I agree. Too much angst. I despise writing, angst really. But, ER comes with angst, baby.
Don't worry. I usually throw stuff that I don't like in the trash. ;)
Get rid of it!
--
Carter rushed from the car he'd hastily parked to the paved lot. It was nearly empty. Only scattered with a group of gossiping nurses and a doctor taking a break for a cigarette.
He bowed his head and unwillingly stepped into the ER. The doors slid open at his unspoken request and closed again behind him. His dampened soles of his shoes made tight noises against the tile, turning a few ears his way. He ignored the thought and continued to the lounge.
"Carter!" Weaver shouted, while limping his way. "We've got two GSWs, one DOA - "
"I'm not on until seven," he barked. "Which is in," he glanced at his watch while he still shuffled to the door, "ten minutes."
"Once you step into those doors, you're ours," she yelled back. "Get out here, now!"
He sighed aloud and threw his bag into the lounge, mindlessly without aim. The door swung to a shut and he ran to join the clan in the ambulance bay.
A paramedic joined his team at the side of the gurney. Listing a score of complications and details, he kept himself tuned in, but had to blink a few times to rid of exhaustion. Of frustration.
They burst threw the pair of doors in trauma two. Susan accompanied them and informed them of immediate instructions.
"You okay Carter?" she asked, throwing commands at the nurses and Pratt. "You look a little edgy."
"Leave it alone, Dr. Lewis," Pratt said.
"Shut up, Pratt," Carter muttered.
Susan, Pratt and Chuny looked up then around to each other.
Susan nodded, "I think I'll take Pratt's advice."
Carter looked back up at her with prying eyes, but she wasn't to be taken away from her work now. She kept up with her expertise in the procedure, and soon their shouts through chaos were hushed by a better recognition: a steady heart monitor.
"Stable," Pratt called.
"Thank God," Carter murmured, throwing his gloves into the trash abruptly. He stormed to the other side of the room and used two hands to push the doors open. As hard as he could, and into the lobby once again.
He ran into Abby right away. They collided, brought their heads up and realized.
"Sorry," he said, pushing past her. He brushed against her shoulder, but didn't take anything to it. He tried not to think of it. He'd been trying not to think of her.
He made his way past the desk, and began toward the cafeteria. Hopefully, some appalling and rather cold coffee would do the trick.
"Carter," Chuny called across the counter.
He held up a hand with a strong, but drawn smile. "No way, Chuny. I'm not on yet."
"Its 6:59, Carter," she said, annoyed. "Weaver's pissed."
"Screw Weaver," he said. "I have one minute."
"It's seven now!" Jerry said, as Carter quickened his pace to the cafeteria. He whipped around and looked at them straight in the eye.
It caught the attention of many at the desk, including nearly every nurse and a few doctors. They all stopped to watch him.
"I need a break," he said. "You've got more than enough people here. Use them. Leave me alone, because I feel like I'm about to explode."
"What's the problem, Dr. Carter?" Weaver said, coming to the desk.
"Carter needs a break," Haleh said.
Carter shot her a glare, which he ignored. Abby suddenly walked past him, took a chart from the desk and walked to an exam room to join Susan with a patient. He watched her walk, but corrected himself with a turn of his head back to an upset Weaver.
"We all could use a break," she said, "I've heard that story. Everyone just deal with it, get back to work. If you don't want to be here, go home. Just don't plan on coming back tomorrow."
Carter nodded. "Will do," he said angrily, heading back to the lounge. There were a few odd, questioning gasps as he came back to collect his things.
"Carter!" Weaver cried. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm getting out of here," he said. He picked up his bag that he'd thrown to the floor just ten minutes before and brought his locker open. A crowd had gathered outside the door, despite Weaver's "get back to work" comment to them. She slid into the room and stood next to him.
"What are you talking about?" she asked. "Carter, you know as well as I do that when the ER is as busy as it is today, we cannot afford to do without staff - "
"It's not that," he said. "I have to leave."
She stared at him. "Well," she managed, "why?"
"Because I can't spend another day in Chicago," he said, shoving things into his bag.
"Wait," she said, reaching out to stop him. He shook away from her grasp. "You're leaving Chicago?"
"Yes," he said.
"Why?"
He didn't answer.
"I didn't mean what I said back there, Carter," she reasoned gently. She was trying to pull him back. "Its obvious that you've been a little stressed lately. From what I don't know - "
He nodded with a fake smile.
"Please, Carter," she said. "Take your break. Take as much time as you need. No one wants you out of here."
"*I* want myself out of here," he said with a raise of his eyebrows. "I need to leave."
"Is that really what you want?" she asked.
Was it? Everything always came back to him. There was everything to consider.
The patients, whose lives he would fight to save everyday. Of every age. The people he got to see everyday. The gossiping at the desk, the angered commands from Weaver that still made him smile. Abby smiling at him whenever he managed to pull someone through in a trauma... When it was just the two of them at night...
He nodded, tight-lipped.
"What brought this on?" she asked, searching his reply as he began.
"Change of plans," he said, shrugging.
"Carter," she said, but it wasn't worth it. Carter had slammed his locker shut and turned around to see the nurses still standing in the doorway.
He picked up his things and started to the door, ignorantly pushed through them.
"Carter," Weaver repeated as he left the doors. "Carter!"
He veered around the corner, threw his things against the wall. Out of sight from the rest of them, he sat down on the bare ground and put his head in his knees.
When he looked up, Abby was standing there across the lot. He didn't want to look at her, but he did anyway. Her eyes were sad, from what he could tell from so far away. She started walking toward him.
He froze. He was too angered with their situation.
She slowly sat down next to him, testing his reaction. He remained quiet.
"Hey," she said quietly.
"What do you want, Abby?"
She looked down then out to where he was staring. Nowhere.
"I heard what you said to Weaver - "
"I think everyone did," he said sternly.
She looked down, again, and once more out to the nowhere. She sighed and curled her hair behind her ears. Hands tied together, she held them against her chest then back to across her knees.
"No one wants you to leave," she whispered roughly.
"I'm not leaving because of that," he threw back.
She nodded. "I know."
He didn't turn his head. He didn't want to look at her.
"Why are you out here?"
She ignored him and sighed again. "Are you really leaving?"
He shrugged. "I should - "
"Please don't," she said. She bent her head and sniffed, the cold getting to her in only her scrubs. "I don't want you to."
"There's no reason - "
"There's every reason," she said. She looked up at his eyes now and touched his face softly. "Please." Her eyes were cautiously traced with tears.
He stared back at her. He knew, in reality, he didn't want her to cry. Not for him. Not because of him.
"Why do you want me to stay?" he asked turning away. "We're not going anywhere - "
"I need you here," she choked. "I don't want to be here if without you." She cried on, a first brave tear running down her cheek.
As much as he wanted to stop that tear before it hit the ground, he reluctantly kept his hand on the back of his neck. He watched it fall, fall to the ground.
He'd lost one chance.
"Really?" he asked. "Because your opinion was slightly different just one week ago."
"So was yours," she whispered. "But you realized something, didn't you?"
He shook his head. "I can't stay here, because this isn't for you?"
She sniffed again and cried, "What isn't? Your career, your friends?" She choked again, then whispered, "Me?"
He stood up and took his bag to one hand. He watched as she stood up, a frown on her face, joining every tear.
"Please," she whimpered. "Please don't leave, John. Please don't."
He looked at her.
"Please," she begged on. "You have to stay here."
He leaned in to kiss her forehead. She cried even harder as he did so, then put her hands on his neck, then his cheeks.
"I can't be here with you," he said, still angered. "I can't do this with someone - "
"John," she pleaded. "Don't do this. Why are you doing this?"
"I don't know, honestly," he said. "But I figure you fit into the equation somehow."
She cried harder as he turned around. She called out his name once, then once again. He attempted to block every sound, every cry from her. But they would never depart from his memory, his mind, or his heart. She was with him forever.
But he didn't want it to be that way.
But, then again, he did.
--
Confusing? Or just stupid?
As I looked back on this before I prepared it for a chapter, I realized it has, like, a dozen traces of "The Storm - Part Two" D/C scenes in it. I swear, it was not supposed to turn out that way. I hadn't even seen the episode when I wrote this. But this is the way I wanted it to be, so don't call me a copycat. ;) Truthfully, I didn't mean to do it that way. I added some more to it, hopefully to make it less like Doug leaving Carol. (It hurts me to say that, still! Any Carby was a D/C fan... right?)
Things will get straightened out. There's always a happy ending in my fics. You know that!
-me
Don't worry. I usually throw stuff that I don't like in the trash. ;)
Get rid of it!
--
Carter rushed from the car he'd hastily parked to the paved lot. It was nearly empty. Only scattered with a group of gossiping nurses and a doctor taking a break for a cigarette.
He bowed his head and unwillingly stepped into the ER. The doors slid open at his unspoken request and closed again behind him. His dampened soles of his shoes made tight noises against the tile, turning a few ears his way. He ignored the thought and continued to the lounge.
"Carter!" Weaver shouted, while limping his way. "We've got two GSWs, one DOA - "
"I'm not on until seven," he barked. "Which is in," he glanced at his watch while he still shuffled to the door, "ten minutes."
"Once you step into those doors, you're ours," she yelled back. "Get out here, now!"
He sighed aloud and threw his bag into the lounge, mindlessly without aim. The door swung to a shut and he ran to join the clan in the ambulance bay.
A paramedic joined his team at the side of the gurney. Listing a score of complications and details, he kept himself tuned in, but had to blink a few times to rid of exhaustion. Of frustration.
They burst threw the pair of doors in trauma two. Susan accompanied them and informed them of immediate instructions.
"You okay Carter?" she asked, throwing commands at the nurses and Pratt. "You look a little edgy."
"Leave it alone, Dr. Lewis," Pratt said.
"Shut up, Pratt," Carter muttered.
Susan, Pratt and Chuny looked up then around to each other.
Susan nodded, "I think I'll take Pratt's advice."
Carter looked back up at her with prying eyes, but she wasn't to be taken away from her work now. She kept up with her expertise in the procedure, and soon their shouts through chaos were hushed by a better recognition: a steady heart monitor.
"Stable," Pratt called.
"Thank God," Carter murmured, throwing his gloves into the trash abruptly. He stormed to the other side of the room and used two hands to push the doors open. As hard as he could, and into the lobby once again.
He ran into Abby right away. They collided, brought their heads up and realized.
"Sorry," he said, pushing past her. He brushed against her shoulder, but didn't take anything to it. He tried not to think of it. He'd been trying not to think of her.
He made his way past the desk, and began toward the cafeteria. Hopefully, some appalling and rather cold coffee would do the trick.
"Carter," Chuny called across the counter.
He held up a hand with a strong, but drawn smile. "No way, Chuny. I'm not on yet."
"Its 6:59, Carter," she said, annoyed. "Weaver's pissed."
"Screw Weaver," he said. "I have one minute."
"It's seven now!" Jerry said, as Carter quickened his pace to the cafeteria. He whipped around and looked at them straight in the eye.
It caught the attention of many at the desk, including nearly every nurse and a few doctors. They all stopped to watch him.
"I need a break," he said. "You've got more than enough people here. Use them. Leave me alone, because I feel like I'm about to explode."
"What's the problem, Dr. Carter?" Weaver said, coming to the desk.
"Carter needs a break," Haleh said.
Carter shot her a glare, which he ignored. Abby suddenly walked past him, took a chart from the desk and walked to an exam room to join Susan with a patient. He watched her walk, but corrected himself with a turn of his head back to an upset Weaver.
"We all could use a break," she said, "I've heard that story. Everyone just deal with it, get back to work. If you don't want to be here, go home. Just don't plan on coming back tomorrow."
Carter nodded. "Will do," he said angrily, heading back to the lounge. There were a few odd, questioning gasps as he came back to collect his things.
"Carter!" Weaver cried. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm getting out of here," he said. He picked up his bag that he'd thrown to the floor just ten minutes before and brought his locker open. A crowd had gathered outside the door, despite Weaver's "get back to work" comment to them. She slid into the room and stood next to him.
"What are you talking about?" she asked. "Carter, you know as well as I do that when the ER is as busy as it is today, we cannot afford to do without staff - "
"It's not that," he said. "I have to leave."
She stared at him. "Well," she managed, "why?"
"Because I can't spend another day in Chicago," he said, shoving things into his bag.
"Wait," she said, reaching out to stop him. He shook away from her grasp. "You're leaving Chicago?"
"Yes," he said.
"Why?"
He didn't answer.
"I didn't mean what I said back there, Carter," she reasoned gently. She was trying to pull him back. "Its obvious that you've been a little stressed lately. From what I don't know - "
He nodded with a fake smile.
"Please, Carter," she said. "Take your break. Take as much time as you need. No one wants you out of here."
"*I* want myself out of here," he said with a raise of his eyebrows. "I need to leave."
"Is that really what you want?" she asked.
Was it? Everything always came back to him. There was everything to consider.
The patients, whose lives he would fight to save everyday. Of every age. The people he got to see everyday. The gossiping at the desk, the angered commands from Weaver that still made him smile. Abby smiling at him whenever he managed to pull someone through in a trauma... When it was just the two of them at night...
He nodded, tight-lipped.
"What brought this on?" she asked, searching his reply as he began.
"Change of plans," he said, shrugging.
"Carter," she said, but it wasn't worth it. Carter had slammed his locker shut and turned around to see the nurses still standing in the doorway.
He picked up his things and started to the door, ignorantly pushed through them.
"Carter," Weaver repeated as he left the doors. "Carter!"
He veered around the corner, threw his things against the wall. Out of sight from the rest of them, he sat down on the bare ground and put his head in his knees.
When he looked up, Abby was standing there across the lot. He didn't want to look at her, but he did anyway. Her eyes were sad, from what he could tell from so far away. She started walking toward him.
He froze. He was too angered with their situation.
She slowly sat down next to him, testing his reaction. He remained quiet.
"Hey," she said quietly.
"What do you want, Abby?"
She looked down then out to where he was staring. Nowhere.
"I heard what you said to Weaver - "
"I think everyone did," he said sternly.
She looked down, again, and once more out to the nowhere. She sighed and curled her hair behind her ears. Hands tied together, she held them against her chest then back to across her knees.
"No one wants you to leave," she whispered roughly.
"I'm not leaving because of that," he threw back.
She nodded. "I know."
He didn't turn his head. He didn't want to look at her.
"Why are you out here?"
She ignored him and sighed again. "Are you really leaving?"
He shrugged. "I should - "
"Please don't," she said. She bent her head and sniffed, the cold getting to her in only her scrubs. "I don't want you to."
"There's no reason - "
"There's every reason," she said. She looked up at his eyes now and touched his face softly. "Please." Her eyes were cautiously traced with tears.
He stared back at her. He knew, in reality, he didn't want her to cry. Not for him. Not because of him.
"Why do you want me to stay?" he asked turning away. "We're not going anywhere - "
"I need you here," she choked. "I don't want to be here if without you." She cried on, a first brave tear running down her cheek.
As much as he wanted to stop that tear before it hit the ground, he reluctantly kept his hand on the back of his neck. He watched it fall, fall to the ground.
He'd lost one chance.
"Really?" he asked. "Because your opinion was slightly different just one week ago."
"So was yours," she whispered. "But you realized something, didn't you?"
He shook his head. "I can't stay here, because this isn't for you?"
She sniffed again and cried, "What isn't? Your career, your friends?" She choked again, then whispered, "Me?"
He stood up and took his bag to one hand. He watched as she stood up, a frown on her face, joining every tear.
"Please," she whimpered. "Please don't leave, John. Please don't."
He looked at her.
"Please," she begged on. "You have to stay here."
He leaned in to kiss her forehead. She cried even harder as he did so, then put her hands on his neck, then his cheeks.
"I can't be here with you," he said, still angered. "I can't do this with someone - "
"John," she pleaded. "Don't do this. Why are you doing this?"
"I don't know, honestly," he said. "But I figure you fit into the equation somehow."
She cried harder as he turned around. She called out his name once, then once again. He attempted to block every sound, every cry from her. But they would never depart from his memory, his mind, or his heart. She was with him forever.
But he didn't want it to be that way.
But, then again, he did.
--
Confusing? Or just stupid?
As I looked back on this before I prepared it for a chapter, I realized it has, like, a dozen traces of "The Storm - Part Two" D/C scenes in it. I swear, it was not supposed to turn out that way. I hadn't even seen the episode when I wrote this. But this is the way I wanted it to be, so don't call me a copycat. ;) Truthfully, I didn't mean to do it that way. I added some more to it, hopefully to make it less like Doug leaving Carol. (It hurts me to say that, still! Any Carby was a D/C fan... right?)
Things will get straightened out. There's always a happy ending in my fics. You know that!
-me