I know it's taken a long time. Em had this to me a while back, but I haven't been home all week. We are finally getting to some Carby stuff here. I know, it took five stinking chapters, but it's here now. Before I get into the story, there are some things I would like to explain. 1.) Grace's name-For those of you who are wondering, I don't think that it's a name Abby would ever give her kid. I don't remember how I got it but it was one of two ways: Either closing my eyes, opening the baby naming book, and using the first name my finger lands on or for some reason I thought it was a good idea and there were lots of puns and things I could do with the name. I'm going to go with the first one because I'm just too tired to remember right now…2.) Abby's behavior in the chapter-I have never seen Abby as a mom. I remember how she acted with Douglas, but I used my aunt. Sometimes I swear my aunt is Abby. They are almost exactly the same (Save facial features, alcoholism and a bipolar mother…Then again, Grandma has been acting odd…) So, as I told Em: If you don't like the way she's acting as a mom, blame my aunt.

Thanks to Em and all of those people who read the story even if you didn't review.

I don't own them.

Chapter 5-Falling from Grace

(Previously on ER: Carter found his path crossing with an anonymous little girl in the ER on several occasions. Later he stole a vial of Morphine from the drugs lockup and was debating whether to take the drug or not. )

"John, are you alright?" Millicent Carter walked into her kitchen to find her grandson standing at the counter drinking a cup of coffee. Since he had returned to work his behavior had been erratic; he never seemed to sleep anymore and he was often distant, but today he appeared to be more cheerful, more like his old self. She didn't want to worry but her concern was evident as she asked after him.


"I'm fine, Gamma," Carter replied.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, sitting down at the table and giving him her full attention.

"Never been better," he replied, as surprised by his response as she was.

She took a moment to consider her words. "Wonderful," she said finally. Her worry was not abated but she was prepared to take his words at face value.

"Yup!" Carter set a plate of toast before her, kissed her forehead, and left her alone in the kitchen.

He didn't need drugs.

Not to get through his day, or his night, not to feel better.

Not for anything.

Thoughts like this, good thoughts, seemed to be coming more and more frequently. If he were in fact better he wouldn't have to worry about wanting to ease his pain because he wouldn't have any pain to ease…He must be better.

He certainly felt better.


He had the drugs, he had the syringe, but he wasn't going to use them. He didn't have time to take them the previous night but now he didn't feel the desire. He suddenly felt as though he already had taken them.

Having completed his morning tasks and rituals long before even his grandmother had gotten up, Carter was all set at only seven in the morning. Grabbing his jacket from the hall closet and shouting a good-bye to his Grandmother he opened the main door and left his house.

He didn't know where he was going.

He didn't care.

For the first time in what seemed like forever he felt he could enjoy life again, or at least attempt to. Nothing was going to ruin that, not even the details of his early morning walk. He had transferred the vial from his pants to his coat and fingered it occasionally, but he didn't feel any need. He felt almost invincible. If he could have a bottle of drugs that close to his person and not once consider using it, surely he would be fine?

"Hey, Carter!"

A voice interrupted his thoughts, causing Carter to look up. He knew he should be surprised that he ended up at the hospital even though he hadn't intended on going there, but he wasn't.

"Hi."

"Are you working today?" Dave asked when Carter was at a distance where he no longer had to yell.

Carter shook his head. "I'm off until Friday."

"Why are you here then?"

Carter shrugged. He never knew why his walks always seemed to lead him to the hospital. He didn't have anything there that he really cared about. He had friends who treated him like porcelain because they were afraid to hurt him. He had patients who treated him like some idiot doctor but still came with their problems. The hospital did have medical supplies and medications, but he didn't need either of those.

At least he didn't need either of those anymore.

He wasn't sick.

He certainly wasn't addicted to drugs. He could be sure of that now. Now that he wasn't even thinking about them.

With the exception of thinking about not thinking about them…

"Hey Carter?" Dave said irritably. "You're kinda spacing. I think you should go back home before Weaver sucks you back into hell."

"I've already been there," Carter said, more to himself than anything. Dave gave a little laugh, slightly confused by Carter's tone, but he quickly brushed off the feeling.

"Whatever you say. Weaver's on the warpath so I'd run if I were you before…"

"Dr. Carter! We're short on doctors. Would you care to fill in? I hope so. It's in your job description."

Dave smirked.

So Carter filled in…not that he minded, as he felt wonderful. He was very energized and ready for anything. Not at all the depressed shell of a man he had been the just the night before.

~~~

Towards the end of the shift, Carter no longer felt energized. He had a dull ache in the small of his back, and a need for something.

He didn't need drugs.

But he suddenly wanted them again.

His resolve completely diminished in the two seconds it took him to realize that. He stalked into the break room to fish it out of his coat pocket. It was getting dark outside, and the break room was dark save two lamps. All of the personnel on duty were either attending to patients or sitting at the admit desk, so he was almost certain of having the room to himself. All he had to do was get to his locker…

"I know you!" Small feet ran over his shoes, and the small voice they belonged to interrupted his thoughts.

Grace.

That child always showed up at the most inopportune times!

"You shouldn't be in here," he told her as he spun the combination and opened his locker. "You're going to get in trouble."

"Nuh-uh! I'm allowed to be down here today," she told him, a proud smile crossing her lips. "Mommy's working late tonight so she let me come and say good night," she explained.

"Then why are you in here?" he asked inquisitively, his curiosity piqued as to who this mystery "Mommy" could be.

"Mommy told me to. She had a patient to see first."

"She left you alone?"

"No, the babysitter did. She went to get coffee."

"How long have you been in here?"

"Not long. Why?"

Carter fished frantically for the vial and syringe. He should probably wait until the mom came, but he didn't want to.

"I need to…take my medicine," he announced, locating the vial and pulling it triumphantly from the pocket.

"OK."

Carter inserted the syringe into the top of the bottle and drew just a small amount of the drug from the vial, 10cc's at most. Grace watched him wide-eyed.

"What's that?" she asked.

"My medicine," he explained patiently.

"What's it for?"

Carter rolled his eyes. "I need it," he replied quickly, becoming slightly annoyed at this little girl's questions.

"Are you sick?"

Carter shook his head, his hands shaking as he tried to let any air out of the syringe.

"Then why do you need it?"

"Because!" He hadn't yelled it, but it was an exasperated cry and the once inquisitive child now sunk back.

"I'm sorry. Listen, I…um, get really grumpy without it. I'll be better in a minute," he explained.

He suddenly felt really guilty. Not only was he shooting up in front of a child, but a child he was lying to and had just "yelled" at.

"It's ok," Grace nodded and smiled. "Mommy says good people have bad days too."

Carter held the needle to his wrist, intending to insert it just under the wristband of his watch.

He was so close.

The needle was pressing his tender flesh, fighting to reach his vein.

Grace was watching.

Damn her.

The door opened suddenly and closed just as quickly.

"Mommy?"

Carter didn't even see who had opened the door, but he was sure they had seen him. In defeat he pulled the needle away from his skin leaving a small indent on his wrist, but he hadn't broken skin. He quickly disposed of the needle and vial before anyone else had a chance to walk in.

He couldn't have done it in front of a kid anyway…

"Was that my mom?"

Carter shrugged indifferently. "I have to get back to work." He walked quickly out of the break room, not giving himself a chance to think about what he had almost done, about how wrong it was, or about how right it would have been…

"Dr. Carter?"

Carter turned in the direction of the voice.

"Could I go on break right now? I have to do something…"

"Sure," he said dismissively, waving his hand to show they could leave. "Where's Dave?"

Abby shrugged. "He had to leave."

"Oh." It wasn't that he really cared anyway. Just one of those habitually asked things when dealing with med students.

*****

Abby rushed into the break room.

"Grace, I'm sorry honey! There was a big accident…Where's Megan?"

"She went to get coffee, I think…but that nice doctor I was telling you about was in here and he talked to me."

Abby nodded dismissively. "How was your day?"

"Fine. My teacher wants to talk to you."

"Why?"

"Dunno," She said I didn't do anything wrong."

"Yeah, she just said that she needed to talk to you," Megan explained, returning to the room just in time to hear Grace's last statement.

"I know you didn't do anything wrong, sweetie," Abby said softly as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. "Have you been good then?"

Grace nodded.

"Did you practice?"

"Yup."

"Have you been listening to Megan?"

Grace looked unsurely over at Megan who gave a slight nod, and Grace in turn nodded to her mother.

"Good, now for some fun stuff! Did you pick a book?"

"Yup!" Grace pulled a book from the chair she was keeping her things on and turned to her mother excitedly. "I brought Fairy Tales, and you can read one and I can read one!"

"Alright, but they have to be short though. It's getting late and I have to work."

"Okay. You start."

So Abby read a story and Grace read a story, then Abby proceeded to rush both Grace and Megan out the door. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I have to get back to work before Dr. Weaver comes and yells at me. Goodnight Grace," she said, kneeling down to kiss her daughter and pull her into a fast hug. "I Love you."

"'Night Mommy. Love you too"

"I'll see you later."

"Bye."

Grace and Megan left quickly, leaving Abby standing alone in the lounge. She would never follow them, as the nurses were gossips and the doctors believed in commitment to, and only to the hospital. She didn't want to know what they would say about her if they knew she had a child.

Instead Abby walked tentatively to the hazardous waste container on the wall. She had never figured out why there was one in there, but she never questioned it.

It was a compulsion. She shouldn't have cared, but she looked anyway. In the hazardous wastes container she found only the nearly full vial and the remainder in the syringe beside it. She sighed inwardly.

Thank God.

That meant that Carter hadn't done anything…

He could have though.


*****

Carter walked home in the dark. He had gotten himself into every situation he had been in that day. Had he taken a drive he wouldn't be walking to the El. Had he not gone for a walk he wouldn't have ended up at the ER. Had he tried harder not to think about drugs he wouldn't have almost have injected himself in front of a child.

He couldn't really say that any of those 'had nots' would have mattered anyway. He was miserable from the start…well, maybe not at the start of the day, but he knew that what he had done that day wouldn't have made much of a difference had he gone elsewhere.

When he reached the station, he took his ticket and went to the platform to wait for the El. He could see only one other person waiting for the El, shivering for lack of warmer clothing.

"What kind of med student stands outside in that kind of clothing when it's this cold?" He hadn't meant for it to sound funny, but Abby laughed anyway.

"I left it on the El this morning," she explained.

"Oh," Carter laughed too. "Do you want mine?"

"No, thank you," her expression changed quickly. She was suddenly quite serious. "How are things going?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…"

"I don't even know what you're talking about," Carter laughed uncomfortably.

"Since Valentines day…." She seemed to be waiting for him to lash out or something because she sunk back, but still stood confidently before him.

He plastered a smile onto his face, the same smile he had used on every other person who had ever asked him. "Just fine. I'm doing so much better."

"Oh." She paused for a moment to consider her words. "I saw you take Morphine from the drugs lockup yesterday…and you almost used it today," she told him. Sometimes being blunt was the best way to go…but perhaps not this time.

"Yes, for a patient, and no, I did not," Carter said defensively.

"Dr. Carter?"

He kept his voice level. He wasn't going to let her see that she was right. "I didn't take any narcotics. At least not for myself."

Abby didn't reply. There was no use arguing with him.

"I have to go," he told her has the El came lurching to a stop on the tracks before them. "I'm not addicted to anything so don't worry about it," he added as he stepped off the platform and into the El.

Abby followed him on but made sure not to talk to him. If he wanted to talk he would. She didn't want to rock the boat by trying to pry it out of him.

Before she knew it Abby had arrived at her stop, and as she got up to leave she glanced over at Carter. He was looking out of the window, as he had been when she got on. "Good night, Dr. Carter," she said, walking off the El and into the night. Thankfully her apartment was very close to the station so she was home in a matter of minutes.

"Why is she sleeping on the couch?" Abby asked when she arrived at home to find her daughter curled up on the couch, surrounded by stuffed animals and covered by blankets.

Megan sighed. "She insisted on staying awake until you got home. I told her that she could stay up as long as she pretended to sleep."

Abby smiled. "And she insisted on doing all of this in the living room?"

"Of course!"

"Strange child…Do I pay you tonight or Friday?"

"Friday."

"Alright. I'll see you then."

Megan left quickly, and Abby knelt down beside the couch and stroked Grace's face.

"Hey you, I'm home," she said when Grace's eyes fluttered open.

"Hi," Grace responded sleepily.

Abby picked her up, blankets animals and all, and started to head towards the bedroom. "Are you ready for bed now?"

Grace nodded and rested her head on her mother's shoulder. "Can I sleep with you?"

"Sure."

Abby changed direction and went into her own room. She tucked Grace into bed and climbed in next to her, not bothering to change as she was too tired…still, at least she had tomorrow off!

"I love you, Mommy," Grace murmured sleepily.

"Love you too," Abby said quietly.

*****

It wasn't worth it.

Any of it.

He had exposed a child to drugs; he had lied to himself as well as others about what was going on; hell, he had probably jeopardized his career as a doctor!

Not that he was acting much like a doctor anymore. He didn't care about his patients; he didn't care about helping them…he just didn't care about people. He cared only for drugs. He couldn't live like that anymore.

He didn't have to live either. He was a doctor. He knew the easiest ways to kill himself…

But did he really want to be dead?

No.

He just didn't want to feel like he felt at that very moment. Sure, he had times when he felt great, but he always returned to the same feeling eventually.


He hated that feeling.

Before Paul Sobricki had stabbed him, before he had killed Lucy, Carter's life was fine. He had been a doctor, a good doctor. He didn't have to be in pain, but he didn't have to take drugs either. He could do so many things to change himself, but it would be so hard…

He had to do it, though, and that night he knew why. He knew it was because he had become a person he didn't like, and suddenly he felt that he had to do it to show Grace that he could do something right, that he could care. She would probably never know, but he had to do it for her anyway. He had to show her that he could be a good person.

He went to bed that night and he slept. He pushed drugs out of his mind. He filled it with the resolve of earlier that day, but this time it was real. It wasn't because he was feeling happy or elated as he had been earlier that morning, as he most certainly wasn't either.

It was because he finally knew what he wanted.

He knew he would never stop thinking about drugs, but he had decided that he would never take them. He wasn't going to go to NA or AA, but he was addicted. He was addicted and alone, but he was also a doctor. He would get through it.

He wouldn't kill himself, and he most certainly would not take drugs.