The title for this story is derivative of the meaning of the name 'Elizabeth' which means (ironically enough) "Consecrated to God."

This is perhaps a bit out of character, but it is post-mark, very soon after his death.

I've realized before that I've never said I don't own ER, but, I don't. And I think you all know that. If I did, Romano would still be alive. Nor, am I making any money from this, unless you count, of course, the hours it's gotten me through while at work.

Anyway, here it is: "Consecrated to God"


The sound of crying woke Elizabeth Corday from a dreamless sleep. She scrambled out of bed and ran into Ella's Room. She saw the beautiful baby girl with tears in her eyes, and Elizabeth picked her up. After gathering the child into her arms Elizabeth placed her lips next to Ella's ear and tried to comfort her "shhhhhh" she said while lightly bouncing the baby on her hip. And Ella was silent, that always did the trick.

The babysitter arrived soon after Elizabeth finished feeding Ella breakfast. She proceeded to get ready for work. She stood in the bathroom, fixing her hair, and after she had it right, she walked into the bedroom, opened her jewelry box and slipped her ring on her left finger.

It was her first day back since Mark's death. She though she was ready although she knew she didn't have the proper time to grieve.

In actuality though, she had nothing to do.

Nothing to do but sit around and think about Mark. She thought that perhaps it was too soon, but soon she decided that going back to work was a good idea.

So, that's what she did.

As she walked through the doors at county general, Elizabeth swore that all eyes were on her, though much of it was just her imagination.

People did, however, regard her with looks of sorrow and small sympathetic smiles. She, of course, returned them despite the fact that it bothered her.

She made her way up to the surgical floor and checked her schedule. She didn't have much to do, but at least she would be doing something... anything to get her mind off of losing Mark.

Elizabeth went into the OR for her first surgery. It was a five year old girl with an abnormality in her stomach that needed to be taken care of. She scrubbed in with Dr. Romano, who also cast her gazes of sympathy; however, his look didn't irk her as much as those delivered by the others.

"Hi Lizzie."

"Hello Robert."

She expected him to ask how she was doing or something akin to that, however she believed that he sensed the fact that she didn't want to talk about it. Had he asked though, she would have said 'fine' despite the fact that in reality, 'fine' was nowhere near describing her current state. No, she was much worse than 'fine' would allot... much worse.

"So, you ready to do this?" He questioned.

"Yep." She replied

"all right, let's go."

The two surgeons entered the OR prepped for a routine surgery.

What they got was a harrowing experience.

Something in the surgery went dreadfully wrong; fatally wrong.

Now, a five year old girl was dead, and Elizabeth couldn't help but feel responsible. Romano assured her that it couldn't have been helped, that she was in no way responsible. Elizabeth knew, of course, inside, that he was right. The death couldn't have been prevented, but that still didn't abate the blame she placed on herself.

She walked out of the OR with tears in her eyes. She didn't expect her first day back to be like this. She felt absolutely miserable.

As she stood there feeling utterly awful, and trying to will the feeling to subside, her pager went off. 'Duty Calls' she said to herself as she wiped her wyes with the back of her hand and went downstairs to the ER.

"I was paged for a consult" she said to Jerry who pointed her towards Trauma 1.

When she entered the room no one was there. She sighed as she saw the little boy and went to pick up the medical chart. As she began reading it, the patient started crashing. She quickly yelled outside for someone to come in and help. Abby came running in as Elizabeth got the paddles ready.

"Patient's in v-tech" she stated "Charge to 100"

Abby adjusted the machine.


The shock jolted his tiny body, but there was no change.

"Charge to 200" Abby did. "Clear!"

Again, no change.

"Charge to 250! Clear!"

But there was still no change in the boy's heart rate, it wasn't beating.

"Charge to 300" Corday ordered as Carter rushed in "Clear!"

"Again! Clear!"

But there was no difference.

"Charge to 350! Clear!"


The minutes seemed like seconds as she tried desperately to save the little boy.


Not a thing.

"Again!" Corday shouted.

Abby hesitated. "How long has he been down?" Carter asked.

"30 minutes" Abby stated grimly.

"Dr. Corday..." Carter started.

"Again!! Clear!"

As the shock reverberated through the boy's body and throughout the room, there was no change in his heart rate.

"Again" Corday said.

"Dr. Corday" Carter said more firmly "That's enough" he had never seen her like this before.

She bowed her head in defeat.

"Time of death: 9:57 pm" Carter called it.

Elizabeth felt horrible. She couldn't believe it. Two patients in one day. And Elizabeth was angry at Carter, they shouldn't have stopped.

"We could have SAVED him" she shouted.

"No. We couldn't have." He said.

"Because you stopped trying!"

"No." Carter shook his head "It was over."

Elizabeth was fed up. She angrily walked out of the trauma room, slamming the door open. She ran outside into the ambulance bay as the tears began to stream down her face. She had had enough, and this... pain was just too much to bear.

"Are you happy now?!" Elizabeth shouted to the heavens. "Are you bloody happy now?!" Her anger rising, she felt completely hopeless. "I can't save anyone! Not a five year old little girl, not an eleven year old boy, not even my own bloody husband!" She spat out "Why are you so bent on TORTURING me?! Consecrated to God? CONSECRATED TO GOD???! If I'm so bloody consecrated to you God, then why do you insist on taking everything away from me?!" She was near hysterics now, and people were staring, but she didn't care, she had needed to say this for a very long time "Do you hear me??!! Why him? Why Mark?? Why not me... or... someone else? Anyone but HIM!" She sobbed "IF you're so bloody miraculous, oh mighty God... Bring him back!" She got quieter as she lowered her head, feeling powerless "God, please just bring him back." She sat down on the curb and cried uncontrollably. God didn't speak back. "Well, GOD, you can just go to HELL!!! Do you hear me?!! You can just go to hell... because that's where I am... that's where YOU PUT ME!"

Her body was wracked with sobs as she sat there on the cold streets of Chicago, as the tears rolled down her face there was a crackle in the sky, and a flash of light lit up the ambulance bay.

And as a heartbroken woman, a child of God, sat trying to ease the pain with salty tears, and abate the anger and grief that was continually mangling her heart, the heavens broke apart and heavy rain began to pour down in the city of Chicago.

God was crying too.


"Heaven knows we must never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts" – Charles Dickens.