Fooling Yourself

Authors Note: This isn't my first fanfic, but it is my first ER fanfic. So, I apologize if it's downright appalling. Which it probably is.

Summary: Carter's depressive state and a new underlying medical condition cause him to take drastic measures and slip back into a world full of pain, drugs and lies.

This is set in Season 7, roughly around a month after Atlanta. Mark never got a brain tumour either, so Mark doesn't die

Oh, and since I'm Australian some of my spelling may differ to how it's spelt in America, like some words with 'or' – eg; color is colour, and behavior is behaviour etc.. Sorry if that annoys anybody.

Chapter 1 ; Failure By Design.

~I awoke only to find my lungs empty, through the night it seems as if I'm not breathing. Now my dreams are nothing like they were meant to be; and I'm breaking down. I think I'm breaking down. I'm afraid to sleep, because of what haunts me. Such as living with the uncertainty that I'll never find the words to say, which would completely explain just how – I'm breaking down~

It was pitch black. That was the first thing that flashed through my mind. I couldn't see anything – It was quiet. Where was I? I looked around, but all that was there, was darkness. Complete and utter darkness. I waved my hand in front of my face, and was disappointed at the results. I couldn't see my own hand. Was I blind? Oh God. I was blind! That was it! After everything I've already been through, now I've lost my sight. My thoughts came to a halt as I heard something – it sounded as if someone was grasping for air.

"Hello?" I called out, trying to locate the sound within the darkness.

"Carter" the voice scratched out.

My head shot straight up, it couldn't be! "Lucy?" I called out again, squinting my eyes I tried to regain my sight.

"Why did you do this Carter?" I winced as I heard the words laced with pain.

"I-I didn't do anything Lucy! I never meant for this to happen!" I was pleading with her now, how could she blame me? She didn't really think it was my fault, did she?

"If you weren't so caught up in your own life Carter, you would have realised that Paul was schizophrenic! That there wasn't something right with him! But instead you ignored me, and now this happened. It was your fault Carter! It always will be! You should have been the one to die Carter! It was your mistake! Yet I was the one who had to suffer the consequences! No one would have missed you! Not like how they all miss me. You're the one who deserved to die that day Carter!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "I'm s-sorry Lucy, I never-" I stopped mid sentence. It was as if a light switch in my brain had been switched back on, everything around me lit up and I immediately regretted getting my sight back. I was back in Curtain Area 3 – I wasn't lying on the floor in pain this time though. No, this was something different.

"Lucy?" I hoped she was still here, I wanted her to know that I was sorry, if I could change things that day I would. I'd swap places with her.

I heard shuffling behind me, I turned my head ready to apologize and tell Lucy what I needed her to hear. But the sight before me caught me off guard. I gasped as I saw Paul lunge forward and plunge the knife into my back all over again. Pain flashed before my eyes.

"Aah!" He screamed into the empty bedroom. One hand was running through his hair that was now damp with sweat, the other was resting on his back unconsciously rubbing small circles on the spot where he had just envisioned himself getting stabbed.

It felt so real. I could feel it all over again, the unbearable pain. The knife –

Carter shook his head as if to banish the thoughts from his mind. He'd been having these recurring dreams for weeks now that he had gotten back from Atlanta. He couldn't recall having them when he was in rehab. Sure, he had nightmares while he was there, but they were never this bad. Ever since returning to work again, they had started back up. He brushed some stray strands of hair from his eyes and looked down at his alarm clock. The fluorescent green 3:45am stared back at him. His shift started at 6am.

Pushing the covers off of himself, he made his way into the dimly lit bathroom. Light streamed in from the small window in the corner. The street lights illuminated the mirror as he looked at his reflection.

I look terrible.

The dark circles under his eyes seemed to be getting darker by the day. A clear sign that he wasn't getting the right amount of sleep he needed. His eyes that were once full of life now just looked dull and empty. The dark circles underneath them just complemented the look. His hair was sticking out in various different ways from the obvious tussle he had while he was in bed.

Turning the knob for the cold water, he sighed. He cupped his palms underneath the faucet and once an adequate amount of water had gathered, he bobbed his head down towards his hands and splashed the cold water on his face. If the nightmare hadn't completely awoken him, the cold water now had.

He started back at his reflection as he watched the water droplets trickle down his brow and run down his cheek. As they were running down his cheek he noticed how similar it looked to as if he was crying. He had long ago stopped crying – there were basically no more tears he could cry. Everything just felt empty and numb now. But watching the water droplets made him remember the times that he had cried over the ordeal. The tears he cried because of Lucy's death and the tears he cried because of the excruciating pain radiating through his back. Remembering these times when he had felt emotion, made him feel a twinge of sadness. The smallest bit of hope that he had left was relieved to find that he atleast could still feel an emotion – even if it was only one emotion. Everything wasn't numb and even if it wasn't the one he wished he could feel. He wanted to feel happiness again, he wanted to feel love. But he knew that was a lost cause. Those feelings were long gone, and he had an inkling that they weren't coming back.

He sighed again as his mind wandered back to the nightmare he had just had. Remembering all the things that Lucy had said to him – did she really feel that way about him. That he deserved to die. Sure, he felt like dying at times. But he didn't know if he actually deserved to.

Maybe she was right. She did have a lot of potential, she was young and smart. She got accepted into psych – she would have made an excellent psychologist. But instead, she never got the chance. Yet I did, I survived. Why? For what purpose? I could never fill Lucy's spot and become a great psychologist. Hell! I couldn't even become a damn surgeon! Lucy was right. She shouldn't have died. I should have. Because all I ever do is fail. Why should a failure get a chance at life – when Lucy, the smart, loving Lucy had her life ripped from her at such a young age.

"I am just a failure" he repeated to himself out loud. Believing every word he said.

Carter glanced over his shoulder to try and read the time; he squinted his eyes and tried to read the numbers – 4:07am. For around 20 minutes he had been standing there. Just staring off into space; pondering his life, wondering again about the "what ifs" – there were no what ifs. Just cold hard facts, Lucy died and he survived. He wondered whose bright idea that was. If there was a higher power; a God. Why did he insist on taking Lucy's life and not his? He couldn't help but feel another emotion slowly creeping its way up. He hated this emotion as much as he hated the other one. He frowned as the guilt washed over him.

He shook himself out of his reverie and decided that a nice cold shower would do some good right about now. He slipped his t-shirt over his head, but paused midway with his arms still in the air above his head, shirt still in their grasp. He looked into the mirror once again, and wasn't surprised to notice the outline of his ribcage. He knew he should eat more, but frankly he wasn't that hungry, and to be honest. He really just couldn't be bothered.

He removed the rest of his clothing and stepped into the shower, turned the cold water on and he let it wash over his body. He closed his eyes and relaxed, leaning his head back against the cold tiled wall.

After a good 40 minutes Carter stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist and shook his head to expel any excess water off his hair. The remaining water dribbled down his back. The effect the water had made him shiver – he made his way back into the bedroom and started rummaging around his closet. Quickly pulling a white t-shirt over his head he went in search for a clean dress shirt. Grabbing his newly found shirt, pants and boxers he began to get dressed for work. Once he was dressed, minus his shoes and socks and his tie he headed into the kitchen to get some much needed coffee. On the way he grabbed his watch by his nightstand table.

Looking down at his watch he noted that it was now 10 to 5. He had work in an hour – he wondered if his colleagues had noticed his depressed mood. He tried to make it look like everything was ok, and that he truly was happy. But could they see through his facade? Did they notice that it was all an act? Well if they did no one had said anything and that was fine by him.

After making his coffee he nursed the cup in his hand. After the cold shower he had just had, the warmth from the cup was refreshing. He walked over to where a large window was located on the far wall, staring down at the silent streets below him he watched as the trees gently moved from the slight breeze. There was hardly anybody in sight, as it was still early in the morning. The odd car or two would drive past. Carter placed the half empty cup in the sink, and rinsed it out. Leaving the cup in the sink he headed towards his room to fetch his shoes, socks and his tie. Once he gathered the items he tugged his socks on followed suit by his shoes. Draping his tie around his neck he picked his dark suit jacket up and swung it over his shoulder. After mentally making sure he had everything he flicked the light switch to the lounge room on, since his shift finished at night he didn't want to have to stumble through the dark when he got home. The room immediately became bright and he winced at the sudden sensitivity he had towards the light. Grabbing his keys and satchel he headed out the door.

He was soon in his jeep, on his way to work. He glanced at the dashboard and the time glared back at him – 5:21am. He was going to get their early, if anyone asked it was because he needed to catch up on charts. Not because he couldn't bear being at home with himself and his thoughts.

~The most dramatic conflicts are perhaps, those that take place not between men. But between a man and himself – where the arena of conflict is a solitary mind~

The quote flashed through his mind as he remembered once reading it in one of the many books his father had in the library. It had always stayed with him throughout his years. Maybe it was the truth in the fact.

Finally arriving at the hospital he glanced back down at the dashboard, 5:30am. He wasn't on till another 30minutes. He could get enough coffee at Doc Magoo's – or maybe even get a bite to eat. The thought of food suddenly made him nauseous. So he scratched that off his list. He really needed to start eating more. His clothes practically hung off him now. He knew that his colleagues did in fact notice his rapidly deteriorating weight. He used to weigh a good solid 170lbs – he knew back then that, that wasn't really that much. But last week he had weighed himself and found that he was just hitting the 152lbs mark. But by now he knew it was probably down to 150lbs. He just hoped they didn't question him about it. He didn't want to hear their opinions on how he now had anorexia. He silently chuckled to himself. He knew he didn't. He didn't deliberately starve himself, he just... wasn't hungry

Upon entering the ER he noticed that the chairs were pretty much empty, besides the one or two stray loved ones of a patient and the odd drunk.

The first person he noticed was Deb. She was sitting at the desks skimming through a patient's folder. Carter remembered back when he and Deb had been rivals at the start, both fighting over who would get to complete what procedure. He was shocked when he learned that she was dropping out because of the guide wire incident. He remembered trying to persuade her to stay, but to no avail. But now that she had come back, their friendship was almost immediate. They had their ups and downs, but he was pretty sure that she was his best friend here in the ER. He regretted bringing up her past mistake that day when they staged the intervention. But he was extremely angry at them all. But now he had them to thank, because if it wasn't for them noticing his problem – he would most likely be dead, in jail or like his cousin Chase – mentally handicapped.

He plastered his fake smile on his face as he approached her. "Hey Deb, how's it been going?"

Deb looked up and tried to hide the shock on her face. Her shift finished at 6am and that's when Carter's started. She didn't think she'd run into him this morning, was it already six? She quickly glanced at her watch and noticed it was still 5:30ish.

Carter's here early. She thought to herself. "Hey Carter. It's been pretty quiet, hardly any traumas. Just a few drunks needing to sleep it off... you're here early?" she smiled up at him.

"Oh. Yeah I have a lot of charts to catch up on, so I thought I'd get an early start on them." He sheepishly grinned at her.

"Ah I see. Well I'll let you catch up on your charts then. I've still got a few to do before I clock off anyway."

Carter said his goodbyes and headed towards the lounge. After putting his things away and exchanging his jacket for his lab coat and wrapping his stethoscope around his neck he headed back towards the admit desk.

Haleh approached him "They're bringing in an unconscious sixteen year old. ETA is 5 minutes" with that she left him and headed into trauma 1 to get ready for the impending trauma.

Carter hated it when they got young patients. Why were so many young people getting injured lately? Between the MVA's and the gang wars he was amazed half the schools were still populated. How someone could hurt someone so young was beyond him. His mind briefly flashed to Lucy before he banished those thoughts.

Before he could continue his line of thought the ambulance bay doors burst open and a gurney was getting pushed through them. The 16 year old male was lying on the gurney with one of the paramedics feverishly performing chest compressions. Carter followed along side, but for some reason he couldn't seem to snap himself out of some sort of trance.

"16 year old male, flat line" he heard one of the paramedics yell as he saw Mark and Deb approaching them as well.

"All right, how long has he been down?" Mark questioned helping push the gurney into trauma 1.

"Uh, unknown. His mother found him in his room. We've been working on him for 20 minutes though. Gave him two rounds of epi and two of atropine." The paramedic responded.

"Any signs of life?" Deb questioned the paramedic.

"Yeah, we did get him back en route. But we lost him again."

"Okay then, on my count. One... two... three" Mark stated, taking control of the trauma. The boy was then moved from the paramedic's stretcher and onto their gurney. "Right let's hook him up to a monitor. Carter – intubate him." At the mention of his name, Carter snapped out of his daze and looked up at Mark who was staring intently back at him for a second. "Carter! Come on, now! Move it!" he yelled before returning to the patient.

Carter then realised that Chuni was standing next to him holding out a laryngoscope. He took it and proceeded to intubate. "Ok, I'm in" he announced. Suddenly as if out of nowhere it popped into his head. "Wait. Were there any signs of drugs? Suicide?" he stumbled out. Not looking up at his colleagues.

"No, he told his mom that he had a bad headache and was feeling dizzy all day. He went to lie down and I guess he never woke up" The paramedic relayed to Carter.

"Sounds like a subarachnoid haemorrhage." Groaned Mark. The chances of saving this kid were slim.

"His chances of survival are pretty low, right?" Chuni asked. As if reading his mind.

Mark ignored her question, but saw Deb nod in response to Chuni. "He's got no readable pulse." He announced.

"Asystole!" Haleh shouted.

"No spontaneous respiration!" Deb yelled over the persistent beeping noise.

"No response to pain either" Mark exclaimed.

"Ahh. His p-pupils are fixed and, and dilated" Carter again stumbled out.

Mark looked up and for the first time took in Carter's appearance, he looked as if he was having one hell of a time concentrating. "The paramedics got him back en route; maybe we can do it again. Okay! Let's have a high dose epi, a pulse ox and an end tidal CO2 detector." Mark sighed.

Deb took over the compressions as the paramedics wished the team the best of luck and left. "Time?" she questioned.

"17 minutes" Haleh replied, frowning.

"Still no pulse. He's still Asystole." Chuni chimed in.

"Keep trying. Give another 10 of epi." Mark knew that they probably wouldn't get him back, but he wanted to be able to tell the kid's mother – that they had tried everything they could. As if on cue, Jerry's head popped through the door.

"Dr. Greene? The boy's mother just arrived. She's out in chairs. She uh, she wants to speak to someone."

Mark glanced up and saw Carter standing there, again as if he was in some sort of trance. I wonder what his problem is? "Carter? Carter! You wanna go do that? Don't get her hopes up though. Try and tell her that we're trying all we can, but the outlook doesn't look good."

Carter acknowledged what Mark was saying and nodded and headed out of the trauma rooms. What the hell was wrong with him! He kept spacing out all the time. He could hardly focus on what he was doing.

I really need more sleep. He thought before making his way over to the boy's mother. "Ma'am, I'm Dr. Carter, I'm one of the doctors who are working on your son-" he was cut off by the mother's interruption.

"My son! How's he doing? Is he okay?" she bombarded him with questions.

"Your son's heart stopped beating, and we are exhausting all of our capabilities to get it started again. We're using intravenous drugs, and we're doing CPR on him."

"Oh my God! Wh-why would his heart stop like that! He's only 16!" she sobbed.

"It seems that he suffered a brain haemorrhage, which then caused the cardiac arrest." Carter always hated breaking the bad news to the patient's loved ones.

"H-how? How could that happen to him!" She looked up at Carter, her eyes full of unshed tears.

"It's possibly from a weak artery. But, you see. The thing is... he's been down for an awfully long time, and the longer that he goes without getting any oxygen; the less likely it is that we can bring him back. I'm sorry"

With that the boy's mother collapsed in the chairs, and started sobbing. Carter gave her a pat on the back, "I'm sorry." He whispered again and headed back towards the trauma room.

"All right, let's hold compressions. Any rhythm?" Mark asked.

"Nope. Still flat line." Chuni replied shaking her head.

"Okay" Mark sighed. "Let's call it – time of death 6:07am"

Carter stood in the doorway of the trauma room. He heard the announcement. The kid didn't make it. 7 minutes into his shift and he had already lost his first patient.

Terrific.

Mark looked up from the patient and towards the doors to see Carter's retreating back. There's something going on with him. He thought to himself.

Carter slammed the doors to the lounge open and headed towards the coffee maker.

Failure! Failure! Failure! Failure! Was all that was going through his head. He had failed again. Maybe if Lucy was in there she could have saved the darn kid! Instead of having some failure in there! He bitterly chuckled.

He knew he was being harsh on himself, but he didn't care. He had failed again, and now some poor mother had just lost her son. He reached for the coffee pot, but just as he grasped it a sharp pain shot through his skull causing him to drop the pot and clutch at his head. "Ah!" he groaned as a wave of dizziness swept over him. As fast as the pain had come on, it was gone.

Now he stared down at the broken glass surrounding his feet.

Just great. Now I have to clean that up. Before he had the chance to even start his cleaning up process the doors to the lounge swung open.

"Carter. We need to have a talk" and with that Carter turned his head and his eyes locked onto Mark Greene's. He couldn't help but notice the serious expression that was on his face.

Please R&R! Thanks :) xo