Blurred Lines

Chapter 26 - Here You Come Again

December 5, 1992

Salem University Hospital

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Here you come again

Just when I've begun to get myself together

You waltz right in the door

Just like you've done before

And wrap my heart 'round your little finger

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John's feet slammed against the pavement as he pushed his way through the Emergency Room entrance at Salem University Hospital. Eric hung onto him tightly, crying softly against his neck, and John whispered, "I'm with you. Daddy's got you. It's going to be okay."

"Daddy, it hurts," Eric sobbed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault buddy. It was mine." John glanced around frantically, making eye contact with the first nurse he saw, "His ankle is broken! I need a doctor." He followed the nurse into a vacant cubicle, and laid Eric down gently on the wheeled bed, brushing the boy's blonde hair back from his forehead. Despite the cold air outside his hair was saturated with sweat, and John knew Eric's blood pressure would be high. He couldn't blame him. It didn't matter that he'd told Eric repeatedly that he couldn't get on the ice unless he'd checked his skates. John still held himself accountable.

Glancing at Eric kindly the nurse said, "My name is Maria. I'm going to be making sure we take care of your ankle, okay? What's your name?"

"Er–Eric B–Brady," he said with his teeth chattering. "My name is Eric Brady."

Maria smiled, "Well, Eric, I'm going to have to check your blood pressure, and take your temperature. Is that okay? Let's get a blanket on you, and then I'll have the doctor come take a look, and we might need to take some pictures of your bones."

Eric nodded at her, but said nothing in response. He continued to shiver, and John wasn't sure if it was from the run through the cold, or shock setting in.

Glancing at John, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Daddy." Eric watched as the nurse attached a blood pressure cuff to his small arm, and then he told John, his voice shaking with dry heaves, "My foot was it–itchy, and I–I took my s–skate off. I didn't h–have you check it...and–and..."

"We'll talk about it later, slugger. We're not going to worry about it now," John told him. He was beating himself up inside. He'd seen Eric sitting in the bleachers messing with his skates, but there were other players around him, and he should have paid closer attention. Eric was eight years old. He was the adult. Just because John had told him something, didn't mean Eric would always listen. "We're going to get this ankle looked at, and I'm going to make sure that you get the care you need. Okay?"

Eric heard what John was saying, but he was caught up in his pain, and the fact that he didn't listen. "I didn't tie them tight enough," Eric continued to cry. His ankle was throbbing every time his heart beat. Suddenly sharp pains stabbed their way up his leg, and he screeched, reaching for John, "Daddy!"

"I'll have the doctor come in, but Eric is going to need x-rays. I'll be back with some paperwork," she said. "You'll need to sign consent for treatment."

"I need to call his mother," John told her. He couldn't sign paperwork for Eric, and he hadn't had a chance to even tell Marlena what was happening.

"Aren't you his father?" she asked, feeling slightly confused. Eric was calling him Daddy.