by Céindreadh
ceindreadh@eircom.net
(An alternative universe fic featuring Dave and Carter)
A different day in May - part 9
Previously on ER
Carter went to sleep on Dave's couch, only to wake a few hours later in a lot of pain. After unsuccessfully trying to retrieve his morphine from a sleeping Dave, he remembered the bottle of Vicodin that Dave had hurled against the wall and forgotten to clear up. Dave woke up while Carter was trying to take the pills and managed to get them back. On his way to flush them, he was attacked by Carter, who taking him by surprise managed to get his hands on the pills.
"Don't do it," said Dave, through a mouth that was already starting to swell. "Please Carter...don't you see what's happening? Don't take the pills..."
Carter bit his lip as he looked at his friend sprawled on the ground in front of him. As if in slow motion, he saw himself shaking out two pills into his hand...raising them to his mouth...and then swallowing them.
Carter closed his eyes and sighed as he swallowed the tablets. Thank God for Vicodin, he thought, knowing that the pain would soon be nothing but an unpleasant memory. This was what he needed...this was what he had needed all along...he leaned back against the wall and slowly slid to the ground. The pain was easing now...the cramps had subsided...the nausea too. He let his head fall back against the wall and sighed...everything was going to be all right now.
Dave managed to push himself up off the floor. His head was spinning, partly from the punch...partly from seeing the look on Carter's face just before he had hit him. With a groan, he sat back against the wall. This had all gone wrong...why hadn't he just called the Chief and let her deal with Carter...he should have known that he wasn't going to be able to do it. "Not again," he said almost to himself, closing his eyes. "Not again."
Carter had a half smile on his face as he opened his eyes. The smile faded as he saw Dave slumped against the wall opposite him. "Oh God," thought Carter as he saw Dave dab hesitantly a trickle of blood that was running down his chin. He looked uncertainly at Carter, pain and anguish in his eyes before turning away.
Carter felt sick at the dawning realization that he had done this to his friend...all for a couple of lousy pills...all because he couldn't go a few hours without them. Carter forced himself to look at the bottle of pills in his hand. How could he have been so desperate only a few minutes ago? The answer hit him like a ton of bricks.
"No," he moaned softly. The cramps...the nausea...he had seen it all before...but he had been the one watching in anguish as Chase had struggled to break free of his addiction. "I'm not like Chase," he told himself. "I...I can't be..." But in his heart he knew that he was.
Pushing himself up off the floor, he stumbled past Dave and into the small bathroom. Falling to his knees in front of the toilet, he jammed his fingers down his throat until he felt his muscles spasm, retching up the contents of his stomach. With only a moments hesitation he upended the pill container over the bowl and watched as the remainder of the Vicodin tumbled into the water.
Dave leaned against the doorframe and watched silently as Carter flushed the toilet and then sat back dejectedly on the ground.
Carter turned around and saw Dave watching him. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "I...I never meant to hurt you."
"It wasn't you...it was the drugs," said Dave, walking into the room and crouching down beside him. "You weren't in control." Glancing into the toilet bowl, he asked, "D'you think you absorbed any of the pills?"
"I don't know," said Carter, his voice bordering on hysteria. "Should I have fished them out of the water to check?"
"Hey, take it easy Hoss," said Dave, reassuringly as he patted Carter on the shoulder. "It's going to be okay."
"No it's not," said Carter, flinching away from Dave's touch. "It's never going to be okay...I...I couldn't even last a few hours without taking the Vicodin. What am I going to do?"
Dave could see that Carter was close to breaking down completely. "Okay Carter...you can get through this...just calm down a minute...you can beat this thing, you hear?"
"I...I don't know if I can," said Carter wrapping his arms round his knees and rocking back and forth. "I...I'm scared Dave...help me...I don't know what to do..."
Dave thought quickly. "What the Chief said to you earlier...about getting treatment...did she say anywhere specific?"
Carter looked up, "Some place in Atlanta...Mark said there was a place there that specialized in doctors who were...who were..." Carter closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. "He said it specialized in doctors with dependency problems."
"You mean doctors addicted to drugs," said Dave in as neutral a tone as possible. He wanted Carter to say it out loud...much as he hated the thought of it being true; he wanted his friend to admit he was an addict.
"Yes," whispered Carter, so softly that Dave could hardly hear him. "Doctor who are addicted to drugs...like me..."
Dave felt a surge of relief as he heard Carter finally admit it. Granted it was a long road from admitting a drug problem to successfully recovering from it...but it was the first step...and one of the hardest to do. "Okay," he said gently. "First thing we gotta do is get you to Atlanta. You got any cash?"
"What?" asked Carter, confused. "No...but I've got a credit card...Dave no...please, don't make me go there...can't...can't I stay here? You could help me go 'cold turkey'...please Dave..." There was genuine fear in Carter's face and voice. He knew that he needed to get clean...but the thoughts of going into Rehab...alone among strangers...he shuddered.
"Aw man," said Dave, "Sure I could help you go 'cold turkey'...I could keep you here...keep you safe until the drugs were out of your body." He leaned over towards Carter and tapped him gently on the forehead. "But they'd still be up there...until you can get your head round what got you onto them in the first place...until you can get past *why* you got hooked...you'll never be able to stay away from them...and I can't help you with that...you need someone who knows what they're doing...people who've been trained in this...shit, I barely passed my psych rotation...I can help you get clean physically...but not mentally...and that's where it counts." He looked at Carter with compassion.
Carter knew that Dave was right...after all, wasn't that what he had done to Chase...he had helped him get off heroin...for a little while...but he hadn't addressed the real problem...why he had started taking it in the first place...maybe it wouldn't have made any difference...he'd never know. "I...I understand," he said quietly.
They sat there in silence for a few minutes before Dave spoke up. "We should get going..." He pushed himself to his feet and held his hand out to Carter.
"I guess so," replied Carter as he let Dave pull him up off the floor. Something Dave had said earlier came back to him. "What did you mean...earlier...you said 'not again'...what did you mean?"
Dave let go of Carter's hand and stepped back. "It...it was a long time ago...I don't wanna talk about it," he said, pain evident in his voice.
Carter frowned, "You've done this before, haven't you?" he said, with a flash of insight. "You've tried to help someone with a drug problem."
"I said, I don't want to talk about it," snarled Dave, pushing past Carter and heading for the door. "It's none of your business. Now come on, we have to get to the airport."
"What happened? Didn't it work?" asked Carter as he followed Dave.
Dave turned around and faced Carter, "No it didn't work," he said angrily. "I got her clean...she swore blind she'd never touch the stuff again...and...and I believed her...and...and a few weeks later...I...I woke up and she was dead in the bed beside me...and I'd killed her Carter...if I'd made her get help instead of trying to play doctor, then she'd have been okay...but I didn't...and she died...and I'm not gonna let another friend down...not again...I'm not letting it happen again..."
"I...I'm sorry Dave...I had no idea..."
"How the hell would you have known? Shit, I don't exactly go round telling people that my girlfriend OD'd next to me and I didn't even notice cause I was too drunk." Dave took a deep breath, and when he spoke again his voice was noticeably calmer. "That's why you have to go to Rehab...I figured that if you got sick enough without your pills then you'd be able to see it for yourself."
"It worked," said Carter, managing a half smile. The smile faded as he realized that he was going to have to go through it all again...and this time he wasn't going to be able to get any relief from the pain. He shuddered at the thought.
Dave noticed the shudder. "They'll be able to help you out in Atlanta...they'll have IV's, and methadone and all that shit...it'll be bad...but it won't be as bad as doing it alone...they'll be able to help you Carter, you just gotta keep remembering that...they'll be able to help you...but you have to get there first...they can't help you if you don't go there freely."
Carter nodded. "I...I know...I...I'm scared...but I know it's the only way."
The announcement came over the PA system. "Flight 101 to Atlanta now boarding. All passengers please make their way to gate 7."
"Guess that's me," said Carter hesitantly as he stood up. His hands were shaking as he checked his ticket again.
"You sure you're gonna be okay on the plane?" asked Dave, concern evident in his voice.
"No...but I don't exactly have a choice...I can't put this off any longer..." Carter bit his lip hesitantly. "You...you'll phone Dr. Weaver...let her know where I am?"
"Sure thing man," said Dave.
Carter held out his hand to Dave. "I...I just want to say thank you...I mean, I don't think I'd ever have faced up to this without your help. I don't know if I'm going to beat this...but I know I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."
"Ah shit, Carter. Don't go all mushy on me," said Dave, trying to force a smile on his face, but failing miserably. He hated the thought of sending Carter off on his own, but the first flight to Atlanta had been almost fully booked when they had reached the airport, and the next available flight hadn't been until five hours later. It had a choice between sending Carter off alone or waiting for the later flight and have Carter go 'cold turkey' in the meantime. Neither option was satisfactory, but Dave hoped they'd made the right decision.
Instinctively Dave pulled Carter into a hug. "You're going to beat this Carter...you're tougher than anyone I know...hell, I'd never have survived even a day as Benton's med-student...you can get through this...I know you can."
"I hope you're right," said Carter softly, before breaking away from Dave. "I'll call when I get to Rehab...or get someone to call..." Gripping the ticket tightly, he headed for the check-in gate.
"Be well Carter," called Dave, watching as his friend handed in his ticket to the stewardess. "Be well," he said softly to himself as Carter disappeared down the boarding ramp.
Carter settled himself into the street and fastened the belt securely. Wiping his sweating palms on his top, he wondered how long it would be before the plane took off. The sooner the better as far as he was concerned...not that he was especially keen to get to Atlanta...but the less time on the ground...the less chance that he would chicken out and get off the plane.
The stewardesses seemed to be taking their time settling the passengers. Carter looked at his watch, sure that he had been waiting for hours, but only a few minutes had passed. "Oh God, when are we going to get going?" he thought as he rested his head against the seat and closed his eyes. He could hear the sound of last minute passengers moving up and down the plane and groaned as he heard someone settle into the seat beside him. "Dammit," he thought, hoping he wouldn't have to try and make polite conversation with someone all the way to Atlanta. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed then whoever it was would take the hint and leave him alone...or he could always pretend to be a deaf mute...that might work.
"I hear the weather in Atlanta is mighty fine this time of year," said a voice beside him.
Carter's eyes flew open and he looked in shock at his traveling companion.
"Long time no see," said Dave with a grin, enjoying the look of astonishment on Carter's face.
"Oh my God...I thought...there were no seats...oh God...you're coming with me?" Carter stammered.
"Unless you'd rather I stayed in Chicago?" said Dave, pretending to stand.
Carter grabbed his hand. "No...no...I mean, yes...I mean...I'm glad you're here," he said simply. "But how?"
"Last minute cancellation...I was almost sitting on top of the check in desk trying to charm the clerk...but she gave it to me anyway...figured I could phone the Chief as easily from Atlanta as Chicago." Dave continued in a more serious tone. "I know you have to do this alone...and I know it's not gonna be easy...but there's no sense in making it harder than it has to be. I'm gonna stay with you right to the door of the Rehab center in Atlanta...and as far past it as they'll let me...and when you're all fixed up and ready to come back to Chicago...I'll be waiting for you then. You're my friend Carter...and I'm gonna help you through this."
Carter could feel tears form in his eyes at Dave's words. "Thank you," he said softly. "I...I don't deserve a friend like you."
"Probably not," said Dave. "And after being stuck next to me for the next few hours you won't be feeling so kindly towards me. Hell, in a couple of hours, you'll be cursing my name for making you do this."
"No I won't," said Carter seriously. "I know it's going to be a long road...but I'll always be grateful to you for putting me on it."
The End