Well, here it is: the final chapter! I'm sorry it took so long for me to finish this. It's weird, because I have to be a certain level of depressed to write (99% of the time), and lately I've been too depressed! Anyway... I have more stories written, but I just never thought they were good enough to post; and now that I've kind of completed my series, I feel like if I post any more, it might just confuse people about where it fits in at. I'll post more if you want, you just let me know!
Now...thefinalchapter,thankyouveryMUCH!
-Part 5-
"Left Behind"
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the spring of Dove;
A maid whom there were none to praise,
And very few to love.
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and O,
The difference to me!
~ William Wordsworth – "Lucy" ~
My insides all turned to ash
So slow
And blew away as I collapsed
So cold
A black wind took them away
From sight
And held the darkness over day
That night
And the clouds above moved closer
Looking so dissatisfied
But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing
~ One Week Later ~
"You're my anchor in a restless world... You are my strength and my greatest comfort..."
Barbara Knight's words seem to catch in her throat, stifling a sob as she reads a short letter she has written for this especially somber, but spectacularly beautiful, winter afternoon. Having come to Chicago to deal with her daughter's affairs, among other things, she's decided to allow Lucy's ER family to mourn with her before she returns home to lay her beloved daughter to rest. Mrs. Knight knows that this is where Lucy loved to come and decompress during a shift—whether it was rough or enlightening—because of the letters and phone conversations they had shared over the last year-and-a-half.
Watching Lucy's mother speak so openly and candidly, Robin sees so much of her daughter in Barbara's eyes. Her face. Her demeanor. Her personality. She watches the broken woman standing next to the hospital chaplain—warm tears streaking down her face, running her mascara little by little and leaving visible trails where her makeup is being washed away—and her heart shatters, if that's even possible now—for her heart froze and splintered into infinite shards on Valentine's night.
Robin braces herself as a gusty breeze whips around the small group of hospital staff gathered on the County General roof: some from surgery, some from psych, but most from the ER—Lucy's first Chicago home. This bitter wind slices and stabs Robin to her very core, which makes her wonder if this is one iota of what it felt like for Lucy...in that dark exam room...alone...waiting for someone, anyone to help her... Robin keeps her head down, knowing that her eyes will display everything that she doesn't want anyone else to see. She can feel the guilt uncoiling and tearing at her chest. With her macabre state of mind comes an undefinable coldness that chills every cell within her.
The past week has been a living hell for the young attending. Physically, she's here everyday, working, helping people, saving lives; but mentally, she's unreachable. Everyone in the ER can understand that, so they always try to bring her back—teasing, joking—but nothing, nothing touches her. She just goes along, going through the motions, but not really giving a damn. Sometimes it seems to take so long for her to take one step, say one word, lift one finger, take on breath. The gravity of her sadness—no, her depression—knows no end. She's become indifferent. She's so focused on hiding and running from everyone, including herself, that she doesn't realize she has nothing to run to, no one to anchor her, no one for whom she would abandon the shadows. The worst part is that no one close to her has any idea what happened to make her retreat inside of herself like this: so suddenly, so severely, and so permanently. The answer would seem clear enough to any stranger: Lucy's death; but no, this is something altogether unfamiliar for everyone involved—including Robin herself, or so she thinks.
And it's at this moment that Robin sees Mrs. Knight let out a gentle laugh at the thought of something Lucy told her about how bad the coffee could be on the Roach Coach. The older woman takes her eyes off of the paper in her gloved hands and looks at everyone before her, smiling widely, in a silent attempt to say, "It's okay to laugh." Collectively, they all feel as if they can breathe again, unaware that they haven't been able to until now.
Barbara's eyes connect with Robin's for a time that seems to last just a little longer than with everyone else.
Robin sees her nod a discreet reassurance in her direction—getting the "okay" to be joyful for Barbara's daughter's life. As a tear falls down her cheek, she smiles. For the first time in God knows how many days...she smiles. More tears escape as she fights her emotions, and watching Mrs. Knight look back to her short eulogy, she closes her eyes and lets them fall freely. After she takes a steadying breath, Robin realizes that the deathly cold she felt just moments ago has vanished—a glowing lovingness taking its place. Mrs. Knight's comforting words and silent consolation send her heart soaring, relieving some sort of burden from within her. Dave and Abby flanking her on either side, providing warmth and support. Robin imagines the sun, shining down on them, is Lucy's friendship; her love; her compassion.
But, most of all, her eternal grace.
I used to be my own protection
But not now
Cause my path had lost direction
Somehow
A black wind took you away
From sight
And held the darkness over day
That night
And the clouds above moved closer
Looking so dissatisfied
And the ground below grew colder
As they put you down inside
But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing
~ 6:14 p.m. ~
News, both local and the 24-hour networks; reruns of classic television shows; slightly creepy children's educational programming, which seems like it was created by a revamped team of Sid and Marty Krofft during a bad acid trip.
Carter can't find anything on TV worth watching, so he opts for the least annoying choice and flips over to TV Land. Suddenly, he hears a knock at his door and glances up to the clock. With a slight frown, he calls out, "Come in." He sees the door open about six inches and an arm slowly poke through wiggling a Styrofoam cup. This is all he needs to know who it is, and a smile grows on his face.
"Coooooontraaaaaabaaaaaand," Robin draws out a whisper, still waving the cup in the air.
A laugh escapes from Carter's throat, probably the first genuine laugh since last week when he was talking with Abby on the rooftop. In this split second, a searing bolt of pain ripples from his back and travels through every cell in his mending body—feeling every movement with the exaggerated clarity of pain. With a wince, he says, "I'll take anything ya got."
With this, Robin elbows the door open, holding a matching cup for herself. "Good," she grins and closes the door behind her with her foot, "'cause I payed for it."
"What did ya bring me?" he asks, scooting himself up a bit in the bed.
"Vanilla milkshake, what else?" she tells him, muffled by the straw sticking in the corner of her mouth. Setting the shake on his bedside table, her warm grin immediately vanishes as she watches him struggle for the briefest moment. "Let me help ya with the pillow—"
"No, it's okay," Carter cuts her off.
Knowing how stubborn he can be, Robin raises her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright," she says. She makes sure he gets comfortable—watching in silence, wishing he wouldn't put up such a brave front for everyone—before she pulls up a chair and sits, glancing at the TV. "Can't go wrong with Happy Days!"
He brings the milkshake up to his lips, pauses, and lets out a melancholic chuckle, "Nope," before taking a sip.
Both doctors are pondering the bitter irony of the show title with what happened last week. Memories and echoing voices play like movies in their heads.
"Change over to a .27 gauge needle," Carter instructed as he held Paul steady—one elbow hooked around his neck, and the other around the back of his knees, curling him into a fetal position.
"I always do," Lucy said. "Okay, I'm ready," she said, readying herself mentally.
Robin, standing at the foot of the bed, watched as Lucy pierced the skin with the needle near Paul's spine.
This, Robin thinks to herself, was the first red flag.
Paul reacted violently—his eyes opened wide, his head arching back as he thrashed on the bed.
"Whoa!" Carter called out to Malik for some kind of help, "Hold him! Hold him!"
"What do I do?" Lucy asked, miraculously keeping the needle in its place the entire time.
"Give yourself a moment," Robin told her softly as she tried to calm the hysterical man down from where she stood, placing a hand on top of his head and stroking his hair.
"What're you putting into me? Stop!" Paul pleaded as he fought for some kind of control over what he thought was happening to him.
"Paul, relax, it's okay! Just calm down!" Carter tried to soothe him, "Calm down, it's alright."
"What're you sticking in my back?" Paul asked—his voice awkwardly muffled by the bed sheets he had his face pressed against as he writhed around.
"Malik," Carter called, "give him another two of atavan. Lucy, keep goin'."
"It'll be a traumatic tap, we'll get blood in the spinal fluid," she countered.
"I don't think it's gonna get any easier," he said with a weak smile.
Lucy stoically pressed on, slowly inching the needle further. "Okay, I feel some resistance."
"Just keep advancing," Carter said, nodding in encouragement as he struggled to keep Paul as still as possible.
Lucy glanced at Robin, who did the same, and turned her focus back to the task at hand.
Robin watched Lucy for a moment, while still trying to calm Paul. "Keep the needle as straight as you can. There ya go," she grinned and nodded.
"Alright, I'm not getting any fluid," she said in frustration.
"Did you feel a pop?" Carter asked.
"No."
"Keep goin'," he nodded.
Lucy took a breath, struggling. "I can't."
"Yes, you can," he forced.
"You're doin' great, Luce," Robin encouraged, "you've got this."
"Stop, please!" Paul cried out, losing his energy a bit. "You're hurting me! Please, stop!"
"Check the stylet," Carter told her.
Drops of cerebrospinal fluid began to fill the collection tube Lucy held under the opening.
The three colleagues silently breathed a sigh of relief, and Carter tried to ease the sick man's troubled mind."Alright, we got it. Paul. Paul, just relax. Just relax. Just relax." He and Robin both examined the tube Lucy held up, and he smiled, "Hey, crystal clear. Good job."
"Well done, Lucy," Robin grinned, patting her young friend on the back as Lucy let out a heavy breath. "Well done."
They were so proud of her in that moment: staying as calm as she did throughout the entire ordeal; overcoming her insecurities; and following through to get the job done.
Robin had even planned to take them both out for a congratulatory drink later that night—something that seemed so commonplace, but looking back on it now, something she would give anything to experience.
"I lied to Lucy's mother today."
Carter's voice comes out somewhat muffled, and Robin looks over to see him staring at his blanket-covered feet with his straw flattened between his teeth. The two friends seem to be mirroring each other. Robin takes her straw away—her voice sounding both unaware of what he's just said and deeply distraught. "What?"
With a deep sigh, Carter places his shake on the bedside table and lets his hands fall to his lap. He stares blankly as he fidgets with his nails. "I told her that I didn't feel anything...that I was too surprised to realize what was happening to me..."
Robin watches him start to disappear into himself, his tone eerily distant. She nods and lowers her gaze slightly. "You wanted to protect her."
"Yeah..." Carter says, shaking his head. "But she knew."
"Of course she knew," Robin says with a trace of a smile, picturing Mrs. Knight crying quietly and accepting reality for what it was and still is. "She's her mother."
As a long silence passes between them—both having tuned out the sweet family dynamic of the Cunningham household—Carter's brows begin to furrow as a tinge of anger grows inside.
"How can you do that?" he asks. His voice is weak, but still agitated.
"Do what?"
Carter almost cuts her off. "How can you sit there and act like nothing happened? How can you be so calm and understanding? Like Lucy's not dead and buried—?"
"Okay, jus-just stop," Robin puts a hand up to keep him from talking. Her surprise gives way to irritation, and she reaches over to mute the TV. After settling back in her seat, she takes a breath and continues. "How can you sit there and think that you know me so well?"
Brown eyes meet hazel. Carter looks stricken with her question and is slightly taken aback at her barbed change. Her eyes were once easygoing, but now he sees something altogether different and frightening. Apathy.
Robin just sits and holds his gaze. "I know that you're hurting...physically...emotionally," she begins, "but don't you dare think for a second that you know what I'm feeling right now."
By the end of this, Carter knows he's touched a nerve: her eyes smolder with anger; her jaw muscles are set; her voice is gentle, and yet, it quivers with uncertainty.
"This isn't just about you and Lucy. We all lost someone that night, John, and we all got hurt... It may not be in the same way you two did, but we're in pain, too." Robin pauses momentarily—running a hand through her hair—before beginning again. "After that night, I didn't sleep for three days... When I finally did sleep, I dreamed that the two of us were standing on the roof... It must've been a little after dawn, because...the sun was startin' to rise in the distance... There were a few clouds, but other than that, it was absolutely perfect," she smiles weakly. "In the dream I knew she was dead, but I reached out for her and said, 'You're comin' back, right?' She smiled...but then, she shook her head... We stood there for a while, and I noticed this black wall outta the corner of my eye. When I looked over, the wall was speeding toward us and destroying everything it touched. I looked back to Lucy, but she wasn't even phased by it. All of a sudden, she stepped toward me and put her arms around my neck and shoulders. As we stood there hugging, the darkness was so close...but I didn't care anymore. I felt safe...protected...and even sure that things were gonna be alright..." Robin seems conflicted now, her brows furrow as she gently shakes her head and frowns. Her eyes begin to burn as she recalls, "The darkness started ripping the air away...out of my lungs, and Lucy and I started to disappear. Everything was bein' obliterated: buildings, water, air, the ground, and even the sun... The sheer inertia of this...thing...was indescribable. I could feel my flesh and bones being pulled apart...down to the very cell. But Lucy was there, and that was all that mattered. When we were both gone...that's when I woke up. The force of whatever that was in my dream shook me to my very core...
"And that's when I knew...I'm afraid. I'm afraid of him...of myself... I thought about killing myself a thousand different ways... I think about cutting myself, like I used to do in high school and college. I even dream about it," she admits, and then, shakes the thoughts away. "I wanna kill him. I wanna kill him for what he did to Lucy; for what he did to you; for what he did to all of us... I wanted to smack his wife when I saw her downstairs and say, 'You fuckin' bitch. You knew somethin' was wrong with him, but you didn't lift a damn finger to prevent any of this.'" Shaking her head incessantly, she takes a breath and realizes that she's on the verge of tears.
"It's my fault Lucy's dead..." Carter squeaks out.
"No. No, it's not—" Robin tells him. She sees him about to protest and calmly stops him. "We're all blameless...and we're all to blame... There were red flags goin' up everywhere, man.
"Mrs. Sobriki could've seen the signs that Paul was ill. She didn't. Lucy could've come to me or Mark when she couldn't get past your bullshit about patients piling up and you just bein' irritated with her for whatever reason. She didn't. Psych could've gotten their asses down there when Lucy called 'em the first time. They didn't.
"You could've actually listened to your med student like you were supposed to. You could've guided, encouraged, and taught her—case in point, the LP you helped her through—but you avoided her like the fuckin' plague the entire shift and spent all your time mentoring Abby. You could've been the mentor Lucy needed that night. You weren't."
Robin stops, knowing that she's focused all of her harsh criticism on Carter so far. Now, she decides to go for the jugular: herself. "I could've been more attentive to the situation. I could've checked on her progress more often. I could've helped you manage your patient load more easily... I could've pulled you both aside to help settle whatever your problems were... I should—" she suddenly realizes her choice of words are changing, but she shakes her head and powers through. "I should've gone up to Psych and dragged DeRadd down myself... I should've done something about the feeling I had after the tap... I knew somethin' wasn't right...I could feel it... I should've seen. I should've felt. I should've heard. I should've taken the time. I should've known..." Robin's eyes are clamped shut, but tears escape despite the fact. Her brows are knotted. She shakes her head, not stopping, as she pictures everything that transpired and everything that could have been. After a short time, she lets out a breath, opens her eyes, and stares down at her hands. "I should've been there for the two of you...and for the Sobrikis... I should've done my job," she confesses, looking up to Carter's apologetic, tear-filled eyes. "I didn't...and I'm so sorry for that, John."
Her eyes manage to convey support, admiration, sympathy, friendship, and encouragement without saying another word.
The two long-time friends sit in silence, their cheeks stained with tears of regret and forgiveness. They haven't really had the opportunity to talk about what's happened with each other until this moment...even though it was Robin who's done most of the talking. Carter doesn't mind though, because she actually said everything he wanted to express.
"It's not your fault either," he says, exhaustion lacing his quiet, forgiving words. He's tremendously grateful that his mentor has taken the pain of making his worries and insecurities known from off of his strained shoulders.
Robin gives him a small, unsure grin at his kind words. Her thoughts go back to that night, right after the spinal tap, when she wanted to take her two young colleagues out for a small celebration.
"What?" Carter questions with a quirky smirk as he watches Robin let out a silent laugh at something.
"Y'know..." she starts off, "I was gonna take you two out for some drinks that night. You were a great teacher in that room. You saw that she was struggling, and you encouraged her to stick it out and get the job done... You were a team, and you got through it together... I'm proud of both of you..." Robin clears her throat quickly, adding, "And I wouldn't mind seeing more teaching like that in the future!"
Carter smiles at the memory, picking up his milkshake and holding it up ever so slightly—watching Robin follow his cue. "Since these are the only drinks we have, we'll have to make due," he giggles. His mood becomes woeful and tormented in the blink of an eye. "Lucy,...I told your mother today that you were better than I ever gave you credit for... I meant every word that I said... I just wish I could've let you know sooner... You were smart, funny, passionate...courageous, relentless...and beautiful..." he sighs—a sighing which tells only of despair's profoundest depths. Robin grins as he continues. "You had the most beautiful heart and soul I'd ever known... There was something about you that...everyone felt, and saw...and drifted toward... You were all those things and more...and you will always be." He looks to Robin as a tear trickles down his face; and with a warm smile and a nod, he concludes, "To Lucy... We love you...and we miss you."
As a tear of her own drops and soaks into her shirt, Robin draws in a deep breath while she reaches over and taps her Styrofoam cup lightly against Carter's.
For a fleeting second, her mind plagues her with flashbacks of that night; but it's the blood that makes her heart sink. From her two dear friends it kept flowing, as if to taunt her. "I don't think so, Dr. Shepherd. You can't save them. Neither can you save yourself."
She settles back, and finally, she feels as though she can breathe again, barely whispering, "We love you, Lucy."
So now you're gone
And I was wrong
I never knew what it was like
To be alone
On a Valentine's Day
On a Valentine's Day
On a Valentine's Day
On a Valentine's Day
On a Valentine's Day (I used to be my own protection)
On a Valentine's Day (But not now)
On a Valentine's Day (Cause my mind had lost direction)
On a Valentine's Day (Somehow)
On a Valentine's Day (I used to be my own protection)
On a Valentine's Day (But not now)
On a Valentine's Day (Cause my mind has lost direction)
On a Valentine's Day (Somehow)
The song in bold is Linkin Park's "Valentine's Day." The first time I listened to it, it made me cry because of what happened on ER. If you haven't heard it, I strongly suggest you listen to it. Great song! Every second I was writing this story, I played this song over and over on repeat (even as I'm writing this)!
Like I said, let me know if you want something else from me! Thank you all for reading/reviewing/favoriting/alerting this story. I would love it if you sent me a little review after you read this. Let me know what you liked, didn't like, and so on! Love you all!
Alright! Show me some love! 3