It fills out his head, his heart, his soul and he just holds on to Luka's hand for a little longer. It's okay, he told him, you can let go, but Carter can't. He can't let go, he can't let this be real, he can't let this be a thing that just happened.
But it did happen and the stillness has a sound.
The ER has a sound, too. And it's deafening.
Suddenly everything rushes back into view. Monitors are blaring, people are yelling, one nurse is screaming down the corridor for a doctor. The thundering of footsteps, someone grabs him, pulls him back.
The nightmare isn't over.
Carter!? What the hell do you think you're doing?!
It's Benton, grabbing his shoulders, practically shaking him and staring at him with such anger and contempt that it pulls him out of the numb haze. All he can do is stammer, still dazed by the pain and the loss.
I tried to-- you weren't there, nobody was there, I had to--
You don't have to do a damn thing without me! Have you looked at him? Look at him! Look at this! Aw man, what a mess.
Benton turns him around and it's like he can see it for the first time, Luka, on the gurney. The cuts are everywhere, they make no sense, it looks like he slaughtered him himself, as if there never had been any trauma in the first place. Behind him Benton is yelling about everything he did wrong and it's his fault and he killed him...
He wakes with a yell, drenched in sweat, kicking off the blanket in a bout of panic. It takes him a moment to fully come to, eyes wide, breathing hitched and panicked as he looks around. Slowly he recognizes the room, remembers.
A dream.
Just a dream.
He stumbles off the bed, barely managing to get over to the bathroom before he throws up. There's no blood of him but he still rips his clothes off, stumbling into the shower and scrubbing at every part of his body.
There's nothing there but it still doesn't feel like it's coming off.]
cw: death, throwing up
It fills out his head, his heart, his soul and he just holds on to Luka's hand for a little longer. It's okay, he told him, you can let go, but Carter can't. He can't let go, he can't let this be real, he can't let this be a thing that just happened.
But it did happen and the stillness has a sound.
The ER has a sound, too. And it's deafening.
Suddenly everything rushes back into view. Monitors are blaring, people are yelling, one nurse is screaming down the corridor for a doctor. The thundering of footsteps, someone grabs him, pulls him back.
The nightmare isn't over.
Carter!? What the hell do you think you're doing?!
It's Benton, grabbing his shoulders, practically shaking him and staring at him with such anger and contempt that it pulls him out of the numb haze. All he can do is stammer, still dazed by the pain and the loss.
I tried to-- you weren't there, nobody was there, I had to--
You don't have to do a damn thing without me! Have you looked at him? Look at him! Look at this! Aw man, what a mess.
Benton turns him around and it's like he can see it for the first time, Luka, on the gurney. The cuts are everywhere, they make no sense, it looks like he slaughtered him himself, as if there never had been any trauma in the first place. Behind him Benton is yelling about everything he did wrong and it's his fault and he killed him...
He wakes with a yell, drenched in sweat, kicking off the blanket in a bout of panic. It takes him a moment to fully come to, eyes wide, breathing hitched and panicked as he looks around. Slowly he recognizes the room, remembers.
A dream.
Just a dream.
He stumbles off the bed, barely managing to get over to the bathroom before he throws up. There's no blood of him but he still rips his clothes off, stumbling into the shower and scrubbing at every part of his body.
There's nothing there but it still doesn't feel like it's coming off.]