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------------------------------------- Chapter Ten: Anything Good -------------------------------------

Never said I was innocent

I will burn in hell for the things I've done to you

Never said I was anything good

I should die from the shame from what I've put you through

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Dave's worst enemy: the alarm clock. And he treated it as such, muttering obscenities at it and pounding his fist upon it, doing so a few times before it finally shut off. He rolled over onto his stomach, mock-sobbing into his pillow at the thought of being roused from his bed for yet another day at Cook County. Another day of vomit, piss, blood and pus. Oh, joy.

He glanced to the other side of the bed to see that John Carter was still sleeping. Figures that he wouldn't wake up to the alarm; John slept as if he were in a coma most nights. It was a vast contrast to how Dave slept, however: waking up to the slightest sound, save for the times when he was stuck in a nightmare, which happened more often than not.

Last night hadn't even been the worst he'd ever had. John had yet to experience one when instead of just screaming, Dave woke up thinking he was still lost in the nightmare, taking sometimes ten full minutes of fighting and hysteria before the images faded from his eyes and he realized he was safe in his apartment, several long miles and several long years away from the memories that haunted his dreams.

He sighed, raising his head from the pillow as he squinted his eyes to focus on the numbers on the clock. Six AM. Too early, too damn early. And his head felt like it was pulsating, but it was nothing he hadn't experienced before: party head, morning-after head, whatever you wanted to call it, it was still the same thing. Jesus, he really wished right about now he hadn't taken those Dexedrine yesterday, but all he had wanted to do was forget, and it'd felt too good to be right, and - as he thought last night - all he'd wanted to do was be wrong.

And forgotten he had. He could barely remember any of last night's events, except for a hazy memory of sobbing out his eyes in John's arms after waking from that nightmare. God, how embarrassing. Next thing you knew, he'd be crying during sex. On that note, Dave turned to glance at his companion, and saw that John was still here, so that had to mean he hadn't done anything *that* bad.

Rising from his bed, Dave's feet made contact with the disgusting carpet as his eyes moved over the disgusting walls. God, he hated this place, but then again he hated everything about his life...well almost everything, he thought, glancing back to look at the peacefully sleeping John. He could never let himself forget how lucky he was to have John in his life, because he certainly didn't deserve him. He began to walk to his bathroom, trying to be quiet so he wouldn't wake John but failing to do so when he tripped over the sleeping cat, nearly killing himself and it. He cursed silently as Kermit screeched, briefly glancing back to see John stirring but not waking.

"Sorry, Furface," he whispered to Kermit, squatting down to look under the bed, where the cat had scurried under. He hissed at Dave, who only rolled his eyes in response as he stood upright. "Jeeze, I said I was sorry."

He crossed the hall to the bathroom, turning on the shower. Brush teeth, shave face, relieve yourself, all while the water slowly warms up to your liking, Dave thought to himself. Then he rubbed his aching head. Oh, and take a couple aspirins too.

Finished with those quick tasks, he stepped inside the shower, already naked from the night before. The water was warm and soothed his aching head, and just when he thought today might not be so bad, the water stopped without Dave touching the controls, and when it started up again after a slight rumbling sound, the Junior Resident was hit with a refreshing blast of ice-cold water.

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Let me be the one to bring us back from the dead

I will take the blame for everything

You know I just wanna help you forget

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There was a squeaking sound, as if someone ran their hand quickly over something wet, a scream, a thud, a string of obscenities, another scream, this one more like one of frustration, a brief silence, and then: "I *hate* this fucking place!!"

John Carter dared to venture out of bed, quickly but warily crossing the bedroom to the bathroom, where the source of the screams was coming from. He entered to find Dave beginning to stand from the shower floor, and when he realized just what had happened, he tried to compress his laughter, but failed to do so.

"Yes, I fell in the shower," Dave snapped grumpily. The sudden spray of cold water had surprised him so much he'd tried to turn away from it, but had instead slipped and fallen down right on his butt. He glanced up at John, who was snickering as he tried to bite back his laughter. "Ha, ha, so funny. I could've died, you know."

"Don't be so dramatic," John said, approaching the younger man, still smiling but not laughing.

"You could've come in here and found me with a broken neck," he went on to say, rubbing his sore ass, "and you would've laughed."

"If I found you with a broken neck," John said, chuckling, "I hardly think I'd be laughing."

"You're laughing now," Dave pointed out angrily.

"You don't have a broken neck, do you?" John asked, bringing Dave into his arms. He held the younger man close to him for a few moments, glad that he *didn't* have a broken neck, before pulling back slightly to look into those beautiful brown eyes that held more secrets than John would ever know. John smiled softly, then placing a gentle kiss on Dave's lips. He pulled away once more. "Good morning."

"Yeah," Dave scoffed, tossing John a look. "Such a good morning it's been so far. I hate this fucking place."

"So I heard," John said. Then he suggested, "Why don't you get a better one?"

"I'm a resident, remember?" he asked John, his hands resting on John's waist as John's arms draped over his shoulders. "As if I can afford a better one?"

"*We* can," John said quietly, watching Dave carefully for a reaction. Dave narrowed his eyes, glancing at John suspiciously but offering no comment, his expression indifferent. "Well...we practically live together already...and I think it's about time I move out of my family's house."

Still no reply, but, watching the Junior Resident carefully, John noted that he seemed to be mulling the thought over as he glanced around the apartment. Okay, so he wasn't sure whether he'd expected Dave to agree or not, but he certainly hadn't prepared himself for the latter. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea he'd ever come up with, he thought morosely. But when Dave turned back to John, a smile slowly spreading across his face, he could see that it clearly was.

"So." John pressed, and he prayed that Dave said what he wanted him to. If not, he knew he'd be seriously crushed. God, John thought incredulously. It was like he was a teenager again, yearning for the attention of his high school crush. He'd never felt this way with any other lover he'd ever had. It was exciting and scary at the same time. "...What do you say?"

"I say," Dave said, grinning, "I can't wait to get out of this place."

"So...that's it?" John asked hesitantly. "You're just...happy that you're moving?"

"Well, yeah," Dave teased, keeping his tone serious, knowing that John thought moving was the *only* reason he was glad and not the fact that the two would be living together. He saw the Chief Resident's face fall, and the devil in him had to continue teasing, compressing his smile as best he could while saying: "I mean, I get this big new apartment all to myself, and you're going to pay for it."

John shoved him playfully, smiling. "You're a jerk."

"Come on, John. You really think I'm that shallow?" Dave asked, clasping John's hands in his own. He need to make sure that John knew he was *only* teasing, and hadn't been serious at all. This was important to him. "I could care less about another apartment. Sure, it's great, but...it'll be twice as great with you there. This shithole I live in is twice as great with you *here*. I...I actually look forward to coming home knowing that you're...that you're going to be here. The point is: we're going to be...together, and I...God, I'm not good at this. Is this coming out right?"

"It's coming out perfectly," John replied softly, touched by the younger man's words.

Overcome with happiness, John smiled in delight, slipping his hands onto either side of Dave's face, pulling him into a kiss that spoke volumes about the way John was feeling right now: pure bliss. He was going to move in with Dave, with the man that he was - yes, he was admitting it - in love with. He was in love with the cocky, abrasive, bluntly honest, compassionate, dedicated, absolutely drop-dead gorgeous Dr. David Malucci, and it was the best feeling in the world, one that he wouldn't trade and one that he would die for. One that he would hopefully die with.

He pulled away from the kiss, seeing the slightly surprised expression on Dave's face turn into a smile, and he smiled as well. But his smile faded as his eyes traveled down the Junior Resident's body, stopping once he reached the freshly healing wounds on his chest, stomach, and arms. His fingers trailed down to trace the deep scratches gently, remembering Dave last night - hysterical, crazy, irrational - a totally different person than he seemed to be now - composed, sensible, balanced. He glanced up at the younger man, and their eyes met, John's gaze serious while Dave's was confused.

"What are those from?" Dave asked. He'd noted the marks in the shower, and had tried in vain to remember where they'd come from. An out-of-control patient at work? But surely he would've remembered that. However, he didn't remember last night, and it could've happened then.

"You don't remember?" John asked incredulously. Last night in bed, then that hysteric episode in the bathroom...Dave didn't remember any of it? Those images would be in John's mind and memory for a long time, and Dave didn't remember *any* of it?? How could he forget something like that? Dave shook his head, answering John's question, and the Chief Resident instinctively pulled away, turning his back on Dave. "You did that to yourself."

"What?" Dave asked, surprised. Why would he do something like that? God, Dave thought to himself. He must've been fucked up royally last night. And John pulling away proved so. The younger man moved towards John, his expression worried as he asked quietly: "What else did I do?"

"Besides claw at your own skin and try to rip out your own hair in this very bathroom??" he replied more harshly than he'd intended. He turned to face the Junior Resident, who had instinctively touched his own hair, and upon seeing his startled face, John immediately calmed down, reminding himself that Dave probably had no control over what he'd done if he'd had a reaction to the Benadryl he'd taken. John briefly considered smudging the truth so Dave wouldn't feel so guilty, but he had a right to know. With a sigh, he started: "I think you had a reaction to the cold medicine you took."

"What kind of reaction?" Dave asked quickly. At least if John thought it'd been the Benadryl, he wouldn't suspect anything else. As much as he hated lying to him, it would explain everything without John considering another thought. "An allergic reaction, maybe?"

"Maybe." John replied, shrugging. "I don't know. You wouldn't let me take you to the hospital."

Hesitancy in his voice. Slight hesitancy, but still hesitancy at that. There was more, Dave knew there was more. Something John wasn't telling him, something he'd done that John wasn't telling him. The question was...what had he done? He was almost too afraid to ask, but when silence enveloped the room, Dave knew that John was too afraid to tell.

So he said, hesitancy laced in his own voice: "What else happened last night?"

"You had a nightmare," John offered, knowing that that wasn't the answer Dave was looking for.

"I remember that," Dave stated, nodding, an obscure image of John holding him in the darkness while he cried coming to his mind's eye. He took another step forward, but John looked down. God, what had he done? "What else happened?"

"Dave, why don't we drop it for now?" John asked. "We both have to get ready for work, and..."

"John," Dave interrupted softly. "Tell me, please."

"Well, what happened in the bathroom - "

"Before that, John," Dave said, his voice quavering with urgency.

"You..." The Chief Resident sighed, glancing up at the Junior Resident long enough to see his questioning eyes asking him to explain before looking down again. He knew how Dave was going to react, and he knew that telling him but probably a mistake. But John knew lying to him would also be a mistake: Dave was keener than he looked, and certainly more so than he acted, he just had that street sense about him. He could pick up a lie from a mile away, and John was definitely one of the worst liars in this county. "You were kind of rough during sex..."

"How rough?" Dave asked slowly when John didn't continue, fearing the answer that he already knew. His voice nearly caught in his throat when he said, quietly: "Did I hurt you?" Instead of an answer, all he received was a look from John that told him everything he needed to know, and he immediately turned, his hands running through his hair in shock. "Oh, God...oh, God, I...oh, God..." he kept repeating, over and over again as if those were the only words he knew in any language.

"Dave, you were having a reaction to the cold medicine," John said hastily, watching Dave carefully. He could already see that Dave was going to tear himself up about this, even if it hadn't been his fault. Violence of any kind - deliberate or not - to anyone he cared about was probably one of the worst acts Dave could commit in his mind. This would probably haunt him for a long time, John thought, watching as Dave moved one hand to his forehead and the other to his waist, desperately trying to remember last night's events. "Dave, it wasn't your fault. You have to understand that."

"I...it doesn't matter," he said, looking up at John. Dexedrine, he thought. It had to have been the Dexedrine mixed with the cold medicine. Lately, it hadn't been having the same effect on him as when he'd first started taking it, so he'd begun to up the amount he usually took. But after hearing what happened to him - what it made him do - he realized he'd have to take something else to counteract it, to regulate his mood...Klonipin. Did he have any? Or would he have to get some? He instinctively glanced at his mirror, the medicine cabinet concealed behind it, trying to remember exactly what pills he kept inside.

"Dave, it wasn't your...fault," John faltered, following Dave's line of sight to the mirror. Was he studying himself, looking for something in his own reflection? He came up from behind the Junior Resident, wrapping his arms around Dave, bringing one up to gently trace the scratches on his chest, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "Last night was scary," he started softly, resting his chin on Dave's shoulder. "Terrifying, in fact. But it was because you'd probably been drinking, and that combined with the cold medicine - whether or not you had an allergic reaction to it - made you act very out of character. You had no control over what you were doing or saying, and I could tell. I know that that wasn't you last night, Dave. Despite what you think of yourself and no matter how hard you try to convince yourself, I know that you'd never intentionally hurt me, or anyone for that matter. You're not a bad person, you're a good, good person, Dave, you are. I wish I could convince you of that, I really wish I could."

"I don't deserve you," Dave said quietly, looking at John in the mirror.

"That isn't true, Dave," the older man reassured him, wondering how Dave could possibly think that. After everything he'd been through, Dave deserved the world. But he could see that Dave didn't share similar thoughts. "You deserve so much more than you think you do. I know that, Dave. And if you don't believe that yourself, then you can at least believe me. I wouldn't lie to you."

Dave turned in John's arms, pulling the older man close, doing so gently as if he were afraid he would break him. He kissed John's neck, resting his head against John's shoulder, inhaling the scent of his lover. "I'm so sorry, John. And I promise I'll make it up to you. I don't know how, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if I have to. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry..."

"Dave, please stop," John insisted softly. "You have nothing to apologize for."

Dave snuggled closer to John, holding on to him like he was afraid he was going to lose him. They stood like that for a long time, the seconds turning into minutes, and Dave glanced at the clock, knowing he only had about twenty minutes to get to County and it would take him longer than that to get ready and then head out on his bike. He exhaled heavily, moving so he could look into John's eyes.

"I have to get ready," Dave stated, hating to leave this embrace when he knew he would miss it all day. But at least he and John were on similar shifts that day, Dave's starting a couple hours earlier than John's, so he would get to see the older man throughout the day. He smiled, looking up into John's eyes. "I'm going to be late if I take my bike. Do you think you could drop me off?"

"I don't know." John's brow furrowed, his lips pursing for a moment. "I mean...don't you think it'd look...suspicious?"

"What?" Dave asked, his own brow furrowing, but in puzzlement. He smiled bitterly, then, realizing exactly what would seem "suspicious" to their coworkers, who probably wouldn't even think anything of it or wouldn't even witness John dropping him off in front of the ER. Pulling away and walking into the bedroom, Dave scoffed: "Yeah, sure. Right. Wouldn't want anyone to suspect anything. Wouldn't want anyone thinking that someone like John Carter could possibly like a guy like *Dr. Dave*. You're ashamed of me, I know you are! All that stuff you just said, I *knew* you were lying. Come on, admit it. It's bad enough that the ER thinks we're friends, let alone lovers! I mean, if you're going to do this, then you might as well not do it with someone like *me* right??"

"Dave...wait..." John sighed, following Dave into the bedroom, watching the younger man begin to pull on clothes hastily. "Dave, that's not it..."

"Then what is it?" he asked as he turned to John, clearly annoyed. "Please, tell me, John. What is it?"

"Dave, how many superiors do you know at work that are..."

"Gay? Say it, John. Say it: gay," Dave said, sitting down on the bed so he could pull on his socks and shoes. He glanced up at John, who was looking at him with exasperation. "What? Having sex with another guy is totally straight to you, or something? You're gay, John. Admit it!"

"I am not gay," John stated firmly.

"Well, you're at least bisexual."

"I am not bisexual!"

"Are you *stupid*??!" Dave barked angrily, standing with a flourish. He moved to the other side of the bedroom, grabbing his jacket that was hastily thrown over his desk chair, pulling it on roughly as he headed for the hallway. "John, you like me - or at least I think you do. So, you're either gay, bisexual or in denial, my friend, because you certainly are not straight!"

"So what do you want me to do?" John asked, following Dave down the hallway, grabbing his robe and wrapping it around himself as he did so. "You want me to tell everyone in the ER that you and I are sleeping together? That we have sex every night?? Is that what you want?"

Dave stopped and spun around, turning to John with anger in his expression but clear hurt in his eyes. "No, John, that wouldn't make me happy. Because that isn't what this is about." He began to turn once more, but then looked back to John. "You know, it would be real nice, for once, if maybe you and I could go out in public or be at work and be *together,* and not have to worry about you thinking someone might jump down our throats because they 'suspect something.'"

"Okay," John said, placing his hands on his waist, getting annoyed himself. He had his issues, just as Dave had his, but he didn't go about bringing up Dave's inhibitions. Well, he was now. "So you want me to tell everyone how much I love you, but you won't even let me show you how much I love you."

"What are you talking about?" Dave asked defensively, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," John said indignantly, feigning recollection. "You don't remember last night."

"You say that as if it's my fault. You said so yourself, that it was the cold medicine and beer, but you're saying that as if it's my fault," Dave repeated again. He glanced at the clock quickly before turning away from John. "It wasn't my fault, so I don't even know why we're having this conversation in the first place. And what I do with my own body is my own business, you can't tell me what to do with it."

"Where are you going?" John suddenly asked, watching Dave as he moved towards the front door to his apartment, grabbing his bicycle brusquely, which he kept against his living room wall. The younger man suddenly stopped once he heard John's question, slowly turning to face him, his expression one of incredulity. "Didn't you want me to drive you?"

Dave scoffed once more, opening the front door, hardly believing what he was hearing. "Don't worry about it, John. Wouldn't want anyone to 'suspect' anything, right? Besides, the last thing I want is anything from you."

With that, he immediately left, slamming the door closed behind him, the resounding crack of wood on wood echoing off of the apartment walls. John sighed loudly, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. God, sometimes Dave could be so...so...so *Dave*! Quickly, because he knew Dave would be down the stairs and outside biking to County in no time, the Chief Resident threw on his undershirt from the day before and a pair of Dave's sweatpants, pulling on a pair of shoes and his coat before grabbing his keys and heading outside. He rushed down the stairs, heading outside to his Jeep, which was parked at the curb.

Stopping at the curbside to glance down the sidewalk briefly, he could see Dave halfway down the street already, peddling so fiercely the bike swayed from left to right as he did so. Another sigh later, John was inside his Jeep and starting it up, not waiting for it to heat up before he took off down the street, stopping at the busy intersection, where Dave was waiting for the traffic to pass before he crossed it.

"Dave," John called to the younger man, keeping one eye on the red light so it wouldn't change to green without him knowing. The Junior Resident turned towards him just long enough to scowl before he concentrated on the traffic again. "Dave, get in the Jeep."

"Fuck you, John," he spat, then pushed himself off of the curb and into the street, weaving his bicycle deftly through the cars, which promptly honked at him. From what John knew, Dave regularly took risks in the street on his bike with reckless abandon, but it frankly scared the living hell out of him, and he felt his heart skip several beats while witnessing this act. God, he wasn't even wearing a helmet!

"Shit," John breathed as the younger man made it somehow safely to the other side. The light then turned green, and John stepped on the gas immediately to catch up to Dave. He just hoped that Dave didn't try to take any shortcuts through alleys or paths that John couldn't with his Jeep. He slowed down as he caught up to the Junior Resident, ignoring the honks of morning traffic behind him. "Dave! Get in this Jeep right now, before I get into an accident!"

To John's surprise, he actually slowed to a stop, glancing back at the cars behind John, who were now honking furiously, some yelling obscenities at the both of them. He seemed to contemplate his decision for a moment before he finally let out a sigh of defeat.

"Pull over," he called with exasperation, and waited for John to do so before hitching his bike to the back of the Jeep. John leaned over the consol and the passenger's side to open the door for Dave, who soon climbed inside and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest and keeping his stare fixed on the dashboard.

Now driving towards the hospital, John kept glancing at Dave, wanting to say something but unable to think of what. He wasn't sure what words could fix the damage that had been done during their first real argument, but he knew he wanted to say something apologetic and reassuring, something that would make Dave forget all about what had been said earlier.

"You really shouldn't ride your bike in traffic like that." Great, John, he thought sarcastically to himself. Really, really great. That will make everything all better. He mentally kicked himself, knowing that he deserved it.

"Sure thing, Mom," Dave muttered, his gaze now focused on the several buildings passing by outside.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt," John stated, glancing briefly at the younger man, who turned to him and tossed him a glance that could be easily interpreted: Yeah fucking right. John remembered something Dave had said earlier, something about how he thought John liked him. Dave didn't really think John didn't care, did he? "I do care about you, you know."

"Yeah, you just don't want anyone to know you do," Dave muttered snidely.

"If it's so easy to come out, Dave, then why don't you do it?" John asked, finding it incredulous that the younger man could be pressuring him to do this when he hadn't even done it himself.

"What?" Dave asked, turning slowly to face him.

"Well, no one at work knows that you're..."

"Bisexual?" Dave asked when John trailed off, finishing the sentence for him. "It's not a dirty word, for Christ's sake! You can say it, John. Bisexual, bisexual, bisexual. See? Lightening isn't gonna strike you dead and God's not gonna pelt punishment hail at you."

"So why don't you tell anyone?" John snapped, tossing Dave a sideways glance of anger.

"Because it's no one's fucking business!" Dave shot back.

"So why is my being bisexual anyone's business?!!" John yelled.

"God, it isn't the same, John!" Dave exclaimed. "Why can't you fucking see that??"

"How is it different?" John asked incredulously, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.

Dave sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration before answering. "Look, people at work think we're just close friends, but I don't care if they find out we're more than that. And if someone *does* find out and ask me if I'm bisexual, then I'm not gonna lie about it, John! And if you weren't so Goddamned paranoid, I would let the whole world know that I'm with you. And you know why, John?"

"Why?" he spat angrily, his tone of voice suggesting that he really didn't want to know or care to, either.

"It's because *I'm* not ashamed of you, *I'm* proud to be with you, *I'm* *happy* to be with you!! *I'm* glad to *have* you!" he yelled, his handsome features contorted with anger. He suddenly stopped, fearing he'd lose control soon if he got angry enough, not knowing what would happen when he did, and he sat back in his seat, taking a few deep breaths before continuing, in a calmer tone of voice. "The difference is that my personal life is my business, but I'm not about hide who I am because I'm not ashamed of who I am. The difference is that you are ashamed of who you are, and...you're ashamed of who you're with." He paused, turning towards the window, and then said quietly: "That's the difference."

"That's not true," John said as he saw they were approaching Cook County. "I...I just...this is really hard for me, Dave. You just need to be patient with me, that's all. And contrary to what you think, I'm not ashamed of you. I'm trying, Dave, I really am, and I wish you would see that."

They sat in silence as John pulled into the parking garage and found a nearby space. He turned off the car and stepped out, not waiting for Dave before he unhitched the younger man's bike from the back of his Jeep. Dave then moved to take the bike from John, but placed his hands over the Chief Resident's, looking up into the older man's eyes.

"John, look...I'm sorry about last night, even if it isn't my fault. And I'm sorry about this morning too. I know you aren't ready to come out yet, and that's okay with me." Dave paused. He had so much to say, but as usual the words to express his feelings and thoughts failed him. So instead, he pulled John into a quick embrace, kissing him on the cheek discreetly. Then, he looked into John's eyes once more. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," John said, smiling softly.

"Want me to wait for you after work?" Dave asked as he turned his bike towards the ambulance bay. "I could catch up on some charts while I wait, God knows that I need to. And Weaver's going to kill me if I don't get them to her soon. We could go out for a drink afterwards. The Game Room, maybe?"

"Sure," John said, smiling as he hopped back into the Jeep, leaving the door open so he could still talk with Dave, watching his expression broaden into a smile and pure childlike delight as he said: "Then maybe we can go apartment shopping, too."

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We are still living on broken glass

We are still numb because it just keeps happening

All your friends, they can kiss my ass

They only see the simple things that they want to see

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Abby Lockhart, former medical student of her supposed lover Dave Malucci, spotted him enter the Lounge, a smile on his face and his good mood practically emanating from him, ready to infect her and everyone in this hospital. Perhaps it had something to do with that new girlfriend of his, she mused.

...Boyfriend?

No, that was ridiculous! Dave was not gay, and he most certainly didn't have a boyfriend. He was the resident lady killer, for God's sake, bedding any woman who would let him into her path. He'd even tried it on her once, though had managed to fail miserably when his own male hormones had gotten momentarily distracted by a certain female oriental doctor in a little black dress.

But Luka had said it with such firmness and conviction, she thought, as if he knew it for a fact. But he *had* been angry at the time, and people said stupid things when they were angry. But why was he angry with Dave? She didn't think they'd been friends, and the Rumor Mill had nothing to offer on their unexplainable behavior that might give her any hint in the right direction. And it couldn't have been because he thought she and the Junior Resident were an item, he'd been angry with Dave long before then. But that could've added to it if... Wait, it couldn't be...unless it was...then -

"Oh, my God!" Abby said out loud, startling nearly everyone at Admin around her. Luka and Dave, they'd - Dave and Luka had - were? "No... No?"

"Abby, are you okay?" Randi asked, puzzled by the nurse's sudden odd behavior. Having Dave as a boyfriend must really be getting to her, Randi thought, though she knew from experience that the sex was great. So perhaps it was worth it.

"I - I'm fine," she said hastily, quickly heading towards the Lounge. When she pushed open the door and entered the room, seeing him pulling on his scrub top over his long-sleeved T-shirt, she immediately regretted doing so. What was she going to do: just ask him? Well, she had to do something besides just stand here like an idiot. So she managed a squeaked: "Hey, Dave."

Dave glanced up in surprise, tossing Abby a look after seeing that that bad mouse impersonation had come from her. She was standing there looking almost startled, approaching him cautiously, almost nervously. One could easily tell that something was up, but he knew her well enough to know that she was afraid to ask him something. And he had a gut feeling about what it was concerning.

"Hey, Abby," he said, grabbing his stethoscope and ID badge. He decided to stay silent, pretending to rummage through his locker as if he were looking for something, while waiting for her to make the next move.

"How's your girlfriend?" she asked suddenly. Real smooth, Abby, she thought to herself, mentally smacking herself in the head.

"Fine," he replied casually.

"...*She's* fine?" she asked, as innocently as possible, though hesitantly so. He glanced at her in his peripheral vision, but did not reply. Abby was his best friend - maybe his only friend - and he would not risk their relationship by lying to her...but was he willing to come out to her? He watched her open her mouth to say something, close it, open it again, and then finally say: "Dave, are you gay?"

"No," he said evenly.

She hesitated again. "Are you bisexual?"

"Yes," he said, just as evenly as before, though he still wasn't looking directly at her. There he'd done it. That wasn't so hard. But now for her reaction.

"Dave!" She suddenly smacked his arm, and he pulled away from her, glancing at her in surprise, letting out an "Ow!" as she said: "Why didn't you tell me??"

"I don't know!" he said, closing his locker. "It's not something that comes up in conversation. 'Hey, Abby, how ya doing? Let's go have a cup of coffee. Oh by the way, I'm bisexual, just to let you know.'"

"And you're seeing a guy, aren't you?" she continued, ignoring his sarcasm.

"Yes," he admitted.

"Dave!" She smacked his arm again. "Why didn't you tell me that, either?!"

"Ow!" he exclaimed, flinching away from her as he rubbed his stinging flesh. "Stop that!"

"Who are you seeing?" she persisted. "Luka? Yeah, I know all about you two. But he's not rich, that doesn't make sense."

"It's not Luka," he said, heading towards the Lounge door with her following close behind. "He and I have been over for a long time."

"What?" Abby asked, shocked that her suspicions were indeed true. "When was this?"

"In the summer. After you guys broke up," he said. "I was the rebound guy. I guess that was the problem."

"Problem?" Abby asked, confused.

"Well, Luka had never been with a guy before and he really couldn't handle all the...complications that came with it, so we ended it."

"But not on good terms," Abby added.

Dave looked at her, and she could see that that fact deeply bothered him. "Actually, we left it on terrible terms."

"I know the feeling," Abby muttered, thinking back to her and Luka's breakup. She suddenly looked up at him. "So...then who are you seeing now??"

"I can't tell you." She raised her hand again, but he pulled away from her before she could smack his arm again, and she missed, catching only air. He turned to her, his expression exasperated. "Look, I can't tell you because it isn't my place. Now I've got patients to see. I'll talk to you later, I promise!"

"Dave!" she called after him as he quickly moved down the hallway, grabbing a random chart and heading towards the correct room, avoiding her prying questions - for now. "I'm going to find out who it is sooner or later, Malucci!!"

"Lover's spat?" she heard the unmistakable voice of Robert Romano ask. Apparently, even *he* had heard the rumors.

But, frankly, she was sick of it. "Oh, shut up!"

-------------------------------------

Let me be the one to make the pain go away

Shed my skin and show a brand new face

You know I just wanna know that you're okay

-------------------------------------

Two hours later, John Carter entered Cook County General, patting the newspaper in his coat pocket that he'd picked up on the way over, thinking of the different apartments Dave and he could get. With John's salary as Chief Resident - and not to mention that trust fund with his name on it - they could easily get a nice spacious apartment with a great view of the city and a great big bed.

On that note, John considered the sex they'd had last night. Dave had to have been drinking, he just *had* to have been, even if for some reason Dave didn't want to admit it. And that combined with the cold medicine could've made him act the way he did. What else could explain his odd behavior? Dave had even said so himself, that he'd never want to hurt John. So why else would he unless he couldn't control himself?

But John hadn't tasted or smelled alcohol on Dave's breath when he'd kissed him, and Dave *had* said that he hadn't been drinking.

"You knew, didn't you?" He turned away from his locker to face Abby, who was looking at him accusingly, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Knew what?" he asked, taking off his shoulder bag and hanging it in his locker.

"About Dave," she simply stated, having second thoughts about whether or not John knew. Coming in here, she'd decided that since John and Dave were closer friends than she and Dave were, then that had to mean that John knew that Dave was seeing a guy. But if he didn't, then maybe Dave hadn't told him for a reason, and that was his decision, not hers. So she'd just have to ask him without asking, if that were even possible.

"What about Dave?" John asked, wondering just what exactly this was about.

"Uh...uh...that he's...seeing Jing-Mei," she said, the wheels of her mind in overdrive as she tried to think of a way to get John to admit that Dave was bisexual *and* seeing a guy, then try to find out just who that guy was. She hastily added: "And they're moving in together."

John had to laugh. "What?"

"Yeah, you knew," Abby said casually, nodding as she brushed a stray piece of brown hair behind her ear. "I knew you knew. And you'd blatantly denied it before."

"Abby, trust me, they're not seeing each other and they're not moving in together," John stated. Where the hell had she gotten this information? Dave? Maybe he'd mentioned something about moving, and now she was trying to find out whom Dave was seeing by tricking him. Well, it wasn't going to work. "She doesn't even *like* him."

"That's...not what Jing-Mei said."

His head snapped towards her, his brow furrowed in pure incredulity now. "Jing-Mei told you that she was moving in with Dave? Um, why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Okay, so maybe she didn't say that," Abby confirmed with a shrug. "But she's the only...woman I know who's rich, and Dave said the...person he was seeing was rich."

"Maybe it's Dr. Romano," John mused sarcastically, wishing for a trauma to come in that required his assistance, or a fire in the hospital that would force them to leave, or perhaps lightning would strike him dead, ending their conversation permanently. At least he wouldn't have to worry about it then.

"But that would mean Dave was gay...or at least bisexual." She then leaned close to John, forcing him to meet his eye. "Dave's not gay or bisexual, is he?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Why...why would you think Dave was gay or bisexual?"

"Hey, *you're* the one that brought a guy into the conversation," Abby countered.

"What exactly did Dave tell you?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "What exactly do you know?"

He watched her for a moment, almost falling for this one, but then he turned back to his locker, shaking his head as he said: "I am not having this conversation with you."

"I knew you knew!" Abby said, able to tell by now when John was lying or trying to hide something. She knew him too well. And don't think she hadn't caught his surprise yesterday when she'd stated that Dave was seeing a woman and he'd said, "She?" She narrowed her eyes now, thinking of how it'd only raised her suspicion. "And you knew he was dating a guy, didn't you?"

"Abby..." he started. It wasn't his place to say anything unless Dave had told her already, but he wondered why Dave would do something like that. He'd just said this morning that John didn't want to come out yet, and that he was fine with it. Now he was going to pull something like this? Was he *trying* to give them away? Shit...what if she already knew??

"He just told me today," she went on to say, leaning back against the locker next to John's. She suddenly turned to face John again, her eyes wide. "Do you know who he's seeing??"

Maybe she didn't. "No, I don't. And even if I did, it isn't my place to tell you." Her brow suddenly furrowed, her gaze pinning him to the wall. "What?"

"I think you know," was the slow reply. Know what? Shit, did she know or not?? He couldn't figure it out! God, what had Dave *told* her?! "You know who it is. Who is it??"

"I can't tell you," he stammered hastily, thanking God that she *didn't* know. He quickly took off his jacket, wanting to get out of there immediately, and his newspaper of apartments for rent fell out of his pocket and into the floor. Abby bent down and picked it up, glancing over it before handing it to him. "Thanks."

"You're moving?" she asked, and he was grateful that the subject had been changed. "Man, you guys don't tell me anything anymore!"

"Sorry," John apologized, tossing the paper into his locker and closing it. He placed his stethoscope around his neck, grabbing some much-needed coffee before heading out into the ER. "I just decided to today. I picked that up on the way over here, I'm going to look it over on my break. Want to help?"

"Sure," she said. "So who is it?"

"Who's whom?"

"Who Dave is seeing!" she exclaimed, as if the notion he'd forgotten what they'd been discussing was unbelievable.

"Abby, I don't know who it is," John said, wishing right about now that he could strangle Dave for ever telling Abby that he was bisexual and seeing a man. What the hell had he been thinking? He'd definitely have to talk about this with Dave as soon as possible.

"Oh, yes you do!" she insisted, pointing at him. "You just said that you couldn't tell me. You know, I know you know. I won't tell anyone if you tell me, I promise!"

"Abby, I really can't tell you," he stated, spotting the Junior Resident he was looking for sewing up an arm lac near Admin. The ER was exceptionally busy today, forcing some patients into the halls. He hurried towards Dave and away from Abby, glad that she finally gave up badgering him and stopped following him with a loud frustrated sigh. Once Abby was out of sight, John approached Dave and grabbed his arm, motioning towards an empty supply closet. "We need to talk."

"I'm kinda busy," Dave reported, holding up the needle and thread as if to prove it to him.

"Now." Whoa, the younger man thought. No room for argument there.

"Okay..." Dave said, his brow furrowed. Uh oh, this couldn't be good. He excused himself from his patient, telling him not to move a muscle, and then followed John into an empty supply closet, who immediately closed the door behind him. He turned towards the Chief Resident, confusion in his eyes. "What's up? What's so important that you had to pull me away from a patient? Real unprofessional, man."

"You want to talk about unprofessional??" he asked Dave, standing close to him threateningly. Dave stood up straighter and raised his chin to appear taller, knowing from experience when a fight was coming, physical or not. "Let's talk about *you* telling Abby you're bisexual and seeing a guy."

Dave tossed John an incredulous smile, glancing off briefly. "*That's* why you're so upset? John, in case you didn't notice, Abby and I are pretty close; there isn't much we keep from each other."

"Well, you should've kept *this* from her!" John spat, pacing nervously about the small room.

"Why?" Dave wanted to know, holding out his hands.

"What if she thinks *I'm* the guy you're seeing?"

"Well, you are the guy I'm seeing," Dave stated blatantly.

John sighed in frustration. "I mean: what if she thinks I'm gay?"

"You are gay...bisexual? In denial? What do you want me to say??" Dave asked, remembering their conversation from this morning. John tossed Dave an exasperated look, stopping his pacing to cross his arms over his chest. "Look," Dave said, approaching the Chief Resident. He placed his hands on John's upper arms, gently rubbing them up and down as he stood flush to him. "I'm sorry if you didn't want her to know, but she's my best friend, my *only* friend, and I don't want to lie to her. But just because you and I are friends and I'm bisexual doesn't automatically make *you* the guy I'm seeing. And don't worry, she doesn't suspect anything either. She thought it was *Luka*."

John looked up at Dave, whose charm and aesthetic features could win him over during any argument. He slowly smiled, giving in. "It's okay. Just..."

"I know," Dave said, wishing John would get past his fears so Dave could tell the world that they were together. But maybe for now it was okay; he kind of liked the idea of having John all to himself. He slipped his hands on either side of John's face, leaning in for a kiss.

"Are you sure we should do this here?" John asked, glancing at the closed door. But all thoughts were chased from his mind when he felt Dave's lips upon his own.

Things got serious fairly quickly. They weren't about to have sex right here, right now in this supply closet, but a heavy make-out session was in progress and wasn't nearly over yet. Tongues were clashing, hands were roaming: John's up the back of Dave's scrub top and Dave's pulling John's shirt out of his pants so he could feel that silky smooth chest.

And then a beeper going off. John's beeper. "Ignore it," Dave demanded, not ready to leave John's lips just yet. John did what he was told, plucking it off of his belt and chucking it across the small room, the beeper knocking over a few brooms and mops in its wake. Apparently, John wasn't ready to leave Dave's lips just yet, either, loving the feel of Dave's strong back under his fingertips.

But the next thing Dave knew, however, he was being pushed away roughly by John, nearly tripping and falling backwards but regaining his balance before doing so. He opened his eyes in surprise, glancing up. "What is it?" Following John's line of vision, he saw Abby Lockhart standing in the doorway, clearing her throat. "Oh." He cleared his throat as well, looking at the floor as he rubbed the nape of his neck.

"Smart, funny, good-looking, special and *rich*," she said, pointing to John. "I should've known." She then indicated the fallen mops and brooms at her feet. "I heard some noises in here, so I thought it'd check it out. Now that I see it was just you two making out, I'm going to..." - she paused, thinking for a moment - "stay right here, gape at you guys, and make you feel really uncomfortable."

"Thanks, Abby," Dave said with a sarcastic smile, though there was amusement in his eyes. "You're a doll."

"No problem," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning in the doorway. She watched the two men expectantly. "Go on. I was enjoying your little make-out session just as much as you two were, trust me."

"Maybe you'd like to join us?" Dave asked, winking at her suggestively.

"No...no. Well, perhaps some other time," she responded winking back at him. "Right now, I'm enjoying watching the two of you."

"We weren't making out," John stated feebly, but the words rang false even to his own ears. But Abby couldn't know...if she did, she could let it slip to someone else, and then the whole hospital would know. And he didn't want to know what would happen then. He glanced at Dave for help. "We were just..."

"Making out," he clarified casually.

"Dave!" John exclaimed, his desperate eyes urgently trying to make Dave look at him, but the Junior Resident was looking at Abby.

"Well, he certainly wasn't giving you mouth-to-mouth," Abby stated dryly.

Dave began to laugh, but when he glanced at John, all humor on the subject turned to ashes in his mouth. The Chief Resident looked like a deer caught in headlights: startled and surprised - most of all, scared. Dave exchanged glances with Abby, both sensing John didn't find anything even remotely funny.

"Listen, Abby." Dave started in an attempt to make John feel better about being caught kissing another man. But John's beeper going off once more interrupted him, and the older man immediately took the chance to get out of the room, not even bothering to pick up his pager before he left in a rush. "John...John wait!"

Abby watched John move down the hallway and disappear into the crowded ER, obviously flustered at the fact that she had walked in on him kissing Dave. She turned back to Dave with a frown, his brow furrowed in concern. He looked at Abby now, regaining his composure, and he offered her another one of his casual shrugs that Abby knew deceptively hid what he was feeling.

"So..." she started, bending down to pick up the fallen brooms and mops off of the floor. "You and John are...?"

"Yeah," he verified, helping her in her task by leaning them up against the wall where they'd once been standing. Once finished, he turned to face her, talking in a low voice so no one would overhear. "But...could you please talk to him about this? Reassure him that it's okay that you know. He's never done this before." Dave paused for a moment, worry suddenly clouding his face. "It *is* okay with you, right, Abby?"

Abby looked up at him. "Would that make a difference?"

"I'd still be with John, but what you think matters to me, Abby," he said. "I care what you think of me."

"It's fine with me," she said softly, nodding. And before the subject got too "mushy" for either of them, she asked: "Have you been with a man before? I mean, before Luka?"

Dave nodded. "A few."

"Oh," she said, mostly because she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"You sound surprised."

"I am."

"Disappointed?"

"No!" she said quickly, and then smiled. "Just surprised: I mean, John maybe, but...*you*??"

-------------------------------------

You don't have to like it

But the swing is in my hands now

-------------------------------------

Abby Lockhart glanced inside of the drug lock-up, her shoulders slumping in defeat and a soft curse escaping her lips as she saw that it was empty. For an hour now, she'd been searching for John Carter, her mission sidetracked several times by traumas, patients and other distractions. She was about to continue her search when she glanced down at her clipboard, remembering that she hadn't gotten to finish her inventory because of one specific Croatian doctor, and then crossed the threshold into the small room, pulling a pen from her pocket as she began to finish her job.

Her eyes searched the shelves expertly after years of experience, trying to locate the drug that she was looking for so she could cross-reference it with her list of the drugs that had been signed out and write down if any were missing or if there was too much. Dexedrine, Dexedrine...where was the Dexedrine? She stood on tiptoe to get a better view of the top shelf, but it wasn't there either. Where could it be? Had someone misplaced it? Sighing, she marked it down on her inventory and moved on to the next drug.

Halfway finished with her inventory, Abby Lockhart knew that something was wrong. Her brow furrowed as she flipped through the pages of her clipboard, noting different drugs and numbers, glancing up at the shelves though not really seeing them. She shook her head incredulously, sighing as she did so. "Damn doctors don't know how to sign out anything."

"What do you mean?" she heard from next to her, and when she turned she could see Dr. Weaver standing beside her, searching the shelves with her eyes for atropine. Abby hadn't even noticed her enter the room.

"They're taking drugs without signing them out," she said, indicating the shelves around them. "Controlled substances, too. Look." She held out the chart to Dr. Weaver, pointing out the different drugs as she said: "Two Demerol, twenty-eight Benzodiazipines - twenty of them Klonipins, a whole bottle of Dexedrines, sixteen Percocets, and two barbiturates, amongst others."

"A whole *bottle* of Dexedrines?" the older woman asked, amazed that so many drugs could be taken from the drug lock-up without someone signing them out - especially *those* kind of drugs. Addictive drugs. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I checked and double checked," Abby confirmed. She looked Dr. Weaver in the eye then, pure concern and worry filling them. "You don't think someone's stealing them...do you?"

As if on cue, John Carter, in need of some Lidocaine for his patient in Sutures, entered the drug lock-up. The two women immediately glanced at him suspiciously, their eyes almost pinning him to the wall. God, Abby hadn't told Dr. Weaver that she'd discovered him and Dave making-out quite juvenilely in a supply closet, had she? And now they were discussing what they should do with him? He froze in his steps, unable to turn and duck out, even though he wanted to.

"John," Dr. Weaver started. Oh, God, here it came. But what was she going to say, exactly? That he was warned? Suspended? God, she'd almost fired Dave for having sex with that paramedic, what was she going to do to him? "John, Abby was conducting her inventory when she...noticed something."

"What?" he asked, glancing at the nurse, his brow furrowing in thought. What did he and Dave have to do with her drug inventory? Perhaps she hadn't told Dr. Weaver about them...

"Some drugs are missing," the Chief of the ED stated, leaning heavily on her crutch. She sighed, her eyes displaying her concern. "Dexedrines, Percocets, Klonipins, Demerol, barbiturates." She trailed off, her eyes fixating on him. John tilted his head, getting the gist of what she was about to say. He was almost relieved that they weren't speaking of what had occurred earlier in the empty supply closet, but he wasn't sure what was worse: that or being suspected of abusing drugs again. He glanced at Abby once more, then back to Dr. Weaver. "John, do you have anything to do with this?"

"No," he said quickly, holding up his hands in innocence, shaking his head. "I'll take a drug test, pee in a cup, whatever you want, but I'm not the one taking anything. I sign out all my drugs, addictive or not, you can check out the list."

"That's all right, I believe you," Dr. Weaver said, shaking her head and holding up her hand in resignation. She sighed once more, rubbing her temple with her forefingers as if she had a headache. Glancing up at her two employees, she said: "If you have any idea who could be doing this, please let me know. Until then, I'm going to call a staff meeting and let the others know."

"Sure thing," Abby said, and John said something similar. The Chief then left the room, leaving said employees alone, and upon realizing this, John quickly tried to duck out, but Abby grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Not so fast. I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" he asked innocently, unable to meet her gaze, instead shifting his own to the shelves surrounding them.

"About what happened earlier," she stated, leaning against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest. She noted how nervous he seemed, and she was almost sad to know that he believed there was something immoral with what he and Dave shared. "John, I want you to know that there's nothing wrong with you having a relationship with Dave. There's nothing wrong with being attracted to someone and acting upon it, and no one has a right to tell you who that person is or who that person *should* be. I'm happy for you guys, it's about time the both of you found someone. I hope that you make each other happy."

"Really?" he asked quietly, looking up at her with questioning eyes. She smiled warmly at him and nodded, and he instantly let out a sigh of relief that must've started from his toes. Abby was one of his closest friends as well, and he didn't want to lose her. He was very glad that she was okay with everything, and wasn't about to break off their friendship because he was involved with a man. And he knew that in today's homophobic society, this was likely to occur with some people.

But Abby hadn't been the first person to find out, though she was the first to walk in on the two men in a heated moment. And he was exceptionally glad that this hadn't been the case with his own grandmother.

* * *

Storm clouds blanketed the sky, making the night unusually dark and unusually cold, the two young men's breath coming out in visible puffs as they walked up the path to the Carter family mansion, quickly so they wouldn't be spotted. Tonight, John had to stay at home because he'd slept over Dave's all week, and his grandmother and grandfather were beginning to become suspicious of his excuses that he had to work late at the hospital. But he'd assured Dave that he could sleep over, since his grandfather - having come out of the hospital a few weeks ago - was fully recuperated and was on a business trip, and his grandmother had a charity breakfast to attend to early tomorrow morning from seven o'clock until eleven o'clock. Dave had met him by the front gate, and now the older man was leading him into the house, John's hand clasped with Dave's, who was glancing around at the large estate grounds, still amazed by the vastness of it.

"Jeeze, this place is *huge*," Dave stated, tilting his head back to see if he could see all three floors of the mansion, but unable to do so because of the darkness. He turned to his left to see a large lake, shimmering in the small amount of light from the partly visible moon, and when he turned to his right, he could only see the mansion walls stretching on and on. "Is this place made out of gold bricks, too?"

John paused briefly, turning to his companion. "Dave, I'm not as rich as you think I am."

"You're richer than I am," he pointed out, still studying the visible parts of the estate in the night.

"You're not rich at all," John reminded him, and only then did Dave turn to face him.

"Thanks for reminding me that you're slumming every time you come to my place," Dave said sarcastically, though a smile was playing on his lips. He briefly considered this fact, but quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind before he delved too much into it and came up with answers he didn't want.

"Come on," John said, letting out a small laugh before leading the younger man into the house. "We're almost there.

"Almost there..." Dave scoffed with incredulity. "We gotta walk through booby traps to get to the front door, or something?"

"No, just guards with automatic weapons."

"What??"

"Kidding, Dave. I'm kidding."

They entered the side door by the kitchen, and silently made their way inside the dimly lit house. As John led him down different hallways and through different rooms, Dave briefly wondered how he could possibly remember which way to go in a house this big. It must be nice to have money to spend, he considered silently, nearly knocking into the corner of a piece of furniture that if he broke he knew he'd never be able to replace it.

John suddenly stopped him before they entered another hallway, the Junior Resident nearly crashing into him. He leaned close to Dave, whispering in his ear: "You have to be really quiet. My Gamma's room is down this hallway, and I don't want to wake her, but this is the only way to get to my room without going around the whole house."

Dave was about to sarcastically remind him that this was no house when John moved inside the hallway, Dave having to follow because they were still holding hands. They tiptoed silently down the long hall, the younger man wondering which room exactly was his grandmother's when there was a metallic clinking sound, and John immediately picked up his pace, fearing his grandmother had awoken.

"Wait, wait, wait," Dave whispered insistently, stopping John from pulling him any further. The older man turned to Dave, who indicated behind them. "Those were my keys, I dropped my keys. I have to go get them. Don't move, I don't want to get lost."

John nodded, and the Junior Resident moved down the hallway silently, his eyes searching the dimly lit floor for his keys. He spotted them, the light glinting off of them from the small hall light, and quickly plucked them off of the floor, clasping his hand around them so they wouldn't make any noise. Standing upright, he began walking down the hallway again when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"John?" Millicent Carter called from her bedroom, which Dave was standing directly in front of. He looked up at John, wishing he could see the older man's eyes in the darkness. John was too far down the hallway for his grandmother to even begin to think that if he replied, the voice would come from the form standing in front of her open door. So Dave had no choice but to pretend to be him. "John, is that you?"

Standing straighter to appear taller, moving his hand to his mouth and pretending to cough into it, Dave replied in as best an impersonation of John's higher-pitched voice: "Yes?"

"What are you doing awake at this hour?" she inquired, and Dave prayed to God that she didn't venture out of her room. He didn't want to be the catalyst that resulted in her having a fatal MI and keeling over right then and there.

He coughed again, pretending to clear his throat. "Needed some water."

"Oh," she replied from her room. "Good night, then, John."

"'Night, Grandma," he said hastily, bolting down the hallway and towards John, who took his hand once more and quickly led him through another hallway, then up more stairs and finally to his bedroom. He closed the door behind him, letting out a deep breath and turning towards the older man, who was turning on a small light. "Jesus Christ," he breathed.

"That was way too fucking close," John said, facing the younger man with raised eyebrows.

"You're telling me," Dave said, indicating himself as they began to undress themselves and get ready for bed. Dave had been hoping for some sex in that huge bed of John's again, but the older man had reminded him that Corrine and the family were going to be home, and he didn't want them to overhear anything, so just sleeping would occur tonight. But Dave had no problem with that: he would choose John just lying next to him over sleeping alone any night. "You have no idea how hard it is to imitate your voice."

"What's wrong with my voice?" John asked defensively, though Dave could tell that he was only half serious.

"Nothing," Dave said with a smile, holding up his hands in mock-surrender. John began to pull on a pair of sweatpants, but Dave stopped him, looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes that John loved. "Can we...sleep naked?"

"Dave, you know we can't do anything tonight," John reminded him, though he'd stopped in his task.

"I know," he replied, nodding. He smiled sheepishly, and if it were brighter in the room John would've seen the blush rise in Dave's cheeks. "I just...I mean, you know. If we...sleep naked, then I can...just...feel your skin against mine."

John smiled softly, touched by the Junior Resident's words, who rarely allowed himself to voice his own feelings. Standing flush to the younger man, he placed his hands on either side of Dave's face, pulling him into a gentle kiss before separating and moving to the bed, crawling under the covers with him. Very soon, they lay drowsily in each other's arms, listening to the seconds tick by on the clock over John's fireplace.

"John," Dave suddenly said, the sleepiness in his voice apparent.

"Mmm hmm?"

"This is the most comfortable mattress I've ever laid on."

"Really?" he mumbled, his eyes closed.

"Yep," he replied. "And this is the warmest blanket I've ever laid under. But do you know what the best part about this bed is?"

"What's that?"

Dave kissed him softly on the forehead, then whispered: "You're in it."

---

Sometimes I think the power is better than a hard drug

Sometimes I think the power is better than anything

Sometimes I think letting go is just like giving up

Sometimes all I think I wanna do is die inside

---

In the morning, the younger man had awoken first, John sleeping soundly beside him. Glancing at the clock, he'd noted that it was seven-thirty, so they were probably alone in the house, and he was beginning to get hungry, so he figured he could make them something to eat, and then wake John to join him. After pulling the first pair of boxers he saw - John's boxers - he ventured out of the room, desperately trying to remember how to get to the kitchen, having only been here two times. After doubling back twice, Dave finally found his way to said room, and began poking around in the refrigerator, looking for something he could make them.

"Excuse me?" He stood upright, accidentally hitting his head on one of the shelves, and whirled around to face Millicent Carter, who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen in a thick robe and slippers. "But you're not John."

"Uh, no...no, I'm not," he replied, suddenly realizing that he was half-naked in this woman's kitchen - not to mention wearing a pair of her grandson's underwear. He glanced to his left and saw a kitchen towel next to the sink, and tried to inconspicuously pick it up and cover himself up as much of himself with it as possible. "Uh...John said you were, uh, going to be at a, uh, uh, a charity breakfast or something," he stammered as if he were an idiot. His heart was doing ninety as he tried to figure out what to say next, cursing himself because he could usually make up an excuse in even the stickiest of situations. "But, uh, you're...here."

"After arriving home late last night from a charity *dinner,* I decided to skip it," she said casually, pulling up a stool at the counter and sitting down. She indicated behind him. "Could you shut the refrigerator? You're letting all the cold air out."

"Sure," he said quickly, hastily closing the door behind him. He pointed in the general direction of John's bedroom. "Uh, John's still sleeping." He quickly corrected himself after realizing he'd only know that if he had been sleeping in the same room. "I think. Uh, I'm not sure, because I haven't seen him awake yet. See, last night he invited me over for a drink, and it got pretty late, so...uh...uh...he let me sleep here. In a guestroom," he added quickly. "I - I found my own way to the kitchen."

"Dr. Malucci, is it?" she asked, remembering him from John's congratulation party, remembering what her maternal instincts had picked up that night. He nodded, holding his breath instinctively. "Well, relax, Dr. Malucci. I know about you two."

"What?" was the slow reply. He narrowed his eyes, unsure of what exactly she meant. "You mean, John told you he was having me over last night?"

"No," she said, folding her hands atop the counter. "I mean I know that you and John are intimate."

"Uh...John and I? We're just friends. We work together."

"Dr. Malucci, can I ask you something?" she suddenly asked, crossing her arms over her chest now. He nodded slowly, not trusting his voice. "Do I look like an idiot?"

"No..." he replied, though she continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"Because I must if you think that I am about to believe the two of you aren't intimate when you're sneaking around my house at three in the morning holding hands and calling me *grandma*, and then the next morning you are standing in the middle of my kitchen half-naked wearing a pair of John's boxers!"

It took Dave a minute to begin thinking again. Then, he said: "Yeah, so, uh..."

"I may be old, but I haven't lost my wits yet," she stated. There was a brief silence between them, where Dave was calculating the best way to duck out of this situation and make his escape, while Millicent watched him squirm under her gaze. "So are you going to make some breakfast, Dr. Malucci, or am I going to have to do it myself?"

"Uh, sure." He glanced up at her, noting her smile of amusement, and he smiled too, relief washing over him as he realized that not only did John's grandmother know about them, but she also had no problem with it. "And, please, call me Dave."

"Well, in that case, Dave," she said, shrugging, "you can call me Gamma."

"Gamma?" Dave asked, testing the word as it rolled off of his tongue. He wrinkled his nose, unable to say the name without being embarrassed. "Isn't that one of those names that the grandkids eventually grow out of calling their grandmothers?"

"Not when you're as close to the grandkids as I am," she replied, hoping that perhaps she could get close to this unique individual as well. She knew that the reason John hadn't told her about Dave yet was probably because he was afraid she would admonish him for caring about another man, and she hoped that maybe by showing John that Dave was welcome into her home - her life - he could see that it was all right for him to feel that way.

"How about I call you Nonna," he said. She raised an eyebrow, wondering where he could've possibly come up with that name. "It means grandma in Italian. I think I probably would've called my grandmother that if I'd had one."

"Nonna?" She wrinkled her nose now. "It sounds like a breed of dog."

"Hey, take it or leave it," Dave said with a grin, shrugging as he did so. "I could always call you Milly."

"Nonna it is."

"Great," he said with a nod, the last of his nervousness leaving his body. He smiled one of his winning smiles, opening the refrigerator once more and indicating its contents. "So how about some breakfast, Nonna?"

---

All I wanna do is die inside

All I ever think about is you and me falling apart

---

Descending the stairs to the main floor one half-hour later, John Carter paused midway after hearing laughter coming from the kitchen. He thought he recognized Dave's laughter and his own Gamma's, but what would his grandmother and Dave be doing in the kitchen laughing? For one, Gamma wasn't even home, she was at a charity breakfast for some organization or another. For two, that would just be plain ridiculous. Continuing down the stairs once more, John figured that Dave was probably making breakfast for the two of them, listening to the nearby radio or watching the television in there or something.

"I have to say that that is the oddest thing I've ever heard!" Gamma's voice. Definitely Gamma's voice. "It really happened?"

"You bet." Dave's voice. Definitely Dave's voice. Oh, my God... "You should see half of the things we see in the ER, Nonna. It'd just blow you away."

John abruptly stopped in his tracks, nearly falling down the stairs as he did so. Dave was in his kitchen, talking with his Gamma, and he was calling her *what*?? Had he just been sucked into an alternate universe?? Rushing down the stairs, he moved to the kitchen, needing to witness this to see if it was really happening. And when he stood in the doorway of the room, Gamma and Dave turning to face him with warm smiles, he cursed the fact that the Earth never opened up and swallowed you whole when you wanted it to.

"Hey, John," Dave said. He indicated the pans on the stove, filled with different foods. "I made breakfast. Want some?"

"Dave really is an excellent cook," Gamma went on to say, nodding with satisfaction as she took a bite of her breakfast. "You really should try these omelets, they're wonderful."

"I'm sure they are," he stated, a note of intolerance in his voice audible. He turned to the Junior Resident. "Dave, may I please speak with you privately?"

"Uh...sure," he said, exchanging glances with Millicent. He knew this couldn't be good. "I'll be right back. And don't you move, I've got a million stories just like the one I just told you," he said to her, and she held up her hands in resignation. Leaving the table, he moved into the adjoining hall with John, who was looking seriously pissed off. "What is it?"

"What is it?" he hissed incredulously, his voice low so Gamma couldn't hear him. "What is it?? You tell me, Dave. Just what the *fuck* do you think you're doing?"

"Excuse me?" Dave asked, taken aback by the Chief Resident's harsh words. "What is your problem?"

"My problem? What is my problem?? You're my problem, Dave. But the real question: is what the fuck is *your* problem, Dave?" John spat, pacing throughout the small hall. He glanced at Dave, his eyes fiery with anger. "What do you think you're doing having breakfast with my grandmother?"

Dave was totally and utterly confused. "Well, it's morning, and you generally have breakfast in the morning, so..."

"Don't get smart with me!" John whispered harshly, cutting him off before he could go any further. "This isn't funny and this isn't cute! This is serious. You know what I mean: now she knows that you and I are...together. Are you stupid, or something? Or maybe you're just out to ruin my life!"

"Oh..." Recognition crossed Dave's face as he realized why John was so upset. "John, don't worry, she has no problem with it."

"No problem with it??" John asked incredulously. "Of course she's going to have a problem with it!"

"You repeat a lot when you're angry," Dave noted, leaning against the wall offhandedly. "Did you know that?"

"Is that all you can do?" John asked, annoyed as he paused in his pacing, turning to the Junior Resident. "Be sarcastic? Because now isn't really the time. My grandmother just found out that her grandson is seeing a man, how do you think she's going to feel about that? As indifferent as you are??"

"Why don't you ask her?" the two men heard from behind them, and they turned to see Millicent standing in the doorway between the kitchen and hallway, having overheard parts of their conversation. She turned to Dave briefly. "Dave, would you mind if John and I shared a moment alone?"

"No, ma'am," he replied, shaking his head and making a hasty retreat upstairs, having finished his breakfast and needing to get into some clothes so he could head out to work on time. He could say a more formal goodbye to Millicent once he was finished getting ready. "I'll see you both later."

"John, come in here and sit down," she said to her grandson, motioning towards the kitchen. Sitting down at her previous spot, John sat across from her, where Dave had been sitting earlier. She watched him carefully, noting his nervousness and apprehension, but remained silent, waiting for him to look up at her. When he finally did, she finally said: "Two years ago, a man took away your happiness overnight. One month ago, Dave brought it back to you. He makes you happy, John, something that I've wanted for you for so long, something that you deserve after all that you've been through. He seems like such a nice young man, and he can certainly cook - something you can't do for the life of you." She turned serious once more. "John, don't let your inhibitions hold you back when you're finally happy. And I want you to know that you are my grandson, and I love you no matter who *you* love, man or woman."

John looked up from under his brow, touched by his grandmother's words. She loved him, even if he was involved with another man. She wasn't going to shun him or denounce him from the family or wipe out his trust fund or anything remotely as drastic, because she loved him. She was perfectly fine with the fact that he was with Dave, and she was even happy for him - happy because he was happy.

"Now go upstairs and apologize to our guest, John."

"I was pretty hard on him, wasn't I?"

"You were horrid, John," she said. "And I don't ever want to hear you using that language in my house again."

---

Never said I was innocent

I will burn in hell for the things I've done to you

Never said I was anything good...

---

The clouds that had enveloped the night sky were now gone, having moved west of Chicago, and now the sun was shining brightly, offering slight warmth during the cold of winter. Bathed in this warmth was Dave Malucci, as he walked down the driveway of the Carter mansion, heading towards the road where the cab would be arriving in a few minutes. He'd considered waiting for John to tell him that he was leaving, but he didn't want to hear any more of John's accusations or insults today, so he left quickly while John was still speaking with his grandmother.

Frankly, John had hurt his feelings, so as he saw the older man coming down the driveway in his Jeep, probably in search of the missing doctor, he kept walking, ignoring the Chief Resident as he kept his gaze at the ground beneath his feet.

"Dave," John called, putting the Jeep in park and quickly hopping out of it to chase the younger man down the long driveway, who was steadily quickening his pace. "Dave!" he called again, jogging to catch up with him. He grabbed the younger man's arm, letting Dave's momentum swing him towards John. "Dave, wait."

"Get off of me, John," he said, pulling his arm away from him and continuing on his trek.

"I thought I was going to drive you home," John stated, pausing briefly in the driveway.

"I called a cab from the house."

"What??" John asked in surprise, immediately resuming following Dave. Once caught up with him, he tried to walk with the younger man, but he couldn't keep up with his pace. "Dave, why would you do that?"

"Wouldn't want to bother you," he said with a sardonic smile, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "I mean, if I'm ruining your life, then I might as well just get out of it as soon as I can, right?"

"What are you...?" he began to ask, but then remembered that he'd said something about Dave ruining his life when they'd been arguing in the hall. Damn it, sometimes he really should think before he decided to speak. "Dave, I didn't mean it before, I was just..."

"Then you shouldn't have said it," he interrupted, suddenly stopping. John paused as well, a few steps in front of Dave, and when he turned back to the younger man, he could clearly see hurt in his eyes. "Look, I know you may not think much of me, but that doesn't mean you can talk to me like that. And I may not be that much, but at least I'm not rude and I treat you with respect." He paused trying to gather the right words. "I care about you more than you think, John, and despite what you think, I'm not out to ruin your life. But if I am, then maybe we should just quit it right now."

"Dave..." John tried, taking a step towards the younger man, who only took another step back, holding out his hands defensively.

"No! John, the last thing I want to do is make you unhappy, and if I do, then..." he trailed off, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He looked up at John again, sighing. "Forget it. Go back to pretending. Hell, maybe you could even find a nice rich girl, settle down and make everyone happy."

"I'm sorry!" John implored. "I was angry, and people say stupid things when they're angry. More than angry I was scared, Dave. I didn't know what my grandmother was going to do. It may be easy for you to come out but it isn't for me, especially when someone does it for me."

"I didn't say anything, John," Dave interjected. "She figured it out herself. I mean, come on! I was standing in the kitchen in *your* boxers! I would never say anything to anyone about you, about us. I know you aren't ready for it. But you just thought the worst of me. You don't trust me, and from the sound of what you said before you don't respect me, either. Hell, it sounded like you don't even *like* me."

"Dave," John said, knowing no matter what he was saying, Dave still believed that John didn't think much of him. And he wondered if he was just saying the wrong things, or if there just wasn't anything he *could* say that wouldn't hurt Dave. "Dave, I don't think you're stupid, and I know you'd never hurt me. I was just scared. Please, believe me, Dave. Please?"

There was a brief pause. Then, quietly: "You know, my old man used to talk to me like that. And I swore I'd never let anyone else do that. But here I am, letting you talk to me like that because I..." He stopped, letting the sentence hang, allowing John to contemplate what he'd wanted to say.

"Because you what?" John asked softly, wishing he'd continued with what he was about to say, needing to hear those words because somehow - even if it was crazy and irrational - John swore it would've made all of his problems disappear or at least seem small and stupid.

Dave looked up at John, his eyes squinting against the bright morning sun, which was still rising behind John. "I don't know why you want to be with me," he stated, leaving John's question unanswered. He suddenly looked away. "You...you still want...to be with me, right?"

"Of course I still want to be with you, Dave," he said softly, taking another step towards Dave, who didn't try to back away this time. John reached out and took Dave's hands in his, looking down into the younger man's eyes. He could see the fear in them, the genuine fear of John leaving him, and only then did the Chief Resident realize just how much he meant to Dave. "Dave, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that, and saying the things I did."

"And for being a dick?" Dave interrupted, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"And for being a dick," John clarified, taking the younger man into his arms and hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry, Dave. I didn't mean any of the things I said." He pulled back to look into Dave's eyes once more. "Do you forgive me?"

Dave nodded silently, giving John a closed smile. The two men embraced once more for several minutes, and John briefly considered that his grandmother knowing probably wasn't so bad. Now they wouldn't have to sneak around, and he wouldn't have to keep making up excuses. But most of all he was glad that he was finally being honest with her. And, walking arm and arm with Dave towards John's Jeep, he smiled, knowing he could get through this day with the events of this morning under his belt.

* * *

Now, laughing while sitting inside of the cafeteria with Abby, looking over the newspaper catalogue of apartments available with her, the nurse having figured out that the two men were moving in together, John considered that perhaps Dave and himself together wasn't something that needed to be kept secret. Finally, he could let go of those inhibitions that everyone was talking about, and just be with Dave - more importantly: be happy with Dave. And he didn't have to care who overheard or oversaw anything because no one else cared. Smiling contently, pointing out an apartment to Abby that was absolutely perfect in every way, John couldn't wait to share his epiphany with Dave after work.

-------------------------------------

Let me be the one to make the pain go away

Shed my skin and show a brand new face

You know I just wanna know that you're okay

-------------------------------------

"I want to come out."

Dave didn't even look up. "Of where?"

"The...you know..." John started, wondering what the hell else he could possibly be talking about coming out of. Dave then looked up at him, and John raised his eyebrows in an attempt to get his point across, but Dave only raised his eyebrows as well.

"The bar?" he asked, wondering if perhaps John wanted to go home. Maybe he was feeling uncomfortable around alcohol or something, Dave mused as he glanced at John's soda, knowing John didn't drink since recovering from his drug addiction. It was something that they still hadn't spoken of - John's drug addiction, that is - though both men knew that Dave was aware that it'd happened, even if John had desperately tried to hide that fact from his coworkers. "Do you want to go home?"

"No," John said, exasperation laced with his voice. He sighed, leaning forward in his chair, and Dave followed suit. "You know...the...closet."

"You do?" Dave asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise. Jeeze, this was the last thing Dave had expected, it wasn't a wonder that he was a little slow on the uptake. He smiled broadly, and in a moment of boldness placed his hand on top of John's. "What brought this on?"

"I don't know," John said, shrugging, and even though he'd just announced that he wanted to come out with their relationship, he still felt uncomfortable with Dave's hand on top of his in public, and glanced around surreptitiously. Thankfully, no one was watching or had noticed - yet. But it was time to face these fears, John thought to himself, so it didn't matter who was watching or noticing. "I mean, my Gamma knows and now Abby knows, and they have no problem with it, so why should anyone else? And if they do...fuck 'em."

Dave's smile broadened. "My thoughts exactly. Wow, this is really great."

"Oh," John said, remembering something. He reached inside of his coat pocket, which was hanging over the back of his chair, and pulled out the catalogue of apartments available, handing it to Dave. "I found a place you might like."

Dave took the newspaper, glanced it over, and frowned. "It's really nice, but I can't afford it."

"I can," John replied casually, leaning back in his chair.

"John," Dave said, looking up from the paper. "If we're going to get a place, then we're splitting the rent."

"Yeah," he said, then took a sip of his soda. "Sixty-forty."

"Try fifty-fifty."

"Dave," John said, placing his hand over the younger man's now. "In most...'normal' relationships, the man takes responsibility for most of the finances."

There was a pause before Dave looked up with narrowed eyes. "Are you saying that I'm the woman of this relationship? Because I am *not* the woman of this relationship."

John smiled at Dave, who was looking rather cute miffed. "I think you are."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I think you're wrong."

"I think you should prove it."

"I think I will."

-------------------------------------

Let me be the one to bring us back from the dead

I will take the blame for everything!

I just wanna help you forget

-------------------------------------

Having left the bar minutes later to go home and do just that, Dave suddenly pinned John to the wall outside in the darkness of the night, kissing him hard and running his tongue over those wonderful lips. John wanted to come out, to tell everyone that he was Dave's and Dave's was his, and there was no better feeling in the world than that. Plus, they were going to move in together into an apartment that was ten times better than the one Dave currently resided in. But first they were going to have sex, lots and lots of hot sex. A group of men passed by, laughing loudly, but Dave didn't even register them. It didn't matter anymore because they were coming out, so he didn't care.

Maybe he should've.

They paused near the two men, one stopping the rest, and as the laughter died down, he asked: "Dave?"

The younger man turned, his head snapping around at the familiar voice to see five faces of his hockey team. Oh, shit. After missing a major game a few nights ago to sleep in with John, they'd been the last people he wanted to see. And upon noting their hard expressions and angry eyes, he could tell he'd been wrong - he didn't want to see them at all.

"Hey, Pete, guys," Dave replied, nodding as he pulled away from John but kept one hand pressed to the wall, leaning against it. He darted his eyes from the glares, scratching the nape of his neck nervously. "What's up?"

"What the fuck is this?" Jake, the tall blonde who played defense, asked as he looked from Dave to John, and then back to Dave. He smiled, though there was no humor in it. "You're a fag!"

"No!" Dave immediately said, not liking how this conversation started or where he thought it was going to inevitably go. "No, I'm...just..."

"The fuck you ain't!" Mike exclaimed, his words slurred from too much drinking. Had they been inside of the bar when Dave and John had? Maybe they'd seen the two sharing a drink and had followed them out. John exchanged worried glances with Dave, wondering just who these guys were. "Kissing another guy, that makes you a fag!"

"So how long you been a faggot?" Pete spat, the obvious leader out of the pack. "Were you a faggot when you showered with us? That why you play hockey, so you can check out naked guys? So you can check *us* out??"

"No, I - "

"What about all those girls?" James asked before Dave could get in another word, recalling all those times Dave had brought chicks with him to the after-game parties, sometimes leaving with more than one. "I thought you liked girls."

"I do like girls," Dave clarified. He sighed with exasperation, ignoring John's worried glances. "Look, let's just go inside and have a beer, and we can talk about this. Okay?"

"I don't drink with faggots," Pete stated with a smirk, and the rest of the men agreed similarly.

"So...what?? You're bisexual or something?" James asked, clearly still trying to figure this out in his drunken stupor.

"Yes, James. I'm bisexual."

"So *this* is why you missed the big game?" Jake asked. "Because you were fucking some faggot??! We lost without our star goalie, you know."

"Yeah, I know we lost the game. I'm sorry," Dave replied as casually as possible, knowing that these five men were the jerks out of the whole team, taking games too seriously for Dave's liking, sometimes deliberately starting fights with opposing teams - even sometimes their own members. "But I got held up at work, and I couldn't..."

"Hanging out with this guy instead, Dave? Admit it! You were too busy to come to the game because you were fucking some guy up the ass," Mike interrupted before Dave could get in another word, taking a step closer to John and glancing over him in disgust. He turned to Pete. "But I thought you had to be a chick to be somebody's bitch? Guess not when you're a faggot."

"Guys, stop it. I told you, I got held up at work," Dave insisted as he moved to step between John and the three men. Doug, who had stayed near Dave thus far, reached out and placed an open palm on the Junior Resident's chest to stop him from doing so. "Doug, get your hand off of me."

"Make me," he replied, shoving Dave hard into the brick wall, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

"Hey," John intervened. *These* were Dave's hockey buddies? How could he stand these guys?? Well, there were only five here, so John supposed that the rest of the team might not be so bad. But as for these guys, he didn't trust their rationality and didn't like the direction this was heading in. "Let's just - "

"Shut up, bitch," James spat, pushing John into the wall as well, though not too roughly.

"Don't you dare touch him," Dave spat angrily, his muscles tensing instinctively and his fists clenching at his sides. "He didn't do anything to you."

"We lost the game because of him," James reminded him, before his eyes traveled over John, his dark gaze laced with perversion. "I can understand though, he *is* one fine-looking bitch."

Loud laughter roared over the five men, but Dave immediately silenced it, saying: "Stop calling him that."

"Why?" Pete asked angrily, standing flush to Dave, deliberately getting in the Junior Resident's face. "What are you going to do about it? Or maybe you're his bitch, and he's gonna take care of me? Are you the one that gets fucked up the ass? Or do you take turns?" He suddenly turned to Mike. "How *do* you figure that out, huh?"

"Beats the hell outta me," Mike stated.

Pete turned back to Dave, now taunting him - and dangerously so; John could tell that Dave was about to snap. "So, Dave? Are you the bitch and this faggot here is the man? You get fucked up the ass? You suck him off, too??"

In an instant, faster than John had ever seen him move, Dave's fist made contact with Pete's nose, a crunching noise resounding through the cold night air. The man stumbled back, holding his blood-spurting nose as he did so. He turned to Dave in surprise, and then charged at him, grabbing his shoulders and throwing him into the wall, the back of Dave's head making solid contact with the brick.

"Dave!" John exclaimed just as the younger man let out a short cry of pain. He attempted to assist the Junior Resident, but Doug kept a firm grip on his arm, Mike standing in his way as well. So he could only watch helplessly as Dave received a sudden punch in his stomach before he could even recover from his head hitting the wall. "Stop it!!"

"Shut up, bitch!" Mike yelled, shoving John back before he could get past them. Dave feebly reached out with a fist, but he was obviously dizzy from his hit to the head, so Pete had enough time to move out of the way, Dave stumbling past him. Jake grabbed the Junior Resident's arm, turning him and pushing him into the wall again, but luckily Dave had enough wits about him to hold out his hands to cushion himself before his face could make contact with the hard brick. "Watch out!"

Pete heard Mike's warning too late, and before he knew it, their star goalie was delivering a solid punch to his stomach, causing Pete to double over, gasping for breath. James grabbed Dave's shoulders, pushing him as Jake tripped him, and the Junior Resident fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. Knowing what was coming next, he curled up into a ball to defend himself against the kicks that he soon began to receive.

"Stop it!" John repeated, trying desperately to get past Doug and Mike, who were watching with an intensity in their eyes that told him they wished they could get in on the beating. Drunken with beer and violence and adrenaline, the five men began to laugh, taunting Dave with obscenities and insults.

"What's the matter, Malucci?" James asked, delivering another kick to Dave's abdomen. "Can't get up?"

"Come on, you pussy!" Mike called. "Fight back!! What - fags can't fight back?"

Determined to kick his way through Dave's spine, Jake spat: "Got anything to say for yourself, you little cocksucker??"

"Stop it!" John pleaded again, his voice cracking with fear. "Please, stop it!"

"Faggot," Pete said, and then spat on Dave's face, who flinched when it hit him. Another kick. "You make me sick."

"Stop it!!" John cried, trying to get past the two men so he could help Dave but unable to do so because the two men kept a firm grip on him, disallowing him from getting very far. "Stop it, you're *killing* him!!"

"What's going on out here?" In an instant, everything stopped as all of the men turned to face the owner/bartender of The Game Room, Anthony Pizzi, who was standing in the entranceway. Glancing over what was going on outside of his own bar, he immediately cast his eyes over the five culprits. "You better get the fuck outta here before I call the cops and have you all arrested, do you hear me??" The five men immediately took off into their cars and drove off, hooting with laughter as they did so. Anthony then turned to John. "Do you need an ambulance?"

"Yeah, my friend, he..." John trailed off, turning to Dave, who was still lying on the ground. When he'd turned away from him and to the bartender's interruption, Dave had been struggling. But now, when he'd turned back to him, John's heart was gripped with fear as he saw that he wasn't moving at all.

-------------------------------------

Sometimes I think

Letting go is just like giving up

Sometimes all I think about is falling apart

-------------------------------------
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