A different day in May - Part 4/9
by Céindreadh
ceindreadh@eircom.net
(An alternative universe fic featuring Dave and Carter)
Previously on ER
As Carter hurried away from the Intervention in Curtain 3, Dave caught up with him and
invited him for drinks. Carter accepted in order to avoid Benton trying to persuade him to
seek help. Later in the bar, Carter told Dave that he had quit working at County. While
Carter left to go to the bathroom, his cell phone rang and Dave answered it, pretending to
be Carter and heard Kerry apologize to 'John' for confronting him over his addiction. Dave
hung up, but not before jumping to the conclusion that Carter was an alcoholic. Carter
returned from the bathroom feeling a lot more confident. Meanwhile, Kerry and the other
'interventionists' debated how best to help Carter, finally coming to the conclusion that
they should phone Dave on his cell phone, but not tell him about Carter's problem.
Kerry asked Dave to keep Carter at the bar until Mark and Peter arrived. He agreed, and
was about to tell them where he was when he realized that Carter wasn't where he had left
him. In his haste to find Carter, Dave forgot to tell Kerry the location of the bar.
Disgusted by Dave's lack of help, Peter set out to Carter's apartment to wait for him to
come home.
Carter made his way out the back exit of the bar and circled the building to get back to
his jeep. "Another half hour or so and I'll be home," he told himself as he
fumbled for his keys. "And no one will be able to bother me."
Carter unlocked the jeep and quickly slid in behind the wheel. Adjusting the mirror, he
cursed under his breath as he saw Dave's bike in the back. "Damn, damn, damn,"
he said, banging his head against the steering wheel in frustration. He couldn't just
drive off and leave Dave stranded here. Okay, it wasn't too far from his apartment...Dave
could easily walk it...but the bike was Dave's sole means of transportation. Carter
couldn't just drive off with it...especially since he wasn't planning on seeing Dave any
time soon. Carter sighed as he took the keys out of the ignition. Turning to open the
door, he yelped in surprise at the sight of a face squashed up against the window.
"Malucci, get away from there," snapped Carter. Dave stepped back and Carter
opened the door, and climbed out. "What the hell did you do that for? You scared the
crap out of me."
"Not literally, I hope," said Dave. "I came looking for you...why'd you run
out on me like that?"
"I didn't run out on you," said Carter. "I...um, I wanted a cigarette and I
figured I wouldn't be able to light up in there...so...so I came out here...and I was just
going to use the car lighter...that's all...I was going to come back in."
"Oh, okay," said Dave, wondering whether to believe him or not. He supposed that
Carter could be telling the truth, but he wasn't sure.
"What...what did Dr. Weaver want?" Carter asked hesitantly. Dave didn't seem to
be looking at him any differently, so maybe she hadn't told him anything.
Dave looked Carter in the eye. "She wanted to know if you were okay...thought you
might be a bit upset after today...I guess she was worried after you quitting like
that."
Carter breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God for Kerry and her discretion. He should have
known that she wouldn't tell 'motor mouth' Malucci about any rumors. "I hope you told
her I was fine," he said to Dave.
Dave shrugged, "You probably shouldn't have run off like that...earlier I mean. The
Chief sounded worried."
"Yeah...well I'll call her in the morning...let her know there's nothing to worry
about," lied Carter.
"So, d'you wanna come back inside?" asked Dave.
"Actually...it's been a busy day...I think I'd rather go home, if that's all right
with you."
"Sure, whatever...our seats are probably gone by now anyway," said Dave.
"You don't mind giving me a ride to my place?"
Actually all Carter wanted to do was get as far away from Dave and any reminder of County
General as he could, but he knew it would be bad manners to let Dave cycle.
"Sure...you're not too far from here, right?"
Carter pulled up in front of Dave's apartment block and switched off the ignition.
"Need a hand getting the bike out?" he asked.
"Yeah, thanks," said Dave, wondering what excuse he could use to get Carter up
to his apartment. Usually with a chick he had the excuse of 'showing them his CD
collection'...or offering them a nightcap...but he didn't think Carter would fall for
either of those lines. But he couldn't just let Carter drive away to God knows where.
Somehow he had to get him up to the apartment and distract him long enough to call Dr.
Weaver. Benton and Greene were probably in the bar and cursing him by now...shit. Dave
groaned as he realized that in all the commotion he hadn't managed to tell Weaver where
exactly the bar was. "The Chief is gonna kill me," he said without thinking.
"What's the matter?" asked Carter, hearing Dave's groan.
"What? Uh, nothing...just something I was supposed to do," replied Dave quickly.
Carter looked at him suspiciously for a second before getting out and unlocking the rear
of the jeep.
Dave slid out of the jeep and joined Carter as he tried to pull the bike out.
"It's stuck," grunted Carter, as he pulled unsuccessfully.
"Be careful," warned Dave, "You'll damage it if you drag it out."
"Just so long as it doesn't damage my jeep," snapped Carter.
"Look, it's caught on something," said Dave, "Hang on a minute, let me
climb in and free it."
Dave clambered carefully over the bike and felt around underneath it. "Try it
now," he ordered. "And be careful."
Carter rolled his eyes and yanked strongly on the bike...too strongly. The bike moved
faster than Carter had expected it too. With a yelp, he jumped back out of the way...lost
his balance and landed in a puddle of water as the bike crashed to the ground a few inches
away from him.
Dave swore as he jumped out of the jeep and crouched down beside his bike, examining it
carefully for signs of damage. He breathed a sigh of relief as he failed to spot any
scratches or dents that hadn't been there previously. Belatedly he remembered that the
bike might not have been the only casualty of the incident and looked over at Carter who
was sitting up and looking very pissed off.
"Um, Carter...are you okay?"
"Do I *look* okay to you?" snapped Carter. "Help me up."
Dave scrambled over to his friend and yanked him up out of the puddle. "How's your
back?" he asked with concern.
"My back is fine," said Carter. "But look at these...they're ruined."
He indicated his trousers. Not only were they splattered with muddy water but there was
also a long streak of oil down one leg.
"They're not ruined," said Dave, patiently. "A little bit of soap on the
oil stain...toss 'em in the wash and they'll be good as new."
Carter looked at him coldly. "Do you have any idea how much these cost? They're dry
clean only."
"Yeah? Well you shouldn't have been wearing them in the ER," snapped back Dave.
"Look...I'll pay for the dry cleaning...okay?"
Carter sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. "No...no...you don't have to do
that. It was my fault...I should have been more careful..." His voice trailed off as
he saw a smirk appear on Dave's face. "What are you grinning at?"
"Take a look at your hands," suggested Dave, trying not to burst out laughing.
Carter did so, and groaned as he saw the smears of oil on them. "It's in my
hair...right?" he asked resignedly.
"And on your face," snickered Dave. In spite of his amusement, he suddenly had a
great idea. "Look, you can't drive home like that. Come on up to my place...get rid
of that oil...and I can lend you a pair of sweatpants...okay?"
"Yeah...okay," said Carter reluctantly. All he really wanted to do was go home,
but he supposed he could take the time to get cleaned up. After all, he didn't really want
to ruin his seat covers by dripping all over them.
Dave refrained from punching the air triumphantly and instead grabbed his bike. He had
successfully gotten Carter away from the alcohol in the pub...now all that remained was to
get any alcohol in his system away from Carter.
As the two men climbed the stairs to Dave's apartment, he pondered the problem. Dr. Weaver
and Benton had obviously tried their best to get Carter to go off the booze. But it was
clear that they hadn't succeeded. Now Dave wondered if calling the Chief and letting them
know where Carter was would be such a good idea. They couldn't exactly drag him back to
County kicking and screaming...and he was unlikely to go willingly. Dave reluctantly
decided that he was the only one in a position to help Carter dry out...shit, how the hell
had he gotten himself mixed up in this. The right thing to do was to call Kerry and let
her handle it...but then she hadn't exactly done a good job so far.
By the time they reached the apartment, Dave had made a decision. He wasn't on duty for
another 24 hours. That should give him enough time to get through to Carter...and if he
couldn't...well then he'd call the Chief and let her give it her best shot.
"Okay, there should be plenty of hot water," said Dave as he showed Carter to
the bathroom. "If it runs out, then just kick the boiler a few times." He handed
Carter a faded, almost threadbare bathrobe. "Stick this on you when you're finished
and I'll try and find you something to wear. Oh, and see that red jar? That works wonders
getting oil stains off...there's plenty of towels." He grinned, "You're lucky I
did my laundry yesterday...anything else you need, just holler."
"I think I've got everything," said Carter quietly.
"Okay then...I'll just put something on for dinner...pasta okay with you?"
"I'm not really hungry."
Dave shrugged, "Well, I am...I'll do enough for two...if you don't want it, then
it'll do me for tomorrow."
Carter nodded as Dave left the room. A few minutes later, he was standing naked under the
shower jet, letting the water cascade over his aching body. Ah, that was good, he thought
as he slowly massaged his scalp. Not quite as effective as a quick shot of fentanyl...but
an acceptable temporary substitute...shit...Carter groaned as he realized that he wouldn't
be able to take anything until he got back home...after all, he couldn't exactly shoot up
with Dave watching...and it would look a bit weird if he insisted on bringing his jacket
with him, going to the toilet. Oh well, he thought...I can handle it...it'll only be an
hour...two at most...I'll have some pasta with Dave and then I'll go home...and then I can
take something...I'll be fine...I'll be fine, he repeated over and over as the dirt was
washed away.
Carter tied the bathrobe around him and opened the door to the bathroom. He hoped that
Dave had found some clean clothes for him. There was something disconcerting about
wandering around a guy's apartment wearing only a skimpy bathrobe. It just didn't seem
respectable.
All thoughts of respectability fled from his mind when he got as far as the living area.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped angrily.
Dave looked up guiltily from where he had just started to search Carter's jacket.
"Carter...this isn't what it looks like...I swear."
To be continued