Gap-Filler: "Family Matters"

By: Lori (SixteenOzs)

DISCLAIMER: "ER," the characters and situations depicted within are the property of Warner Brothers Television, Amblin Entertainment, Constant c Productions, NBC, etc. They are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. The story presented here is written solely for entertainment purposes, and the author is not making a profit.

Please do not post or redistribute without the disclaimer above, or without the consent of the author.

Feedback is welcome. Please send all questions, comments or criticisms to SixteenOzs02@yahoo.com

SUMMARY: Continuation of the episode "Family Matters"

RATING: PG

Elizabeth sighed as she unlocked the door of her apartment. All she wanted to do was forget that this day ever happened. Sitting her coat and bag by the door, she stepped into the empty living room, then looked around and grimaced. She'd forgotten just how much she hated coming home to an empty apartment. She was so used to Mark always being there.

"You'd better be careful, Corday," she warned herself as she walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine. "It's sounding like you're dangerously close to needing him."

"But is that really such a bad thing?" she wondered.

She was still pondering that question as she picked up the phone and continued back to the bathroom. Sitting the phone and the wine glass next to the tub, she turned on the water and added a liberal amount of bubble bath.

Walking into the bedroom, she stepped out of her shoes and pulled her turtleneck over her head as she went back into the bathroom. After dropping the turtleneck into the hamper, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, sliding the straps down her shoulders. She stepped out of the black pants she was wearing, then pushed her panties over her hips to the floor. Dropping the rest of her clothes into the hamper, she turned off the tap then sank into the tub.

The water came up to her shoulders as she reached for the wine glass. After taking a sip, she rested her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes. "What the hell was I thinking?" she asked herself.

She'd almost killed Dean Rollins, and she enjoyed the way it felt to have that much control over his pathetic life.

"For crying out loud, Elizabeth! You're a doctor! You're supposed to be above that! You took an oath to save lives. Even Rollins knew that."

The phone rang, startling her introspection. She stared at the handset next to the tub, but she didn't move to answer. She waited until the answering machine in the living room picked up. She heard her own voice. "I'm unable to come to the telephone at the moment, but if you leave a message, I will return your call as soon as possible. Thank you."

After the tone, she smiled at the familiar voice. "Hi. It's me. I just wanted to let you know that I'm here in San Diego, safe and sound. How was your day? I'm guessing you haven't gotten home yet. I'm at a hotel with Dad. Give me a call when you get in, the number here is-"

"Hey, I'm here," she said as she picked up the phone.

"Screening your calls?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "I didn't want to deal with the hospital tonight."

"Rough day?" he wondered.

"You could say that," she said with a rueful laugh.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked in a concerned tone.

"Not right now," she said, shaking her head. "Tell me about your day. How's your father?"

"We're at a hotel right now, since the water and electricity have been turned off at the house," he explained. "Dad's already asleep, so I'm sitting here on the floor in the bathroom with the phone."

She chuckled. "I'm in the bathroom, too. The tub actually, covered in bubbles from neck to toe."

"Mmm," he said with a grin. "Wish I were there."

"So do I," she smiled. "Did you end up getting your barbecue tonight, without freezing your butt off?"

"No. Pizza and beer in the empty living room," he laughed. "How about you?"

"I just stopped at Doc's on my way out for some soup and a sandwich," she replied.

"That doesn't sound like much fun," he said sympathetically.

"Did you work things out with your father?" she wondered.

"Yeah, you're going to love this one," he laughed ruefully.

"That bad?" she asked suspiciously.

"He's moving to Chicago with me," he explained dejectedly.

She chuckled. "So, what exactly does this mean for your sanity?"

"I haven't figured that out yet," he admitted, "but that's what I've got you for."

"Yeah," she grinned, "you can always come over here to escape when things get too crazy."

"Thank you," he said softly.

"You're welcome," she replied. "Dare I ask what prompted this?"

"He wasn't happy at the nursing home, and he really shouldn't be staying alone. This was the best I could come up with," he explained.

"I thought it was a 'retirement community?'" she teased.

"Don't you start with me, too," he laughed. After a moment, he turned serious and said, "I've noticed you've carefully avoided telling me anything about your day. What's up?"

She sighed. Even half a continent away, he still knew her better than almost anyone she'd ever met. "Rollins," she answered in a whisper.

"What happened?" he asked quickly. "Did he try to hurt you?"

She didn't answer immediately. How was she supposed to tell him this, when she wasn't even sure she'd come to terms with it herself? She sighed. She knew she needed to talk to someone, and there was no one else she felt as comfortable with.

"Elizabeth?" he prompted softly.

"I almost killed Dean Rollins today," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What happened?" he asked again, his voice filled with concern.

"Remember this morning, when Romano said he needed to talk to me as soon as we got to the hospital?" she wondered.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"The detective investigating Rollins was upstairs. They found the a car of a girl who's been missing for about six weeks, and his fingerprints were all over it. Since I've established a 'relationship' with him, they wanted me to ask him where the girl's body was," she explained quietly.

"How could they ask you to do that?" he questioned in disbelief.

"He seems to have developed some sort of attachment to me, ever since I brought him in on the chopper. I hate it, but there's not much I can do. The girl's mother and her sister were there. There was no way I could tell them that I wouldn't help find her body," she said with a heavy sigh.

"So did he tell you?" Mark wondered.

"Not immediately," she said with a sigh. "The first time I asked him, he said he wanted a new doctor, which was fine with me. That's when Romano introduced me to her family. I went back, and that time, Rollins said he'd only tell her sister. So I went in with the sister. The sick bastard started talking about how he wished he'd been able to kill her instead."

"He should be put in a straight-jacket and locked in a small dark room, away from humanity, for the rest of his life," Mark commented in disgust.

"I know," Elizabeth agreed quietly.

He waited a few moments for her to continue. When she didn't, he prompted, "But that's not all that happened, is it?"

"No," she said softly. "I went back in to see him later. He said the games were no longer fun, he wished I'd let him die that first day on the road."

"I don't believe it," Mark said in disbelief. "I actually agree with him on something."

"He said he wanted to die," Elizabeth continued. "I got a bottle of morphine, put about a hundred milligrams into a syringe and injected it into his IV."

There was a long pause before he asked, "How much did you inject?"

"Enough to make him feel like he was going under," she answered. "Enough to convince him to tell me where he left Jenny Cordova's body. After he was unconscious, I pushed some naloxone to counteract the morphine."

"I'm guessing you didn't record any of this on the chart?" he wondered.

"No," she said, her voice thick with shame. "Are you mortified to admit that you know me now?"

"Never," he said seriously. "How are you holding up?"

"How could I do this, Mark?" she asked plaintively. "I'm no better than he is."

"Elizabeth, I never want to hear you compare yourself to him. Even if you tried, you could never be as bad as he is. He's evil," he assured her. "This is another one of his sick, twisted games; only you got caught in the middle of it."

She sighed heavily. "I enjoyed the power I had over him."

"There's nothing wrong with that," he reminded her.

"Isn't there?" she questioned. "As physicians, yes, we have a great deal of power over our patients, but that's an enormous responsibility. One that we're not supposed to take lightly or abuse."

"But you're still human," he pointed out. "You've been dealing with this bastard for over a month now. You've seen what he's capable of doing. No one can blame you for wanting to make him pay for the pain and suffering he's caused."

"That doesn't change what I did, that doesn't make it right," she persisted.

"Maybe not," he conceded, "but what you have to focus on right now is that while you may have had the chance to let him die, you didn't do it. He's still alive, he'll be brought to trial, and hopefully, he'll be put away for a VERY long time. But most importantly, you gave that family closure. Now, because of you, they can bury their daughter and start rebuilding their lives, without wondering if she's out there somewhere. You gave them the chance to say goodbye. That's priceless."

She rested her head against the edge of the tub, closed her eyes, then sighed as she considered his words.

"Elizabeth?" he said softly after a few moments.

"Yeah, I'm here," she whispered.

"You okay?" he questioned, his concern evident in his voice.

"I think I will be," she said with a slight smile.

"I wish I could be there with you right now," he admitted.

"I know," she nodded, "but your father needs you."

"He is going to drive me crazy," he lamented.

She chuckled. "When are you coming back?"

"Not sure," he admitted. "Hopefully tomorrow, Saturday by the latest. We need to go by the nursing home tomorrow, take care of the discharge paperwork and get his things. Then decide what else we're bringing back."

She tried not to laugh as she said, "I thought it was a 'retirement community.'"

"Didn't I warn you about that?" he questioned, laughing in spite of himself.

"Yes, but you're too much fun to tease," she chuckled.

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying this," he replied sarcastically.

"What are your plans for the rest of the evening?" she wondered.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I brought a couple journals along with me. I should probably try to catch up on my reading."

"Doesn't sound like much fun," she commented.

"How about you? What are you going to be doing?" he questioned.

"I'll probably stay here in the tub until I feel like moving again, then crawl into bed," she said with a sigh.

"Now I really wish I were there," he grinned.

"You're awful!" she laughed.

"Can I help it I'm having trouble falling asleep alone?" he wondered.

She smiled. "You know, I've been having that same problem."

"Oh, really?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah," she replied softly. "I was actually grateful to pull that double over Christmas last week. By the time I finally got home, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," he said with a smile.

"You'd better." After a moment, she wondered, "What time is it?"

"Chicago or San Diego?" he asked.

"Chicago."

"You're lucky I didn't change my watch. It's almost Midnight there. What time are you on tomorrow?" he questioned.

"Seven," she replied.

"You should get some sleep," he recommended.

"I will," she promised. "And you should get off the phone. The bill for this call is going to be outrageous!"

"Worth every penny," he assured her.

"Thanks," she said softly. "When you get back, why don't you and your father come over for that barbecue you promised? We can grill the steaks on my patio."

"That sounds great," he admitted. "I'll let you know when."

"Sure," she nodded. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Of course. 'Night."

"'Night, Mark. I miss you."

"I miss you, too," he said quietly. "Bye."

After placing the telephone back in its cradle, he stood up and stretched, then walked back into the bedroom.

"Everything okay?" his father asked from the double bed on the far side of the room. "You were in there for quite a while."

"I was on the phone with Elizabeth," he explained as he picked up a medical journal from his bag.

"Awfully long phone call," David remarked.

"She had a rough day at work and just needed to talk," he said as he pulled back the sheets and climbed into his bed.

"What happened?" David inquired.

"It was just one of those days that makes you wonder if Hippocrates knew what the hell he was talking about," Mark replied.

"Huh?" David questioned.

Mark looked at his father, laughed slightly, then shook his head. "Never mind."

"Okay," David shrugged.

Mark started reading, but looked up after a moment. "Elizabeth wants us to come over to her apartment when we get back to Chicago for a barbecue."

A somewhat confused expression crossed David's face. "Doesn't it snow in Chicago?"

"Yeah," Mark nodded, "most of the winter actually."

"How the hell can you barbecue in the show?" David asked.

"You just have to be a little more creative," Mark replied. "Besides, it's not like you eat outside, you just grill the steaks out there."

"Still sounds like a crazy idea to me," David huffed.

"Dad, just give it a try!" Mark said in exasperation. Giving up on trying to read, he tossed the journal on the other side of the bed, took his glasses off and turned out the light. "'Night."

"Goodnight," David replied as he turned off his lamp.

Mark tossed and turned, but just couldn't seem to get comfortable. He sighed as he finally gave up and turned to lay on his back. Staring at the ceiling in the darkened room, he couldn't help but hope that Dean Rollins would soon be discharged and become someone else's problem. He hated the idea of Rollins being around Elizabeth for even one more day. He'd never seen a patient shake her up like this before, and that worried him.

His thoughts were still of her as sleep finally took over some time later.

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