Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > This Isn't What You Wanted.

Chapter 1 - I Think We Have An Emergency

by whatkatydid 6 Reviews

Sometimes you think your day can't get any worse.....and then it does. REVIEWS PLEASE! XD

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: G - Genres: Drama - Characters:  - Warnings: [!!!] - Published: 2006/10/01 - Updated: 2006/10/01 - 918 words

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She lit the cigarette, taking a long drag, taking twice as long to exhale the poison. Her arm was tucked firmly under her other arm and she flicked the cigarette gently.

"Bad day?" he asked,

"You could say that...." She said softly and carried on looking over the Chicago skyline.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

There was recognition of that tone in his body language as he carefully approached and leaned over the barrier. His hands gripping it firmly.

"Look.....Bea, we gotta talk-"

"-Not now Michael. Really. Not now." She said exasperated.

She looked down at that symbol of commitment on his left hand and immediately despised him for everything he had promised, everything he had whispered in her ear, every place he touched her and every time he left to go back to her.

The smoke from her cigarette was dancing in the stiffness of the cold December night. She'd wanted to kick the disgusting habit but felt it was all she had sometimes.

"I want to take you out to dinner on Saturday.....Somewhere special. Can you make it?" He asked, she looked at him.

He had rugged features, he was simply handsome. His tufts of hair were enough for him to be forgiven any immoral behavior he had. He looked good in blue. He looked like a hero.

"I'll have to get back to you."

"Fine."

"Great."

"I gotta -"

"-Get back....I know." She said, sucking in another long, fed up, draw of the white stick.

"I'll call you." He said softly, her eyes softened and she let a smile tug the corners of her lips firmly.

"Great." She said, in the same tone she'd said it last time.

He silently made his way off the roof.

This is a very sorry state of affairs......no pun intended.
What I'm doing is wrong. He is married. He is a Dad. He has commitments. He's my boss. He's the very person I should not be screwing around with but I just can't not do it.
Ugh! I am a shame to my family. If they knew, they'd be hurt for sure.
God, why did I work my ass off for this? Didn't I learn anything at University - looks like I stuffed my common sense up my ass cos I'm totally incapable of making wise decisions.
I can save a life but I'm currently destroying several with my selfish desire to have this man........I have to end it. I'm better, stronger, wiser and above all this madness. I'll tell him Saturday....yeah.....I'm strong enough to be able to do this to his face, then he'll get the point.....All I have to do now between then and now is fall out of love-


-beep beep beep!

She pulled the pager from her trouser pocket and looked down.

"Crap it!" she growled and threw the cigarette down. She jogged to the roof door and hurried down the stairs. She grew breathless as she pushed open the door to the ER firmly.

"Dr Owen, can you put your name on this, Psyche won't take him until you sign the release!" the nurse said, she stopped and took the board firmly, squiggling her signature on it.

"Thank you!" She smiled and Beatrice smiled at her.

The front doors burst open and they wheeled in the stretcher. The cold wind thrust itself into the ER and she felt it prickle her skin instantly. It was always a rush when new patients were admitted. Not because she enjoyed it, but because it was her chance to do everything she could to save that persons life or help them recover from their injury. She was trying to make a difference.

It was what she wanted.

"20 something male, OD , unknown as yet what on , BP 90/50 , unconscious with no response to stims or reflexes." The paramedic reeled out.

She picked up the board and scanned it immediately with her well trained eyes. They wheeled the stretcher into the trauma room.

"Carla we're gonna need an ABG stat and tell labs to run intoxication level tests /ASAP/." She said firmly, Carla nodded and carried out her task quickly.

She turned to get a look at the patient and stopped as she saw the arm...

/Oh god, incoming...../she said to herself as she felt the trauma heading towards her quicker than her nerves could handle.

A sound came from her lips that was often heard in the ER. It was sound of utter grief and as her eyes glazed over, a nurse grabbed her arm to steady her.

"Dr Owen...Are you OK?" She asked, still holding her firmly.

Bea's eyes remained fixed to the patient and the nurse looked.

"Do you know him?"

Bea rushed forward and leaned over him.

"What have you done???" She cried to him, her hands holding his face so hard, her fingers dug into his skin.

"Beatrice!!!" Michael called, rushing to her side, he pulled her away and she resisted hard.

"No!!!" She cried

Michael pinned her arms as she bucked against him.

"No!!"

"What have you done??" She sobbed again.

"Let them work on him Bea....We're gonna get him back!" He whispered softly in her ear and she sobbed loudly. Her body went limp and he had her gripped under her waist, pinning her arms at the front.

"Peter!!....." She wept.

Michael forced her out the trauma room and she leaned her hands against the glass.

"No!" She sobbed, she shook her head.

"No Peter!!"
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