I'm back baby! This chapter doesn't have much to do with Carter, but it's getting my mind working again. Hope you like it! More to come ASAP.
Chapter 24: August. 31, 2000, 5PM, Hospital Room (Robert Romano's Point of View):
I'm sick of this horseshit. Benton has to get his head on straight and stop worrying about that drugged up Doctor Carter. I am watching them from outside the hospital room. For a while they were arguing but now they are silent and just staring at each other. Enter Rocket.
I storm in and shout, "What the hell is wrong with you, Peter? I said that I wanted you back in surgery!" He doesn't move. "Dr. Benton—!"
The drug addict speaks, "Dr. Benton, I can't talk like this." His voice shakes as her whispers this.
"Pipe down, Carter—" I start to say but Peter interrupts, still facing away from me.
"Don't speak to him like that. Please leave Dr. Romano."
"Not unless you're following right behind me. I gave you plenty of time to deal with this situation. And it seems to me that Dr. Carter is out of the woods. . . physically at least."
Carter is whining again, "Dr. Benton, please . . ."
I sigh and rub my eyes. I need to get him out of the room somehow. I guess I could be nice to him. "Peter," I say calmly, "Let's just step outside so we can talk and let Dr. Carter rest for a few minutes." I wait.
After a minute or two, Peter finally looks away from Carter and looks at me. But strangely I don't think he's looking at me, but instead, straight past my head . . . as if I'm not even there.
"Okay," he says. To Carter he says, "I'll be right outside if you need anything, okay man?" Carter just nods in response and somehow seems to squeeze himself in the fetal position even tighter than he already is.
I lead the other surgeon out to the hallway. As I gather my thoughts I notice that Benton is watching Carter through the door's window. I never realized just how close these two are.
"Peter," I get his attention and he looks away from the window. I am surprised that he keeps his eyes on me as I speak, "John is a very sick man. And I understand that you two are friends, but we really need you in surgery. You can't do anything more to help him except get him professional help. And you need to ger some sleep—"
"I can do more for him—"
"Like what!?" I am not yelling at him in anger. I merely want him to see that here is nothing left for him to do. He needs sleep. He isn't thinking straight.
"He confessed to me." Benton speaks these words quietly but his next sentence is said even quieter. "He admitted that he doesn't want to live. He admitted to drugs. He won't talk to anyone else, just me. I'm the only person who can help him right now. Let me do that for him."
Suddenly I see Peter sway and he has to steady himself against the wall.
"Peter! Are you alright?" I rush next to him.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." But he was already sliding to the floor.
"Peter! Peter!" I shout down the hall, "I need a gurney!" A couple of nurses come running with a gurney. We pull Peter off the floor and lay him down.
Behind me I hear someone ask, "What happened to him?" It's Carter.
"Get back in your room please," I say as calmly as I can.
"No, I want to know what happened to Dr. Benton."
"Nurse," I say to the man next to me, "Please escort Dr. Carter back to his bed and put his restraints back on."
"I don't need to be restrained!" he shouts out.
To the nurse I say, "Do it." To Carter I order, "Lay down for him. Be good and maybe you'll get them off early." I know this is not true since he was a danger to himself. It will be up to the psychiatrist to take them off. And now I'm off to fix-up doctor number two.
On the way to the ER floor Peter starts to wake up. He mumbles, "What's going on?"
"You fainted. You haven't been sleeping or eating enough. And I'm guessing that you are dehydrated too. So I am keeping you here overnight—"
"That's not necessary, Robert."
"I think it is. You fainted and we need to make sure it won't happen again. Just think of it as a vacation. It's a good chance for you to get some sleep, eat some decent food, all in all replenish your body."
"But what about Carter?"
"They have capable doctors upstairs. And I'll check on him every once and a while. Now rest up, Dr. Benton."
I go upstairs to the psych floor and find that not only is Carter back in restraints but Dr. DeRaad is also in the room, sitting next to the bed. DeRaad is trying to make him talk but Carter has his head facing the other way and isn't saying a word.
Out of no where Carter starts thrashing his arms and legs in the restraints and shouts out, "Where the fuck is Dr. Benton!"
I enter the room and must have startled DeRaad because he jumps up from his seat and asks, "May I help you, Dr. Romano?"
"No." I turn to Carter and say, "Peter won't be able to sit with you for a while. It seems that he was up here so much that he wore himself out. He needs some rest. But I suggest you tell the shrinks up here whatever it is that you told Peter earlier." And I walk out. I know I was harsh but I have better things to do than baby-sit this addict.
Chapter 24: August. 31, 2000, 5PM, Hospital Room (Robert Romano's Point of View):
I'm sick of this horseshit. Benton has to get his head on straight and stop worrying about that drugged up Doctor Carter. I am watching them from outside the hospital room. For a while they were arguing but now they are silent and just staring at each other. Enter Rocket.
I storm in and shout, "What the hell is wrong with you, Peter? I said that I wanted you back in surgery!" He doesn't move. "Dr. Benton—!"
The drug addict speaks, "Dr. Benton, I can't talk like this." His voice shakes as her whispers this.
"Pipe down, Carter—" I start to say but Peter interrupts, still facing away from me.
"Don't speak to him like that. Please leave Dr. Romano."
"Not unless you're following right behind me. I gave you plenty of time to deal with this situation. And it seems to me that Dr. Carter is out of the woods. . . physically at least."
Carter is whining again, "Dr. Benton, please . . ."
I sigh and rub my eyes. I need to get him out of the room somehow. I guess I could be nice to him. "Peter," I say calmly, "Let's just step outside so we can talk and let Dr. Carter rest for a few minutes." I wait.
After a minute or two, Peter finally looks away from Carter and looks at me. But strangely I don't think he's looking at me, but instead, straight past my head . . . as if I'm not even there.
"Okay," he says. To Carter he says, "I'll be right outside if you need anything, okay man?" Carter just nods in response and somehow seems to squeeze himself in the fetal position even tighter than he already is.
I lead the other surgeon out to the hallway. As I gather my thoughts I notice that Benton is watching Carter through the door's window. I never realized just how close these two are.
"Peter," I get his attention and he looks away from the window. I am surprised that he keeps his eyes on me as I speak, "John is a very sick man. And I understand that you two are friends, but we really need you in surgery. You can't do anything more to help him except get him professional help. And you need to ger some sleep—"
"I can do more for him—"
"Like what!?" I am not yelling at him in anger. I merely want him to see that here is nothing left for him to do. He needs sleep. He isn't thinking straight.
"He confessed to me." Benton speaks these words quietly but his next sentence is said even quieter. "He admitted that he doesn't want to live. He admitted to drugs. He won't talk to anyone else, just me. I'm the only person who can help him right now. Let me do that for him."
Suddenly I see Peter sway and he has to steady himself against the wall.
"Peter! Are you alright?" I rush next to him.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." But he was already sliding to the floor.
"Peter! Peter!" I shout down the hall, "I need a gurney!" A couple of nurses come running with a gurney. We pull Peter off the floor and lay him down.
Behind me I hear someone ask, "What happened to him?" It's Carter.
"Get back in your room please," I say as calmly as I can.
"No, I want to know what happened to Dr. Benton."
"Nurse," I say to the man next to me, "Please escort Dr. Carter back to his bed and put his restraints back on."
"I don't need to be restrained!" he shouts out.
To the nurse I say, "Do it." To Carter I order, "Lay down for him. Be good and maybe you'll get them off early." I know this is not true since he was a danger to himself. It will be up to the psychiatrist to take them off. And now I'm off to fix-up doctor number two.
On the way to the ER floor Peter starts to wake up. He mumbles, "What's going on?"
"You fainted. You haven't been sleeping or eating enough. And I'm guessing that you are dehydrated too. So I am keeping you here overnight—"
"That's not necessary, Robert."
"I think it is. You fainted and we need to make sure it won't happen again. Just think of it as a vacation. It's a good chance for you to get some sleep, eat some decent food, all in all replenish your body."
"But what about Carter?"
"They have capable doctors upstairs. And I'll check on him every once and a while. Now rest up, Dr. Benton."
I go upstairs to the psych floor and find that not only is Carter back in restraints but Dr. DeRaad is also in the room, sitting next to the bed. DeRaad is trying to make him talk but Carter has his head facing the other way and isn't saying a word.
Out of no where Carter starts thrashing his arms and legs in the restraints and shouts out, "Where the fuck is Dr. Benton!"
I enter the room and must have startled DeRaad because he jumps up from his seat and asks, "May I help you, Dr. Romano?"
"No." I turn to Carter and say, "Peter won't be able to sit with you for a while. It seems that he was up here so much that he wore himself out. He needs some rest. But I suggest you tell the shrinks up here whatever it is that you told Peter earlier." And I walk out. I know I was harsh but I have better things to do than baby-sit this addict.