Title: Lost Part 3
Rating: FRT for language and adult situations
Disclaimer: Sadly I don’t own anyone…and if I did, they would probably take them away from me for abusing them so much :P
Spoilers: None Completly AU
Content Warning: INCREDIBLY dark and disturbing. MAJOR bad language usage, drug themes and references, violence and character death.
THIS CHAPTER REQUIRES KLENEX PRESENT IF YOU ARE A CRYER.
PART 1, Part 2
As I exit the hospital, the cool wind hits me, causing me to huddle up even tighter under my thin leather jacket, finding myself incredibly grateful that I had grabbed a scrub shirt to wear in absence of my own shirt because it was hella cold out tonight.
“Ray wait!” I hear a voice call my name and I turn to see Pratt jogging towards me. Shaking my head, I bundle myself further into my jacket and shake my head, ignoring him completely. Thinking maybe if I did that, he would just go away. “You can’t leave here Ray.” He calls again; catching up to me and spinning me back around to face him.
“You are sick Ray, you need treatment, that is the only way you are going to beat this.”
I shake my head again. “No Pratt, that is what’s going to kill me. Stuck in fucking rehab for what months? Years? Fuck that, I can’t live in Neela’s memory, I can’t make her happy if I’m locked up in some junkie jail cell I won’t do it.”
“So how do you expect to get on your feet? Get clean?” he asks “On the streets? With your little poser band with groupies and dealers throwing themselves at you? Is that how someone gets clean now a days Ray?” He grips me tighter, trying to pull me back into the ER, but I manage to shove him off, sending him stumbling backwards.
“I don’t know how I am going to do it.” I reply “But I am going to do it my way Pratt…” I turn and start to walk away, stumbling slightly. It was starting to hit me, the need, the want…but I had to fight it, I had to be strong, show Pratt I could beat it without rehab facilities, without anyone’s help.
“So your gonna just quit cold turkey then.” He says “Cuz that worked for so many transients before you.” I hear him sigh, before he once again catches up tome, grabbing and spinning. But this time I was ready for him. I knee him in the stomach quickly, pulling him so he was leaning forward so I could follow up with a knee to the chin before shoving him backwards into a nearby brick wall, and sliding to the ground.
I stand there now, out of breath, unable to look away from him lying there. What had I done? He was just trying to help me…trying to be a friend, to make me better, and look what I had done to him…oh god, what if I killed him?
I rush forward quickly, kneeling by his side and checking him over. Stomach seemed ok…bruising on the chin but his jaw seemed intact…I moved him away from the wall, and that is when I saw it, red and sticky gleaming from the dim streetlights…blood, a lot of it.
“Fuck!” I curse loudly, frowning and removing my jacket, forgetting all about the bitter cold now as I cupped his head into my hand, using the jacket to put pressure on the large contusion on his head as I lifted him into my arms and headed back inside.
“Help somebody help!” I call loudly as I enter the dark and empty ER. “I have a head contusion and…” I frown as I try to remember the technical lingo I used to use so freely back when I worked here. “Ah fuck it he hit his head and he’s bleeding profusely. He needs a head CT and a catscan…and probably something to stop the bleeding…my jacket isn’t doing a very good job…”
I was babbling, but loud enough I guess for people to hear. Hope and Sam rush from the break room quickly and to my side, bringing a gurney with them. I lay Pratt on it carefully and we begin to wheel him to a trauma room.
“What happened?” Hope asks, looking him over as Sam shakes him, calling his name softly, to which she gets no response.
I swallow, no need to get into it with them right now. I had a friend in need, and this time I wasn’t going to loose them. “He and I were outside…getting some air and he slipped, hit his head.”
I remove my jacket from his head and grab some towels from Sam’s hands, quickly replacing it and dropping it to the floor. “Sam, get me some local…we need to make him comfortable so I can stitch up his head…”
“Uh Ray…” Sam replies, frowning as I look up at her “Maybe you should let Hope do that…you’re not a practicing Doctor anymore…” She was giving me that look again, the pity look, the funeral look…the I’m sorry look…
I shake my head, but Sam grabs me gently, not like Pratt had at all and leads me away. “Let’s get you back to your bed ok?” she says softly “Hope and I will take care of Pratt and let you know how he is…”
I shake my head. “No…I want to stay. I want to make sure he’s ok…”
She nods again and grabs a chair, dragging it over beside him before busying herself getting the suture stuff together for Hope. I sit there silently, watching Pratt lying there, sleeping silently…I had to stop this crap…but I couldn’t do what he wanted, I couldn’t go to a facility…
“Dr Barnett…” I hear Hope say softly, snapping me out of my thoughts. I lookup to see her holding out the tray for me with a soft smile, she adds “Why don’t you handle this one?”
I look to Sam, who was giving Hope an incredibly dirty look. Hope looks to Sam “Common Sam, he brought him in, possibly saved his life…it’s not like his licence was suspended…” Sam nods, saying nothing and I smile, rising from the chair and taking the gloves from Hope, she even remembered my size.
The rest happened so fast…I stitched Pratt up like it had been the millionth one I had done that day, and not the first one in months. Hope and Sam fawned over me and how well I did, how it was good to have me back. They even left me alone to sit with him while they went and got some shuteye, dealt with their rounds.
I had to get better, I had to be the man they thought I could be…and I had to get out of here to do that. I poke my head out of the room to find the hallway empty. Moving quickly, I sneak across the ER to the front doors, grabbing a coat from the guard station and dashing back outside. I had to do this, but on MY terms. They would understand that.
I wonder the streets in a daze. I thought it would be so simple to get back on track after leaving the hospital, but as soon as the cool air hit me, my legs felt like jello and my vision was blurring. What was going on? I felt…a little dizzy but that was usual lately…then it hit me. I had been in the hospital, for how long I didn’t know, hooked up to Ivs but still, they didn’t give my body what it thought it needed. I collapse into a nearby alleyway, shaking now, finding it incredibly hard to breathe.
“It hurts doesn’t it?” a familiar voice sounds from my left. I turn my head, shocked at what I see.
“Neela?” I reply squinting my eyes to be sure they weren’t deceiving me.
She nods and kneels in front of me, cupping my face softly. “Shh Ray it’s all right, I’m here, I will keep you safe.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. “You can’t be here…your dead I saw you…I held you in my arms…” I open my eyes to look upon her beautiful features once more, that face, those eyes…I had missed them so much…
She nods sadly. “I know…I had to leave, I didn’t want to…but I’m back now…or somewhat.” She smiles “Think of me as a guardian Angel of sorts…”
I nod, unable to really comprehend what exactly it was she was saying, my eyes beginning to feel incredibly heavy now. “Go to sleep Ray.” She says softly, stroking my hair lightly. “I may not be here straight away when you wake up, but I promise I will come back…”
I nod and curl myself into a ball on the ground, closing my eyes and slowly drifting off to sleep, her fingers still curling through my hair, her soft whispers calming my shakes slightly. I couldn’t even feel the cold anymore…