Disclaimer: I don't own any part of ER, except for my OC Cynthia. If I did, Carter wouldn't have left for 3 seasons and would've been made head of the ER. Also, no Kem or Abby relationship. Sorry Carby fans.

September 2002

The sharp pieces of wood from the splintering utility poll he was leaning against were digging into his coat's shoulder. But Carter didn't seem to care, he was too busy staring at the store across the street. The sign above the door read 'Leigheas Pharmacy' in bold, black letters. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the place seemed different somehow. Less foreboding than he remembered, less...fear-filling. Cleaner even. Then again, maybe that was his own mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he felt that way since he was cleaner since the last time he'd been there.

CLJC

The tapping rhythm of his shoes on the pavement were beating in time with his pounding heart. Which was saying something since he was a hair shy of sprinting down the sidewalk. His shift at County had ended half an hour ago, but he was too restless to go home and just sleep, even though that was all he wanted to do. He needed to move, do something more than just sit there. Plus his back was acting up again. He'd used the last of his pain meds at County when one of his more difficult patients had kicked him flat on his back. It was still sore, well, anyone's would be if it had an 8-inch butcher knife sliced into it.

A small part of his mind was telling him that if he didn't stop, he was going to have a problem on his hands. But the rest of his body was much louder and demanding than that little thought. After the incident with the patient, he'd immediately looked in the phone book for any local pharmacies and had written up a prescription for himself. It might not have been right, but it's what he needed. He scanned the stores on either side of the street, searching for the pharmacy he'd looked up and headed for the door when he'd spotted it.

The door opened with a chime to announce the entrance of a customer. The place seemed dingy to Carter. Like it was a sign that he shouldn't be there. The supposedly white walls looked gray to him. The lights flickered as if they just had enough juice in them to buzz. There was only one register since it was a small space. He could see a prescription department behind the counter, but no one seemed to be working in it at the moment. One other person was in the store. The clerk, a blonde girl, was standing just to the side of the register, hidden by a display of gum. He pushed the girl out of his mind as he quickly filled out a fake date of birth and address on the slip to match his fake name and made his way to the register. He tossed the slip on to the counter, startling the clerk with the clearing of his throat. She quickly came over and brought the script to a hidden person in the back who quickly filled it and stuffed it into a bag. The girl brought the bag back and began ringing him up. He listened to the almost soothing sound of the girl scanning the item and the clicking of the keys of the keyboard as he stared at the poster behind her head.

"Awful lot of pain meds for one guy," a gentle voice observed, breaking into his dream world. He looked back into the girl's blue eyes.

"Hm?" He answered eloquently. He saw that her hand was held out for the money to pay for his purchase. He glanced at the screen and rummaged in his pockets for the correct amount.

"150 tablets of Vicodin is an awful lot for one man," the girl said again as she typed in the amount he'd given her and caught the register draw as it popped open.

Carter just laughed darkly at her, "And what would you know about that?" He asked patronizingly.

She just shrugged her shoulders as she handed him his change and waited for the receipt to print. "You pick up a few things when you work in a pharmacy."

He gave her a hard smile as she held out his receipt, "Obviously, not many," he snarked, snatching the slip out of her hands and swiped his purchase off the counter before she could even reach for a bag. He stuffed the prescription in his pocket and briskly walked towards the door. Not even turning back when he heard a 'Have a nice day' behind him.

CLJC

Carter shook his head at the memory. That was nearly two years ago. He had gotten back on his feet and had a new 2 year chip in his pocket to prove it. Right now he needed to get medication for his Gama. Their old pharmacy had closed and Carter had offered to take care of the prescriptions since she had enough to deal with. He didn't want to get them through the hospital pharmacy. Gama didn't like hospitals. And for some reason, this place had stuck out to him. Maybe it was the place, maybe it was the girl who had caught his addiction weeks before anyone of his friends and family. He wasn't sure. All he knew was he was searching through the yellow pages for the place's number again and called in her prescriptions.

He looked both ways quickly and dashed across the street, entering the building. It did seem to have been in his head. The walls were definitely white and the lights gave a warm glow to the place. He could actually see a person working in the prescription department, and the same girl was standing at the counter, sorting through papers. He could see a little indent of concentration between her eyes, but also saw her mouthing the words of the song playing over the speakers. He tried to remain inconspicuous to not bather her, which he seemed to do very badly when he heard the words 'Can I help you' float over to him. He looked up into her eyes and saw the little light of recognition in them. He walked up to her, almost sheepishly. Unlike the last time he'd been there, he'd taken notice to the fact that she was extremely pretty. "I didn't want to bother you," he explained lamely.

"It's my job to be bothered," she assured him as she tucked her wavy blonde hair behind her ear. Carter's eyes lingered a little too long, causing the girl to clear her throat. "Can I help you?" She repeated.

"Uh, yeah," he stuttered, "I'm picking up some prescriptions for Millicent Carter."

"Millicent Carter," she mumbled to herself as she turned her back, searching through the prescription bins behind her. "So, haven't seen you in here in a while," she called to him, her back still turned. He laughed nervously, she seemed to have an excellent memory.

"Yeah, been getting my life back together," he rubbed his neck, still a little embarrassed about the way he'd acted last time. She turned back to him with a giant wad of prescription bags rubber-banded together. Gama was on a strict pill diet on orders of her home care giver.

"How have the meetings been going?" She asked causally, scanning the the bar codes on the bags.

"Pretty well actually, b-" he stopped in surprise, considering her words, "How did you know about the meetings?"

She paused in her scanning to dig around in pocket before producing a chip exactly like the one he currently had in his pocket, "Been clean for 3 years. I see you all time at the meetings." She went back to scanning as he examined the chip.

"You were a drug addict?" Carter asked with disbelief.

"Pain killers, just like you," she nodded. He watched her a minute, a bemused look on his face, before he stuck out his hand brusquely.

"John Carter," he stammered out. She smiled at his hand and took it gently, shaking it.

"Cynthia Leigheas," she introduced before going back to scanning.

"Leigheas? As in..." he pointed vaguely to the sign above the door. Cynthia nodded.

"The owner's my uncle," she tapped a couple keys, making the transaction go through. They stayed in silence for a moment longer while a question nagged at Carter.

"I just have to ask, if you were a Narcotic addict, why are you working in a pharmacy?" He asked, cringing a little that he's asked about a sensitive subject. She only giggled.

"It's simple really – Cash or Charge?" She asked in the middle of her sentence. He looked at her for a second before realizing she was asking how he would like to pay.

"Oh! Uh, check actually," she smiled as he pulled out his checkbook from his coat pocket. He began filling out the check as she went to the task of bagging.

"To answer your question, it's a deal I have with my uncle. I work in the pharmacy and he pays for med school." Carter's hand messed up the H in 'Leigheas' when he heard that.

"You're studying to be a doctor?" Surprise in his voice, continuing to sign the check.

"A Psychiatrist," she corrected proudly, finishing the bagging. Carter ripped the check out of his book and was about to ask another question when they were interrupted.

"Thia!" A man's voice called from the prescription department.

Cynthia, 'Thia' apparently, rolled her eyes a little before turning slightly, "Yeah!" She yelled back.

"We need more bottles back here!"

"Kay!" She turned back to Carter who had an amused face on.

"Thia?"

"It's just something my friends and family call me," she blushed a little as she plucked the check out of his hand.

"Can I call you that?" He asked mischievously. Thia appraised him for a second before answering.

"We'll see," she winked at him before marking the check and placing it in the draw. "But you, Mr. Carter-"

"Doctor Carter," he corrected with a grin. She nodded at him with an impressed look to concede.

"Dr. Carter, you never answered my question. How is your recovery going?"

He laughed at her back track, "I'm doing pretty well. I almost relapsed a few months after rehab. But I didn't let the drug get in my system."

"What stopped you?" She asked curiously.

"My work," he answered, "I love my job and I worked too hard to get it back. I didn't want to lose it all again." He was surprised when he felt a hand squeeze his own. He looked down and found their hands intertwined.

"You did better than me," Thia admitted, "I mean a few months, you still have the urge. I almost relapsed a whole year after my rehab." It was his turn to squeeze her hand.

"What stopped you?" Carter echoed her question from moments before. She laughed a little hollowly.

"You, actually."

CLJC

She caressed the pill bottle in her hands. Its smooth surface enticing her in to just tip it ever so slightly and let the tiny white tablets fall into her hands. He uncle was too busy checking in the order. He wouldn't find out and take away her med school money. That was another part of the deal. Work in the pharmacy and no drugs and he would pay her tuition.

She didn't even know how she'd gotten there. One minute she was re-stocking shelves and the next she stood behind the counter with the lid off a bottle of Valium, just staring at it. It hadn't been a conscious plan. It just seemed like instinct, he body was use to this movement. Her mind was the only hindrance. It was screaming at her to put the bottle down and walk away. 6 measly little pills and a 4 hour high were not worth throwing away her dream.

She'd sworn two things on the day of her mother's overdose. 1. She'd pledge her life to helping those who were to trapped in their own minds to help themselves. The ones that couldn't control themselves. And 2. To never succumb to drugs. And her she was, letting drugs rule her life. A little thing like a chemical reaction inside her body was her overwhelming thought.

But no matter how hard her mind shouted, her hand was slowly tipping the bottle and her other hand was cupping to catch the tablets.

The clearing of a throat startled her and nearly made her throw the bottle across the room. She glanced over and saw a brown-haired man standing at the register waiting. She'd been so wrapped up in her world that she hadn't even noticed the door chime. She set the bottle down and took a deep breath before heading over to the customer.

She took in his appearance as she ran the script to her ankle. His hair, which seemed to have been cut in a way that could easily be made to look structurally tousled, was sticking out everywhere and he seriously needed a shave if the stubble on his cheeks and chin were indicators. He was blinking rapidly and his eye lids were closing over glassy orbs, not really focusing on anything. She noticed his fingers were unconsciously tapping out a rhythm on the counter and he was excessively licking his lips as she brought the script back and started checking him out.

He was an addict. Judging also by the 150 tablets of Vicodin she was currently scanning. "Awful lot of pain meds for one guy," she told him. She didn't know why she'd said it, it wasn't like she could talk. But she'd seen that looking in her own eyes and it almost broke her heart to see it in another's.

The guy seemed to not have heard her but he did place a $50 bill in her hand, "150 tablets of Vicodin is an awful lot for one man," she said again, her mind drifting to when she'd managed to change her prescription from 9 pills to 90 without anyone asking questions. She popped open the draw and made the change he was owed.

"And what would you know about that?" He asked patronizingly after a dark laugh. She almost felt like laughing herself. If only he knew. Her hand hovered over the receipt printer as she went with the safe answer. Some people didn't take too kindly to drug addicts handling their medication.

"You pick up a few things when you work in a pharmacy." She held up the man's receipt. He sneered at her.

"Obviously, not many." She felt the paper slip through her fingers as he snatched it and the crinkling of paper came as he shoved the script in his pocket.

"Have a nice day," she called to him, but he was out the door before she even finished her sentence. She sighed out praying to anyone who might be listening that he would find help somewhere. She went back behind the gum and eyed the bottle from before.

With out even thinking she pulled the trash can out from under the counter and swiped the bottle inside. She replaced the bag with a new one and threw the old one out back. If her career wasn't incentive enough, that man right there was another complete reason she should and would never touch another pill bottle.

Now, she had some magazines to 'sort' through.

CLJC

Carter stared back at her with wide eyes. While that day had been a significant one for him, he never imagined he'd made such an impact on another person. He took in the blonde girl in front of him. She just seemed to be glowing, like nothing terrible could ever harm her. But here she was telling him about a battle that she fought everyday and not only that, but a battle he also shared in.

She looked embarrassingly through her bangs at him with a small smile, "I think a thank you is the cards."

Carter smiled at her, "You're welcome." He saw that his Gama's prescriptions were packed up and paid for, but he didn't want to leave. "How'd you get hooked on pain meds in the first place?" He asked, wanting to keep the conversation going not even realizing he could be entering dangerous waters.

She sighed out with a shake of her head, "It was a stupid reason. My fiance was a pharmacist and lets just say, our relationship was less than rosy. I found out he was screwing the tech that worked with him. But I was afraid that if I left that...no one would ever want me like that again. So I stayed and hit the pills to keep myself quiet. It was the easiest thing to steal in our house. He had a regular prescription going for Vicodin and he rarely counted the pills. But then, one day, he told me he was leaving me because, and I quote, 'He knew about the pills and I had turned into a terrible person with my drug addiction.' And he ended up leaving me for the tech. They now living unhappily ever after over in Indiana with him so drunk he doesn't know where the heck he is most of the time and her shaking up with the cable guy." He saw a little devilish smile grace her lips and he had to be honest. It was hot. "But him leaving tipped me over the edge. My uncle found me in the alleyway behind the pharmacy and helped me back on my feet. He paid for my rehab and promised not to tell me dad. And thus, the deal was born." She held her arms out a little in a 'Tada' fashion. He laughed at her little. At least she was honest.

"That sounds pretty messed up," she nodded along with him. He glanced down at his watch and saw that Gama would be looking for him since it had been almost an hour since he'd left the house, "I should get going." She nodded, a little sadness in her eyes. He gathered up the bag and turned to walk out the door, but he stopped halfway.

He thought back to Abby and Susan. Abby, even though she and Luka were done (he thought), she was still hung up on him. Plus, he did NOT want to be rebound guy. And with Susan? There just wasn't that...spark that he'd felt when he was younger. It was like they were dating because it was musical chairs and they were the last two standing. It felt too forced and it wasn't fair to either of them to act like they were holding each other back by not letting the other be free. He turned around, determined to ask her when the phone rang.

"Leigheas Pharmacy, Cynthia speaking. How can I help you?" She answered smoothly. Carter looked sorrowfully at her and taking a deep breath, so much in asking her. But, before he could turn, she slid a paper towards him, winking at him, and getting back to the conversation on the phone. He picked it up off the counter and read the 5 short lines.

8 PM

My place

256 Manchester Street Apt 3B

We can talk more

Bring wine

He smiled down at the note and looked up at her animatedly talking to the customer on the phone. He laughed and left the pharmacy with 'Whoop!' a soon as he hit the pavement. He had wine shopping to do.

A/N: Hello ER Fan Fiction world. This is my first fanfic of a different show. As you'll see on my profile, I have two stories all ready out and published. And for those that follow me as an author, I have not abandoned my Secrets of a Companion story. It's my baby, we're just having some fussing problems. My computer is up an running which is a good thing since last week I had nothing. But about my new story.

I've been watching ER since the end of June and I'm on about season 13. So, I've been going through Carter withdraw and I need something for it. So I've been fiddling around with this for a few weeks and have about 5 chapters written out of (I'm thinking) 11. Hopefully I'll be posting about once a week, but with school starting up and this being my senior year of high school, no promises. I'll try my best :-)

My OC Cynthia I picture to look like Ana Sophia Robb, of course older at about 26. You'll be getting more background on her in future chapters. Hope you like her, I do :-)

So let me know what you think. But no flames or unreasonable critiques. They just...don't help at all.

Read, review, and happy back to school!