Title: The Best Laid Plans, Chapter 10
Author: Cathy Roberts
Pairing: JC/DM
Rating: NC-17
Date: February 27, 2005
Archive: Please ask first
Disclaimer: "ER" and all its characters belong to Warner Bros. No
infringement of their copyright is intended. This story was written for
the enjoyment of "ER" fans everywhere, and may be downloaded for your
own pleasure. Thanks to everyone at the Mature ER FanFiction Critique
Corner for their comments and suggestions.
Summary: Dave Malucci meets John Carter in college, and nothing will
ever be the same. Be warned that this story contains scenes of sexual
assault, kinky sex and bad language in places.
***************************************************
All things considered, Dave thought, it was shaping up to be the best
Valentine's Day of his life. Despite having to work - and haggling with
Jing-Mei over a patient, he'd found the time to sneak a few kisses with
Carter. And now Dave was looking forward to their evening together.
Since their shifts were set to end at the same time, Dave had done what
he could before work to set the mood for the evening. It was corny, but
Dave hadn't been able to resist placing red and white candles around the
bedroom, and he had a jarful of rose petals on the nightstand, ready to
be thrown onto the sheets. Lube and a box of condoms were also waiting
on the nightstand, and the Valentine's card that he'd bought for Carter
was propped up against the lamp. Out in the living room, sexy music was
loaded in the CD changer, and the fridge was stocked with fun finger
foods, beer and a bottle of champagne.
Oh yeah, Dave thought, grinning, it was going to be one Hell of a night.
They'd both get to enjoy the party at work and then be able to have
their own private party at his place. Dave couldn't have planned the
timing any better if he'd tried. Since his stomach was feeling quite
empty at that moment, he was on his way to admit to see if the pizza had
arrived. Dave's path was detoured though, when he saw Carter going into
the lounge. Hopeful of getting another kiss, Dave quickly followed,
letting the door close quietly behind him as he stepped inside and
discovered that they were the only people in the lounge.
Carter was at his locker, his attention fully on the lock. Dave was
able to take advantage of that and he was directly behind Carter without
Carter realizing that someone was there.
"Be mine," Dave whispered as he placed a hand on Carter's shoulder, and
he grinned as Carter slightly jumped.
"Jesus, Dave!" Carter turned his head to glare and him and then he went
back to opening his locker. I think you just knocked ten years off of
my life."
"Nah, seven tops," Dave replied as he stepped to one side and leaned
back against the next locker. "Pizza get here yet?"
"I don't know," Carter said as he started to take off his lab coat.
"Between Abby, Lucy and a few flu patients, I haven't had time to check."
"Well, when it gets here, don't eat too much," Dave warned. "I've got
plenty of food at home."
Carter put his coat on its hook and reached for his overcoat. "I'm sure
that we can find a way to work off the pizza." He grinned at Dave as he
put on the coat. "So we're all set on the plans for later? I leave
first and wait for you at my Jeep?"
"That's the plan. Just make sure I know when you're leaving. I
wouldn't want you freezing that cute ass of yours off while I'm still
partying hard in here," Dave said with a grin. "Speaking of freezing,
where are you going?"
"Abby's patient died and she went up to the roof. I'm going to take her
some coffee to thaw her out and give her a little pep talk."
Dave nodded as followed Carter over to the coffee machine. "It's always
rough to lose a patient, but even more so on a holiday. Do you know how
Abby likes her coffee?"
"I haven't a clue, so I hope she likes it black." Carter smiled as he
filled to Styrofoam cups with the hot coffee.
"I'll get the lids while you get bundled up," Dave offered.
"Thanks." Carter began to button his coat. "Guess you really were
serious about me keeping my cute ass in one piece."
"Damn right," Dave replied as he put a lid on the first cup. "I'm also
partial to a few of your other body parts, and would like them kept warm
as well."
"I see." Carter looked toward the doors, then back at Dave. "My lips
are feeling pretty cold right now."
Dave snapped on the second lid. The fact that Carter wanted to risk
them kissing right then and there sent a thrill through him. He
grinned. "You're in luck, Hoss, cause I think Dr. Dave has just the
cure for cold lips."
Dave closed the space between their bodies and moved in for a kiss;
pleased as punch when Carter met him halfway. A noise from outside the
lounge brought the kiss to an end, but they were both smiling happily
despite the interruption.
"How's that?" Dave asked.
Carter nodded and reached for the cups. "That did the job. Of course,
they're going to get cold again when I go outside. Maybe I'll ask for
you when I get back."
"I'm counting on it. I better not catch you getting treatment from
someone else," Dave said. Much to his own surprise, he wasn't really
joking. He stayed there in the lounge after Carter had gone, wondering
just how it was that he'd become so possessive in such a short time.
He'd never been the jealous type, figuring that life was too short to
waste on something like jealousy. But the idea of Carter kissing
someone else, male or female, made Dave's blood run cold.
For Dave, the worst part of the evening was seeing Carter on the floor,
seeing the blood pooling around his body and feeling helpless to do
anything to help Carter.
No, the worst part was having to work on Lucy and not know what was
going on with Carter in the other trauma room.
Definitely, the hardest part was having to sit down with the cops to
answer their questions. Had he noticed anything off or strange with
Sobriki? When was the last time he'd seen Sobriki? When was the last
time he'd seen Carter or Lucy?
The ultimate worst part was sitting around and waiting while Carter and
Lucy were up in surgery. It was getting so badly to Dave that when
Jing-Mei asked if he wanted to walk over to Doc's with her, he'd jumped
at the opportunity to get out. His shift was over, but there was no way
Dave could go home while Carter was splayed open on an operating table.
The most horrible part was laughing about the joke Carter had played on
Lucy and then finding out that Lucy was dead, but that Carter was okay
and in recovery. And then feeling grateful that Chuny hadn't come over
to tell them that Carter was dead.
The little gathering at Doc's had broken up shortly after that. Dave
was tired and he squinted at the dawn, knowing he'd need to be back to
work all too soon. But he couldn't just put on his coat and go home, as
most of the others had done. Dave knew that he'd never get any sleep if
he didn't see for himself that Carter had pulled through. He'd waved
goodbye to Luka and the others, then walked back into the ER with Abby,
the two of them quiet. Abby had gone off on her own, probably to mope
and cry, and Dave had headed for the elevators and post-op. Now that he
was alone, Dave found it difficult to keep the tears at bay. He angrily
wiped them away, reminding himself that he needed to find a way to get
in to see Carter without getting caught. The nurses up there could be
real hard-asses when it came to the rules, and no visitors meant just
that, no visitors. It wouldn't matter to them that he was Carter's
lover as well as his co-worker. It wouldn't matter to them if he was
Carter's family - at this point, Carter wouldn't be allowed visitors
period.
"Fuck that," Dave told the empty elevator as it came to a halt. It
didn't matter if Carter knew he was there or not - all that mattered was
that Dave saw him, saw that he was breathing - saw with his own eyes
that Carter was still alive.
The doors opened and Dave stepped out onto the surgical floor, heading
toward a corridor that would lead to a back hallway that would then take
him to post-op. As long as he looked as if he belonged there, Dave knew
that he wouldn't be stopped. He had his badge and was still in scrubs,
and despite the heavy coat, Dave knew he looked "official". He'd act as
though he were some poor surgical resident getting in early for his
shift. It had worked for him on other floors, and Dave was pretty sure
it would work for him right then.
It took about twenty minutes of careful maneuvering throughout the
hallways, but Dave did make it to Carter's bedside. There weren't a
whole lot of other patients in recovery, and Dave realized that he'd be
discovered if a nurse he knew came in, or one of the surgeons. But he
planned to be out before that could happen. Dave approached Carter,
thinking that he looked far too pale. Just how much blood had he lost
before they'd gotten it under control in surgery? Too much, Dave
thought as he reached out and brushed Carter's hair aside on his forehead.
"You're gonna be okay, Hoss," Dave softly said, and he gave Carter's
hand a gentle squeeze, then blinked in surprise as he felt a squeeze
back. Carter was waking up. Dave didn't know if this would be the
first time or the second time, and he wasn't sure if he needed to go to
get someone. Doing so would blow his "cover", but Dave knew it would be
necessary. The decision was taken from him as he heard voices
approaching the area - Benton and someone else.
"Later." Dave gave the hand another squeeze and then he hurried out of
a side door. He paused on the other side long enough to confirm that
Benton had entered recovery - he had, and Benton and the nurse began to
talk to Carter. Dave couldn't stop himself from staying there until
he'd heard Carter's voice - it was raspy and weak, but good to hear.
Secure with the knowledge that Carter was alive, Dave made his way off
of the surgical floor. It was time to go home and get some sleep.
Dave awoke with a start, gasping for breath. It took a moment for it to
register in his brain that he was in his bed and not still in the world
of his dream. Shuddering, Dave sat up, looking around the room, as if
there might be some sign of the madman who had roamed County last night.
Instead of Paul Sobriki, Dave only saw the candles that he'd put in
place yesterday.
Dave fell back against his pillow, wondering if it really was just the
next day. So much had happened...Carter injured, Lucy dead. Could it
all have been less than 24 hours ago? Maybe he'd slept for longer? But
no, Weaver would have been on the phone, demanding to know if he was
coming in. Since there'd been no phone call, it only stood to reason
that it was really the next day. Dave still felt a bit sluggish, but he
knew that there wouldn't be any more sleep for him. He was too
reluctant to dream again, too scared to relive what had happened the
night before.
Dave stretched and then got out of bed, yawning broadly as he made his
way to his bathroom to shower. He'd shower, get something to eat and
then head in for work. If he got there early, then he'd go to see
Carter. If he got there on time, then he'd see Carter after his shift.
As Dave turned on the hot water, he once more felt guilty over the
fact that Carter was still there for him to visit. It was still
difficult to accept the fact that Lucy was dead. Was she even from
Chicago? Dave felt bad because he had no clue as to where Lucy was
from, or if she had brothers and sisters, or if she were an only child.
There'd be a funeral, or maybe a memorial service if it turned out that
Lucy was from somewhere else. Her family might show up at County. How
could he look at them knowing that he - as Weaver had declared that
night - had been partying while Lucy was dying? That had been the gist
of his nightmare as well. He and the others were partying. Laughing
and dancing and having a good time while Sobriki stabbed Lucy and Carter
over and over again. Dave's imagination hadn't been content to stay
with what he'd actually seen. No, it had to create the scene for him,
separating Carter and Lucy from the party by a glass wall. No sound
penetrated the wall, but as they all danced, the wall became splattered
with blood. Carter tried to get to them, but the wall wouldn't move.
Dave had been dancing with Randi as he noticed the wall and what was
behind it. And even then, he laughed as he had watched Carter's hand
leave a bloody smear on the glass. Others had noticed, and they'd point
and say something, but not a single one of them moved to get past that
wall. Then Weaver had arrived and she walked right through the glass,
shattering it into millions of pieces. The sound carried over the song
playing on the radio, and the noise seemed to shake them all out of the
party mentality. They'd all rushed to Carter and Lucy, but Kerry kept
telling them that it was too late; Carter and Lucy had bled to death
while they'd partied.
Dave shook off the memory of the nightmare and stepped into the shower.
He hadn't been the only one who didn't hear anything, he told himself.
But that knowledge didn't make him feel any less responsible for what
had happened. If they'd heard something, then maybe Lucy could have
been saved? Maybe they could have stopped Sobriki before he'd stabbed
Carter? There were still so many questions left unanswered - why was
Lucy with Sobriki in the first place? A call had been placed to psych -
where the Hell were they? If they'd been doing their job, then Lucy
would still be alive, and Carter would be in the shower with him, Dave
thought. Dave scrubbed his skin roughly, never noticing the tears that
were mingling with the shower spray.
It was a subtle awareness, one reached slowly and with hesitation. The
slow pace was mostly due to the fading effect of painkillers. The
hesitation was due to the returning memories of what had caused the
pain. His eyes closed, John listened to the noises around him - some,
like the voices from the corridor, were familiar. John could hear
snippets of the medical jargon being easily spoken by doctors and
nurses. But, other noises weren't quite as familiar, at least not for
the length of time that he was hearing them - the beeping of a monitor
being one such noise.
John opened his eyes, noting dully that there was daylight outside of
his window. Had he slept all day and night or had he merely slept a few
hours since Benton had been there? John wasn't sure if it really
mattered, not when every time he awoke he had to once more face the fact
that Lucy was dead. Benton had told him that he was lucky, but John
didn't feel lucky. He didn't even feel relieved to be alive. He just
felt...John wasn't sure what he felt. Maybe it was too soon after
surgery to be feeling anything emotionally.
The sound of fabric against fabric to John's right caught his attention
and he turned his head to see that Dave was seated by the bed. Seeing
the concern in Dave's face, John finally felt an emotion - guilt.
They'd had plans for Valentine's, and John had ruined those plans.
"Hey, Hoss," Dave said, and he smiled at John as he leaned forward,
resting his elbows on his knees. "How you doin'?"
"I'm okay," John said, but his voice was hoarse and his throat dry. He
motioned toward the water cup on the bedstand and Dave picked it up and
got to his feet, putting the straw to John's lips. John sipped slowly,
relishing the relief that the cool water brought to his mouth and
throat. When he'd had enough, he moved his head away and Dave put the
cup back.
"Thanks. I'm sorry that I ruined your plans," John said. He pulled the
covers up a bit higher on his chest, wishing he could just burrow under
them and hide.
"There's no need to apologize. We'll just reschedule things for when
they let you out of here," Dave gave John a big smile. "That should be
in a week or so, right?"
John nodded, although he wasn't exactly sure when he'd be released. He
vaguely remembered a nurse saying something about him having a high
temperature, which wouldn't be too surprising considering his injuries.
If he had an infection, then he might be in the hospital for longer
than a week, and that was something he really didn't want to think about.
"You know about Lucy?" John asked, not that he really wanted to think
about her, either. But he did need to know how she died. Benton didn't
tell him the details earlier, and John had been too stunned by the news
to ask.
"Yeah. I guess Benton told you?" Dave sat back down, looking
uncomfortable.
"He said she'd died, but he didn't say how or why. I think I remember
seeing her in the trauma room, and she was alive then." John wasn't
sure now if that was a true memory or something his subconscious had
invented.
Dave nodded. "She made it through surgery fine, but then she threw a
PE. They...Romano and Corday, that is, were about to put in a
Greenfield filter, but she threw a clot just after they got her in an
angiography suite, and they couldn't get her back. She'd been talking
to them and everything." Dave's voice was soft as he spoke, and he kept
his eyes firmly on John.
For his part, John tried to look at Dave, but by the time Dave had
finished speaking, John was staring at the clock on the wall. He found
himself wishing that Lucy would have died back in curtain three. She
would have been spared so much more pain, he reasoned. He couldn't
imagine what it must have been like to wake up and know you had a blood
clot, and to know that you were dying because of it.
"Have the cops come by to talk to you?" Dave asked, and John felt a bit
of relief at the change in subject.
"Not that I know of," John replied. "I've been doing a lot of sleeping.
Benton wants me up and walking this evening, which means this catheter
will be gone by then." John managed a small smile. "That'll be one
less thing to worry about. Benton said that I'd keep the colostomy for
about a month; give the colon time to heal properly. So it looks like
I'll only be out of the hospital for a short while before I'll be back
for more surgery."
John shrugged. "Better than the alternative, I suppose, so I can't
complain."
Dave got to his feet and came to stand right by the bed. He reached out
and took John's hand within both of his, and John couldn't turn away
from Dave's intense gaze. "I'm glad that you're alive. When we were
waiting to hear the news about you and Lucy, I kept thinking that I
didn't know what I'd do if you...if you didn't make it. You got lucky,
Hoss, really lucky."
"I know." John carefully pulled his hand free. "Do you see the call
button? I think the pain meds are wearing off."
"Uh..." Dave looked around, and then grinned as he pressed a button that
was on the bed rail itself. "Right there." A nurse answered, and Dave
told her that John was in pain. She replied that she'd be right there.
"I should head on down to work now," Dave said. He glanced at the door,
and the next thing John knew, Dave was kissing him fully on the lips.
"I'll come back by on my break, okay?"
John nodded, although he wasn't sure if he wanted Dave - or anyone else,
for that matter, to come by the room. He forced himself to smile,
playing the part of the cooperative patient. "I'll be right here."
"Smartass," Dave replied as he headed toward the door. "Good thing for
you that I like that." And with that parting comment, Dave left.
John slumped into his pillow and closed his eyes, looking for some
respite from the thoughts that were jumbled in his head. He was glad to
be alive, but felt guilty over being that way. John supposed that that
was a normal reaction to what he'd been through, but he wasn't 100% sure
of that, and he didn't want to risk asking, just in case it wasn't
normal. The nurse arrived with his pain medication and he swallowed the
pills down, then sat through a vitals check. He did have an elevated
temperature, and the nurse mentioned that it looked as if he did have an
infection. He was assured that he was receiving antibiotics in the IV
and that he'd be feeling better soon.
John smiled at the nurse, assuring her that she was right. Once the
painkillers took effect, he'd be feeling a whole lot better, because
he'd be numb and nearly asleep. And really, John thought, he couldn't
ask for more than that, could he?
To be continued...
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