Homeless Once More, Part Nine
By Cathy Roberts
glroberts@bigfoot.com


Jenny and Roland Carter followed Hugh McIntyre out of the waiting area and down the hallway.  They came to a stop outside a locked door and McIntyre punched in the code, then opened the door for them to enter the next hallway.  As they walked to John's room, Jenny couldn't help but let Dr. McIntyre know that she was not happy that John was on the locked ward.

"You said that you wouldn't lock him up", Jenny said.

"There have been a lot of changes since last night, Mrs. Carter.  I can't trust that he won't leave his room again."

"Dr. McIntyre, since Dan Litvak is dead, then he no longer has a reason to leave his room", she replied.

"A lot more happened other than the fact that he left his room last night.  He wanted to kill Litvak and might have accidentally killed someone else.  Luckily, Dr. Benton moves fast, so that didn't happen.  However, John did end up hurting himself this morning and I'm not willing to take the risk that he won't injure himself again, Mrs. Carter."

"Just how did he hurt himself?" Roland asked.

"John cut himself with a scalpel.  The wounds on his hand aren't deep, but the ones on his leg required stitches," McIntyre replied.  "We did need to sedate him in order to calm him down after your phone call.  The sedative was not strong enough to knock him out, but I believe that he was up most of the night and his exhaustion has caught up to him.  I'd like to speak with his co-workers to see if I can find out when he last ate.  He was slightly dehydrated, so I had an I.V. started."

Jenny looked as if she wanted to argue with him, but they had reached John's room and she was anxious to see her son.

When they entered John's room, his parents were surprised to see Peter Benton seated in the corner.  He merely nodded at them, then resumed watching John sleep.  John's parents saw that their son was paler than he had been last night.  They also didn't miss the I.V. in his arm, or the bandages on his hand.

Jenny stepped closer, touching her son ever so gently so she wouldn't awaken him.  "Where did these pajamas come from?"

"Kerry Weaver brought some of his clothes in this morning and the nurses dressed him."

"I should have thought of that", Jenny said.

"John will most likely sleep for several hours.  I really don't see any need for the two of you to be here.  It might be better for him if you went home and got some rest.  I know that neither one of you got much sleep last night", McIntyre recommended.

"I want to be here for him", Jenny stated.  "God knows I've never been there enough for him."

"I think that Dr. McIntyre is right.  We should get some sleep, then come back."  Roland took his wife by the hand, gently pulling her away from the bed.  She lingered by John's side long enough to give him a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"We should go now then.  The sooner we get home, the sooner we can be back here", she said.

"I'll walk to the elevators with you."

They left, leaving Benton alone in the room with John.  Benton took a deep breath, remembering how frightened John had been once they got him to the room, not wanting anyone, including the nurses, to touch him.  The only way they were able to get him dressed was for Benton to promise to stay in the room with him.  He had easily given that promise with the condition that he would have to go if Reese needed him.  John accepted that and allowed the nurses to put the pajamas on him.  It was only afterward that he was able to close his eyes.  For the first few minutes, just when Benton had thought he was asleep, John's eyes would suddenly open and look for him, as if he was making sure he wasn't left alone.  Finally, his eyes stayed closed.  Hopefully, he would sleep all morning.  Anspaugh had assured Benton that he could take all the time he needed with John; he himself would handle Benton's patients and scheduled surgeries.  And so Benton sat and watched.


Lucy needed coffee and lots of it.  She had spent most of her shift worrying about where John Carter had gone, only to then have to worry about what he was doing in Dan Litvak's office.  It was already all over the hospital that Dan Litvak had been found dead in his home.  It was all over the E.R. that John had named Litvak as his attacker.  Even though Lucy didn't really know a lot of her co-workers, she wasn't surprised at the way they had closed ranks against the rest of the hospital and even with the paramedics.  When asked about John, only the briefest answers were given.  There was no mention of the assault or the aftermath. No acknowledgement that a member of senior management had been his attacker.  Just a simple, 'he's doing much better, thanks for asking', end of conversation.

She entered the lounge, hoping that Dr. Doyle had left the last coffeepot intact.  Much to her surprise, Maggie Doyle stood at the window, looking outside.

"I thought that you went home, Dr. Doyle," she said as she poured herself a hot cup of coffee and sat down at the table.

"I'll be leaving soon," Doyle quietly replied.

Lucy looked over and could see that the resident's shoulders were shaking.  Was Doyle crying?

"Are you okay, Dr. Doyle?"  She got up and walked over to the window.

Doyle was crying as she nodded her head.  "I'll be fine, Lucy.  I'm just worn-out and tired, that's all."

"Everyone is.  I suppose that you heard about Dr. Litvak?"

"Oh, I heard all right."  Doyle began to cry harder and Lucy handed her a tissue from the supply that she had stashed in the pocket of her lab coat.

"John told me that he felt Dan Litvak was coming on to him.  He described several different situations in which he thought that Litvak was making a pass at him.  I told him that in my opinion, Dan Litvak wasn't gay or after him in any way.  I thought he was being homophobic and over-reacting.  How could I have been so wrong, Lucy?  How could I have told him that it was just his imagination?  I didn't even bother to ask him more detailed questions about what he thought had happened."

"Dr. Doyle, you had no way of knowing that something like this was going to happen.  Just because someone makes a pass at you, it doesn't mean that they will attempt to rape you."

"I know that, Lucy.  But, I ignored everything that John told me.  Do you know what Randi told me?  She said that it had been so obvious that Litvak was after John.  She had seen it.  She said that the minute she heard that John had been assaulted, her first thought had been that Litvak had done it.  Why was I so blind to what was happening to him?"

"Maybe it was something that you didn't want to see."

"Maybe.  He was so relieved when Litvak gave up the position of Chief of Emergency Services, but he didn't say anything else to me.  I guess that since I told him it was all in his head, he had come to believe that."

"I know that I haven't known any of you long, even Dr. Carter, who I work with every day.  But, I did notice when he became depressed and I noticed when he appeared to be coming out of that depression.  I really felt that things were going to be better from now on."

"Lucy, John was depressed before your rotation began."

"I've already heard about how he was in love with one of the other interns."

"And how she left with her former boyfriend?" Doyle shook her head, "I thought that Anna cared for John, I really did.  Despite my own attraction, I kept my distance because I could see how they felt about each other.  I didn't want to be the reason why they didn't get together.  They were right for each other, Lucy.  I still don't understand how she could have just packed up and left, knowing that she was breaking his heart."

"I suppose that she loved the other guy more."

"I suppose, although I have no idea how that would be possible.  John and Anna never consummated their relationship, but she screwed him over big time!"

It was becoming very obvious to Lucy that Doyle did not think very highly of the former intern.  Listening to how Anna Del Amico had broken John's heart made Lucy feel that she didn't like the woman too much either.  What surprised her was hearing that Doyle had been attracted to John.  It was obvious that she still had feelings for him.  Look at the way she had been so concerned when she was treating his shoulder after they found Mr. Nelson.  Lucy wondered if John was interested in Doyle?  She could easily recall their playful rivalry whenever they were on duty together and a trauma came in.  How John was always so quick to give Doyle that special smile of his.  The one that had never been directed Lucy's way until they went to find Nelson.  Now, she wondered if she would ever see him smile again.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you all this.  None of it is your problem, Lucy."  Doyle dried her eyes and blew her nose, then disposed of the tissue.

"I'm heading home now.  I just thank God that bastard is dead."

"You and everyone else who works down here," Lucy said, going back to finish her coffee and wondering if she would be able to get through the rest of her shift without breaking down.  She so desperately wanted to see John, to touch him.  To tell him that everything was going to be all right.  The mere thought that she might never again see him smile saddened her deeply.  To not see John Carter smile would be unthinkable.  Simply unthinkable.  "You are such a fool, Lucy Knight", she told herself.  "Never in a million years would he care about you.  You're his student and nothing more."


By noon, Jenny and Roland had returned.  John was still asleep and Benton was still there.  Jenny left to go to the cafeteria to get lunch for all three of them.  Roland grabbed the remaining chair and pulled it close to John's bed, then sat down, his heart heavy as he watched his son sleep.  If not for the horrible bruising on his face, it could have been said that John was sleeping peacefully.  Roland remembered how he used to check on Bobby and John hours after they had been sent to bed.  He would stand in the doorway of their room and watch them sleep, then do the same from Barbara's doorway.  It seemed as if those nights had happened a lifetime ago, and yet, here he was, once more watching his son sleep.  Once again wondering and worrying about what the future would hold for him.  He heard Benton shift positions in his chair and he remembered that he was not alone in there with John.

Roland wasn't sure what to say to Peter Benton.  John had mentioned him quite a bit over the years.  Not all of it had been good.  John had often felt frustrated by his former teacher.  On more than one occasion, John had shared his feelings that he was never quite sure if Benton even liked him.  Yet, Peter Benton had stayed by John's side all morning.  Roland had been surprised when he and Jenny had entered John's room that morning and saw Benton sitting there.  Roland said as much to Benton, then went on to explain, "John used to speak of you quite a bit, back when he was training to be a surgeon.  Once he switched to trauma, he didn't mention you anymore.  I never had the impression that the two of you were friends."

"It was my job to be his teacher, not his friend," Benton replied.

"I know.  John often told me that.  But, he also mentioned that he thought you needed a friend."

"John likes to think that he knows what's best for other people."

Roland nodded, "He does that a little too much, doesn't he?  He worries about others and cares about them and their problems.  I think he takes it very personally when someone won't open up to him and let him help."

Benton nodded his agreement with that statement.  "I think that's very true.  I used to accuse him of caring too much."

"So did I."

The two men were quiet for a few minutes, then Roland said, "So, knowing that you and John aren't friends, I find myself wondering why you're staying by his side right now."

Benton was often reluctant to discuss his own feelings, but now he could tell that he needed to share how he felt.  John's father and, John himself, deserved that much honesty right now.

"John has offered his hand out to me in friendship many times, and many times I've refused to accept that friendship.  Today I realized how wrong I had been to do that.  John needed a friend today, someone he could trust.  He chose to trust me and I promised that I would stay with him today.  It isn't a promise that I made lightly or for any ulterior motives.  I have always liked John, but I have never been interested in him in a sexual or romantic way."

"I wasn't trying to imply that you were, Dr. Benton.  I was simply trying to understand why you are here," Roland said. 'And why my son chose to trust you and not me,' he thought.

"Mr. Carter, I have a young son.  Reese is only a toddler, so I haven't had him for as long a time as you've had John, but I can assure you of one thing; if something like this happened to Reese then I would be suspicious of just about anyone who came near him.  We all want to protect out children from harm, even once they're grown.  I can't blame you for wanting to protect John."

"I wish I could truly be guilty of that, Dr. Benton.  I've spent so much effort running away from Chicago that I've overlooked the fact that I left something precious behind.  I realize that John has felt abandoned by us and I can't fault him for feeling that way."

Benton nodded, remembering the times when John should have been with his parents but had ended up alone.  He was thinking about his reply when he noticed that John was waking up.

Roland also noticed that his son was awakening.  John's good eye opened and he immediately turned his head toward Roland.  Much to Roland's disappointment, John's gaze swept past him to zero in on Peter Benton.  He felt hurt that Benton meant more to John than he did.  At that moment he understood what Jenny had been trying to tell him.  John wanted his family.  Since he couldn't have that, it was obvious that he was attempting to create a new family, one made up of his colleagues and not his relatives.  Roland prayed that it wasn't too late for him to make amends for the past and turn them into a family once again.  He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't hear John's question.

"I'm sorry, son.  What did you say?"

"Where's Mom?"

"She went down to the cafeteria to get us some lunch.  She should be back soon."

"Speaking of lunch, Dr. McIntyre wanted you to eat once you woke up," Benton said.

"I'm not hungry," John said.

"John, it's been a long time since you last ate.  You need to eat and get some fluids into your body.  We gave you an I.V. because you were slightly dehydrated," Benton said.

"I'll try to eat something."  John's throat was sore and it hurt every time he swallowed.  He knew it was going to hurt even worse if he had to swallow food.  He struggled to sit up, so Benton raised the head of the bed for him.

"Is that comfortable?" Benton asked.

John nodded, "I'm fine.  Thanks."

"You're welcome.  I'll go and get a tray for you."  Benton left.

Roland noticed that John was staring at him, but he waited for John to speak first.  Still, he wasn't quite prepared for what John had to say.

"Why did Kerry want you and her brother to put Litvak in her bathtub?"

"Excuse me?"

"I heard Kerry tell the two of you to put Litvak in the bathtub.  Why did she do that?"

"He was dead and she didn't want the paramedics to see him."

"Oh.  Did I kill him?"  John sounded hopeful.

Roland would have thought that John would have been worried over the possibility that me might have killed someone.  Then again, he had been waiting in Litvak's office this morning in order to kill him.  "No, son.  You didn't kill him.  I did.  It was an accident, but I did break his neck.  I should have told you last night, but you were asleep and I didn't want to wake you."

"I was awake when you snuck in here.  I didn't want to have to talk to you so I pretended to be asleep."  John looked confused as he asked, "If Litvak was dead and in Kerry's tub, then how did the police find him in his house this morning?  Were you lying to me about that?"

"I wasn't lying.  The police did find him at his house.  Let's just say that there are people who owe me favors and last night I called one of them in."

John was silent for a moment, then he asked, "You killed him?"

"Yes.  It was an accident.  I accidentally broke his neck."  Roland hoped that the information would sink into John's brain this time.

"He was dead all night?  I was so afraid of what he would do.  So afraid that he would..." John's voice faltered and Roland could see that he was struggling to keep from crying.  Why didn't he tell him last night?

John continued, "I went to his office to stop him.  I spent all that time waiting for that bastard to be arrested and he was dead.  Had been dead all that time.  All of that for nothing.  No reason for it.  No reason at all."  John gave up on trying not to cry.

"I'm so sorry, John.  I should have told you."  Roland was now crying also.  "When I saw you lying there and so still, with all that blood around you, I just snapped.  I grabbed him and threw him aside, not caring if I hurt him because I was afraid that he had killed you."

"I wish he had."

Roland was instantly on his feet.  "Don't you ever say that, John.  I couldn't stand losing you forever."

"How would you notice, Dad?  You and Mom are never here, so how could you possibly miss me?"

Those words and the hurt look on John's face cut him to the bone.  "Oh, God, Johnny, I am so sorry that you feel you have to ask me that.  I have never meant to make you feel unloved or unwanted.  I love you and I would be devastated if I should lose you.  When Bobby died, I was so scared that something would happen to you or Barbara.  I found schools with good reputations for academics, but most importantly, good reputations for safety.  Then you decided to take up sports.  Especially after your grandfather gave you Marigold.  I was so afraid that you would take up jumping.  I had nightmares where you were killed while jumping with that horse."

"I wanted you to be proud of me.  I thought that if I was good enough at wrestling or track or even dressage, that you and Mom would come to see me compete.  You never did.  Not even the year Marigold and I won all those blue ribbons.  The two of you were never there."

"We should have been there.  I'm sorry that we weren't."  Roland grabbed some tissues out of the box on the nightstand and handed one to John before drying his own eyes.  "I'm here now, son.  And I promise you that things will be different from now on.  I don't see any reason why I can't run the law practice from Chicago and take short business trips as needed.  I know your Mom wants to stay here."

"You'd do that for me?"

"I'm going to do it for all of us, John.  I know I can't change the past or even make up for all the times we weren't there, but I want us to be a family again.  I want to be there for you when you need me."

John remembered something that McIntyre had said to him once, but he didn't remember when.  "You were there when I needed you last night, Dad."

"I was stuck in traffic for close to thirty minutes.  If not for that, then I would have been there earlier."

"Dad, don't think like that.  You can't blame yourself for what happened.  I should have looked through the peephole before I opened the door."

"Hey, don't you start thinking like that, either.  You had no idea that Litvak was going to do what he did."

"No.  I knew that I didn't like having him near me."

"I know that talking about what happened is the last thing you want to do, but the police still need to get a statement from you before they can officially close the case."

"Will they ask me questions about last night?"

"I don't think so.  They just need you to officially identify Litvak as your attacker."

"I already did that."

"You have to tell the police, son.  But, it doesn't have to happen today or even tomorrow.  They can wait."

John pondered that, then shook his head, "No.  I don't think it will be any easier to do it later.  I can talk to them today."

"Well, it isn't all your decision to make.  If Dr. McIntyre doesn't think that you can handle it, then he won't allow it to happen."

"I can handle it, Dad."

Roland wasn't so sure about that.  John seemed coherent now, but he had not been that way throughout the entire conversation.  What if John told the police that Litvak had been put in the bathtub?

"I'm not the one you have to convince of that," Roland said.

If John had a reply to that, it would have to wait because Benton returned with a lunch tray for him.

"I'm afraid it isn't much.  Dr. McIntyre ordered an all liquid lunch for you."  Benton put the tray down on the bedside table, then rolled the table over to John.  He removed the cover, "It smells good and there is some gelatin, so I guess there is something there you can eat, even if it isn't solid."

The rest of the meal consisted of beef broth, hot tea and cold ginger ale.  It did smell good and John figured that it might not hurt so much to swallow liquids.  He managed to get a grip on his spoon and he began to eat his broth while Benton prepared the tea for him.

"Do you take sugar?" he asked.

"Yes, he does," Roland answered for his son.  Despite knowing Peter Benton's reasons for being there, Roland wished the man would either leave or go and sit quietly in the corner.  He reached over and opened the soda, pouring it into a cup of ice and adding a straw.

John looked from his father to Benton, then back at his father.  "I really do appreciate your help, but I'm not helpless.  I think I can handle tea and a soda."

"Sorry," Benton said.

"I wonder what's taking your mother so long?" Roland said.

"The cafeteria gets crowded around noon.  She'll be back soon," Benton said as he sat back down to wait for his lunch to arrive.

Roland remained standing by John's bed.  "Is there anything else I can get you?" he asked.

"No," John replied.  He swirled the spoon around in the bowl, not wanting to eat any more.  He had a suspicion that neither Benton nor his father would allow him to get away with only eating the small amount that he had managed to get down.  He put the spoon down and took a sip of ginger ale.  The cold liquid felt good to his throat, much better than the hot broth or tea had.  Besides, it made his hand ache to use the spoon.  He was still trying to figure out how he had hurt his hand.  He knew that it had not been injured last night, so that meant it had to have happened that morning.  John remembered leaving his room and going to the surgical floor.  He remembered selecting a scalpel and going into Litvak's office.  He even remembered Benton coming through the door.  The next thing he remembered after that was his father telling him over the phone that Litvak was dead.  Everything in between was a blur.  He also didn't remember much of what happened after that, except for Benton telling him that he wouldn't leave him alone.  He was afraid to ask about what had happened, not sure he would want to know the answers.

The door opened again and his mother entered the room, followed by Dr. McIntyre.  His mother smiled as she saw that he was awake.

"I'm sorry it took so long to get lunch," she said to Roland and Benton.

"No problem.  Dr. Benton said that it would be crowded down there."  Roland helped her empty the tray, passing Benton's food over to him.

"Thanks.  It's been a long time since I had breakfast."

"You're welcome," Jenny said.

Roland gestured for her to take his seat, then he passed her lunch to her.

Jenny smiled once again at her son, "It's good to see you awake."

John merely nodded.  In his opinion, the room was getting too crowded."

"How's your lunch?" she asked.

"Wet," he replied.

"I'll order something more substantial for your dinner," McIntyre said.  "I'll have the nurse bring you a menu and order sheet so you can select your meals for tomorrow.  Once this I.V. bag is empty, we'll discontinue the fluids."

McIntyre addressed the others, "I hate to interrupt your lunch, but I need to speak with John privately.  You can go out to the waiting area or down to the patient lounge.  Since it's lunch time, it will be empty because the patients have to eat in their rooms."

Within minutes, the only two people left in the room were John and Hugh McIntyre.

"How long will I have to stay here?" John asked.

"Here on the psychiatric ward or here in the hospital?"

"Both."

"Well, I'm not responsible for assessing your physical condition, so I can't give you an answer as far as your total hospital stay is concerned."

"Can you at least tell me what's wrong with me?"

"You have a severe concussion from two separate blows to the head.  The blow you received on your forehead required stitches, the one on the back of your head did not.  You have an orbital fracture of your left eye, another anterior dislocation of your shoulder, fractured ribs and numerous cuts and contusions.  You have a few cuts on your thigh that required stitches and some cuts on your hand, which did not.  You will need arthroscopic surgery on your shoulder and that has already been scheduled for three weeks from now in order to give the swelling time to diminish.  You are most likely experiencing some confusion and memory lapses due to the concussion.  However, you might also be experiencing the same symptoms as a result of the post traumatic stress that often effects victims of sexual assault.  I need to try to determine the cause of your memory lapses.  Once I see that you're behaving in a reasonable and coherent manner, I can have you moved to another room."

"This isn't the same room I was in before, is it?"

"No, it's not.  I'm not anxious to have you repeat your disappearing act."

"Since Litvak is dead, I don't think there's any risk of that happening."

"I'm not entirely convinced of that, John.  There's also the fact that the cuts on your hand and thigh were self-inflicted."

John looked surprised at hearing that and McIntyre realized that John had not remembered doing that to himself.

"I did that?"

"You did.  You don't remember that, do you?"

"No."  John pushed the bedside tray away, tired of pretending to be interested in his lunch.

"Are you finished with that?"

"Yeah, I'm full."

"I'll send a nurse in to take it away."

"Dad told me that the police want to speak with me."

"That's correct.  They need a statement from you.  Do you feel that you can handle that right now?"

John nodded, "Yes.  I want to go on and get it over with."

"I'll call and let them know that you can speak with them today.  I'll remain in here with you while they're here.  That way, if things get too intense for you, I can make them leave."

"Whatever."

"Do you have a regular physician that I can call to come and check you over?  If not, then I can get one of the doctors on staff to be your physician while you're here."

"No, I don't have anyone.  Would it be possible to have Dr. Greene see me?  I know that he's a trauma doctor, but I feel comfortable with him.  If not him, then maybe Dr. Benton?"

"I'll ask.  I don't see where it should be a problem though, provided that Dr. Greene agrees to it."

"Will you ask him for me?"

"Sure.  I'll take care of it.  I think that Dr. Greene is an excellent choice.  I'll also make arrangements for you to see an ophthalmologist about your eye so we can make sure there's no serious or permanent damage."

"Okay."

"Are you in a lot of pain?  We can give you a mild painkiller if you need it."

"I'm a little sore, but not in any pain.  Right now I'm just tired."

"Then I'll go and check to see if Dr. Greene can be your physician.  I'll let your parents know that you'll be sleeping."

"Thanks."

"If you need anything at all, just call the nurse and ask her to get me."

"I will."

McIntyre left and John adjusted the bed to a comfortable level for sleeping.  It felt good to finally be alone in the room.  It was odd how his parents couldn't be bothered to stay in Chicago before and now they wouldn't leave him alone.  He couldn't come right out and tell them to go away, could he?  If he did that, then they might just go away forever, despite what his dad had promised.

John closed his eyes, then realized that his bladder was full and he would never get to sleep unless he emptied it.  He slowly got out of bed, all too aware of his sore and aching muscles.  The stitches in his leg pulled and he wondered how it was possible that he hadn't noticed any discomfort there earlier.  He grabbed his I.V. pole and rolled it into the bathroom.  While taking care of his business, he realized what an inconvenience it was to have to deal with an I.V. line.  Didn't other patients find it to be a hassle?  If so, he never heard their complaints.  Then again, he never heard any complaints as far as comfort went.  The nurses usually heard those and then took care of the patients accordingly.  He checked to see how much remained in the I.V. bag and decided that since he didn't need another and he had consumed some liquid at lunch that he could just go on and discontinue the I.V. himself.

He carefully pulled out the I.V. needle, surprised at how much blood there was.  He grabbed some toilet paper and was able to move his left hand enough to press the paper against the injection site and put pressure there to stop the bleeding.  The blood that had dripped down onto the white toilet caught his attention.  His mind immediately recalled an image of blood against a white table.  Instead of the antiseptic smell of the bathroom, he was smelling Litvak's cologne, making him feel violently ill.  He dropped to his knees and hugged the toilet with his good arm while he was sick over and over again, his body finally shaking from dry heaves.  Feelings of fear and helplessness overcame him and he began to pray just as he had the night before.  "Please God, don't let this happen.  Please stop him.  Oh, God, please stop him."

Since McIntyre had told him that John was napping, Benton made sure he was extra quiet as he returned to the room.  He was a little concerned when he saw that the bed was empty, but then he heard a noise from the bathroom and he figured that John was all right.  He sat down to wait for John to come back out.  Then he thought he heard the sound of someone being sick and he once more became concerned.  He went to the bathroom door to listen, not wanting to disturb John if he didn't have to.  John was definitely vomiting.  Benton began to open the door as he heard John talking out loud, begging for God to stop someone.  It was clear that John was having some sort of a flashback and Benton hurried into the bathroom.  John was huddled on the floor next to the toilet, his eyes closed.  There was a little bit of blood on his arm from where he had removed his I.V.  A quick glance at the end of the I.V. tubing told Benton that John had done that correctly and had not broken the needle.  Benton knelt down a few feet away from John.

"John?  Open your eyes and look at me."

John obeyed him, looking at him with eyes full of despair.

"Are you feeling well enough to make it back to the bed?"

John nodded, then used the toilet as leverage to help him get to his feet.  Benton could see that he was unsteady, but he was reluctant to try to help him.  John had not reacted well the first time that Benton had touched him that morning.  Still, it was clear that John would not make it to the bed under his own power.

"John, let me help you."  Benton slowly stood, but didn't approach him until John nodded his consent.

Benton moved to John's right side and firmly took hold of his arm.  "Lean on me if you need to," he said as they walked out of the bathroom.  By the time they reached the bed, John was leaning very heavily against Benton, but he was insistent about getting into bed with minimal assistance.  Benton tucked covers in around him, then hit the call button for the nurse.

"I want you to try to drink some of this."  Benton held the soda can so that John could take a few drinks from the straw.  "Just a little more.  That's good."  Benton put the can back on the table as the nurse arrived.

"I need some antiseptic and a bandage.  You can go ahead and remove his I.V. stand.  It's in the bathroom.  I'll take care of cleaning up in there."

"Yes, Dr. Benton."  The nurse went to the bathroom and retrieved the I.V. stand, then left.

"You really don't have to stay here," John said.

"I promised you that I would and I have no intention of breaking my word," Benton sat down in the chair closest to the bed.

"Did you really mean what you said to my dad about being my friend?"

Benton couldn't help but smile slightly at finding out that John had been faking being asleep earlier.  "You need to quit listening to other people's conversations."

"I couldn't help it.  You both just happened to be in my room.  So, did you really mean it?"

"Yeah, John, I meant everything I said.  Now, why don't you really go to sleep?  You need the rest."

"I knew I wasn't wrong about you," John muttered as he closed his eyes.  And Benton was left once more to watch John Carter sleep.

Chapter Ten

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