Oh wow. This has taken me ages to write. I am SO SORRY. I never imagined I would be given so many assignments at school. Once one is finished another is handed out, in the same class. I have 7 classes. It's practically hell. But here is the next installment, it's currently 2am (I like writing late at night) and I have finally finished chapter 7! I didn't end where I had wanted to end, but I noticed it was almost reaching 6000 words so I cut it off short. I'm on school break for the next 2 weeks, so maybe, just maybe the next update will be in the following 2 weeks. If not, then it probably won't be updated until September, when my next break is. Sorry guys. Enjoy ! :)


Chapter 7 ; My Own Prison.

~I'm standing here alone, the memories remain, the same familiar home, but nothing looks the same. I'm standing here alone, can't tell if I'm awake, reality is gone... in a dream I will escape~


"What!" Carter yelled, breaking out of Mark's gasp as he spun around quickly to be face to face with Peter Benton's stern face and Mrs Palmer's tear filled eyes. He felt as if his whole world has just came crushing down on him and the pressure was just too much for him to handle. He felt the familiar dizziness come washing back over him as he felt his head drop and his body collapse to the floor. The last thing he was aware of was Benton's voice.

"Carter!" Benton yelled as he rushed over to the young man's side, he kneeled down on the ground beside Carter's limp form. "Carter! Man, wake up?" he cupped the bottom of Carter's jaw in his palm.

"Can we get a gurney over here!" Mark shouted as he crouched down on the floor besides Dr. Benton who had now placed two fingers underneath Carter's jaw to feel for his pulse; the concerned look that was etched onto his face worried Mark. "How is it?" he questioned, the worry evident in his voice.

"It's noticeable, but it's weak." Benton sighed. "He must've really knocked his head good in that crash."

Malik arrived with a gurney a few moments later. "Is that Dr. Carter!" he gasped taking in the sight before him, Carter was sprawled out on the floor, shirt covered in speckles of blood and Benton and Mark hovering above him, he could feel the tension coming from them in waves.

"Yeah it is. Can we get a backboard over here as well!" Benton didn't feel like dealing with any questions that Malik had on the situation at the moment, as he was pretty confused on what was going on himself and the only thing he wanted to do right now was make sure that Carter was ok.

Malik rushed off to find the back board that was requested, sensing the anger in Benton's voice; he didn't want to piss him off any further. He knew that Benton considered Carter to be one of his closest friends, hell; he was pretty much the only person that he considered his friend. He remembered how distraught he had been that Valentine's Day when Carter was injured; Benton sure cared for Carter a lot. He returned and placed the back board on the floor, helping Mark and Benton position Carter onto the board, then proceeded to lift him up and place him on the gurney.

"Let's take him into Trauma 2!" Mark exclaimed, now taking control over the situation at hand.

Once they had rolled the gurney into Trauma 2, they grabbed a hold of the board and slid Carter onto the awaiting gurney. Benton had just started attaching the pulse ox when Carter awakened. Taking is his surroundings he was displeased to notice that he was in the trauma room, the next thing he noticed was a concerned looking Mark and Benton hovering above him, attaching various cords and objects to him.

"Stop!" Carter croaked out, his voice sounding like sand paper. He removed the offending device from his finger and proceeded to sit up. The whole world flipped upside down as he tried to stay sitting upright, he felt as if his head was tied to a thousand bricks and all he wanted to do was lie back down and rest his head on the soft, cushiony gurney. He didn't though; he couldn't show any weakness to Mark or Benton, that wouldn't work in his favour – he had to make them believe that everything was alright.

Bitting his lip to bite back a groan, he swung his legs off of the side of the gurney and attempted to stand up. This quick movement caused the pounding in his head to return at a horrific force and the dizziness crept back up on him, causing everything in his line of vision to swirl together and make dancing colours appear in front of him once again. He closed his eyes as tightly as he could and he willed it all to go away.

Opening his eyes again slowly he noticed that everything was now standing still, everything was now taking place in slow motion. The sounds throughout the hospital's corridors sounded like distant thumping noises, Benton's voice came out slurred and slowed down. All he could make out was his name being slurred from the surgeon's lips. He needed to get out of there, fast.

The fact that he had no car came crashing down on him; he had no way of leaving. He was trapped there, caged in. The room started to slowly spin around him; it was taunting him, showing him how bad things had escalated. His colleagues were sure to notice how bad off he was, they'd do tests on him and the results would come back and ruin his career, ruin his already breaking friendships and ruin the last little bit of his life.

"Hey Carter, it's okay. Just lie back down on the gurney." The worry was evident in Benton's voice. He placed his hand on Carter's arm, the contact made Carter feel as if he was getting burnt with a scalding hot piece of metal. It felt as if his arm was about to combust into flames. He instinctively pulled his arm out of Benton's grasp.

Nothing felt normal to him. His thoughts were racing a million miles an hour, the room kept on spinning around him, his vision kept blurring in and out of focus, he felt as if he was placed inside a sauna and the heat had been placed on the highest setting and he felt like he was going to throw up any minute now.

He doubled over and clutched tightly onto the side of the gurney with one hand, as the other wrapped protectively around his abdomen, with his stomach being empty all that he was bringing up was bile. The acidic taste lingered in his mouth as he registered an emesis basin being placed underneath his face. He shot a side ward glance in the direction that the basin had appeared from and noticed an even more now concerned looking Mark starring right back down at him.

He felt Benton approach him on the other side and lay a hand on his shoulder; the familiar burning sensation was felt almost immediately. Screwing his eyes tightly shut, he tried to block everyone and everything around him out, he focused on his breathing 'in and out' was his mantra that he would repeat inside his head.

"Carter easy now, it's all going to be ok, here lie back down on the gurney" Peter had now grabbed a hold of Carter's arm and was edging him back towards the gurney, he felt Carter try and fight back against him. "Carter don't be so damn stubborn. You need medical help, now lie down." He added a bit more pressure onto his grip and managed to get Carter to lie down. Mark was still holding the emesis basin underneath Carter's mouth in case he decided to be sick again.

Carter was completely embarrassed. He had just shown to three of his colleagues that he wasn't doing so well and he had made an idiot out of himself and thrown up in front of them. All he wanted was to crawl under a rock and forget the world. Using as much of his strength as he could he pushed aside the dizziness and fought back against Dr. Benton, he was surprised to see that he still had some strength left in him, he managed to sit himself up. "I'm fine" he practically spat out, he knew they didn't believe him, he didn't believe the words himself. "I just need to go home." He then tried again to stand up, this time more effectively than last.

"No Carter, you're not fine. There's something wrong, you've got one nasty concussion there and you need to stay here and let us check you out, run some tests, get some blood work, just see if everything is running smoothly" Mark said, adding a smile onto his face. It was so obviously forced.

Tests? Blood work? There is no way in God's name that I am letting them get any of my blood or run any tests on me. They'll find out about the Dilaudid, they'll find out I'm using again and I'll be sent back to Atlanta, to that hell of a place! There is no way I am being institutionalised again! I've got to get out here and fast.

He could feel the Dilaudid practically burning through his veins with every second that he spent sitting there "No." He realised he said that a little more hastier then he would of preferred. "I'm signing out AMA if you have a problem with that, call a lawyer, but I'm leaving." With that he pushed past Benton and headed out of the Trauma room and into the hallway, he could hear that Mark and Benton were hot on his trail, they were practically about to step on his heels.

"Carter, please. Just stay and get checked out, how do you plan on getting home? You crashed your car, remember?" Mark shouted at him like he was a child.

Of course I don't forget crashing my car, how the hell could I forget that!

"I'm not a five year old. I'm going home and you can't stop me, I'll call a bloody cab!" He turned around and shouted at them, the words just made the pounding in his head intensify but at this moment he honestly didn't care, he just wanted to leave. He stormed over to where the payphones were located, shoved his hands in his pockets and then stared blankly at the phones. "Got any change?" he turned and looked back and forth between Mark and Benton, his face was emotionless.

Mark felt his eyebrows rise at the question, after all of that he was now asking for spare change? Before he could respond he noticed Peter reach into his pockets and pull out some coins and hand them over to Carter's now outstretched hand.

"Here." Peter said, his voice equally emotionless as Carter's face.

Carter took the coins and placed them inside the payphone's slot. The sound of the machine collecting them was ringing in his ears, he felt the familiar feeling that he had before in the Trauma room start to rise up again, he couldn't have another episode like that with Mark and Benton standing behind him, he just couldn't. He took a deep breath and focused on the buttons in front of him, racking his brain for the cab company's number.

"13 ecab, so that's one double three, triple two." Benton said, sensing Carter's discomfort.

"Thanks" he half mumbled out as he pressed the buttons and heard the familiar ringing. The other end was picked up a few seconds later and a foreign voice greeted him.

"Hello?"

"I'd like a cab to County General" forgoing all greetings and getting straight to the point.

"Sure one will be there shortly"

"Thanks" he then placed the phone back on the receiver and turned around to face his friends. He came face to face with a $20 bill being shoved towards him by Benton. "Arhh.." was all Carter could say, the confusion clear on his face.

"To pay for the cab, I'm guessing you don't have any cash on you." Benton's emotions were still unreadable.

"Thanks, but I can just go inside and get some money and pay him when I arrive at my house.." Carter looked away, refusing to take the money, refusing to put himself in such a position. He didn't need any help.

"Carter just take the damn money." Benton thrust his hand towards Carter; anger was evidently starting to rise up inside of him. Why did Carter always have to be so god damn stubborn!

Sensing Dr. Benton's anger Carter reached out and took the money, he crumbled it up into a ball and shoved it into his pockets, he mumbled thanks and headed past them towards the exit. This time he was relieved to find that they weren't going to follow him, but he also felt a little saddened. They were just going to let him leave like that, he could be dying for all they know and they're just going to let him leave. Of course it was what he wanted, but it still hurt a little.

Pushing the ambulance bay doors open he stepped outside and took a breath of the cold air. It felt better than the stale air inside the ER. He could feel their eyes burning into his back, they were watching him. He debated about turning around, but he didn't want to give them that satisfaction, so he instead just stood there wishing the cab would hurry up.

A few seconds later the cab slowly drove up to the curb, those seconds seemed like hours to Carter. He couldn't bring himself to turn around and face his colleagues, so he hopped straight into the cab. He mumbled his address to the driver and faced away from the hospital, deciding to look out the window, as the cab pulled out of the hospital he watched the houses and the trees all blur together as he passed them by. Before he knew it the cab had arrived in front of his apartment complex.

"That'll be $12.30 thanks." Came the man's scruffy reply.

Carter shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the scrunched up $20 note Dr. Benton had given him, he looked down at the faded green note for a few seconds, just letting everything wash over him. He handed the note over to driver, took his change and headed towards his building.

The smell assaulted him as soon as he stepped off the elevator onto his floor. The smell of copper invaded his senses and the tangy taste lingered in his mouth; blood. He rounded the corner down the hallway to his room and he came face to face with two unmistakeable small puddles of dried blood on the carpet. He imagined Katie lying there, with Mrs. Palmer trying furiously to bring her daughter back to life, he imagined how she must of been shouting out to him for atleast a good 10 minutes, wanting him to come help her, to save her daughter's life. He didn't though, he didn't come help, he didn't save that 16 year olds life all because he was too busy being passed out on the floor. He could feel the anger start to build inside as he walked past the blood stains and jabbed his key into the lock.

He slammed the door behind him as hard as he could and tossed his keys onto the nearby table. His familiar headache had returned, he clenched his eyes tightly shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. After a few seconds had passed he reopened his eyes and the sight that greeted him caught him off guard. He was staring at a collection of smashed glass shards on his floor, looking directly above them he realised that someone had smashed his window. Heading over to where the window was he inspected the remains, there looked to be droplets of blood on the window pane and sure enough, there were more speckles of blood on the broken pieces of glass on the floor.

He cautiously turned around slowly, facing his back towards the window. He scanned his apartment for any signs of an intruder, he was relieved to find that it looked like whoever had entered his apartment was no longer there. Turning back around he looked out of the window and noticed that whoever broke in must have climbed up the fire escape. That's when it hit him, he slowly turned around facing his back towards the window again. The speckles of blood didn't just end where the glass was located, there seemed to be a faint trail of droplets leading over towards the lounge.

When he reached the lounge he felt his body go cold. He felt his face pale considerably and his hands had begun to tremor. "No" was all he managed to whisper out. "It can't be." He shakily reached his hand out to pick up the piece of paper that was lying on his coffee table, next to his overturned bottle of Dilaudid.


"John,

I am so sorry.

I had heard mum talk about you being spaced out some days because of the strong medication you took for your injuries. I researched the drugs that she told me you took, I found out that an overdose would be fatal and I realised that this was the only way that I could truly be free. I guess I'm writing this to you to apologize for using your medication and partly because my mother would never understand what I'm feeling and why I went through with this. But you, i've noticed how you act lately and how vacant your eyes look. I swear it's like looking in a mirror when I look at you. I hope you can overcome your demons John, don't be weak like I was.

Katie. "


He hadn't realised he was crying until he felt the water splash onto the piece of paper. It wasn't just any ordinary piece of paper. This was Katie's last thoughts, this was her suicide note. He wondered if she wrote anything to her mum or if he was the only one to get a glance into what Katie had been hiding. He folded the piece of paper up and slumped down into the lounge behind him, his vision resting on the overturned bottle.

This was my fault. It's my fault that she's in a coma. The gashes in her arms didn't look too deep, blood transfusions would of helped her. It was my pills that caused her to be at the brink of dying. My pills! If I never relapsed and went and got them, she wouldn't of overdosed on them! She wouldn't have been lying in that hospital bed! Dying! Her mother wouldn't have to watch her only daughter die! I just killed another person today.

"Arghh!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. He felt the sound echo throughout the abandoned apartment, the sound bouncing off the walls. He dropped his head into his palms as he felt the familiar emotion start to well up, he tried as hard as he could to hold back the tears but he ended up failing. All of the suppressed emotion came rushing out, his thoughts were racing a million miles an hour.

He took a deep breath and looked up, the overturned bottle in his direct line of sight. He felt his breath shake as an idea formed in his head. There was no way that he would be getting any sleep after tonight. He reached out and grasped onto the bottle, it felt a lot less heavier than it did previously.

It was probably because half of the contents are missing.

He brushed the though aside and peered inside the bottle. There looked to be atleast 6 or 7 pills sitting at the bottom. Without a second of hesitation he tipped the bottle upside down onto his palm. He glared at the pills, there were 7 of them. Chewing on his bottom lip he debated about what was about to happen, he could either try and get to sleep by himself, facing all of the horrible memories of today. Or he could resort to taking the pills and passing out into a blissful slumber, as if that was even debateable.

He stood up and clenched his hand into a fist, trapping the pills inside his hand as he walked over towards the kitchen. The glass he had previously used was still sitting on top of the counter. He refilled it with some tap water and headed into his bedroom. He kicked his shoes off and placed the cup and the pills on his bedside table, this time he wanted to be somewhere comfortable when he fell asleep.

Looking down at his outfit he grimaced. His shirt had speckles of blood on it from his head wound. Unconsciously he reached his hand up and felt at the wound, it still ached now and then, but it was nothing compared to the usual headaches he faced on a daily basis.

Ripping the shirt off he threw it in the corner of his room, he kicked his pants off as well and chucked them in the same direction the shirt had previously gone. Grabbing a pair of baggy tracksuit pants and an old faded black t-shirt, he quickly pulled them on. Once he was satisfied with his appearance he headed back out into the lounge room, the smashed window catching his attention immediately. He would need to call somebody in to fix that someday soon. He headed over towards his door and checked to make sure that it was locked, once he was satisfied with that he headed back towards his bedroom, making sure all the lights were off on his way.

He could feel the anticipation running through his body. He couldn't wait to get the Dilaudid back into his system. He hopped into his bed and grabbed up all of the pills, they felt like they weighed a tonne as they sat there in his palm. Picking the glass of water up with his other hand he chucked the pills into his mouth and swallowed them down all at once. Placing the glass back on the table he rolled over and clutched onto his pillow. He could feel himself start to become lightheaded and before he even realised it he was unconscious.


Strips of sunlight danced around the bedroom through the gaps in the blinds, making the room look like a jail with the black and white stripes they formed on the bed and the walls. The digital clock pronounced that it was 11:13am and that Carter had successfully slept throughout the night.

He slowly opened his eyes, waiting for his surroundings to register. He realised that he was in bed, he had slept through the night with no problems, no nightmares, no frequent tossing and turning. After the previous day's events he thought for sure that he would be presented with numerous nightmares.

"I feel.. great." He smiled to himself, his headache was gone, his dizziness was gone, he wasn't completely tired and he felt like going into work today to show his colleagues just how fine he was.

Throwing the covers off he cautiously stood up, he didn't want to rush things and be confronted with the dizziness. He was pleased to note that there was in fact no dizziness what-so-ever. He grabbed some clean clothes and headed towards his bathroom. Deciding to forgo looking into the mirror, he immediately hopped straight into the shower. The warm water rushing over his body felt great. After a few minutes he stepped out and proceeded to get dressed for work, once he was dressed he couldn't resist taking a peek into the mirror, so he turned around and glared at his reflection. His hair was still damp from the shower and was now sticking up in various directions, his face was extremely pale and the dark circles under his eyes stood out even more against his pale skin. There also seemed to be a small bruise starting to form where he had previously hit his head. This caused Carter to frown.

But he wasn't going to let that bring him down, he felt the happiest he had felt in a long time. He headed into the kitchen and decided to make himself a cup of coffee, he knew he wasn't on actually suppose to work today, but he wanted to show Mark and Benton that he was still his old self and that they had nothing to worry about. Even if he wasn't needed there he could atleast show them that he is feeling ok and that everything is back to normal. Smiling to himself he proceeded to make his coffee.

10 minutes later, coffee finished and he was heading out the door. He grabbed his phone, wallet and keys and took off towards the elevator, whistling as he went. He reached the lobby of the building when he realised that he had no way of transport. Biting back a groan he refused to let this damper his mood, he got out his phone and dialled the familiar numbers into it. After telling the cab where to pick him up from he walked outside and waited for his lift to arrive, while he was waiting he noticed that it was a sunny day today, the sun was shining and there wasn't one cloud in the sky. He felt a smile spread over his lips. He looked down his street and noticed that there were some kids outside playing in one of the yards and a man mowing his lawn in another. He never really had taken the time to observe his neighbourhood before.

The familiar vehicle was heading towards him, slowing down as it reached his residence. Getting inside the cab he asked to be taken to County General. Leaning back in the seat he smiled to himself, he had a feeling that today was going to be a good day. He couldn't explain why he was suddenly feeling more cheerful than usual, the only thing that could explain it was if the drugs were still affecting him.

Once the cab had arrived at County he handed the driver a $20 and told him to keep the change. Standing there for a few seconds, he looked up and took in the hospital's appearance. It was roughly around noon and there didn't seem to be any emergencies at the moment. Heading towards the ambulance bay doors he took a deep breath and braced himself.

There were a few people waiting in chairs, some looked to be injured while others looked to be waiting for their family member or friend. He could hear the familiar sounds echoing throughout the halls, the clang on metal and the smell of antiseptics filled his senses. He closed his eyes for a brief second, taking his surroundings in. The sound of yelling in the distance caused him to open his eyes and notice Mark and Dr. Benton arguing over something heading towards the doctor's lounge. They didn't look too happy.

Deciding to ignore that for now, he headed towards the admit desk. "Hey Chuny" he added a smile without even having to think about it.

"Carter!" she exclaimed, shocked. "What are you doing here today? Is everything okay?"

He laughed the first real laugh he had in ages. "I'm fine. I just came in today to see when I was next on and see if I could help out."

"Oh well it doesn't look like you're on until th-" Chuny was cut off as Mark slammed the door to the doctor's lounge shut and started heading towards the admit desk, he was yet to notice Carter.

"Chuny have the results on Mr. Albe- Carter?" Stopping mid sentence, he was now staring perplexed at the young doctor who was standing beside him at the admit desk. "What are you doing here?"

He sighed "Why does everybody seem to be asking that? Last I checked I had a job here." He realised he had gotten a little more defensive than he would of liked. "I'm just here to see when I'm scheduled on next and to see if I can help out." He added, giving Mark a smile as well.

"You're not on till next week, Friday at 6pm. I gave you the rest of the week off. We don't need any help today Carter, it's best if you went home. So Chuny have the results on Mr. Albertson came back yet?" Mark sternly replied to Carter, giving him a look that warned him not to push his luck.

"Not yet Mark, Luka said there was a slight problem with the –" again Chuny was stopped mid sentence. This time due to Carter.

"Next week! Why next week! I'm perfectly fine to work today, or tomorrow! I don't need a week off. I am fine." He all but yelled, adding emphasis on his last sentence. He was trying hard to keep his anger in check, who did Mark think he was!

"Carter don't argue with me. You're not on until next week and that's final. Chuny tell Luka to notify me when the results are back and to fix whatever his slight problem was." With that Mark grabbed a chart and went to collect his next patient, leaving a very angry Carter behind.

"He had a bad morning, don't take it personal" Chuny whispered.

"Why did he have a bad morning?" Turning around to face her he realised that she was no longer standing at the admit desk and was now over helping with a patient. Sighing to himself he decided that the only option he had left was to go home.

"Carter!" That voice sounded familiar, turning around he spotted Dr. Benton walking towards him. "Carter hey man what are you doing here today?"

Biting back a groan of annoyance "I just came to check when I was scheduled on next." The hostility was evident in his voice.

"Why are you so pissed?" Benton asked raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not." This time he added one of his trade mark fake smiles.

"Aw yeah." Benton knew he was lying, anyone could tell that. "Look Carter I wanted to talk to you about yesterday."

"I don't want to talk about yesterday." He tried brushing past him and heading towards the exit but Dr. Benton had grabbed a hold of his arm, stopping him from leaving.

"Carter." The warning was clear, this wasn't optional.

He sighed loudly, trying to show his unhappiness with the current situation. Benton just ignored it and gave him a slight push towards the doctor's lounge that he had just came out of.

"Here let's talk in private." Dr. Benton stood there holding the door open waiting for Carter to enter the lounge. Carter sent a glare towards him as he walked past and sat down on the sofa that was situated in the middle of the room, Benton joined him a few seconds later on the sofa.

"So would you like to explain to me what happened yesterday?" Benton asked, getting straight to the point and not trying to sugar coat anything.

A little taken back by the blunt question Carter mumbled out "You know what happened yesterday."

"Ah but no I don't. Why were you at the pharmacy yesterday?"

The pharmacy. Crap. I thought he had forgotten about that run in. Dammit of course he hadn't forgot, that's not something one just forgets.

"Why were you at the pharmacy?" Carter immediately regretted saying that. Now it looked like he had something to hide, well he did. But he didn't need Dr. Benton finding that out.

Benton raised his eyebrow. Carter was definitely hiding something and he was going to find that out. "I picked up some cold and flu tablets, my sister's sick. Now Carter why were you?"

"I got some Tylenol. I had a really bad headache." That sounded believable.

"This was before the accident wasn't it?"

"Uhh yeah. It was." Where was Benton going with this?

"So what caused the accident?"

"The other car." He replied sternly, that accident was in no way his fault.

"Why were you at Mercy?"

Before Carter got a chance to reply they were interrupted by Dave popping his head in. "Hey you two, chief wants us all to attend some seminar prevention thingo they have upstairs."

"What prevention, seminar, thingo?" Benton asked, obviously confused.

"No idea. I just got told by Jing-Mei to round you up. I think it's some suicide prevention they have going, due to the recent suicide or something along those lines, I don't know. Just go upstairs, ok?" with that he had disappeared.

"That sounds fun, but I guess I should be heading home." Carter said a little too quickly, practically bouncing from the sofa and heading towards the door. Dr. Benton was right behind him though.

"Carter wait up, I think you should come to this." Yet again was the warning in his voice, this was something else that wasn't going to be optional. "I really think you should." Dr. Benton grabbed a hold of Carter's upper arm and gave him a slight tug towards the elevators.

This was the last thing Carter wanted to do. He didn't want to hear some person rattle off the statistics of suicide and the warning signs of it. He couldn't listen to that, not after Katie, not after his own thoughts that he had. But the look in Dr. Benton's eye suggested otherwise, he was going to have to go to this seminar even if it killed him in the process. Sighing, he followed Dr. Benton towards the elevators.

Well this is going to be just wonderful. With that thought came the end to his current good mood.


Please R&R! It really does make me feel like this is actually going somewhere :)
Thanks guys, hope you enjoyed it :)