Welcome to the Graveyard Shift
By Kitchen_Sink5
kitchen_sink5@gurlmail.com

Disclaimer: I don't own ER, or its characters. I think you know that by now

Author's note: This is just a short little one part story that I wrote one night. I don't know if it's any good, and I'm sure it's been done, but this is where inspiration led me. It's a story about Carter, and I hope you enjoy



Just another evening, a December evening on a cold Chicago night. Having finished his shift, he headed to the lounge and grabbed his coat. Long shift, a long day. A good day though. He had saved people, and that's what counted. What also counted was that he was beginning to be able to save himself.

It had been so long since he could stand up and say that he was the healer. That he could make everyone's problems disappear. Because the truth was that now he couldn't heal himself. Every since that February night that he had become the patient, he had never fully regained the doctor part of himself. He had never regained the parts of himself that had faith, hope, assurance. Maybe he never would. But for now he could go on with being the healer, and slowly healing himself.

He decided that he didn't want to go home, so he headed over to Doc Magoo's for some coffee. As he drank, he rememberedd that it had been three months since he had come home - since he had come back from Atlanta. He didn't want to think about Atlanta. He didn't want to remember how careless and stupid he had been, he just couldn't. So he pushed the thought out of his head, and went back to drinking his coffee. Just then, the jukebox began to play:

Under the boardwalk
Down by the sea.
On a blanket with my baby
is where I'll be.

He immediately put the coffee cup down. He remembered that night over a year ago, when he had been searching for the father of Corinna. Correction - when they, he and Lucy had been searching for the dying girl's father. 'Under the Boardwalk' had been playing when they had finally found Nelson. He remembered being so happy that they found him......And then so sad when they had found out that it was probably too late for little Corrinna. He often wondered if Corinna survived.......Lucy didn't. Lucy died. Maybe that little girl did too.

The situations had a similarity.....Being so happy at first, and then so sad and guilty at the end. He had been so happy when he woke up and he was alive. He was injured, he was sick - But he was alive, and that counted for something. And then he had found out that Lucy didn't make it, that Lucy was never going to be grateful for the fact that she remained on this earth, in this world. You can't be grateful for something you no longer have. And that made him sad, that made him guilty, the fact that she would never be able to get up again. Never be able to smile, to talk to people, to save someone's life.

He now knew that he couldn't go home. Not yet. He payed his bill, and left the diner, getting into his car. He didn't even need to think about what directions to take....The car just steered itself to where it belonged. He got out of the car once more, walking for awhile, until he came to his stop. This is where the night had taken him.

He remained standing, but looked down at the grave. 'Lucy Knight'. It was so surreal to see those words in stone. You can erase pencil, white-out pen, but once you carve something, it is indeed 'set in stone'. Awkwardly he stood at the grave, and then quietly spoke.

"I don't even know if I'm suppose to talk outloud. Does it even matter?" He asked. "It matters to me, I suppose. I didn't bring flowers or anything......I kind of came over here with no warning, and the flowers aren't exactly in bloom right now." He breathed out, and could see his breath make a tiny cloud. "I'm sorry Lucy. I'm sorry.....I didn't fight the good fight that day. I didn't work hard to make sure that Paul was okay, I didn't work hard to make sure you were okay. I didn't fight those good fights. But I'm going to fight another one Lucy. And another, and another. I'll fight a good fight for you, a fight that you would fight if only you could."

His ears began to get cold, as well as his face and hands. He hadn't brought a hat or gloves, and he was beginning to freeze. He looked at the grave again, one last time and slowly began to back away, still looking at the grave.

"Goodnight Lucy......I mean goodbye. I have to go back to someplace warm."

And with that said, John Carter turned around and headed for home.