Consequences of our Past Mistakes
RATING-PG-13 (maybe, I don't really think so, but just to be safe . . .)
SPOILERS-Season 7 to "Surrender"
FEEDBACK-Always welcome and appreciated at steph_2816@yahoo.com. Flames will be used to roast Luka and praise will be used as motivation for more stories.
DISCLAIMER-I don't own 'em. Don't sue. I'm just going to play House with them for a while. They'll be returned good as new, I promise.
SUMMARY-A Carter/Benton friendship piece. A bit cliché but still good.
AUTHOR'S NOTES-I am actually very proud of this. This is an idea I had while watching "Surrender" last week. It just sort of grew from there. Also, I'm really sorry about the delay on a new chapter to Irse Flotando. It should be out by next Tuesday. I went to see Lifehouse and 3 Doors Down on Friday and all I can say is WOW! They were really good. I liked Lifehouse so much I decided to go buy their cd the next day. I've added one of their songs to this because I think it fits well.
Damn it, he was doing so well! Why did you do it Carter? Huh? Why? Maybe it was my fault. Again. I should have paid more attention to him. God, I thought I had learned my lesson last year! It's just so frustrating! I thought I was watching out for Carter more now. Who am I kidding? I can't say that. That's just what I tell myself, so I can sleep at night. I never DID know how to be much of a friend. Carter would have gladly helped me with that. He always tried so hard to impress me and be my friend. Why didn't I ever let him in?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dr. Benton entered the lounge still thinking about what had happened earlier that day with Carter. He noticed Carter's locker was slightly ajar and knew that Carter had left hours ago. When he went to shut it for him, something fell out. It was a dark blue notebook. Dr. Benton opened it up to find some kind of journal. He knew he shouldn't, but he felt he needed to understand what made Carter do it. He gathered his belongings and headed home, journal in hand.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He opened up the door to his small East side home. Dr. Benton hung up his coat on a hook and pulled the journal out before leaning his briefcase against the wall. He was glad Cleo was working the graveyard shift tonight, because there was no doubt she wouldn't approve. I just have to know, he thought with a twinge of guilt. He opened the notebook up to the page from December 19, 2000, just a week before it happened.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
John Carter -December 19, 2000-
It's so hard. I think about it all the time. I'm ready to collapse from exhaustion since I've been on for nearly 20 hours. Dr. Greene's out sick and we're swamped. I don't think I've been this overworked since I was a surgical intern. I want them. Just a couple. Just to get through. I need them. It won't hurt anything. Oh god, what am I saying? I can't do this again. But I need something. God, please let me prevail.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Benton winced at his former pupil's description. *If only Carter would have talked to me . . . *
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
John Carter -December 20, 2000-
Damn it! I gave in. I failed. I took two Vicadin from some biker patient's belongings. Then I went in the bathroom and . . . expelled them. Afterwards, I went to Abby, gave them to her and she took me to an NA meeting together. I'm surprised Luka hasn't had my head on a golden platter yet. The looks he's been giving me could kill. I guess I can't blame him though. Abby's always having to save me. Sometimes I think she's the only one who cares if I live or die. There is no one else. I can't tell Weaver. She WOULD have my head on a golden platter. I've run out of strikes.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
John Carter -December 27, 2000-
I told Weaver. I'm just so grateful that she didn't fire me. Maybe Weaver isn't as horrible as Malucci thinks she is. She said that I couldn't prescribe level two or above narcotics and more meetings, drug tests. She says that I'm on my last warning though. Abby's said that she can't be my sponsor anymore. I understand that and respect her decision, but I don't think I'll do so good with her not around to talk to and to help me. I can't do this alone and I realize that now.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
John Carter -December 30, 2000-
Oh God. I did it again. I can't believe it. I let Dr. Benton down AGAIN. It seems I'm always doing that. I should have just told him why he couldn't talk to Weaver. He would have been disappointed in me, but maybe he would have eventually forgiven me. No chance of THAT now. Damn it! Why did I have to be so damn ignorant yet again? Dr. Benton is my mentor and I respect him more than anyone I've ever known. This feels like déjà vu of what happened that day back in May last year. I was even more messed up then than I am now. I couldn't believe he actually cared anything about what happened to me. I think he thought I was just a minor annoyance in his busy life. But I've always tried so hard to gain his respect. And to be his friend. But he always shut me out or blew me off. I thought a couple of months ago that maybe I had that. I might have gained him as a friend. But now I've fucked that up too. Damn.
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If shame had a face I think it would kind of look like mine,
If it had a home would it be my eyes?
Would you believe me if I said I'm tired of this?
Now here we go now one more time,
I tried to climb your steps,
I tried to chase you down,
I tried to see how low I could get down to the ground,
I tried to earn my way,
I tried to change this mind,
You better believe I tried to beat this,
When will it end?
This goes on and on,
Over and over and over again,
Keep spinning around,
I know that it won't stop,
Till I step down from this for good,
I never thought I'd end up here,
I never thought I'd be standing where I am,
I guess I kind of thought it would be easier than this,
I guess I was wrong now one more time,
This is a sick cycle carousel,
This is a sick cycle, yeah.
Sick Cycle Carousel
~Lifehouse~
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
Dr. Benton was close to tears. The only time he had ever cried in his adult life was when his mother had died. "What have I done to him?" Dr. Benton asked out loud. *God, Carter, I am so sorry man* Br. Benton murmured as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. Although it was 10:00 pm, he felt he couldn't wait till morning to talk to Carter.
Meanwhile, Carter had been sitting in his apartment, glued to the tv, for lack of anything better to do. He was watching some pathetic infomercial that had an overzealous man telling an all too perky blond about the advantages of having their "special" stain remover. A knock at the door interrupted his entrancement with the bleach, and he turned off the tv as he got up to answer the door. He was shocked to see Dr. Benton standing there.
Dr. Benton had been thinking of what to say on the drive over. He realized he had never really been over to Carter's new apartment, so first he had to stop by the hospital to get his address. After that, he headed over there, and after sitting in the car for a couple minutes contemplating what to do, knocked on the door, journal in hand.
"Um, hi," Carter said, an awkward silence forming between the two.
"Hey Carter," Dr. Benton said after a minute, "Uh, can I come in?"
"Yeah, sure, of course," he replied. It was then that he saw what Dr. Benton had in his hand. He followed Carter's gaze.
"Oh, yeah, um this fell out of your locker," Dr. Benton said, handing the notebook back. "I read it," Benton said, pausing, "I'm sorry."
"I never knew any of this. And I'm sorry. I guess I knew that you wanted and needed a friend, but I suppose I pushed that idea away. You aren't an annoyance to me. You never were. Even when you were an intern. I never gave you the respect you deserved though. And I DO care if you live or die. Today, Carter, I was mad, not because you relapsed. But because you didn't tell me why. And I thought that maybe if you had talked to me, it could have been prevented. I'll admit though, that I guess I'm not the most approachable person. But I do want you to know that if you ever need or want someone to talk to or hang out with, or anything, I'm always here. And I'd like to, if you'll still have me, be your friend."
Carter paused for a moment, taking it all in. Then he spoke, softly at first, "Thank you, Dr. Benton. I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
"Stop apologizing Carter," Dr. Benton said, "Say, you doing anything tomorrow night?"
"No, why?"
"Well, I was wondering if you'd have dinner with Cleo and me? You could invite Abby . . ." he said with a smile.
"Sounds great. Maybe I will ask her. Thanks."
"Good come around about 7:00 or so."
"Okay."
"Well, I better get going. It's getting late."
"Yeah, I'll see you later," Carter pause, "And thank you."
"No, thank you."
Benton left and Carter went back to his place on the couch. He felt better about his relationship with Dr. Benton than he ever had. He was his friend.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Liked it? Hated it? Want to rip out your monitor with your bare hands and beat me over the head with it? Tell me . . .
RATING-PG-13 (maybe, I don't really think so, but just to be safe . . .)
SPOILERS-Season 7 to "Surrender"
FEEDBACK-Always welcome and appreciated at steph_2816@yahoo.com. Flames will be used to roast Luka and praise will be used as motivation for more stories.
DISCLAIMER-I don't own 'em. Don't sue. I'm just going to play House with them for a while. They'll be returned good as new, I promise.
SUMMARY-A Carter/Benton friendship piece. A bit cliché but still good.
AUTHOR'S NOTES-I am actually very proud of this. This is an idea I had while watching "Surrender" last week. It just sort of grew from there. Also, I'm really sorry about the delay on a new chapter to Irse Flotando. It should be out by next Tuesday. I went to see Lifehouse and 3 Doors Down on Friday and all I can say is WOW! They were really good. I liked Lifehouse so much I decided to go buy their cd the next day. I've added one of their songs to this because I think it fits well.
Damn it, he was doing so well! Why did you do it Carter? Huh? Why? Maybe it was my fault. Again. I should have paid more attention to him. God, I thought I had learned my lesson last year! It's just so frustrating! I thought I was watching out for Carter more now. Who am I kidding? I can't say that. That's just what I tell myself, so I can sleep at night. I never DID know how to be much of a friend. Carter would have gladly helped me with that. He always tried so hard to impress me and be my friend. Why didn't I ever let him in?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dr. Benton entered the lounge still thinking about what had happened earlier that day with Carter. He noticed Carter's locker was slightly ajar and knew that Carter had left hours ago. When he went to shut it for him, something fell out. It was a dark blue notebook. Dr. Benton opened it up to find some kind of journal. He knew he shouldn't, but he felt he needed to understand what made Carter do it. He gathered his belongings and headed home, journal in hand.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He opened up the door to his small East side home. Dr. Benton hung up his coat on a hook and pulled the journal out before leaning his briefcase against the wall. He was glad Cleo was working the graveyard shift tonight, because there was no doubt she wouldn't approve. I just have to know, he thought with a twinge of guilt. He opened the notebook up to the page from December 19, 2000, just a week before it happened.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
John Carter -December 19, 2000-
It's so hard. I think about it all the time. I'm ready to collapse from exhaustion since I've been on for nearly 20 hours. Dr. Greene's out sick and we're swamped. I don't think I've been this overworked since I was a surgical intern. I want them. Just a couple. Just to get through. I need them. It won't hurt anything. Oh god, what am I saying? I can't do this again. But I need something. God, please let me prevail.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Benton winced at his former pupil's description. *If only Carter would have talked to me . . . *
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
John Carter -December 20, 2000-
Damn it! I gave in. I failed. I took two Vicadin from some biker patient's belongings. Then I went in the bathroom and . . . expelled them. Afterwards, I went to Abby, gave them to her and she took me to an NA meeting together. I'm surprised Luka hasn't had my head on a golden platter yet. The looks he's been giving me could kill. I guess I can't blame him though. Abby's always having to save me. Sometimes I think she's the only one who cares if I live or die. There is no one else. I can't tell Weaver. She WOULD have my head on a golden platter. I've run out of strikes.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
John Carter -December 27, 2000-
I told Weaver. I'm just so grateful that she didn't fire me. Maybe Weaver isn't as horrible as Malucci thinks she is. She said that I couldn't prescribe level two or above narcotics and more meetings, drug tests. She says that I'm on my last warning though. Abby's said that she can't be my sponsor anymore. I understand that and respect her decision, but I don't think I'll do so good with her not around to talk to and to help me. I can't do this alone and I realize that now.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
John Carter -December 30, 2000-
Oh God. I did it again. I can't believe it. I let Dr. Benton down AGAIN. It seems I'm always doing that. I should have just told him why he couldn't talk to Weaver. He would have been disappointed in me, but maybe he would have eventually forgiven me. No chance of THAT now. Damn it! Why did I have to be so damn ignorant yet again? Dr. Benton is my mentor and I respect him more than anyone I've ever known. This feels like déjà vu of what happened that day back in May last year. I was even more messed up then than I am now. I couldn't believe he actually cared anything about what happened to me. I think he thought I was just a minor annoyance in his busy life. But I've always tried so hard to gain his respect. And to be his friend. But he always shut me out or blew me off. I thought a couple of months ago that maybe I had that. I might have gained him as a friend. But now I've fucked that up too. Damn.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
If shame had a face I think it would kind of look like mine,
If it had a home would it be my eyes?
Would you believe me if I said I'm tired of this?
Now here we go now one more time,
I tried to climb your steps,
I tried to chase you down,
I tried to see how low I could get down to the ground,
I tried to earn my way,
I tried to change this mind,
You better believe I tried to beat this,
When will it end?
This goes on and on,
Over and over and over again,
Keep spinning around,
I know that it won't stop,
Till I step down from this for good,
I never thought I'd end up here,
I never thought I'd be standing where I am,
I guess I kind of thought it would be easier than this,
I guess I was wrong now one more time,
This is a sick cycle carousel,
This is a sick cycle, yeah.
Sick Cycle Carousel
~Lifehouse~
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
Dr. Benton was close to tears. The only time he had ever cried in his adult life was when his mother had died. "What have I done to him?" Dr. Benton asked out loud. *God, Carter, I am so sorry man* Br. Benton murmured as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. Although it was 10:00 pm, he felt he couldn't wait till morning to talk to Carter.
Meanwhile, Carter had been sitting in his apartment, glued to the tv, for lack of anything better to do. He was watching some pathetic infomercial that had an overzealous man telling an all too perky blond about the advantages of having their "special" stain remover. A knock at the door interrupted his entrancement with the bleach, and he turned off the tv as he got up to answer the door. He was shocked to see Dr. Benton standing there.
Dr. Benton had been thinking of what to say on the drive over. He realized he had never really been over to Carter's new apartment, so first he had to stop by the hospital to get his address. After that, he headed over there, and after sitting in the car for a couple minutes contemplating what to do, knocked on the door, journal in hand.
"Um, hi," Carter said, an awkward silence forming between the two.
"Hey Carter," Dr. Benton said after a minute, "Uh, can I come in?"
"Yeah, sure, of course," he replied. It was then that he saw what Dr. Benton had in his hand. He followed Carter's gaze.
"Oh, yeah, um this fell out of your locker," Dr. Benton said, handing the notebook back. "I read it," Benton said, pausing, "I'm sorry."
"I never knew any of this. And I'm sorry. I guess I knew that you wanted and needed a friend, but I suppose I pushed that idea away. You aren't an annoyance to me. You never were. Even when you were an intern. I never gave you the respect you deserved though. And I DO care if you live or die. Today, Carter, I was mad, not because you relapsed. But because you didn't tell me why. And I thought that maybe if you had talked to me, it could have been prevented. I'll admit though, that I guess I'm not the most approachable person. But I do want you to know that if you ever need or want someone to talk to or hang out with, or anything, I'm always here. And I'd like to, if you'll still have me, be your friend."
Carter paused for a moment, taking it all in. Then he spoke, softly at first, "Thank you, Dr. Benton. I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
"Stop apologizing Carter," Dr. Benton said, "Say, you doing anything tomorrow night?"
"No, why?"
"Well, I was wondering if you'd have dinner with Cleo and me? You could invite Abby . . ." he said with a smile.
"Sounds great. Maybe I will ask her. Thanks."
"Good come around about 7:00 or so."
"Okay."
"Well, I better get going. It's getting late."
"Yeah, I'll see you later," Carter pause, "And thank you."
"No, thank you."
Benton left and Carter went back to his place on the couch. He felt better about his relationship with Dr. Benton than he ever had. He was his friend.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Liked it? Hated it? Want to rip out your monitor with your bare hands and beat me over the head with it? Tell me . . .
