Behind The Mask




When Robert and Peter walked into the reception area, the receptionist simply waved them into Hank's office. Hank was finishing up with a telephone call as they sat down across from him.

"That's fine. I'll get back to you on that. Bye." Hank hung up, then smiled at Peter. "I'm glad to see you, Doctor Benton. We were trying to reach you earlier today."

"I was on my way here. Doctor Romano mentioned something about an experimental surgical procedure that you think would be beneficial to Carter?"

Hank nodded. "My understanding of the surgery is that it's loosely based on how they think acupuncture works. Doctor Laenger can explain it in more detail, if you'd like to speak with him about it."

Peter nodded. "I'd like that. So, you're saying that Carter's pain is not psychological?"

"Right. We weaned him off the majority of his pain medication the first week he was here. He's in a lot of genuine pain, and it does limit his mobility. We've also got him on an anti-depressant, but those can take a few weeks before a patient sees any noticeable differences. And when he can't sleep, we do give him something for that. He's reluctant to take it, so we don't insist on it too often. He did tell us that his physician did give him a prescription for sleeping pills and he took them for about a week, with a lot of success, but he stopped because he didn't want to become dependent on them. We've tried to assure him that it won't happen, but he's been fairly stubborn about it."

"And this is the same physician who kept giving him a prescription for the pain meds?" Peter asked.

Hank nodded. "That's right. John won't say much about this doctor, but I'd like to get a chance to speak with him. I just haven't tried to track him down yet. All we know is that he's in the Chicago area."

"What's his name?" Robert asked. "I wouldn't mind asking him a few questions myself."

"There isn't a first name on the bottle, just an initial and the last name. D. Anspaugh. Heard of him?"

Robert and Peter exchanged surprised looks. "Are you sure that's the right name?" Robert asked.

"Here, read it for yourself," Hank handed him the bottle.

Even as Robert's eyes confirmed the name, he still couldn't believe what he was seeing on the label. How could Donald Anspaugh continue to prescribe pain medication to Carter? Why would he?

"We know him. He's on staff at County General," Robert replied. "He used to be the Chief of Staff."

"I guess that explains why John doesn't want to talk about him and his treatment."

Robert once more glanced over at Peter, taking in how angry the man was over this piece of information. As for himself, he would reserve his anger until he could speak to Donald in person. Robert decided that now would be a good time to change the subject, get Peter's mind centered on something else.

"I didn't get anywhere with Carter about allowing Laenger to examine him. He did agree to think about it, though."

"That's more than he's done for us."

"Hank, I'm very concerned about his mental and emotional health. You said you weren't sure if he was suicidal." Robert told Hank about the conversation he had with Carter. "He said that he's thought about 'putting an end to things' even since he's been here."

Hank slowly nodded. "He hasn't said anything like that to me. Or to Doctor Davis, either."

"Is she a psychiatrist?"

"Yes. Our treatment teams usually consist of two psychiatrists and a general practitioner. Doctor Davis has been working with John on his depression. I was working with him on his drug dependency."

"Carter carries a lot of guilt, Hank. It's not just from the stabbing, either. He feels guilty over the fact that his cousin is brain damaged. He told me that he should have let his cousin die when he came in to the E.R. after overdosing on heroin."

"That would be Chase, right?" Hank asked.

Peter nodded. "That's right. It wasn't until I mentioned Chase to him that Carter realized that he did have a problem. I think that Doctor Romano is right about Carter feeling a lot of guilt over other issues. Last year he was on a paramedic ride along that ended with him accidentally running over a teenager. Later, one of the paramedics was shot. Carter was convinced the bullet had been meant for him, since he'd been the one driving the rig."

"I remember that," Robert said. "You and Donald operated on the paramedic, right?"

"Right. He had been shot so many times that we couldn't save him. The point is that Carter blames himself for Audia's death. Just as he blames himself for the condition that Chase is in. And I think he blames himself for the death of Dennis Gant.

"Who is that?" Hank asked.

Peter hesitated to answer, not sure how much he say in front of Romano. He finally decided that since Romano was here, he obviously was supportive of Carter and not planning to hurt him. "He was a surgical intern on the same team with Carter. Gant was...struggling. I was giving him a hard time, as usual. I gave all of my students a hard time back then. It took Gant's death to make me realize that being a hard ass on medical students was not always the right way to teach them. Not only was Gant a friend of Carter's, but they were roommates as well."

"What happened to him?" Robert asked. He had heard a lot of things about Peter Benton, but he hadn't ever heard that he had lost an intern.

"One morning, we had a man brought in to the E.R.. He had either fallen in front of an El train or had jumped. Not that it really mattered. It was obvious that we weren't going to save him, but we tried anyway. Gant was supposed to be covering the E.R. that day and we had him paged. The pager on the victim began to go off and we discovered that our victim was Dennis Gant. When I say 'we', I mean Carter and I."

"Jesus," Robert muttered.

"Go on," Hank said. "John hasn't spoken about his past too much. At least not to me."

"The police ruled that Gant fell, but a lot of us didn't agree with that. I know that I didn't, even though I wanted to believe it. I know that Carter didn't. Carter tried to get me to talk about it with him, but I couldn't. There was a staff psychiatrist available to speak with people who had worked with Gant and I think that Carter saw her a few times. He had an easier time getting past Gant's death than I did. At least I thought he did. He never finished his intern year. He was about a month shy of that when he asked to transfer his residency to trauma. Donald Anspaugh agreed to his request. I didn't know about it until it was a done deal. Shocked the Hell out of me because I had worked with Carter for three years, ever since he was a third year medical student. During that entire time, all I ever heard from him was how much he wanted to be a surgeon. He was good at it, too. But, he doesn't think like a surgeon. He didn't then and he doesn't now. I spent a lot of time that first year trying to persuade him to give up on the idea and pursue a different residency, but he persevered and I admired him for that. He even operated on me when I had appendicitis." Peter smiled at the memory. At the time, it had not been funny. He had practically begged Doctor Hicks to do the surgery, but she had let Carter do the procedure. Peter had known that Carter was showing off the photographs from his surgery and that he claimed to have kept the appendix. He vaguely wondered if Carter still had it.

"Hank, I brought Carter's medical and personnel files with me. I was thinking we could go out to dinner and talk some more." Robert patted his briefcase.

"That would be good. I don't have any plans for dinner."

"Peter? Care to join us?" Robert asked.

"I'd rather visit with Carter. Which reminds me. Tomorrow is his thirtieth birthday. His grandparents flew down with me and we wanted to see if he would be allowed to leave the premises for a birthday lunch or dinner. Would that be all right?"

"Just you and his grandparents? Not his parents?" Hank asked.

"No," Peter sharply replied. He wasn't interested in talking about that particular couple right now.

"I see. I don't have a problem with it. I'll check with Doctors Davis and Maxwell, but I think they won't object. John has been here for almost three weeks and he's made good progress. I'll let you know in the morning."

"That sounds good. Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find Carter." Peter got to his feet and left.

"I'm glad he came down. If he tells John that the surgery is a good idea, then John will listen to him." Hank said as he slipped out of his lab coat and reached for his sports jacket.

"They do seem to have a special bond, don't they?" Robert said. "Peter operated on Carter after the stabbing."

"John mentioned that. He said that he went under the anesthesia with very little apprehension because he knew that Peter was going to be operating on him. He has a lot of respect for Peter Benton and is still upset that he struck him during the intervention."

"Carter mentioned it to me. He's still upset with himself about it." Robert shook his head. "I've never heard of Carter striking anyone."

"People backed into corners tend to do desperate things, Robert."

"I know, Hank. You don't need to remind me about that." Robert reached into his briefcase and pulled out his cell phone. "I need to make a quick call before we leave."

"Take your time. I still need to lock these files away. Would you mind if I asked Jim and Chelsey to join us? I know they'd want to learn more about John."

"That's fine with me."

As Hank called the other doctors and cleared his desk, Robert called his secretary, letting her know that he was going to be in Atlanta for a few days. "And be sure to let the department heads know where I am. Especially Kerry Weaver. You can even let her know that I left after getting an urgent phone call from Atlanta. Just don't tell her who it was from." Robert laughed as he listened to what his secretary had to say about that. "Right. I'm all of that and then some. Just make sure that she knows. I'll call you in the morning." Robert ended the call, a smile on his face. He wanted Kerry to wonder who had called him from Atlanta. Wanted her to worry. He hoped that she would go to Mark and share her worry with him. Then they could worry together. It would serve them right to be on pins and needles for a few days. When Peter returned to Chicago, he could tell them the truth of where he went. But, until then, Robert didn't see any reason why they shouldn't worry.

"They'll meet us in the parking lot," Hank informed him.

"Let's go." They left the building and headed for Hank's car.

Peter went to the cafeteria and found Carter sitting alone at the end of a table, pushing his food around on the plate.

"Not hungry?" Peter asked as he sat down across from him.

John looked up sharply, then smiled. "Hey. What are you doing back here?"

"I told you that I'd come down for your birthday, remember?"

"I remember you saying that. I just didn't expect you to actually do it. Did you know that Romano is here?"

"I ran into him. He's concerned about you, just like the rest of us."

"Yeah," John looked down at his plate and decided that his green beans really did look better on the other side of the plate after all.

"Your grandparents flew down with me."

John looked up, surprised at the news. "They did?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. They had to do some business dinner tonight, but they'll be here in the morning."

"My parents didn't come?" John couldn't keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.

"No. You know, I think the food would be better for you if you actually ate it."

"I'm not very hungry."

"You still need to eat."

"That's what they keep telling me. I did eat a few bites of the mashed potatoes."

"Do you think they'd let me buy a plate? I'm starving."

"You can have mine," John offered, hoping that Peter would relieve him of the food.

"I think you need to eat your own food. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, Peter was back. The food actually tasted good, but then he figured that with the prices charged by the clinic, it should.

"Not bad. Better than what we get at the hospital," Peter commented.

"I guess."

"I heard about the surgical technique that Doctor Laenger has developed to treat chronic pain."

John pushed his plate away, sighing heavily. "Not you, too? I've already had Doctor Romano trying to convince me to see Laenger. I don't want another operation. Period. End of discussion."

"So, you're telling me that becoming addicted to your pain medication didn't scare you?"

"Of course it scared me. It still does."

"Then why aren't you willing to try something that can make it possible for you to be pain free? Your pain is real, Carter. What's going to happen when you leave here and return to Chicago and the pain is still there?"

"I'll learn to live with it. Just like Weaver does. Just like Kovac does. Just like a million other people do every day."

"And a lot of those people try to find ways to eliminate their pain, Carter. There are a lot of alternative methods for pain control, have you considered any of them?"

"You mean like acupuncture?" John shook his head. "The last thing I want is someone sticking a lot of sharp needles in my back. I've already had one sharp object shoved there twice, thank you very much. I don't need more."

"You know that acupuncture is nothing at all like being stabbed. You're just being stubborn."

"It's my pain and my body. I can be stubborn if I choose."

"Just like you chose to seek out a doctor who wouldn't question why you needed so much pain medication?"

"I don't think we need to talk about that right now," John snapped.

"I think we do. Doctor Stephenson mentioned that he wants to speak with your doctor, but that you won't give him information on the man. He did tell us the name on your prescription bottle. I don't think there's more than one D. Anspaugh in the Chicago area."

"You have no right to make assumptions about Doctor Anspaugh and what he did for me."

"I have every right to make assumptions about him, Carter." Peter noticed that his voice was rising and he took a calming breath before continuing. "Did he ever examine you? Did he ever warn you that you were taking too much medication or did he merely churn out prescription after prescription for you? You could have turned to a number of physicians who knew you and who would have watched over you, but you didn't. You could have kept me as your doctor."

John looked away, not wanting to talk about this particular subject in the cafeteria. "Are you done eating? If so, then we can go outside to talk."

"Yeah, I'm done." Peter barely eaten half of what was on his plate, but he figured that if Carter was willing to talk, then he had better take advantage of his mood. They cleared the table, then headed into the warm evening, with John heading over to the table where he had sat earlier. John sat down with his back against the edge of the table and looked out over the pond, noting how calm it seemed as the evening approached.

"Okay, we're outside. Now, please tell me why you didn't come to me for help when you thought your pain was getting worse? I've known you far longer than Anspaugh has. So have Mark and Kerry." Peter's eyes swept over John's face, looking for an answer in his eyes as he waited for a verbal answer to his question.

John shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because of just that. You all knew me and I didn't want you to be disappointed in me. I should have been able to put up with the pain. I lived with Kerry Weaver long enough to be able to tell when she woke up in agony. But, she never let it stop her. Not once in all the months I lived in her house, did she let physical pain stop her. Hell, I felt guilty enough feeling pain from my shoulder when I lived there. How could I look at her and ask her for a stronger prescription just because I couldn't do simple things any longer? Mark came back to work after he was attacked in the men's room. He didn't complain, he simply jumped in and did his job. How could I do any less?"

"No one would ever think less of you because you were in pain, Carter. You were brutally attacked. No one expected you to just jump back into work as if nothing had happened."

"I did," John's answer was so soft that Peter barely heard him.

"You pushed yourself too hard, Carter. Maybe your pain was your body's way of telling you to slow down? We'll never know because you didn't see fit to seek my help in dealing with it." Peter wasn't able to keep the anger out of his voice this time.

"You're really pissed off at me, aren't you?" John couldn't remember ever seeing Benton this upset with him. He had upset the man plenty of times over the years, just not to this extent.

"Yes, I am. I can understand you becoming dependent on your pain medication to the point of overusing it. But, I can't understand how Anspaugh could continue to give you prescriptions without addressing why you needed the medicine. You didn't answer my earlier question. Did he ever examine you?" And how he could stand there during the intervention and never say a thing about it, Peter thought. But, he didn't want to get into that right now with Carter. That was something he wanted to talk with Anspaugh about face to face.

"He didn't need to," John calmly replied.

"Like Hell he didn't. How long was he writing scrips for you? One month? Two? I want some answers, Carter. I want to know how you ended up here," Peter said. The demanding tone in his voice told Carter that he expected a real answer, and he expected it now.



Part 4
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