-----------------------------------------------
Chapter Twenty-Four: Used to Be
-----------------------------------------------
I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
-----------------------------------------------
When he'd been only waist-deep in water, David Malucci had thought
that the water was cold, but bearable. When he was chest deep, he
began to realize how crazy he was and he began to long for his warm
bed, but still he could feel his body. But it was a whole other story
when he was completely submerged in it, diving under and trying to pry
the bent and twisted bus door open, surfacing a few moments later for
air, going back down, getting your shirt stuck in the frigging door,
getting it unstuck, coming back up, going back down, and doing it
again. And again. And again.
"Are you getting it?" Sandy Lopez asked him, kicking her legs to stay
afloat. Before, he'd so proudly boasted that he could get it open by
himself � after all, they opened inward and he could easily do that
with a hard shove or two. "Well??"
"No," he admitted. "I thought � "
"Typical man," she muttered, shaking her head. "You all think the
same. It's no wonder I stick to women."
"Want to know why I stick to men?"
"If you tell me," she promised, "you won't be able to walk for a
while. Let's go down together and maybe we can get it. You know,
teamwork?"
"I'm familiar with the word."
"Really?" she asked. "Woulda never guessed."
He pulled a face as she grinned at him, and then she took a deep
breath, disappearing under the black water. He took a breath of his
own before following her down, hardly able to see anything under the
murky water, which stung their eyes. Luckily for them, several
spotlights from helicopters and machines lit up the water, allowing
them to make each other out along with the bus, however minimally.
The door of the bus was distorted in its frame, usually able to fold
inwards but now it bent outwards. Dave had kicked at it, pushed it,
even pulled it, but none of his maneuvers had worked. Now, Sandy
indicated for him to hold on to something and they would both attempt
to push it in with their feet, and he did as he was told, fearing for
his ability to walk correctly if he didn't listen.
He grabbed on to the side view mirror with both hands, Sandy grabbed
on to the empty frame of a broken window, and he could see the small
shards of glass cut into her skin as the water turned a muddy red. He
winced for her, pushing hard, grunting and watching as precious air
bubbles flowed from both of their mouths in their exertion.
The door groaned in protest as it began to shift, both of their weight
pushing, pushing, and they heard a loud snap echo through the water as
the door completely broke away from the frame. Dave indicated the
surface for more air but Sandy ignored him, pointing inside as she
swam into the frame. His lungs felt as if they were going to explode
right in his damn chest if he didn't get some air, but he choose to
trust her and followed her inside.
She proved to be rather intuitive. A small amount of air had been
trapped in the front end of the bus, and while it wasn't a lot it was
enough for them to take a few deep breaths and regain their bearings.
He was so close he could feel her body against him, and he was about
to make a lewd comment but she must've sensed it and pushed him
roughly away. He hit the back of his head against the wall for the
second time that night.
"Ow."
"You deserve it."
"I didn't even do anything."
"You were going to," she told him. "Christ, I'm freezing."
"I know, me too."
"Let's go see if we can find that kid and get out of here."
"Yeah," Dave said. "The longer we're here the more danger we're in.
Let's go."
He nodded, taking a few deep breaths before a final one, this time
leading the way into the bus. It was harder to maneuver through
twisted metal and broken seats than he thought it would be, but
luckily the bus was on its side and light penetrated through the
windows. His breath was readily running out as he fought to feel
between each seat, searching for a body, alive or otherwise.
He let out a small shout as he felt his hand come in contact with soft
material that could only be clothes. He tugged gently, pulled harder,
but couldn't budge the small body. Further, he moved up the boy's
body, finding a shoe, a leg, wrapping his hands around the small ankle
and pulling once more. No dice.
Suddenly he turned, pushing Sandy, pushing her back towards the air,
feeling his chest tightening, collapsing. He was going to be flattened
into nothing before he could get air. His fingers reached, found
water; reached further, found more water. His mind began to panic, and
for a moment he thought he was actually going to drown in this bus, in
the lake right along with Kyle. He thought of John, always wondering
if the man would be his last thought, but then he thought of air,
wanting it so desperately he ached. Or maybe that was just his chest
collapsing. Finally he felt air and finally he surfaced, Sandy doing
the same a few seconds later.
"God damn," he hissed. "I couldn't breathe. I found the kid, he's
under the water and he's stuck. He's not conscious, I left him there.
I couldn't breathe. Jesus, what if he's dead? What if I left him there
to die? I promised him I'd get him out, but I couldn't breathe, I � "
"Calm down, doc," she said, her own breath exploding from her. "You
can't do anything if you're unconscious too, if you need air come back
up. Let's try again, we'll be quicker now that we know where he is."
"You want to lead?" he asked her.
"You do it," she said. "You're stronger, you can help him more."
"Whoa."
"Tell anybody I said that?" she said. "You're dead. Let's go save that
kid."
---------------------------------------
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
------------------------------------
"Where are they?" John asked, more to himself than anyone else as he
paced back and forth on the steep hill, wringing his hands and tugging
at his hair and doing just about every other nervous habit there was.
"Come, on Dave...come on, just come up again...come up again."
He'd watched his lover go underwater and surface periodically for air,
but then suddenly he and Sandy had gone down together, and now they
were nowhere to be seen exactly seven minutes and thirty-two seconds
later. He bit his lip, swearing he was going to chew a hole in it
soon. He had tried to go into the water but those fucking firefighters
wouldn't let him near the bus no matter how much he begged and
pleaded. Too dangerous, they said. It's bad enough they had one doc in
there, let alone two. But they didn't understand, they couldn't...
"Come on, Dave," he begged. "Please, come on...you know you can't die
down there, you know you can't. God, you survive your father, getting
beat up by a hockey team, two underdoses and *me*, you can't die
now..."
"Anything yet??" Kerry called from the top of the hill.
John didn't take his eyes off of the bus. "No."
"They'll be all right."
"They've gotta be," John said.
----------------------------------------
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
---------------------------------------
Dave had no intention of dying. Whether or not death had an intention
for Dave was another story, and he was acutely aware of every passing
second with every tick of his watch. He knew, however subconsciously,
that it wasn't his watch he was hearing, that it had broken long ago
in the water. He knew it was the clock of Dave's Life, and of course
it didn't run on normal time. It ran about a dozen times faster,
reminding Dave that he was far from invincible with every passing
tick.
His eyes were of no use to him in the darkness of the bus, not with
this much collapsed steel around him. Just like a blind intubation, he
thought. Trust your other instincts. In that case, you trusted your
ears, trusted the instructions of someone else. In this case, he would
trust his sense of touch, trust Sandy. Just like that.
He felt the boy, felt up the boy's body, past his chest, all clear of
at least deep lacerations and penetrations. Further, he found the
boy's head, checked for a pulse � none. Goddamn, he thought, moving
further down his neck...across his shoulder, something wrong. It
jutted out at an odd angle, his arm was twisted back...and then metal.
It was trapped, stuck between the wall and the next seat.
He fought the urge to instinctively suck in air. If he was suffering
God knew what the boy had been through before passing out, so he
forced himself to bear it and to keep at the task at hand. Easier said
than done as Dave forced his body into the confinements of the seat,
his back against one and his feet against another. Pushing, pushing
with all his might, feeling his lungs exploding and flattening at the
same time, feeling his brain fogging up as if water itself was filling
his head...feeling the metal give way underneath his feet, feeling the
boy slip free and float above him. And then the boy was moving,
presumably pulled by Sandy, but Dave didn't know what happened after
that as he expelled stale air took a deep breath. Because all he
seemed to know was that he was in deeper shit than he'd ever been
before in his entire life.
------------------------------------------
I found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you
----------------------------------------
"I see someone!!" John yelled, glancing back to see Kerry carefully
making her way down the slope. He looked back to the water. "I
think...it's Sandy! And she's got...she's got the kid. She's got the
kid, she's bringing him out."
"Thank God." Kerry sounded at least half-relieved, but her voice was
still thickly laced with worry as she said, "But where's Dave?"
"God, I don't know," John said, his voice shaking so audibly he barely
recognized it as his own. He blinked back a stinging in his eyes as he
rubbed his mouth with his hand nervously. "Come on, Dave...where are
you??"
------------------------------------
I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with every day
------------------------------------
Sandy Lopez was pissed. It wasn't enough that she had to get stuck
with that cocky doc that Kerry was always ranting about. No, now she
had to save his ass too because he didn't know how to hold his damn
breath. How hard was that? You took in some air and you didn't let it
out. Couldn't follow simple instructions. Typical male.
You are too Goddamned heavy, she thought to herself, grabbing Dave's
arms and kicking backwards through the murky water, kicking with all
of her energy just to get to the damn air that was still trapped in
the bus. She pulled him up with her, her breath coming to her in short
bursts as she checked for a pulse. Still there, still strong, but he
definitely wasn't breathing.
"Come on, Dave," she muttered, pulling him close to her and trying to
perform the Heimlich to expel the water from his lungs, but it was too
hard in the water. "Christ, we came this far and now you're going to
die? Stop being such a dick and wake the fuck up! Don't make me put my
mouth on yours, kid. These lips ain't touched a man's since the tenth
grade, I ain't starting now."
------------------------------------------
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
-----------------------------------------
"She went back under," Kerry said quietly, almost to herself. "Why
would she do that?"
"I don't know," John replied, his stomach doing somersaults. God, he
felt like he was going to vomit any second, but he forced himself to
stay strong. He had to stay strong for Dave, he had to. "Something
must've happened. Something happened to Dave. Oh, my God, something
happened to Dave."
"John, just calm down," she said, placing a hand that was supposed to
be reassuring on his arm. "We don't know anything yet."
He shook his head, his folded hands pressed to his mouth so fiercely
he could bruise his lips. He wasn't aware he was speaking for a few
moments until he heard himself, quiet words he could barely hear
without listening with some strain.
"Please, God, please..." he prayed. "Please don't do this...please
don't do this to me, don't do this to Dave...please, God, I'm begging
you here...please..."
Kerry must've heard him, or at least sensed his desperation. "John..."
"Oh, my God!" he shouted, his breath exploding from him as he took a
step towards the bus. "She's got him, she's got him! But he's not
moving, he's not moving." He knew he was repeating himself but he
couldn't help it, and he knew he should've been relieved but he
wasn't; he couldn't help that either. Dave wasn't moving at all as
Sandy dragged his body out of the water and onto the shore. "Why isn't
he moving? I have to go down there, I'm going down there. I have to
help him."
"Hurry!" Kerry yelled from behind him, as if he had any other
intention right now.
---------------------------------------
And be the one who catches all your tears
That's why I need you to hear
----------------------------------------
He wasn't breathing. A doctor who didn't know how to breathe, it was
absolutely unheard of. Ridiculous. Sandy was going to have to talk to
Kerry about this; she really needed to train her staff better. If they
couldn't perform their own bodily functions, how were they supposed to
help other people with theirs?
She clasped one hand on top of the other and placed them on Dave's
chest, pumping like she'd seen the paramedics do hundreds of times
before. She'd been trained in CPR, but how long ago had that been? She
couldn't remember if it was five breaths and ten compressions or ten
breaths and five compressions...maybe if she did seven and seven she
would be okay...
Carefully, she tipped his head back, pinching his nose. "I can't
believe you're going to make me do this," she griped, before placing
her mouth on his and breathing for him, seven breaths because she kept
switching her numbers up. She sure hoped it wouldn't make a
difference, that if she didn't do ten his lungs were going to cave in
or something. Then she'd really be in for it.
"You're doing it wrong."
"I knew it!" she hissed, shaking her head ruefully. "Are his lungs
gonna deflate?"
"I don't think so," John Carter replied, kneeling down on the other
side of Dave. "You've got your hands in the wrong place. On his chest,
not his solar plexus."
"Well �scuse me," she said, holding up her hands in defense. "We
wouldn't be in this mess in the first place if he knew how to hold his
breath right."
"Why did you let him go down there?" John snapped, pumping on his
lover's chest, silently willing Dave to breathe. Just let the water
come out, Dave, just come back to us. Come back to *me*. "Come on,
damn it. What happened to his leg??"
"First of all, I didn't let him do anything, he made his own choice,"
Sandy replied, causing John's anger to flare. She glanced at the tear
in Dave's jeans, revealing a long laceration that started from the top
of his thigh and ran nearly all the way to his knee. "And I don't know
what happened. Must've got cut on the way out. When am I supposed to
do the mouth thing?"
"Now," he told her, and watched her carefully, making sure she was
doing it correctly. "Don't go so fast or he won't have a chance to get
the water out."
"I don't know how to do this," she admitted. "Why ain't he breathing?
Stupid kid, a scene like this ain't no place for a doctor."
"Then why'd you let him go??" John asked again, pressing harder, too
hard, so hard he felt a rib crack beneath his hands. He let up
quickly, pulling his hands back as if he'd been burned. "Shit, I think
I just cracked one of his ribs. Fuck. God damn it! Dave, would you
just fucking breathe!?"
"Cool it, doc," Sandy said, ignoring the glare he tossed her way. "And
I told you, I didn't *let* him do anything, he wanted to go. More
breaths??"
"Yeah. Try it."
She leaned down again, covering her mouth with his, pinching his nose
and making sure only air went in. Come on, Dave, John prayed silently,
continuing compressions as Sandy continued her own task. But still,
the young man refused to breathe, and John knew the longer he didn't
get oxygen the bigger the chance of brain damage got, the bigger the
chance of death got. And he couldn't imagine Dave dead, couldn't
imagine never waking up beside him, never seeing those eyes open
again, never seeing those lips smile, never...
"Come on!" he cried with frustration, his voice breaking in anguish.
"Breathe, God damn it. Please, Dave, just breathe! Please..."
Sandy placed her mouth on his once more, ready to try again when
suddenly Dave heaved, retching up water first in Sandy's mouth and
then onto the ground when John turned him so he wouldn't aspirate. And
John was sure he'd never felt more relief ever before in his entire
life than he did right now, seeing Dave coughing and retching, wet and
shivering, looking absolutely haggard but absolutely alive.
"Gross!" Sandy yelled, spitting onto the ground. "You threw up in my
*mouth*, you jerk!"
As he rolled onto his back once more, she punched him in the arm and
he recoiled. His eyes were closed. "Nobody said you had to give me
mouth to mouth," he croaked, taking in deep breaths of air,
practically swallowing gulps, relishing in the dirty, disgusting
Chicago air he thought he'd never taste again.
"Somebody had to do it," she retorted. "Wouldn't a had to if you knew
how to hold your damn breath."
Dave smiled weakly, regaining his bearings, remembering what had
happened in bits and pieces. He remembered nearly popping his eyes out
trying to get that metal to move, remembered getting it to move,
remembered the boy moving...and then he'd taken an instinctive breath,
signing his death wish, buying the farm, circling the drain, whatever
other metaphor you wanted to use. Thank God Sandy hadn't left his ass
behind, or he would've been sucking dirty water for the rest of his
short life. He opened his eyes to thank her and suddenly realized that
they weren't alone. She hadn't been the only one to save him. John
Carter was there, right beside him, desperately blinking back tears
and obviously fighting the urge to show more emotion than he wanted
to. "John..." he began, but was cut off sharply.
"You are so fucking stupid," he said, his voice thick and quavering.
Not exactly the reaction Dave was hoping for, or one that he'd even
expected. And then John was standing, walking away from him and back
up the hill.
Sandy nodded as if she'd predicted this, and then turned to Dave.
"Looks like I ain't the only one sleeping on the couch tonight."
He sat up, sighing and then putting a hand to his throbbing head. He
felt like it was full of water, too much and it was pressing against
his skull, ready to burst. He closed his eyes and saw blackness as
dark as the lake before them.
"You okay, kid?" she asked softly from beside him.
"Everything hurts," he said quietly, and then shook his head, clearing
his thoughts. He smiled weakly. "Uh...you know...thanks."
"You'd do it for me." She stood. "You stay here and let me get some
help. Oh, and good luck, by the way."
"Thanks," he said sourly, sighing heavily. "I'm going to need it."
------------------------------------------
I found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you
------------------------------------------
The first thing Kerry did when she saw that Sandy was alive and safe
was pull her into an embrace and kiss her hair, wrapping a warm
blanket around her. The first thing John had done when he'd seen Dave
alive and safe was call him stupid � fucking stupid, to be exact � and
Dave didn't really appreciate that. Not to mention he had to get his
own blanket.
They sat close in the ambulance, holding one another. Kerry and Sandy,
that is, because why would John want to show any public displays of
affection for the one he loved? You only did that when you weren't
ashamed of your relationship. Obviously, Kerry wasn't ashamed, even if
she was the Chief of the Emergency Department, and had tons of
superiors and patients and coworkers and subordinates breathing down
her neck every day, constantly scrutinizing and criticizing. She
didn't care because she wasn't ashamed.
John, sitting on the same side of the rig as Dave, obviously didn't
feel the same way for him that Kerry felt for Sandy. John, sitting as
far away from Dave as he could, obviously was ashamed of Dave, was
ashamed to be with him. Maybe because he was another man, but Dave
couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was because of whom he was. Why
would anyone feel that way about Dave Malucci, much less a smart,
funny, rich and caring guy like John Carter, a guy nearly at the top
of the ER food chain. And Dave was just, well...he was just
bottom-of-the-barrel Dave. If it were someone like Luka, would John be
out already? Someone like Dr. Benton?
So he sat there in the back of the ambulance, wet and cold and alone,
wrapped up in a thermal blanket given to him by an EMT, and shivering
his ass off, the laceration on his leg burning like acid with all the
disinfectant they'd put on it before gauzing it up. He bet he looked
pretty pathetic. Right now, if he were John, he'd probably hide their
relationship too, even if he'd almost died.
And then it hit him: He'd almost died. He'd seemed to have several
brushes with death lately, but none he could so clearly remember as
what had happened only moments ago. He could still feel his chest
tightening as he struggled to breathe underwater, so painful as he
fought to hold on to consciousness, feeling such black darkness
creeping up on him until finally he'd given in. There had been nothing
after that, absolutely nothing. Darkness so complete he could imagine
himself nonexistent, as if he'd never ever been born.
Dave had always imagined that that must be what it was like to die. He
hadn't believed in God in a long time, and he figured if there was no
God, then you just...stopped. There was no Heaven or Hell, just
nothing. He'd tried to kill himself just over a month ago, when he was
younger as well, and he'd considered that when he died he would be
nothing, and that would be okay because he wouldn't feel anything
anymore, wouldn't wish for anything anymore, wouldn't dream anymore,
wouldn't miss anyone anymore. He just wouldn't do *anything* anymore,
he would just stop. And that would be okay, because he didn't want to
do any of that other stuff anymore.
But now he knew he'd been very, very wrong. And if that's what death
was, then he didn't want to die. Not yet, not when he had so much
feeling and wishing and dreaming and missing to do. He wasn't ready
yet, and while he hadn't died he could still feel the absolute
nothingness and it scared the shit out of him. He gasped audibly,
pressing his knuckles against his lips to stifle it, and now he was
shaking for a different reason.
"Dave, are you all right?" Kerry asked, her eyes ever watchful.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he replied, but he wasn't, he was far from
fine, he was the opposite of fine, he was anti-fine. He nodded
vigorously, trying to convince his companions and also himself, but
that was the absolute wrong thing to do because suddenly he was dizzy
and his internal organs were defying all previous medical knowledge
because his heart was in his throat and his stomach was in the empty
place that his heart used to be.
"Can you breathe okay?" one of the paramedics asked, glancing up from
the small boy they were bagging and still attempting to resuscitate.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he repeated, and now there was a twisting in his
stomach, which was still in his chest, and suddenly he was wishing he
hadn't eaten those oily, greasy slices of pizza for dinner, the ones
leftover from two days ago that he'd heated up in the microwave in the
Lounge because he had tons of patients and no time to get a real meal.
If only he'd gotten a real meal... "I just...I think...I think I'm
going to be sick."
"Here," the EMT said, quickly giving Dave an emesis basin, nearly
chucking it at him, and the instant it hit Dave's hands he was
throwing up, vomiting what felt like everything he'd eaten for the
past *week*, let alone those disgusting pieces of pizza he'd eaten for
dinner. He sat back, leaning against the wall behind him, handing the
basin back to the paramedic and thanking him gracelessly. "Hey, man,
thank *you* for not throwing up on the floor. I just cleaned this damn
rig."
"Hey, Malooch," Sandy called, eradicating the �i' from his name to
create a rather odd nickname that he'd heard before, but not since
Lucy Knight. She was watching him carefully, her face etched with
worry. "You sure you okay? You don't look too hot."
"I'm fine," he said yet again, trying to remind himself to be fine,
but it wasn't working out too well. And John was just sitting there,
silent, as still as a statue. No reassuring words or reassuring
touches, and Dave didn't even dare to consider a reassuring kiss.
"Should be more worried about the kid. Is he gonna make it?"
"Looks that way," the EMT replied, "but we don't know about brain
damage."
"He'll be fine," Dave said, looking at the paramedic as if suggesting
anything else was ridiculous. He leaned forward, ignoring the pain in
his leg as he did so, wondering if Kyle was aware of what was
happening to him. What if he was scared? Scared because this was
happening and he was all alone? Dave could relate. But while no one
could help him, he could help this kid, and he sure as hell would with
everything he had. Quietly, he whispered into the boy's ear, "Don't
worry, kiddo. I promised you'd be okay, and you will be. And don't
worry, you're not alone, okay? Someone'll be with you until your
parents come. And if no one'll do it, then I will."
"You sure you're okay?" Sandy asked, as Dave leaned back in his seat
once more.
He'd been about to reply but thank God the ambulance stopped moving.
They were at County, the doors were pushed open and everything was
suddenly in motion. The gurney was rolled out; the EMTs were gone;
Kerry and Sandy stepped out of the ambulance, both carefully for
different reasons (Kerry because of her crutch, Sandy because of her
exhaustion); and then it was Dave's turn to leave, and suddenly there
was a hand on his arm, trying to help him, but he pulled away roughly,
almost falling when he did so.
"Get away from me," he snapped, glaring at John, wondering where the
fuck he got the audacity to do something like that. There was another
arm on his then, and he turned to see Luka and Abby looking rather
worried. He allowed himself to be helped from the ambulance, but only
because he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to do it by himself.
"Dave, are you okay?" Abby asked, and the instant his injured leg
touched the ground it gave out and he nearly collapsed into Luka. Abby
grabbed his other arm. "Jesus, what were you thinking??"
"He wasn't," John responded.
"Shut up, asshole," Dave spat.
"What's your problem??" John asked, surprise written all over his face
although Dave wasn't sure why. He could see the surprise on Luka and
Abby's face as well, but he ignored it.
"What the hell's *your* problem?" Dave retorted, leaning heavily on
his friends, his arms draped over each of their shoulders. They were
his only friends, friends who weren't afraid to let everyone know they
liked him, friends who weren't ashamed of him. He looked up and saw
the confusion in John's eyes, and fought the urge to punch him right
in the face. Instead, he spat, "You don't even know."
"What're you talking about??" John asked, his tone laced with
desperation. "Why are you mad at me?"
"If you don't know," Dave replied, "then I...I don't even know what to
say to you."
"Dave," Abby interjected, tugging on his arm gently in the direction
of the ER. "Let's go inside."
But Dave didn't move, he just watched John, watching him, looking
right into his eyes, trying to figure out why Dave was so mad at him,
what he'd done wrong. Dave hadn't really expected him to hug him or
kiss him or anything like that, right? He couldn't ask something like
that from John, not with all of those people watching, judging. God
knew what they would think, or do. What if they didn't like him
anymore? Or thought he was incapable of being a doctor? Or a friend?
Dave had gotten beaten from his hockey buddies, what would those
people watching do to John? They could report him, or get him fired,
or...something, he didn't know what. And he didn't want to find out.
Dave knew better than to ask something like that, he had to be upset
for a different reason. But why? Then it hit John. It was that
"fucking stupid" comment. Sure, it had been a little harsh, but he'd
been upset himself. After all, Dave had nearly died, would've left
John all alone, without his second half. He knew Dave could get
sensitive about stuff like that, about what people said to him and how
it was said. He took more things to heart than people thought, feeling
more than he ever let on. Maybe John had hurt his feelings, especially
saying that in front of someone else. Perhaps he'd embarrassed him.
"Dave," John said softly. "I didn't mean what I said before."
"Dave, come on," Luka interjected warily. "Let's get you checked out.
You've probably got hypothermia and the laceration could get infected
if we don't � "
"What?" Dave asked John, ignoring Luka completely, or maybe he just
didn't hear him. He looked as if he was going to say more, but all
that came out was another, "What??"
"When I said you were stupid," he clarified, ignoring the cold look
cast at him by Abby. Did she always have to be so damn protective? "I
didn't meant it, I was just � "
Suddenly Dave clenched his fists, letting out a cry of frustration as
he took a step back. "God! You make me so angry I could strangle
you!!"
"What is wrong with you??" John asked, startled and puzzled, glancing
at Luka and Abby as if they could help him. They only stared blankly
back. Although Abby was, of course, looking at him as if this were his
entire fault.
"John, Dave," they heard, and turned to see Kerry leaning heavily on
her crutch. "Why aren't the two of you inside? Especially you, Dave.
What's � "
"Me??" Dave yelled back to John, wishing he could get right in the
man's face and yell and yell until he had no voice left. "What's wrong
with *me*?? What is wrong with *you*!? I almost died! I almost died
and the only thing you can do is sit there � "
"Sit there??" John retorted. "I saved your life!"
"That's not what I'm talking about!" Dave replied, his voice
quavering.
"I tried to jump in the water but the firefighters wouldn't let me!"
"That's not what I mean!"
"Then what?!" John cried, frustrated. "What do you mean??"
"Do you even care? Do you even care that I almost died??"
"Dave..." John warned, glancing sideways at Kerry.
"Fuck you!!" Dave shouted. "I don't care how much she hears, I don't
care if she knows!"
"I do!" John exclaimed. What was Dave thinking! Kerry was the head of
the Emergency Room Department! Was he crazy?? "And I'm not having this
conversation with you here."
"I'm having this conversation here!!" Dave cried, pointing to the
ground as if to punctuate his sentence.
"Dave," Abby warned softly, worriedly.
He calmed, but his eyes were still wild with anger and sadness. "I'm
having this conversation here, John. I could've died and I would've
never known you didn't give a shit. Do you have any idea how that
makes me feel?"
"Dave, you know how I feel about you," he said quietly, acutely aware
of the fact that Kerry wasn't budging, and that Luka and Abby weren't
either, they were just helping Dave stand but looking awfully
uncomfortable.
Dave shook his head. "You don't love people you're ashamed of, John.
You can't."
"I'm not ashamed of you."
"Then why are you hiding??"
"I'm not hiding, I'm just...I'm just not ready."
"When will you be?" Dave challenged. "How much longer is it going to
take? How much longer am I going to be your dirty little secret??"
"Dave, please," John pleaded, holding out his hands in desperation.
"I'm just...Dave, I'm scared."
"Well, suck it up, John," was the surprising reply he received.
"Because I'm tired of waiting, I'm tired of pretending. All my life
I've had to pretend to be something I'm not, and I won't do it
anymore. I can't. It's killing me here, that I keep having to hide.
That every time I get too close to you in public you get weird, or
when I kiss you when no one's around you freak out, even when the
door's locked. It kills me that you don't want anyone to know I love
you, or that you love me." He paused, his eyes glistening with tears
that sparkled like the stars in the night sky above them. "John, for
the first time in my life, I'm not scared to be who I am. And I won't
let anyone, not you or anyone, force me to hide. It's now or never.
And that's it."
John glanced at Kerry, at Luka and Abby, wishing they could have this
conversation somewhere else, anywhere else, just not here, in front of
them.
"Why do you care what they think??" Dave asked, catching the glance,
catching John's eye. "Why are they so important to you? Why are they
more important than me? Why is everyone more important than me??"
"Dave," John said, fighting the hesitance in his voice. "Dave, you
know...you know you're more...Dave, you..."
"I'm finished here, John," Dave suddenly said quietly, but not so
quietly that John didn't hear the quavering in his voice, reflected in
the tears brimming in Dave's eyes. "I'm done."
"What do you mean?" John asked, alarmed.
"I mean that...it's either me, or..." Dave trailed off, looking up to
meet John's eyes, looking so pained and defeated John's breath caught
in his throat. "Or whatever it is you're trying to accomplish here."
"Dave..." John pleaded, desperate eyes meeting desperate eyes. "Dave,
I can't...you know I can't, I..."
The young man glanced off, nodding as he fought to maintain his
composure. "Then congratulations, John," he said softly, his voice
thick. "You win." He looked to Luka. "Take me inside. I want to go
inside, please."
And John stood there, silent and still, unable to do anything else
besides watch Dave turn and limp away from him with Abby and Luka's
help, watch the young man cross the ambulance bay, walk right into the
hospital and right out of John's life. Out of his life, just like
that, without hesitation or so much as a glance back.
No, no, John argued with himself. That wasn't possible, Dave couldn't
just be gone. He'd come home, they'd both come home and it would be
fine. They'd fight some more but John would find the right things to
say, and then they'd go to bed and make love and fall asleep, and
tomorrow morning things would be back to normal and it would be fine.
The sound of the ambulance bay doors sliding closed echoed throughout
the parking lot. And then another sound, the sound of a crutch hitting
John in the front of his shin. He yelled out in protest, grabbing his
leg and glancing at Kerry incredulously.
"Carter, if I could suspsend you for being an idiot, I would," she
said, her eyes hard and cold. "You have ten seconds to get in there,
or I will."
"I..."
"Well? What are you waiting for? A written invitation?" she asked. He
looked at her dubiously. "Fresh out of excuses?"
"No, I just � "
"You'd just better get in there," she finished for him. "Before it's
too late."
He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before breaking into a
run.
----------------------------------------
I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
-------------------------------------------
"Wait!"
Dave had expected John to follow him inside and try to talk to him,
try to convince him to hide just a little bit longer. Just a little
bit longer, that's what it always was. Just until he was ready. Just
until he wasn't scared. Just until he realized Dave was worth it, that
he shouldn't be ashamed. Just a little bit longer.
"Dave, wait!"
But how much longer was a little bit longer?
"Dave," Abby said, but he cut her off.
"Don't. Don't stop walking, because I won't."
"Dave, come on, wait a second!"
They'd been together for eight months, the longest Dave had ever been
with someone in years. Was it going to take eight more months? Or
maybe John didn't think they'd last that long.
"Dave!! Wait!"
But he was tired of waiting. Tired of waiting and pretending and
hiding. Sick and tired of it. And he wouldn't do it anymore, he
wouldn't be pushed around. Not by the man he loved, not by anybody. It
was all or nothing, that was how it was going to be, he was worth that
much, whether John thought so or not. And if John couldn't accept that
then �
"Dave � " Luka now, but he shook his head and kept moving as best as
he could.
"I said don't stop walking!"
"Dave!" John yelled, grabbing his arm, pulling him away from Luka and
Abby, pulling him so hard he spun into John, knocking right into him
and collapsing into his arms. John didn't move away and Dave didn't
either, defiance glaring in Dave's eyes, daring John to do something.
The ER was watching with bated breath, ready for a fistfight right in
the middle of Admin. Dave could almost picture Randi starting a pool
to see who would win, passing the clipboard of bets to Haleh and Chuny
and Yosh, Abby and Luka and Jing-Mei.
But instead, they would get the opposite of what they'd hoped for,
maybe get exactly what they wanted in hindsight. Because instead of
John punching Dave out, or Dave punching John out, John slipped his
hands on either side of Dave's face and pulled him into the most
passionate and breathless kiss he could've ever mustered up alone or
in a crowded ER.
Dave was so surprised at first he didn't react, just stood there,
allowing himself to be kissed. And then he realized holy fuck John's
kissing me in the middle of the goddamned ER! He couldn't just let
something like that go, not if it was the only steamy kiss he was
every going to have in front of everyone. Quickly, he regained his
bearings and grabbed John's shirt in his fists, pulling him even
closer, really getting into it, tongue and spit and everything, and
when they eased out of it, panting or gasping or both, he leaned his
forehead against John's and chuckled softly, saying, "Oh. You meant
*wait*."
"Yeah," John replied. "I meant wait."
They were suddenly aware of the absolute silence around them, and both
men took a mutual step back as they realized they were the focus of
attention. It had been John's intent but now he blushed profusely,
even as he felt more euphoric than he ever had after taking any drug.
And one hit later he was addicted and wanted more. Because Dave was
his man and everyone knew it, and it felt...right. It felt right.
John smiled as he reached out and took Dave's hand, feeling a thrill
run through him as he saw the almost childlike delight in Dave's face
at the gesture. Dave leaned forward and now it was John's turn to be
kissed, and it seemed to snap the ER out of it's daze, and abruptly
there was clapping, then hooting, and now a full-on cheer.
"Excuse me," Kerry Weaver interrupted, hitting the back of Dave's
ankles with her crutch, then poking at John's shin. "This is a
professional workplace, if I recall. Show's over, everybody, get back
to work! Dave, Curtain Area Two, please."
There was a uniformed groan that echoed in Dave's head, wishing he
could kiss John all day, in front of everybody they knew. Showing
everybody they loved one another too much to let others stand in their
way, force them to hide. Showing everybody they were proud, not
ashamed but proud, proud as they held hands walking down the hall and
all the way to Curtain Two.
---------------------------------------
I found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you
-----------------------------------
"I'm so sorry, Dave," John said, as he stitched up Dave's thigh, the
young man sitting awkwardly in a gown, hating the damn things and how
exposed they made him feel. Especially without underwear on, which had
been just as soaked as the rest of his clothes and too wet to stay in.
"I know," he replied, watching John expertly thread in and out of
Dave's skin. It was actually kind of cool to watch and not feel any
pain, however gross it should've been.
"I didn't know how important it was to you," he continued, lacing in
and out, in and out, sewing in such a way to cause as little scaring
as possible, although that was going to be one pretty big scar anyway.
"I know."
"You're not my dirty little secret."
"I know," Dave repeated, more firmly this time, hoping John wouldn't
apologize again while tacking another mark in the tally he was keeping
track of in his head. John had apologized about thirty-four times
since coming into this room. "It really means a lot to me what you
did. But I'm sorry I, you know...pressured you."
"No, you're not," John said with a grin that Dave returned.
"You're right," he stated, almost giggling. "Did you see the look on
their faces? Especially Jing-Mei! Did you see her?? Her jaw dropped so
far she looked like a blowup doll."
He imitated her expression and John chuckled, shaking his head as he
cut the thread and began to dress the wound. "You're really something
else, you know that?"
Dave smiled, meeting John's eyes. "You're not so bad yourself. Once
you get used to you, that is."
John rolled his eyes, finished with the wound and moving so he could
sit down on the bed next to Dave, slightly facing him. He took one of
Dave's hands in his, bringing it to his mouth to kiss the backs of
Dave's knuckles. He smiled as he saw the flush rise in Dave's cheeks,
never one to know how to respond to romance, shy despite his
reputation.
"Dave, I really am sorry," he said, reaching out with his other hand
and touching the side of Dave's face, scratchy stubble beginning to
show. Dave didn't think he ever looked attractive with five o'clock
shadow, but John begged to differ. Although he was probably a little
biased: he thought Dave looked attractive no matter what. "I'm sorry
about the past couple months, and not being there for you...I'm sorry
for the whole time making you think I was ashamed of you or that I
didn't love you, or both...and I'm sorry about tonight, especially
tonight. I should've been there for you, and I wasn't. And I'm so
sorry."
"It's okay," Dave replied, smiling reassuringly, reaching out to touch
the side of John's face as well.
"Dave, I was so scared I was going to lose you," he said, his voice
thick. John placed his hand on top of Dave's, holding it there fast.
"I was so scared you were dead and I'd never see you ever again. I'm
sorry I made you think that I didn't care. If you'd died thinking
that, Dave...I don't know what I'd do. I can't let you live the rest
of your life thinking that and die with it, Dave. I'm so sorry."
"Hey, it's okay," he said softly, pulling John into an embrace. "You
don't have to worry, John. It's okay now."
John pulled back and saw that smile he'd been so scared he'd never see
again. And that smile broadened as John leaned in close, brushing his
lips gently against Dave's, so sweetly, and if they weren't making
Dave stay overnight (along with Sandy) for "observation," he knew they
would've made love tonight. Hell, maybe they still would, he thought
rather naughtily, wondering if there was a lock on the door.
"I told you they weren't pulling our legs!" Randi's voice from the
doorway, startling the two men and causing them to abruptly pull away
from one another. "I know passion when I see it, and *that* was
passion."
"Dave's straighter than a straight line," Haleh scoffed, crossing her
arms over her chest in disbelief. "I know seeing is believing, but..."
"Oh, come on," Chuny said, indicating Dave and John. "Just look at
them. They're so in love. Aren't you guys?"
John glanced at Dave. Dave glanced at John. John looked back to the
three women, along with a few other nosy staff members, taking Dave's
hand in his. He grinned broadly, glancing back to his lover, to his
Dave. "We sure are."
------------------------------------------
I found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you
---------------------------------
To be concluded...
Copyright Footer', 'This site is not affiliated in any way with "ER", its writers or production company, or NBC, and makes no profit from the show. The ERROS skin is by Brihana. The script is eFiction version 3.4.2© Tammy Keefer, http://efiction.org\r\n