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FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING |
Reflections (Chapter 7) |
It was cold up on the roof. The wind seemed much more noticeable up here than down below. Carter walked around the entire rooftop, looking behind every possible nook that she could be hiding behind. There was no sign of her.
He let out a sigh of frustration. He had really thought she might be up here. It was a popular spot to come and sit; to escape from the rigors of work for a while. The two of them had chosen the roof for some of their chats. They hadn't done that for a long time, though.
Where could she be? He hadn't realized how much he had been pinning his hopes on finding her here. His gut began churning with a sick feeling of dread, and his imagination kicked into overdrive. He didn't want to think about the dangers she could be in. Instead, he tried to focus on what to do next. Where else might she have went? But maybe it wouldn't even help to try to figure that out. She certainly hadn't been thinking rationally when she'd ran headlong out of the ER into the winter night. Who knew where she might have ended up...
Well, no sense in hanging around here. Carter headed back towards the stairs, unsure of what he should do.
***************
The silence in the room was deafening. Mr. Prescott hadn't spoken a word since Kerry had brought him down here. He simply stared down at the body of his son, his face void of expression.
"Would you like some time alone with him?" she asked, finally breaking the quiet stillness of the air.
He opened his mouth to speak, but only a strangled sound emerged. Abruptly, he closed his mouth and cleared his throat, pushing the bridge of his glasses up with one finger. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not be alone," he managed to say, his voice trembling.
"Take as much time as you need," Kerry said kindly, watching as the man rubbed at his temple. While his face had seemed to be strangely blank for the longest time, he now looked weary and resigned.
He reached out to touch Brad's dark hair, brushing it back from his forehead. "I just can't believe it. Can't believe he's gone. Just like that. I never..." The sudden lump in his throat blocked his speech for a moment, and his hand dropped to his side. He took a shuddering breath and continued. "Never got a chance to say goodbye. Never told him..." He turned his agonized gaze towards Kerry. "Didn't tell him I loved him."
"I'm sure he knew," she said quietly, feeling obligated to say the words the man needed to hear. But truthfully, she wasn't sure of that at all. She had no idea if Brad had known that. She could only hope it was true.
"I hope so." He seemed to echo her thoughts. "I'm not an easy man to get along with, Dr. Weaver. I wonder now, looking back, if I was sometimes too hard on Brad. Lyndsay always told me I was, but I never believed it. And now...now I think maybe she was right." He uttered a brief, harsh laugh. "Not that any of this matters now. He's dead. Nothing will change that."
"Lyndsay was your wife?" Kerry guessed, recalling that Lucy had told her Brad's mother had died some time ago.
He nodded. "She died of cancer two years ago. Brad took it very hard. He was closer to his mother than to me." He smiled wistfully. "Looked a lot like her too. The same eyes and mouth. Lyndsay always understood him better than I ever could. Now I've lost both of them." His eyes filled with tears and he visibly struggled against the sobs that threatened to overwhelm him.
Kerry felt her own eyes grow wet and she placed a comforting hand on his back. After a minute or so, he was able to choke back his tears and compose himself once more. Removing his glasses, he swiped at his eyes and cleared his throat again, though more from embarrassment this time. "I apologize, Dr. Weaver. It's not often I lose my composure like that."
"I would be more worried if you didn't, Mr. Prescott. It's perfectly understandable." Kerry glanced at the clock. They'd been down here for twenty minutes now. She wondered if Lucy had been found yet. "Feel free to remain here as long as you like. Just let the attendant know when you're ready to leave. I'd like to get back to the ER and see how the search for Lucy is progressing."
Mr. Prescott looked remorseful at the sound of her name. "I hope she's been found. I know she ran away because of what I said to her."
Despite her sympathetic feelings towards him, Kerry fixed him with a stern gaze. "I know you were speaking out of grief, but your words were incredibly cruel to that young woman. You accused her of killing your son. And I'm afraid Lucy took it quite to heart."
"I shouldn't have said those things. I was looking for someone to blame, and she was an easy target. If there's anyone to blame, it's me. I think Brad was having some problems lately, but I wasn't there for him. I didn't look out for him like I promised Lyndsay I would."
Kerry regarded the older man sadly. "No, Mr. Prescott, you're not to blame either. Whatever problems you may have had with your son, you didn't force him to drink and then drive recklessly. Brad did that all on his own."
***************
"Hey, are you ok?"
The woman continued to stare outside, not hearing her.
The waitress frowned, wondering what could be causing the lovely girl to look so utterly desolate. "I said, are you ok?" she repeated, a little more loudly.
Lucy finally turned her head away from the window, as the voice intruded into her thoughts. She looked up at the waitress blankly. "What?"
"Just wondering if you're all right, hon. You've been sitting here for almost an hour, just looking out the window. Are you sure I can't get you anything?"
"Please, just leave me alone." She returned to gazing through the glass.
Melanie gave a shake of her head and returned to the counter. The diner was empty right now, and she'd recognized the young woman as a regular customer. That's the only reason why she allowed the girl to stay, even though she didn't order anything. Well, that and the fact that the poor thing looked so lost. She didn't have the heart to kick her out into the cold.
Lucy wondered vaguely if she should return to the ER. She wouldn't be able to go home without getting her bag, which contained her wallet. She'd found that out when she had ran from the ER to the El station. She hadn't even realized where she was headed until she'd found herself at the ticket window. The man in the booth had given her strange looks as she'd stood there, panting and wide-eyed. Her only thought then had been to go home, but only then did she realize she'd left her knapsack in the lounge.
She'd then started back towards County, her steps slow and uneven. Twice, she'd had to stop and brace herself against a building, waiting for the rush of dizziness to pass. Then she'd continued on, her hands unconsciously wrapping her lab coat more tightly around herself. She hadn't minded the cold. She'd even welcomed it. It had helped to keep her numb. The last thing she'd wanted was more feeling. She couldn't bear the weight of her guilt, so she'd pushed it back to the corner of her mind where it couldn't reach her.
As she'd approached the main entrance of the hospital, she'd briefly considered going back to the ER, but had decided against it. Mr. Prescott was mostly likely still there, and she wasn't ready to face him again. So she'd gone into Doc Magoo's and sat quietly in a booth. She'd kept her mind occupied with inconsequential things; watching the occasional car drive by, seeing the odd person walking through the hospital doors and wondering what he or she was doing there at such a late hour. She'd been fairly successful in avoiding thoughts of Brad and her role in his death. But then the waitress had spoken to her and brought her crashing back to reality.
As she sat here, she considered returning to the lounge to retrieve her bag. But that would mean facing everyone in the ER again, even if Mr. Prescott had already left. She recalled the curious stares she had received when walking down the hall to meet with the police. Perhaps she'd only been imagining the accusing look in their eyes then, but she certainly wouldn't be imagining it now if she returned. The whole staff would be aware of what had happened by now. She couldn't face them. She just couldn't.
As she continued to gaze through the window, her focus changed and she found herself staring at her own reflection in the glass. Although the image was ghostly and pale, the guilt in her eyes clearly shone through. The emotions that had been safely tucked into the back of her mind started to seep out. She desperately tried to hold them back, but the feelings flooded forth once more. She couldn't bear to look at herself.
Melanie thought she heard a noise, and she looked up from the salt shakers she'd been refilling. The young woman was now hunched over in the booth, her face buried in her hands. That strange keening sound came from her again, and Melanie hesitated, not liking to see anyone suffer.
"Is there someone I can call for you, hon?" Melanie asked gently, wishing there was something she could do.
Lucy was aware that the waitress was speaking to her again, but she wasn't able to make out the words. She didn't even realize she was crying. She could feel an aching pressure in her chest and her temples started to throb. But worst of all, the internal voice that had been silent for a while began to whisper again, reminding her of everything that had gone wrong. The only thing that had helped her before was the cold. All she wanted was to be numb again.
Melanie had been slowly approaching her, and she now jumped back with surprise as the girl shot out of her seat. She watched helplessly as the young woman darted across the street, not even watching for traffic. Thankfully, there weren't many cars around at this hour.
Melanie's far-sighted vision was rather poor, but she was fairly certain the girl ran into the hospital. She hoped that someone there would be able to help her.
***************
Carter glanced at his watch. 4:30 am. He'd been pounding the pavement for a little over three hours in total now. He'd periodically checked back in the ER for any update, and then had returned to the streets. As each hour had passed, his despair had doubled. He was now out of his mind with worry. Each time he looked into a new alley he held his breath, half expecting to find her lying there, hurt or something worse. And every time he found the alley empty, he breathed a small sigh of relief, trudging down to the next street.
He was running out of places to look. He decided to make his way back to County and get another update. The two police officers had taken off a couple of hours ago. They had gotten called away by dispatch to another case. Before leaving, they'd mentioned that pending no new information, Brad's death would be officially ruled as accidental.
Carter arrived in front of the hospital and looked tiredly towards the beckoning lights of Doc Magoo's. He could really use a coffee. Stepping into the warm diner, he headed straight for the counter.
Melanie smiled at him, recognizing him as one of the regulars. She noticed that he looked a little more ragged than usual. "You look like you need a coffee," she remarked with a grin.
He managed a small smile. "Yeah, to go, please." As she started to move away he said, "Hey, did a woman about five foot two, short blonde hair, very pretty, wearing a white lab coat happen to come in here?"
Melanie stopped in her tracks and lost her smile. "Yes she did, as a matter of fact."
Carter perked up for the first time that night. "Yeah? How long ago?" he asked eagerly.
"Hmmm...she was here for about an hour and left around 1:30."
His renewed hope faded slightly. That long ago. She could be anywhere by now. Damn, why hadn't he thought to check here sooner? "Did she say anything? Or did you see where she went?"
"She didn't say much of anything. Just asked that I leave her alone. Poor dear just sat in that booth, staring out the window. Then she started crying all of a sudden and ran out into the street. I'm pretty sure she went into the hospital."
It wasn't much, but it was the best lead he'd had all night. Carter thanked the woman and started to leave.
"What about your coffee?" Melanie asked.
He shook his head. "I don't need it now." He was wide awake and anxious to start his search again.
"Well, good luck. I hope you find her. I think she needs a friend."
Carter thanked her again and hurried across the street to the main lobby of County. He stopped at the Information desk to ask if someone fitting Lucy's description had come in this way, but no one had noticed her. He used their phone to call down to the ER and spoke to Jerry. There was no word on Lucy yet. He let Jerry know what the waitress in Doc's had told him, and that it was possible Lucy had returned to the hospital. Jerry said he'd let security know.
After hanging up, Carter considered his next move. Where would Lucy have gone if she had indeed come back here? The morgue? The roof? He thought those two places might be his best bet, so he headed for the elevator. If he was honest with himself, he was still looking for a needle in a haystack. Lucy had left Doc's three hours ago. There was no way of knowing where she'd be now. But he had to try. He couldn't give up; not when she was out there alone. He had to find her. He just had to.
***************
Carter shivered as the blast of wind struck him full force, blowing strands of hair into his eyes. Damn, but it was freezing! Although he would like nothing better than to find Lucy, he almost hoped he wouldn't find her here. It was too cold for anyone to spend minutes up here, never mind hours. He'd checked the morgue, gone back to the ER, and stopped at the nurse's station on every floor before venturing up on the roof again. Considering the conditions up here, he thought it was highly unlikely she'd be here. But he started to walk around anyway, knowing he couldn't leave any stone unturned.
He didn't have to go very far. There she was, sitting huddled in the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees.
"Lucy! Oh my God!" He raced over and knelt in front of her, reaching out to touch her cheek. He was expecting it to be icy, but she felt hot to the touch. She was running a fever. "Luce? Say something," he implored.
She ignored him, staring beyond his shoulder into space. She just sat there, rocking slightly back and forth, her beautiful blue eyes vacant.
Carter shivered again, but not from the cold this time. He was scared. Scared that she had truly gone over the edge. "Lucy! Talk to me! How long have you been here?" As he spoke, he started to remove his coat. He wrapped it around her shoulders and shook her gently. "Snap out of it, Luce. Please, sweetheart, you're scaring me."
Lucy could feel a warmth starting to seep into her body. What was going on? She didn't want warmth. She liked the cold. She craved the numbness. She felt a warm hand against her cheek, and then her forehead. Her eyes slowly came to focus on a familiar face. "Carter?" she mumbled, her voice hoarse from not having spoken in a long while.
"Oh, thank God!" Such an immense feeling of relief shot through him, he was glad he was already kneeling. He smiled at her reassuringly, stroking her hair back from her forehead. "It's ok. I'm here now. You're gonna be fine."
What was he talking about? What was he doing here? Lucy suddenly realized that she was wearing his coat. That's why she was starting to feel warm again. With an abrupt and unexpected motion, she threw his coat off, inadvertently knocking him off balance. He fell over on his butt as she jumped up quickly.
She groaned as the world spun around her, feeling a wave of nausea. Swaying to the side, she would have tipped over if Carter hadn't gotten to his feet and caught her in his arms. She briefly allowed him to gather her close, and heard him say, "You're sick. You've got a fever. Let me take you back to the ER."
"No!" She pulled away from the warmth of his body, staggering backwards. "Just leave me alone," she pleaded.
"The hell I will! Do you know what I've gone through tonight trying to find you? I'm not letting you out of my sight."
He picked up his coat and tried to place it around her shoulders again, but she fought against him, slapping his arms away. "No, don't you understand? I don't want to be warm. Not ever! I don't want to feel anything. I don't want to think. I don't want to..." She started gasping for breath, feeling that crushing weight of guilt on her chest again. "Don't want to remember." Her voice caught on a sob. "It's my fault," she whispered, her eyes wide and haunted.
Carter couldn't bear to see her in such agony. He wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be all right. But he was afraid of how she would react. She obviously didn't want to be touched. Quietly, he said, "It's not your fault. You can't blame yourself for what happened to Brad."
"My fault," she repeated, as if she hadn't heard him. "I killed them."
Them? Maybe he hadn't heard correctly. "Who's 'them', Lucy? Who are you talking about?"
"They're all dead because of me," she moaned, starting to weep openly.
The sound tore at his heart. He couldn't just stand here, watching her fall apart. He approached her hesitantly and placed a light hand on her shoulder. He expected her to flinch away from him again but instead, she clutched at his sweater and buried her face against his chest. The force of her sobs racked her body, and he rubbed her back, wishing he could somehow alleviate her pain.
"It's not your fault," he said emphatically. "Do you hear me?" She continued to weep, but then the sound ceased rather abruptly. Puzzled, he pulled back slightly to look down at her. "Luce?" Her weight against him shifted, and he had to quickly bring his arms beneath her to keep her from falling straight to the ground. Her head lolled back to reveal her tear-stained cheeks and closed eyes. She had passed out; whether from the stress or being ill, he didn't know.
Carter scooped her up easily in his arms, and placed his coat on top of her as best he could. Moving as fast as he dared towards the stairs, he noticed that his heart was racing. Even though he had found Lucy, he was still afraid.
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