Carter yawned and stared ahead to the board. For a second only, barely glancing at it, before turning around to survey the collection of people around him. There were only a few staff members left on shift tonight. Nurses were plentiful, but the only physicians in sight, and to his recognition, were Deb and Kovac.
He smiled in amusement at the sight of Deb as she was fighting to stay awake over a toddler with a bruised ankle. She nodded toward his mother and walked away, starting a conversation with Haleh.
He yawned again, figuring it not to be the last this evening, and looked to Kovac approaching him.
"We'll be here all night," he mumbled, gesturing toward the wave of patients around them.
Carter laughed. "The board's almost clear," he pointed out.
Luka nodded heavily and turned toward the computer, beginning with an article. "As long as there's no trauma in the next twenty minutes."
Carter chuckled again into his sleeve, stifling a cough. He held a hand to his forehead sleepily and looked onto a chart in his hands. Kid with the flu. Sign here and there, and that's that.
'That's that?' Not so much, he thought as he noticed Haleh scratch another name onto the board.
"More?" he growled sarcastically. "Can't we just tell 'em we're closed?"
Haleh shook her head. "Not so much. Who wants it?"
Luka stood by Carter's side and squinted with him to read the name and problem. "Brown. Projectile vomiting."
"Yours," Carter proclaimed, stepping away from the desk and strutting toward the lounge. He looked back at Kovac. He was standing behind the desk with his arms in the air, smiling accusingly at Carter.
"I'll get you later, Carter," he laughed.
He waved a hand over his head as he continued into the lounge. "Yeah, yeah." His near-sleepwalk brought him in the midst of the lounge, just noticing his own bumping abruptly into the table. He winced and bent down to rub his leg in small pain. "Damn it."
He shook it off and continued over to the couch. It looked as tempting as ever right now. He felt like collapsing into its arms and remaining there for a while. Even on the battered, old leather, tonight there was definitely something inviting about it.
It was a *couch.* A cheap piece of furniture taunting him. He looked back to the door, peering slightly to spot anyone who might be watching him, someone who might rat him out or attempt to bring him back to the world that was ER.
He shook his head, teasing himself by walking by the sofa to the refrigerator, looking inside for a soda. He closed the door, knowing very well that a different beverage could be arranged. A more sufficient beverage.
Coffee, he thought to himself as he reached to the pot. The brown liquid gently rang from the pot to the mug he held. Instantly, he felt how inert the substance inside was. He swished it around, glancing downward to see the coffee again. He didn't feel like chilled coffee, but he didn't care.
He didn't hesitate to add anything to the drink, but swallowed it wholly as it was. The cool could hit his throat and travel down its only cold path, gliding sympathetically. Carter grunted in disgust to himself, previously underestimating the taste and feel of what he had just committed himself to.
He placed the mug back on the surface, the beige counter in front of him. He turned back around and saw the television sitting across from the sofa. It was still calling him.
Perfect. Television and junky couch. What more could a guy ask for?
Nothing, he thought pathetically as he plopped down onto the couch. He sighed a heavy breath of relief and comfort, apart from his long ER duties, and switched on the T.V. He chuckled under his breath as the image of a Bulls game flickered into sight.
Maybe Luka was trying to catch up, he thought with a mere smile in his cheeks. Another yawn overtook him and brought a glance to the watch on his wrist, ticking silently as he grappled with this tug-of-war feeling he had with himself and a drowsiness.
The Bulls game held no appeal now. It hadn't since Jordan left way back when. He lifted his hand to reach for the dials on the television's panel. Where in the hell was the remote? His hand hit the button a few times before he found a old movie channel and gave up on the search.
When the screen no longer held fascination for him, he turned away in mock disgust and lead his eyes to the arm of the couch. He knew sooner or later, he would have to rest his head on it. He probably wouldn't get to go home anyway.
He nodded in covenant with himself and stretched his limbs across the space. He hummed a sweeter tone to the leather around him, savoring the feel and wrapping himself tightly into it. Shuddering under the freshly solaced skin, he let his eyes fall deeper into a steady sleep.
--
His shoulder was violently shoved aside. His eyes opened, the world slowly coming into form in front of his eyes: the television, the table, the wall. The colors blurred together and brought him back to the lounge. He looked up and saw Deb above him.
"Rise and shine, honey," she mocked.
"What?" Carter asked in response, obliviously in the middle of the room. He reached a hand up to his hair, finding it quite out of shape. He smoothed a hand over it roughly and looked to her.
"We've been down one chief resident for a while," she said, glaring at him with a smile. "And here you are, sleeping in the lounge."
"Oh," he laughed. "Sorry. How long was I out?"
She smirked, glancing at the watch on her wrist by pulling her sleeve up a bit. "Ten minutes."
He groaned and fell back to the couch. "Deb," he whined. "Come on, let me sleep."
"Get up," she chuckled, dragging his arm off of the couch. "Let's go."
He nodded, giving in reluctantly. He felt around the cushions for the stethoscope, and placed it around his neck carefully. It rested on his shoulders as he yawned again. "Are we still swamped?"
"What could have changed in ten minutes?" she laughed.
He shrugged almost motionlessly.
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Yeah," he laughed. "Just tired."
She nodded. "You're lucky Weaver's not here. I let you sleep for ten minutes."
"And I thank you for those precious ten minutes," he said sarcasticaly.
"You're welcome."
"Get out," he said, causing them both to laugh. She started out of the room and stopped in the doorway.
"Happy Valentine's, by the way."
"Oh, that's right." He stood up. "Happy Valentine's, Deb," he added with a childish grin. She smiled back and walked out of the room.
He wondered when Abby would come in.
He shook his head and stepped into the ER's wholesome chaos once again. A gurney, occupied by what looked like a drunk biker, sped in front of him. He jumped back and jokingly saluted Luka, who happened to be taking him elsewhere. Luka nodded back sarcastically.
"Carter!"
He turned another way, finding the source of the voice.
"Doris?"
"Isn't this your girlfriend?"
"Ha, I'm single --" He stopped in his tracks when he saw her on the gurney. Abby.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked, coming closer. He went into a frenzy - checking her for a pulse, putting his wrist to her forehead, searching for a clue of some sort.
"Neighbor found her on the floor," she said. "Looks like she took a fall. Hit her head."
"Intoxicated?" he asked, nervously. He could already tell that it wasn't a possibility.
"Not likely," she smiled. "Just unconscious for now. We got a place to put her?"
Chuny passed them. "Abby?"
"Yeah, she's out of it. What's open?"
"Trauma - take your pick."
He nodded and assisted Doris to the trauma room. He looked onto Abby, lying helplessly on the surface she'd been set on. He brushed a hand over her head, and let it rest on her hair for a second.
--
He had been standing for a while next to her bed. So far, Deb hadn't walked in so he assumed the entire staff was letting easy on him. It was odd. He knew that she would probably be fine - all she had really done was been knocked unconscious. He looked on though and realized that he wanted to be there when she woke up.
As if she had read his mind, she began to stir slightly. He beamed and forgot about the hand on her skin.
"Abby?"
She opened her eyes. "Hi," she said. She looked up and around the room. "Where am I?"
"Trauma two," he laughed. "There were no other rooms available. What happened?"
"I don't know." She tried to sit up on her elbows, but winced with dizziness. "Um," she said with her eyes shut, "who are you?"
