Chapters 1-18 by You're out of your vulcan mind
Chapters 19+ by Mara-DragonMaster
The first thing Edward noticed when he opened the closet door, his breath stinking of alcohol, was that his blond doctor was very pale. The second was that he wasn't moving. Didn't even respond to the drunken yet forceful nudge to the stomach with the toe of a shoe. Bending closer, he realized that Chase didn't appear to breathing. Fumbling around with the pale wrists in a clumsy fashion, Edward couldn't find a pulse, and in horror he dropped the limp arm.
"Oh no–" He moaned, his words slurring. "I killed him."
The sound of a shovel hitting the nearly frozen ground disturbed the chill calm of the day. It was early Saturday morning. Nobody was supposed to be up and about yet.
But there were Saturday morning cartoons to watch and former obsessions to bury.
Two young boys were, as quietly as possible, fixing their ritual Saturday morning bowl of highly sugared chocolate covered cereal that went with the watching of mindless animals blowing things up. Partway through pouring milk on the sugary goodness, they froze when they heard a steady thumping outside. Glancing at each other they crept to the window and knelt down, pulling a corner of the curtain aside. As they peeked out the window they saw 'Crazy Mr. Anderson' digging in his backyard. Next to him was something long, all wrapped up in trash bags.
The boys looked at each other with wide, horrified eyes. Sam and James had seen horror movies. They knew what was in those bags.
They bolted up the stairs, gasping in fear. "MOM!! DAD!!" They screamed as they ran up to their parents' room.
Muttered words and mumbles were heard and their mother opened the door, disheveled and still half asleep. "What is it?" she asked, looking at them with one eye cracked open.
"Mom! Mr. Anderson is burying a body in his backyard!" James exclaimed.
Their father muttered something about letting those boys watch too much TV. Their mom sighed. "Boys…"
"MOM, we're serious. Look." Sam pointed, and he and James grabbed their tired mother's hand and pulled her to the window.
"Please. Jim, Sam, you really need to learn–" She stopped mid sentence when she looked out of the hall window and saw Mr. Anderson burying something in his back yard– something that looked suspiciously like– "Oh my gosh." She muttered, and called over her shoulder. "Honey, I think you should see this."
"For Pete's sake woman… It's five-thirty and you want me to spy on my neighbors?"
Mr. Anderson started to pull whatever was wrapped in the trash bags into the hole; the way it limply dropped over the hole's edge– She felt her heart leap into her throat. "I think we should call the cops."
The boys' father muttered as he pulled himself out of bed and made his way to his wife's side. He immediately frowned at what he saw. "Ah… yeah. Yeah we should."
He was being crushed… smothered. Chase struggled against the black plastic that wrapped around him, but it felt as if the weight of the earth was pressing down on him. Clawing with cold-numbed fingers he soon discovered that it was the weight of the earth pressing against him as the plastic finally tore and dirt hit his face. Blind with panic he continued clawing upwards. He was lucky it had been so cold last night. The ground had been frozen, making it difficult to dig deep, or pack the dirt back down. All that didn't matter as Chase started to run out of air. His vision started to gray around the edges; he felt so… tired… His hands were still clawing at the dirt above him, hard clumps of dirt that hurt his fingernails. And suddenly his left hand felt a breeze, a cool refreshing breeze. But… he was so… so tired… He had to sleep… He couldn't…
As he drifted off he became aware of a voice. Angels? No… angels didn't sound like Detective Tritter. And demons would never sound like Tritter panicking. That voice… too bad to be one, too good to be another…
Eloise smiled at the nurse at the front desk, gripping her resignation letter tightly in her hand. It was early yet. The boss was not in. Out of sight of the nurses and staff she slipped into his darkened office and strode purposefully to his desk. She set the envelope on top of the chair; there. Now it was official. She only had two weeks left. No more dealing with Dr. Steward; no more dealing with those stupid gossiping nurses. She sighed with relief, leaving the office and entering the brightly lit hall. After a year she could finally move on. Thank you, Dr. Chase, she whispered in her head. I owe you one.
Her pager went off, shaking her from her musings. Trauma patient, ER. She took off in a dead run.
"He's not breathing!" One of the nurses shouted.
Eloise skidded into the room, her eyes instantly taking in the scene before her. "Move." She checked his airway; his face was covered with bruises and blood dirt. "We need to intubate."
"His internal body temperature is way too low. He's in hypothermic shock."
"It's keeping him from bleeding out; the blood's frozen over the wounds."
"Close up those wounds now. He'll be heating back up soon."
"He's breathing on his own. You can take that tube out."
"Why the heck is there so much dirt?"
"Aw– oh my g… What on earth happened to this guy?"
They eventually got the patient stable. Blunt force trauma to the head and abdomen. Stab wounds. The patient had been beaten repeatedly, gone into hypothermic shock and then buried. Leaning against a counter Eloise took a deep breath, savoring the brief moment of respite. The patient's file was next to her, so she picked it up and looked at it. What it said made her press her lips together and give her head a small, sad shake. Who would do that to another person? She realized that she didn't even know who the victim was. It wasn't on the report, and there hadn't been any form of identification on him when he'd been found. She hadn't even really looked at his face. She'd been too busy with the rest of his body.
The nurse was busy sponging the dirt and blood from his face. She looked tired; Eloise remembered that she had worked all night. Her shift was supposed to have ended several hours ago.
Setting down the report Eloise straightened up and stepped over. "Here. I'll finish that." She said quietly. "Why don't you take a break?"
The nurse smiled gratefully. "Thanks." She said, brushing back her dark braids. She'd been on her way out when the commotion had begun, and had only stayed to help the patient. "I'll see you Monday, Dr. Peney." Then she left.
Eloise sat on the edge of the bed and re-wet the sponge. Gently wiping the man's face, brushing a strand of blond hair from his forehead, she was taken by how beautiful he was. Even though his face was covered in bruises and his nose was probably broken he was still a stunning man. And he seemed so familiar…
Eloise nearly dropped the sponge as she gasped.