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John Carter had been missing for three days. The secret love affair
was a secret no longer. He'd left the apartment, running late for
work and had driven instead of taking the El, then vanished into
thin air. When Luka came into work that first evening, everyone asked
him if knew where Carter was. The phone had gone unanswered, because
Luka had been at his own apartment, packing the remainder of his
belongings.

When he'd recovered somewhat from the shock, Luka quietly told Mark
Greene that something was seriously wrong. Mark took the news of
their relationship in his stride, he had more important things to
worry about. Both men went to call Lydia at home. Luckily, her
husband, a Chicago policeman, was also off duty and answered the
phone. Mark related their deep concern and gave Al the license number
for Carter's jeep. Although a 24-hour waiting period was usually
required, Al agreed that the circumstances merited immediate action.

Next, Luka and Mark alerted the other hospitals. There might have
been an accident and Carter could have been admitted as a "John Doe".
Finally, Mark waited until Luka had gone to get coffee for the two of
them before calling the City Morgue. He spoke quickly with the Chief
Coroner promising to fax over a picture of the missing resident. He'd
barely hung up when Luka returned.

"Call the morgue." He said in a voice like ashes. "I don't want to be
kept in the dark."

"I already did. He's not there." Mark didn't have to say "yet". They
were both thinking it. "Luka, you should go home. There's a chance
someone will call there. You're in no condition to work."

"No, Mark. I'm staying here. I'll keep checking our messages. I won't
try to treat patients unless I have no choice. Let me update charts,
do inventory, something. I'll go mad in that apartment wondering what
could have happened."

"Ok, if you're sure." Mark sighed.

That was three days ago. No trace of John Carter had been detected.
None of the area hospitals reported treating anyone who resembled the
young doctor. Luka thanked God that the morgue also continued to
reply to their inquiries in the negative. Dr. Weaver, as ER Chief,
had the onerous duty of telephoning the Carter family the first day.
After hanging up the phone, she sat for a moment then went to find
Luka.

"I'm sorry, Luka. John's grandparents have heard nothing. No ransom
demands, nothing."

"Thank you, Kerry. Under the circumstances, I did not want to be the
one to call them. They must be as worried as we are."

"Yes." Kerry said simply. She had been shocked by Robert Carter's
casual reaction. She saw no need to burden Luka with this. Perhaps,
the stiff upper lip had been in place and underneath, the old man was
really worried about his grandson, but somehow, she doubted it. He'd
thanked her for notifying him in a manner more suitable to receiving
the news that a package delivery had been delayed. Even when she told
him that they had alerted hospitals and the morgue, he'd simply
thanked her again and then hung up.

By the end of the week was Luka was frantic. There had been no word
from anyone. The Jeep had not been found either. Apart from brief
trips to their apartment to get clothes, Luka spent all of his time
at County. He'd left their bedroom just as it was that morning, when
they had made love before John left for work and he went to pack up
his old apartment.

"Don't make the bed." John had called out from the bathroom. I'll do
it when I get home." John was late for work and laughing, blew a kiss
to Luka while he was dressing. "I love you.", and he was gone.

Two weeks later, Carter's Jeep was found in the parking lot of an
abandoned building. It looked as if it had been in a serious
accident. There were traces of blood on the driver's seat and door
handle. Vandals had removed almost everything else. When Mark gently
broke this news to Luka, he passed out. When he came to, Kerry went
with him to the room he was using on the fifth floor. She gave him a
sleeping pill and sat with him as he cried himself to sleep.

Luka woke at 3:30 in the morning from a nightmare in which he heard
John calling for help but could not see him. He felt completely
powerless. He put on his shoes and headed downstairs. The ER was
virtually deserted. Frank was dozing at the desk. Jing-Mei looked up
from some patient charts and gave a half-hearted smile. "He'll turn
up Luka, he has to."

"I'm not so sure." Luka sat down heavily as Dave Malucci came around
the corner.

"Here's your sandwich, Jing-Mei. You owe me. Hey, Luka, I'm sorry
man. Try not to worry too much. Carter's a pretty smart dude. If some
bad guys are holding him, you can believe, he'll charm his way out of
there."

"Not if he's dead." Luka said quietly. He had always believed he
would know if something terrible had happened to John. The bond
between them was a powerful one. Less than a month into their
relationship, they'd begun finishing each other's sentences. John had
even joked that after a lifetime of living with and loving Luka, he
would die very wealthy thanks to pennies he didn't have to spend to
find out what Luka was thinking. Now, Luka was beginning to have
serious doubts. It was as if John had never existed.

* * * * *

John Carter slowly regained conciousness in what appeared to be a
hospital room. He had a terrible headache and the cottony feel in his
mouth led him to believe he'd been under anesthesia. When he tried to
sit up, he discovered he'd been restrained; his arms tied to rails on
either side of the bed.

"Good, you're awake.", the voice belonged to a male orderly. "Are you
going to behave yourself?"

John nodded in response, completely mystified. What had happened?
Where was he?

"Ok, then I'll take these off. But I'm warning you, any outbursts and
you'll wish wrist restraints were the only things we'll use to make
you obey orders." The man unbuckled the straps and watched as John
feebly tried to rub some feeling back into his hands.

"I'm sorry, but where am I? What happened? Was I in an accident?"
John's voice was raspy as if it had been unused for some time.

"What do you remember?"

John thought for a few minutes. "I was late for work. I was driving
and this van rear-ended me. I got out to see if anyone needed help
and that's it until I woke up just now. I wasn't injured so why am I
here?"

Before the orderly could reply, another man, dressed in a lab coat,
came in. He examined the chart at the foot of the bed then gestured
for the orderly to leave.

"You honestly don't know why you are here?"

John shook his head wondering how this man had known what they were
talking about.

"Think, Dr. Carter. I've been told you're pretty intelligent. Surely
you must know why you've been admitted here."

"I'm sorry, but I don't. Can I please use a telephone? My co-workers
will be worried. Unless you called them already."

"They've been notified. However, don't worry about your job. You
won't be going back to it for a long time. You've been granted an
extended leave of absence."

"Why? What's wrong with me?"

"Are you *sure* no one else will be worried over your whereabouts?"
The man's smile was not pleasant.

"Luka." John whispered.

"Go to the head of the class. *Now* do you know why you're here?"

John finally understood. He'd heard of these places. Only the very
rich could afford them. You were admitted and were not allowed to
leave unless the person who committed you gave permission. That
rarely happened. Looking around, he noticed the bars on the windows.
Unless a miracle occured, he would die in this place after a lifetime
of being "treated" for an ailment that didn't exist. No one at County
had been called. No one would know what had happened. He was as good
as dead already.


Author's Notes:

FAN FICTION SPOILERS: I will not deny it. I cannot. What follows in
the next four chapters was inspired by portions of the "Chicago"
series by WPAdmirer. Hey, as better writers than I have discovered,
it can't be all hearts and flowers... every now and then you get
asystole and roses have been known to have thorns. So, if you have
not yet read this masterwork, please do so.
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