While Luka was gone, Dave kept bathing John's face and neck, hoping that this immersion was working. As a friend, he didn't like seeing John this ill. As a doctor, he knew that John was seriously ill. He needed to be in a hospital and not stranded in a motel during a blizzard. He tried to talk to John, but John was still delirious, so the conversations weren't making a lot of sense to Dave. He had no idea who some of the people were that John kept talking about -- and to. Although the frequency in which he kept mentioning Bobby and Dennis led Dave to believe that they were important to John. He was becoming convinced that the "Anna" that John kept talking to, was Anna Del Amico, and he wondered just what had been between the two of them when she had worked at County General. And if she was the Anna he kept asking for, then it must have been so very difficult for John to have to stay in the same room with her husband. And to think that just a few minutes ago he had thought that John was lucky. Once more he ran through the possible symptoms of the drug interaction between the cold medicine and the Nardil. Agitation, confusion, sweating, dangerously high blood pressure, a high fever, rapid heart beat, rapid breathing, altered mental status, seizures. And the worst, a cardiorespiratory depression, then coma and eventually death. What had they done to him? Why hadn't he told them why he didn't want, and couldn't take the cold medicine? Suddenly, a lot that had happened over the past few weeks made sense to Dave. John wouldn't eat pizza, was only drinking decaf coffee and sodas with no caffeine. Wouldn't go out with him to grab a beer anymore. And Dave had joked with him about it, saying that Cleo and her obsession with health was getting to him. John had merely smiled back and told him that having a healthy lifestyle wasn't a joking matter, then walked away. Well, John was far from healthy right now, wasn't he?
John's body was still being wracked by coughing fits, and this scared Dave. He didn't want John to develop pneumonia, but he was afraid that it was happening. As another fit shook John's body and made waves in the tub, soaking Dave's shirt sleeve once more, he noticed that the water was cooling, and he wondered what was taking Luka so long? It was definitely time to get John out of the water, before he became chilled. He pulled the plug, then stretched as much as he could -- which wasn't easy since one arm was still cradling John's head -- and grabbed the pile of towels, pulling them over to the tub.
He was beginning to lift John out of the tub when he heard the door of the room open and then Luka was there to help him. As they bundled John up in the fluffy towels, Luka told Dave what the plans were.
"The manager doesn't have a cell phone, but one of the other guests is a trucker and he went on his radio to call for help. The roads are still bad, but the rescue squad is on the way. They will be following behind a snowplow to get here. They'll be able to follow the snowplow to the hospital. It will be slow, but John will get there."
They carried John to the bed. "I guess that's better than nothing," Dave said. Do you think this worked?"
"I hope so. You had him in there for about twenty minutes, which should have been a decent amount of time. What do you think?"
Luka was asking his opinion? This was a first. "I think that sounds right. I've never had a patient with a fever this resistant to treatment. But then again, I've never had a patient whose fever was the result of mixing two drugs that should never be mixed."
"Me either. Although I have had several patients with unusually high fevers. But, they were the results of infections and not influenza or drug interactions."
"Really?"
Luka nodded. "Back in Croatia."
That said everything. Dave had often wanted to ask Luka about Croatia. Wanted to know if he had been in the army or if things had really been as bad as the news had reported. But, he had kept quiet on the subject, and now he was glad he had. The tone of Luka's voice just now told Dave more than anything else ever could.
"Don't leave me," John whispered.
Dave looked down to see that John was staring up at him. "We won't leave you, John. We're both staying right here with you."
"Everyone leaves me."
"We're here," Luka added.
"I'm scared," John said.
"Don't be. You'll be all right. We won't let anything happen to you," Luka said.
John shook his head, "I don't want to be alone. I'm so scared I'll end up alone. Everyone I love leaves me. Everyone. And those who don't leave me push me away. Elaine. Kerry. Anna pushed me away and left me. Why? What's wrong with me? I try to be a good person and do the right things. Why?"
"I don't know, John. Women are strange like that. Hell, I get dumped on a regular basis," Dave assured him. "Hurts like Hell, too. But, it doesn't stop me from asking the next pretty woman out on a date."
"So hot," John softly said.
"Luka, would you get the thermometer?"
"Sure." Luka found the thermometer and put it in John's mouth. "Why didn't he say something about being on meds?"
Dave shrugged. "I guess he didn't want people to know that he was suffering from depression."
"That is stupid. Depression is an illness and it can be treated," Luka said. It angered him to think that some people treated those who suffered from depression as if they were insane.
"I agree with you, Luka, calm down. I doubt if Kerry Weaver knows about it though. She would have said something to you, right?"
"I hope so. What are you doing?" Luka asked as he watched Dave open his suitcase to take out a sweatshirt.
"I'm changing my shirt. It got wet while John was in the tub and it's uncomfortable. I hope that the bath worked. I'd hate to think that I got wet for nothing." Dave didn't want to think about what would happen if it didn't work. Or if the rescue squad didn't get there in time to help John.
"Is that all you can think about? The fact that your shirt got wet?" Luka asked, not even trying to keep his anger in check. He had known for a while now that Dave Malucci was full of himself, but this topped it all. How could he be so callous as to worry about getting his shirt wet when John was so ill?
Dave pulled off his wet sweatshirt and shook his head. "Relax, Kovac. I was joking. Some people do that when they're...well, when they find themselves faced with something bad or sad. It's a coping mechanism, okay?"
Luka shook his head. "No, I don't think it's okay. What if John overhears you saying something like that? How do you think he would feel?"
Dave pulled on the dry shirt and jerked the waistband into place. "The only way he's going to overhear what I said is if you keep shouting in his ear. He's delirious and he doesn't know who he's talking to..." if he was going to say anything else, it had to wait because the thermometer chose that moment to beep and John decided to have a coughing fit that surpassed the others he had endured.
Luka looked at the thermometer. "His temperature has gone down a few points. Not enough." Luka quickly set the thermometer on the nightstand, then reached down to pull John into a sitting position. That seemed to help because his coughing began to stop. Dave hurried over with his stethoscope and he listened to John's lungs.
"Well?"
Dave shook his head. "Not good. Lay him back down." Dave wanted to see if that would make a difference to John's respiration. It obviously did, because the coughing resumed, and between the coughs John was now wheezing.
"Grab those pillows from the other bed," Dave said as he pulled John upright. Luka retrieved the pillows and placed them behind John's back. Those two pillows, added to the ones already on the bed, managed to keep John elevated enough to relieve the difficulty he was having breathing.
"Did they say how long it would take for the rescue squad to get here?" Dave asked.
Luka shook his head. "Not exactly. It will be a while though."
"Shit."
Dave sat on the side of the bed watching John struggle to breathe. Luka disappeared into the bathroom, returning with the damp washcloth. He began to bathe John's face and neck again, knowing that he should do everything he could to make John comfortable.
"Luka? Can I ask you a personal question?"
Luka raised his eyebrows. Dave was known for his nosy questions -- and for the fact that he rarely hesitated to ask them. "Sure."
"Have you ever lost a patient? I don't mean someone that came to the hospital from a trauma, but someone ill and you couldn't save them."
Luka shook his head. "No. With the war, most of my patients were victims of one kind or another. What about you?"
Dave nodded. "Yeah. One. It was a student in Grenada. He had eaten a fruit that wasn't ripe enough and he died from it."
"Ah, Jamaican Vomiting Sickness."
Dave looked up sharply. "You've heard of it?"
Luka shook his head. "I heard of it from John. He told me about the patient you diagnosed. Your suspicions saved her life. At least that's what John said."
"Really? He never said anything to me about it."
"He didn't want to feed your ego. There's only so much room in the E.R., so if you're head keeps getting bigger then some of us are going to have to find another place to work."
"I'm not that bad." Dave protested. When Luka didn't laugh, Dave frowned. "Am I?"
"You are. You're always neglecting your patients."
"I do not neglect my patients," Dave angrily replied. "I treat them to the best of my abilities."
"No. You take a quick look at them, then leave it up to the students or the nurses to treat them. You're always on the prowl for a more interesting case. Why? Why is it so important to you to be the one to handle a bad trauma?"
"You probably know by now that I went to medical school in Grenada."
"You just said that a minute ago. What does that have to do with anything? I didn't go to medical school here, either."
"I didn't see a lot of trauma cases. Not like what the students see at County. Not by a long shot. Tourists with heat exhaustion or occasional boating accidents. That's about it."
Luka thought he could see what Dave was getting at. "So you feel that by going to medical school in Grenada, you missed out on the experiences that your fellow physicians had. That they may be better than you because of that."
"Yeah. Something like that."
"Well, then why did you go to school there in the first place? Why not go to a medical school where you could get that kind of training?"
Dave laughed, but it wasn't a laugh of humor. "I wanted to do that. I really did. But, there wasn't a single medical school in the good old U. S. of A. that would take me. When I went to college, I acted like it was one big party. My grades were barely passable, I spent most of my weekends drunk. In my senior year, I finally woke up and realized that I had wasted those years. I also knew then that I wanted to be a doctor. But, there wasn't enough time to pull my grades up high enough to get into medical school. At least not one in the states."
"What about your test scores? What are they called again?"
"MCAT's. Those were pretty lousy as well. If I could have aced that test, or scored high, then that might have made a difference. But, I didn't. So, I ended up in Grenada. At least it was close to the states, so I didn't feel as if I was that far from home. But being there made me miss out on a lot, and now I'm having to play catch up so I can be equal to the others. Like you and John. God, you guys are so far above me," Dave shook his head, "it's not even funny."
"Well, I can't speak for John, but my experiences were born in a war. I've had to work hard to learn how to treat patients that aren't suffering from gun shot or shrapnel wounds. I'm familiar with complaints that are war related -- malnutrition and pneumonia from inadequate food and living conditions."
"Is that why you were working as a temp over here? Were you trying to broaden your experience?"
"In a way. Being at different hospitals has exposed me to a wide range of cases." Luka noticed that the cloth was drying, so he went back to the bathroom to dampen it once more. He hoped that Dave had not noticed the tears in his eyes just now. He wasn't sure why talking about his travels would make him cry. Usually he could talk about his past without letting his emotions get the better of him. He was probably just tired. He wrung out the cloth, then went back to John's side.
"So what was the other reason?" Dave asked.
"Other reason for what?" Luka kept his attention on John, hoping that Dave would tire of the subject.
"Your other reason for all the travelling you did? That must have been pretty cool, living on a boat."
"It was cool in the winter," Luka replied evenly. He couldn't resist glancing over at Dave to see his reaction. Would he think he was serious or joking? Sometimes the Americans didn't know what to say when he made a joke. They were never sure if he was being serious. John could always tell though.
Dave grinned, "I guess that's why you always headed south for the winter."
"Right."
"So?"
"Florida is warm at this time of year, and so is the Gulf Coast."
"I wasn't asking about the weather. I was asking why you traveled like that. Why not stay in one place?"
"Too many memories. Bad memories."
Dave was silent for a minute and Luka hoped that he was thinking of another topic of discussion.
"You can't run from them, you know? They're always with you, no matter where you go."
"Like your Jamaican Vomiting Sickness patient?"
"Yeah, like him. So," Dave grinned, "what's up with you and Carol Hathaway? You've certainly been sniffing around her."
"Sniffing around her? I don't understand what you mean by that."
"Acting like you're interested in her. You know, in dating her or something."
Luka smiled as he saw what Dave meant. "I think she's a wonderful person. She's caring and witty. She's a brave woman for going through her pregnancy alone. And her little girls are adorable. She's a good friend and nothing more."
"Yeah, right," Dave scoffed.
"She is. She reminds me of my mother, and a little like my wife."
"Wife? You're married? No shit?"
"I'm married. Was married. That's one of the memories that I run from. And the memories of my children."
"Are they dead?"
Luka slowly nodded. "They were taken one night. I was working at the hospital and when I came home, they were gone. Some of the neighbors had managed to escape and when they returned they told me that the soldiers took everyone on our street. It took a few months before I found out they had been killed. I had been so committed to helping my country, but after that, I couldn't stand to be there anymore. I worked my way to Austria and then made my way over here. But, I never managed to shake their memories. Of course, living in apartment buildings with loud and loving families didn't help me. They only reminded me of what I had lost. So, one morning I woke up, took out an ad in the newspaper and sold my car. On a whim, I bought a boat. Two weeks after that I quit my job at the hospital and set sail. And I haven't been still since then. Until now."
"And you realized that you couldn't keep running away?"
Luka nodded. "I did. It also felt right at County. I can't really explain it."
"The people there are great," Dave smiled.
Luka nodded. "Yes, they are. And I think that at County, I finally found a place where I could make a difference."
"I know what you mean. I feel like that, too." Dave glanced down at John. "I think he's forgetting that though."
"February wasn't an easy month for him."
"From what I've heard, the past few years haven't been easy for him. But, he's never tried to run away from his problems." Then Dave remembered that John was now taking an anti-depressant. John might not have run away from his problems, but he hadn't found a way to deal with them either. Until now.
"Neither have you," Luka reminded him.
Dave shook his head. "Not true. That's what the first three and a half years of college were all about. Running away from my life."
"And have you stopped running?"
Dave nodded. "Yeah, I have. I know that you don't like me, and I probably can't blame you for that. I know that I can get arrogant at times. Pushy." Dave glanced sideways at Luka. "You can jump in here at any time to stop me."
Luka grinned. "Why? You seem to be doing fine all on your own."
"Gee, thanks."
"Don't mention it. Dave, you're right that I didn't have a high opinion of you. You are arrogant and pushy and at times I think you're reckless with your patients. But, I also think that I'm beginning to understand you now and can see why you behave that way."
"Since when did you become a psychiatrist?"
"I decided to double board," Luka deadpanned back.
Dave laughed. "I never expected you to have a sense of humor, Luka."
"I have a wonderful sense of humor, Dave. The problem is that only a few people are able to appreciate it."
"Like John?"
Luka nodded. "Yeah. Like John." Luka went to dampen the wash cloth again and when he came back, Dave held out his hand for it.
"I think it's my turn now."
"Thanks." Luka gave him the cloth and washed as Dave gently bathed John's face and neck. "Do you think we should try another alcohol rub? The alcohol from before must have washed out in the tub."
"It wouldn't hurt."
"I'll take care of it." Luka grabbed the bottle of alcohol and started the process again.
"I wish the rescue squad would get here soon," Dave muttered. He was so afraid that John was going to die, despite their efforts. He wasn't really sure that he could handle that. It was bad enough to lose a patient, but to have that patient be a friend as well...it wasn't something he had never wanted to think about. Yet it was what he feared the most right now. Again. And from the look on Luka's face, he could tell that it was the foremost thing on his mind as well. It also didn't help matters any that he and Luka were the ones responsible for John's deteriorating condition.
Benton backed away from the exam table, stripping off his gloves. "Time of death is..."
"No! You can't give up." John looked up from where he was still performing CPR on his friend. "You have to try harder."
"Carter, Gant is dead. There isn't anything we can do for him now. Time of death is 7:52." Benton headed for the doorway, barely pausing long enough to toss his gloves and trauma gear in the biohazard bin. And then he was gone.
John looked down at Dennis' face, his tears blurring his vision. Dennis couldn't be dead. This body couldn't be Dennis. It had to be a mistake. Someone had mugged Dennis and stolen his pager, that was why this man had the pager. This wasn't Dennis. Dennis wasn't dead.
"Carter, come on," Maggie Doyle gently said as she put her hand on his arm and tried to lead him away from the body of their friend.
"I can't give up, Maggie," he protested.
"Benton's right. There's nothing more that can be done. You can't bring a dead body back to life, John."
And that echoed in his brain as he looked down at the still form of his cousin. He ignored the words of the paramedics. It didn't matter how long Chase had been down, his heart was beating and he wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead. If he was dead, then he couldn't save him. Wouldn't be able to do it. Just like Maggie had said -- a person couldn't bring a dead body back to life. But, Chase wasn't dead. Couldn't be dead. He wouldn't let him be dead.
"You let me die, John. You let Benton walk away when there was so much more that could be done to save me. You left me alone, betrayed me. Killed me." The bloody face of Dennis Gant swam before his eyes. "Why? I thought you were my friend. Why did you kill me?"
"I didn't kill you. I'm sorry, Dennis. I did all I could. I'm so sorry."
"And what about me, Scooter? Why didn't you just let me die? You're a doctor, you had to have known that I would be brain damaged from the lack of oxygen. Why did you bring me back? I'm a vegetable now. I don't want to be alive. Why did you force this on me? Why?"
"I'm sorry, Chase. I didn't want to lose you, too. I couldn't let you die."
And then Chase's face faded away, only to replaced by that of an angelic little boy. A little boy who only had a face -- the rest of his head had been blown away by a bullet.
"Why couldn't you save me? There's so much I never got to do."
"Carter?" Lucy cried out. He turned and saw her reaching out toward him, fear in her eyes. "Help me."
John stepped toward her, but a searing pain brought him up short. He looked at Lucy and saw blood pouring from her body and trickling toward him. She appeared to be floating away on the stream of blood and he couldn't grab her hand. He couldn't save her.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he sobbed as she drifted out of sight.
"Sorry isn't good enough, son," Roland Carter told him. "A doctor doesn't have the room to be sorry. You're either a good doctor or a bad doctor. A good doctor doesn't make mistakes. He doesn't kill his patients or bring back those who should be dead. A good doctor is faultless. You are not a good doctor. You might as well give it up now, while there's still time for you to make a name for yourself in another career. I believe that father has a job opening for you. A nice, safe job, where you can never hurt anyone again. Never kill anyone."
"No. I'm a good doctor. I want to be a doctor."
"You're a failure John. You have always been a failure and you will always be a failure."
"No."
His father was joined by a host of others, most of whom he recognized -- former patients and friends. All who had been touched in some way by him. All of whom were dead or as good as dead.
"Yes. Give up, John, before you kill someone else," they chorused.
"No." But he felt his resolve wavering. It would be so easy to give up right now. To quit fighting and just rest.
"John? Can you hear me? You've got to fight this, John. You can't give up. Not now. We're almost to the hospital, and everything will be fine," Luka said.
Dave positioned John's head and watched as the EMT deftly inserted the tube, then hooked John up to the oxygen. John moaned and his head moved from side to side, but he didn't try to remove the tube.
"Hang in there, pal. You'll be in a nice soft bed before you know it. You need to get back to Chicago so Chen will have someone to argue with. God knows I don't want to deal with her. Remember when I said that I was going after her? Well, forget it. You can have her, pal. She's a little too pushy for my tastes." Dave said.
They had been in the ambulance for nearly two hours, and the EMT's were now assuring them that the hospital wasn't much further down the road. They certainly wouldn't get there soon enough, Luka thought. John's conditioning was slowly deteriorating and he needed more care than what they could provide for him in the rig.
"Don't give up, John. Stay with us." Luka grasped John's hand and squeezed hard, hoping that the man could feel the pressure and know that he wasn't alone. Luka looked over at Dave, knowing that they shared the same concerns. He knew that he did not want to be the one to have to call Kerry Weaver and tell her that John was dead. Tell her they had killed him out of ignorance. Please God, don't let it come to that. Whatever else may happen, don't let John die.
Dave emptied his pockets, finally finding enough change. He handed it to Luka. "Hopefully, Weaver will accept a collect call."
"I'm sure she will."
"Have you figured out what you're going to tell her? Obviously, she doesn't know that John's taking Nardil, so if you tell her that, then you'll be betraying him."
"I don't know what to tell her. I can't lie to her, Dave." He also didn't want to reveal something to her that John had not wanted her or anyone else to know. Then again, maybe she did know. Luka had no way of knowing the answer to that until he spoke with Kerry. With a sigh, he headed to the telephones.
Dave sat back down and watched Luka walk over to the bank of telephones that lined the far wall in the emergency room. He was trying to do everything he could to keep from letting his lack of sleep catch up to him. The staff had offered empty beds to him and Luka, but they had declined them for the present. Neither one of them wanted to sleep until they knew more about John's condition. And if they had been infected with this flu. Dave knew that was something that had the staff worried as well, and they were making sure that the two men were well. They brought them food and juice, took their temperature and pulse. Constantly. They even reassured them that they had a good supply of zanamavir, just in case they needed it. They were a good crew, Dave thought with a smile.
But, it wasn't as if they were busy. Aside from John, there were two other patients in there. The staff assured him that business would pick up once the roads were clear and the police and rescue squads could easily reach those in need. And those who were beyond need. Dave could barely hear Luka's voice, so it was obvious that he had reached someone back at County. He closed his eyes, certain that a brief rest couldn't hurt him right now.
"Luka?" Kerry's voice sounded anxious over the phone line.
"We're at the hospital with John, Kerry."
"How is he?"
"Not good. His temperature is slightly above 106, and he's had two seizures since we left the motel, one in the ambulance and one here. His breathing is so labored that they had to intubate him on theway in. We're waiting now to hear from the doctor."
"You're not in the exam room with him?"
"They won't let us in. There's a chance that we might have the same flu virus, so until it's been determined that we don't, we're not allowed anywhere but chairs. The staff here is nice though, and they've been checking us on a regular basis."
"I want the phone number for the hospital and the name of the doctor that's treating John."
Luka gave her those details. "Luckily, this end of the county still has electricity and phone service, but the snow is getting heavier here, so I don't know how long that will last."
"I understand. I asked for Rosher's records from Buffalo. I thought they might be useful to John's doctor."
"I'll mention it to the nurse and she can ask him. Rosher's wife, Anna, is she ill?"
"She's also in the hospital, but they're sure she'll pull through all right."
"Kerry, did John date her?"
"Why would you ask that?"
"He kept calling for someone named Anna, so we thought that perhaps they had been more than friends while she was working in Chicago."
There was a long pause before Kerry answered. "They never dated, but John was in love with her. It broke his heart when she left here with Max Rosher. If I would have known that the two of them were going to be at that conference, I would have never sent John."
"I see. Kerry, do you know if John is allergic to any medications? Anything they should avoid giving him?" If Kerry knew about the Nardil, then he would find out now.
"Not that I know about. I'll arrange for his records to be sent to the hospital."
"Good. I'm sure that will be a big help here. I'll call you back as soon as I hear from the doctor." Luka wanted to hang up before Kerry began to ask him why John's condition didn't match that of a flu patient.
"I'm getting ready to go home now. Let me give you that number. Call me with any news, Luka, no matter if it's good or bad."
"I will." He took down her number, then hung up and went to tell Dave what Kerry had said, only to find that he was sound asleep in his chair. So, he searched for the nurse and told her what Kerry had said about Rosher's records. She disappeared into the exam room for just a minute and when she returned she told him that Doctor Robins would like the records. So, Luka went back to the phones and caught Kerry before she left work. Minutes later, Rosher and John's records were coming through on the fax machine behind the desk. Luka wasn't exactly sure if all of this was legal, but he didn't care. As long as it helped John get better, then that was all that mattered.
A hand gently shook Luka's arm and he sat up with a start, not really sure where he was. Then he recognized the emergency room of the hospital in Ohio. To his left, Dave was still asleep, and to his right sat John's physician, Doctor Ben Robins.
"I know you probably needed that nap, but you wanted me to bring you up to date on John's condition."
Luka ran a hand through his hair as he collected his thoughts. "Yes. How is he doing?"
Dave began to awaken, but Luka kept his attention on Robins. "As you know, he was dehydrated, so he's being given fluids for that. We haven't been able to extubate him yet and we're still working to reduce his temperature, but the good news is that it hasn't gone up since his arrival. And he hasn't had any further seizures."
"What about the possibility of the flu going into pneumonia?" Dave asked.
"There s some consolidation in his lungs, so we're giving him antibiotics for that. As for the flu, there isn't much we can do except try our best to reduce his temperature and keep him comfortable."
"Have Rosher's records been of any help at all?" Luka asked.
"Yes, in that we know what medications didn't work for Rosher. But, John isn't HIV positive, so he should respond to treatment. However, the drug interaction between the Nardil and the cold medicine is giving us a new set of problems to deal with. John's experiencing tachypnea, is hypoxic, and has tachycardia. His blood pressure is high, dangerously so, but we're attempting to control that with a labetalol drip. Once we get him stabilized down here, then we'll be sending him up to the I.C.U., where he can be constantly monitored. You got him here in good time, and I feel optimistic though about John making a full recovery."
"That's good," Luka said. He had been afraid that if John did recover, he would have his health compromised for the rest of his life.
"And what about us? I know I'm not feeling ill, I don't know about Luka." Dave said.
"You said you had been at a medical conference with Rosher. When did his symptoms first appear?" Robins asked.
"I think it was on Friday, the second day. And John was fine when we left this morning. It wasn't until we were on the road that he became ill," Luka said.
"That's not really true, Luka. He was complaining Sunday night about not feeling well. At the time, I thought he was just stressed from having to deal with Rosher being sick." Dave said.
"So, Rosher exhibited symptoms on Friday, and John on Sunday night. And knowing when John first became ill gives us another avenue of treatment for the flu."
"You're referring to zanamavir?" Dave asked.
Robins nodded. "It's proving to be very effective if administered during the first two days that symptoms appear. It certainly won't hurt to give it to John. As for the two of you, if you were infected by Rosher, then you would be ill by now. If you were infected by John, then we won't know for another day or so. I think it would be best if the two of you went back to your motel and stayed put."
"That might be a problem. We rode in with John," Luka said.
"I live out in that direction. I can give you a lift. That is, if the roads are passable by the time my shift ends. If not, then I guess you two are stuck here. The head nurse did find beds for you, didn't she?"
"She did. We didn't want to go to sleep until we knew how John was doing," Dave said, feeling a little guilty over how easily he had fallen asleep.
"Well, you should take advantage of them now. John will be on his way to the I.C.U. soon." Robins got to his feet and Dave and Luka followed suit.
"Get some rest and something to eat. I'll be checking on John and if his condition worsens, then I'll wake you."
"Thanks."
The doctor left and Dave and Luka went in search of the head nurse and their promised beds.
When Dave opened his eyes, he found himself wishing that he hadn't bothered. His head was pounding and he felt achy all over. The flu had caught him, although he did hope that his aches and pains were due to the hard bed and the headache from stress.
He had sat up and was just about to stand when the door opened and one of the more attractive nurses entered the room.
She smiled when she saw him. "I was sent in here to wake you up, but I can see that's not an issue. Doctor Robins is ready to go home now. If you want to catch a ride with him back to your motel, you'll need to meet him at the admit desk in fifteen minutes."
"Great," he said with more enthusiasm than he felt. What he really wanted to do was crawl under the covers and go back to sleep. Suddenly, John's earlier behavior didn't seem childish after all. "I think you should check my temperature?"
Her demeanor went from playful to professional in a heartbeat. "You don't feel well either?"
"Either? Does that mean Luka has the flu, too?"
"You didn't hear it from me." She stuck a thermometer in his mouth, then took his pulse and blood pressure.
"A little over 103. Normal for the flu. I'll tell Doctor Robins and he'll give you a script for zanamavir. You should be able to nip this in the bud before you feel any worse."
"Any word on how John Carter is doing?"
"He's much better, but not quite out of danger. His fever has been reduced and his breathing is less labored. He's going to be spending some time with us, I'm afraid. I know you want to see him, but there's no way that you and Doctor Kovac can be allowed to go to any other section of the hospital."
"Sorry. We didn't intend to infect everyone here."
"Not your fault. The flu shot can't be made to include every possible strain that might hit."
"You said that Luka wasn't feeling well. How is he?"
"He's already started on the zanamavir and claims to be feeling better already." There was a far away look in her eyes as she spoke about Luka and Dave felt a flash of jealousy over the fact that Ms. Perkins didn't get that look in her eyes when she was talking to him. The jealousy quickly passed as he remembered all that Luka had lost. Being good looking and nice didn't guarantee happiness, that was for sure.
An hour later, he and Luka were in Robins car and on their way back to the motel. The roads were clear, but the traffic was still light and Dave commented on that.
"The county has an excellent road crew. The minute the snow stopped, they were out on the main roads, getting them clear. It will take a bit longer to clear the back roads, but once those are done, the traffic will pick up. Aren't the roads cleared quickly in Chicago?"
"Yeah, but that's a fairly big city. Come to think of it, I've never been out in the country, so to speak, after a heavy snow storm," Dave said.
Robins laughed. "You don't have to sound apologetic about referring to this as "country". We know we're well off the beaten path. But, we like it that way. I take it that you're from a big city then?"
"Newark. They keep the streets clear of snow there, too. What about you? Are you from around here?"
"Yep. Born and raised here. The only time I wasn't here was while I was in college and medical school. I lucked out and ended up doing my residency in Cleveland, so home was never far away. Once I was done with that, I knew that I really wanted to come back here to work. I know my patients and they know me. They trust me." He shrugged. "Besides, it's home."
"There is that," Luka whispered, a wistful look on his face. He had felt that way in Croatia. Until forces beyond his control had made home an unbearable place to live.
"What about you, Doctor Kovac? Where are you from?"
"Croatia. We get our share of snow there, too."
Robins laughed. "I'll bet you do. My Dad was in Yugoslavia during World War, II. His plane was shot down and he was rescued by the chetniks. He called them freedom fighters."
"The chetniks were Serbs," Luka tonelessly replied. "Even back then, the Serbs and Croats were fighting each other."
"Guess that kind of explains the troubles over there, huh?"
"It's just the tip of the iceberg, Doctor Robins. The bad feelings go back a long time." Luka saw a grocery store in the distance and thought it looked familiar. As they got closer, he saw that it was the one he had gone to the day before.
"Would you mind stopping at the store? I think we could use some more juice. And some soup. I have money, if you wouldn't mind going in?"
"Not a problem." The doctor pulled into the parking lot. "Any special requests?"
"Bee..." Dave trailed off as he caught Luka's stern gaze. "Chicken noodle would be great."
"I'll be right back." Robins got out of the car and they watched him disappear through the front door.
"How long do you think we'll be out of commission?" Dave asked.
Luka shrugged. "A few days at least. Then we can head for Chicago."
"I wish we were taking John with us."
"Me, too. But, that isn't going to happen. The best we can hope for is that we're well enough that they'll let us in to see him. I don't like thinking about him waking up all alone in a strange hospital."
"Me, either. He's going to think we deserted him or something."
"Or something. Like nearly killing him." Luka's eyes were grim as he spoke.
"Luka, it isn't our fault."
"That's right. It's my fault. I was the one who bought the medicine in the first place, and I was the one who slipped it into the juice. I have to live with the fact that my arrogance almost killed another person."
"You aren't arrogant. That's my department, remember?"
Luka turned around to glare at him. "I'm not in the mood for humor, Dave."
"Sorry. Luka, yes, you bought the medicine and you put it in his juice. But, I'm the one who got him to drink the juice because I agreed with you. If John would have been up front with us about what he was taking, then this wouldn't have happened."
"You can't blame this on John. He was under no obligation to tell us his personal business."
"I'm not blaming him. I'm blaming fate. He did what he thought was right for him by not telling us that he was taking a prescription medicine. We did what we thought was right by giving him cold medicine without his knowledge. None of us knew that this would happen. We did the best we could and John is alive. That's what counts most, right?"
Luka was still for a moment as he thought about what Dave was saying. Then he slowly nodded. "I guess you have a point. We all learned a lesson from this. I learned to listen to my patient a little more closely. Hopefully John learned to be more up front with his friends regarding his medical condition."
"And I learned to go through a person's luggage at every possible opportunity," Dave said with a grin.
Luka shook his head, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. Dave was never going to totally change, but right now, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted him to. There had to be someone around who didn't take life seriously.
Robins exited the store and got back in the car, passing the bag to Dave in the back seat. "I hope that's enough."
Dave looked in the bag, nodding. "It looks like it. Thanks."
"No problem." Robins started the engine and headed for the motel.
"Are you sure this isn't out of your way?" Luka asked.
"It is, but just a little. The next time I see you two, I trust that you will have driven yourselves to the hospital. I'll call you to keep you apprised of John's condition."
"Thanks. You know, for someone who is exposing himself to the flu, you seem pretty happy," Dave said.
Robins looked up in the rear view mirror and smiled back at Dave. "I am happy. I have all of today and half of tomorrow off, and I intend to spend most of it sleeping. Just in case though, I did bring some zanamavir with me."
He pulled into the parking lot of the motel and Luka directed him to their room, where he parked beside their rental car.
"If you're off tomorrow, then who should we speak with about John?" Luka asked.
"Doctor Robert Hastings or Doctor Alex Smith. They're both taking care of him. They're both good doctors, but I like Alex best."
"He's that good?" Dave asked.
Robins grinned again, and this time there was a twinkle in his eyes. "Yes. Plus, she's my fiancé."
"I guess you are partial to her then," Luka said. He wished he could be lucky enough to fall in love with a woman who shared his passion for healing. His wife hadn't shared that passion, but she had understood it, and that meant a lot.
"Thanks for the ride. Drive home safely," Dave said as he got out of the backseat.
"I will. Take care, follow the directions for the medicine and I'm sure the two of you will be feeling better in no time."
Luka unlocked the door to their room and stepped inside. It didn't look any different than it had when they had left it. Both beds were unmade, towels were piled on the bathroom floor where they had dropped them after giving John his tepid bath. The only thing extra was the debris from the I.V.'s the E.M.T.'s had administered to John.
Dave closed the door and locked it. "Seems empty without John here, doesn't it?"
"Yeah. It does. I'll call the manager and see if he can bring over some fresh linens. I don't know about you, but I want to crawl into a warm bed and get some more sleep." Luka began to pick up the trash from the floor.
"I agree with you about that, Luka." Dave put the bag of groceries on the table, then began to strip the beds. He ended up stuffing all the dirty linens, towels and wash cloths in the used pillowcases. By the time he was done, the manager was there with fresh linens for them. As before, he wanted to talk, and Luka indulged him for a few minutes, then reminded him to wash everything in very hot water to kill the germs. He didn't quite close the door in the man's face, but he didn't miss it by far. A few minutes later, both men were sound asleep in freshly made beds.
The next few days crawled by for the two men. Dave had a deck of cards in his suitcase and he offered to teach Luka how to play poker. Neither one of them had enough money to make a game worthwhile, so they ended up breaking off the tines from the plastic forks and using those in place of money.
Dave decided it wouldn't be fair to actually bet while he was teaching Luka how to play, but once Luka indicated that he had the hang of the game, Dave decided that it was safe to bet. He soon found himself regretting that choice though when his pile of tines diminished while Luka's grew larger.
"Are you sure you've never played poker before?" Dave groused as he folded once again.
"I never said I hadn't played poker before. You simply offered to teach me the game so we could while away the hours. You never asked me if I knew how to play." Luka grinned as he shuffled the cards. "Why don't we make things more interesting, hmm? How about Jacks are better, trips to win, progressive. You do know how to play that, right?"
"I know how to play that. Just deal the cards. Now that I know I'm dealing with a card shark, I can take off the kid gloves."
"You can do what?"
"It means that I can quit being nice to you."
"So that's what you were doing. I thought you were just a bad poker player."
"Just deal," Dave growled.
Luka laughed and dealt out the cards, thinking it was a pity that they weren't playing for money.
When they weren't playing cards, they were either watching television or calling the hospital to check on John's condition. Doctor Robins had been right when he told them that Doctor Smith was a nice person. She always made sure that their questions about John were completely answered. If they happened to get the other doctor, they were never sure if they were getting the full picture regarding John's condition. The man would only give them basic information. From their calls with Kerry Weaver, they found that she didn't get much information from the man either.
After one of the calls to Doctor Smith, Luka hung up the receiver and sighed.
"Has he had a relapse?" Dave cut off the television and looked over at Luka.
"No. He's finally out of the I.C.U. Not really any better yet, but not as bad off as he was yesterday. I'm just tired of being stuck here and not able to do anything."
"According to Robins, we should be over the flu within the next day or two. Then we can go see John and get back to Chicago. You won't feel so useless then."
Luka silently agreed with Dave about that. He was sure that the E.R. was hurting by having three of the doctors gone for such a long time. There would be a lot of double shifts to make up for once they got back. He just wished that there would be three of them going back instead of two.
Dave easily picked up that Luka was in a melancholy mood. It was tedious and exasperating to be confined to their motel room. And Dave knew that Luka was still blaming himself for John being in the hospital. He tried to think of something that would cheer Luka.
"What made you decide to become a doctor?" he finally asked, hoping that the answer wouldn't make Luka think about his dead family.
"I just always knew that I wanted to help people. Help anything really. When I was growing up, I would take care of all the sick animals in our neighborhood, even the wild birds. I probably would have been a veterinarian if I had not become a doctor. What about you? You said that it wasn't until your last year of college that you realized that's what you wanted to be, right?"
Dave nodded. "Yeah. Not that the idea was new to me. My grandfather Alvarez was a doctor and when I was growing up he kept trying to talk me into becoming one as well."
"Alvarez doesn't sound very Italian."
"It isn't. It's Cuban. My Mom's parents fled Cuba when Castro took over. They had a good life there and they left it all behind because they knew that Castro would take away everything they had worked so hard to earn. They preferred to willingly give up everything in order to keep their freedoms. My Dad's parents were both born in the U.S., but their parents were from Italy."
"That explains why you speak Spanish so well. Cleo has mentioned that more than once."
"I can't speak Italian though. My grandparents do speak it, but they never used it much in front of their kids, so my Dad never learned it. Luckily for him, he decided to learn Spanish in school. Even though my Mom became very fluent in English within two years of moving here, it still came in handy for Dad when he found himself face to face with the rest of her family. What about you? Are you trilingual?"
"I can speak and understand German, but I can't write it very well. I didn't stay in Austria long enough to get that proficient in it. I have thought about learning Spanish. It would be a good language to know."
"Is there a word for someone who speaks four languages? Other than overachiever?" Dave asked with a grin.
"I don't know. We'll have to ask Randi when we get back. She seems to know everything."
"Ain't that the truth." Feeling bold now that he felt he knew Luka better, Dave asked, "Do you miss Croatia much?"
Luka shook his head. "Not really. My memories of there aren't good ones. I'm glad I left." He looked away, thinking to end the subject, then decided that Dave might as well hear the whole truth about what happened in Croatia.
"I didn't tell you everything earlier. I wanted to join the army, work as a doctor for my country. My wife didn't want me to be a soldier, even if I was just a doctor. So, I didn't join. Instead I remained working at the hospital. As it turned out, I treated the same type of injuries, only most of patients were civilians. The night my family was taken, I was working a double shift because one of the other doctors had been killed by a sniper on his way home the day before."
"Wow. Talk about a bad neighborhood," Dave commented.
"It was very dangerous getting to and from the hospital. The Serbs didn't care if they shelled the hospital or not. They just wanted to run us out. Anyway, I made my way home, tired and wanting to sleep. I got to my street and found it smoldering. Every house had been burned. And it was so empty. I was afraid because I didn't know what had happened to my family. I hoped they had gone to relatives. An old woman who lived down the street from us approached me, telling me that the Serbs had come and taken everyone away. Then they burned the houses. I went to the local authorities, but they didn't have any further information. All they did was tell me to go get some sleep and that maybe they would have more information when I came back in the morning. They didn't. And they didn't know anything else the next morning either. I was able to salvage a few things from the ashes of my home. Some photographs and mementos. Not much. The fourth day after they had been taken we heard that the Serbs had executed everyone from our street and buried them in a mass grave. Unfortunately, we had no way to confirm that information because the grave was in Serb occupied territory." Luka took a deep breath as he remembered how helpless he had felt upon hearing that. But his helplessness had quickly turned to rage.
"I knew that the only way to find out for sure if they were dead was to find the grave. To do that, I had to join the army. I didn't join as a doctor. I joined as a man out for revenge. I can't tell you how many Serbs I killed in battle, Dave. I know it had to be a lot. And I got my answer. We found the grave and I was able to identify the bodies of my wife and children by the jewelry they were wearing. They each had distinctive gold crucifixes. Why the Serb soldiers didn't take them, I'll never know, but they didn't. They left them on their bodies. And I still burned for vengeance. Then one day, our commander ordered us into a village to burn it. We were to shoot anyone who resisted when we ran them out of their homes. They weren't even Serbs. They were Muslims. I stood in the middle of a street and looked around in horror as the other soldiers carried out our orders. It was if I had been trapped in a nightmare, but then was finally able to wake up. What we were doing was wrong. It was the same thing the Serbs had done to us. I turned around and walked out of the village. I wasn't the only soldier who walked away that day. After that, I asked for a discharge. After much argument, I received it, and then I went to Austria. I knew that I had disappointed my wife by my actions and I vowed that I would never intentionally cause the death of another human being."
Dave opened his mouth, then closed it. What was there that he could say to that? Except, "I'm glad you walked away that day, Luka."
Luka's smile was thin as he nodded. "Not nearly as glad as I, Dave."
"You know, I have never understood how my grandfather Alvarez, who has such a good life here, can sit and plan the overthrow of Castro so he can go home to Cuba. It consumes him. He just recently retired from a very successful medical practice and all of his children and grandchildren are patriotic Americans. He's never become a citizen. In his heart and soul, he is Cuban and he wants to return there."
"There are areas back home where no Serb has lived in hundreds of years, yet they claim the land as theirs. They will fight to the death to get it back. I don't understand it either. I don't understand how I could kill people, but I did. I guess that's why I don't like to talk about it. You're the only person at County who knows all the details."
"Well, I'm glad you were finally able to tell someone about what happened to you. It's not healthy to keep something like that locked up inside of you, Luka. I promise you that your story won't go beyond these four walls."
"I appreciate that. It's getting late. We should go to bed."
The next morning they got up and found that their temperatures were back to normal. Their morning call to the hospital made them even happier because they learned that John's condition had improved overnight and if their fevers didn't return, then they would be allowed to visit John that afternoon.
Dave and Luka took another dose of zanamavir and kept their fingers crossed. Lunch came and went and their temperatures remained normal. They packed, checked out of the motel and headed for the hospital, planning to see John and then head home. It had been five days since they had first noticed their flu symptoms, and they were more than ready to celebrate their freedom.
When Luka and Dave arrived at the hospital, they went to the E.R. to see if Robins was on duty. He was, and he was very happy to see them. He had been lucky and didn't pick up the flu from them.
"Alex is on duty upstairs, so you'll finally get to meet her. She's told me how much she's enjoyed her phone conversations with you," he told Luka.
"She's been very helpful."
"That's good to hear. It's time for my break, so I'll take you up there. Follow me." Robins let the desk clerk know that he was on his way to the third floor and then they headed for the elevators.
"I guess that you guys are anxious to get home, aren't you?"
"Very much so. We're not looking forward to the extra shifts we'll probably have to work, but it will definitely be good to be home," Luka said.
"It'll be more than good. It'll be great. How long will it be until John is released?" Dave asked.
Robins shrugged. "You'll have to ask Alex, she's his main doctor. I do know that he'll be happy to see you guys. He's been asking about you."
The doors opened on the third floor and he led them straight to the nurses desk, asking where Doctor Smith could be found.
"She's in with John Carter right now," the head nurse replied.
"Good. That's who we're here to see. Thanks, Pam."
They walked away, but Dave was sure he heard one of the nurses say that she wished the cute one was there to see her. Maybe, just maybe, she meant him. But, he doubted it.
Robins stopped in front of room 312 and knocked on the door.
"Come in," a woman called out.
They went inside and Dave and Luka found that Robins had not exaggerated a bit when he extolled the virtues of his future wife. She was a beautiful woman. As for John, well, Dave thought that John had definitely seen better days. He was pale and thin, but he smiled when he saw them and even sat up straighter. Dave had thought that John would be in better shape after five days in the hospital. But, then again, after the time he had spent at County General, John probably felt sick just over the thought of being a patient once more.
"Hey, there. Alex told me that you two were finally over the flu. I'm just sorry that you ended up catching it from me."
Luka shrugged. "It couldn't be helped. How are you feeling?"
"Better. They finally found something to take care of the pneumonia." He saw the questioning looks on their faces, but before he could explain, Alex jumped in.
"John apparently picked up an antibiotic resistant organism somewhere -probably in the E.R. You trauma doctors get exposed to all types of nasty things down there. It made it difficult for us to treat his pneumonia. But, we finally got it under control and he's going to be fine." She grabbed Robins by the hand and they headed for the door. "We'll give you guys a chance to catch up with each other," she said. "It was nice to finally meet you both."
"It was a pleasure to meet you, too," Luka said. He waited until the door had completely shut, then he returned his attention back to John. His eyes clouded over with worry, he began, "John, I'm so sorry that I put you in the hospital. I should have never given you the cold medicine. I almost killed you and I'm sorry about that. I'll do anything I can to make it up to you."
"Luka, it wasn't all your fault." John said, shaking his head. "I should have told you why I didn't want to take anything. I wasn't so out of it from the flu that I couldn't take two minutes to explain things. I'm just glad that you figured it out." He stared down at his hands and continued, his voice barely audible. "I've been having a rough time since Lucy...since Valentine's."
Luka and Dave exchanged glances, neither one of them forgetting the way that Valentine's Day ended.
"It wasn't your fault," Dave said. Then he decided to be bold and ask about something that had bothered him ever since he had found the bottle of Nardil. He really meant to be tactful, but when he opened up his mouth, what came out was far from it. "What the fucking Hell was Daraad thinking when he prescribed that to you? No one uses that shit anymore."
John continued to stare at his hands for a few moments and when he looked up at Dave, they could tell he was struggling to decide what to say. "I tried a lot of medicines and nothing else worked for me. It's been rough. I know in my head that it wasn't my fault, but my heart has been having a difficult time with all of it. I never thought I'd say this, but I miss Lucy."
"We all do. Ms. Knight would have been an excellent doctor," Luka said.
John apparently decided to change the subject. "Thanks for taking care of me. I really do appreciate it."
"You're welcome." Dave felt uneasy being thanked for doing what a friend should do anyway. "So, when can you get out of here?"
"I'm not sure. Alex is being vague about that. My blood pressure is still high and I'm still running a slight fever. They aren't sure if that's from the flu or from the drug interaction. She also wants to run a few tests because I had more than one seizure and she wants to make sure that there's no residual damage from them. It won't be soon enough for me, that's for sure. I've heard enough "doctors make bad patients" remarks to last for a lifetime."
"It could be worse. They could be nurses you personally know," Dave joked.
"I dunno. At least I would be in Chicago and not here. But, I can't complain about the care I've received. It's been top notch."
"Good. We're going to head back to Chicago today. I think that Kerry Weaver will be very happy to have us back," Luka commented.
"I spoke to her on the phone this morning. She was at work and sounded harried. I'm sure it's been rough for them to be down by three doctors. Tell her that I'll be there as soon as I can."
"We will. We brought your suitcase with us. It's down in the car, but we'll bring it up to you before we leave." Dave told him.
"I appreciate that," John ran his hand over his face. "I can use a shave. And a few other things."
"Oh, I don't know. You might want to give some thought to growing a beard. It might make you look older and more mature." Dave said.
"Been there, done that. Got rid of it. Any other grooming suggestions, Dave?" John couldn't help but grin as he asked.
Dave shook his head. "Can't think of any right now. So, is your family staying near here?"
John's smile disappeared. "No. They didn't come." He looked away from them, then shook his head and turned his head back to face them. "There wasn't any reason for them to be here while I was in the I.C.U. There wasn't anything they could do for me then. I'll see them when I get back to Chicago. Besides, my parents are out of the country."
"I see," Luka said. But, he didn't. This was a repeat of the time John spent in the hospital back in February. Luka didn't understand why John's family stayed away then and he didn't understand why they were staying away now. If his child, brother or sister was in the hospital, he would be there. But, he didn't have any siblings, and he no longer had any children, so there was no chance of him ever needing to go back to Croatia for such a visit.
Dave kept quiet. He had picked up a lot of information about John's family from his co-workers. He knew they were rich and powerful. He knew that John's parents spent more time outside of the U.S. than they did in Chicago. He knew that John didn't see any of his family much. The most had been his recent affair with Elaine Nichols, and she wasn't really family. She was simply the ex-wife of his cousin. But, Dave knew that if he were the one in the hospital bed, then his parents would be there at his side. And so would his grandparents. He didn't think too highly of the Carter family. He had not been the only one to notice their absence when John had been stabbed. Back then, he had simply felt sorry for John. Now he felt angry on his behalf. Angry that the people who should love him the most seemed to not give a damn about him.
Sensing that John was uncomfortable talking about his parents, Dave changed the subject and nearly an hour passed before the nurse chased them out so she could take John's vital signs. Dave took that opportunity to go to the parking lot to get John's suitcase and when he got back upstairs, Luka was once more in the room talking with John.
"Shall I unpack it?"
"Please. After spending all that time on my back, my legs are more than a little wobbly when I stand."
Dave put everything away, then stowed the suitcase in the small closet near the bathroom.
"I think we need to get on the road, Luka," Dave said.
"I think you're right." Luka stood and the two of them said their good-byes to John. Then they left.
"I hope that Kerry is willing to let me have time off when John is discharged. I would like to come here to bring him home," Luka said in the elevator.
"Count me in, Luka. We left Chicago together, we should return that way. It's going to feel strange going back without him this time."
"I know. But, we'll make up for that when he's released."
"Definitely." They stepped out of the elevator and headed for the parking lot.
"Luka?"
"Yes?"
"Did I ever tell you how grateful I was that you worked a double shift on Christmas Eve so I could stay home with my family?"
"I think you mentioned it in passing."
"Well, I really did appreciate it. It was great to have my folks come all the way to Chicago to see me. If you hadn't been willing to switch shifts with me, then I wouldn't have had much time to spend with them. Thanks."
"You're most welcome." At the time he had offered to work the extra shift, he had not been too thrilled when Dave had been the person to take him up on his offer. But, he had made the offer to switch shifts with anyone who wanted Christmas Eve off and he didn't feel that it was right to back out of the offer just because Dave was the only taker. Now he was glad that he had kept his word. "Let's go home, Dave."
"Can we stop somewhere for lunch? We don't have to eat in, we can get it to go."
"That all depends. Are you paying?"
"Yeah, I'll pay."
Luka grinned, "Then I guess we can stop. Name your preference."
"I would kill for a good cheeseburger right now."
"Doesn't that eliminate any fast food place then?"
"Don't be a food critic, Luka. Just be prepared to stop when I tell you to stop, all right?"
They got into the car and left the parking lot, looking for signs advertising a burger joint. As happy as they were to be headed back to Chicago, they were also sad at the fact they had to leave John behind. But, having seen him, they knew that he was doing fine physically, so they didn't have to worry about that any longer. All they had to worry about was convincing Kerry Weaver to let them be the ones to come back to Ohio to get him once he was released from the hospital.