******
"Dave... We're going to take you upstairs now.. You've got some possible internal injuries to your spleen and liver and we want to get it checked out. Everything will be fine though Dave.." Kerry looked at the monitors and nodded to Eddie from Transport, who finally had decided to show up.
"Nice to see you found time to join us Edward.." She growled under her breath and helped him push Dave to the elevators.
"Chief..." Dave muttered quietly, pulling at his nasal canula. "Chief..
Hey...."
Kerry smiled softly and reinserted the canula and checked the chest-tube again. "It's okay Dave... Everything is going to be okay.. Don't worry.. Relax a little.. You know you're in the care of the best surgeons in Chicago."
He swallowed and nodded slightly, "Uh huh... I..." Kerry shook her head. "Quiet Dave..." Dave yawned and closed his eyes.
The doors hushed open to reveal the surgical floor and Benton waiting. "This is the abdomen? Weaver.. Are you pulling my leg?? It's not April first anymore. I have ACTUAL cases backing up on the board.."
Weaver glared at him and helped push the gurney to the OR. "It's Malucci.. He was found concussed and bleeding to death outside the fairgrounds.. He's a surgical case Peter.. Elizabeth stitched him up a bit downstairs, but he's got some internal bleeding we could only fix momentarily. Be careful with him Benton.. He's one of our own.."
Benton rolled his eyes, Malucci? One of their own? That man was as irritating as a dingleberry. "Of course.." He muttered irritably letting the doors swing closed. "This is as close as you come, Weaver.. This is my turf."
Kerry Weaver's eyes narrowed to slits and she contemplated cold-cocking Benton upside his head with her cane. Her knuckles whitened around the grip and she turned sharply to the elevator. She had to make a statement to the police. It wasn't every day a colleague was brought in almost dead and clinging to life, screaming about clowns.
**
"Dave.. Are you allergic to anything??" Babcock sighed and flipped through Dr.Malucci's chart. Dave shook his head slowly.
"No.. Not allergic.." Mumbled Dave.. His stomach was starting to ache, Dave pulled at his gown and the anesthesiologist moved his hand away.
"Stop it David.. Listen to me."
"Have any history of subendocardial ischaemia or liver disease??" Droned Babcock, ticking off his checklist.
"No... No liver d-disease.. Or Heart disease.. I'm fine.." Muttered Dave irritably. Why wasn't he allowed to look under his gown? It wasn't like he hadn't stared in the mirror at himself before.. It wasn't anything he wasn't fairly familiar with. He just wanted to see why in the hell his gut ached so much.
"Well then. I think we can proceed. The anethesia I was planning to use seems to be okay. Have any problems with Isoflurane??"
Dave sighed. "No.. I.. I just want to go home.. I want to get away from the clowns.."
Babcock's eyebrows went up and he glanced into the sinks where Benton was scrubbing in. "Well Dave.. We have to tinker around a bit first.. Then you can go home.."
The anethesiologist fiddled with some knobs on the canisters and connected the various leads.. "It's a solution of 2% of Isoflurane with a mixture of oxygen and nitrous oxide. The Isoflurane will be reduced to .5% after surgery. See you when you wake up David.."
He placed a mask over Dave's face and Dave closed his eyes and started to breathe in. It smelled of new plastic and burnt sugar and he started to fell heavy and leaden.
When he opened his eyes, Cindy was staring down at him.
***
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaave" Cindy's disembodied head bobbed eerily over top of him, her long flowing blonde hair, matted and tangled with her blood and grasped firmly in a gloved hand. Dave screamed hoarsely. Everything ached again.. His legs.. His head.. His stomach.. He glanced down and gasped. That's what they hadn't wanted him to see in the trauma room. What about his legs?? Dave had heard them snap when the clowns bit through them like match sticks. Would Benton get a little too overboard and amputate his legs off at the knees?
He didn't want to think about it. He winced and watched Cindy's dead eyes, glassy and dull, her face was still tearstained and her mouth frozen in an expression of horror, pain and fear. Blood trickled from the open wounds on her face and Dave looked away in revulsion. "Get that away from me.." said Dave tremulously, vomit rising in his mangled throat.