This is my take on the 'Going Fourth' challenge issued by Michelle recently on a.t.e.c. Yeah, I know, I'm behind I'm also assuming after a discussion on the Kerry list that Americans call the ground floor, the first floor. So the first floor for us is the second floor in the US. Spoiler warning. This has very serious spoilers for the 5th Season right through to the latest eppy, so anyone not wanting to be spoiled turn around now :) GOING FOURTH.......... By Missy Kerry was grateful that there was no one else waiting for the elevator. The area was unusually devoid of patients, workers and visitors, much to her relief. The white upward arrow above the lift lit up as the doors slid open. Avoiding any eye contact, she allowed the occupants to leave the elevator before she entered. As she passed the control panel, she hit the button for the top floor before leaning back against the rear wall. Closing her eyes, she waited for the doors to close on the ER she knew so well. The ER had a security for her that she held dearly. The reliability of Doug and herself to go head to head at least once a day, no matter whether the issue was big or small; for Mark to be behind on his administration reports or Jerry to be running a scam of some kind. These were things that were stable in her professional life, things she relied on being the same and while she sometimes wished they didn't cause her headaches, there was a part of her that would miss them if they weren't there. Then there was her private life, one which had been secure but which had been turned upside down with one simple action. "Hold the elevator!" Doug's voice broke through her reverie. In a daze, Kerry slowly went through the motions to keep the doors open, inwardly praying that they would close before Doug had a chance to get on. Her finger had just hit the button as the doors were about to close, postponing them mid-flight and Doug slipped in passed her, giving her a grateful smile. "You should get that lac seen to." Doug commented gruffly, referring to the jagged cut across the left side of her forehead. Kerry nodded her head in response, not trusting herself to answer him verbally. This was the reason she had wanted to have the elevator to herself. The lift doors closed on the ER sealing her fate. Hitting the button for the fourth floor, Doug noticed Kerry shrink back to the rear of the elevator. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rolled his neck, trying to ease the tension after a long and busy day in the paedes clinic. Glancing over his shoulder, he was surprised to find Kerry leaning against the wall, head downcast and tears rolling down her face. He quickly looked back to the front of the lift, a frozen expression on his face. If it had been anyone other than Kerry, he would have been beside them in two strides, a comforting arm placed on their shoulder. However, it was Kerry and he didn't feel that such a gesture would be accepted by her. His compassion got the better of him and he found himself beside her, grudgingly holding out a handkerchief for her. "How's your Mom?" Kerry shrugged her shoulders. "If you can call her that. I don't know her any better than I would any other patient that walks through the door." It all tumbled out before she even realised she had given an answer totally unrelated to his question. "Critical." "What are you going to do now?" Doug couldn't believe the question had slipped out of his mouth. This was probably one of the most civil conversations between the two of them and he had Kerry in tears. But the evening had shocked a lot of the ER staff that night. It had started when Kerry had rushed into the ER with the paramedics, a middle-aged woman on the guerney between them. Kerry gave them the bullet, keeping everything very professional and surprised them all when she said that the woman was her mother. Apparently, they had been driving to dinner and a drunk drove through a red light, side swiping the car. Her mother had massive chest and facial injuries after being thrown into the steering wheel when the airbag failed to inflate upon impact. Mark had asked for her mother's medical history and had been surprised when Kerry had said she had no idea. At his quizzical look, she had responded with the fact that she was adopted and this was the first night she had met her birth mother. "I... don't.... know." The words were punctuated as Kerry tried to control her tears but they kept coming and she sank to the floor. In the three hours since the accident, she had been able to push aside all her emotions, allowing her to concentrate on the medical aspects of her mother's condition. She had been hoping to escape to the roof from the sidelong glances and whispered gossip, giving herself time to compose herself. She had learned from a young age the value of being able to look after yourself, taking solace from the teasing that had been an intricate part of her early school years. Doug was concerned at Kerry's outburst of tears. He was used to the verbal onslaught but the way she had collapsed into a small ball, silent tears racking her body, worried him. The elevator was slowing and the doors slid open at the second floor. One sharp look from Doug combined with a shake of his head gave the message and the doors shut once more leaving them alone again. Gently he slid down beside Kerry, the length of his body touching hers lightly, a small reassurance to her that he was there for her. "You should go and sit with your Mom." Doug said softly, looking down at the crown of Kerry's bent head. He gave a slight shrug as there was no response, his eyebrows raised and his eyes conveying that he didn't know what else he could say without upsetting her more. Slowly she turned her head sideways slightly, just enough for her to cast a glance in his direction. "What am I going to say? I have so many questions for her yet no answers. And now I may not ever get any. All that goes around in my mind is why did you give me up for adoption? My parents....that is, my adoptive parents.... they could never tell me. Or wouldn't. I don't know. They didn't think I even needed to know I was adopted." There was a derision in Kerry's voice as her mouth twisted angrily at the thought. "You know how I found out I was adopted?" Doug didn't answer, knowing it was a rhetorical question, not in need of an answer. Kerry would answer it for him. "When I was fifteen, my chemistry class was doing blood groups and we all did tests for our blood groups. Mine came up as AB. I went home that night and it was meant to be a good test for me on guessing my Mom and Dad's blood groups. Mom didn't realise the implications of my test but my Dad did. He knew that two O positive parents could not produce an AB negative child. It was that night that I found out I was adopted. It turned the world I knew upside down and the nightmares returned once again." "What sort of nightmares?" "That's the thing I was hoping my birth Mom might be able to answer. It's a lot of images. I can feel the anger, the fear, the danger and the pain but I don't know why. I get so close and each time I think I've got hold of the image, that I'm going to know what is causing all that fear, it just disappears." Kerry's hands were tightly clenched on Doug's handkerchief as twisted it in frustration. "Ker, I'm not the best person to speak on family relationships but I do know that if you don't go and sit with your Mom, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. Your mother may pull through and you may find out the answers to your questions. But if she doesn't, at least you've had a chance to be with her at the end." Once again, the elevator began slowing and stopped. The doors slid open at the fourth floor, waiting for Doug to exit. "Isn't this your floor?" Kerry asked, giving him a grateful smile. "Yeah." Doug eased himself to his feet. Leaning over he held out his hand for Kerry to use to pull herself to her feet. Grabbing hold, she pulled herself up to face him and their eyes met, each seeing the other in a new light. Pulling the handkerchief from her hands, he gently probbed the laceration on her head. "How about you come back to the ER and I suture this lac for you and then you can go sit with your Mom. You don't need to scare her totally when she comes around." Doug gave a small smile, his eyebrows raised questioningly, encouraging her to accept his offer. A small nod of acknowledgement and an answering smile accepted his offer. He hit the button back to the ER, a journey of companionable silence and there were surprised looks as they headed to the suture room together. The End. And I do know it was a very long journey between the first floor and the fourth but it's called poetic licence.