Merry Christmas, Doctor Carter

Like a Gunshot

"See? Being stubborn pays off sometimes," Taking a quick look at the monitor, Mark saw that his heart rate was still on the low side. "Maybe put him on a round of Atropine to help him along. Let me know when he wakes up."

Lucy nodded. "I'll stay with him."

"No, you have patients. He'll be fine. It'll help to keep yourself busy."

As Lucy followed him out, she raised a question, "You said you he came back from this before. Is there something wrong with him?"

"I think it would be best if you asked him yourself."

"But there is, isn't there?"

Mark stopped, turned and stared at her with such intent. "There was something, but he's better now."

"Doesn't look like it to me."

"Look, just focus on other things, okay? It will not do you any good worrying about it, believe me."

Lucy tried to shake off the feeling that he might die. It was tougher than she thought. She cared deeply for him, and it proved to be difficult to not right now. Instead of doing as she had been told, Lucy went back inside the Trauma Room, pulled up a stool and breathed heavily as she eased herself down and watched John.

She brushed back a few strands of John's hair, completely enamoured with him as she did so. The sensation had made him open his eyes, and quickly, she drew her hand away.

For the longest time, he simply stared at her, squinting through the bleariness in his eyes. Eventually, the sweet, kind and familiar face of Lucy's became clearer. "Lucy?"

"Hey," she said in a whisper, smiling broadly. "You, uh, had a bit of an accident, but you're okay now. I think."

He looked around the room, immediately took in his surroundings, and realised he was in the ER. Glancing down, he noticed the electrodes on his chest, the IVs in his arm and his eyes trailed up from the needle and to the monitor. A frustrated moan escaped from John. He'd been admitted.

Not on his watch.

John shot out of the gurney, ripping out the needle and tearing off the electrodes. It was a mere annoyance, but that wasn't to say it didn't hurt. He just didn't care in that instant.

"Woah! Doctor Carter, I think you need to stay put."

"No. No, I am not doing this again!" Speedily, he buttoned up his shirt and slid his arms into his coat. "I am fine. Great, excellent," He then reiterated his case in shoddy Spanish, "Very good!"

"You stopped breathing," she said. "I would have intubated if Doctor Greene didn't stop me."

"You?" he asked incredulously. "I'm glad you didn't."

"I'm serious! You almost died."

His shoulders slumped with his sigh. There was no point in denying it. The first few times he heard those three words, you almost died, it scared the crap out of him. These days, it didn't faze him. The fact that he was standing here at all did, however. He had a DNR order. How could he be alive, unless...?

"Did you bring me back?"

Lucy shook her head. "You came back on your own. The most we did was give you Atropine."