Abby sat on the couch in the lounge, with Kerry right beside her. Peter sat on the arm of the couch right next to her, with his arm around her shoulders for support. Peter and Kerry exchanged worried glances over Abby's back as the detective in the chair began speaking.

"I'm Detective Paul Marcus. First, of course, I'd like to thank you all..."

"Just get it over with," Peter snapped. "We've got things to do."

Marcus nodded and leaned forward. "All right then. Mr. Benton..."

"Dr. Benton," Peter interrupted.

"Sorry, Dr. Benton, you found the victim?"

"Yes, I did," Peter answered shortly.

"And how is it that you happened to do that?"

"I didn't happen to do anything," Peter replied, his voice growing tight. "I was waiting for him, and when he didn't come back I went to find out why."

"And your initial response was to break the door down?"

"Only after the neighbor told me that there had been someone else in the apartment, and that she'd thought she'd heard Carter screaming."

"So you were worried about him then?"

"Of course I was."

"You say it was the mention of this other person in the apartment that made you suspicious?"

"Partly," Peter answered, feeling Abby's shoulders shaking under his hands. "Look, does she have to be here for this?"

"It's all right, Peter," Abby said softly, wiping her tears away again. "I need to hear this."

"Mister... Dr. Benton, if it was mention of a second person that made you break the door down, why then did you bring the victim..."

"His name's John," Abby interrupted tearfully. "Call him John. Call him Carter. Just stop calling him "the victim" like he's some... some... random person!"

Kerry reached out and took Abby's hand in hers, offering her as much strength as she could.

Marcus sighed and continued. "Why did you bring Mr. Carter..."

"Dr. Carter." It was Kerry's turn to correct the detective.

"All right, why did you bring Dr. Carter to the ER and initially call him a suicide attempt?"

"Because that's what it looked like to me, at that point in time."

"You knew someone else had been in the apartment, you knew the neighbor said she had heard screaming, you knew that you were worried because of these things...and you thought he'd tried to kill himself?"

"When I found him, that's what it looked like," Peter repeated through clenched teeth.

"And just where did you find him?"

Peter didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked down at Abby, and at the tears rolling down her face. He squeezed her shoulder tightly, wishing she were anywhere else right then.

"Dr. Benton? Where did you find Dr. Carter?"

"In the bathtub," he said finally.

"In the bathtub in the apartment?"

"Yes."

"And what was the vic... Dr. Carter's state of dress at the time?"

Peter shook his head, amazed at the questions this man was thinking to ask. "He was fully dressed."

"In what?"

Peter's jaw dropped, and when he glanced at Kerry he saw much the same expression on her face. "I don't remember! I wasn't exactly paying attention to what he was wearing."

"What were you paying attention to?"

"To the blood that was running down his arms!" Peter snapped, and immediately regretted it. Abby pulled away from him and stood, walking across the room to John's locker. She leaned her back against it and let her head fall back, closing her eyes. "Damn it... I'm sorry, Abby..."

Abby shook her head slightly. "I'm fine," she said softly. "I just needed to move, that's all."

Marcus nodded his head, and turned back to Peter again. "So you were looking at his arms then? At his wrists?"

'Oh, here it comes,' Peter thought, but said only, "Yes."

"How is it then that you managed to miss the very distinctive rope marks?"

Abby shot up straight from John's locker. "The what?" she asked, looking to Kerry and then to Peter for an answer. "The rope marks? What rope marks?"

"Abby," Kerry began, standing and walking toward her. "You knew that he didn't try to kill himself. You knew that someone did this to him."

"Well, yeah, but..."

Kerry reached out and placed her hand on Abby's arm softly. "I told you there was more than you knew..."

"But rope marks?" Abby exploded at Kerry, yanking her arm away. "So...what, they tied him up? Why wouldn't you tell me that? And you were only talking about his neck. You didn't say anything about..." Abby froze. "No... oh no..." She went white as she realized why Kerry had been reluctant to explain the bandages around John's throat. "Oh my God."

Abby's knees buckled under her, and Peter jumped up from the couch, barely catching her before she crumpled to the floor. "Abby? Abby!"

"Is she okay?" Marcus asked, standing and turning to face them.

"She'll be fine," Kerry answered. "But we'll have to finish this later. Peter, put her on the couch. Put her feet up."

"No," Abby protested, shaking her head and grabbing onto Peter's shirt. "No, I'm all right. I'm just... I just need a minute. I'll be fine."

"I really think you should lie down, Abby..." Kerry was interrupted by Haleh bursting through the door.

"Dr. Weaver, we need you. Now!"

She was with him.

He felt her lips against his face; he heard her voice right beside him, speaking so softly. "I'll be back. I'll be here when you wake up."

'No, Abby, don't go yet,' he begged with his mind, trying to force himself to move. 'I'm awake. I'm awake!' He wasn't awake enough, however, and his muscles would not respond. He heard her footsteps as she walked out the door, and let himself start to slip back into the darkness.

He felt breath on his neck, and his heart jumped into his throat. Had she heard him and come back? But no, it didn't feel like her. It was someone else. It was...

"I'll be here when you wake up. And I'll take real good care of you."

Fear and desperation engulfed him again when he heard that voice. This man he had called his friend for so many years, this man who had tried to kill him, this man who was standing beside him now. Carter fought to move, the sedative's effects still lingering in his muscles. If there was someone else in the room, maybe he could tell them, make them understand. Haleh had said no one would hurt him here. He prayed that she was still around to keep her promise.

"This would have been so much easier if you'd just stayed where you were," the voice continued. "Now, you're here, and this is going to have to get messy."

Carter concentrated as hard as he could, and was relieved when he felt his finger move. His body was starting to respond. He had a chance now, if he could just get Haleh's attention... He opened his eyes slowly and looked around, and felt all the air rush out of him when he realized that he was alone with him again.

"Hey, Carter," Dave hissed. "I'm glad you decided to wake up for this. I would have hated to do it when you were totally helpless." Dave tugged roughly on the restraint around Carter's right wrist and laughed. "Oh, wait, you are totally helpless. Man, that has got to suck."

Carter fought against his sluggish muscles, once again cursing the tube down his throat that kept him from calling out for help. Where was everyone? Why had they all left? Why had they left him alone with Dave? Didn't someone know that it was Dave who had done this to him?

"On the plus side," Dave continued, his hands moving rapidly below Carter's line of sight, "we've got access to your beloved fentanyl again."

Carter shook his head weakly, his eyes pleading with Dave to just leave him alone. He'd meant it earlier when he'd said he'd forget about everything if Dave would just leave, and he would have meant it then, had he been able to say it. He just wanted to be left alone. He was already feeling the beginnings of what would be a hard withdrawal from the heroin Dave had given him. He knew how hard it would be for him to regain control over his recovery at that point. If he had fentanyl again, he didn't think he'd be able to resist it.

"Nah," Dave said dismissively, shaking his head. "No, I think we've had our fill of opiates today, don't you Carter? So let's try something else then. Why don't we try a nice vasoconstrictor this time then? How about..." Dave held the syringe up just high enough for Carter to catch a glimpse of the needle, but not far enough to be seen through any of the windows. "...a couple amps of epi? How many should we go for, Carter? Two? Three?"

Carter jerked his head to the side as hard as he could, trying to dislodge the ET tube once more. How long had everyone been gone? Minutes? An hour? How long would it be before someone came back? He had to get the tube out so he could talk to them, yell for them. Where was Haleh? Where was Abby? Where was Peter?

"I think three ought to be enough," Dave continued, ignoring Carter's struggles. "After all, we wouldn't want to overkill, now would we?" Dave chuckled to himself at his wit. "Oh, I kill me. No, wait... I kill you."

Carter's arms and legs started responding to his commands finally, and he pulled against the restraints. If he could make enough noise, maybe he could get someone to notice. Maybe he could get someone, anyone, to walk through that door and make Dave go away.

"Oh, that Versed is finally wearing off I see. Guess I'd better get a move on then." Without another word, Dave slipped the needle under Carter's skin, sliding it around a bit until he found what he was looking for. "You know, all through Med School, they always said 'Never give epi in a vein.' Now, I don't know about you, but I've always wondered what would happen if I did. Ahhh... there it is."

Carter felt a burning sensation as the epinephrine made its way directly into his bloodstream, and he jerked his arm as far away as he could. The tip of the needle broke off and remained embedded in his skin, and Dave dropped the syringe to the floor. It rolled under the gurney where Dave couldn't see it any more.

"Damn it!" Dave yelled, his eyes darting around immediately to make certain that no one had heard. He saw Luka standing in one of the curtain areas outside the window, and cursed himself silently when the man started to turn his head. "Well, Carter, I think it's time for me to go now." He reached out and patted Carter on the shoulder, making it look to Luka as if he were doing nothing more than comforting a friend. "You have a nice life now. Well, what's left of it anyway."

And then he was gone.

Carter was alone in the room. He could almost trace the path the epinephrine was making through his veins, inching ever closer to his heart. How much longer before it got there? How many minutes did he have left to live?

He closed his eyes and listened to the heart monitor, concentrating on the steady rhythm it was counting. He heard the first syncopated beat, and he started keeping track of the seconds in his mind. He lost count quickly, and soon couldn't even remember why he had been trying.

Luka walked into the room only moments after Dave had exited, and he walked to the gurney slowly. He looked down at Carter's face, and was surprised to see Carter looking back at him. "You're awake!" Luka said cheerfully. "Let me go get Kerry then, and we'll see about getting that tube out, all right? Abby will be so glad to see you..."

Carter blinked and tried to focus on Luka's face, but his vision was growing blurry. His left eye was almost entirely useless. The fingers of his left hand were starting to tingle, but he couldn't understand why he should be alarmed about that.

Luka turned to leave the room, but was stopped by the scream of an alarm behind him. He spun quickly, checking the readouts on the machines, and was shocked by what he saw. Carter's blood pressure, which moments before had been perfectly normal, was skyrocketing. "Carter?" Luka asked in alarm, snapping his fingers in front of the young doctor's face, trying to get his attention. "Carter, what's wrong? What's going on?"

For less than a heartbeat, cloudy brown eyes locked with clear dark ones, and Carter used the last ounce of his strength to think of Abby. Then, as Luka watched, Carter's eyes fluttered before rolling back in his head, and closing.

"No!" Luka bellowed, startling Haleh, who had just walked in. "Haleh, get Kerry!"

"She's with the..."

"I don't care where she is! Get her now!" Luka glanced once more at the blood pressure monitor, dismayed to see that the numbers had climbed again. "He's stroking out!"