One Day At A Time




********************

He was halfway to the bathroom when he felt sure he wasn't going to make it. He slammed open the bathroom door, and hurried into the stall, his hand clenched over his mouth. He hadn't even eaten anything, yet he retched for the next 20 minutes. When he looked in the mirror, he was shocked at his pale reflection.

His heart was still pounding in his chest, and his hands were steadily shaking. He knew darned good and well what it was, and if they thought they were going to be allowed to make him miserable, to "punish" him further for his poor judgement, they had another thing coming. He wasn't using anything, save for the Percodan that morning. That wasn't technically "using." His head was pounding, he was dizzy again. He sat down hard on the floor, and looked up in surprise when the bathroom door opened.

*********************

"Mark, you have to do something, you cannot just let this go."

"Kerry, just let me have some time to talk with him, maybe I can find out what's going on. Honestly, Kerry, Carter hasn't looked well in the past three weeks. Maybe he's just coming down with something."

"Mark, I've tried..."

"I know, I know." Mark interrupted, "but, I think..."

"You think he'll talk with you easier? Please, we've all tried...Carter...he's stubborn Mark."

"I'm aware of that Kerry, but it certainly doesn't help when he feels like he's living under a microscope."

"Oh, and you think I've caused that? Is that what you think?"

"Honestly, yes." Mark looked up from the chart he was working on, "Kerry, I'm not sure he trusts any of us, and quite honestly, least of all...you."

Kerry sat down, put her crutch aside, attempted to stay calm. "And what am I supposed to do? I'm responsible for this ER Mark, not you, not Carter, me."

"Just calm down, I'll take care of this."

"I've heard that before."

"Kerry, for once, let someone else take some responsibility all right?"

"Fine, but you will keep me informed." Kerry grasped her crutch and unceremoniously stalked out of the lounge.

Mark picked up the phone as soon as Kerry was gone. It rang a number of times before the answering machine picked up.

After the message and a number of beeps, he left his message, "Carter, this is Mark Green, I really need to talk with you.

Call me when you get in. If it's late, call me at home, you have the number." He thought for a moment before ending with, "you aren't in trouble, just call me okay?" He hung up, and hoped he'd return the call.

***************

"Carter?" Abby was standing in the doorway, "What's wrong?"

"Abby, this is the men's room, didn't you see the sign?" He irritably replied.

"Your grandmother was concerned, I told her I'd check on you okay? You look awful."

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment." She moved toward him, put her hand to his head, "diaphoretic." She moved her hand to his wrist, waited a minute, "pulse 130." She picked up his hand, "you're hands are shaking...Carter..." She didn't want to be in this position, but here she was, she had to ask, "What are you on?"

She moved back a step. The look on his face, a combination of hurt, and guilt.

He stood up with some difficulty, holding onto the sink as he did, "You...Abby, you of all people, I thought I knew you better than that!"

"Lower your voice Carter..." Abby raised a placating hand, which was knocked away.

"No, I won't lower my voice! You of all people..." He pushed past her, out the bathroom door, out into the room filled with addicts, he couldn't be here, not now...he never even glanced back as he made his way out into the night, leaving Abby staring after him.

******************

Millicent hurried back toward the bathroom, "What did you say to him?" She asked in a harsh whisper.

"I just...." Abby stammered.

"What did you say to my grandson?"

"I asked him what he was on." Abby met Millicent Carter's blazing eyes, and immediately looked away.

"You what? He has had a migraine for the past few days, he came here because it is his responsibility, his obligation. Whatever would make you think he was in any way shirking that responsibility to himself? What were you thinking?" She lowered her voice, "and he thinks *you* are his friend." Millicent didn't wait for a reply as she walked out the door, in search of her grandson.

*******************

"John, John wait!" Millicent Carter breathlessly caught up with her grandson, who had a several block lead on her.

"Gamma, I can't go back in there."

"Why? Because of what your *friend* Abby said? Is that it?"

"Yes and no. I took a Percodan to get rid of this headache, actually I took two, which didn't even work, didn't even touch it."

"So, you think the world has ended because you tried to do something to alleviate the real pain of a migraine?"

He looked up at her stern face, mouth set, eyes blazing, "John, these people have you brain washed! Can't you see that?"

"Gamma, right now I need...."

"Right now, you need to go home, go to bed, get rid of this headache so you can think straight. That is what you need."

She took his hand in hers, she noted how his hand still trembled. She wasn't sure if it was the cold, the emotional upset, or...no, she knew in her heart it wasn't that.

"Come on John, let's go home."

They walked in silence back toward the car, his stomach was doing flip flops all the way. He knew his grandmother wasn't angry with him, she was angry though.

"Stop a second." John stopped, his heart pounding in perfect rhythm with his head, trying to catch his breath.

"You need to see a doctor." His grandmother admonished.

"Gamma, I am a doctor."

"Touche, still, you cannot treat yourself, you've had just about enough of that to last us all a lifetime, don't you think?" She smiled at him.

"Good point." He replied slightly out of breath.

"You've probably contracted something from that hospital."

John noticed that she no longer called it *the* hospital, it was always, *that* hospital, and they were no longer co-workers, it was *those* people. Always polite, but to the point. She let her thoughts be known, it was a Carter trait, apparently, his parents were also good at that.

"You may be right, let's see how I feel tommorrow afternoon, if I still feel bad, I'll go to a doctor, okay?"

"Fair enough. Shall I go get the car?"

"No, I can make it, I just want to go to bed, I'm so tired."

"I'll have you home in no time." She rubbed his hand, and mussed his hair, "you know I love you."

"I know Gamma, I love you too."

"Good, then at least we agree on *something*." She grinned at him as they made their way toward the car.

*******************

"John, we're home." Millicent called to him, with no response, "John?"

He was sleeping soundly, hands crossed over his chest. She couldn't leave him in the car, but she certainly couldn't drag him inside either. She shook him a bit, "John, we're home."

"What? Oh, sorry..." He groggily responded.

"Do you want me to come inside?"

"No, I'll be okay Gamma." He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'll call on you tommorrow, and you'll call me if you need anything, understand young man?"

"Understand."

"Good, now that's two things we've agreed upon tonight."

"I do believe that's a record Gamma."

He hauled himself out of the car, and opened the front door, waving as he went inside.

He saw the light blinking on his answering machine, but ignored it as he undressed.

He didn't even have the energy to find a clean pair of sweats, and hit the bed in nothing but his boxers and his socks. He pulled the comforter over his head, reaching out mometarily to unplug the phone and the answering maching, so it would stop blinking at him. If it was an emergency, he would have been paged.

He was fast asleep within minutes...



Part 4
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