Title: Lose The Time


Author: Whoser-Chick


Summary: Will Carter's wounds ever heal? Eventually a Carby story.


Rating: R – for some rough language and drug use.


Disclaimer: The ER series and its characters belong to Constant C Productions and Warner Brothers. The plot of this story, however, is mine all mine! This story may not be redistributed in any way without the express consent of the author. No infringement is intended.


Spoilers: 11x01 –
One For The Road and 11x02 – Damaged. If you don't want to know what happens in these two episodes, then don't read this story, it goes into depth about 11x02 – Damaged.


Author's notes: I usually am not a spoiler reader, because I have done that in the past and have been very disappointed when I know everything that is going to happen in the episode. I like the surprise of not knowing and just watching to see. However, I wanted to see if Kem and Carter made it, so I broke down and read spoilers for the first few episodes of next season. I will not however read spoilers for any more episodes. So the fanfiction after 11x02 –
Damaged, will be of my own account and what I would like to see happen next season. This story will be very dark in places; it's actually really not a happy go lucky story until the end.

The story will eventually be a Carby story, but it's going to be slow going. I am not a Kem fan at all, and am virtually a die hard Carby. However, I do think that Carter really loved Kem and truly wanted the baby with her. I don't think he'd be able to get over the loss of Kem and the baby just like that, without a lot of trials and tribulations. And as much as I'd love him to just run to Abby and them get back together immediately, that is unrealistic in my opinion after what he's gone through. So this story will take a while to go in a Carby romantic direction, but it will. And a lot of the first chapter of this story is what I read about 11x02, Damaged (only the Carter and Abby parts of 11x02 are in this story), with my own spin on it though, since I have not actually seen the episode yet. Oh, and this story is written from a first person point of view, alternating between Carter and Abby's point of view, although a lot of the story is from Carter's point of view. The songs used throughout this story are: Letting the Cables Sleep by Bush and My Immortal by Evanesence.

Archive: , all others please ask first (and I will say yes, as long as you ask first).


Feedback: Yes, as long as it is constructive criticism. No flames please.


I'd like to thank my beta readers: Beth and Chrissy. Thanks for all your invaluable input. I couldn't have done it without you guys!

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Chapter One

You in the dark

You in the pain

You on the run

Living a hell

Living your ghost

Living your end

Never seem to get in the place that I belong

Don't wanna lose the time

Lose the time to come

Whatever you say it's all right

Whatever you do it's all good

Whatever you say, it's all right

Silence is not the way

We need to talk about it

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Carter's POV

She had said no; how could she have said no? I thought...I don't know what I thought. I guess I thought we'd make it through this, together, even though it would be hard. Hard was an understatement; hard was what I wished I were going through right now. This was devastating and even beyond that. I'd lost everything that truly mattered to me...Kem, the baby; they were everything to me.

Lying here in bed, the same thoughts running through my mind for the thousandth time, I looked at the clock and saw that it was 3AM. I had the TV on in the background with a John Ford movie on, although I wasn't exactly paying attention to it. I had a 7AM shift, but this was par for the course lately; sleep was non-existent. The thought occurred to me that I wished I had more night shifts and that maybe I should do something to rectify that. Anything would be better than lying here night after sleepless night rehashing everything that had happened between Kem and I. Especially in this house, the house I had bought for us, for the family we were going to have together. Now all I could think of was how much I hated it here, how I couldn't stand being in this house anymore and how I wanted to sell it so I wouldn't have to be reminded of our time together. My mind wandered back to the last time I had seen Kem.

I had asked her to marry me, but she hadn't responded right away. In fact, she hadn't responded for a few days. She had been in her own world since the baby had died, and barely even said two words to me. I was trying to comfort her, but it didn't seem to be working; she had really become withdrawn. I really did want to marry her though; I had loved her so much and still did. When she had finally responded to my proposal, at County in the lounge no less, it definitely hadn't been what I had expected or wanted to hear. She had told me that she had to go back to Africa, where she belonged, that she couldn't stay here anymore. I had offered to go back with her, that's how much I wanted to be with her. She said that she loved me very much, but couldn't be with me anymore. Every time she saw me, she said, she was reminded of what she had lost. I told her that my loss was great, too. I had wanted that baby, my son, just as much as she had wanted him. She said that she understood, but she just couldn't stay here anymore. She had to get away from Chicago...from me. And that was it; she had walked away from me. I had tried to go after her, but she had snapped at me to leave her alone. When I had returned home from work that night, all of her stuff was already gone, which meant that she had left to go back to Africa. If I'd've known she was going to leave that day, I would've fought harder for her and I would've made her listen to me, instead of just letting her walk away like I had. I hadn't heard from her since.

I turned over in my bed, trying to find a comfortable position to lie in, but nothing was comfortable while I was in this empty bed...all alone. Eventually, I somehow managed to fall into a restless sleep.

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Kem was holding a baby, my baby. We were together and everything was perfect; I was smiling and happy again. But then something was wrong...with the baby. He couldn't breathe because something was strangling him. I tried to run to him, to fix him. I was a doctor for heaven's sake, that was my job, but I couldn't fix him, I couldn't even get to him. Even though I was far away, I could see that he was turning blue and purple, yet I still couldn't get to him. It didn't matter how far or fast I ran I couldn't reach him. Kem was screaming my name and begging me to fix our son, while she was clinging to him for dear life. Why couldn't I get to them? Suddenly Kem's screams turned into hysterical sobs. "Our baby is dead, HE'S DEAD!" she screamed violently, shaking him as hard as she could, as if that would bring him back to life. "You killed our baby!" she screamed hysterically. I still couldn't reach either of them. I kept running and running, not getting any closer. Why was this happening? What had we done to deserve this? Right as I could finally reach out and touch them, they were gone, vanishing into thin air. And I was all alone once again.

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The loud beeping noise penetrated through my dreams and into my head, like a siren in the night. At first I didn't know where I was or what the annoying sound was. Obviously my body did, because my right hand automatically reached out and slammed down the snooze button on the alarm clock, ending the siren in the night noise. I fell asleep again in the nine minutes the snooze alarm gave me. When the alarm went off again, I bolted upright, soaked in sweat. I had been having another nightmare. Funny how nine minutes could seem like an eternity. These nightmares plagued me nightly and sometimes more than once a night. My right hand reached out once again, but turned the alarm completely off this time. It was exactly 6:09AM now and I was lucky if I'd gotten two hours of sleep last night. I yawned, stretched and wiped the sleep out of my eyes, in the process feeling how sweaty I really was. I forced myself out of bed, as I had to be at work in less than one hour, and, stripping off my boxer shorts and hopping in the shower, turned the water temperature to lukewarm. The semi-cool water running over my body felt good on my sweat soaked skin. I finished the shower and then quickly got ready for work. Weaver would have my ass if I was even one minute late. I thought about taking the El to work, but realized I'd most likely be late if I did so.

I walked out to my car, hurriedly, but when I tried to start it, the engine wouldn't turn over. I tried to start the jeep repeatedly to no avail.

"Piece of shit jeep!" I yelled out angrily to no one in particular. I slammed both of my hands down on the steering wheel, quite hard. Pain radiated through my hands, to my wrists and up both of my arms. "Shit!" I yelled again. This day was just starting out great. I really needed to get a new car. The El it was after all.

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The first thing I did when I got to work, ten minutes late I might add, was go check on Deb. She was in the hospital at County and I had been meaning to check on her for a while but just hadn't gotten around to it.

Now I was standing in the ambulance bay with Luka waiting for a trauma to come in. I was so tired that I felt like I was going to fall asleep standing up. I really needed to find a way to get more sleep.

"You look terrible," Luka said, with a concerned edge to his voice. He was looking at me intensely, really taking in my appearance.

I wanted to say, "hey, thanks, so do you," but I opted not to. I knew Luka meant well and was only concerned. I didn't really want to deal with this right now, so I kept the conversation light.

"You can't go to sleep while you're in the middle of watching a John Ford movie," I quipped, trying my hardest to crack a smile that I didn't feel. I think Luka understood, because he quickly changed the subject.

"Have you talked to Chen?" he asked.

"She's in a cast and will be having physical therapy," I said, fidgeting with my hands and looking down. I was happy she was all right.

"Pratt's stitches haven't even been taken out yet and he's calling Weaver to get back on the schedule," Luka said, cracking a smile. That was Pratt for you.

I didn't have a chance to respond because the ambulance rolled up at that precise moment. Our patient was a 20 year old male who was altered and had had a below the knee amputation six months ago, from what the paramedics told us. I also found out from his mother, who was with him, that he had been a driver in Iraq and a convoy had cut a corner and the vehicle he had been in had rolled over a landmine, causing the amputation and many skin grafts he'd had. And I thought I had problems.

I sighed; I was so damn tired I could barely see straight. I could already tell it was going to be a long day.

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The day was progressing slowly, just as I'd known it would, and I was in the process of giving my Iraqi soldier patient an LP. He had a sinus infection that had spread to his brain and we needed to isolate the infection. Sam was helping me and I was having a very hard time focusing. Between being tired and all the stress that was my life of late, I could barely hold it together. Part of me wanted to just run out of here screaming, but at least when I was working I could keep busy. After taking the sample from the LP, I saw the liquid was cloudy. I finally really got a good look at my patient and he looked as bad as I felt. I gave the sample to Sam and asked her to take it to the lab and make sure she watched the gram stain being performed on it. Things always seemed to get lost around here.

"Get some sleep," I said to my patient, knowing he needed the rest. I started walking out the door to the lounge, as I was going to need some coffee to get through the rest of this shift. I was fading and fading fast.

"I can't sleep," I heard him say softly. I could hear the sadness, tiredness and anger in his voice with his one comment. I turned back around and looked at him.

"I'll try and get you a quieter room," I said, knowing how noisy the ER could be at times.

"It won't make a difference," he said hoarsely. He paused and it looked like he was contemplating about whether he should open up to me or not. I started walking closer to him again, to encourage him. "In my dreams, it's still my face. I'm still the guy I used to be. But I always wake up...." he trailed off angrily. He looked away from me and I could see tears welling up in his eyes.

I wasn't quite sure how to respond. And although we were going through two totally different situations right now, I understood what he meant, more than he knew. I knew how it felt to wish things were the way they were before and to dream about it all the time. Part of me wanted to pour my sob story out to him, but I knew better than that. I gave him a quick smile and walked swiftly out of the room.

--------------------------------

I was standing at the admit desk, looking at the board and going through some charts when Jerry told me I had a phone call. From Africa. My heart skipped about a million beats. Who else did I know in Africa? It had to be her it just had to be. I practically ran to the phone, almost tripping over my own two feet. I ripped the phone from Jerry's grasp with my heart beating a mile a minute.

"Hello?" I said breathlessly. I waited anxiously to hear her voice, to hear her say she wanted to come back to me and that she'd made a mistake.

"Dr. Carter?" came the reply. It was a male's voice, not Kem. I could barely respond I was so disappointed. I barely even heard what he said after that, but it had something to do with the Carter Foundation making a donation of some sort. I told the guy I would call him back; my heart had just broken all over again.

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The rest of the day went by in a blur. I managed to get punched in the temple by a psych patient. It did enough damage to leave a nice red spot on my temple and I had a bandage on my eyebrow, because she had cut me pretty badly in the process. It also turned out that my soldier patient didn't want the surgery he so desperately needed. I tried to tell him that the surgery was minor, but all I got was an angry, "whatever" from him in return. I understood that he had a very rough life, but I wanted to help him out and didn't seem to be able to. I decided to stay and talk to him, although all I really wanted to do was go sit down in the lounge for a few minutes by myself. We talked about the war and also talked about his ex-fiancée. He had proposed to her before he left for Iraq, but once he was wounded he didn't want her to see him that way, and actually wouldn't let her see him. Again, even though it was a totally different situation, his words hit home.

"Would your ex-girlfriend give up on you so easily?" I asked. I know mine had, but I wanted to scream at him not to let her go, that he'd regret it for the rest of his life if he did. But that wasn't my place.

"She's good, but there are some things people can't get past," he said, referring to his leg amputation.

I tried to say something to help him, but nothing came out. This was just too close to comfort for me and it was eerie. Since there was nothing else I could say, I smiled politely and excused myself.

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Later on, I was back in the admit area and Luka was trying to look at the cut on my eyebrow. I waved him away.

"I think you should leave early, John," he said to me, looking quite concerned. I hated the looks he was giving me lately. Hell, I hated the looks everyone in the ER was giving me lately. Like I was some pathetic charity case or something. It was getting tiresome.

If I went home, all I would do was think of Kem and the baby. Of course it wasn't like I already wasn't doing that.

"I have a few more things to do before I leave," I said, rubbing tiredly at my eyes. I was so damn tired.

"I'll cover for you," Luka said, staring at me intensely still. I could see concern etched on his features. I was tired and he was trying to do me a favor. Maybe some sleep would do me a little good. I really suddenly felt like sleeping.

"Okay," I agreed raggedly, turning away and walking back toward the lounge. I could feel Luka's eyes on me from behind, but I kept walking. I went into the lounge and gathered up all my things. Once outside I was heading for the El and that's when I saw it: a father pushing a kid in a stroller. I almost choked for breath and the unabated tears sprung to my eyes, stinging them in the process. Suddenly I had no desire to go home, although I had no clue where to go or what to do.

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I found myself in a little dive bar down the street from the ER. I didn't really know how I'd gotten there; I was just walking and this was where I'd ended up. Is this what I really wanted to do? I somehow found myself sitting at the bar with a shot of tequila in front of me: only the hard-core stuff for me. I just stared at the shot; drinking would mean I'd be slipping. After my previous bout with drug use, I didn't even drink alcohol; it was a drug and any sort of drug was bad for me. I stared intensely at the shot for a while longer and it almost seemed to be calling my name. I picked it up and swirled the glass around in my hand for a moment. I remembered how it felt before to be on drugs, how for the time being they would make me forget and all I wanted to do was forget for a while. It wasn't like I was going to do this again; I just wanted to forget right now. Forget that Kem had ripped my heart out and that our baby had been stillborn. I wanted to forget about that father happily pushing his kid in a stroller outside the ER and I just wanted to forget about life for a while. I put the glass down and picked up the salt that the bartender had left on the bar for me. I poured some of it onto my left hand, licking it off as I picked up the tequila again, giving it one last look before bringing it to my lips and emptying the contents of it down my throat. It tasted awful and burned as it went down, but it felt good. I sucked the sour lemon for a moment and then sat the empty glass back down in front of me.

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Seven tequila shots later and I was totally drunk beyond all repair. I finally felt numb, the feeling I'd been searching for since Kem had left me. It was good to feel absolutely nothing for a while. I was positive I wouldn't feel this way in the morning when I was hungover, as I definitely would be, but at least right now I was feeling numb. I needed this; a reprieve for just a little while and the alcohol was just the thing to help me. There was one thought I couldn't get out of my mind though, my patient with the amputated leg. He had let his girlfriend go virtually because of pride and he was afraid because things were tough for him that she'd give up on him. Kem had given up on me when things got tough, but just because it had happened with me didn't mean it had to happen with him. I knew he would later regret letting her go, the way I let Kem go without fighting for her. I had to get through to him and let him know that he had to get her back or else he would regret it for the rest of his life.

I stood up and almost fell flat on my face; how I managed to keep my balance was beyond me. In my drunken state, I actually thought it was kind of funny and laughed out loud. The bartender gave me a weary look.

"I'm okay...I think," I slurred drunkenly. I laughed again and put my hands on the bar to steady myself.

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Somehow I made it back to the ER although I'm not quite sure how. The fresh air had sobered me up just about enough that I wasn't falling over anymore, but I was still wobbly on my feet and I could only imagine what I looked like. I really didn't care because I was on a mission. As I walked into the ER, I could feel two sets of eyes on me and when I looked up I saw that it was Luka and Abby. They were giving me strange looks with concern etched on both of their features.

"I thought you went home," Abby said to me, her eyes showing more than just concern, but also alarm. She wasn't stupid; she knew I was drunk because she'd been there before herself.

"I forgot to do something," I said as I quickly continued to walk toward my destination. I went into Curtain One, where my patient was and stood in front of him and pleaded my case.

"Bad things happen, but you and your girlfriend should try and get through this...Please, call her," I begged him, my voice coming out in a pleading manner.

I noticed that he had tears in his eyes, which was what was rapidly happening to me as well. I whipped out my cell phone and handed it to him.

"You can live through what happened to you, but you may never get over letting go of your ex," I said, staring him intensely in the eyes. I held onto the IV pole that was standing next to me for dear life. If I let go, I was going to fall and not just because I was drunk. Kem was gone; she was really gone and was never coming back. I finally noticed that my patient's mother was in the room and was staring at me wide eyed, obviously concerned for her own and her son's safety. Just as I was about to assure the mother that everything was all right, I felt a presence behind me.

"Dr. Carter, I need to speak with you," I heard Luka's voice say firmly and urgently.

"Call your ex," I said pleadingly as I felt Luka pulling me away from the room. "Call your ex," I begged again before Luka completely pulled me out of the room and into the lounge.

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Once we were in the lounge, Luka sat me down and stared at me for a long moment before beginning to speak. I felt like an animal in a research facility the way he was giving me the once over.

"John, I know you've been having a rough time lately," he said gently. Rough? Rough didn't even begin to describe my situation.

"It's like I was testing myself," I said, knowing that was the truth. My head was down and I could barely even look him in the eyes. He handed me a cup of coffee. I was so out of it, I hadn't even heard him get up and pour the coffee for me. I took it graciously and smiled at him.

"What else is going on?" he asked me, the concern again evident in his voice. I wasn't in the mood to discuss it, as I was still very drunk.

"Nothing, I'm fine," I said, obviously lying. The lie didn't even sound convincing to my own ears and I'm positive Luka didn't believe me anymore than I believed myself.

"You've looked bad all day and I'm not the only who's noticed," Luka said a bit harshly.

I looked up at him finally and sighed. Well I did get whacked in the face today and I could use that as my excuse.

"A woman from psych punched me today," I said, hoping he would believe the lie. I looked up at him and saw that he looked almost frustrated and looked as though he were about to lose it. His next words and especially his tone of voice surprised me.

"You can confide in me," he said gently and softly. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he meant it. We may not have always been the best of friends, but that was in the past. Africa had changed our relationship and we actually had a true honest to God friendship now. And he was right, if anyone knew what I was going through, it would be him. He had lost his entire family and on top of that, I did trust him. Probably more so than anyone else at this point. I decided to open up to him; I needed to open up to someone.

"I've been having trouble sleeping," I began tentatively. "I miss Kem, the baby, the life I would've had with them and I don't know how I'm going to get it all back." I felt tears stinging my eyes again. I definitely didn't want to cry in front of Luka, but wouldn't he understand? He didn't say anything, but put his hand on my shoulder and that was enough. I knew he understood.

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I was back in the admit area and was ready to finally leave. Luka had stayed with me in the lounge until I had sobered up a bit. I had my head down because I didn't want people to see me this way and Luka was right behind me. I realized right then that I didn't have my cell phone; I had given it to my patient.

"I lost my phone," I said quietly to anyone who would listen.

Abby seemed to appear out of nowhere and handed my cell phone back to me. I could see the concern in her eyes. I anticipated what she was going to say next and already had an answer.

"There's a meeting at St. John's, I could go with you," she said. Now the tables were turned and it was Abby offering to go to a meeting with me. Funny how things could change so quickly.

"I just slipped, I don't need to go to a meeting," I declared. It was the truth, because I was not going to get drunk again or use any other drugs.

"Do you keep in touch with your sponsor?" she persisted. Boy, this was sounding all too familiar.

"Yes and I'll be fine," I said a bit irritated. Now I knew how she felt when I had bugged her all of those times when she was drinking; and that's when it hit me squarely between the eyes. I was such a hypocrite, giving her crap when things were bad and she had turned to drinking. And here I was doing the same exact thing.

"All the crap I used to give you. Talk about a hypocrite, huh?" I said, trying to make amends to her.

"No sweat. We're all hypocrites," she said, letting me off the hook. I smiled gratefully at her and she smiled back and then turned around and walked away.

"Do you need a ride home?" I heard Luka ask from behind me.

"I took the train," I said turning around to face him, although it would have been nice to catch a ride home from him, I didn't want to bother him.

"Good night, Carter," he said, smiling at me.

"'Night...and thanks, Luka," I said as I turned back around and started to walk out of the ER and onto the street.

"Anytime...and I mean that," I heard him say. I turned around and smiled, waved and then headed back toward the El.

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By the time I got home I was exhausted. I lay down in bed fully clothed and closed my eyes. I felt myself almost falling asleep immediately. The alcohol had really knocked me out and it felt good to finally fall asleep. I slept that night and slept well with no nightmares; just an alcohol induced sleep. The last thought that ran through my mind was that maybe drinking alcohol before going to bed wasn't such a bad idea.