:*:*:*:*:*:*:
CHAPTER SEVEN
:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:
A/N: Okay, first of all, I want to tell you guys that your support is awesome! Thanks SO much! If it weren't for you guys, this Carby probably wouldn't exist... well, maybe the first chapter. But remember; now Abby is afraid to talk to Carter because no one has told her why he yelled at her.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
Carter stared out at the Chicago night skyline. He had his back propped against the brick ledge of the roof with a pillow from the ER supporting his head. It was the only thing holding his head up. He could barely hold it there, a sign that this night was a really bad night.
"Why the hell did I do that?" Carter asked the vacant and cold air, as if it had an answer. His shift had been over for about an hour, and so had Abby's. The only difference was that she got out faster than he did. Yet he remained on the roof, shaking from the cold and frustration of the night.
The only thing that could explain his behavior was his failure, and Carter knew that. But he didn't want to think of it. He kept seeing the face of Jay, confident that Carter was going to save him. And to make matters even worse, he never got the chance to apologize to Abby. He never got the chance to tell Mark that he was right even though he kept being so persistent, either. He had apologized to the poor man in trauma two, but what good did that do him now? It wasn't like the man could really accept the apology... or let Carter know that he did, anyway. There was nothing left to do but go home and sleep on it, one thing Carter didn't want to do. Of course he wanted to sleep, but not with this running through his head.
As he descended to the ER, he saw no one but the late night crew. Mark had left.
"Wonderful," Carter said sarcastically. As he walked, he decided to talk to one of the receptionists to see the schedule of who was where for the next day. He was going to apologize, and not miss any chances.
"Hey, how are you?" Carter asked the receptionist, trying to seem optimistic.
"Fine, and you?" the young girl replied, realizing that the answer was probably not going to be positive.
"I've been better," Carter answered, still smiling. "Say, could I see that?" he asked. He pointed to a blue binder thick with paper and divider tabs.
"Sure," The girl said with a smile, handing it over.
Carter looked through the book to see who was on for the next day. However, something was missing. Carter needed to ask a sudden question, but knew that the receptionist wouldn't be able to answer. Just to his luck, he turned around, the binder still in hand, to see Kerri Weaver.
"Hey Doctor Weaver," he said, making her turn.
"Yea Carter?" said, her hand on the door.
"Could you tell me something?" Carter asked, walking toward her with his finger on a page in the binder.
"Yea sure, what do you need?"
"Could you tell me why that spot is blank?" Carter asked, still pointing.
"Well, Carter, that would mean that no one is working that time," she answered with a "Duh, Carter" expression in her voice.
"I know, I know... but that's Abby's spot. Why isn't she there?"
Weaver took her hand off the door and turned to face him. "She is taking her vacation week, don't you remember? About two weeks ago, she was all happy that she was going on vacation and she took what's left of this week out." She explained this, still remembering about Carter the sleeping storyteller and smiling about the fact that Carter was concerned about her, making the story all the more true.
"Oh, well, I just needed to tell her something really important, that's all. Oh well," Carter said with a sigh, snapping the binder shut and giving it back to the receptionist (who didn't know the story... one of the few.)
'Like what, like the fact that you love her?' Weaver thought. "Okay," she said aloud. "I have to go. You should get going, too. Your shift was..."
"Over an hour ago, I know," Carter said, finishing her sentence.
"Yea, exactly. Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Kerri said, finally going out the door.
"Bye," Carter said after her. He was screwed.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
When Carter finally got home, he realized there was no where to park. Who has a party in the middle of October for no apparent reason? Well, there seemed to be cars in every available spot. He wound up parking down and across the street, where he had a long distance to get to his own apartment. This was definitely not his night... not to mention there was a loud music fest going on right across from his building. 'No sleep anyway!' He thought. It was time to get to Abby.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
Carter sat in his apartment on the couch in his pajamas, thinking of what he could do. He had tried to get Abby's phone number, but she wasn't listed. He tried to get the directory of people that worked in the ER, but that was something he couldn't find. Information wasn't exactly a big help, either, considering that no one could seem to connect him to the right number.
Then he remembered something; he had recently been to her house. He couldn't remember what for, but he had been. Then that eventually came to him, he had driven her to work as a favor (since he owed her so many of those) and he had written down the address. But where did he put it? He started with the little containers randomly placed around the apartment, then worked his way to his hamper. By the fourth pair of pants down, he found a slip of paper in the right pocket. He opened the paper, praying for some actual good thing to happen, and it did. This was her address.
He realized how crazy he would seem, going to her house close to midnight in his pajamas just to apologize, but he didn't care. He was in love, and that was what mattered. And if there was any hope of the relationship he longed for, this was something he was going to have to do.
Carter threw on his coat as he left the room, his keys jingling in the pocket as he ran. He bounded down the steps, skipping the bottom few with a leap, and headed toward the door. He walked down the steps, a now routine thing considering that he had almost fallen a few times because of all the frost. But as usual, he figured the street would be salted, and that would be when he would break into a run again. His figuring was wrong.
As he ran out onto the street, his feet found the black ice and slipped as he went down on his back, his head hitting the road and his vision blurring into a world of black.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
When Carter finally came to, he looked straight ahead, but there was nothing to see, for a bright light quickly blinded him. He didn't know where he was or how he had gotten there, nor did he remember what had happened in the first place. All he knew was that this light was way too bright for him. He tried to shield his eyes, but he couldn't bring his hand to his face. It was either too heavy or being held down somehow. So he stared into the light that seemed to be getting brighter with every passing second. Before he could fathom just what was happening, the blinding light made a screeching noise that he recognized as squealing brakes, and it was all too loud for him. Just when he thought he knew what was going on, and he grasped the smell of rubber, he saw black all over again.
A few minutes later, the darkness and the smell backed away as he realized what he was looking at. He was facing sideways, and his blurred vision came into clear. He was looking at what was the wheel of a very low car. God knew why. He then heard footsteps and saw a shadowed figure kneel down to his level. A deep voice spoke to him, but he could not understand what it said.
Carter made a confused face as he tried to speak, but nothing came out. Eventually, a cough started him on words. "What?" Carter asked the voice. It spoke again, but it was still hard to hear. "What?" Carter asked again.
"Are you all right?" the voice asked him. It was definitely a male tone.
"I don't know," Carter said in a raspy tone. He tried to speak more, but it took a little while. "Maybe I would if I knew what was going on," he managed after a short amount of time that consisted of him wetting his mouth to speak.
"Okay," the voice said, sounding a little stressed. "Um... okay, let me start here. My name is Curt, and I was driving along this road when I saw you lying in the middle of it. I slammed on my brakes, but I skidded on the ice. I don't know if I hit you. Do you feel like I hit you?" He spoke slowly and clearly for the man he had just found on the road.
"I don't really feel anything, actually, but I don't think you hit me," Carter admitted. The man took his hand. Carter finally got the strength to look at the face of the most helpful person he knew at the moment. He was a small man, but had a full head of light brown hair, much lighter than his own. He wore a stressed look on his face, and his blue eyes showed it the most.
"Well no wonder you don't feel anything," Curt explained. "Your hands are ice cold... and are those... pajamas that you're wearing?"
"Yea," Carter said with a small laugh that made him hurt. His head had hurt already from the locker and door incident, but by this point it was pounding.
"Well, I don't know how you got here, but I think you really need some help."
Carter tried to think of the answer that would explain the man's confusion.
"Abby!" He almost yelled suddenly. This made his head hurt more as he jerked. "Ow!"
"What?" Curt asked.
"That's how I got here, I was supposed to get to Abby! Ow! Christ Almighty, my head!"
"Settle down," Curt advised. "Who's Abby?"
"She's uh..." Carter contemplated whether he should tell the man or not. 'Oh what the hell, I don't know him,' he figured. "She's this girl that, uh, well let's say she means a lot to me, and I kind of screwed up today, and I have to go apologize before she leaves for vacation."
"Oh," Curt said, still a little confused. "Well, I don't think that's going to happen tonight, sorry buddy."
"Crap. What time is it? And by the way, my name's Doctor John Carter."
"It's about quarter to one, and you're a doctor?"
"Damn it, and yes."
"So does this mean that I can call your work place?" Curt asked.
"Yes. Do you have a phone?"
"Yes I do. Do you have a number?"
"Yes I do," Carter said, ready to rattle off the number.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
In no time, thanks to the fact that no one was stupid enough to hurt themselves this late at night, the paramedics arrived. He was put in a brace and taken back to work.
"Thanks for working the graveyard shift, you guys! You're all doing a wonderful job," Carter said with gratitude. Curt drove along behind the ambulance. He wanted to make sure everything was okay.
"What's your name?" one of the paramedics asked, not able to see his face.
"It's John. Well, call me Carter, actually. Yea, that would be better."
"Carter? That's you? I didn't even notice!" This was a paramedic he recognized, but he couldn't think of the name.
"Yep, it's me. I'm not having the best of luck today."
"I see that."
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
Carter heard the ER doors open and the wheels of the gurney that carried him rattling as he was pushed through the doors.
"All right, what's going on here?" said a familiar voice, undoubtedly Luka's.
The paramedic explained what was going on, but before he could say the name, Luka found it out.
"Carter?" he exclaimed in surprise.
"Yea. Boy, you're on a long shift," Carter pointed out.
"Lucky for you. Elizabeth is, too. She came down here to help me out when we got the call, considering that surgery does nothing this time of night."
"Ooh, a good team," Carter encouraged.
Carter's night went all but according to plan for him, while at the same time according to plan for the ER staff. The rest of the night consisted of Aspirin, a CT Scan that showed that all that had happened was a normal blackout, a cozy bed, and a very warm set of blankets. He was having a sleepover in the ER this time. It wasn't long until Carter dozed off into a light sleep, the thoughts of Abby going miserably on vacation invading his mind.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
CHAPTER SEVEN
:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:
A/N: Okay, first of all, I want to tell you guys that your support is awesome! Thanks SO much! If it weren't for you guys, this Carby probably wouldn't exist... well, maybe the first chapter. But remember; now Abby is afraid to talk to Carter because no one has told her why he yelled at her.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
Carter stared out at the Chicago night skyline. He had his back propped against the brick ledge of the roof with a pillow from the ER supporting his head. It was the only thing holding his head up. He could barely hold it there, a sign that this night was a really bad night.
"Why the hell did I do that?" Carter asked the vacant and cold air, as if it had an answer. His shift had been over for about an hour, and so had Abby's. The only difference was that she got out faster than he did. Yet he remained on the roof, shaking from the cold and frustration of the night.
The only thing that could explain his behavior was his failure, and Carter knew that. But he didn't want to think of it. He kept seeing the face of Jay, confident that Carter was going to save him. And to make matters even worse, he never got the chance to apologize to Abby. He never got the chance to tell Mark that he was right even though he kept being so persistent, either. He had apologized to the poor man in trauma two, but what good did that do him now? It wasn't like the man could really accept the apology... or let Carter know that he did, anyway. There was nothing left to do but go home and sleep on it, one thing Carter didn't want to do. Of course he wanted to sleep, but not with this running through his head.
As he descended to the ER, he saw no one but the late night crew. Mark had left.
"Wonderful," Carter said sarcastically. As he walked, he decided to talk to one of the receptionists to see the schedule of who was where for the next day. He was going to apologize, and not miss any chances.
"Hey, how are you?" Carter asked the receptionist, trying to seem optimistic.
"Fine, and you?" the young girl replied, realizing that the answer was probably not going to be positive.
"I've been better," Carter answered, still smiling. "Say, could I see that?" he asked. He pointed to a blue binder thick with paper and divider tabs.
"Sure," The girl said with a smile, handing it over.
Carter looked through the book to see who was on for the next day. However, something was missing. Carter needed to ask a sudden question, but knew that the receptionist wouldn't be able to answer. Just to his luck, he turned around, the binder still in hand, to see Kerri Weaver.
"Hey Doctor Weaver," he said, making her turn.
"Yea Carter?" said, her hand on the door.
"Could you tell me something?" Carter asked, walking toward her with his finger on a page in the binder.
"Yea sure, what do you need?"
"Could you tell me why that spot is blank?" Carter asked, still pointing.
"Well, Carter, that would mean that no one is working that time," she answered with a "Duh, Carter" expression in her voice.
"I know, I know... but that's Abby's spot. Why isn't she there?"
Weaver took her hand off the door and turned to face him. "She is taking her vacation week, don't you remember? About two weeks ago, she was all happy that she was going on vacation and she took what's left of this week out." She explained this, still remembering about Carter the sleeping storyteller and smiling about the fact that Carter was concerned about her, making the story all the more true.
"Oh, well, I just needed to tell her something really important, that's all. Oh well," Carter said with a sigh, snapping the binder shut and giving it back to the receptionist (who didn't know the story... one of the few.)
'Like what, like the fact that you love her?' Weaver thought. "Okay," she said aloud. "I have to go. You should get going, too. Your shift was..."
"Over an hour ago, I know," Carter said, finishing her sentence.
"Yea, exactly. Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Kerri said, finally going out the door.
"Bye," Carter said after her. He was screwed.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
When Carter finally got home, he realized there was no where to park. Who has a party in the middle of October for no apparent reason? Well, there seemed to be cars in every available spot. He wound up parking down and across the street, where he had a long distance to get to his own apartment. This was definitely not his night... not to mention there was a loud music fest going on right across from his building. 'No sleep anyway!' He thought. It was time to get to Abby.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
Carter sat in his apartment on the couch in his pajamas, thinking of what he could do. He had tried to get Abby's phone number, but she wasn't listed. He tried to get the directory of people that worked in the ER, but that was something he couldn't find. Information wasn't exactly a big help, either, considering that no one could seem to connect him to the right number.
Then he remembered something; he had recently been to her house. He couldn't remember what for, but he had been. Then that eventually came to him, he had driven her to work as a favor (since he owed her so many of those) and he had written down the address. But where did he put it? He started with the little containers randomly placed around the apartment, then worked his way to his hamper. By the fourth pair of pants down, he found a slip of paper in the right pocket. He opened the paper, praying for some actual good thing to happen, and it did. This was her address.
He realized how crazy he would seem, going to her house close to midnight in his pajamas just to apologize, but he didn't care. He was in love, and that was what mattered. And if there was any hope of the relationship he longed for, this was something he was going to have to do.
Carter threw on his coat as he left the room, his keys jingling in the pocket as he ran. He bounded down the steps, skipping the bottom few with a leap, and headed toward the door. He walked down the steps, a now routine thing considering that he had almost fallen a few times because of all the frost. But as usual, he figured the street would be salted, and that would be when he would break into a run again. His figuring was wrong.
As he ran out onto the street, his feet found the black ice and slipped as he went down on his back, his head hitting the road and his vision blurring into a world of black.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
When Carter finally came to, he looked straight ahead, but there was nothing to see, for a bright light quickly blinded him. He didn't know where he was or how he had gotten there, nor did he remember what had happened in the first place. All he knew was that this light was way too bright for him. He tried to shield his eyes, but he couldn't bring his hand to his face. It was either too heavy or being held down somehow. So he stared into the light that seemed to be getting brighter with every passing second. Before he could fathom just what was happening, the blinding light made a screeching noise that he recognized as squealing brakes, and it was all too loud for him. Just when he thought he knew what was going on, and he grasped the smell of rubber, he saw black all over again.
A few minutes later, the darkness and the smell backed away as he realized what he was looking at. He was facing sideways, and his blurred vision came into clear. He was looking at what was the wheel of a very low car. God knew why. He then heard footsteps and saw a shadowed figure kneel down to his level. A deep voice spoke to him, but he could not understand what it said.
Carter made a confused face as he tried to speak, but nothing came out. Eventually, a cough started him on words. "What?" Carter asked the voice. It spoke again, but it was still hard to hear. "What?" Carter asked again.
"Are you all right?" the voice asked him. It was definitely a male tone.
"I don't know," Carter said in a raspy tone. He tried to speak more, but it took a little while. "Maybe I would if I knew what was going on," he managed after a short amount of time that consisted of him wetting his mouth to speak.
"Okay," the voice said, sounding a little stressed. "Um... okay, let me start here. My name is Curt, and I was driving along this road when I saw you lying in the middle of it. I slammed on my brakes, but I skidded on the ice. I don't know if I hit you. Do you feel like I hit you?" He spoke slowly and clearly for the man he had just found on the road.
"I don't really feel anything, actually, but I don't think you hit me," Carter admitted. The man took his hand. Carter finally got the strength to look at the face of the most helpful person he knew at the moment. He was a small man, but had a full head of light brown hair, much lighter than his own. He wore a stressed look on his face, and his blue eyes showed it the most.
"Well no wonder you don't feel anything," Curt explained. "Your hands are ice cold... and are those... pajamas that you're wearing?"
"Yea," Carter said with a small laugh that made him hurt. His head had hurt already from the locker and door incident, but by this point it was pounding.
"Well, I don't know how you got here, but I think you really need some help."
Carter tried to think of the answer that would explain the man's confusion.
"Abby!" He almost yelled suddenly. This made his head hurt more as he jerked. "Ow!"
"What?" Curt asked.
"That's how I got here, I was supposed to get to Abby! Ow! Christ Almighty, my head!"
"Settle down," Curt advised. "Who's Abby?"
"She's uh..." Carter contemplated whether he should tell the man or not. 'Oh what the hell, I don't know him,' he figured. "She's this girl that, uh, well let's say she means a lot to me, and I kind of screwed up today, and I have to go apologize before she leaves for vacation."
"Oh," Curt said, still a little confused. "Well, I don't think that's going to happen tonight, sorry buddy."
"Crap. What time is it? And by the way, my name's Doctor John Carter."
"It's about quarter to one, and you're a doctor?"
"Damn it, and yes."
"So does this mean that I can call your work place?" Curt asked.
"Yes. Do you have a phone?"
"Yes I do. Do you have a number?"
"Yes I do," Carter said, ready to rattle off the number.
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
In no time, thanks to the fact that no one was stupid enough to hurt themselves this late at night, the paramedics arrived. He was put in a brace and taken back to work.
"Thanks for working the graveyard shift, you guys! You're all doing a wonderful job," Carter said with gratitude. Curt drove along behind the ambulance. He wanted to make sure everything was okay.
"What's your name?" one of the paramedics asked, not able to see his face.
"It's John. Well, call me Carter, actually. Yea, that would be better."
"Carter? That's you? I didn't even notice!" This was a paramedic he recognized, but he couldn't think of the name.
"Yep, it's me. I'm not having the best of luck today."
"I see that."
:*:*:*:*:*:*:
Carter heard the ER doors open and the wheels of the gurney that carried him rattling as he was pushed through the doors.
"All right, what's going on here?" said a familiar voice, undoubtedly Luka's.
The paramedic explained what was going on, but before he could say the name, Luka found it out.
"Carter?" he exclaimed in surprise.
"Yea. Boy, you're on a long shift," Carter pointed out.
"Lucky for you. Elizabeth is, too. She came down here to help me out when we got the call, considering that surgery does nothing this time of night."
"Ooh, a good team," Carter encouraged.
Carter's night went all but according to plan for him, while at the same time according to plan for the ER staff. The rest of the night consisted of Aspirin, a CT Scan that showed that all that had happened was a normal blackout, a cozy bed, and a very warm set of blankets. He was having a sleepover in the ER this time. It wasn't long until Carter dozed off into a light sleep, the thoughts of Abby going miserably on vacation invading his mind.
:*:*:*:*:*:*: