TITLE At the End of Chaos
RATING PG-13
SPOILERS Through season 11, episode 2
SUMMARY Carter has just left the ER, and now we switch back to Abby
AUTHOR'S NOTE Thank you thank you thank you for the reviews so far…it does my heart so good that people are reading and enjoying this fic!! I love writing Carby because they are so complex, and if I can get within even ten miles of portraying them, I'm happy!! Keep reviewing; I'll stop if you say so!!
ABBY
Carter left about an hour ago. I assume he went home, though if I were him that is not where I would want to be. Too many memories of what should have been…damn, I don't know how someone gets through this. I care for him so much that I…I just want to take it all away from him. If I could just suspend his pain for five minutes, just so he could have a break from it…but I can't. Once again, he's suffering and there's really nothing I can do to help.
I see Luka sitting at the admit desk. He's probably the only one here who has any insight into what happened to Carter. I know Carter better, but Luka knows the pain, and that's why I'm glad they've been able to become friends. If John lets him in, even in the tiniest way, Luka may be able to help ease him through this misfortune.
"Hey," I say quietly as I approach him, my now fellow doctor. I still can't quite get used to that. Despite my concern for Carter, the idea of being a fellow doctor gives me butterflies of joy.
"Hey," he responds, looking up at me from the chart in his hands. We've been fairly quiet in here today, so we have a few moments just to talk. Thankfully, that's why Carter was able to leave. I smile at him, leaning my back against the desk. He smiles back, and for a moment we aren't sure what to say. When did we get like this? Why don't we ever know what to say to each other? And, of course, when he does speak, it's on one of the only two issues we ever talk about: a patient. "How's that patient of yours? The little girl?"
"She's good. We, uh…we're trying to figure out exactly how to deal with that. She's scared, of course. She thinks her family wouldn't want her. I'm hoping I can convince her otherwise." And then it's silent again. After a moment, I switch to our other topic. "So, you sent Carter home?"
"I suggested it," He responds, nodding, looking up at me. "He was smacked by a patient, and he'd been dragging around here all day. I'd had several people comment on it, so I thought maybe it would be a good idea. I think…you know Carter. He wants everything to be okay, so he works." He clears his throat, looking down at his chart. "I know…I know how that feels, to need for it to go away, to avoid it." I touch his arm, so he knows I understand. "He's just going to need to give himself time." He looks back up at me then, and I think for the first time in months, we're really communicating. We're a team in this, and I like knowing that, maybe, between the two of us, we can pull Carter through it.
Just then a trauma comes in, and Luka and I are called to help. These are two young men, apparently lovers, beaten for being openly affectionate towards each other in the park. There is a third man with them, a friend, who is doubled over with concern for his friends. I hear something about the two injured men allowing him to understand that he was gay, but I am given the more serious of the two patients and have to focus on that.
"Time of death, 15:42," I say, having lost my patient. I leave the room, walking towards admit, noticing that Luka has stabilized his patient and is preparing to send him up to surgery with Corday. I am thankful that one of them survived, but I know the excruciating pain that the survivor will feel when he realizes his lover has died. That, I think, is one of the harder parts of the job. People die, and that's a part of life, but those who are left behind have so much pain to experience, and they don't even know how bad it's going to get when they leave here. And that's a wound we can do nothing about.
As I approach admit on my way to the lounge—I'm due for a coffee, if not an actual break—I notice Carter walking through. Strange, because I thought he'd gone home for the day. He seems like he's got a mission, and he seems…drunk? He's not stumbling, exactly, but he certainly doesn't look completely sober. He's oblivious to everything around him, and he enters the room of a patient he had earlier. I think it was a soldier back from Iraq, having been disfigured by an injury while in service.
I forget my intent to get coffee, and watch from admit through the door of the exam room while Carter talks to the patient, who appears to be accompanied by his mother. Carter looks intense, and the patient and mother look concerned. I hear someone walk up next to me, and when I look over I notice that it's Luka. He sees what I see, and wonders aloud about it.
"How long has he been in there?"
"Not long. Probably only five minutes." I pause. "I think he may be drunk." I sense Luka nod at this. As we watch, Carter hands the patient his cell phone, and is becoming more and more exuberant in his gesticulations. Luka and I both begin to move towards the room at the same time, sensing that the patient's mother's concern is heightening, and perhaps Carter is pushing the limits of concern for his patient. "Do you even know what happened with that patient earlier?" I say under my breath to Luka as we approach the room.
"No, I don't," he responds, opening the door. We are both smiling politely as we enter, not wanting to alert anyone in the room or out about the situation. Carter looks over at us, a slightly wild, passionate look in his eyes, becoming silent. I stop just inside the door, my arms crossed over my chest, while Luka moves closer to Carter. "Carter, can I talk to you?" Carter looks confused by this question, taking a moment for it to register. Luka takes one step closer to him, puts a hand firmly on his shoulder. "Now, Carter?" John still doesn't move at this request, and the two witnesses to this charade—the patient and his mother—are worriedly glancing at each other and back at Carter. Luka begins trying to gently but firmly move Carter away from the patient and out of the room, which is not having a calming effect on him.
"He heard you, Luka," I say quietly, but also firmly, taking a small step forward. Luka was never all that good at these situations; he doesn't understand the complexity of an addict. Carter is becoming somewhat panicky; whatever his intentions were in this room with this patient, he hasn't completed his task. He turns back to the patient.
"Please, call Karen again, you won't regret it," he pleads, a tear making its way down his cheek. And then, Luka leads him out and towards the lounge. I linger for a moment, assuring the patients that Dr. Carter is fine, he just feels very passionately about his patients getting the best possible care and attention. I make sure to get his cell phone back from them. Later, he may not even remember that this is where he left it. This may also be an excuse for me to talk to him, maybe coax him into going to a meeting.
When I leave the exam room, Carter and Luka are gone; probably to the lounge, so that they can talk. Hopefully Carter will open up a little, let Luka in.
Because I'm scared for him. Really scared.