Homeless Once More, Part Ten
By Cathy Roberts
glroberts@bigfoot.com
A John Carter story, rated M15.

"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. However this
story may not be used, distributed or archived without the
permission of the author.

As always, thank you to Melissa, my editor.

The last episode seen was "Nobody Doesn't Like Amanda Lee"



Hugh McIntyre glanced down at his watch. It was 3:30 in the
afternoon and he was going to be able to get back home. He had
been awake since he had been called the night before. It had
been the attending on the psychiatric floor, frantic because
John Carter had left his room and was no where to be found.
So much had happened since that call. John had been found in
Dan Litvak's office by Peter Benton. It appeared that John was
there to kill Litvak because Litvak had been the person who had
attacked him the night before. Exhausted and suffering from
many physical injuries, including two separate blows to the head,
John was anything but stable as he waited in Litvak's office
with Dr. Benton and McIntyre for the news that Litvak had been
arrested. At one point, he had even cut himself several times.
Further injury had been prevented when Dr. Benton had intervened
and taken the scalpel away from John. McIntyre should have seen
then that the news that Dan Litvak was dead would send John over
the edge, but he had not foreseen that possibility, so he was
surprised at John's reaction to the news. They had been forced
to sedate John in order to get him back to the psychiatric floor.
Even then he was not cooperative. Kerry Weaver had brought in
clothing for him and McIntyre instructed the nurses to change him
into the pajamas that Weaver had brought. You would have thought
that the women were trying to skin him alive by his reaction.
Finally, Peter Benton promised John that he would not leave him
alone, that he would stay with him the rest of the day unless he
received a page regarding his own son. After that John had calmed
down and he allowed the nurses to dress him. Then he had fallen
asleep.

It had been around noon when John awoke and he seemed to be
less confused than he had earlier that day. McIntyre knew the
rest had done him some good but he wasn't as sure as John was
that speaking with the police today would be a good thing.
Still, John had insisted that he could handle giving the police
a statement, so McIntyre had called them to make the arrangements
for the officers to come to the hospital. Once they arrived,
McIntyre discovered that he had no need to worry. John had
handled the meeting very well. The officers only needed for
him to identify Dan Litvak as his attacker and they declined
to ask him any further questions regarding the attack.

At John's request, McIntyre had telephoned Mark Greene to ask
him if he would act as John's physician while the young man was
in the hospital. Dr. Greene had readily agreed and the two of
them ran the idea past Dr. Anspaugh who approved it. Greene
had come in early for his shift and he was examining John now.
Just as soon as Greene had apprised him of John's condition
and he himself saw John one more time, he was going home. If
he was lucky, he would get a chance to have dinner with his
wife and children before he passed out from lack of sleep.

He could hear the voices raised in anger before he had a chance
to enter the code in the locked door. He hurried through, then
came to a quick stop as he saw who the two combatants were;
Mark Greene and Peter Benton. They were both angry and Benton
had a tight grip on a chart, which Greene was trying to get.

"Doctors! I should not have to remind you that this is a
hospital. Come with me right now." McIntyre headed back
down the hall, trusting that the two men were following him.
As he punched in the code, he could hear their footsteps.
He shook his head. He didn't need this. All he wanted was
to go home, get a good meal, and go to bed. He didn't want
to play referee or counselor.

Peter and Mark followed McIntyre down to his office. Even
though they were both quiet, McIntyre could feel the hostility
in the air.

"I want to know just what the two of you thought you were
doing arguing in the hallway like that? There are patients
on this floor who do not need that kind of disturbance."
McIntyre sat down behind his desk and waited for one of them
to begin.

"I apologize, Dr. McIntyre. I was merely trying to retrieve
John's chart," Mark said.

Peter glared at him, then looked to McIntyre. "I also apologize
for my behavior. I was merely trying to see how John was
doing and Mark became angry the minute he saw me looking at
John's chart."

"John is my patient, Peter. Not yours. I'm sorry if your
ego can't handle the fact that he asked for me, but you'll
just have to live with that fact. You have no right to be
snooping around in his chart."

"I am on record as being one of physicians who treated him
when he was brought in last night and that gives me the right
to look at his chart, Mark. And it's a good thing I did, too.
Are you aware that some of the paperwork from the lab is
missing?"

"You must be mistaken," Mark said, knowing full well that
Peter was not in error.

"Look for yourself." Peter opened the chart to the lab report,
then handed it to Mark. "The last page clearly indicates that
at least one more page should follow. There isn't another
page. I looked through the entire chart. It's obvious that
the lab made a mistake."

"I'm sure that it's nothing to worry about, Dr. Benton,"
McIntyre said. "I often find that the last page is just a
summary of what went before."

"Sometimes that's true. But not all the time. I'm going to
call the lab and have them re-print the report." Peter
reached for McIntyre's telephone.

"Peter, don't," Mark reached out a hand to stop him. "The
lab didn't misplace the rest of the report. I removed it."

"You did what? Mark, what on earth would possess you to do
something like that?"

Mark sat down and took off his glasses so he could rub his
eyes. There was no easy way to say what he had to say. "The
page that is missing confirms something that I suspected
during the exam. Something that as far as I can tell, John
doesn't remember. I felt it would be better for him if it
wasn't in his chart."

"Mark, you aren't making any sense to me."

"It was the results from the swabs."

"But, you said there was no penetra..." Peter's voice trailed
off as he suddenly realized what Mark meant. He looked over
at McIntyre and saw by the look on the doctor's face that he
had also known about the test results.

"So you took it upon yourself to keep this information
secret?" Peter asked.

"Yes. I know that what I did was wrong, but Peter, I honestly
don't think that it needs to be in there. Especially since Dan
Litvak is dead. Anyone who is employed by this hospital can
theoretically get their hands on John's chart. I did not
think that he would be all right with the idea of someone,
anyone, being able to read that particular report."

"Hell, you may be right. I don't know. Fine. I won't have
the lab reprint the report. But, what will you do if he
remembers what happened?"

"I'll deal with that when and if it happens," McIntyre replied.

Peter nodded, not really liking the deception, but realizing
that it was in John's best interest. "There's also a question
regarding the level of morphine in his system. It seems as if
he was prescribed a high dosage. Why? And who prescribed it
for him?"

"I don't know the answers to that, Peter. But, I do have my
suspicions. I'll talk to some people down in the E.R. tonight
and see what I can find out."

"Good enough."

"Well, since we're all here together, can you tell me how
John is doing?" McIntyre asked.

"Well, the swelling around his eye seems to be about as bad as
it will get. From now on it should start to recede. I had the
nurse change the dressings on his cuts and there's no sign of
infection. Aside from a headache, he has no physical complaints
other than being sore. Either he's lying to me about that or
he just isn't feeling much pain. I offered him a mild pain
killer, but he refused. His hydration level isn't great, but
he assured me that he will increase his fluid intake. I
ordered the nurse to make sure that he has plenty of juice
and water available. The vision in his right eye is slightly
blurry, but that's to be expected. I won't worry about that
unless it's the same way in the morning. His blood pressure
is low, but not bad overall. His pulse is strong. His
breathing is shallow, but again, considering his fractured
ribs, not unexpected."

"Did he ask you about how long he would have to remain in
the hospital?" McIntyre asked.

"No. I'm concerned about making sure that there's no damage
to his left eye. Once he's given a green light on that, then
I don't see any physical reason why he can't be discharged.
He was very coherent with me and his questions seemed reasonable.
The question is, how is he emotionally and mentally?"

"I guess I'll be trying to get those answers tomorrow. Thank
you for coming in early to examine him. I appreciate it."

"No problem. If you'll excuse me, I told his parents that I
would let them know the results of the exam. Peter, I'll see
you around."

"Sure."

"I'll walk out with you. I want to check on John one more
time before I go home. Dr. Benton?"

"I'll be right there."

Mark and McIntyre left and Benton sat down in a chair to think.
He had never thought of himself as a dishonest person. He
hated the idea of lying to a patient, even if it appeared to
be in the best interest of the patient. He didn't like the
idea of removing any of John's records, no matter what the
reason. He didn't understand why McIntyre was going along
with the idea. Had he not assured him that he felt he needed
to be honest at all times? He must be really concerned about
John's mental and emotional well-being if he felt it necessary
to keep this information out of the records. Peter shuddered
as he thought about what someone like Dale Edson would do or
say if he had his hands on that information. Maybe McIntyre
and Mark were right about this. He just didn't know. He hated
not being sure about things. Life would be so much easier if
all of the decisions were clear-cut. With a sigh he got up
and left McIntyre's office, heading back to John's room and
the one sure thing he knew right now: John needed him and
felt safe while he was around, and there was no way that he
was going to let John down this time.



John's head pulsed with pain with every breath he took. Still,
he was reluctant to ask for anything to dull the pain. At
least the pain told him that he had not gone completely numb.
He was tired, but every time he tried to get some sleep he
just couldn't. Either people kept coming in and out of his
room or he found himself unable to sleep because he kept
asking himself questions. Questions such as why he had
opened the apartment door in the first place. Or wasn't
there something, anything that he could have done to have
prevented the attack. He was glad the police officer had not
asked too many questions. Still, giving his statement had
been tougher than he had expected. Telling the officer that
Litvak had been his attacker had been the easy part, it was
seeing the way the officer looked at him that had been hard
to handle. He knew what the officer was thinking, it was plain
as day. 'This isn't a small guy, how could he let something
like this happen?' The same question that John kept asking
himself. In a way, he was glad to be on the locked end of
the ward because he wasn't placed at the mercy of any and
all who wanted to visit him. He didn't want visitors in his
room giving him those pitying looks. It was bad enough
having his parents there feeling sorry for him. He certainly
didn't need to have anyone else feeling sorry for him. Or
feeling that maybe he had finally received his just punishment
for what he had done to Chase. He sometimes thought that maybe
this was God's punishment for all his sins. He knew he
deserved to be punished for all the wrong he had done.
He had hurt a lot of people. Dennis. Chase. Even Roxanne.
Just today he had hurt his sister. Barbara had called
their father on his cell phone to say that she had finally
gotten a flight to the states and would be there before too
long. John wouldn't even speak to his sister. He simply
told his father to tell her not to bother. That he didn't
want or need her there. John could tell by the look on his
father's face that Barb had heard what he had said and was
upset by it. His dad then went to the other side of the
room to finish the conversation. To calm Barb down and
explain to her how John just wasn't himself and didn't mean
what he had said. He was getting tired of having people
treat him as if he were a child who needed to be spoken to
in short and simple sentences because he was confused by
anything else.

In John's eyes, his parents were the worst offenders. If
they weren't looking at him as if he were going to fall apart,
they were constantly reassuring him that they loved him and
were there for him. And how could he complain about that?
It was, after all, what he had said he wanted. And now he
had it. 'Be careful what you wish for,' he thought. The
catch was that he had wanted them to stay around because they
wanted to be in Chicago with him and not because they felt
obligated to be there for him.

Well, at least he wouldn't have to deal with them again until
the morning. They had gone home for the night, mainly
because McIntyre came close to throwing them out. He really
did like Hugh McIntyre, especially when he wasn't asking
him questions, but instead was dealing with those around
him. McIntyre had suggested that his parents leave because
John didn't need to be entertaining visitors all day and
into the night. His parents had insisted on staying, his
father pointing out that since Benton wasn't a relative,
he should be the one to leave. Well, his father didn't say
it in those exact words, but the meaning was the same.
Peter had just sat there quietly, letting McIntyre handle his
parents. After that McIntyre had insisted that they leave
and not return until visiting hours began at ten the next
morning. His dad was angry over that, but his mom calmed
him down and then they left. McIntyre then said his good-byes,
telling John that he would see him first thing in the morning.
That left him alone with Peter, who sat still and quiet in
the chair by the window. At least Peter didn't expect any
conversation. Still, John wanted to be alone. Just how
long did Peter plan to say? He had mentioned all day at one
point. Well, the day was nearly over. Maybe he would leave
early? It wouldn't hurt to ask.

John cleared his throat. "You don't have to stay."

"I promised you that I would."

"Don't feel obligated to keep me company."

"I don't. I wouldn't have made you a promise like that if
I didn't want to stay. It's not an obligation, John."

"Well, I won't hold you to that promise. You have better
things to do with your life."

"I'll stay. It's really not a problem. As a matter of fact,
it's been nice having an entire day with nothing to do."

"Look, I really do appreciate that you stayed and got a day's
vacation out of it, but right now I'd really like to be
alone, okay?"

Peter gazed at him steadily. "Not really. I don't feel
that you should be left alone."

"It's not as if something bad can happen to me in here."
John waved his hand, to show he meant the room.

"Something did happen the last time you were left alone."

John was momentarily confused, then he remembered the
incident in the bathroom after lunch. He thought that Peter
was referring to that and not to when Litvak had attacked
him. At least he hoped that was what Peter meant.

"I didn't need the I.V. any longer and it was bothering me,
so I removed it. It wasn't a big deal."

"I wasn't talking about the I.V. You know I was talking about
what else happened in the bathroom."

"It still isn't necessary for you to stay. All I'm going
to do is sleep."

"Are you? From what I've noticed, you haven't slept much
today. You've pretended to sleep quite a bit, though."

"And just what does that have to do with you leaving?" John
angrily asked.

"You really want me to go, don't you?"

"Yes."

"I'll leave after you eat dinner."

"Good." John rolled over to his right side, intending to
try to sleep again. He frowned as he realized that he was
looking straight at Peter.

"Do you have to sit there?"

"The chairs are on this side of the room, John. Where else
should I sit?"

"You can move to the other side of the room."

Peter calmly picked up the chair and moved it to the other
side of John's bed, then he sat back down. "Is that better?"

"Yes."

"Good. Go to sleep."

Damn him. Why couldn't he just go as he asked? Litvak
wouldn't leave when he asked him to, now Peter wouldn't
leave. That dreaded feeling of helplessness hit him again
and he felt a tear slip down his cheek. He hated feeling
as if no one was listening to him or that they didn't care
what he wanted. Sleep eluded him as he lay there quietly
crying, his doubts and frustrations swirling around in
his head.

Peter couldn't hear any noise coming from the other side
of the bed, but he knew that John was crying and not
sleeping. Maybe he should have left. He wasn't sure about
that. But he couldn't forget how John had looked earlier
in the bathroom when he had his flashback to the attack.
Peter knew he didn't want to leave him to face something
like that alone. Again. He glanced at his watch, noting
that it would be less than hour before the dinner trays
were brought around. He would stay to make sure that John
ate, then he would go home. He wanted to go by Carla's to
pick up Reese and spend some time alone with his son. He
had done a lot of thinking about fatherhood today and all
the responsibilities that came with it. Sure, it lit up
his life when Reese smiled the minute he saw him. Reese
obviously loved him and knew him as his daddy. That
couldn't help but make his heart swell. But, what had
happened to John had made him see that there was so much
out there that could harm his own son. And seeing John's
parents had made him realize that sometimes parents can
harm their own children without meaning to. The Carters
had done that and now they were almost desperate in their
efforts to undo that harm. Peter hoped that they weren't
too late.



The E.R. had been steadily busy ever since Mark had reported
early for work. He had felt that the cases would never stop,
but they had finally slacked off and after taking a short
coffee break, he was hoping to have a chance to speak with
Kerry about John. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee
when the door opened and Kerry entered the lounge.

"Can I pour you a cup?" he asked.

"That would be nice." Kerry wearily sat down on the couch.

"You look worn out, Kerry." Mark handed her the coffee,
then sat down beside her.

"I am. I didn't get much sleep last night. I was surprised
when you showed up early. I thought that you would want to
get as much rest as possible since you pulled two shifts
yesterday."

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, so I figured
that I would come on in. Dr. McIntyre called me to ask
if I would be John's physician while he's in the hospital."

"So you've seen John then? How is he?"

Mark nodded, "He seems to be doing fine physically, even
though he looks like death warmed over."

"You didn't look so good yourself after you were beaten."

"I don't need to be reminded of that, Kerry," he snapped.
He could remember all too well the horror he had felt when
he had looked in the mirror after his beating. It had been
a shock to see the bruises and cuts. It had been even harder
to see the haunted look which had been in his eyes. The
same haunted look had been in John's eyes also.

"I'm sorry. I imagine that this is bringing back some bad
memories for you."

"Yeah, it is." Mark stared down at the coffee cup cradled
in his hands. "It is. But, right now I can't take the time
to worry about that. I wanted to ask you if you knew who
had prescribed the pain killers to John?"

"I think it was Maggie Doyle. Why?"

"He traces of morphine in his system when he was brought
in herr> think there's a problem though. It isn't really that unusual
for traces of an opiate to show up later."

"That would depend on the dosage of the pills she prescribed
for him, wouldn't it?"

"You're thinking that John took more than was prescribed?"

Mark nodded. "That was my first thought. I know that after
he found out how Corinna Nelson was doing he seemed depressed.
He wasn't around when I left to go home so we never had a
chance to talk about it. I'm afraid that he might not have
been as far out of his depression as we thought he was. I
haven't said anything to Dr. McIntyre about it, but if it
turns out that John took more than Doyle prescribed then I
will speak to Dr. McIntyre. If John was already depressed
when Litvak attacked him then there's no telling what the
attack might do to him emotionally."

"You're afraid he might try to kill himself?"

"He's already tried once, Kerry." Mark frowned, remembering
how withdrawn John had looked that day on the roof. So
small and forlorn.

"He's been in therapy since then, Mark. He seems fine
at home."

"He injured himself this morning," Mark said.

Kerry looked shocked, "What? How?"

"He cut himself with a scalpel while waiting for news about
Litvak's arrest. He wasn't trying to kill himself or
anything like that. He just ended up cutting himself in
several places. The majority of the cuts aren't serious,
only two of them needed stitches. Still, there's no ignoring
the fact that he did it."

"Mark, he has a concussion and was probably confused and
disoriented. I don't think that you can connect what happened
this morning with the chance that he might try to kill himself."

"I hope you're right, Kerry." Mark stood and put his cup
on the counter. "I really hope you're right."

Kerry watched him leave, hoping the same thing. She could
remember all too well the terrible feelings of helplessness
and despair that had surrounded her after she had been raped.
Some of those feelings were there because of the physical
damage that had been done, but most of them were from the
attack itself. It had taken a long time for her to feel
safe once more. There were times when she still felt
uneasy at the prospect of being alone somewhere. That
was one of the reasons that in the past she had always had
roommates. Until she moved to Chicago to be an intern. She
had been a stranger to the city and didn't know anyone. Her
need to succeed at all costs despite her physical handicap
made her seem hard and cold. No one seemed too interested in
being her friend. Well, one person had, but she had thought
that her fellow intern was only after sex. After all, she
had heard Doug Ross boasting to one of the other men that he
would bed all the female interns at the hospital before the
year was out. After hearing him say that, how could she
accept his overtures of friendship? She had been extra
cold to him and after a while, he stopped asking if she
wanted to join him for coffee. In a way, it was a shame,
because she had genuinely liked Doug when she first met him.
Looking back, Kerry could see that overhearing that
conversation had been a big turning point in how she saw Doug.
She wondered if things would have been different if he had
never said those words or if she had never overheard him.
Not that it made any difference. It was obvious that he and
Carol Hathaway were made for each other. Maybe she could
concede the fact that Doug Ross had grown up a lot since his
days as an intern. Maybe. He still had that small problem
with authority though. Not at all like John. John listened
to his supervisors. Sure, there were times when he disagreed
with what they had to say. When that happened, he somehow
managed to sneak around the one whose opinion he didn't agree
with. She smiled as she remembered how carefully he had
manipulated her into bringing him onto the trauma staff.
He had been smooth about that. So smooth that she was shocked
when Anspaugh had exploded at her when she spoke to him about
it. She had never seen Don Anspaugh that angry and hoped she
never would again. He had told her in no uncertain terms
that John Carter would not leave surgery for trauma and that
if he ever heard her mention it to him again that he would
make sure she and John never had a chance to see each other
again, that he would bury John on the night shift for the
rest of his internship and possibly even his entire residency.
When she had confronted John about it, John had confessed that
he had hoped she would be able to convince Anspaugh that he
should be allowed to switch. She had been angry with him.
Not as angry as Anspaugh had been with her, but she let John
know that she did not appreciate being used that way. She
smiled as she remembered how surprised she had been the next
afternoon when Anspaugh called her and Mark into his office
and told them that John was switching to trauma from surgery.
Somehow, someway, John Carter had maneuvered his way into the
position he wanted. She still wasn't sure how he had pulled
that one off. But he had. Couldn't get himself out of having
to do another internship though. He had tried his best to
get out of that, but he hadn't found a way. John had stuck
it out and he had been an excellent student. He was a quick
learner and she really did enjoy working with him.

Now he was faced with another situation not to his liking
and she wondered how he was going to react once he realized
that this was another one of those times that he couldn't fix
things to suit his own needs. That was the worst feeling, she
remembered. The knowledge that you had no control over what
happened to you. It had taken her a long time to feel as
if she was back in control of her life. Every now and then
she would get the sinking feeling that she wasn't really in
control, that it was all just a lie and her life was going
to slip through her fingers. Time had helped to heal her
and she prayed that time would help to heal John as well.
She wanted him to feel in control of his life once more.
She wanted him to feel safe and secure. That reminded her
of her appointment with her realtor. She would need to
leave work early in order to meet the woman at the house she
wanted to look at. Kerry put her cup on the counter, then
went in search of Amanda Lee to let her know she was leaving
early. Maybe if luck was on her side she could find a house
quickly and get out of that apartment.