Homeless Once More, Part Thirteen
By Cathy Roberts
glroberts@bigfoot.com
The days and weeks flew by rapidly after John's discharge from the hospital. He managed to avoid the apartment's kitchen altogether by either taking his meals at the hospital or out. Kerry made an offer on the house and it was accepted. The scheduled closing date was shortly before Christmas and she began to pack her belongings for the move.
John underwent surgery to repair his shoulder and was assured by the doctors that his arm would be out of the sling by Christmas. He continued to see Dr. McIntyre weekly, giving the psychiatrist all the appropriate answers and not telling McIntyre anything he didn't already know. John had also come up with a solution to his sleeplessness problem. He found that if he stayed up until the early morning hours, then he would have no trouble falling asleep and remaining that way until his alarm went off. He was pleased that his parents had remained in Chicago, although they did have to make some business trips to Europe every so often. It seemed as if his father was intending to honor his promise, but John wasn't going to get his hopes up that this was going to last. He went to his parents' house once a week to have dinner with them, and he never knew when one or both of them would appear at the hospital to treat him to lunch. John was pleasantly surprised each time that happened, but again, he refused to believe that this would continue.
Since his shoulder injury prevented him from doing a majority of the procedures, John had to rely on Lucy a lot when they treated a patient. He could see that her confidence was growing and he felt she was doing an admirable job. John knew he could be justifiably proud of Lucy when the time came for her to move on to her next rotation.
It didn't escape John's notice that Lucy and Peter Benton were the only people who didn't pointedly ask him how he was doing each day. He understood that his colleagues genuinely cared about him, but their questions only reminded him of all that he was trying to forget.
While the majority of those around him were of the opinion that he was recovering nicely from the attempted assault, those closest to him realized that while he seemed cheerful on the outside, inside he was anything but.
It was the little things that made his friends suspicious: his reluctance to purchase a new vehicle once he had received the insurance check for his Jeep; his refusal to pack his belongings until the night before he and Kerry had to move; the way that, when eating alone in the cafeteria, he would suddenly have to be somewhere else if someone asked to sit with him. It didn't matter if he had just sat down himself or was in the middle of eating, he would find some reason to leave. After he and Kerry moved into the house, he began to keep to himself in the basement, emerging only when he had to go to work or when Kerry asked him to come upstairs. Kerry also noticed that he was keeping his room dark. Aside from her worry that he was far more depressed than he admitted, she also worried that he would injure himself on the stairs. John was also roaming the house at night, going from the basement to the living room and back again several times during the night and always in total darkness. At first, Kerry feared he was sleep walking, but she soon realized that he was simply unable to sleep. She would time him, making note that he would begin his roaming around midnight and finally stopping between three and four in the morning. Once she determined his pattern, she told Mark about it and they agreed to give John shifts that began later in the morning or day. In order to make it appear as if he wasn't receiving favorable treatment, Kerry and Mark adjusted their hours as well, so Kerry often came to work with John at eight in the morning. She still felt that was too early for him, but it wasn't as bad as expecting him to be to work at six when he didn't get to bed until four a.m.
Two days before Christmas, John was given the all clear on his shoulder and the sling came off. He was greatly relieved to be rid of that cumbersome thing, but when his father called to ask if he wanted to accompany him to cut the family Christmas Tree, he wished he still had that as an excuse. Since his father knew that he was totally healthy, he couldn't lie to him, so he found himself riding with his father out to his grandparents' estate to look for the perfect tree for the Carter celebration.
The two men walked through the woods in silence, keeping their eyes open for the tree that would adorn the house. A small smile appeared on John's face as he passed the site where he and Abby had cut down the Christmas Tree a few years ago. It was also the place where he had made love to her in the snow.
"Did you find a good tree?" Roland asked.
"No. I was just remembering that two years ago, I cut down a tree right over there." John pointed to the stump.
"I remember that tree. It was very nice. Chase chose the tree last year."
"Yeah. It's a shame he can't be here to choose one now. Do you remember how you and Uncle Branch would take all of us kids out to find the tree?"
Roland laughed, "I remember. You boys were constantly teasing the girls, telling them that only Carter men were allowed to cut down the tree. Before too long, K. C. would be crying and then Barbara would get angry and throw herself at all three of you, hitting and kicking until I could pull her off. If I remember correctly, Bobby and Chase were the worst about teasing the girls. You usually stopped the minute you saw K. C.'s lips begin to quiver."
"I never liked to make her cry. I think Bobby and Chase found it a challenge to see how quickly they could get her in tears."
"They weren't very nice to her, were they?"
"No, they weren't. But, then again, the girls weren't always very nice to us, either."
Roland looked around the woods, thinking of how many times he had made the trip into them in order to find the perfect tree. For so many years, it had just been him, Branch and their father. Once he reached the age of thirteen, his father had let him know that he was old enough to bear the responsibility of choosing the right tree. He and Branch were sent out alone. It took the two of them five hours of searching, but they did find a great tree. Their mother had beamed with pride as she watched them haul it into the house. Their father had said nothing; he only nodded his head and then told the butler to help them get it into the tree stand. Would it have been so difficult for the man to have told them they had done a good job?
"I remember the last time Bobby came out here," John said.
Roland nodded, "Your mother didn't want him to come out with us. She didn't want him catching a chill. I remember that you assured her that you would make sure he kept warm and that you would see to it that we would come back immediately if Bobby got cold. She finally relented, but she did bundle him up before she would allow him out."
John laughed, "He looked like a snowman. I don't see how he was able to even move with everything that she put on him. At first, I thought that Chase and I were going to have to roll him through the snow to get him into the woods."
"It was a funny sight, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, it was. But, we did get a great tree that year, didn't we? Bobby spotted it, so the tree was his that year."
"It was appropriate that he found the tree, wasn't it?"
John nodded. That had been the last time that Bobby had been anywhere near healthy. He had been in a remission that lasted until February. After that, he went down hill quickly. Bobby never went to look for a Christmas Tree again. Now, Chase was unable to look. "I guess it's only right that Chase found the tree last year."
"Mother told me that Chase will be coming to the house on Christmas Day."
"Not Christmas Eve?" The family always got together on Christmas Eve. Well, most of them got together. John had not gone last year, or the year before. Last Christmas Eve he had spent with Anna. The Christmas Eve before that he had spent with Abby. That was the Christmas Eve that he was supposed to take Dennis over to the house, then Abby was suddenly free and he had the chance to be with her. Dennis told him that he really didn't feel like celebrating anyway. John still wondered if things would have turned out differently for Dennis if he had told Abby he had made plans and then stuck to them.
"No. Mother said that since you can never get away from work on Christmas Eve, that she might as well move the celebration to Christmas Day. Besides, Barbara's flight from Paris doesn't get in until late Christmas Eve."
"She's coming home for Christmas this year?" Barbara was even worse than he was about wanting to avoid the family get-togethers.
"Your mother told her it was about time she found her way across the Atlantic to spend time with her family. Your grandparents aren't going to live forever, despite what Father may think."
"No one lives forever, Dad. I think I see a good tree over there." John walked away and Roland slowly followed him. The scare the family had all received when John was nearly assaulted and beaten had made them all realize just how precarious life really was. Barbara was determined to see her brother, especially since he had not wanted her to fly in while he was in the hospital. This would be a year when everyone would be home for Christmas and Roland hoped and prayed that everything went well. So far, his father had been subdued in his attempts to find an heir for his empire. Roland hoped that lasted through the Christmas festivities. The last thing in the world that John needed right now was to have his grandfather pressure him to give up being a doctor just so he could go into business. Roland's other worry was his own brother, Branch, and Branch's wife, Mary. He and Branch had not really spoken that much since Chase's overdose, so he had no idea if they blamed John for Chase's condition. At least his parents had come to realize that John was not to blame for merely doing what Chase had asked. Roland had wanted to be able to speak with his brother, but Branch was in the Far East again and wouldn't be arriving until Christmas Eve. His flight was due to arrive an hour before Barbara's. Roland had already volunteered to pick them all up that night. Hopefully, he would be able to talk with Branch and Mary before Barbara's flight landed.
"I think this tree is it, Dad." John said as he circled the tree, looking for any flaws.
It occurred to Roland then just how stupid it was that his imperfect family always insisted on the perfect tree. Maybe it was time to change that tradition. "I think you just might be right, John. It's a perfect tree. But, you know what? That tree over there looks like it could use some lights and decorations."
John looked at the tree his father was walking over to. It wasn't perfectly shaped; some of the limbs were scraggily. There were a few thin spots and its trunk was slightly crooked, making it appear as if the tree was about to break in half. "You like that tree?"
Roland nodded his head, "Yes, I do. Once it has lights and decorations on it, you won't be able to notice that it's not perfect."
"It looks like it's going to break in half, Dad. I don't any amount of decorations can hide that."
"You'd be surprised what your mom and grandmother can do with decorations. You should have seen some of the trees we were able to afford back when your mom and I first got married. They were the rejects on the lot. Your mom made them beautiful."
"We always had nice trees. Okay, I suppose that it won't be too bad once it's fixed up, but what's grandfather going to say?"
"Who cares? If he wants a perfect tree that badly, he can come out here and pick it out himself. Since he asked for us to get the tree, he can just live with what we choose."
"It's not tall enough for the foyer."
"No, but it's perfect for the living room."
"We never put the tree in the living room."
"So, we'll start putting it there this year. Where does Kerry have her tree?"
"In the living room."
"See? That's where normal families put their trees, son."
"Dad, we're not a normal family."
"Maybe it's about time we at least began to pretend that we are. Hold it steady for me."
John reached through the branches and held the tree steady while his father chopped it down. He wasn't sure what was going on with his father. Why on earth would the man want a tree that looked like this? They always brought back perfect trees. It just didn't make sense to him and he wasn't looking forward to what was going to happen when they appeared at the house with this tree.
"I think that we should drag it out and not carry it," Roland said.
"Dad, my shoulder is healed. It won't hurt me to carry the tree."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. Besides, if we drag this through the snow, it just might lose the few branches it has left."
"If you can't say anything nice about my tree, then just don't say anything at all."
"You must have been watching "A Charlie Brown Christmas". Is that what this tree is all about? The real meaning of Christmas?"
Roland shook his head, "No. At least I don't think so. What this tree is all about is that I'm tired of the hypocrisy of being sent out to bring cut down a perfect tree just so an imperfect family can sit around it and peck each other until blood is drawn. The Carters aren't perfect, so why should their tree be that way?"
"Dad, are you feeling okay?"
"I've never felt better, son. Let's get this tree back to the house."
Still feeling a little stunned by what his father had said and done, John lifted up his end of the tree and followed his father through the woods and to his grandparents' house.
Jenny and Millicent Carter managed to keep from laughing as John and Roland brought the tree into the house. The same could not be said for Robert Carter. He stood in the doorway to the living room, took one look at the pitiful evergreen and burst out laughing.
"That has got to be the worst excuse for a Christmas Tree that I've ever seen. Oh, what a good joke, Roland. Now, where's the real tree?"
"Father, this is the real tree. I'm sure that once it's decorated, it will look just fine."
The two men stared at each other for a few moments before Robert spoke again, "This tree is not large enough for the foyer."
"It will be perfect for the living room. John, can you please take the tree stand in there?"
"Sure, Dad." John picked up the tree stand and carried it into the living room, followed by his mother and grandmother.
"John, is your father serious?"
"Gamma, we had the perfect tree picked out, honest. Then he saw that one and he just had to have it. He said something about how hypocritical it was for our imperfect family to always insist on a perfect Christmas Tree. Mom, has he been feeling okay lately? Been under any undue stress? Sick with a cold? Anything?"
Jenny shook her head, "I think that your father is finally getting back to normal, son."
"I hope that they don't get into an argument over this," Millicent said as she looked around the room for the right place to put the tree. "John, put the stand over by the window. It will just have to do."
"I think we can make it look nice. If we use a lot of lights and then hang the icicle strands on it after the decorations are on, it won't look so sparse," Jenny said.
"Dad said that the two of you would be able to make it look great."
"Did he now? Well, I have news for him; this is a job that will take more than two people. Your father can just get in here and help decorate this tree," Millicent said.
"I'll help him with the tree." John went back out to the foyer to help his father bring the tree in. When he got there, he noticed that neither man was speaking, they were just staring at the tree.
"Dad, we can take the tree in there now."
"Great."
Together they got it into the living room and into the stand. It was just as bad looking inside the house as it had been in the woods. Millicent and Jenny moved it around until they found a good side, and that was the side that faced the room. While they were doing that, the butler brought in the boxes of decorations. Since this tree was smaller than the usual Carter Christmas Tree, he knew that there were more decorations than could be used. But, he wasn't going to be the one to decide which ones to use. No, that would be up to the Carters themselves. It promised to be a most interesting afternoon though and he looked forward to hearing the arguing that would ensue as the family decorated the tree. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a family fight.
"Shall I get the drinks, Madam?" He asked Millicent.
"Yes, please. Wait. On second thought, perhaps we would be better off with hot cocoa."
"I think that would be great. I'm still freezing," John said.
"As long as I can have mine with a splash of whiskey, I really don't care."
John smiled at his grandfather, thinking that some things never changed. His grandfather claimed to be able to drink anything as long as it had a "splash of whiskey" in it.
"Hot cocoa it is then." The butler slowly shook his head as he went to the kitchen, knowing that the cook would not believe this request. The Carters never, ever, had cocoa while decorating the Christmas Tree. Come to think of it, the Carters hardly ever had cocoa period.
Hours later, the tree was decorated. It still looked as if it was going to break in half, perhaps ever more so since it was loaded with decorations. Yet, the tree looked as if it belonged in the room.
"I almost hate to say this, son, but the tree looks pretty damn good."
Millicent smiled at her husband, glad that he had found it in his heart to praise their son.
Roland nodded, "Thanks, Dad. It does look pretty good, doesn't it?"
Jenny put her arms around her husband, "I think the two of you did a great job picking out our tree for this year."
"Oh, I'm not done yet. We still need a tree for our house."
"I'm not sure I can handle decorating another tree today," John said.
"Me, either," Jenny agreed.
"Well, what about tomorrow? What's your schedule like?" Roland asked John.
"Same as today. I don't have to be in until six." John glanced at his watch, "Speaking of which, we need to leave now or I'll be late."
They all said their good-byes, and then Roland drove into the city.
Jenny looked back at John, "Your grandmother was telling me that you haven't been to see Chase."
John nodded, "I just haven't had much time to get over there and it's not that accessible by the El."
"You could always go on and get a new Jeep, John," Roland said, glancing in the rear view mirror to look at his son.
"I haven't really made up my mind what kind of vehicle I want to get yet. I'll see Chase on Christmas Day."
"She told me that Chase misses you."
"I'm surprised that he notices when I'm not there," John softly said.
"That's not true and you know it. Weren't you the one who was fighting so hard for Chase to stay at the Institute because you thought he could improve if given more time?"
"So, I was wrong, Mom. It was nothing but wishful thinking on my part. Chase is a vegetable and he will never get any better. Never. It's time that we all just accept that and get on with life."
"Son, I think that we all have accepted what happened to Chase and realize that he will never be the same as he was before the overdose. It just seemed that you were the only one who went out of your way to help Chase."
"Oh, I helped him all right, Dad. It's my fault that he's the way he is."
"Your grandparents didn't really mean it when they blamed you for keeping quiet about Chase's addiction." Roland still felt a little anger that his parents had attacked John about that.
"I wasn't talking about that. I was the one who revived him, knowing that he had been without oxygen for so long. It was a stupid mistake on my part, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm the one responsible for his present condition."
They had come to a halt at a stoplight and John could see a train station a few blocks away. "There's no need for you to drive all the way to the hospital. I'll just get out here and take the El."
Before either Roland or Jenny could complain or stop him, John had grabbed his backpack and was out of the car. "I'll call you once I get up tomorrow and we can get the tree for the house. Bye."
John shut the car door and rushed off through the rush hour crowd.
"Damn." Roland said as the light turned green and he had to proceed or end up blocking traffic.
Jenny put a comforting hand on his arm, "I know, hon. We just need to give him time."
"How much more time does he need, Jenny? Another month? Another year? If seeing Dr. McIntyre is doing him any good, then I certainly can't see it."
"The important thing is that John is still seeing him. Our family is so screwed up that it's going to take more than a month of therapy to help him."
"I wish I could turn back time and change things for him. For us."
"Hindsight is great, but we can't go back. All we can do is try our best to not make the same mistakes now."
"I'm trying."
"I know. We all are. Even your father was trying to be nice tonight. You know, I haven't heard him say anything about John joining the family business for a long time, a really long time."
"Maybe it finally sank into his head that John is happy as a doctor."
"I hope so."
"The tree does look nice, didn't it?" Roland smiled at her.
Jenny laughed, "Yes, Roland, your tree does look nice. But, you will not pick out another just like it for our house, understood?"
"Understood. Not that it really matters. I don't think there's another tree that ugly in the woods."
"So, you're telling me that tree is one of a kind?"
He nodded, "Absolutely. I can guarantee you that there isn't another one like it in the entire Chicago area."
"God, I hope not."
Roland pretended to be hurt, "Hey, I thought you liked my tree."
"I do, now that it's decorated."
"You are a cruel woman, Jenny Carter."
Jenny smiled and ran her hand across his thigh, "Am I?"
"Well, maybe not so cruel. You know, I was thinking that once we get home, I might need your help in the shower."
"Oh really? Well, I hate to tell you this, but our house is back in that direction."
"I just haven't found a convenient place in which to turn around yet."
"Take your next right, then go straight until I tell you to turn again."
"Making me take another route, are you?" he grinned.
"Trust me. We'll be home before you know it."
As soon as John arrived at the hospital, he logged himself into the computer, then went to put his things away in his locker. Carol and Doug were in the lounge, drinking coffee and relaxing.
"How are the two of you this evening?" John asked.
"Just fine," Carol replied.
"We were discussing whether or not Mark is becoming serious about Dr. Lee," Doug said with a grin.
"Has he taken her out to dinner again?"
"Third time this week. Although, he claims that the second time was her treat, and that their dinners are just like briefing meetings to keep her up to speed on what's happening in the E.R." It was apparent that Doug didn't believe that for one minute.
"Doug, you have no reason not to believe him," Carol admonished him.
"Carol, he's been staying with us, for how long now? At least a week, so I think I can tell what's on his mind where the good Dr. Lee is concerned. It's about damn time that Mark found himself a good and decent woman."
"I thought that Dr. Greene had his own place. Didn't he move into Dr. Lewis' old apartment?" John looked as confused as he felt.
"They're doing Asbestos removal in his building so he's staying with us until it's done," Carol explained.
"Yeah, a few nights quickly turned into a week. Next thing we know, Mark will be getting his mail at our place."
Carol playfully punched Doug in the arm, "That's not a nice thing to say. Mark has been a good house-guest and I'm sure he would return the favor if you needed a place to stay."
"I know he would. I guess I'm just missing the spontaneity of being alone with you." Doug leaned across the table to kiss her.
"I think I'll go check to see what's on the board." John said as he left, wondering if the happy couple even heard him.
It was turning out to be another slow night in the E.R. The citizens of Chicago who were out doing their Christmas shopping were obviously doing it safely. No car accidents. No beatings. No hit and runs. So far, the most serious case they had to deal with was a ten-year-old with a rash, and Doug and Conni were finishing up with him. Malik was engrossed in his Christmas list, marking off who he had already bought gifts for and then adding more names. Lilly and Carol were playing against each other in a computer game. Kerry was in the lounge, typing a report on her laptop and staying out of everyone's hair. Jerry, John and Lucy were playing cards and the men were not having an easy time of it.
"Gin," Lucy said as she laid her cards out on the desk.
"Aw, man, that's the fourth time you've won," Jerry complained as he laid his cards down.
John put his cards on the desk as Lucy began to count up her points. "I think that I am now completely out of money."
"That's okay. I can loan you some," Lucy said. "That's a total of ten dollars each that you guys owe me. Want to play again?"
Jerry frowned as he saw the eager look on her face, "I don't know. Every time I think I have a chance to earn some of my money back, you end up winning."
"Oh, go for it, Jerry. It's only money after all."
"Hah. That's easy for you to say, Dr. C, you're already broke. Okay, deal me in."
"Dr. Carter?" Lucy looked questioningly at him as she began to shuffle the cards, "Are you in?"
"I'm out. I think I'll go get a cup of coffee."
As Lucy began to deal, John went into the lounge. Kerry was still busy with her computer.
"Are you making any headway on your report?" he asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
"I gave up on that and decided to play Solitaire instead. I take it that things are still quiet out there?"
"Too quiet. Would you like some more coffee?"
"Sure. Thanks." She handed her cup to him and he filled it, then placed it on the table.
John held the pot up to eye level, "There's not enough in here for another cup. I guess I'm stuck with making a fresh one." He poured the remains down the drain, then began to make a fresh pot of coffee.
"So, how did the Christmas Tree hunt go?"
"Not too bad. Dad picked out the tree and did the hard work of chopping it down. All I had to do was help him carry it out of the woods and to the house."
"How's your shoulder feeling?"
"It's okay. A little sore, but nothing I wouldn't expect. My Dad wants me to go with him tomorrow to get a tree for his house."
"Well, I'm glad we already got our tree."
"Kerry, it's a fake tree, there wasn't much to do to get it."
"I know, but at least it's up and it won't drop needles all over the floor."
"I guess I'm just spoiled. I like the smell of a live tree."
"But, your family has always had the opportunity to get the freshest tree possible. Those out on the lots have been sitting there for weeks and aren't at their freshest."
"Next year, I'll take you out to the woods and you can pick out your own fresh tree. Heck, I'll even chop it down for you."
"I'll consider that."
John smiled, "Good. Well, I think I'll head back out there before Lucy takes all of Jerry's money."
"Gambling isn't allowed on the hospital premises."
"I'll be sure to remind them about that."
Kerry grinned, "See that you do."
John went back to the admit desk. Lucy was putting the cards away.
"Looks like we have a patient," she said.
"It's about time," John replied.
Carol walked up to them and handed a chart to John. "Head lac in exam two."
"Lucy, shall we?" John gestured for her to precede him down the hallway.
The patient was a middle-aged man, dressed in a suit and sporting a nasty gash along the side of his head.
John looked down at the chart, "So, Mr. Hayes, it states here that you tripped and cut your head on your steps?"
"Yeah. I was comin' home from my office Christmas Party. I was almost to the porch when the damn steps moved on me. Guess I had a little too much to drink."
"Just how much did you drink tonight?" John asked as Lucy rolled the suture tray over to the patient.
"Oh, about a bottle or so of wine. And a few whiskey shots. Not much really."
"Well, it's enough, Mr. Hayes. Lucy, we'll need to get a blood alcohol count on him to determine if he's going to get any painkillers. He also needs to take a trip down to x-ray for a complete skull series. Mr. Hayes, Ms. Knight will clean the wound and stitch it closed for you, then after she takes your blood, she'll take you down to x-ray."
"I'm gonna need stitches? Doc, I do not like needles. Isn't there something else you can do?"
"Sorry, you are definitely going to need stitches." John stepped closer to him in order to inspect the wound and he suddenly caught a whiff of the man's aftershave. John froze as he recognized the scent as being the same as the one that Dan Litvak wore.
"Hey, doc, you all right?" Mr. Hayes reached out and touched John's arm. It was then that John lost the battle of keeping his memories at bay.
"Please don't hurt me," he whispered, his eyes wide and scared.
"Dr. Carter, are you all right?" Lucy took a step toward him, but he quickly backed away from her, shaking his head.
"No. Don't. Please don't."
"Lady, what the Hell is wrong with him?" Mr. Hayes demanded, feeling alarmed at this turn of developments.
"I don't know, Mr. Hayes, but things will be much easier if you just keep quiet and let me handle this." Lucy returned her attention to her teacher. "John, I'm not going to hurt you. No one here is going to hurt you. You know me. I'm your student, Lucy Knight. Remember? Why don't you come with me to someplace where you'll be safe?"
"Go with you?" John's voice was shaky and he sounded unsure about her question.
"Yes. I can take you to someplace safe. I won't hurt you, John."
"There is no place that's safe," he murmured.
"I know of a place. It's just one room away." Lucy blinked hard to keep the tears from coming. It hurt her to see John like this. She was used to her teacher being confident and sure, not acting scared and almost child-like.
Lucy held out her hand, "You know that I won't hurt you. Please come with me."
John slowly nodded, somehow knowing that Lucy would not harm him, but still confused as to why he felt he would be in danger if he stayed in that room. He looked over to the exam table, expecting to see Dan Litvak sitting there leering at him. He had been there a minute ago, but now all he saw was some pathetic drunk, bleeding from his head and looking very scared. At that moment his reality shifted once more and he knew where he was and what he had been doing.
John took a shuddering breath, "Lucy, it's all right. I'm okay. Take care of the patient." John managed to talk to Lucy without looking directly at her. He knew that he would see pity in her eyes and he didn't think he could bear that. Not tonight. He hurriedly left the exam room and headed straight out through the ambulance bay doors. The cold wind seemed to rush at him from every direction, but instead of feeling chilled, he felt more fully awake.
John leaned back against the building, staring out into the blackness beyond the ambulance bay. His cheeks felt hot and he knew he was red with embarrassment. How could he have allowed something like that to happen in front of a patient? It didn't really matter that the patient was probably too drunk to remember the incident, it was still embarrassing. And why did it have to happen in front of Lucy? Now she was going to be just like all the others who were watching him, wondering about when and where he would next break down. Well, how about the suture room? Or better yet, he could just lose it completely in a trauma situation.
A movement to his left caught his attention and he turned his head slightly to watch Doug approach him.
"Don't you think it's a little on the cold side to be standing around out here?"
"I'm not cold," John replied.
Doug nodded, then looked up at the sky, trying to find some neutral topic of conversation. "Looks like we're in for a clear and cold night."
"Snow would be nice."
"Spoken like a true northerner," Doug grinned, "Well, I'm freezing my ass off out here. Why don't you come back in with me?"
John shook his head.
Doug pulled off his coat and handed it to John. "At least put this on. I don't want Kerry biting my head off because I let you freeze out here."
"Thanks." John put on the coat, then watched as Doug headed back inside. Once he knew that he was once more alone, he leaned back against the building again. At first, he didn't realize that he was methodically banging his head against the wall. It was an old habit, one that he just couldn't seem to break. He remembered how when he was a child, he would bang his head against a wall, the floor, or even the ground until he drew blood. It scared his parents, who would then over react. That would make him feel guilty for scaring them and the guilt would lead to him feeling frustrated and helpless, which then resulted in him banging his head again. He thought how strange it was that things didn't really change that much. He still banged his head and he still scared his parents and everyone else around him. The only difference between now and his childhood was that now he stopped the banging before he drew blood. Not like Litvak, who had not stopped. "Stop thinking about that," he told himself. "It doesn't do you any good to think about that."
"Well?" Kerry anxiously asked as Doug returned to the admit desk.
"John doesn't want to come in yet."
"It's cold out there. Shouldn't someone make him come in?" Lucy asked. When John had left the exam room, Lucy had been right behind him and she had gone immediately to tell Kerry what had just happened.
"I made him put my coat on, so he should be all right for a little while. He didn't seem to want to talk about what happened, so I didn't ask."
Kerry nodded, then looked over at Lucy. "You should go back and finish up with Mr. Hayes. He needs x-rays."
"Dr. Carter already ordered those, plus he wanted a blood alcohol count since Mr. Hayes admitted he had been drinking, but really couldn't tell us how much he had drank."
"That's fine. I'm sure you can handle Mr. Hayes. Carol? Would you please assist Lucy?"
"Sure. Come on, Lucy."
"But, Dr. Carter is..."
Kerry cut her off, "He told you that he was okay. You need to go and take care of your patient. Now."
Lucy reluctantly walked with Carol back to Exam Two, hoping and praying that John was really okay.
Kerry took a step away from the admit desk toward the doors, then she turned to look at Doug. "If he's not back in here in ten minutes, then I want you, Malik and Jerry to bring him in."
Doug and Malik nodded, but Jerry looked doubtful. He didn't like having any of the doctors angry with him. You never knew when you just might need their help.
"But, what if he wants to stay outside?"
Kerry leveled her gaze at Jerry, who immediately knew he had lost this argument before she even replied.
"I don't care what he wants to do, Jerry. I want him back in here even if the three of you have to carry him. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly clear, Dr. Weaver," Jerry replied.
Kerry headed back into the lounge, but instead of taking her seat at the table, she went straight to the window. She placed her hand against the cold glass and stared out into the darkness, wishing that John was in her line of vision from this window. She stood still for a few minutes, wondering just what it had been that had triggered that reaction from John. Based on her own experience, she knew it could have been something innocent, like a word Lucy or the patient might have said. Or a smell, or even the sight of blood. It didn't matter that John had seen other head lacerations since he had returned to work. There were still times when seeing someone with a broken leg triggered Kerry's memories. Logically, she would have thought that treating rape victims would be catalyst for flashbacks, but that wasn't the case with her. It was the more mundane things: harsh breathing in her ear, the smell of something gone rancid, broken legs, the feeling of falling.
Kerry heard the door open and in the reflection of the window, saw John enter the lounge. He took off Doug's coat and put it away in Doug's locker, then took a seat on the couch, resting his head against the back. Kerry walked back to the table and sat down, bringing up her report on the screen.
"Cold outside?" she asked.
"A little. I'm sorry I walked out on a patient. It won't happen again."
"John, you don't have to make a promise like that. You and I both know that it could happen again. It wasn't anything you could control."
He shook his head, "I should have been able to control it."
"John, believe me, you can't always control when and where a flashback like that will happen. It's happened to me far too many times. Do you know what triggered it?"
He nodded, "Yeah. But, I'm okay now. I guess that Lucy is finishing up with him?"
"Yes. I asked Carol to help her. When is your next appointment with Dr. McIntyre?"
"Christmas Eve. Can you believe that? What a way to spend my morning before I have to work."
"You should tell him about this."
"Yeah."
"John, he's trying to help you, but you need to cooperate with him."
John eyed her suspiciously, "Have you been talking to him?"
"No. But, I think that I know you well enough to know that you are not being fully open with him. Am I right?"
"I answer all his questions, Kerry. That's all that matters. If you'll excuse me, I've got a headache now and I want to get a nap."
John left and Kerry simply stared at the computer screen. There had to be some way to get through to John, but she sure hadn't found it yet. It was apparent that no one else had either. There was one thing that Kerry knew; if someone didn't get through to him soon, then he would begin to fall apart. What she was most afraid of was that they wouldn't be able to put him back together. It was a prospect that scared her to death, and she said a short prayer to God for John to get better before that happened. "Please, God, make him whole once more. Please? We don't want to lose him. I don't want to lose him. Please help him."