911
By Chris Owen
Part One
Chapter One
It wasn't that
Drew hated hospitals, in fact he rather liked them. They were
busy and bustling, and he spent enough time in them he understood
that all the bodies and noises were part of large, organized
mass of effort to make people healthy.
He just wasn't fond
of spending time in them as a patient.
He looked around
the triage area, not even able to see Dave as a curtain had
them separated from each other. "Hey," he said in
a voice slightly louder than conversational level.
"Hey yourself,"
he got back, Dave sounding surly.
"How much longer,
do you think?" Drew asked, knowing full well that Dave
wouldn't have any more idea than he did.
"Dunno. The
doctor said they just wanted to keep an eye on us for a bit."
Drew sighed and
Dave fell silent behind the curtain. That was the rub of it--there
wasn't even anything wrong with them. They'd just been in the
wrong place at the wrong time, depending on how one looked at
it. Drew was looking at it from the perspective of a fireman
just doing his job, clearing a warehouse that had gone up, and
suddenly being confronted with large barrels with a hazardous
material sign on them.
They hadn't known
the barrels were there, nor what was in them. They'd evacuated,
the chief had gone ballistic on the owners for improperly storing
god knows what, and the whole team had been trooped down the
hospital to get checked out.
"They didn't
even blow," Drew said for the fourth time in three hours.
"Yeah, yeah.
And we'll be let go as soon as the doctor's confirm we're fine."
Drew snorted. He
was fine, and if he wasn't, sitting in an open triage unit wasn't
going to help any. "What do you think of that Dr. Campbell?"
he asked. "Kind of young, yeah?"
Dave growled. "I'm
sure he knows exactly what he's doing. And he's probably your
age--not exactly a spring chicken."
"Hey,"
Drew protested. "I'm not even thirty yet, old man."
"Forty ain't
old, and shut up. The doctor is fine. We're fine. And any minute
now, that kid of a doctor is going to show up and tell us we
can leave."
Drew grumbled a
minute or two and let silence reign again. Dave was pissy. Drew
was pissy. He thought about Dr, Campbell for a couple of minutes,
and aside from deciding the man was really cute, he couldn't
come up with anything else. "Call Vicki Lynn?" he
asked finally.
"Yeah, soon
as they let me have a phone. She's not real happy. Worried,
you know?"
"Of course."
He didn't have a phone. The fact that he hadn't asked for one
didn't really make a difference in his mind. Damn hospitals.
He sighed again.
"Will you stop
that?' Dave said irritably. "Sound like a dying cow."
"Oh, shut up,"
Drew said mildly.
"This keeping
you from something?' Dave went on, poking at him. "Big
date?'
"Right, I always
schedule my big dates for two in the afternoon. Easier to get
reservations that way."
The curtain pulled
back suddenly and the doctor was standing between the two beds,
clipboard in hand. "Not a bad plan," the doctor said
with a smile. "Have to date someone who works shifts, though."
Drew winked. "That's
the only kind of people I know, Doc."
"Shut up and
let the man talk, Smyth." Dave glared at him before turning
pathetically hopeful eyes on the young doctor. "We sprung?"
"Well, yes
and no."
Dave and Drew both
groaned.
The doctor held
up his hand in what Drew assumed was supposed to be a placating
manner. "Now, now. Protocol, gentlemen. I've talked to
your chief. The barrels have been confirmed to be empty, and
you both check out as fine for that, obviously. We did the standard
oxygen tests too, just because you'd been in an smoke filled
environment, and all is well there, too." He pointed to
Dave. "You can go as soon as you get your boots on."
Dave beamed. "Thanks,
see ya, and I'm outta here," he said, swinging his legs
over the side of the bed. He paused. "What about Drew?"
"Ah, that's
the other thing."
Dave looked at him
with worried eyes and Drew groaned. He was going to wind up
with Vicky Lynn at his house mothering him, he just knew it.
Dr. Campbell shook
his head. "Nothing dire, the lab's just taking longer with
your blood work. As soon as they call up, you'll be free to
go."
Drew rolled his
eyes, but Dave looked relieved. "Aw, you care," Drew
said with a grin. "Say hi to Vicky Lynn for me."
"Will."
Dave pulled on his boots and grabbed his coat. "See you
tomorrow, Drew."
"Later, man."
He watched Dave
practically run out of the triage area and shook his head. "His
wife is going to be pretty happy to have him home," he
said to the doctor, just to keep the man there for a couple
more minutes.
He was really cute.
Dr. Campbell smiled
at him, nodding. "I bet." He glanced around, still
holding onto his clipboard, and added, "Do you need to
call anyone? Tell your hot date you're still here?" His
eyes were teasing, and the smile had become something closer
to a grin.
Drew grinned back
and shook his head. "No one like that to call," he
said, meeting the doctor's eyes. Testing the waters.
But the doctor just
nodded and took a step back. "Okay then. I'll let you know
as soon as I hear from the lab."
Drew gave himself
a mental whap on the head and nodded back. "Sure thing,
Doc."
Dr. Campbell left,
and Drew sighed. He really didn't like hospitals all that much.
He looked around him and counted the various boxes of things
he could see, then he counted the IV stands along the wall by
the nurse's station. He looked up at the ceiling tiles and then
over at Dave's empty bed.
"Ah shit,"
he groaned, catching sight of his coat and shoes. One of the
guys had brought his stuff by and taken his equipment back to
the station, but he was stuck without his car, and with Dave
gone, without a ride home. He closed his eyes and leaned back
on his plastic covered pillow, feeling altogether annoyed with
the world.
"You okay?"
a voice asked, and cool fingers took his wrist, seeking his
pulse.
"Yeah, I'm
fine," he said, opening his eyes to look at Dr. Campbell
again. He didn't take his hand back, choosing instead to just
let the man touch him. "I'm pathetic," he said to
himself, watching the doctor feel up his wrist.
"Oh, I wouldn't
say that," the doctor disagreed, looking at his watch.
"You're fine."
Drew smirked and
turned it into a grin before the doctor could see. "No,
I'm without a way home, is all. Guess I'll have to walk--or
find a cab I suppose." He pulled a face, knowing how hard
that would be.
"Yeah?"
The doctor gave him a glance and then let go of his wrist. "Where
do you live?" he asked, picking up Drew's chart again.
"Oh, that's not far. What, about a five minute drive from
here?"
Drew nodded. "Yeah.
The walk'll do me good."
"Well, it won't
kill you, anyway. But I can give you a lift, if you want. The
lab called, and my shift is done. Just have to do about five
minutes of paperwork--the rest can wait until I get back."
Dr. Campbell gave him a quick smile. "It's no trouble."
"Yeah?"
Drew hoped he didn't look as surprised as he felt. "That
would be great, thanks."
"No trouble,"
Dr. Campbell repeated. "Get your stuff together, I'll be
back in a few."
Drew watched the
doctor walking away and shook his head, smiling as he reached
for his shoes. He figured it was just a strange day all around.
~*~*~
"This is it,"
Drew said, pointing to his house. "Thanks, Doc."
"Scott."
Drew grinned, waiting
until the man had pulled into his driveway before offering his
hand. "Drew. Thanks, Scott."
Scott just smiled
at him, putting the car in park.
"Want to come
in?" Drew asked on impulse. "Think there's some beer."
Scott blinked and
then said, "Sure, that'd be nice. Thanks."
Drew smiled and
opened his door. "Come on, then." He led the way to
the side door in the garage, letting them into the kitchen.
"Hey, it's not even a mess, yay me."
Scott laughed, taking
off his shoes. "It's nice," he said, looking around
the kitchen.
"It's a good
house," Drew agreed, tossing his jacket over a chair and
going to the fridge. "Let me show you around," he
said, passing Scott a beer. He took the man through to the living
room, toeing a magazine under the couch. "I bought it a
couple of years ago, and it's worked out well. Close to the
station, nice quiet neighborhood. Just three bedroom, but I
don't need more than that--no dining room or second family
room or anything like that. Just a nice little bungalow, you
know?"
"It's great,"
Scott said. "Are all three bedrooms upstairs?"
"Yep. Come
see," Drew invited, walking down the hall. "This one
is storage," he said, pushing open a door on his right.
"The next one is... well, storage as well. My room's
on the left, and the bathroom's at the end. Nice and neat, no
muss, no fuss. I was going to rip out all the crap carpeting
this spring, but property taxes went up, so instead I get to
find a roommate just to cover it."
"You live alone?"
Scott seemed impressed as they walked back to the kitchen. "Oh,
backyard too. Wow, that's nice. Like the flowers."
Drew pulled a face.
"The flowers are my mom's doing. At least it's just wild
flower seed, and easy to maintain. No freaking if a week winds
up in the roses or anything."
"It looks nice,"
Scott said again. He leaned on the counter and looked around
the kitchen, licking his lower lip before he lifted his beer
bottle and took a drink. "Um. You serious about needing
a roommate?"
Drew gave the doctor
a long look. "Yeah. Hadn't really started looking, figured
it would be pretty easy--just let the word out at work.
Between the firefighters and the EMTs there's a lot of people
working shifts, and that's important. Need someone who gets
that I sleep at weird hours."
Scott nodded and
put his bottle down. "Well, I'm doing my residency. Means
long hours at the hospital and lots of studying when I'm home.
Right now I'm going to my parents to sleep and shower, but it's
a ways to drive, and it's... well, it's living with my parents.
I'm interested."
Drew grinned. "Sounds
okay to me. So long as you don't bring every girl you date home
or have wild parties."
Scott snorted. "No
time for parties, and the girl thing is a non-issue."
"Me too."
They looked at each
other carefully for a long moment and Drew just waited, not
sure if they were going to spell it out or not.
"I'm not out
at work," Scott finally said.
Drew nodded. "I
don't hide it, but I'd be surprised if more than a handful have
it figured out. Seeing anyone?"
Scott shook his
head. "You?"
"Nope. Still
interesting in moving in?" It could change things, both
of them single. Drew was willing to admit that he was attracted
to Scott, and that could make things weird.
Scott thought about
it for a minute. "Yeah. I am."
"All right
then." Drew pulled out a chair and sat down. "Let's
talk about it, then. Figure out the utilities and stuff and
find out what I want for rent." He grinned. "I really
hadn't put much thought into this."
Scott came to the
table and sat down, grinning as well. "We'll sort it."
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