Homeless Once More, Part Seven
By Cathy Roberts
glroberts@bigfoot.com
The sound of an ambulance grew louder and Mark ended up leaving a message with Anspaugh's secretary before hanging up and going outside to meet the paramedics and their precious cargo. Kerry's car pulled up also, and Kerry and a middle aged man got out, then the car drove away. Mark assumed that the driver was heading for the parking garage. He was anxious as the driver of the ambulance opened the doors and they pulled Carter out. The paramedics never got a chance to roll that gurney into the E. R.; the staff was immediately there to take over. They gave the doctor the bullet, then quickly headed out the minute the patient was transferred to the exam table.
Kerry took Roland straight to the lounge, thinking it would be a little nicer than chairs for him and Mrs. Carter.
"I'm going to see how things are going with John. I'll be right back. I'll have the desk clerk be on the look-out for Mrs. Carter."
"Are you sure that I can't be in there with him?"
"It's better if you wait here."
She headed for Trauma One, telling Randi to send Mrs. Carter into the lounge once she arrived. When Kerry entered the trauma room, it was strangely quiet. Everyone was doing their jobs, but no one was being told what to do. The only person doing any talking was Mark, and he was calmly telling Carter what he was going to do before he did it. Standard rape treatment protocol. She noticed that Hugh McIntyre had slipped into the room as well and she went over to him.
"I'm glad that you're still here."
"Me, too. Have his parents been notified?"
"His father was one of the people who found him."
McIntyre's eyebrows raised at that information, "Really? Is he here?"
"I put him in the lounge. Mrs. Carter is also on her way. He said that she didn't take the news well."
"Kerry?" Mark called her over.
"Excuse me," Kerry went to Mark's side.
"Has he been conscious the entire time?"
"He's been just like this, Mark. He's bleeding a little from both head wounds. As you can see, the first is bad, but I don't think the one on the back of his head is serious enough for stitches."
"I see. Okay, I need to check to see if there was penetration." Mark began the exam, talking as he proceeded and making notations on a line drawing of the male body, "There's bruising on his upper thighs, but not on his groin. There's some dried blood on his thigh, but there are no physical signs of penetration here. I'm going to take a swab anyway, just in case. I also want some swabs from his mouth. Carol, send a blood sample up for STD's and an HIV test. As soon as I'm done here, I want a CT of his shoulder and head." Mark handed the swab to Malik, who bagged it, and labeled it, then Mark proceeded to take swabs from Carter's mouth, also handing them off to Malik. Malik waited for Carol to give him the blood sample before heading up to the lab. Mark quickly finished with the rest of the items from the rape kit, then got out of the way so Malik and Lydia could take Carter for the CT's. "Looks like I kept you here for nothing, Peter. I don't think he needs immediate surgery. Unless you want to do the stitches once he's back."
Peter nodded, "If you don't mind. I'll be waiting down here."
Mark nodded, "I'm going to go with him." He followed the gurney down the hall.
Kerry turned her attention back to McIntyre, "Would you like to meet Mr. Carter?"
"Yes. Lead the way."
Kerry led him out of the trauma room.
Benton stood there, an anger building up inside of him. John Carter did not deserve to have something like this happen to him. No one did, but especially not him. Elizabeth came to the door, watching him with concern. She jumped as he suddenly slammed his hand into the wall.
"You didn't break anything did you?" she approached him and gently took his hand in her own, probing it to see if anything was broken.
"No. You don't have to tell me how stupid that was. It's just that I feel so..."
"Helpless?"
"Yeah. I've known Carter for a long time. He was my student."
"I know, I've heard some of the stories. Like how he faked a surgical case to get you into surgery and ended up having Anspaugh show up to observe your operation," she smiled slightly.
"Yeah. That was a good one. He was an intern by then."
"Peter, what happened to make him leave surgery?"
"I really don't know. He tried to explain it to me, but I've never really understood why he does the things he does. When he first became my student, I tried so hard to get him to quit. I was convinced that he didn't have what it took to be a surgeon. He was stubborn though. He proved me wrong time and time again, that's why I was so shocked when he switched. There were a lot of things going on in my life then - Carla was pregnant with Reese, I had undergone an appendectomy - performed by Carter." He shook his head. "I don't know how it is that I lost him, Elizabeth."
"Well, from what I've seen, he's one fine trauma doctor. And, he did an excellent job on your appendectomy. I don't think I've seen a scar that fine."
"He did well. How could something like this happen to him?" he repeated.
"I don't know. I wasn't in here when Mark was examining him. Was there penetration?"
"There was some blood, but it appears to be just smears from Carter's other wounds. It doesn't look as if penetration occurred, but Mark took several swabs and sent them up to see if there's semen present. Right now I'm praying that there isn't."
Elizabeth had never seen Peter Benton this close to tears in the time they had been together. It told her just how much John Carter meant to Peter and she wondered how it was that he could feel that way toward someone and not be friends with him. It was just another part of Benton's many mysteries that she didn't think she would ever understand. All she could do was to be there when he needed her.
When Kerry and Hugh McIntyre entered the lounge, the saw that Jenny Carter had arrived. To Kerry, the woman looked calm and in control, much as she had the day they had met. So why did Roland Carter claim that she had been so upset?
They sat down and Roland turned to his wife, "Jenny, this is Kerry Weaver, she's..."
"I know who she is. We've met."
"You didn't tell me that you knew who John was living with", he said.
"I had no idea where John was living until he called me this morning." Jenny turned her attention to Kerry, "How is he?"
"It doesn't appear as if any penetration occurred. I think that your husband and Adam arrived in the nick of time", Kerry replied. "As for his shoulder, he's been taken to have a CT scan to see if there's any nerve or muscle damage. If not, then a shoulder reduction can be done here in the E.R. If there is any nerve or muscle damage, then he might need surgery. Dr. Greene has ordered a CAT scan to see if there's any hemorrhaging in the brain. He definitely has a concussion and a black eye. He has several fractured ribs and once he's back from the CT scans, his other head wound will be stitched. As for his emotional state, Dr. McIntyre can answer your questions better than I."
Jenny looked from Kerry to the older man who had entered the room with her. "Are you a psychiatrist?"
"Yes. I'm on staff here."
"John's been seeing him for a few weeks now", Roland told her.
Jenny remembered John's questions regarding his "friend" who was being forced to see a psychiatrist at work. It was now obvious that the "friend" was fictitious. She nodded, "He was being forced to see you, correct?"
"Yes. I'm surprised that he told you about that."
"He didn't really tell me. He simply asked me if it was legal for the hospital to force a friend of his to see a psychiatrist."
Roland reached for his wife's hand as he said, "Honey, Dr. Weaver told me that John tried to kill himself in early November. That's why he's been seeing Dr. McIntyre."
"Was what we did to him his reason for the suicide attempt?" she asked, clasping Roland's hand tightly.
"I think that a lot of factors figured into his attempt, Mrs. Carter. I'm not at liberty to discuss what he's told me. However, I can reassure you on one thing: when we say that he 'tried' to kill himself, we mean that loosely. He did climb over the railing on the roof with the intent to jump, but he was not able to let go. John climbed back to safety. That's the important part."
Jenny shook her head, "No, Dr. McIntyre, the important part is that my son felt that much despair in the first place."
"If you'll excuse me, I'll go and see how they're doing with John." Kerry made her exit, thinking that the Carters needed to speak privately with John's doctor.
"She's a nice woman", Roland commented.
"She thinks very highly of your son. A lot of people here feel that way. He's gaining a reputation as an excellent trauma physician. You should feel very proud of him."
"We do", Roland assured him.
This was one of those times when Hugh McIntyre wished he wasn't bound to silence due to doctor/patient confidentiality. He wanted to ask them why they had never shown any pride in Carter's accomplishments. To tell them that the one person who had a low opinion of John Carter was John Carter himself. That he felt unloved and abandoned. But, he couldn't say any of that.
"I haven't yet examined John, but I did watch the physical exam. He still seems to be in a state of emotional shock. I plan to admit him to the psychiatric floor for observation."
"Are you afraid that he'll try to kill himself again?" Jenny asked.
"There is that possibility. I also have no idea how he will react when he snaps out of this. He could be hysterical or he could be suicidal. There is also the possibility that he won't snap out of this any time soon. Psychiatric evaluation will be better for him as opposed to putting him into a regular or private room. We do have regular nurses on our floor and a psychiatrist is on duty at all times."
"Would he be locked up?" Jenny asked, remembering that she had been put behind locked doors during the time she spent in the hospital in Paris.
"No. We have two separate wings on our floor. Since there is no reason for us to think that he would attempt to leave the hospital, he would be placed in a regular room, with direct access. No locked doors."
"I don't think I care very much for the idea of having my son on the psychiatric floor. Your arguments for doing so are good, but I think he would be more comfortable on a regular floor", Roland told him.
"You mean that your father would be more comfortable with John on a regular floor", Jenny snapped, pulling her hand free from his grasp. "Dr. McIntyre will treat John as he sees necessary."
"Jenny, you're distraught and not thinking clearly. This is a big shock to both of us. How will John's colleagues react when they hear that he's been placed under psychiatric evaluation?"
"I don't give a damn about his colleagues, Roland. There is no room for discussion here. You can either agree with me that John will be placed under evaluation as his doctor recommends, or you can leave. It's your choice", she stared at him firmly, angry that he would put pride ahead of what was best for their son.
Roland stared back, his mouth slightly agape as he realized that his wife was willing to kick him out of the room if he didn't go along with what she wanted. She hardly ever contradicted his decisions. Well, he supposed that he could agree with her on this. He could put off telling his father about John for a few days.
He nodded, "Okay, you win."
"No, Roland. Our son is the one who wins."
The door opened and Roland was more than surprised to see his father and mother enter.
"We came as fast as we could. How is John?" Millicent asked.
"I want to know exactly what happened, Roland", his father demanded.
"I called your parents right after you called me", Jenny explained to him. "I didn't see any reason why they shouldn't know that John was hurt."
As much as he wanted to stay and watch this scene unfold, McIntyre knew that he should go and see if he could examine Carter now. Having the chance to observe the four main people in John Carter's life was priceless, but he knew that his patient's well-being came first. He slipped out, unnoticed by the quartet.
"Yes, Roland. What did happen? You didn't give me many details on the phone", Jenny said.
As Roland drew a deep breath to begin his narrative, the door opened again. This time it was Adam Weaver who stuck his head into the room.
"Mr. Carter, I thought you might like to know that the police are here and they would like to ask both of us some questions. They also want to speak with John, but Kerry told them in no uncertain terms that that just isn't going to happen any time soon."
"Thanks, Adam. Why don't the three of you go to the cafeteria for some coffee while I deal with the police."
"Why are the police involved?" his father wanted to know.
Roland looked over at his wife. It was obvious that she hadn't told them that John had been sexually assaulted.
"I'll tell you everything I know as soon as I'm done with the police, father."
"I suppose I have no choice but to stay here then. All I want is to find out what happened to my grandson."
"The police won't allow you to stay. You are not involved in this. Just go and get some damn coffee, okay? Take my wife to the cafeteria and keep her company. Is that really asking too much of you?" he snapped.
Adam cleared his throat, "Should I have them come in here?"
"That would be best, Adam."
Adam closed the door and went to let the police know that he and Mr. Carter were ready to speak with them.
Millicent stood, "Come along, dear. I know where the cafeteria is located."
Jenny leaned over and quickly hugged her husband. "Everything will be all right, Roland. You just have to keep faith that it will work out."
"I'll try."
She followed his parents out the door. Not long after they exited, Adam brought the police officers in and the second part of the deception began.
In his mind, Carter was keeping track of the lights on the ceiling. When he was taking a patient for x-rays or a CAT scan, he never paid attention to the ceiling. Two lights. No light. Three lights. No light. Over and over again. Wait, here was a break in the pattern. Two 'no lights' in a row. Burned out. A small voice in the back of his head said that he should report that to maintenance before the lack of adequate lighting caused someone to get hurt. Shut up! He screamed back at that voice. There had been plenty of light in the apartment, but he had been hurt. No safety in the light. None at all. No safety anywhere. He used to feel safe here in the hospital. Not anymore. Dan Litvak wandered these same halls. He hurt him once. He would hurt him again. And again. He would never be safe again.
He wanted to yell at Malik and Lydia, to tell them to stop telling him that he was okay now and safe. Even Mark was telling him that. Mark Greene, of all people, should know better. There wasn't any such thing as safe. He blinked hard, did he lose count of the lights? Well, he could start again. One light. No light. Two lights. No light. They were taking him to a regular exam room now. Good. He didn't like the bright lights of the trauma room shining down in his face. This was much better. Not as good as the dark would be. He heard Mark's voice, "On my count. One, two, three." and he was on the table. There was a new voice in the room. He knew that voice. Hugh McIntyre. He was talking to Mark about his CAT scans. He would need surgery for his shoulder, but they could safely do a reduction now. From the corner of his eye he could see Benton preparing to start suturing. Did he need stitches? No hemorrhage on the brain. Just a concussion. A pounding ache inside his skull. Pound, pound, pound, bounce his head on the ground. He barely noticed as a needle pierced the skin of his shoulder. Why would they need to do that? Oh, God. They're going to go the reduction now. No. Lucy should do it. She knew how. He had told her how. Thank you Lord, for not letting Lucy be here. It was bad enough that Kerry had been here. Was still here. Watching while Mark examined him. Carol watching. Malik watching. Mark touching him...there. He tensed as Mark and McIntyre set up the counter traction, then Mark began to pull on his arm. Just pull it back until it pops. Just like that. Pop it in. Pop it out. It really was surprising how easily it had popped back out. He had read once where Houdini was able to dislocate his shoulders at will, that's how he got out of some of his bonds. Pop it out. Pop it back in. More voices. Were they inviting the entire hospital into the exam room? Anspaugh, sounding concerned and tired. A voice he didn't know. Pretty voice though. Pretty lady. Not that it mattered now. No woman would ever want him now. What else was new? Oh, a new immobilizer for his shoulder. Now he had the beginnings of a collection. He felt a slight sting in his forehead and knew that Benton was numbing his skin so he wouldn't feel the needle pierce his skin. Funny how easily it broke open. Leaving nothing but red behind. He wished they would stop talking to him. Why couldn't they just leave the room and cut out the lights? Leave him alone. He was used to being alone. He could handle being alone. He didn't think he could handle all these people crowding in here. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep they would go away. He closed his eyes, centering his concentration on something besides the voices in his room. His heart beat. Steady and strong. Just like the pounding in his head. They were beating in time together. Count the beats. Check his heart rate. He could do that.
As Carter's eyes closed, Hugh McIntyre stepped away from the bed. He walked over to the doorway where Mark was still speaking with Anspaugh and Amanda Lee. One of the nurses, the one named Carol, was still by the bed assisting Benton, but other than that, the room was empty.
"Your diagnosis doctor?" Anspaugh asked.
"I think that he's aware of what's going on around him. His eyes were following voices and that's a good sign. But, he wouldn't respond to any stimuli. He barely flinched when we did the shoulder reduction."
"Well, the muscle relaxer helped with that. I wish I could give him something for the pain, but not with the concussion", Mark said.
"Is he asleep?" Amanda Lee asked McIntyre.
"I don't think so. He's not breathing as if he's asleep. I think he's just trying to shut us all out. I know that sounds bad, but it does show me that he is aware of what's going on around him, and that is good. I would like to have his parents come in to see him before he's moved upstairs."
"You're putting him on the psychiatric floor?" Anspaugh asked.
"Yes."
"That's probably for the best I suppose. Are any test results back yet, Mark?", he asked.
"Yes. The H.I.V. and S.T.D. tests were negative, although I wasn't expecting any other result. There was no semen or other fluids present in the anal swab." Mark looked away from the others, "I guess that is one thing to be grateful about. There were also traces of morphine, but I was informed that he had taken pain medication earlier." What Mark didn't want to mention was the relatively high amount of morphine still in Carter's system. He wanted to know who had prescribed the medication and how much had been prescribed.
Kerry approached them from the direction of the admit desk.
"Randi informed me that she called upstairs to Litvak's office."
"Kerry, this isn't the time or place to bring that up", Mark warned.
"On the contrary. It is the exact time and place to bring this up, Mark. Litvak left work early this afternoon."
"Kerry, am I reading this correctly? You suspect Dan Litvak of attacking John Carter?" Anspaugh asked, frowning.
"Yes, I do."
"Do you have any concrete reasons to suspect him of such a thing?" he looked from Kerry to Mark, not missing the look they exchanged at his question. "Well?"
"Nothing concrete. No. Just a bad feeling, Don. A very bad feeling."
"Have you mentioned this to the police?" Lee asked.
"No. Carter hasn't said anything, has he?"
"He hasn't said a thing", McIntyre informed her.
Carol approached him, "Should I bring his parents in now?"
"That would be a good idea. Thank you."
Carol gave him a brief, yet sad smile and the people in the doorway stood aside to let her pass.
"I see that a lot of the staff here are off duty", Lee said.
"Yeah. Carol's known Carter for a long time. We all have. Excuse me, but I want to let his parents know about the test results before they go in." Mark followed Carol down the hall.
"What about Litvak?" Kerry asked.
"Well, I really wish you had some concrete reason to suspect him. However, I share your concerns. I also have a bad feeling where he's concerned. I suppose that I could page him. See how fast he responds and find out where he's been. Didn't the suspect run away?"
"That's what Mr. Carter and my brother told me. They were more concerned with helping Carter than they were about making sure his attacker was secured", Kerry replied.
"I'll have the clerk page him", Lee walked away.
"Kerry, Dr. McIntyre, I would appreciate it very much if you keep me apprised of Dr. Carter's condition."
"Of course, Don", Kerry assured him. McIntyre nodded.
Carol, with four Carters in tow, approached the room. Anspaugh immediately introduced himself, assuring Roland and Jenny that the best wishes of the entire staff were with them and their son. He also told them that Carter was a highly valued member of the staff, then he left to see if Litvak would return the page.
"John's right in here", Carol told Jenny.
"Thank you", Jenny looked at McIntyre, "Dr. Greene told us about the test results, but how is he emotionally?"
"From what I can tell, he's aware of his surroundings, but he isn't responding to anyone or anything. We'll be moving him upstairs shortly. You and Mr. Carter should go in now to see him."
Roland and Jenny went on into the room, but McIntyre blocked the doorway when the older Carters tried to follow them. Mr. Carter glared at McIntyre as the doctor explained, "I only gave permission for his parents to see him right now, sir. I'm sorry."
"You can't keep me from seeing my grandson."
"Yes, I can, Mr. Carter. As his doctor, I can restrict his visitors."
"I thought that Mark Greene was his physician", the man imperiously replied.
"He is. I'm John's psychiatrist."
Mr. Carter made a rude noise at hearing that information. Millicent frowned and took him by the arm. "We can wait in the lounge, dear."
He shook his arm free, "Nonsense! I will not leave here until I see John!"
"Mr. Carter, if you make any attempt to enter that room, I will have you forcibly removed from the premises."
"Don't threaten me. I'll have you tied up in a law suit for years until you are completely ruined."
"Carol, would you please call security for me?"
Carol felt that there was enough tension in the E.R. without adding a physical confrontation to the mix. "I have an idea. Mr. Carter, you want to see John, but Dr. McIntyre doesn't want you in the room. However, you can see him from the doorway. I'm sure that if you gave your word that you wouldn't actually enter the room, Dr. McIntyre would agree to that compromise."
The two men thought about that for a moment, then simultaneously nodded. McIntyre stepped away from the doorway and the elder Mr. Carter stepped forward to see his grandson. A bandaged covered John's head wound, and his injured eye was beginning to change color and was swollen shut. His grandson looked pale. Almost as pale as Chase had looked after his overdose. He was unable to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine as he realized that he was afraid of losing John in any way. They had lost Bobby forever. Chase was a mere shell of his former self. Now there was the chance that John would be forever scarred by this attack. He personally had no need for the psychiatric field, but if psychiatric help was what John needed to be whole again, then he would damn well make sure he had the best possible care. He nodded, then turned to his wife, who had come up to his side. There were tears in Millicent's eyes and he realized that there were tears in his own eyes as well.
He gave his wife a hug, then led her away from the room, back to the lounge. Along the way he prayed for God to help John heal. He even promised Him that if he made John all right, then he would cease to ask for John to give up medicine and join his company. There would be no more pressure. No more accusations. It was time for him to accept what so many had been telling him tonight: that John Carter was a damn fine physician and a good person.
McIntyre walked into the exam room. Jenny Carter was on one side of the bed while Roland Carter stood across from her. Their hands were clasped in the air above Carter's body and each one was holding one of Carter's hands. No one was speaking. "I'm sorry, but I need to ask you to leave now. We really should get him upstairs."
Jenny nodded, "I understand. Can we see him tomorrow?"
"Of course. Just ignore the posted visiting hours. I would like for you to come by my office first though."
"We will", Roland assured him.
"You should go home and get some rest. Physically, John is going to be all right."
"I'm not so worried about the physical part, Dr. McIntyre. I'm more worried about his wounded spirit. I know how easily it can be damaged. I also know that no one else can heal his spirit but him. We can only help."
"Well, Mrs. Carter, you can't help him much if you're in Paris."
"No, we can't, can we?" she looked up at her husband.
"I can rearrange my schedule so that we can stay here for as long as we're needed", Roland told her.
"There's no 'we' about it, Roland. I will stay here, with or without you." She let go of his hand, kissed her son gently on his forehead and left the room.
Roland stood there, confused and embarrassed by his wife's words and actions. She wasn't acting like herself lately. He was beginning to fear that she was under too much stress. He couldn't face the danger of losing her. He had come so close to losing her after Bobby died. He wouldn't risk that again. Without her, he was nothing. He looked down at his sleeping son, one of the physical manifestations of the union of their souls. While Bobby had looked like him, and Barbara looked like a combination of the two of them, John looked like his mother. They even had the same eyes. Eyes that could light up the entire world one minute and cut through to your very soul the next. It was their Cherokee heritage, those fathomless pools of dark brown. The same bleakness that had been in Jenny's eyes after Bobby died had also been in John's eyes earlier and Roland was scared to his very core that he was going to lose his son. Maybe lose both of them.
"Mr. Carter? We need to move him upstairs now", McIntyre gently reminded him.
Roland nodded. He carefully put his son's hand down on the blanket, then left the room. In the hallway, his eyes locked with Kerry Weaver's. He knew that she wanted to know what had happened with the police. "Dr. Weaver, I'd like to ride back to the apartment with you and your brother since I left my car there."
"That's fine with me, Mr. Carter. I'm ready to leave whenever you are."
"Let me tell my wife what I'm doing and then I'll be ready to go."
"That's fine", Kerry nodded. "I'll go and find Adam."
"Kerry, I saw your brother at the desk. He's talking with Randi", Carol informed her.
"Thanks, Carol. I really do appreciate the fact that you stayed on."
"I did it for Carter. Everyone did."
"I know."
"Well, our family certainly is grateful that all of you think so highly of John. It means a lot to us", Roland said.
"Carter means a lot to us."
"Carol?" Hugh walked over to her, "Would you tell Malik that I'm ready to take John upstairs? He volunteered to help me move him."
"Of course."
The three of them walked away. As they approached the admit desk, Roland veered off to go to the lounge. Malik was also at the desk and he quickly left when Carol told him that McIntyre needed his help. Carol noticed that Doug and Mark were over in chairs, talking quietly, so she headed over there.
"Adam? Mr. Carter wants to ride back with us so he can pick up his car. He should be ready to go soon", Kerry told him.
"No problem." Adam flashed a smile at his sister, then turned his attention back to Randi. "Thanks for taking the time to talk."
Randi smiled at him. The truth was that Adam Weaver had done most of the listening while she rambled on about Carter. "I think I should be the one to thank you."
"I'm just sorry that something like this had to happen to someone that all of you obviously care so much about."
"And we're just glad that you stopped the attack before it went too far."
Guilt swept through Adam as he thought of how he had left Carter alone in the apartment. Maybe if he would have suggested ordering a pizza, none of this would have happened. Hell, there was no 'maybe' about it. It would not have happened because he would have been there to prevent it.
"Mr. Carter is ready. I'll see you tomorrow, Randi", Kerry said as Roland headed her way. The other Carters left through the ambulance bay doors.
"Let's go", Roland said.
The three of them left, each one wondering if the problem of Litvak's dead body had been taken care of yet.
Even though his eyes were closed, Carter could still tell when they passed under lights. Move him here, move him there. Riding in an elevator with his eyes closed was different. A new hallway. Ah, we might just be making progress. A darkened room. A new bed. No bright lights here. The sound of the gurney leaving the room. The muffled thump as the door closed. He opened his eyes. Damn. McIntyre was there. Wanting to talk. Wanting him to talk. All that man thought about was talking. Talk about this. Talk about that. How do you feel, John? What are you thinking about, John? Do you wish you were dead, John? Go away.
McIntyre smiled reassuringly at him. "I'll leave. But, I will be back in the morning. If you need anything, just push the call button. It's right here."
He had spoken out loud and McIntyre had heard him. He would have to be more careful. He watched as McIntyre looped the call button line around the bed's railing, letting it dangle within reach of his hand. Right. Like there was
anyone he wanted to call.
"Try to get some sleep, John", McIntyre said as he opened the door. Then he was gone.
Alone at last. No nurses. No parents. No doctors talking about him as if he wasn't there. He looked around the room in the dim light. No clock. Strange. All the rooms had clocks. Why didn't his room have a clock? Didn't he deserve to know what time it was? Guess not. One television hanging from the wall. Bathroom. Sink. No telephone. Guess he didn't rate one of those either. Didn't matter. There was no one he wanted to talk to. Sensation was beginning to return to him. His eye hurt. His head hurt. His shoulder was beginning to throb. His right arm felt tender where Litvak had knelt on it. His back hurt, but he wasn't sure if that was from his previous bruising or from where Litvak had knocked him against the floor. Pound, pound, pound. He was still out there somewhere. Probably home, getting ready for bed so he could be to work bright and early in the morning. Already planning on how he would attack him again. All he had to do was say his name out loud. It wasn't a difficult name to pronounce. Litvak. Two syllables. Litvak. Say it out loud, that little voice told him. Put the bastard in jail. Maybe Shrike will be there and he'll tear him apart. Maybe no one would believe him. After all, it was all in his head, wasn't it? The leers, the subtle insinuations and come-ons. The touching was all accidental. Not this time, that voice said. This was no accident. Say his name out loud. "Litvak," he whispered to the room. Then louder, "Litvak." There's no one here to listen. He must be stopped, the voice said. Wait for him in his office. Stop him before he can hurt you again. "He'll hurt me again", he whispered. Not if you surprise him. He won't be expecting you to be in his office. You can go there later, when there aren't so many people around. No one will see you. Take a scalpel with you. Stop him. "Yes", he nodded, "I'll stop him. Dan Litvak will not hurt me again." Rest now. You'll have to stay up the rest of the night if you want to surprise him in the morning. "I'll rest. I'll take care of Litvak later."
Carter closed his eyes to rest, the voice in his head quiet for now.
When McIntyre stepped out into the hallway, he was surprised to see Mark Greene standing there.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked him.
"You could say that", Mark frowned. He started to say something else, then simply handed a lab report to McIntyre.
McIntyre read it over twice, then looked up at Mark.
"You didn't mention this downstairs."
"I didn't put it in his file. I don't know if I can explain why to you, Dr. McIntyre. From the very first day I met Carter, I've felt the need to protect him. I've been his mentor when his teacher failed him; I've guided him. I've watched him grow into a physician capable of handling just about any trauma you can throw at him. However, I don't know if he can handle knowing that anyone who looked in his file would know about this."
McIntyre looked down at the lab report again. "Well, I'm glad you let me know about it, Dr. Greene."
"I had suspected this when I took the swabs and noticed the bruising at the back of his throat. I suppose that his attacker was unable to recover sufficiently to...ah..." Mark found himself unable to put into words the fact that Carter had been forced to perform oral sex on his attacker. Mark thought of how easily it would have been for his own assaulter in the men's room to have accomplished the same thing.
"It's bad enough as is, Dr. Greene. Do you want the lab report back?", McIntyre felt he should give him one more chance to put the report in Carter's file.
Mark shook his head, "As far as I'm concerned, you can burn it."
McIntyre nodded, then folded it into fourths and shoved it into his pocket. He could dispose of it at home.
"I spoke with ortho and they have him scheduled for arthroscopic surgery in three weeks. Did you get him settled in all right?"
McIntyre nodded, "Yes. He even spoke to me. I think it was an accident, but right now, I'll take anything I can get from him, even if all he did was tell me to 'go away'. Between the shock, stress and concussion, he's bound to be disoriented and confused for a short time."
"I suppose we should be thankful that there was no hemorrhaging of the brain."
"Yes, thank God for little favors."
When Kerry, Adam and Roland Carter arrived at her apartment, she was relieved to discover that her door was now locked. A close inspection of the apartment turned up not a single sign that a dead body had been there, nor a single drop of John's blood left to reveal where he had been attacked. Roland Carter had left and Kerry had wearily sank onto the couch.
"Hey, how about some cocoa?" Adam asked her. "It might help you relax."
"That would be nice, but I really don't think anything will help me relax right now."
"Do you want to talk about it?" he sat down on the couch beside her.
"Not really. At least not now. This just brought back too many memories, Adam."
He noticed the way she was looking around the apartment, probably trying to figure out where it was that the attack had occurred. He wasn't sure if he should tell her. It was difficult enough to think about the fact that sitting here on the couch put him mere feet from the scene of the attack and the spot where Litvak had died.
"I noticed that the tub was scrubbed clean. Why don't you get a hot shower while I fix the cocoa?"
"I don't know if I can set foot in that tub again, Adam."
"You don't have much choice, sis."
"No, I suppose I don't." She got to her feet and headed down the hall, determined to take a shower. Determination could help a person accomplish quite a bit.
Adam went to the kitchen, studiously avoiding the spot where Carter had been attacked. He pulled out the ingredients for the cocoa and a pot and began to prepare it. He didn't want to think about how Kerry was feeling right now. He knew that she had to be taking this very hard. That the memories were all bad ones.
He remembered back to that time when he was still a little boy and she was sixteen. She was beautiful and kind. Graceful. She took dance lessons and ran on the track team at school. Until the night some bastard caught her out alone. She had been raped, then thrown over an embankment. Her leg had been severely damaged and the doctors even discussed amputation as an option. One which his parents had vetoed. She was left with a future of pain and scars from repeated surgeries. Kerry later told him how she had almost given up hope. To her, when her leg was shattered, her dreams were also shattered as well. As a child, she had been ill a lot, but as she reached her teens, her health improved. She knew she wanted to be a dancer. Adam remembered watching her dance; her movements so smooth and flowing. His sister always at one with the music. Never again. The thing that had turned her around had been something she overheard her father say when her mother had been arguing for Kerry to have plastic surgery to reduce the scarring. He had been against it, not seeing why they should worry about something like that. Their mother had told him that it would help Kerry's self-esteem and make her feel more attractive, to which he had coldly replied, "It doesn't matter how attractive Kerry looks. No decent man will want her now." That had made her angry. How could her father reduce her life, her essence, as to whether or not she married? She could have a wonderful and successful life without needing a husband. She threw herself into her studies, decided on a medical career and with sheer determination ended up being the top student in her high school graduating class. She excelled in college, never slacking off. Always pushing herself to do more than anyone else, knowing that she would have to be the best at whatever she did so that she could prove her disability didn't matter.
He kept the cocoa hot until she returned and he brought it out to the living room.
"You know, I've been house-hunting", she said.
"Oh? You didn't mention that before."
"Well, I still have a few months left on the lease here. There were a few houses that I liked. I think I'll call my realtor and see if any of them are still available. I don't think I want to stay here anymore."
"I don't blame you, sis. Maybe the landlord will let you out of the lease considering the circumstances."
"Maybe. I should probably pack up some things for John. Why are you grinning at me like that?"
"You called him John again. At the hospital, it was 'Carter'. Here it's 'John'. Can't you call him by his name at work?"
"Yes, but I just never have. He calls me 'Dr. Weaver' at work, and 'Kerry' here, so it all works out."
"No one at the hospital knows that he lives with you, do they?"
"Just a handful of people. Dr. Anspaugh, he's the Chief of Staff. Hugh McIntyre, Mark Greene, Doug Ross. I suppose that Ross' fiancée, Carol Hathaway, knows as well."
"Well, I guess you can add both of his parents to that list now. It was odd the way they both came by, but at different times."
"John's family is odd."
"His Dad is pretty cool. He didn't blink when the police mentioned how convenient it was that the attacker left his pants by the door so that he could grab them and run."
"What did Roland say to that?"
"He told him that he didn't really notice if the man's pants were off or just down. The police officer was more than a little ticked off that they weren't called to come here."
"That's just too bad for them, isn't it?" Kerry shook her head, "You know, John didn't like Dan Litvak. The man had made advances toward him before. Nothing that John ever made any complaint about. But, some of us at work noticed what had happened. I should have spoken to him about it. Maybe this could have been prevented. Adam, I just don't understand why he let him in the door."
"Kerry, when I left to go get dinner, John was still a little groggy from the pain medication. He might not have even thought to check who it was before opening the door. He probably thought it was me."
"Maybe."
"I've been kicking myself for going out. If I would have stayed here and cooked something or ordered something in, then this wouldn't have happened."
"Baby, it isn't your fault. You had no idea of what had been going on."
"I would have noticed any tension when Litvak came in, and I certainly wouldn't have allowed him to remain if John wanted him to leave."
Kerry leaned her head against Adam's shoulder. "I think that a lot of us are feeling more than our fair share of guilt tonight, Adam."
"Probably. But, I know that I deserve to feel mine."
"So do a lot of us. Please don't beat yourself up about this. You're just stuck in the middle of a bad situation that is not of your making."
Adam put his cup on the side table, not bothering to reply. He knew that he was guilty, even if his sister refused to acknowledge the fact. Even though he didn't know John Carter, he definitely knew that he had let him down.
Well rested, Lucy Knight eagerly stepped through the doors of the Emergency Room. She wondered if Carter was going to be in or if he had decided to stay home and recuperate. She was still amazed that he had wanted to work after injuring himself.
"Good evening, Randi", she cheerfully greeted the clerk.
Randi looked up at the clock, it was only eleven. Those who had come on at six were dreading having to tell the midnight crew the news about John Carter. Dr. Greene had decided to pull a double shift, partly because he wanted to make sure the E.R. was adequately covered and partly because he wanted to be there so the staff had someone to talk with.
"You're early", Randi said.
"I wanted to get a head start. Do you know yet if Dr. Carter is going to be working tonight?"
"No, he won't be here tonight, Lucy. Here comes Dr. Greene now. I suppose that you'll be working with him tonight", Randi breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't going to be the one to tell Lucy about Carter. Even though the duo had been having difficulties adjusting to one another, their previous shift together had run smoothly. Lucy had been very attentive to whatever Carter had to say and he had actually taken the time to listen to her as well. Randi didn't think that Lucy was going to take the news very well.
"Lucy, you're here early." Mark exclaimed as he tried to catch Randi's eyes to see if Randi had told her anything about Carter. Randi shook her head.
"Randi was just telling me that I would most likely be working with you tonight since Dr. Carter won't be in. I guess he still isn't feeling up to par, huh?"
"You might say that, Lucy."
The sound of breaking glass from the lounge caught the trio's attention.
"What was that?" Lucy asked.
"I think that was a coffee pot as opposed to a coffee cup", Randi replied.
"So that would make it the what? Third or fourth pot that Doyle has broken tonight?"
"Third. She's tied now with Lydia, who was in the lead with three broken cups."
"What is going on here? Shouldn't someone go in there to see if Dr. Doyle is okay?"
"She's just letting off some steam, Lucy. Come with me. There's something I need to tell you", Mark indicated that he wanted Lucy to precede him into the lounge.
Lucy went in, not sure what kind of a mess she would find. Sure enough, Maggie Doyle was in there, picking up pieces of a broken coffee pot. Lucy found an empty locker and put her coat and bag away.
"Do you need any help with that?" she asked.
"I'm fine." Doyle didn't look up from the glass. "I have everything under control now." She sounded angry.
"I see that this one was empty", Mark commented.
"It's our last one."
"Go see if you can steal one from another department then. Preferably a metal one this time."
"Right."
When Maggie Doyle stood to throw away the remains of the pot, Lucy could see that she was upset. Randi and Dr. Greene also seemed a little edgy. She waited until Doyle had left the lounge before saying anything to Dr. Greene.
"What's going on around here tonight? Lydia and Dr. Doyle are destroying cups and coffee pots. You and Randi are acting strange. What's wrong?"
"Lucy, you might want to give some thought to the idea of asking to be assigned to another resident for the duration of your rotation."
"I don't understand. Dr. Carter and I are working out our differences. Has he asked to have me reassigned?"
"Right now he's not asking anything of anybody, Lucy. The truth is that I have no idea when Carter will be returning to work."
"Why? What's going on?"
"Earlier this evening, Carter was assaulted in his apartment."
Lucy felt a cold chill as she looked into Greene's eyes, seeing the sadness there. "You mean 'assaulted' as in beaten?"
"That, too. Luckily, the assault was interrupted before it had progressed too far."
"You're telling me that someone tried to rape Dr. Carter?"
"Yes."
"Oh, God!" She stood and began to pace, her eyes beginning to tear. "Why? Why would someone want to hurt him that way? He's a good person."
"Lucy, those are questions that a lot of people have been asking themselves tonight. There are no easy answers. We don't even know who did it. The attacker fled the scene."
"I have to see John. Where is he?"
"He's upstairs, but you can't see him."
"I need to see him, Dr. Greene. I need to see that he's not hurt."
Mark was a little surprised by her outburst. It had not been that many days ago that Carter and Lucy were sitting in this very room yelling at each other. Something had defintely changed between them.
"Lucy, sit down and try to calm yourself. Carter suffered several injuries. A fractured orbital of his left eye, several fractured ribs, contusions, a severe concussion. Another anterior dislocation of his left shoulder that will require surgery. Right now, we're mostly worried about the emotional damage. He was examined by Dr. McIntyre, who is one of the staff psychiatrists. Carter is aware of what's going on around him, but he will not respond to stimuli, including pain. He won't talk to anyone or look directly at anyone. For you to see him like that, well, it would upset him only further. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
She nodded, "Yes, I see your meaning. I guess I would feel the same way if someone had raped or tried to rape me. How horrible it must have been for him to have to come here and have his friends see him like that."
"I'm sure it was rough for him. I was the one who did the exam. Still, I feel it was better for him to have been here with people who care about him and not at one of the other hospitals."
Randi poked her head through the door, "Sorry to interrupt, but we have a two car MVA coming in. Multiple traumas."
"Come on, Lucy. Randi, is Doyle back yet?"
"Haven't seen her."
"Page her."
"Already done."
Doyle was back to the E.R. and ready to work by the time the ambulances arrived. The traumas kept the current, departing and arriving shifts busy until twelve thirty. By then, the incoming shift had been informed of the situation.
"Dr. Greene, telephone for you." Randi held the receiver out to him, "It's the attending on the psychiatric floor."
Everyone became silent as Mark answered the phone. When he closed his eyes and murmured "Dear God." they suspected the worst. "We will. Yes, we'll call you." Mark hung up and faced the staff.
"Carter has disappeared from his room. Security has been called and are supposedly looking for him here in the hospital. They would appreciate it if we could check around down here as the attending up there feels that Carter may be thinking that he should be at work now."
"We can do that." Doyle and the others went to search the E.R.
"Maybe he went back to his apartment?" Lucy wondered.
"I doubt it. His roommate would have called to let us know", Mark replied.
"Is it okay for me to check the roof?" Lucy asked.
"I was going to check up there", Mark replied, remembering how he had found Carter up there not so very long ago. Only this time, if he was there, he might not be huddled against the railing, but on the other side of it.
"Why don't you stay down here with Randi in case he should show up here?"
"Okay", Lucy nodded and watched him walk away. She wanted to be able to do something to help John. Anything.
"He'll be okay, Lucy. Our Dr. Carter is a survivor."
"I hope so, Randi. I really do hope so."
Upstairs in Carter's room, Roland Carter sat in a chair wanting so much to cry. After leaving Kerry Weaver's apartment, he had returned to the hospital, wanting to be near his son. Needing to be there to comfort him. He had found John's room easily enough and was relieved to see that John was sleeping. He didn't know when it was that he fell asleep, but when he awoke, he had found himself totally alone in the room. He had immediately checked the small bathroom, but John wasn't in there. Fighting down his fear, Roland had gone to the desk to let the nurses know that John was gone. Of course, they didn't believe him until they had looked in the room and bathroom as well. Then they had called the attending. It didn't take long for the entire floor to be busy looking for John. It also didn't take long for them to discover that John was nowhere to be found on the Psychiatric Floor. So security had been called. If he wasn't feeling so scared for his son, Roland might have laughed as security, like the nurses, had to check the room and bathroom to see if John was really missing.
Roland knew he had to get himself together before phoning home. Jenny would want to be here. Knowing his wife, she would want to lead the search. How could he tell her that John had slipped out of the room while he slept in a chair that was no more than four feet away from the bed? Wasn't he supposed to be keeping an eye on John? Roland shook his head, angry with himself. "Some protector you are, Roland Carter. You couldn't prevent John from being assaulted and you couldn't keep him in his hospital bed." He dried his eyes, then pulled out his cell phone and dialed his home number, knowing that he would deserve any harsh words Jenny might have for him.
By three in the morning, security had given up on finding the missing patient inside the hospital. The police were then notified. His friends and parents, who had been merely angry and frustrated over his attack were now worried about him as well. They knew he was dressed in only a hospital gown and it wasn't warm outside. How far could someone walk dressed that way and not be noticed? No one wanted to consider the alternative; that Carter had found a secluded spot in which to die. That was a possibility that scared them all to the bone.