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do i dare or do i dare? [userpic]

A&E fic: The Right Foot 2/2

February 1st, 2012 (12:09 pm)
shocked

feeling: shocked

Continued from PART ONE



-o-

When his pager went off, Christine had taken pity on him and answered the call. He’d been grateful, he supposed, though he wasn’t really sure why. Sitting alone in his damned office wasn’t doing him any good and it certainly wasn’t helping Danny.

In his mind, he went over the procedure. Thought about the exploratory course, the reconstruction of the artery. None of it was particularly touchy surgery, though it was time consuming. The longer it went on, the greater the risks. Post-op infection to some degree was almost inevitable. Recovery time – weeks, maybe months.

And if there was more damage…if it hit a kidney or nicked the liver and some kind of removal was necessary then everything could be ramped up. If things go really poorly, Danny could have six months of recovery.

Half a year.

And that, of course, didn’t entertain the idea that the boy could still die.

It was a bit much to think about. In A&E, Robert focused on the short term, the immediate. He didn’t have to deal much with the aftermath, and he’d always preferred it that way.

But life wasn’t so convenient.

Robert should know that by now, all things considered. Today of all days.

There was another knock at the door. Looking up, he half expected to see Christine again, but it was Terry instead.

“Sorry,” the nurse said, looking truly chagrined. “Christine said I might find you here.”

Robert didn’t reply, just looked.

Terry shrugged, still apologetic. “We’ve got a bit of a trauma coming in and we’re still full up on patients from this morning,” he said. “And we’re already down one doctor…”

The words lingered, the implication clear. They were understaffed because one of their doctors was currently up in theatre with his insides on display while surgeons played hide and seek with a bullet through his intestines.

“So I thought…” Terry tried to continue.

Robert sighed. “Yeah, of course,” he said. “I’ll be right out.”

That was that. Except Terry was still there. He paused, thoughtful then he looked at Robert again with regret. “It’s not a good day for things, is it?” he asked. “All things considered.”

Robert snorted. “No,” he agreed. “Not at all.”

“The kid was excited about it all, though,” Terry offered. “He has heart, that one. That’ll help him in all this.”

Robert didn’t reply. They both knew better. They saw people every day – people with heart – and they still died. As unjustly and routinely as the rest.

“I knew from looking at him that he would be right at home here,” Terry continued. “Once he got over the nerves, that is. But he’s bright. And he cares about people. Not looking for glory. Just to do the right thing.”

Robert sat very still, afraid to move. Afraid he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he dared to try.

“You can’t ask for more than that,” Terry said. Then he sighed, moving to leave again.

He could have let Terry go, but something made him stop. “I hope I get to find out,” he said.

Terry stopped, looking back.

Robert nodded at him, throat thick. “All that,” he said. “I hope I get to find out. All I know for sure is that he saved my life. And that he has a very overly excited fiancée.”

The minute he said it, recognition dawned on him. “Shite,” he muttered. “Has someone called the fiancée?”

Terry’s face creased with regret. “I don’t even know her name.”

“Amanda,” Robert remembered.

“You know, I’ll bet we have her name in some of the contact forms Danny filled out this morning,” he said.

“She should know,” he said, feeling the idea of it solidified within him. It was something to do; anything. Even if it hurt, it was better.

Terry nodded. “I’ll get right on it,” he said.

“Good,” Robert said as Terry left. He nodded to himself in the stillness. Gathering a breath, he let it out and gathered his wits. “Good.”

-o-

Working had always been the easiest part of life for Robert. Being married had been a constant push and pull and he often found that parenting, while bringing him the most joy, always tended to cause him the most anxiety.

Work, on the other hand, was simple. Patients came in, he treated them, patients went out. The simple predictability of such a pattern was solace to him even when the rest of life was hopelessly in disarray.

That was what he had now. Work.

And it was easy. The bustle of the resus room helped him forget, helped him not think about it.

But nothing could make it go away. While he was working, he still saw it happening. Still saw Danny stretched out as he cut the boy open. Still saw the tired half-lidded eyes trying to make sense of it all. Saw the boy take the bullet, blood all over the floor.

It didn’t help that the entire area was taped off – a crime scene or that pesky cop coming round to ask him the same stupid questions.

As if there was anything to suss out. Eddie came in; Eddie took two hostages. Eddie killed one; Eddie shot the other.

They hadn’t even let someone clean up the floor and Robert could still see the pool of blood whenever he walked by.

It was a damn big pool. Danny’s blood.

But Robert had work to do. He had patients to treat. He tried not to think of the instructions he could have been giving to Danny, tried not to think of the boy in the theatre right now.

Mostly, he tried not to think at all as he did his rounds as best he knew how.

-o-

The routine was an apt tranquilizer. He was so engrossed in the second to second minutia of it that he was actually one of the last to hear. Even then, it was nothing more than chance.

Robert tended to avoid loitering at the admit desk – too much gossip for his palate – but as he was filing some paperwork, he couldn’t help but hear.

“Dawes said it was a mess,” Saskia was saying, leaning close to Sam. The blonde nurse didn’t look nearly as intrigued as Saskia continued with flourish. “Nearly lost him twice but he hung on by a thread. Can you imagine?”

Robert turned on her, pinning her with a look. “Danny’s out of theatre?”

Saskia blinked at him, clearly surprised. “Yeah,” she said. “Word came that he was in recovery about ten minutes ago.”

“And why wasn’t I told?” he demanded.

Saskia’s mouth opened but no words came out, but Robert didn’t wait for her to explain anything. He’d always seen her as a capable doctor but somewhat of a silly girl. She was too loose with her tongue and not focused enough in her personal matters but it wasn’t her fault.

Moving away, he caught sight of Christine, speeding up to catch her. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he demanded.

She didn’t stop, just shook her head as she stopped off at the desk to pick up a clipboard. “You were busy,” she said. “Ruth took the call and I only just found out myself.”

“I should have been told!” he said, his anger almost boiling over now. A few of the nurses were watching him, but Robert didn’t have the patience to care.

“And you’re being told now,” she said. Then she stopped in earnest and looked at him fully. There was compassion in her eyes, even with the firmness. “I don’t know all the details, but I do know he’s alive and been transferred to a recovery room until he comes out of general anesthesia.”

“Yeah, and I also heard he coded twice,” Robert snapped.

Christine blanched just slightly, but he had to give her credit for not flinching at his tone. “I can’t tell you for sure or not,” she said. “You know how rumors are.”

“And this shouldn’t be a rumor,” he said. “Not even a little. Danny Barton is a doctor. He saved my life and he deserves better than the birds picking apart his condition, no matter how complimentary they fancy it to be.”

Christine kept herself erect, pressing her lips together carefully. “I agree,” she said. “I’ll have a talk with some of the nurses and other doctors and make sure the point is driven home.”

It was such a fast concession that Robert was too surprised to speak.

Christine squared her shoulders. “Now, if you would like, I can take over your patient load for now.”

Robert frowned, immediately suspicious.

Lifting her eyebrows, Christine said, “I assume you’ll want to go upstairs and find out the facts for yourself, yes?”

Just like that, the anger drains out of him. In its place is relief, wide and true. He breathes out, trying to will his limbs to relax. “Thank you,” he said as he turned to leave.

She nodded. “Oh, and Robert?” she asked.

He stopped to look back.

“Be sure to let us know,” she said. She shrugged. “To at least set the record straight.”

Robert nodded at her, grateful again for her solidarity and friendship. She had always been his best success, his favorite mentee.

He could only hope that time would tell whether or not Danny might give her a run for her money.

-o-

It had only been a handful of hours since he’d last been to theatre, but stepping out of the lift, he had to admit, it felt longer. All of his determination and bluster from before was gone. In its place was something much more timid, even if he was loathe to admit it. Truth was, fear was gnawing at him, slow but sure.

He needed to know how Danny was faring, of course. But his mind was awash with the possible complications and worst case scenarios. He didn’t want to think that after all this, Danny might still not be okay.

He confronted the first nurse he saw, who gauged him with sympathy, and said that Dawes was busy and that the nursing staff from the theatre were still cleaning up. He could swing by the ward if he wanted, but he’d have to wait just a bit for a full report.

He murmured his thanks and was making his way toward the ward when he saw her.

At first, he didn’t recognize her. He had, after all, only met Amanda once and even then, only briefly. Plus, he’d been studiously trying not to see her, too intent on rebuffing her and watching Danny squirm helplessly at her silly thoughtfulness.

But he could see her now and before he could duck away, her eyes met his and he had no choice.

Moving toward her, he tried to smile. “Are you all right?” he asked.

It was a foolish question – one Robert immediately found meaningless – but it was apt nonetheless.

Her face was pale, cheeks flushed red and her eyelashes stuck together. She’d been crying and her hands were fretting together even as she looked up at him like he was something akin to a savior. “Dr. Kingsford,” she said, half exclaiming his name. “I came as soon as I heard—“

She looked about ready to break again, and as much as Robert didn’t want to, he sat down next to her. The last thing he needed was a scene. “Has Dr. Dawes been out to see you?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she said. “I talked to some nurse who said Danny’s out of theatre. He’s alive but they won’t tell me any more than that.”

“I’m sure the doctor will be out soon,” Robert tried to reassure her.

She shook her head, swallowing convulsively. “I still don’t understand what happened,” she said, looking at him desperately. “He was shot. How was he shot? He’s a doctor; he helps people. Why would somebody shoot him?”

And wasn’t that the question. One Robert didn’t quite know how to answer. “Bad luck mostly,” he said.

The answer was woefully inadequate and Amanda dropped her head forward, sniffling miserably. “He was so excited about today,” she said, dabbing at her nose desperately. She smiled, fresh tears streaming down her face. “He’d talked about what a great opportunity this was. A chance to learn from the best. He just wanted to help people. That’s the kind of guy Danny is. He wants to help people.”

The words trailed off and she shuddered, collecting herself and hunching forward with a barely controlled sob.

Sucking in a mighty breath, she raised herself up again. “I just wish they’d tell me what happened,” she said, more than a little brokenly. “I just want to know.”

And that much, Robert understood. He understood better than he wanted to. He’d deemed her a silly girl before, but he could see now that she cared about Danny. That was why she’d shown up with his lunch. Because she cared about him. She was invested in him, for better and for worse. That was the way it was supposed to be when two people cared about each other.

And Robert had pissed all over it. Half mocked it, half condemned it.

Now Danny was shot and Amanda was sopping up tears and it wasn’t Robert’s fault but somehow it was.

Somehow, it just was.

Stomach churning almost painfully, he drew himself upward. It was an awkward thing, but he lifted a hand, putting it gently on her shoulder. “I know,” he said, even if it was a lie to some degree. “And that’s how it happened. He got shot trying to help someone else.”

Amanda looked up at him, a little amazed as she blinked bloodshot eyes.

Robert nodded, forcing himself to continue. “Someone came in and threatened a patient and then they threatened me,” he said. “Danny stepped between us. Saved my life.”

Her eyes were intensely earnest but she didn’t know what to say.

Robert squeezed her shoulder before letting his hand fall away. “Why don’t I go see what I can find out, okay?”

Her face brightened with someone akin to hope. “Can you?”

“One of the perks of being a doctor,” he told her with a conspiratorial air.

She laughed, a messy, wet laugh.

Robert got to his feet with a groan.

Her voice stopped him. “Dr. Kingsford?”

He turned back.

She wet her lips, smiling. “Thank you.”

He nodded, taking the compliment but even as he walked away, he could only think that it was Danny who deserved all their thanks today.

-o-

Robert knew his way around theatre and its accompanying recovery wards. But, as a doctor in A&E, he wasn’t exactly an expert and he felt sorely out of place as he navigated the beds.

Danny wasn’t hard to find. He recognized some of the patients from the accident, but Danny’s lanky figure was easy enough to make out.

One of the theatre nurses was still nearby, making notations on his chart. Edging closer, Robert lingered at the foot of the bed, glancing down the length of Danny’s body with trepidation.

The boy was still, long arms positioned at his sides. He was only half-covered with a blanket, leaving his chest exposed and the bulky bandage on the incision site clearly visible. Robert noticed for the first time that Danny had a tattoo on his upper bicep – of what, he wasn’t sure. He’d have to ask him someday.

Danny’s face was partially obscured by the ventilator tube. It was still taped down, holding his still-colorless lips slightly ajar. His waxy complexion made his dark eyebrows standout even more and his hair was disheveled in the melee, resting askew on his head.

“I heard it was his first day,” the nurse commented.

Robert startled, looking toward her to find her studying Danny as well. “Yeah,” he said.

She pursed her lips, shaking her head. “Not exactly the best first impression,” she said with some regret.

Robert’s throat was almost too tight to reply. Still, he forced the emotion down. “How is he?”

“Critical,” she said. “But relatively stable, for the moment. Dr. Dawes had to do some digging, but he found the bullet in the intestinal tract. Damn thing ricocheted off a rib, which gave us a nice headache.”

Robert frowned. “Did the rib splinter?”

“Just slightly,” she said. “Shouldn’t be much trouble in healing, though he’ll want to be careful if he fancies a game of football. At any rate, Dr. Dawes thinks he got all the pieces so they won’t go poking through and causing more trouble for the lad.”

Robert’s jaw worked, watching as Danny’s chest rose and fell. He glanced at the monitors, noting the vitals. They were up significantly from the resus room, which was a good thing. “Damage to organs?”

“He’s lucky that it missed his kidney,” she said. “We had to do some vascular work, of course, but the bulk of the mess was a rupture in his small intestine. Dr. Dawes thinks he caught it quick enough—“

Robert nodded grimly. “But infection is likely.”

She shrugged sympathetically.

“Doesn’t look like a full blown case of sepsis, though,” she said. “And so far, he’s holding his own against it. We’ve got him on a round of antibiotics. See if we can nip it in the bud and all.”

Robert nodded.

The nurse put the chart on the bed. “He’s still heavily sedated,” she reported. “Should be for a while. We don’t want him moving too much and disturbing the work.”

“His fiancée is waiting outside,” Robert said.

“I’ll have Dr. Dawes make a point,” she said. “Until then, you can sit with him. I trust you know what not to do.”

Robert forced a smile. “I think I can manage.”

She inclined her head in deference and made her way back to the nurse’s station. After she had gone, Robert turned back to Danny. For a moment, he simply stood there, watching the boy breathe.

Danny Barton was little more than a stranger to him. And yet, he was the boy – the man – who had saved Robert’s life. It could have been him lying here – or worse. It probably should have been him. He’d been the one to be so defiant, to push his luck and stand on principle instead of common sense. He’d been the one to take the risk and Danny had followed his lead and had taken the fall.

It was almost too ridiculous to understand. What kind of person jumped in front of a bullet meant for someone else? For someone they hardly knew?

That was a stupid question, though. It was exactly what Robert would have done.

His eyes lingered on Danny’s face.

This kid had potential. He just needed a chance to show it.

And Robert suddenly wanted the chance to find out. This morning, he hadn’t cared too much. There had been too many other things to attend to. But now, he wanted nothing more than another chance of his own.

Pressing his lips together, he rallied his reserves. “You know,” he said, as discreetly as he could. “It’s really not first impressions that matter.”

Danny didn’t move, and the ventilator hissed as it breathed for him again.

Robert shifted from foot to foot, thinking about the grim anniversary he had to remember, the child he had to raise. Christine. His job.

Danny.

“It’s what comes after,” he concluded.

At least, Robert hoped that was the case. For Danny – as well as himself.

-o-

How he managed to talk to Amanda again, Robert still wasn’t sure. In his mind, it was just like relating the news to any other relative. Explaining the facts, being honest and careful. Offering hope but not too much.

Cliches. Rubbish, all of it.

It was all he had. He couldn’t look at her as anything else. If he let himself see her as Danny’s fiancée, as someone who mattered, he wasn’t sure he could have gotten through it at all, not with the image of Danny’s still body still so fixed in his memory.

Back downstairs, Robert found himself in his office. If there were patients, the staff knew enough to handle it without him. Robert wasn’t one to shirk his responsibilities, but he also wasn’t one who knew how to deal with his emotions, much less his doubts.

In truth, Robert wasn’t much used to doubts at all. Sure, he was used to having blood on his hands, but it had always come off easy. Two flicks to whisk the gloves off and move on. Nary the time for a second thought. No need for second impressions when the first would do.

It wasn’t so easy this time. Because it wasn’t really that Danny was upstairs in recovery, fighting off a probable infection and dealing with massive blood loss. It wasn’t even the pretty girl in the waiting room, fretting and crying.

And it wasn’t even that the bullet had been meant for him.

It was that Danny Barton had taken the bullet and Robert didn’t even know the boy. He didn’t know a thing about him. He didn’t know what his career goals were; he didn’t know what his favorite course at University had been. He didn’t know what he liked on his sandwich or if he drank heavy liquor or beer. He didn’t know where he was from, if he had siblings. If he liked to tell jokes or had a sarcastic sense of humor.

He just knew he’d stuck his foot in his mouth, gotten in over his head, and then taken a bullet meant for someone else.

Robert hadn’t deemed him quite worth a second look and then the boy had done that.

Robert didn’t like second guessing. He didn’t like doubting. He didn’t like admitting that this world was one he didn’t control, that people lived and died without his permission, that he was only mortal, as prone to mistakes as the rest of them.

He called Sunita, just to hear his son’s voice. He asked her if she could keep him overnight, promised her good payment in the morning. When she asked what was wrong, Robert blew out a breath and smiled, cradling his head in his hands. “Just some things I must attend to.”

She hadn’t questioned, but Robert knew she wanted to. He’d explain it in the morning. He’d explain it when Danny was going to be okay.

Minutes slipped into hours and Robert dozed. He dreamed about his son and his wife. He dreamed about Chris and Danny. His son was laughing, his wife was making breakfast. Christine was pursuing her lips and shaking her head and Danny kept jumping in front of bullets and looking up at him like he still held all the answers.

The hand on his arm was gentle but it pulled him back to consciousness violently. He gasped and remembered himself, containing his reaction before he gave himself away more than he already had.

“What are you doing?” Christine asked. She looked tired; weary from work.

Robert straightened, ignoring the twinge of his stiff muscles from sleeping upright. “Sleeping.”

“In your office?” she asked with vague incredulity.

Robert shifted, stretching his back. “Just waiting for Danny to wake up,” he said.

Christine gave him an appraising look but seemed to take pity on him anyway. “Then you better get up,” she said.

For a second, Robert could only stare blankly, his mind groggy with restless sleep.

“I just heard,” she said, the smile on her lips small but clear. “He’s awake.”

It took a moment – a long moment – for Robert to understand. To process her words. “He’s awake?”

“Just came around,” she said.

Suddenly galvanized, Robert got to his feet. At the door, he paused awkwardly looking back.

Christine waved her hand. “Don’t worry about work,” she said. “We’ll figure it out.”

And that was all Robert needed to hear as he headed back toward the lift.

-o-

Back upstairs, Robert found himself nervous. That was unsettling and unexpected; Robert wasn’t one to flinch, not in the face of any conflict. He wasn’t the one prone in a hospital bed, but he still felt vulnerable all the same.

In the ward, Robert’s determined steps slowed and he stopped short of Danny’s bed. The younger doctor looked much like he did before, eye closed and long body still. But the ventilator had been removed, and one quick glance at the monitors told Robert that his vitals were continuing to rebound.

When he looked back at Danny, he was surprised to find the boy’s eyes open and looking at him.

It seemed to be an effort for Danny to focus, so Robert swallowed his uncertainty and stepped closer to his side, trying to smile as he made eye contact. “Dr. Barton,” he said as conversationally as he could.

Up close, Danny looked exhausted. His pallor was still somewhat ashen and his eyes, though open, seemed heavy. Still, the recognition was clear. The young doctor sucked in a ragged breath and replied, “Bollocks.”

Robert couldn’t help but grin. “I do think that fits you,” he said. “Dr. Bollocks.”

Danny’s lips quirked just slightly, the image of a smile almost crossing his features.

The small movement seemed burdensome and Robert’s parental instincts flared up. Easing even closer, he rested a hand on Danny’s arm. “But it is perhaps a bit harsh,” he amended gently. “Seeing as you are a hero now.”

Danny’s forehead crinkled a little.

“You saved my life,” Robert said.

Danny’s expression was confused.

Robert found himself frowning, too, fresh concern welling inside of him. Brain damage was a remote possibility, but some memory loss was not uncommon, especially this soon after major surgery and powerful anesthesia. “What do you remember?” he asked.

Danny blinked, swallowing. He seemed to collect himself and with new resolve, held Robert’s eyes. “My first day,” he said.

Robert nodded in encouragement. “That’s right,” he said. “And a busy one, at that.”

Looking thoughtful, Danny continued. “There was an auto accident,” he said.

“Yes, and we took in most of the casualties,” Robert added.

“And I had a patient,” Danny said, voice raspy and weak. Then he paused, head cocked slightly. His eyes widened. “There was a gun.”

Robert eased forward, squeezing Danny’s arm slightly. “That’s right,” he said soothingly. “But it’s all right now.”

But Danny’s eyes were still large, signs of panic on his pale features. “He killed the patient,” he said, his gaze locked on Robert. The heart monitor registered an influx. “He was going to shoot you.”

“But he didn’t,” Robert said quickly, holding the younger doctor’s gaze earnestly. “I’m okay. Thanks to you.”

The panic seemed to ease just slightly, but the confusion returned.

“You took the bullet instead,” Robert reminded him gently, watching carefully for any signs of distress. “Sort of an extreme way to get back on my good side.”

Danny’s heart rate slowed again, his BP dropping just slightly as the tension seemed to drain out of his body. The intensity in his eyes dimmed somewhat and he was clearly fighting against the pull of unconsciousness.

Despite that, Danny refused to look away. He winced as he swallowed again, trying hard to gather enough air to speak again. “I make a better – a better second impression,” he said, each word halting.

When he was done, he deflated even further, his eyelids fluttering as the drugs and exhaustion took him inevitably back under.

“I can see that,” he said, watching as the boy’s face slackened, lips parted in healing sleep. “I just hope you can say the same for me.”

-o-

Truthfully, Danny had sort of lost track of the days. Between waking up slowly from the anesthesia to the timeless days in the hospital, it had all been something of a blur, defined by doctor visits and Amanda’s cheery clinging in between, not seconds and hours like the rest of the world.

He wasn’t in want for visitors, though. Amanda had taken as much time off as she could, and though she fretted about not being there all the time, there always seemed to be someone up. After a week, he half suspected that the nurses and doctors in the A&E had worked out a schedule to keep him company.

Danny didn’t like being cooped up – and he certainly didn’t like the painful recovery from a gunshot to the abdomen – but he couldn’t deny that there was something entertaining about getting to know his coworkers that way.

He knew Terry liked to sing; he’d found out that Poppy had two beautiful children. Saskia was a bit of a party girl and Sam had the emotional fortitude of a saint. Ruth had a wicked sense of humor and Christine was pleasant in her conversation, if entirely perfunctory.

Robert was harder to gauge, and though he visited, he was more reserved than the rest. Danny couldn’t remember a lot from the incident, but he remembered Robert taking charge in a way Danny had been too scared to, remembered thinking it was time to prove himself.

The first days after weren’t much clearer, and he wasn’t sure if the hazy conversation with Robert had been real or imagined. It felt real, but Robert didn’t seem like the thank you type, so Danny had his reasons to doubt.

Ultimately, though, it didn’t matter. He’d been making friends, it seemed, but he hadn’t gotten to prove himself as a doctor.

Not until today.

Standing outside the hospital, Danny felt a twinge of trepidation. He’d gotten the okay to return to work; he was still a bit thinner than normal and the puckered wound and operating incision were deep purple as they healed. His stamina wasn’t what it used to be, but he was able to move pain free.

He was able to do his job.

Which was, after all, why he’d come here in the first place. To be a doctor.

His first impression had been less than perfect; up and down, to say the least. From mangling his introduction to Robert to mixing up a patient’s family to getting himself bloody shot.

Second impressions, though. Those could definitely be his thing.

And even if they were, Danny was willing to try.

Collecting a breath, he let it out again. Feeling resolved, he started walking, going back inside with his head held high, ready for anything.

Comments

Posted by: blackdog_lz (blackdog_lz)
Posted at: February 1st, 2012 07:14 pm (UTC)
Stephen and Abby

Unfortunately I never found A&E and your fic makes me regret that even more.
Robert's despair and fear of failure was so clear and painful to read.
The medical aspects sounded very believable to me, but my only knowledge is 'ER'.
And really, whumping James Murray's various characters is an awesome gift and I'm always happy to see you expand it :)

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: February 3rd, 2012 01:07 pm (UTC)
johnny boy works

A&E was hard to find, although I didn't do much of the hard work. I got it from someone else who got it from someone else who did all the hard work. It's never been released on DVD, which seems silly to me, but I guess maybe someday. James' other early series, North Square, is just now getting a DVD release so I guess it's possible.

And I'm glad it was entertaining to read anyway -- though I make no promises as to the accuracy of the characterizations :) Having only watched the fourth season, I was probably somewhat at a disadvantage.

Also, I love that people further enable and encourage me in my pursuit of whumping all of James' characters :) It is a lofty goal, perhaps, but I really do enjoy it!

Thanks!

Posted by: kristen_mara (kristen_mara)
Posted at: February 3rd, 2012 07:11 am (UTC)
Stephen Clouds


I'm glad how you gave Amanda a much better second impression too!

////He recognized some of the patients from the accident, but Danny’s lanky figure was easy enough to make out////

I remember in Primeval when Stephen was in the hospital bed - he was almost too tall for it *G*

Great angst and ponderings, and I'm glad that Danny got to get to know the others so well.

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: February 3rd, 2012 01:09 pm (UTC)

I'm glad how you gave Amanda a much better second impression too!

When watching, it seemed like there was more to that relationship than we ever got to see. One of the weirdest things about watching British shows for me is that the seasons are so short. There's hardly enough time to really develop characters and story lines -- at least, compared to the long seasons I'm used to with American TV.

I remember in Primeval when Stephen was in the hospital bed - he was almost too tall for it *G*

And now I really want to go back and watch that episode :)

And mostly, thanks! This is one of those fics I didn't figure many people would read so it's nice to get a bit of feedback!

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