Lessons Learned





His eyes burned. That was the sensation that kept him from drowning in a million twisted thoughts of his own creation. He rubbed at them in his sleep, looking for some form of relief, and retained absolutely no comfort. The haze of the smoke in his dream was engulfing him as he ran down a hallway that never ended. His hand remained wrapped around a smaller, elderly one and he, and Mrs. Cobb navigated blinded through the corridor of dense smoke that was choking them both. As they dodged falling debris and wrestled with declining air, Carter glanced behind his shoulder to see the flames chasing them down unmercifully, but when he looked back to see if Mrs. Cobb was all right, he ended up staring into the frightened face of Lucy Knight. 

"Do you know the way out?" She asked. 

"Lucy?" Carter asked in a quivering voice, confused and full of sadness. 

"We have to get away, Dr. Carter." She implored. 

Feelings of paranoia swept through his mind as they valiantly maneuvered through the burning building. He kept a tight grip on Lucy's hand so he wouldn't get lost in the confusion of chaos. But, his eyes burned and the hallway began to spin, he felt Lucy's hand slip from his grasp and Carter stumbled forward as his disorientation grew from the oxygen deprivation. 

He looked back over his shoulder at the flames and saw Paul Sobrieki behind him with the butcher knife. Carter screamed as he tried to escape from the man hidden within the shadows and dust clouds. He began to suffocate on the fumes, and could not keep on his feet. He tripped over something and crashed to the floor. Too overcome to bring get to his feet, he dragged himself along the floor to the object that had caused him to fall. Beside him lay Mrs. Cobb and Lucy, helpless on the floor and both dying before his eyes." 

As he pulled his body along the floor he touched Mrs. Cobb's lifeless face. He wrung his hand through her long silver hair as he heard Paul creep up behind him. 

"There's nothing you can do to redeem yourself, Dr. Carter." A voice said. 

Carter looked up at the face peering down at him and saw that it was Dr. Logan with the butcher knife in his hand. 

Instead of plunging the blade into his back, Dr. Logan simply laughed at him. His cackling filled the hallway and overcame the thunderous noise of the roof collapsing overhead. 

"You're not going to get away with this!" Carter screamed through the black smoke. 

Carter bolted up in bed and soon regretted the action. He gritted his teeth as the pain engulfed his left side. He scrunched up his burning eyes and felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. After taking a second to compose himself, he turned his head to see Luka watching him. 

"You okay now?" The doctor asked. 

Carter laughed under his mask at the rhetorical question. He fitfully rubbed his dry eyes and shrugged his shoulders. Luka felt foolish for asking such a naïve thing, but it was the first thing that came to mind. He recognized the signs of a nightmare and wanted to console the young man if he wanted him to. Noticing his discomfort, Luka searched the contents of his lab coat and pulled out a bottle of eye drops. 

"Thought you might be needing these." He said, handing them to Carter. 

Carter took them gratefully and answered, "Thanks" as he squeezed the medicine into the source of agitation. 

"What to talk about it?" Luka asked sincerely. 

"Not really", Carter replied. He took a second to take stock in his current situation. 

He was still in the ICU, he was still struggling to breathe at a normal level and he was in the mists of carrying out the craziest thing He had ever done. 'Well not as crazy as going into a burning building,' he mused. He looked back at the Croatian doctor and realized he had never taken the time to thank the man for helping him out of the fiery hellhole and for his actions in the ER. 

He slid his mask down to the dismay of the doctor and took a second to collect his voice. "I never properly thanked you for all that you did." Carter told him quietly. 

"I did what was needed to be done." Luka replied calmly. Seeing that his answer did not sit well with the man in the bed, Luka decided to elaborate. 

He shifted slightly in his chair and looked at the wall before setting his gaze at his colleague. 

"I hate fires. Back home, I encountered many blazing businesses, and homes like it was a normal routine. Bombings, shelling, vandals. As the months passed, so did many of the oldest parts of Croatia. My favorite bridge, which had withstood the damage of World War II, does not exist anymore." 

Luka stood and leaned his weight on the railing of Carter's bed. "Sometimes one side would start a fire on their own people and then blame it on the enemy to fuel the desire for revenge and death. I tried to save a young girl trapped in a floor above me when I worked in triage and was sent into the field. I didn't save her in time." Luka's grip on the bedrail tightened as he relived the memory. 

"Later, I found out it was her neighbor who had set a kerosene bomb in the basement so that he could gain support from the local militia during one the countless peace talks. The fighting began the next day." Luka turned his impassive face to Carter, holding back the depths of sadness and fury that were barely beneath the surface. "No one was ever held accountable for all the countless lives that were lost." 

Carter withdrew the mask one more time and stared intently at Luka. "Then help me get out of this room so I can make sure that that someone else doesn't escape prosecution." Carter implored and took another shaky breath. 

Luka shook himself from his memory and absorbed Carter' request. "Out of the ICU?" Luka asked with dismay. "You've only been in here for two days." 

Carter nodded his head negatively. "I'm out of danger." 

"Your stats haven't climbed above 93." Luka challenged. 

"My vitals are stable." Carter spoke under the oxygen. 

"You're on oxygen, a foley, and we are monitoring your inputs and outputs for a Benzene level." Luka retorted. 

Carter slipped the mask down once more. "All of that can done in a normal room.," he argued. 

Luka slipped the mask back on and gave Carter a warning stare. Carter ran his hand through his hair wondering if Peter had taught the Luka the unapproving stare of gloom. Not wanting to continue the argument, Carter eyed the brown paper bag with curiosity that was lying next to Luka's feet. He then looked at the doctor expectantion. 

Luka had forgotten about his supplies and pulled out a pair of gray Sweatpants and a hospital robe. He couldn't help but chuckle at how large Carter's eyes got at the sight. "I brought these for you, but the deal is that I help you put them on and you walk over and sit in that chair for another half hour." Luka explained as he pushed the railing down. 

Carter nodded excitedly, especially at the prospect of getting out of his hospital gown. He pushed the blanket aside and slowly swung his legs around. Luka stood beside him as he carefully put his weight on both feet and gingerly stood, grabbing Luka's shoulder to steady himself. 

Luka, mindful of Carter leaning on him, took out the sweat pants and held them open for him. The younger doctor weakly lifted his left leg up and slid it into pants. He then tightened his grip on Luka's shoulder and the other man grabbed Carter's left elbow as he put all his weight on his weak left leg and inserted his right leg into the pants. 

His body trembled, but both legs were on the ground now. Before pulling the sweats up, Luka taped the foley to Carter's leg then pulled the material to the man's waist. Luka wheeled the IV stand after securing the oxygen tank to the bottom the pole as the other man moved slowly towards the chair. He kept his hand on Luka's shoulder and the foreign doctor kept his right hand under Carter's left elbow. Luka noticed how changing into his new attire had tired his friend, but he seemed determined to reach the chair. Gently Luka lowered him into his seat, and Carter breathed heavily into the mask. 

"Hmmm, maybe another day before switching rooms, no?" Luka questioned the wheezing patient. 

"No!" Carter adamantly replied. 

Luka rubbed his chin absently and slowly understood Carter's mood. "You spoke to him, didn't you?" He asked. When Carter looked way, Luka knew his answer. "He wants you to transfer to a more secluded location." 

"Its hard to be...secluded in...a hospital." Carter retorted. 

Luka shook his head. "I don't like it, and Dr. Benton will never agree with it", he stated. 

When he saw the doctor stare at him with a mischievous expression, Luka rolled his eyes and grunted. "No. You can't be serious?" 

He watched Carter's eyes gleam and he moaned some more. "You want me to convince him?" Luka unhappily asked 

Carter innocently gazed at Luka and nodded. 

"Since when did your name change from Dr. Carter to Detective Carter?" Luka asked humorlessly as the subject of their conversation walked into the room. 

"Afternoon, Peter." Luka said as the surgeon grabbed Carter's chart and flipped through it. The Croatian exchanged looks with his patient, 'no Peter's patient' he reminded himself. 

"Um, Dr. Benton, Dr. Carter would like to be transferred to a regular room." Luka ventured to say. 

Peter stole a look with Luka and gave him an expression of bewilderment then one he gave students when they asked if they could perform a procedure. 

"Dr. Carter," Peter glanced over at the man in question, "May what a lot of things, but I'm not here to do only what he likes." He responded stonily. 

Carter began to remove his mask, but Peter quickly fastened it back on. "Carter, leave that mask on or I'll put a non-breather on you so fast..." 

"Dr. Benton, Carter's vitals are stable, the Benzene is almost out of his system. He doesn't require anything from the ICU room that can't be provided in a standard one." Luka explained. 

Peter avoided the resident's eye and stared a hole in the man in the chair who nodded in agreement to every one of Luka's points. "Well, that's all good, Dr. Kovac, but I'm in charge of Carter's care and I don't want to transfer him for another day or so. 

"Now if you two are done questioning my orders, I'd lie to examine my patient." Peter grumbled. 

Tired of being ignored, Cater voiced his opinion through his breathing device. "I don't want to stay in here, Dr. Benton. Give the bed to someone who needs it." 

Peter crossed his arms in his usual defiant manner. "Since when were you put in charge of your own care and in the position to question my orders?" Peter asked his voice cold. 

"Maybe Carter's right..." Luka began to say. 

Peter whirled around. "Dr. Kovac, outside now!" Peter pointed to the door and watched Luka's face transform from annoyance to anger. He glared at the surgeon and stomped out with Benton hot at his heels. 

Carter for his part, felt horrible for putting Luka in such a tough spot. He also regretted causing a bit of friction between himself and Peter. He was partially doing this to let his mentor off the hook, and ease the surgeon's guilt about what happened in the ER by putting the person responsible for their nightmare behind bars. The ringing of his cell phone interrupted Carter's ruminations. 

It was laying on the right side of the bed and Carter panicked at the thought that Benton might pick up the phone if he heard it. As quickly as his body would allow, Carter stood up on his own. The phone was still ringing as he scrabbled towards the bed, dragging his stubborn left leg. 

His body felt weak and Carter wavered to the right as he struggled to remain upright. It was difficult to move at all, but he dragged the IV pole behind him, then simply stretched all the lines as he reached for the gurney. His left leg gave out under his weight when he collapsed onto the bed. He reached out for the railing on the opposite side ignoring screaming muscles. Carter used the metal bar to pull himself over the mattress as the insistent ringing egged him on. He Pulled his mask off then grabbed the cell phone and flipped it open with his right hand. 

"Hello." He wheezed. 

"I didn't catch you at a bad time did I, Dr. Carter?" Logan's voice asked. 

Carter closed his eyes as he rode the protests of his strained back. "Not at all." 

"Good. Did you get yourself transferred?" 

"I'm about to." Carter wheezed as he realized both his hands were occupied and he couldn't pull his oxygen back on. 

"Can't do anything right, Dr. Carter? Well, what you have to say couldn't possibly be that damaging." Logan's voice taunted. 

"Too scared to find out?" Carter rasped. 

There was a pause. 

Fine, if you're not there tomorrow then I'll take my chances," Logan Replied, then hung up. 

Carter clicked the phone off and tried to pull himself up, but was too exhausted to do so. He felt his strength ebb away and was afraid he would fall into a heap on the floor. He simply could not get his muscles to work properly and he sagged against the gurney. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

As soon as Luka exited room 111, the doctor next to him grabbed his arm to get his attention. Startled by the rough action, Luka pulled back and fixed Peter Benton with the same fiery stare as he was receiving at the moment from the man. 

"What the hell were you trying to do back there, Dr, Kovac!" Peter demanded of the doctor. 

Peter was more than furious, he was outright steaming mad. It was hard enough to be Carter's primary physician and having to force him to follow his strict orders. He didn't need now to have Luka Kovac to undermining his instructions. Carter was stubborn and it was hard enough to get him to cooperate as it was. Peter wanted the younger man to stay put, under many watchfully eyes, for his own safety. Peter continued to face the other doctor down; disgruntled that he had not received a prompt answer. 

Luka rubbed his hand over his jaw. "I don't know what your problem is, Dr. Benton. 

He's stable enough to be transferred to a standard room. His blood pressure and heart rate are good and the Benzene is dropping to minimal levels." 

Peter shook his head as the other physician spoke to him, not wanting to trust such an optimistic picture. 

"Yeah and his pulse ox is till unacceptable and his respirations are far below normal levels." 

"All of which can be treated with oxygen and further Abertrol treatments. It does not dictate a stay in the ICU," Luka interrupted. 

"What about the fact that he can be monitored closely by a few select people? 

In his weakened condition he's going to have to stay here for at least a week until his lungs heal and he's able to have a normal range of mobility," Peter retorted. 

Luka understood where Peter was coming from. The staff was wary from what had transpired in the ICU, and despite a heightened state of awareness no one could keep an eye on Carter all the time. 

Luka had also played a part in Carter's plan to outwit Logan. He knew despite all the steps that could be taken by the police and the staff at County that there were still two problems. 

Logan was allowed to walk away escaping prosecution and he posed a decent threat to Carter unless the young man could do something about it. Luka was apprehensive about Carter's new found idea he was some sort of detective now, but if the police were unable to gather evidence Carter thought it was up to him to get solid proof the man's guilt. 

Luka choose his next words carefully. "I really think that Carter can receive a proper level of care in a normal room. There is no medical reason for him to remain in the ICU. 

The guards will have to leave today now that the investigation into his doctored chart is on hold till those handwriting experts take a look at things." 

Peter was still very unhappy, even if Luka's words did ring true. Carter could be transferred it was just too soon after he had been in such critical condition a few days before. The dreadful memory in the ER was still ingrained in his head, a vivid image that kept him from getting any decent sleep the last two days. As a doctor, he knew that it was a daily occurrence for patients that were so extremely critical one day to be transferred to a normal room mere days later. It was just that this particular patient was not just a name on a chart. Peter was paranoid over the way trouble seemed to be hunting Carter down as of late and he felt that his former student needed some extra looking after. 

He made certain promises and assurances and they were now completely out of reach. His word was going to fall short and Peter felt very uneasy at lacking any kind of control over the situation. Peter bit down on his lip and dug his hands into the pockets of his scrubs. 

"I think that I know what is best for my patient," Peter said gruffly. 

"And I think Carter would appreciate it, if for once, we trusted him." Gaining an unyielding look, Luka continued, "John Carter is a grown man capable of making decisions for himself. If we hover around him, he is just going to push harder to appear normal, no?" 

"Dr. Kovac, I am not hovering." Peter's emphasis on his words told Luka how offended the man was over the accusation. 

"What do you call it, then?" Luka stabbed back. Sighing. a bit Luka relented. 

Inside he was chastising himself. For what he could tell, Peter Benton was acting like someone who was concerned for another, admitting in his own little way a friendship for a colleague and Luka didn't want to ruin such progress. 

"Fine." Peter scrunched up his face and look away. "We'll transfer him after one more examination. Once I'm satisfied that he's stable enough then we'll move him." 

Peter headed for the door and halted for a moment. "By the way, Dr. Kovac, I've known Carter a little longer then you have. I don't need a lecture concerning what's best for him." 

Peter brushed past the other doctor and re-entered Carter's room. When he walked in, he saw the empty chair and a very winded man, half sprawled on a bed, vainly trying to not fall off. 

"Carter what the Hell are you doing?" 

Peter exclaimed, as he carefully put his hand on Carter's back to keep him from slipping from the gurney while at the same time grabbing a hold of his sweatpants to pull his uncooperative legs onto bed. 

Carter settled onto his back, still wheezing slightly from the effort, and trying to ignore Benton's thunderous gaze. 

When Carter heard the door open, he quickly stuffed the phone under the blankets, hoping he had not been completely caught. He turned his head, already thinking about what to say to avoid another lecture. 

When Peter recognized the signs of another explanation, he cut the man short. "I don't want to hear any excuses right now, Carter. I don't think you could come up with a satisfying reason as to why you decided to return to bed unaided." 

Peter did not know what made him more angry, the fact that Carter was disregarding his orders or the fact the man was ignoring his tirade. "Fine, Carter, you want to move to a normal room, try acting like a normal patient. 

You're a fine doctor in the ER, but you are under my care now. If you don't want your every step monitored then stop garnering such attention." Peter finished his speech and checked all the machines in the room. After getting satisfactory readings, he walked away, spouting off orders as he retreated. "You can examine him, Dr. Kovac. If you deem him fit for a transfer, then go ahead and arrange it." 

Carter watched in disappointment as Peter left the room, leaving him alone with Luka. He swallowed painfully and gazed at the ceiling already knowing how many tiles were there. He had somehow disappointed his mentor and now was going ahead with a plan that was bound to infuriate Benton. 

At the same time, Carter could not help thinking this was the only way to put This tragedy behind him, and release Peter from a promise he could not fulfill. 

"Carter, you doing all right?" Luka asked, squeezing the younger man's shoulder. 

All he got was unconvincing nod. "You couldn't just wait for us to come back?" Luka asked with a hint of unbridled humor. 

Carter answered his question by pulling out the phone and looking him in the eyes while adjusting his mask. 

"I see. Got a phone call, did you?" Again, Carter remained withdrawn and simply repeated his last gesture. 

"So, I guess everything is set up then?" Luka asked tentatively. 

"Yeah," Carter rasped under the mask. 

"You can still change your mind. I could go get Dr. Benton." Luka tried to reason with him." 

"No!" Carter forcibly refused. 

Knowing he wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise, Luka wordlessly completed Carter's examination. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Next Day 8:00 am 

The transfer had gone smoothly, and now Carter lay in bed, staring up at similar, but still boring, ceiling tiles. This time the oxygen was being administered from behind him and he was still hooked up to an IV and catheter, but he at least had lost the central line. His pulse ox had not improved enough to go on a regular nasal canal, and the annoying mask was still necessary to provide oxygen to his weakened lungs. 

Carter ran his hand along his face, noticing with annoyance the stubble that had began to grow. He wished that could shave himself. But after noting how shaky his hands were, he guessed that he had better wait, or let someone else handle the task. 

The guilt of keeping Peter in the dark about his scheming was still grating at his thoughts, but he was tired of being manipulated by things that were out of his control, and for once he was going to have a hand in how things played out. 

His chest still ached from labored breathing and he once again traced his fingers where two paddles had sent jolt of electrical shock through just three days earlier. His heart had stopped beating, his life had ceased to be, and all of it was returned to him by electric current and drug stimulants. 

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the dreadful images that must have been ingrained in the minds of his friends and the old familiar feeling of guilt gnawed away at him. 

"No, not again." He muffled through the mask. 

"No, not what again, Dr. Carter?" Romano asked, strolling in with an Abertrol treatment in his hands. 

"Dr. Romano, what are you doing here?' Carter asked, startled through his mask. 

"Dr. Carter, you shouldn't be speaking. I saw you were on this floor and thought I'd personally bring you your breathing treatment. You know, let the therapist take a break," Romano said in his usual falsely cheerful voice. 

Carter sat up straight as Romano brought him the device to breathe. He slipped his mask off and sucked on the tube to breath in the fumes that Were designed to heal his lungs even though they made him cough uncontrollably, and in turn, cause him a great deal of pain. 

While Carter took on the tedious job, Romano took it upon himself to speak to the doctor while he was unable to respond. "Now, Dr. Carter, I just wanted to let you know we are doing everything within our power to make sure that the investigation doesn't go the way of the Dodo." 

Carter weakly nodded as he struggled on the spirameter thatnow was causing his lungs to seize up on him. 

"I wanted to let you personally know that I'll be contacting some important people in the D.A's office about how inadequate those detectives have been." Romano paused to make sure the other doctor was listening to him. "I also want you to know that I sent you to Grady to keep an eye on you." 

Romano's voice quivered only so slightly. He looked away as he spoke his thoughts. "I'm sorry that I simply did not instruct Kerry to monitor your progress or speak to your doctor about your recovery. That was my lapse. In my need to address some issues from last February, I took it upon myself to personally take part in your struggles, at work and for that I'm sorry." 

Romano gazed at Carter intently, his face a chiseled look of seriousness. "And if for some reason that Dr. Logan slips through the cracks of justice, then you can hold be responsible for any of the trauma that you have endured this week." 

Silence permutated the room and Carter was too shocked to respond even if he had not been receiving the breathing therapy. He had stopped sucking in the medicine halfway through Romano's speech, too stunned to speak. He opened his mouth to say something, anything but was wracked with coughs from the therapy treatment. He clutched at his chest in the same way he did after every treatment, riding out the streaks of pain that lanced through his body. 

"And another thing, I heard it was your bright idea to be moved to a standard room, Dr. Carter. Do me a favor and don't suggest something so stupid again, okay? It's bad enough that Peter is chomping at the bit concerning that bastard, and I don't need him even more grouchy than usual because he's more concerned about your transfer down here than your stay in the ICU." 

A repository therapist entered the room, and Romano turned to her, a perfect reflection of his authoritative self. 

"Dr. Carter still needs about fifteen more minutes on his treatment. Now, I have some administrative duties to attend to." With that Romano left as quickly as he entered. 

Carter was still too surprised to react to the Chief's lecture, let alone his words of apology. He was even more upset that he was causing Dr. Benton more undue tension concerning his room change. 

Carter did not have time to ponder the course of events. After his breathing treatment and a half hour bout of coughing, he was once again exhausted, and he fell into a fitful sleep. 

Carter never noticed Peter walking in to check his vitals first hand, and to flip through his chart. The surgeon then stood there in the room for a moment, watching Carter's chest rise and fall ever so slowly. 

Carter didn't need to see how tired Peter felt, or even know that he was unable to even take a nap because he was always jerked awake by the sound of a cardiac monitor's steady drone of an absent heartbeat. Satisfied that all appeared normal, Peter silently left, with Carter none the wiser, just like Peter wanted. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

The sensation of being watched was something that was hard to describe. It was a tingling sensation that tickled the mind and a paranoid sensation all at the same time. Carter woke up suddenly and bolted straight up in the bed. That was a bad idea as his back protested the movement and strained muscles caused him to gasp. He closed his dry eyes and rubbed his eyelids using his sleeve. He searched the room for the source of awareness and was greeted by an empty room. 

He tried to fight an overwhelming desire to be anywhere but flat on his back. Carter internally grimaced at the thought of more sermons, but he felt extremely uncomfortable and vulnerable. Slowly, he slid his legs off the bed, and he sat there a few seconds, letting his feet hit the ground. He took the robe off the corner of his little table and put it on, then took the cell phone from under his pillow and slipped it into one of the pockets, resting it beside the tape recorder he had left there. Carter willed his body to move and he carefully stood up. He kept his hand on the railing just in case he felt dizzy, but he experienced only some slight light-headedness and it quickly dissipated. 

Carter then methodically took a step and followed it with another and shuffled his way to the chair next to the bed. He was in the process of settling himself into the seat when a familiar voice rang though the air. 

"You're looking well, Dr. Carter. Now don't feel you have to stand on my account." Logan's icy voice echoed from the bathroom. 

Startled, Carter griped his IV pole and steadied himself as he was determined to remain standing. His body slightly trembled, but he fought the weakness and stared at Logan undaunted. 

"I'm here, John, now would you mind telling me what it is that you think can possible motivate me to give you money?" Logan asked calmly, a smirk upon his face. 

Carter dug his hand into the pocket of his robe and clicked on the tape recorder. He brought his hand nonchalantly out of his robe and grabbed hold of the pole again when he wavered. Slowly he slid his mask off. 

"I know you set Grady on fire and I can prove it." Carter shuddered, and took a shallow breath freely. "And you're going to pay for my silence." 



Part 12 
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