Lullabies and Nightmares
Part Eight
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But my dreams they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The vomiting came in two minute intervals. The chills and sweating were constant and the fever wasn't breaking anytime soon. The nervousness was the worst though. For as long as she could remember she always felt nervous, but it was never as bad as this. She couldn't sit still, yet she couldn't move either. Every time she tried she ended up hunched over the toilet or curled up in a ball on the floor. The room would spin for a few minutes and next thing she knew she'd have soiled herself.
So this was the withdrawal she'd always heard about. She'd seen it a few times while visiting her dad at the hospital. But it never seemed this bad. Just like a bad case of the flu, which she'd survived before. But this was scary. She wasn't sure she'd survive this. At least without something to get her through.
Something of the narcotic family anyway.
But Carter refused to let her have anything. She really hated him. She wanted him to leave her alone. Yet every time he did she ended up calling him right back. Pleading with him not to let her die alone. Because she was dying. It was the worst possible death she could imagine.
"Shh...you're not dying..." Carter tried to reassure her for the twentieth time that afternoon. He placed a new washcloth on her forehead and smoothed her hair back.
"Yes I am." She moaned. She grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly. "Please just kill me. Just make it stop!"
Carter looked away for a moment. "I'm working on it. Just try to get some sleep Rachel." He turned and walked towards the kitchen area. She followed him with her eyes are far as she could and then finally closed them. The demons came out again, haunting and mocking her. They told her she was a bad person and not worthy of love or kindness like this man was giving her.
Before she knew it she was screaming. Carter was back, holding her and trying to calm her. She fought against his hold with all the strength her body had, but eventually gave into it. She cried for another hour, asked him to kill her again, and finally fell asleep.
Her dreams were filled with monsters and witches. They cackled and screamed in her head until she could barely take it. They pushed her back and forth and back again until she didn't know where she belonged anymore. She belonged no where, and no one wanted her. She had to face her life, and take the pain without a shield. It was the hardest thing she had ever done.
Including watching her father die.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance that's never free
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Rachel finally fell asleep, Carter relaxed. He laid her down on the king sized bed and headed into the other room. He cleaned up the bathroom as best he could, tossing soiled wash clothes and towels into the hamper and washing the floor down a couple of times.
Then he headed into the kitchen. He grabbed the dust pale and broom and knelt down on the floor. He proceeded to clean up the pile of glass that had once been a coffee mug. During one of her fits of anger Rachel had thrown the mug, full of tea, against the wall. She'd missed his head by two inches.
Seemed Rachel hadn't inherited her fathers excellent aim.
Once he had the pale completely filled he crawled over to the garbage can and dumped the mess inside. He then put the supplies back in their proper place and stopped. It occurred to him that he didn't know what to do now. There was nothing to clean up. There was nothing to wash or dry or refill or cook.
He was completely useless.
With this new realization at hand, he collapsed against the counter top. He tried holding back the tears, but failed. They streamed down onto the clean counter and soaked his sweater. He rubbed his hands across his face and head and tried to control himself. He had to stay in control. He was the only one in control now. Rachel needed him now more then ever before. He was convinced that he was the only one who could really help her.
But what if he couldn't? What if once Rachel could walk and function again she ran straight for the streets? What if she went to find her dealer? He wasn't sure he could take it if she did. Yet, he knew the odds of it not happening and they were nothing to count on.
He came to a conclusion the very moment the tears stopped. He was looking at his empty kitchen table, and came to a conclusion. He needed help. He didn't have to do this alone. Rachel needed him, but he needed somebody too.
He picked up the phone and dialed a quick number. He waited until a familiar voice picked up.
"Abby. Its Carter."
"Carter? Are you ok?"
"Yea...uh...yea I'm fine. I, uh, need you though. I need you to come over Abby."
A moment of silence.
"Carter...what's going on?"
"Rachel Greene is at my apartment. I'm trying to detox her but I need some help. Could you please help me Abby?"
"Rachel? Of course Carter. I'll leave right away."
He hung up the phone and bit his lip. He hoped he had done the right thing. He hoped Rachel would trust Abby enough to let her help.
His thoughts were broken by the intense screaming coming from the bedroom. He bolted down the hallway, praying that help would come soon.
TBC
Part Eight
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But my dreams they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The vomiting came in two minute intervals. The chills and sweating were constant and the fever wasn't breaking anytime soon. The nervousness was the worst though. For as long as she could remember she always felt nervous, but it was never as bad as this. She couldn't sit still, yet she couldn't move either. Every time she tried she ended up hunched over the toilet or curled up in a ball on the floor. The room would spin for a few minutes and next thing she knew she'd have soiled herself.
So this was the withdrawal she'd always heard about. She'd seen it a few times while visiting her dad at the hospital. But it never seemed this bad. Just like a bad case of the flu, which she'd survived before. But this was scary. She wasn't sure she'd survive this. At least without something to get her through.
Something of the narcotic family anyway.
But Carter refused to let her have anything. She really hated him. She wanted him to leave her alone. Yet every time he did she ended up calling him right back. Pleading with him not to let her die alone. Because she was dying. It was the worst possible death she could imagine.
"Shh...you're not dying..." Carter tried to reassure her for the twentieth time that afternoon. He placed a new washcloth on her forehead and smoothed her hair back.
"Yes I am." She moaned. She grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly. "Please just kill me. Just make it stop!"
Carter looked away for a moment. "I'm working on it. Just try to get some sleep Rachel." He turned and walked towards the kitchen area. She followed him with her eyes are far as she could and then finally closed them. The demons came out again, haunting and mocking her. They told her she was a bad person and not worthy of love or kindness like this man was giving her.
Before she knew it she was screaming. Carter was back, holding her and trying to calm her. She fought against his hold with all the strength her body had, but eventually gave into it. She cried for another hour, asked him to kill her again, and finally fell asleep.
Her dreams were filled with monsters and witches. They cackled and screamed in her head until she could barely take it. They pushed her back and forth and back again until she didn't know where she belonged anymore. She belonged no where, and no one wanted her. She had to face her life, and take the pain without a shield. It was the hardest thing she had ever done.
Including watching her father die.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance that's never free
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Rachel finally fell asleep, Carter relaxed. He laid her down on the king sized bed and headed into the other room. He cleaned up the bathroom as best he could, tossing soiled wash clothes and towels into the hamper and washing the floor down a couple of times.
Then he headed into the kitchen. He grabbed the dust pale and broom and knelt down on the floor. He proceeded to clean up the pile of glass that had once been a coffee mug. During one of her fits of anger Rachel had thrown the mug, full of tea, against the wall. She'd missed his head by two inches.
Seemed Rachel hadn't inherited her fathers excellent aim.
Once he had the pale completely filled he crawled over to the garbage can and dumped the mess inside. He then put the supplies back in their proper place and stopped. It occurred to him that he didn't know what to do now. There was nothing to clean up. There was nothing to wash or dry or refill or cook.
He was completely useless.
With this new realization at hand, he collapsed against the counter top. He tried holding back the tears, but failed. They streamed down onto the clean counter and soaked his sweater. He rubbed his hands across his face and head and tried to control himself. He had to stay in control. He was the only one in control now. Rachel needed him now more then ever before. He was convinced that he was the only one who could really help her.
But what if he couldn't? What if once Rachel could walk and function again she ran straight for the streets? What if she went to find her dealer? He wasn't sure he could take it if she did. Yet, he knew the odds of it not happening and they were nothing to count on.
He came to a conclusion the very moment the tears stopped. He was looking at his empty kitchen table, and came to a conclusion. He needed help. He didn't have to do this alone. Rachel needed him, but he needed somebody too.
He picked up the phone and dialed a quick number. He waited until a familiar voice picked up.
"Abby. Its Carter."
"Carter? Are you ok?"
"Yea...uh...yea I'm fine. I, uh, need you though. I need you to come over Abby."
A moment of silence.
"Carter...what's going on?"
"Rachel Greene is at my apartment. I'm trying to detox her but I need some help. Could you please help me Abby?"
"Rachel? Of course Carter. I'll leave right away."
He hung up the phone and bit his lip. He hoped he had done the right thing. He hoped Rachel would trust Abby enough to let her help.
His thoughts were broken by the intense screaming coming from the bedroom. He bolted down the hallway, praying that help would come soon.
TBC