A different day in May - part 7
(An alternative universe fic featuring Dave
and Carter)
Previously on ER
Carter gave Dave a lift back to his apartment. While retrieving
Dave's bike from the jeep, Carter ended up in a puddle of water
and covered with oil. Dave (who had been wondering how to get
Carter into his apartment) offered him the use of his shower to
clean up. Dave's intention being Carter there for a day to dry
him out, and if that didn't work, he was going to contact Kerry
for help.
Carter finished his shower and wearing Dave's bathrobe, wandered
back into the living area only to find Dave searching his jacket.
Dave explained that he was trying to find Carter's stash of booze
and revealed that he suspected Carter to be an alcoholic. Carter
denied this, claiming that the 'confrontation' Kerry had referred
to had been about his reluctance to seek treatment for PTSD.
Still unconvinced, Dave had persuaded Carter to stay with him and
go without drink for twenty-four hours. Although realizing that
this would mean he'd be unable to take any morphine for his pain,
Carter agreed.
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Dave shoveled more pasta on to Carter's plate, ignoring his token
protests. He knew that Carter would need all his strength to get
through the drying out period. Okay, so Carter was still claiming
that he wasn't going to be suffering from any withdrawal symptoms
cause he wasn't addicted to alcohol, but Dave wasn't taking any
chances. This wasn't going to be an easy twenty-four hours...but
Carter was his friend...and he was going to do whatever it took
to get him through this.
Carter did his best to eat his dinner, knowing that Dave would
see a lack of appetite on his part as yet another sign of his
alleged alcoholism. Hell, at this stage Dave would probably see
anything as a sign of alcoholism, thought Carter with a wry smile.
Dave looked at Carter suspiciously as he chucked more Parmesan on
his meal. He wondered what Carter was thinking. After all, he had
capitulated surprisingly easily to being locked up with Dave for
a day...maybe he had a plan to break out...maybe he was just
waiting his chance to overpower Dave and ransack his apartment
for something to drink.
Dave put that idea from his mind. There wasn't any booze left in
the place...well, okay, there was that half-bottle of whisky left
over from a girlfriend with a fondness for Irish Coffee. Dave had
toyed with the idea of pouring it down the sink along with his
six-pack...but it had been expensive stuff and he hated the idea
of wasting it. Finally he had decided that wrapping it in a towel
and sticking it in his closet would ensure that Carter wouldn't
find it...hell, even he had trouble finding stuff in there...he
supposed he really should tidy it up one of these days. But
anyway, Carter wasn't the violent type...no way would he get
physical...and even if he *did* get violent...he could take him...easily.
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A few hours later both men were sitting in front of the TV. Dave
had the remote and was flicking idly through the channels trying
to find the program with the most amount of skin and with the
least amount of plot.
Carter, by now wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants borrowed from
Dave, shifted uncomfortably on the couch. In spite of the growing
pain in his back, he was actually having a good time. Dave was a
fun guy to spend an evening with...even if his video selection
left a lot to be desired. Carter had tactfully declined an offer
to view some of Dave's more 'adult videos' and had settled for
watching TV with him...he hadn't dared to ask about the stash of
obviously home-taped videos that had been at the bottom of the
box...some things it was better not to know too much about.
Carter briefly considered faking a few of the symptoms of alcohol
withdrawal just to see Dave's reaction. He could easily pretend
to be shaking and agitated...hell, he could even claim to see a
few pink elephants...that would really freak Dave out. He grinned
at the mental image of Dave trying to convince him that there
weren't any brightly colored animals in the corner of the room...man
that would be fun...or would it...
Carter sighed as he realized that he couldn't do something like
that to Dave. After all, the guy was going out of his way to try
and help a friend...granted that the friend wasn't in any need of
help, but Dave's intentions were good. It wouldn't be fair to
mess with his head like that. He shifted his weight around,
trying to find a more comfortable position, but without much
success. Damn, he thought, as he realized that what he needed was
some painkillers. Just a couple of Vicodin...that would take the
edge off his pain. Carter glanced at his jacket, which was on the
couch between him and Dave. Just a few inches away from him,
carefully tucked away in a pocket was a bottle of tablets...just
a few inches, but it might as well have been a few miles for all
the good it was doing him. Now if only Dave would leave the room
for a minute, he'd be able to take one. Of course, there was also
some morphine and a syringe, but he didn't think he needed any of
that...not yet anyway...but if he could be sure that Dave would
be out of the room for long enough, he might just take a shot to
keep him going...sort of a 'pre-emptive strike' against the pain...just
enough to help him sleep...that was all...after all, he couldn't
sleep while he was in pain...and he needed his sleep if he was
going to be able to work...
Carter's thoughts came to a sudden halt...he didn't need to be
able to work...he didn't have a job anymore...it didn't matter
how much or how little sleep he got...he could sleep in, all day
and every day, and it wouldn't matter...not now...not anymore...shit.
Dave glanced over at Carter, wondering if he was okay. He didn't
seem to be showing any of the usual symptoms of sudden alcohol
withdrawal...not yet anyway...but then, it had only been a couple
of hours since his last drink. Okay, the shower might have helped
speed up the process...but not by much. Dave couldn't remember
whether a cold shower or hot shower was more effective in
sobering someone up...he knew that he usually had a cold shower
when he needed to sober up quickly...but he didn't think Carter
would appreciate Dave suggesting it to him...not yet anyway...but
maybe in a few hours when the nausea and headaches started up...well
then he might try anything to speed up the process.
"You okay man?" he asked Carter quietly. "You look
a bit shook."
Carter jumped at the sound of Dave's voice. "What? Oh...no...I'm
okay, really..."
"Not feeling dizzy or sick or anything?"
Carter shook his head. "Nope, I'm a bit stiff...but that's
just because your couch isn't that comfortable...but I'm not
feeling dizzy, nauseous or anything like that."
"Oh," said Dave, a tinge of disappointment evident in
his voice. Not that he *wanted* Carter to be sick or anything...but
the longer it went without Carter showing any symptoms, then the
more likely it was that he had made another stupid mistake. Dave
wondered if he should just apologize to Carter and let him go
home...after all, if he wasn't an alcoholic, then there was no
point in keeping him here.
"Do you want anything?" Dave asked finally. "Some
tea or coffee? I've probably got some biscuits that aren't out of
date."
"I'm fine," said Carter. "But actually, I'd really
like a cigarette. Would you mind?" He started reaching for
the jacket.
Dave scowled and grabbed it away from him. "Not in this
apartment...no way man." He held the jacket out of Carter's
reach.
"Oh come on," said Carter impatiently. "Just let
me have one...unless you're planning to wean me off them as well
as alcohol," he said sarcastically.
"A-ha," said Dave, triumphantly. "I knew you had a
problem...see, you can't fool me...and yeah, maybe I will try to
get you off the cigs as well, they'll kill you quicker than booze."
Carter rolled his eyes. "Okay Dave, I admit that I probably
do smoke more than I should...and yeah, I should give them up.
But there's no way in hell you'll get me to admit I have a
drinking problem, because I don't. And by the time I've been here
for twenty-four hours, I'll have proved it to you."
Dave eyed his friend suspiciously. There was a ring of sincerity
in his voice...but then Dave had heard all the denials before...and
he knew better than to believe him. Besides, it was easy to be
sincere in denying an addiction if you didn't believe you *were*
addicted.
Carter's voice broke through his thoughts. "Look, I'm sorry
I snapped at you Dave. But I'd really like a cigarette. I'll
stick my head out a window if you don't want the smoke in your
apartment...I'd offer to go outside, but I don't expect you'd let
me...come on Dave, just one cigarette...please?" Carter
turned on his best 'lost puppy' expression.
Dave groaned, "Okay, okay...just one...and no knocking your
ash all over the place, okay?"
"Okay," said Carter, as he reached for the jacket.
Dave held it out of his reach. "I'll get it...not that I
don't trust you," he said with a grin as he plunged his hand
into one of the more bulging pockets. "But..." The
words died on his lips and the grin faded as he felt a familiar
shape in the pocket.
Pulling out his hand, he stared at the bottle of morphine and the
syringe.
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To be continued