touched the cut on her head, and seemed surprised to find blood on her finger tips. " How did..." For a moment, she seemed to contemplate it, then she visibly shook it off. " I'm fine, Doug. Really. I have to finish these charts up."
It almost made him laugh, but he choked it down. It *was* funny that she was obsessing over the charts, but it wasn't funny that she was injured. In different circumstances, if he wasn't drunk and if Kerry didn't have a pistol within her reach, he would have simply manhandled her into an exam room. He didn't want it to come to that. He *was* drunk. He knew regardless that he could force her, but he didn't want to hurt her because his own coordination wasn't the greatest. More to the point, he was positive that less than three hours earlier some other man had manhandled the crap out of her. He wasn't terribly concerned about long term outcomes for himself, but he wanted to minimize damaging her. He knew her well enough to know she was going to hate herself for a long time over shooting the army captain, even if the man did deserve it. He didn't want to make it worse. " If I help you finish the charts, will you let me examine you? Just to make sure you're fine."
It took her a moment to consider that. " You don't like to do charts." Still, she seemed pleased at the offer.
" There isn't that many." He took half of the remaining stack. There was six left, and he knew he could fake it pretty well. He quickly signed the paperwork, noting idly that everyone seemed to have died from flu related complications. " I'm done. Looks like you're done too. How about I check you over?"
She looked up at him. " I'm fine."
" You're bleeding. Remember?" He mentally crossed his fingers on the hope that he didn't have to explain it again.
" Ok..." She stood up slowly, " Where's my crutch? I set it down... And..." She put a hand to her head. " I don't know what happened to it..."
It was broken over your head, Doug thought, but I don't want to remind you of that just yet. Not until you're out of reach of the gun. " It's ok. We'll find it after we check you out." He took a step closer to her, sensing that she wasn't steady enough to walk very far.
" I *am* fine," Kerry insisted as she took a lurching, off balance step. Doug quickly wrapped one of his arms around her waist.
" Of course you're fine," he said easily. " Let's just make sure."
Carter yawned. He couldn't help it. He was tired. Exhausted to the core really, and he could admit, at least to himself, that he wasn't feeling much like coping. He was worried about Kerry, but the best reason he had for running into the lounge with a syringe full of sedatives was that once she was calmed down, he could proceed with his own nervous breakdown. He wanted to sleep for a few days, curled up in a ball, and not think about how everything had gone to hell. It was selfish, and he knew it, but he was just so tired.
" We're not accomplishing anything." He said it forcefully. " We have sat here for an hour and done nothing. I say, we go in there, sedate Dr. Weaver and then get out of here. We *all* need to get away from here."
" Ok." Jeanie said. " Let's get out of here. Where do we go? Do you have a suggestion, Carter?"
Carter nodded. It was like Jeanie to cut to the chase. Out of the small group assembled, she seemed to be the one keeping up with the situation without losing it. " My grandparents house. It's outside of the city. There's an emergency generator and the water comes from a well."
" Great. Any other suggestions?" Jeanie didn't wait for answers. " Then we'll do that. "
" Do what?" They all turned. Doug staggered into the cafeteria, a bottle in hand. Carter had never known the older man to be more than a casual drinker, but Doug had obviously decided that drinking was the best way to handle the crisis. Carter wasn't sure it was such a bad idea. A drink sounded like a nice proposition. Doug eyed them all. " Just what the hell have you people been, aside from twiddling your thumbs up your asses? Do you realize that guy beat Kerry senseless? Oh, by the way, I got the gun away from her and she's asleep in exam room three, no thanks to any of you. I ended up putting about fourteen sutures into her scalp. Where the hell were you all when that bastard was attacking her?"
Carter hung his head. He'd barely been able to keep track of himself over the last few days. After a second, Jeanie stood up. She was angry, Carter could see that plainly.
" Where the hell were you, Doug?" She shouted, her rage clear. " See, I don't recall seeing you in for the past seven days working yourself so hard that you can't even see straight. I don't think *you* have any damn right to judge any of us."
" Did you take an extra bitch pill this morning, Jeanie?" Doug said with a smirk.
Before Jeanie could jump across the table, Luka stood up and neatly placed himself between the two. Carter was impressed. " I think, " he said softly, " that we need to get out of here." He turned to Carter. " You said your grandparents place was outside the city?"
Carter nodded. " The estate is pretty isolated."
" Well, I think its a good idea to get out of the city for a while. Do any of you have a car?" Kovac gently steered Doug towards a chair away from Jeanie.
" I have my jeep here." Carter said quickly. He was suddenly overtaken by the urge to leave. He could see by the expressions on everyone else's faces that they were feeling the same thing.
" My car is here too." Jeanie said. She took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm down. " Let's pack up some medical supplies and get out of here. I think this place is making us all a little crazy."
Carter nodded along with everyone else. The hospital, with no power and the growing stench of dead bodies, was no place for the living.
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