I even feel stupid putting this story up because it's written so bad. lol

**

Mark looked up from the clipboard in his hands long enough to see his friend Doug Ross pass out on the floor.

"Doug!" he said loudly, hoping it was a joke as he ran to his side. Others gathered around to help their fellow co-worker who was as pale as ever, and sweating. Mark had always known Doug to be healthy. It was very odd seeing him in this condition.

"Mark, what happened?"

He heard Carol's voice, and she knelt down on the other side of Doug. Mark had just finished checking his pulse.

"He just passed out.." Mark answered. Carol checked his breathing.

"He's not breathing," she stated in alarm. A gurney was rolled beside them and Carter appeared to help lift their friend onto it.

"Clear the ER!" Carol shouted as they wheeled him into the room. After hooking him up to numerous devices, Mark noticed bruising on his arms. It only meant one thing.

"Carol," Mark brought her attention to the bruising. Carol opened her mouth a little bit to show shock.

"Herion?"

**

Mark looked in the ICU room to see Doug laying there. They had worked on him for a while, when they got him breathing again. The thing that boggled him the most was the herion. The Doug Ross he knew would never in a million years even touch drugs. Now he had herion marks on his arm. He even checked to make sure, and it came out positive.

"How's he doing?" Carol walked up beside him and crossed her arms.

"Breathing on his own now, but barely," Mark answered flatly. He couldn't get the drugs out of his mind. Carol didn't answer for a moment.

"Did you know he was taking drugs?" she suddenly asked not away from the window. Mark turned his head sharply to her.

"What?! No way. This is as much as a surprise to me as it is to you." Mark looked back to Doug when she didn't answer.

"Doug would be the last person I would think would be doing that to himself." Carol said. Mark looked at her again.

"What about me?"

"No, you know what I mean."

Mark looked back at Doug.

"What do you think made him do it?" he asked.

Silence.

"Stress?" Mark didn't have a better answer then hers. Doug was a level headed person. Something must have pushed him over the edge.

**

Doug slowly opened his eyes. And he remembered everything that had happened. He had lost consciousness right in the middle of the hospital, making a fool of himself. He had reached the limit and had become officially weak. Doug was usually the funny - smart ass type of guy. Never the type to be the one laying up in a hospital bed. Everyone knew that too.

His whole body ached, though his headache had lifted a bit. He wondered how long he had been out.

"You're up." It was Mark, he walked into the ICU room. Doug coughed, his throat was so dry.

"Yeah."

Mark stood at the end of the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Never better Mark, and you?" he decided to try one of his smartass remarks. But Mark didn't smile.

"What are those marks on your arm," he said trying to make it sound like a question, but it sounded like he already knew the answer. Doug looked down at his left arm and saw small bruises around the crook of his arm. He looked back at Mark, not recalling where he had got them from.

"What'd you guys do to me?" he asked Mark. The doctor in front of him looked confused.

"What? You did that to yourself."

Doug was flabbergasted.

"To myself? And how do you figure that?" he demanded back, not having a clue what Mark was clearly getting at.

"Oh come on Doug-"

"What the hell are you talking about, Mark?" he tried to sit up, but was being held back with tubes that were attached to his body. Mark turned angry.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. The herion!" Mark narrowed his eyebrows. Doug opened his eyes wider.

"You think I.."

"How else, Doug?" Mark demanded.

"I have NEVER done drugs!" Doug sat up this time alert and angry about the accusation.

"Your little girlfriend tested positive also," Mark added. Doug tried to think back to the night before. Drugs did not come into the picture. "You guys must've done it together."

"Do you really think that less of me Mark, that I'd use drugs?" Doug asked seriously.

"You can never judge a book by it's cover.." was all he said. Doug wanted to yell at him. Scream. But he didn't. He tried to think of a logical explanation.

"She must have injected it into me while I was passed out.. That bitch.."

"Well, nothing you can do about it now." Marked switched the clipboard to his right hand to his left, sounding as if he wasn't convinced.

"Oh just leave me alone.." Doug rasped out not wanting to even look at Mark's face then.

"Fine." And Mark left the room.

Doug leaned his head back and closed his eyes. They hadn't gotten himself any morphene for the pain. His whole body ached like he had been at the gym for hours on end. He still had his terrible migraine, and his breathing was wheezy and shallow. Doug opened his eyes and inspected his left arm. Sure enough, those were needle marks, most likely herion. But how? Could he have been so drunk that he would do this to himself? It was unbelieable. He was a doctor. He knew better.

Fighting the pain, the nausea, and the dizziness, he got the IV needle out of his right arm, and stood up. More dizziness swept over him and for a moment he thought he would throw up. But the feeling passed, and he walked into the bathroom. Doug turned on the light and got a glimpse of himself for the first time in a while. He looked way worse than he had this morning. He was sweating, yet he was cold. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked so pale.

Doug found his scrubs in a bag on the floor with his ID tucked away inside, and he quickly changed out of the gown. Funny. He could see his ass through the gown. He almost smiled, but didn't.

Once dressed, he wondered how he was going to get out of the hospital, with all of his colleagues around. But somehow he made it, keeping his face hidden from anyone he knew well.

Out in the hospital staff parking lot, Doug's blazer still sat where he had left it hours ago, crooked and parking across two stalls. He wanted to sleep so badly, and just wanted to go to his bed and sleep forever. Concentrating on driving home was the hard part. Doug got into the driver's seat of the blazer and rested his hot forehead on the steering wheel. A whole bunch of questions raced through his head. How come he had taken Herion? What exactly did happen last night? How come he felt so bad? Usually Doug could figure out things like that.. But his brain couldn't function right. Before almost passing out in his car, he started the blazer and drove off of hospital property.

**