TITLE: Six White Flags Over Chicago, part 2 of 2
AUTHOR: Ellen Hursh
RATING: R
KEYWORDS: KW/LKo romance; angst; violence/character death; and all that
jazz.
LAST EPISODE SEEN:  "I'll Be Home For Christmas"
TIMELINE: "Surrender"
ARCHIVE: If you must.
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.
SONG: "At Last", performed by Etta James, written by Mack Gordon and
Harry Warren.
CROATIAN: "Lasica" = "weasel"
SUMMARY:  Kerry comes to a decision; Carter reacts to the consequences
for his December slip; Dave's relationship reaches a new level; a past
patient's return leads to tragedy in the ER
SPOILERS:  A couple for "Surrender".
PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS: Home and Dry; And Miles to Go Before I Sleep;
Through the Hourglass; Jupiter Aligns with Mars; Shopworn; Come as You
Aren't; Out and About; Up in the Air; Serpent's Tooth; Thanks a Lot!;
Shall We Dance?; Yes, Sir, That's My Baby!; Yule-Tied; Should Auld
Acquaintance; Running with Scissors
AUTHOR'S NOTES:  As always, thanks to Miesque and Hollie for input and
feedback.
PREVIOUSLY, ON MY-ER:  Luka and Kerry got engaged and later discovered
that she was pregnant; Mark underwent experimental surgery to remove a
brain tumor and treat any remaining cancer; Carter admitted to Kerry
that he'd slipped and taken (but later vomited up) a couple of Vicodin
tablets.




Benton realized that he was going to have to intubate, and called to
Carter to push the Versed. "I can't!" Carter protested, and left the
room as Benton yelled futilely after him to come back and give the drug
as ordered. He hurried next door, and saw Dave working on his patient
with Kerry. "Dave, Benton needs you in the other room." Dave stared
incredulously - what the hell???

"No way, man, I got this covered." Was he *kidding*? This was the kind
of exciting case that had drawn Dave into emergency medicine in the
first place! Sure, he was sorry that the woman was in such bad
condition, but *c'mon*!

"Go, Dave," Kerry said quietly. Dave frowned and grumbled, but
obediently stripped off his gloves and went. Carter hesitantly took
Dave's place, aware of Kerry's watchful stare.

* * *

Dave returned a few minutes later, looking like he was full of
questions... but he knew Kerry - and that Look she was giving him - well
enough that he knew better than to ask any of them in front of her.
Still, that didn't stop him from shooting Carter a bemused glance before
the other man left.

Carter returned to the other room, where Benton was waiting for him,
fuming. "What the hell happened? When I tell you to push the drugs,
that's what I need you to do!"

"It's part of my agreement with Kerry," Carter replied, aware that he
wasn't being completely honest about what all was involved in his
"agreement" with Kerry.

"Isn't it time for that to end? I'll go talk to her." Carter's eyes
widened, and he made a soft "eep!" noise.

"No! I mean, don't do that. I don't want to look like I'm being a
cry-baby about it."

"Look man... being a 'cry-baby' is one thing. Standing up for what's
*right* is another."

"Just *please*... don't talk to her!" Carter wasn't reassured that
Benton didn't promise anything.

* * *

It took Peter a while to find the person he was looking for, but he
finally spotted Kerry. "Hey, Kerry. Can I talk to you a minute?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"It's about Carter and these restrictions you still have on him...." She
held up a hand, signaling for him to stop.

"Whoa, sorry. End of conversation. I am *not* going to talk about
*that*."

"You're being unfair to him, Kerry. He doesn't deserve this!" She gave
him the Stare of Death, but he ignored it.

"Peter, I am *not* having this conversation with you! Not in the
hallway, and not at all!"

"Carter's been clean since he came back, Kerry, when are you going to
let up on him, huh? I would think that you, of all people--"

"For the last time, Peter!" There must have been, she thought, some kind
of betraying note to her voice; he peered at her curiously, and for a
moment saw past her desperate attempts to divert him.

"He *hasn't* been clean, has he," Peter said softly. "My God." With
that, he turned and walked rapidly away.

"Peter! Come back here!" She sagged down for a moment on her crutch, and
sighed. Great. Of all the times for that man to be perceptive! She just
hoped that he didn't go and do something irrational; she'd noticed, even
back when they'd worked together briefly at Mt Sinai, that Peter Benton
had certain high standards for himself. For better or worse, he seemed
to transfer those high expectations to his students, as though they were
an extension - a reflection - of himself. The pressure was intense...
Dennis Gant hadn't survived it... but it had made an excellent doctor
out of John Truman Carter. Or at least the *makings* of an excellent
doctor, she acknowledged... John still had a long way to go. But then,
didn't everybody?

* * *

She found John intently studying the offerings of the soda machine.
"Hey, Kerry. You want something from here?"

"No, thank you. John, why don't you go ahead and head home? It's settled
down enough, and it's close enough to the end of your shift, that you
might as well." He stared down at her - it was one of those times that
she was overly aware of the nine inches he had on her. It was strange,
she thought, that she had never had the same sense of the height
difference between herself and Luka, even though he was a full foot
taller than her.

"Is this about what I told you earlier? About the Vicodin?" She shook
her head.

"Absolutely not!" She wasn't about to admit that Peter Benton had
figured things out, and was steaming mad - this way, John would go home
early, and Peter would have some time to cool down. "You've been putting
in extra time lately. G'wan... before I change my mind." She smiled and
gave him a little push in the direction of the lounge, and John went...
after a last suspicious look at her.

He found Benton working on something in the lounge when he entered the
room. "Hey, what've you got?" Benton looked up from his stack of folders
long enough to deliver a glare that startled Carter for a moment.

"Med school applications."

"Really. That must be fun?"

"I'm helping decide who gets interviews."

"Oh. Dr Romano stuck you with the job?" Benton looked up again
impatiently.

"Carter, just go away, will you?"

"Oh. You talked to Kerry, didn't you? I *asked* you--" He cut off
abruptly, as Benton made an impatient sound that could have been a
growl. "C'mon, yeah, I made one little slip, that's all. It wasn't even
really that important." There wasn't any more reply from Benton, though,
and Carter nervously hurried through getting his stuff from his locker.
"Uh, s-see you l-later," he stammered, and escaped as quickly as he
could.

* * *

Carter entered the room quietly. "Hey, Chase." He set the bag down on
the table, and stared at his cousin's back, which didn't move. "I got
real food this time. Cheeseburgers... and milkshakes. Chocolate's okay,
right?" There was no answer, aside from a little cough, and Carter
hesitantly sneaked a french fry out of one of the bags and munched on it
as he thought. "I've been busy, you know."

"For nearly a year?" He could hear the quiet anger in Chase's response,
and winced - he knew he deserved that. "Just go away, will you?" He
ignored the demand, though - he had to say this.

"I was stabbed, you know that. My student died, I *nearly* died. It's
been hard for me, with all the pain I've been in! I needed pain
medication in order to function... first I was taking pain pills, then I
started injecting morphine, Demerol, anything else I could get. I got
caught, I got sent to rehab, and I pretended to go along with it all -
none of that stuff applied to *me*, because *I* was special... *I* was
just taking pain meds... *I* nearly died." Chase noted the hint of
self-mockery in his cousin's words, but said nothing.

"I did the program. I found a meeting and a group and a sponsor, but I
didn't believe in any of it. I didn't believe that I had *any*
responsibility for any of what had happened to me... it was all somebody
else's fault. Then..." he paused for a moment, looking down, "then I
nearly relapsed last month. I made excuses for a while, but what it
boils down to is that I didn't just steal some pain meds, I stole a
*patient's* pain meds. I waited so long to admit to what I'd done that
my sponsor bailed on me; I've probably ruined that relationship beyond
salvage."

He suddenly smiled, as he *really* heard his words for the first time,
and shook his head. "The truth is, Chase, I... haven't been by to see
you, because... then I'd have to admit to myself that I'm just like you.
That we're *exactly* the same. I think about getting high all the time.
It's the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing
before I fall asleep. There's not a day goes by that I don't think about
it. I've considered myself above you, the last few years, but the fact
is... I'm an addict too."

There was a moment of silence in the room then, "You remember to bring
french fries?" Carter laughed, and tossed one of the bags to Chase, who
caught it easily. "And you got ketchup, too... my hero!" The crooked
little grin was *so* like the Chase that Carter had known once, that he
couldn't help smiling too.

* * *

Luka had called Adele already, to deal with his little patient who, it
seemed, had been orphaned by the crash. He'd finally managed to pry out
of the girl the fact that her name was Annie, and then he'd delivered
more of the bad news that he was so good at giving by now. Adele was in
the exam room with Annie now; he glanced in that direction every once in
a while, but it wasn't out of any kind of suspicion of Adele... just
concern for what would happen to Annie.

"We'll try to find any family that she has in the area," Adele had
informed him, "and in the meantime we have excellent facilities. Don't
worry about her, Dr Kovac." Easy enough for her to say, Luka thought
with a huge sigh that momentarily drew Randi's attention away from her
magazine. Then the doors hissed open, and his thoughts were distracted
completely from Annie.

It had been well over a year since he'd seen her - and her
sucker-punching swine of an abusive husband - but he hadn't forgotten
her. "Loren? Are you all right?" She smiled sadly, wincing slightly as
the movement stretched her split lip and started a slow ooze down her
chin.

"I'm doing better than Pauly, that's for sure." She brought her right
hand out of the pocket of her coat, just enough for him to be able to
see the pistol.

"Loren, what did you do?"

"He's out in the car, Dr Kovatch." She put a hand out to stop him, when
he moved in the direction of the door. "There isn't anything you can do
for him. I made sure of that." He stared at her, horrified by what she
was saying.

"Stay here! Which car is yours?"

"Green Toyota. License plate 451YGR. You can't help him," she repeated,
but placed the keys in his outstretched palm.

"I have to check," he told her gently, then rounded up Yosh and Chuny
and a gurney to help him outside. She watched them go and leaned back
against the nearest wall; she gradually became aware of the man who was,
in turn, watching her. He was an older gentleman, fairly well-dressed,
with silver hair and sad eyes. He was, she thought, surprisingly
normal-looking, considering the looks of the other people who were
waiting. He looked around quickly, then casually ambled over to her.

"Excuse me," he said softly, and Loren was struck by what a beautiful
voice he had... like a radio announcer or a stage actor. "Do you have
the correct time?" She automatically pushed up the sleeve of her jacket,
to look at her watch, but was completely unprepared for what happened
next. The man suddenly lunged at her, plunging his hand into the right
pocket of her coat and coming back out with the pistol as he pushed her
away from him. She cried out in panic, and the redheaded doctor - who
was talking to a black nurse on the other side of the room - turned at
the sound.

"Gabe! NO!" The man turned at the sound of the woman's shout, and smiled
sadly. He was still holding off Loren's attempt to reclaim her pistol,
but being very gentle about fending her off. The woman - who, Loren now
noticed, walked with a crutch - limped over to them as quickly as she
could, stopping a safe distance away from him.

"I'm sorry, Kerry. I didn't want to do this here... now... like this...
but the moments of clarity are fewer, and shorter, and I- I- I just
can't *do* this anymore. Most of the time, I don't even know you when
you visit. I came here, probably hoping to steal some drugs to overdose.
I just want it to be *over*. You understand, Kerry?" He pushed Loren
away from him again as she grabbed at his arm with a desperate little
cry.

"No, I *don't* understand. Please... *please* don't do this!" She could
feel her eyes filling up with tears, and hated the way her voice was
cracking. Gabe gave her one of those solemn looks of his, and she was
reminded of how he'd once been... and how rarely he was like that
anymore.

"Kerry, please, just go. I don't want you to see this."

Her thought was, and I won't have to see the aftermath? but aloud she
simply said, "No. If you're going to do this, you're going to have to do
it in front of me." She felt conflicted - on the one hand, suicide would
put an end to his rapid decline (and hadn't she recently told Luka that
she wished Gabe would just *die*?)... but on the other hand, this was a
man who had been like a second father to her, despite the fact that that
part of him was gone more and more often. She also didn't understand how
a gun had made it into *her* emergency department... how was *that*
going to look? And... she *hated* herself for even thinking that last,
selfish part.

She'd managed to call to Malik to call Security before she rushed
over... now if only they didn't take *ages* to respond, like they
usually did!

* * *

Luka tapped on the window of the green Toyota, but even a cursory glance
told him that the man inside - Pauly Johnson - was in no condition to
open the door. He reached for the car keys Loren had handed him, and got
the door opened. The three of them managed to wrestle Pauly out of the
car and onto the gurney, where Yosh began bagging as Luka listened with
his stethoscope.

He shook his head, and gestured for Chuny and Yosh to help him get the
gurney inside. They were only a few yards from the door when they heard
the gunshot, followed by a woman's scream. "Oh, my God!" Chuny's
exclamation was involuntary, and Luka felt his gut tighten up.

"Chuny, you and Yosh take the gurney . I'm going to see what's going on
in there."

"Be careful!" He nodded absently at Yosh's words, and headed for the
door.

* * *

The sound of the explosion and the scream got Dave's attention
immediately; he hastily excused himself - telling himself he was just
going to see what was going on - and left Lydia to keep an eye on the
patient. He was horrified to find that the sound was exactly what he'd
feared it was, and gulped at the sight of the body lying in a pool of
blood... despite the damage, he recognized Dr Lawrence. It was also
immediately evident that the man was well past resuscitation - grey
matter was everywhere.

He also saw the Chief quietly freaking out nearby and pulled her away,
putting his arms around her to break her line of sight with the body.
"Hey, hey, hey," he quietly cooed into her ear as she whimpered softly.
She was wound up tight as a spring, unsurprisingly. "C'mon, Chief. I can
give you some Ativan, to help you rest." She shook her head.

"No. No Ativan."

"Are you sure about that? It won't take me more than a sec to--"

"No... I don't want to hurt the baby." It took him a second to grasp the
import of the huskily muttered words.

"The-- Chief, are you pregnant?" She nodded convulsively. "Wow.
Congratula-- um... I mean...." Dave's faltering attempts at a reaction
were cut off, to his relief, by the sight of Dr Kovac's entrance.
However, the other man stayed just long enough to note Dr Lawrence's
body on the floor, and then he ducked back outside. Dave frowned, and
went back to comforting his Chief.

A second later, Dr Kovac had returned, with Chuny and Yosh and a guy on
a gurney who looked like he'd seen better days. Ordinarily, Dave
would've been chomping at the bit to get in on such an "exciting"
trauma, but-- oh, shit. Lydia was peering out the door of the exam room,
and shooting him a look that promised extreme vengeance if he didn't get
back in there *now*. "R-Randi? Can you, uh...." He indicated the Chief
with a slight tilt of his head, and she rolled her eyes at him but
hurried over.

"Dr Weaver. C'mon." She'd thrown aside her magazine and looked up when
Dr Weaver shouted like that, and her heart had gone straight into her
throat when she saw Dr Lawrence standing there with a gun in his hand.
She'd liked the guy a *lot*, right from the start, and his illness had
been as much of a shock to her as it had been to the others here.
Granted, Dr Kovac was easy on the eyes and a pretty good doctor, despite
all the jokes, but she'd still missed Dr Lawrence.

Watching Dr Weaver crumbling like that as she tried to talk him down...
Randi had silently prayed that Dr Weaver'd succeed. Nevertheless, she'd
pushed the few people behind the desk with her down onto the floor, just
in case. They'd all been crouched down there when they heard the shot,
the sound of a body falling to the floor, and somebody screaming.

"Normally I'd suggest a good stiff shot," Malucci joked, "but--"

"Right, right. The baby," she muttered, putting a protective arm around
Dr Weaver's shoulders to guide her to the lounge.

"What? She told *you* first?" Randi made a face at him over her
shoulder.

"Grow up, Malucci. *Shut* up, for that matter... and get back in that
exam room, before Lydia starts plotting your death."

* * *

Carl DeRaad was nearly done with paperwork when he got the page - he
looked at the pager, and sighed... the ER, again. He wondered what it
was *this* time... a schizophrenic off meds? Maybe an over-eager
resident had made the page on a drunk... again. He shook his head, and
headed down there.

He definitely wasn't expecting what he found, though - part of the lobby
had been cordoned off by the police who were swarming around, and he
could see a dark splash against the wall. He frowned - surely he
wouldn't have been paged down for a suicide! - and then spotted Dr
Kovac, who'd clearly been waiting for him. "Dr Kovac... you paged me?"

"Yes, I did. Uh... there was a patient, a little over a year ago. Loren
Johnson." DeRaad looked blank, so he continued. "I had called you down
for a consult on her husband, Paul Johnson--" DeRaad remembered Paul
Johnson, all right... he'd agreed that the guy was scum, and probably
*was* abusing his wife, but none of that was grounds for a psychiatric
hold, unfortunately.

"Ohhh, yes. *Him*. Don't tell me you've got *another* hold on him, Dr
Kovac!"

"Well... no. But his body is in the other room, waiting for Transpo down
to the morgue - his wife shot him, and then brought him in. I need you
to talk to his wife; she's in Exam 3, with one of the police." DeRaad
groaned, and rubbed his forehead.

"That's just wonderful. Hey, what's the deal over there?" He pointed at
the police, who appeared to be hard at work.

"Apparently somebody - Dr Lawrence, who used to work here - took the gun
away from Loren, and then shot himself."

"*What*? Why didn't anybody see him?" Luka shook his head wearily.

"I don't know. There were a lot of people here at the time - some of
them left when the gun went off, and others left when the police arrived
- and I assume he was hiding behind them."

"All right. I think it would be best if you took yourself off this case.
With Loren Johnson, I mean. I'll take over from here."

"What?!"

"You heard me. Make full notes about what happened here tonight,
there'll probably be an M&M. And-- um... where's Kerry?" Luka slumped
against the wall.

"Apparently Dr Lawrence shot himself in front of her."

"What? Where were you?"

"I was outside. Two nurses and I were getting Mr Johnson out of his car,
to bring him inside... to try to resuscitate him." Luka's tone made it
clear that he would have rather been doing just about anything other
than lifting a finger to save Paul Johnson's life. "I've already told
the police all of that. Chuny and Yosh have also given their
statements."

"Oh, Christ. Like I said, make your notes. Go see to Kerry first,
though."

"Yeah." DeRaad watched Dr Kovac quickly head for the lounge, and shook
his head. He hadn't even bothered to ask why the guy hadn't looked in on
Kerry sooner... he'd seen the way Kovac's eyes kept darting towards that
door. A little while after Kovac entered the lounge, that cute desk
clerk with the unique sense of style came out. He'd never really talked
to her, but he'd heard that she had a good head on her shoulders;
undoubtedly she'd been looking after Kerry. He shook his head, and went
in the direction of Exam 3, to talk to Loren Johnson.

* * *

Dave picked up the phone and hit "9" for an outside line... then seven
more digits. To his disappointment, he got the answering machine, but
the sound of the familiar voice helped soothe his nerves a little. "Hey,
babe. Guess you have a shift today. Call me when you get home, okay? Um,
I love you. Bye." He felt a little weird, having said those three words,
even just to a machine, but now that they'd crossed his lips... he also
felt kinda liberated, in a way.




POST-OP NOTES:

I *was* going to follow the course of events WRT Mark's return, but then
I remembered two things: 1, I remembered that I agreed with the folks
who thought he should have been tested *before* he returned to work, and
2, I remembered that I just didn't care enough to write the scenes
*anyway*. :-) And, of course, the Firestorm In The ER!!! was just plain
silly.

--
Ellen K. Hursh - simplify addy to reply
"Sometimes I think about two women doing a spell, and
then I do a spell all by myself."--Xander, "Restless"