Chapter Text
Of all the people John Carter could have imagined opening the door to the townhouse he had booked to view, Kerry Weaver was not one of them. Especially a slightly tipsy Kerry Weaver clutching a glass of what smelled like whisky. The drink choice surprised him as much as her being the person who had opened the door. For some reason he’d always pegged Kerry Weaver as a wine drinker.
“So,” she gestured for him to enter a door off the entry hallway after allowing him across the threshold and commenting on his newly shaven face. “Main living room, kitchen. Tenants can use the kitchen, and the tv, but don’t change the settings.”
He stepped into the bright colourful room, an odd mix of cluttered but neat at the same time. It was a perfectly pleasant living space. Just for the moment he was still trying to get his head around the fact that the person’s who’s house it was, was Kerry Weavers.
“Did you want a drink?” Kerry asked him as she limped past him, bobbing slightly from side to side as she did so.
It took Carter a moment to process that she was walking without her ubiquitous crutch. He quickly glanced around, searching for it, or not looking at her, as if seeing her walking without it was somehow an invasion of privacy, akin to seeing her naked. The whole thing felt like an invasion of her privacy if he was honest. He realised he knew very little about his boss, suddenly knowing that she was reading two books at once and liked what looked like bacon pizza felt odd.
“Er…No I’m driving, and I’m not really a liquor drinker.” Carter glanced at her gave a brief smile and then looked very interested at the top shelf of the glass fronted cherrywood kitchen cabinets.
“Me neither,” she took a sip and sucked her teeth at the sensation of the liquor going down, “but my Dad always said you should commiserate but never stew. So whisky and a heart attack pizza,” she gave him a sad smile her eyes looking slightly tearful. “The basement is through there. It’s a little rough but the room and the bathroom are nice. Take a look.”
Carter took the order as it was intended, that she wanted this tour to be over quickly so she could get on with her private pity party. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but the entire staff had been subjected to the rollercoaster emotions of the Acting Chief of the ER during the interview process for Chief. She had seemed resigned and a little upset the past few days when the announcement had come down that the candidate from New York had been picked, only to be buzzing at the news he had turned it down. He assumed her current dim mood was her being told she was no longer being considered, but he could leave those fireworks for his next shift, when he would get his gossip from the more reliable source of the nurses.
He opened the door from the kitchen, and found bare brick and unfinished stud work, looking like someone had started the process of upgrading the space but had given up half way through. At the bottom of the staircase was a long space that ran the length of the house. Studs in place of what looked like had planned to be more rooms and a single doorway which led to a finished room. It was oddly eerie in the light cast from the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. For a moment he half expected going through the doorway he would find some torture dungeon except when he pushed the door open, he found a large room, nicely decorated in a mid blue, with thick plush grey carpet. There were a few small windows which would stop the room feeling dank. He realised for the days he was working nights and had to sleep during the day, he might keep the light out so he could actually get some sleep. The room was furnished with a double bed, a dresser and a large desk. There were 2 doors on the side opposite the windows, one a large closet and the other a large shower room. He smiled at the size of the shower. Some of the places he’d seen, the showers were basically over the toilet or the sink. This bathroom he actually had to take steps to get between the sanitaryware. The bathroom alone was worth taking the room. It just came to, did he want to live with Kerry Weaver? He cast another look around the room and decided to think on it. He quickly climbed the stairs and found Kerry picking at the topping of her pizza.
“So, what do you think?” she asked without looking at him. “Do the horror movie vibes freak you out?”
“It’s a little spooky,” he admitted. “Are you doing it up?”
“No. I bought it like that. The previous owner was trying to turning it into 3 rooms to sublet to hit the student market but I think he had issues with the zoning laws. Meant I got it for a cheaper price because of the work needed. My parents helped me buy it when I was in med school. My Dad was going to come help me finish it,” she gave him a tearful smile “He died 3 days after escrow closed so…” she shrugged and then frowned saying the next part with an air of confusion as if she couldn’t understand why her mouth was moving, the liquor evidently making her tongue looser then she liked. “I decorated it. Well, I got a painter in.”
“You own the whole property?” Carter asked curiously.
“Upstairs would be off limits.”
“Oh yeah, no totally” Carter stifled a smile at her answering the question without answering it as he nodded in understanding. “Well, thank you for letting me see it. I’m seeing a studio first thing tomorrow, so could I let you know?”
“Sure,” she shrugged. Kerry looked down at the pizza box and then back at him. She limped over to her kitchen towel dispenser got a piece and then returned to the box. gingerly she lifted the largest slice of pizza from the box placed it on the paper towel and held it out to him. “Let me know.”
Carter took the pizza with a mute nod and let her usher him out. The chill of the November night made him shiver as she closed the door quietly behind him. He shook his head in bemusement at what had just happened and headed down the street to where he had parked his jeep, pausing to eat the slice of pizza which he had to admit was the perfect level of comforting, unhealthy and delicious you could want when you were having a ‘bad day meal’.
The next morning when he arrived on shift at the ER, after viewing the grossest studio apartment he had ever seen, Carter was desperate to find Kerry. She was oddly absent from her usual haunt of admit area, and the board was in a bit of chaos. Jerry already grumbling about something. His own housing situation more important to him then whatever was bothering the desk clerk, Carter tried his best to locate Kerry while still seeing patients. It took him a good 40 minutes to find her tucked away in sutures working on a complicated laceration that looked like it should have been referred to plastics.
“Hey Dr Weaver,” he hesitated in the doorway, leaning his tall frame against the door and waiting for her permission to enter the space.
“Carter,” she nodded, not taking her focus off what she was doing.
“I’d like to take the room if it’s still available.”
She looked up at him sharply, her hands looking like they were hovering midair, the colourless thread invisible. For a moment he though she was going to tell him no but then she gave him a soft pleased smile.
“It’s $70 a week, bills included apart from food and phone calls. I’ll ask you to do some chores from time to time that I find hard, nothing difficult just problematic with a limp, taking the trash out when the back steps are icy, changing lightbulbs and smoke alarm batteries, that kind of thing,” she waited for him to nod before continuing. “You have a girlfriend right?”
Carter nodded. “Roxanne.”
“She can’t have a key. She can only be there when you are there. It’s my house so I take priority, if I say I’m cooking at a certain time you need to go before or after. You can use my TV but if I want to watch something…”
“Yeah. That sounds more than fair.” Carter nodded. “So, could I move in Saturday? I think we’re both off.”
Kerry nodded in confirmation to both statements. “We are. I’ll draw up a tenancy agreement and put it in your box.”
Carter grinned. “Thanks Dr Weaver.”
Carter accepting the room felt positive, after a week of shitty negativity, a step in the right direction. The suturing had helped to clear Kerry’s buzzing-from-two-too-many-drinks head so she went in search of her next patient. The admit desk was in slight disarray something having happened overnight that had she still been in charge she would have had to deal with.
“Dr Weaver,” Jerry looked at her imploringly as she approached the desk.
“Leave her alone Jerry.” Mark called from where he was reading through a chart. “I told you it needs to go to the Chief of Emergency Services. That’s Dr Anspaugh for now. He has to make a decision before we,” he gestured towards Kerry and then back at himself, “as attendings can act.”
“But I thought you were…”
Kerry picked up the next chart. “Nope,” she cut him off, walking over to the board and signing up for the patient. “I’m just a plain old attending now Jerry,” she moved away before he could start complaining to her. She tried to focus on the patient rather than the swell of disappointment that was sat in her chest. Her Dad’s phrase of commiserate don’t stew was harder to action in reality, especially when it had been something she had really wanted. Especially when she’d worked so hard this last year. She thought she had been doing a good job. Synergix notwithstanding she’d brought efficiency up, got wait times down. The department was largely on budget, but if anything, it was just another case of she had only been in the position because she’d been useful to them. It still hurt to be told that was all she was, the useful idiot who had been there at the right time. It wasn’t the first time where her eagerness to be liked or her ambition to succeed in her career had ended her up in that position.
After assessing the patient and ordering tests she headed back to collect another patient. She groaned inwardly at the sight of a flustered looking Don Anspaugh stood at the desk. She almost turned on the spot but he had seen her so she kept her face neutral and made her way back into the admit desk.
“Kerry, I’ve been called out of surgery for this, can’t you…”
“That is something that falls under the purview of Chief of emergency services, until they have made a decision, I, as an attending, can’t act,” Kerry muttered picking up a chart.
She could sense the bluff and bluster smile that Don had fixed on his face as he walked up to her. “Now Kerry, let’s not be hasty. I was hoping that you could continue as interim...”
“Hasty? 10 months isn’t hasty,” she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear and cut him off. She looked up at him and gave him a cool smile. “Donald, I’m merely respecting the panel’s decision that they hadn’t found an appropriate candidate for the position.” She glanced towards the door as a paramedic run smashed through. “Excuse me, I need to get this.” She walked past him with her head held as high as she could manage, accepting the patient alongside Haleh who gave her a surprisingly appraising look. Kerry looked at her quizzically as they listened to the bullet on their way to Trauma 1. As they pushed through the doors Haleh gave her a half wink.
“You tell ‘em.”
Kerry felt a surprising flush of happiness, if she’d earned Haleh’s approval she must have done something right. It was quickly tempered by the crushing feeling in her chest that she had caused her career harm. She focused on the patient, somehow sticking her hands into a body cavity was soothing, there was a problem, she could find the bleeder, fix it and help the person on their way to their first step back to health.
The anxiety held its grip around her chest for the remainder of the shift, but she was grateful for the gentle care Mark showed her in stopping Chief stuff from landing at her feet. The only bit of administration she did that did not fit under the job description for an attending was make sure the desk had the updated contact information, removing her home number and cell phone from the Chief phone tree.
Having Carter move in gave her a purpose and she spent the Friday focused on her new tenant’s arrival, cleaning out a kitchen cupboard so he would have storage space and reorganising the fridge and freezer. She went to the store and got a new set of cleaning products to put in the caddy in the bathroom. She was hopeful that Carter being an adult in his late 20s he would actually take the hint about keeping the bathroom clean. She hesitated about buying him a bunch of flowers, but decided it was something she did for all her tenants and so set the welcome binder on the desk in the room, with the vase of flowers, jar of instant coffee and a box of chocolates. Kerry then set about cleaning the rest of the house even though her cleaning lady had only been in on Tuesday and moving some of her more private and esoteric books that had migrated downstairs, back upstairs to her office.
On the Saturday morning, Kerry got up early to be ready for Carter’s arrival, spending the waiting time brewing proper coffee and baking a loaf of bread. He arrived shortly after 9am and she couldn’t help but smile at his smile of absolute delight when he took his first sip of coffee. After handing him the keys she made her way upstairs to let him have some time to heft and shift his possessions into the house and down the steps to the basement. After an hour she heard an almighty crash and made her way down from the study to find Carter catching his breath as he lay on the floor in the middle of a pile of boxes.
“John! Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, extricating his long legs from the cardboard. “I’m good. I just misjudged my ability to carry multiple boxes.” He sat up and stared at her, frowning slightly as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “You called me John?”
“Yes,” Kerry nodded. “This is home, so first names are fine.”
“I can call you Kerry?” his eyebrows migrated upwards in surprise.
“In the house, yes.” Kerry nodded as she scanned the surprising number of boxes. Given the noise he had been moving stuff for over an hour. When she glanced outside, she was surprised to see a U-Haul trailer attached to Carter’s jeep. “I thought you lost your stuff in a fire a few years ago?”
“I did,” he stood up and gave her a sheepish grin “I replaced everything and then when I left my grandparents, I took all my stuff from when I was a kid, so, this is my entire life in boxes,” he smiled softly. “I get the impression that hurt Gamma, more than stopping taking money from the trust fund.”
Kerry frowned slightly. “You are fighting with your family?”
“No,” he shook his head and smiled widely. “Just trying to exert some independence. Good for a man to do so. Grandpa seemed impressed at least. I still have dinner with them on occasion and I have to attend some of the functions.”
“That’s why you needed a salary this year?” Kerry asked picking her way around the boxes and then moving to the kitchen. There was a small space of cabinetry meant for storing trays and baking sheets. If she angled her crutch just right it was the perfect place to have the crutch stand up and be secure so it didn’t fall down. “Would you like something to eat?”
“I…Yeah sure that would be good” Carter pushed on of the heavier of his boxes towards the basement door with his foot. He paused and stared at her.
Kerry realised he was watching her walk around the kitchen. “I can walk without it.”
He blushed crimson. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just you always have the crutch.”
“Yes,” she nodded and gave him a small smile. “I try to go without if I’m not in too much pain, gives my arm a rest.” He did his little backwards nod, an action that had always intrigued her because it was not a mannerism she had ever seen anyone else do. “Have you had a chance to look at the binder?” She asked enquiring about the welcome binder she’d left on the desk for him.
“I skimmed. It’s thorough.”
“Have you ever known me not to be?” She smirked. “Ham or Cheese?”
“Ham would be great,” He stacked the boxes in front of the basement door and settled onto the kitchen counter stool.
“I don’t normally do food for tenants, but I think I can make an exception for you,” she put the bread she had made earlier on a cutting board. “On occasion.” She busied herself making the sandwich while Carter watched her move around the kitchen and then slid the plate across the counter to him. He picked up the ham salad sandwich eagerly and took a mouthful, pausing with apparent delight at the flavour. “Good?”
After swallowing his hearty bite, he smiled widely at her. “This bread is amazing.”
Kerry blushed slightly. “I try to make it when I get a chance. There is so much sugar in some of the breads these days. Plus, the butter. Butter makes everything taste good, it’s worth paying the extra to get good quality.”
Carter chuckled and took another hearty bite, after a few chews he grinned at her. “I get the feeling that it’s a good thing you don’t do food for tenants. I think my pant size would go up very rapidly.”
“Moderation is the key Carter,” Kerry began tidying the components away and cast her eye across the boxes still cluttering her living room. “Bose? Are they as good as they say?”
Carter shrugged dismissively. “I don’t know they only other thing I had before was an old record player from the 70s and a crappy boom box. Anything is better then those. Maybe we could hook it up, up here?”
“Oh Man, that would be great!” Kerry abandoned her cleaning and limped over to the box. “If you don’t mind?” she grinned as he nodded his backwards nod again. “You are already on your way to be my favourite tenant!”