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Ah but don't go home with your hard-on
It will only drive you insane
You can't shake it (or break it) with your Motown
You can't melt it down in the rain
Leonard Cohen - "Don't go home with your hard-on"
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"Dave wait!!!!" Elizabeth yelled, chasing him down in the halls of County. "Please, Dave.. Please... I.. We need to talk." She swallowed, panting as she leaned up against the wall, Dave a few hundred feet ahead of her. "Please.. Wait.."
"We don't have anything to talk about. You punched me, we kissed. I kiss Deb, she punches me. You kiss me, call me Mark.. I think everything's perfectly clear.. Don't you!?" He snapped, his chest heaving. What was with this woman?
"Please... An exam room, my car.. Somewhere private.. I don't want to do it in the halls.." She pleaded, looking around at people who were stopping what they were doing, and staring.
"Why? So County doesn't know you kissed a total waste of human existence? I mean. I know.. You told me I was a lousy doctor.. You basically told me I was a lousy excuse for a human being. But please.. Please tell me I'm not a lousy kisser. At least let me have that luxury." Dave snarled almost tearfully.
"No... The kiss was wonderful, Dave.." Elizabeth said quietly, watching as people stared, snickered, giggled, took notes...
"Oooooooh wowie! Elizabeth Corday says I kiss good! Wow! Now I can die happy!" Dave crowed sarcastically. "I don't need your pity." "and I don't need yours, Malucci." Elizabeth snapped angrily. "Just because my husband died, doesn't mean you can go around being nice to me. You never had been up to this point."
"Who says I'm being, nice? You arrogant, flighty, British bitch!" Dave growled. "All I did was put some fucking flowers on the asshole's grave and you're the one who got in my face. I was just paying respects."
"PAYING RESPECTS!??" Elizabeth screeched, willing herself to stand there and not lunge at his throat. "You little bastard. You made a mockery of my husband's death, being at his funeral. You didn't know him. You didn't take the time to know him. What gave you the right to be there in the first place!?"
"Oh and like he took the time to know me?! Everyone just assumes. Everyone just thinks they know Malucci.. You just figure I'm the goof off asshole. Nobody ever took the time to know me. I know none of you would show up at my funeral. Why would you!? You guys all made it clear I wasn't welcome here at County. The only guy around here that even gives me the time of day is Carter, and I haven't talked to that rich bastard in weeks really. Except for "Four Units of O-Neg, Stat!' and that really isn't meaningful conversation. You know?"
"Well maybe if you didn't make assumptions about people all the time." Elizabeth said resignedly. "We're not as bad as we seem."
"Oh... and like you haven't made assumptions about me. Except for out in that alley-way there, and getting to know how many fillings I have. Have you tried to get to know me. Or is it just barking at me in the hall? Do you know my middle name? My favourite beer? Where I live?"
"I..." Elizabeth sighed. "You probably don't know any of that about me." She shot back.
"Your middle name is Isabelle. After your mother. Your favourite beer is Guinness and you live at 1211 Dupont Drive." Dave said quietly. "I do pay attention. I'm not a total genepool write-off."
"Dave... I.." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of this. Mark's death isn't your fault. I'm sorry I've treated you like it was."
"What? You've been blaming me!? How in the hell is it my fault!?" He bellowed angrily. What in the fuck was this woman's problem?!
"I.. I said I was sorry.. That it wasn't your fault.. W-why can't we just drop it?" Elizabeth said tearfully, her hands starting to shake.
"NO.. Tell me.. Why is Mark's death my fault??" Dave said quietly. The hall was filled with people now.. Getting their soap-opera drama fix for the day. He winced, wondering if there'd be sappy violin music playing any second now.
"You were always testing him.. Testing his patience.. Getting him stressed out after his first surgery. He was always a little on edge.. You made him more so.. That's all." She sighed.
"I made him testy!? Are you fucking kidding me!? The guy was fucking bonkers by the end, lady.. He used to get testy over the fact that the tongue depressors were put in the containers the wrong way. He made himself testy, he was always wound waaay too tightly even before the tumour. So if he got a little more aggravated, that's not my fault. He was like that. Dr.Greene was always like that. How could I have changed the fact that he got pissed when Carter'd drink the last Coke and blame me?" Dave sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair.
"I... I told you.. I said it wasn't your fault. I was just looking for someone to blame.. It's nobody's fault, Dave." Elizabeth said tiredly.
"Ohh, and as far as it goes for me causing shit.. Apparently that Doug Ross guy caused a lot of it, when he worked here... Punching out Dads, fucking nurses in the closets. How come he got away with shit like that, and I can't?? Because I wasn't Greene's best buddy? Doesn't sound like they were best buddies.. I mean he didn't even come around when Greene was first diagnosed. Sounds like a great friend." Dave muttered sarcastically. People were pulling up chairs now, bringing out bags of microwave popcorn.
"You shut up! You don't know anything about Doug Ross. There is a reason he's not working here anymore. He did pull one too many stunts.. He outlived his chances for redemption." Elizabeth said angrily. This was getting to be too much. She didn't want to be discussing this in the halls. "If we could just go and talk somewhere else.."
"NO! I know what the guy did.. Sounds pretty stupid to me.. Giving the PCA codes to the mother. I mean that's pretty dumb. The kid was gonna die anyway.. Why put your ass out on the line for a few less hours of suffering. I mean the kid was toast." Dave snapped. This woman was unbelievable.
"That's why Doug Ross was a good doctor, and you're not, Malucci.. You have to think about the patients.. Not the score card. Ricky was suffering needlessly. He was dying, and his mum upped the medication so he wasn't feeling any pain. Joi just upped the dosage." Elizabeth said quietly, people stared, some with teary expressions. She sighed, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She wouldn't cry in front of all these people.
"She killed her son, and Ross helped her. It would have been easier on everybody if he'd just handed her a pillow. No fault on his part. She had the choice of putting it under his head to ease his breathing, or over his face to end it all." Dave grunted.
"Joi had a choice. She had the codes. She didn't have to use them. We all make choices, Malucci. You made a choice to fuck the paramedic in the ambulance, you made a choice in that trauma room with the Marfan's case. Ross paid dearly for her choice, and you're still standing here. How fair is that?"