Work Text:
Peter was about to lose it. His third-year med student, Roger Brown, was about as useful as a wet piece of paper. For the last four months, he had been following Peter around like a lost, confused puppy and messed up at least four times every shift. They were, for the most part, stupid mistakes that did nothing more than annoy Peter with minor inconveniences, but there were times when Peter worried for his job and the lives of the patients.
"Brown," Peter sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel his limited patience wearing thinner with each passing second. "When the patient tells you they are allergic to lidocaine, you don't give them lidocaine." Just moments ago Peter had to rip a syringe out of Brown's hand after the guy tried to inject a sweet old lady with the very thing she said she was terribly allergic to. While he managed to avoid a lawsuit, he was stuck with having to teach his supposedly competent med student what allergies were.
"Right, Dr. Benton. I'll do better next time." Peter shot Lydia a look to try and express his exasperation (Mark gave him an earful last week about being nicer to Brown because a few people complained about having to listen to him berate the guy every few hours), but she only shrugged her shoulders.
"Sutures for you in Exam 2," she said while handing Peter a chart. He breathed deeply to push away his annoyance and shoved the chart into Brown's chest before snatching it back.
"I'll do it," he grumbled, shooting Brown a glare. "You'll probably end up killing this one if you went in there. Just work on the charts." He didn't wait for a response before angrily making his way over to Exam 2. It wasn't that sutures were difficult, but Peter knew there were better things he could be doing with his time. Better surgeries that he could actually learn from.
"I'm Dr. Benton and I'll be doing your sutures, Mr. Carter." He tucked the chart away before settling himself on the stool by the bed. The patient was a young man with a pretty nasty head lac just on the edge of his hairline. He had his hair pinned back so it wasn't in the way of the wound, so Peter could see the irritated edges of it clearly.
"Hi, Doctor," he said with a toothy smile that made him look way too happy for where he was. "No allergies to lidocaine or other medications and no medical conditions."
"I assume you've done this before," Peter said as he pulled his gloves on.
"A few, time" the patient seemed a bit sheepish. "I'm a bit accident prone."
"And what happened this time?" Peter brought his hands up to examine the wound a bit, feeling the edges of it and checking how deep it was. It was red and slightly puffy, but the bleeding had stopped and wasn't radiating any heat.
"Hit my head on a cabinet." Peter gave him a quite unprofessional look that had the patient laughing. "Pretty stupid, I know. I told you I was accident prone."
"Well, Mr. Carter, I'm going to clean your wound and get started on your stitches."
-
Peter discharged Mr. Carter with instructions to keep the area clean and return in seven days to have the sutures removed. The man, who was a bit too chatty through the suturing process, promised to return before thanking Peter. The patient was a decent enough distraction from his miserable role as supervisor to the worst med student ever, but far too soon Peter was face-to-face with the mess of Roger Brown.
"Dr. Benton," Brown called out from where he was frantically picking up the contents of a crash cart he no doubt knocked over. Peter held off his urge to yell at the guy and walked -away to calm down.
-
"Dr. Benton!" His patient from a week ago, John Carter, he remembered, was standing at the admit desk with a grin spread across his face. He was happily chatting with Jerry just moments before and Peter almost thought the scene looked sweet if it wasn't for the giant bruise that swelled Carter's left eye. "I'm here to get my stitches removed."
"Mr. Carter," Peter greeted him back when he made his way over to the pair. "I see you also have another injury."
"Yeah," he said with a shy smile and a quick shrug. "Accident prone." Peter nodded, remembering him being 'accident prone' was the reason for the head lac, too. He didn't say anything though and just guided Mr. Carter to a bed so he could remove his sutures. It wasn't his place to question the patients.
-
Peter went a whole month without seeing John Carter, the severely accident prone 23-year-old who liked to talk to anyone he could. When Peter removed his sutures a month ago, the guy chatted away to him, the nurses, and the patient on the bed next to him. He constantly had something to say, and it drove Peter crazy. But a month had passed, and Peter almost forgot about his head lac (and black eye) patient until Lydia was handing him a chart.
"Chatty kid is back with a hand laceration in need of sutures." Peter opened the chart to see 'John Carter' and he sighed. He thought about handing the case off to Brown (who had not improved in the last month) but decided against it. Peter needed to practice his sutures anyway.
With a vague sense of deja vu, Peter opened the door to Exam 1 and introduced himself. Carter happily greeted Peter before presenting his hand lac to him.
"Knife slipped when I was cutting some vegetables," he said. Accident prone, Peter's mind supplied. Peter quickly got to work, and John was instructed to return in 12 days for removal.
-
Carter did not return 12 days later. Peter had the man in the back of his mind all day, but he never showed. Despite him enthusiastically promising to return, he didn't. Peter didn't care though, it wasn't any of his business. He did ask the admit desk if Carter showed the next day when he was off, but it wasn't because he cared. He just liked to make sure his patients were healing, that was all.
Soon, Peter did forget about John Carter. All he could focus on was supervising Brown and his upcoming surgeries that he needed to do some studying for. A couple of them were new, so Peter was reading up on the literature so he could impress the other doctors he would be working with.
It was 19 days after he stitched up Carter's hand and the day of his gallbladder surgery that Lydia stopped him in the hall. "John Carter is in Exam 2. He brought a sick kid in, but it looks like he still has his sutures in." Peter sighed and angrily made his way over to his patient who was apparently not here as a patient. He worried a bit about the man's hand. Keeping sutures in for too long could lead to a number of complications and it hadn't just been a day or two, but an entire week.
Peter opened the door to Exam 2 and saw Doug looking over a young girl who was dressed in a hospital gown. Just off to the side was John Carter, his arms crossed and face scrunched up in worry.
"Is she okay?" he asked, his voice dripping with nerves. "I wanted to bring her in sooner, but I just couldn't find an opportunity. She's gotten a lot worse over the last few days and I-."
"Mr. Carter," Doug interrupted as he put his stethoscope around his neck. "You brought her in at a good time, don't worry. I will need to take a chest X-ray to confirm, but there's a chance she has fungal pneumonia. It is uncommon, but treatable with some antifungal medications." He gave Carter a smile before turning to Peter. "What's going on? Why are you down here?"
Carter turned to look at him, a toothy grin spreading across his face with a cut tugging at his skin. That wasn't there last time he was in. He waved with his injured hand and Peter could see his irritated sutures.
"For that," he said, pointing at Carter's hand. "Leaving stitches in past their removal date is a very bad idea, Mr. Carter. I need to remove them and see if there are any signs of infection, scarring, or if it needs to be restitched."
"Oh," he said, looking down at his hand. He shot Doug a nervous glance before looking back st Peter. He kept his eyes averted, lowering his head a bit. "I'm really sorry, Dr. Benton. I know I promised I would come back and I didn't. I was unable to find the time, but I ruined your hard work. I'm sorry." He sounded genuinely sorrowful, his hands having moved to clasp in front of him at one point almost as if he was non-verbally pleading with Peter to accept his apology.
Peter shared a look with Doug who looked just as confused before nodding (not that Carter could see, his head still down). "That's alright," he said slowly. "I should take a look at your hand, though." Carter nodded and followed Peter out the room with one last look at the young girl. Doug's assurances that she would be well taken care of followed them out the door and down the hall to the next room.
Peter got the necessary tools ready while Carter sat on the bed. He still looked upset about the situation and, not that he would ever admit it, Peter started to worry. The guy was over a week late to his appointment, didn't even seem like he was aware of his hand, and practically shut down when Peter mentioned his lateness.
"Alright, show me your hand." Carter placed his hand on the little overbed table. Peter gentle took his hand in his own gloved ones to examine the sutures. The skin around them was inflamed and an angry red. It didn't feel hot which was a good sign, but it still looked like the wound was in early stages of infection that would need to be treated.
It also appeared that the skin had started to grow over the stitching. Peter sighed, that was exactly what he was worried about. It wasn't the end of the world and certainly something Peter was capable of doing, but it will result it more scarring.
"I will need to remove these stitches and you will have to take some antibiotics because there are signs of infection." He glanced up at Carter, but he was still looking down. "The scarring might be worse than expected, but your hand will heal just fine. If you ever get stitches in the future, it is very important to get them removed on time."
"I understand, thank you."
There was a pause before Peter spoke again. "Okay, I'll clean your wound and remove the stitches."
-
The removal took longer than usual, but was nothing Peter couldn't handle. Carter was quiet the entire time, completely different from his usual chatty self. Normally Peter wouldn't mind a quiet patient (and he would mind an overly chatty one), but something about John Carter being quiet was unnerving despite Peter barely knowing the guy. It was so unnerving, in fact, that Peter tried to think of several conversation starters before bailing on all of them. He considered asking Carter about his split lip, but stopped himself.
It wasn't his place.
The minute Peter was done treating Carter, the man was back next to the girl who was now peacefully sleeping in the bed. Peter followed and looked over the girl's chart with slight interest. Her name was Liliana Cavo, 10 years old, and confirmed to have fungal pneumonia.
"She's my neighbor's daughter," Carter said suddenly, his uninjured hand clutched tightly in hers. "She got sick a few days ago, but I wasn't able to find the time to bring her in. Her mom works, you know, so it was up to me." He sounded guilty and sad and Peter was lost on what to say. He didn't have to think too hard, however, because moments later Doug returned and Carter eagerly started asking questions about Lilian's health. Feeling like an intruder, Peter left to get ready for his gallbladder surgery.
-
Peter saw Carter every so often over the next several days. He stayed by Liliana's side during her entire treatment. Peter sometimes heard him singing or reading stories to the girl, his voice quiet and gentle. He also caught him chatting with the nurses and doctor's, his mouth moving so fast Peter swore he wasn't even saying real words. In those days, Carter formed connections with people all around the hospital, but Peter avoided him.
"Carter and the girl left today," Haleh told him when he dropped a chart on the admit desk. "He's a sweet boy."
"I'd hope to see him again if I didn't work here," Carol chimed in, her and Haleh drifting into quiet chuckles as they shared some story about Carter that Peter missed out on. He walked away with feigned disinterest.
-
Over the next few months Carter showed up in the ER too many times to be normal for decently minor injuries. He had a few more cuts that needed sutures, a nail in his hand, a couple burns across his arm, blurry vision after spilling something in them (he said he didn't know what it was), and hearing problems after hitting his head. The more he came in, the closer he got with the staff and the more suspicious everyone became of how he obtained the injuries. He maintained his "accident prone" reasoning and always had a story to tell when asked. They felt rehearsed, but it wasn't Peter's business. He technically wasn't needed for any of Carter's injuries, but someone always paged him because after treating him the first two times, he became "Peter's chatty patient."
Peter tugged his pager out of his pocket that went off right after he finished up in the OR. It was for the ER floor, so he quickly made his way down, silently hoping for an interesting case. When he got down, however, there was almost nothing going on, the floor quiet and subdued.
"Hey, why'd you page me?" he asked, grabbing Mark's arm when he turned the corner.
"John Carter came in with a fractured wrist," he said while pointing at the admit desk. Carter was sitting on a stool with his left arm in a sling and his legs dangling childishly over the floor. He was grinning at Malik, Wendy, and Carol who were laughing loudly. They continued to laugh as Peter made his way over.
"Heard you broke your wrist." Carter spun around on the stool and widened his grin when he saw Peter. Peter struggled to not smile back.
"Only a fracture," he shrugged. "Dr. Greene said I only need the splint for three to five weeks."
"How'd you manage it?"
"Oh, I slipped and fell. I'm a-."
"Accident prone, I know," Peter said, cutting him off. The excuse was losing its validity the more Carter used it and everyone was noticing it. Sure, the kid could be really accident prone, or something deeper was happening. Whatever it was, Peter was worried. In fact, the whole ER staff was worried.
"Hopefully you can stay steady enough for the next few weeks." Mark returned with an extra sling and handed it to Carter. "If you this accident prone, I wouldn't want to know how often you lose things."
Carter grinned, "thanks, Dr. Greene." He soon fell back into whatever story he was telling the nurses to get them so giddy, the calmness of the ER allowing him to stay and chat with everyone. Peter thought about leaving to find something to do (because there was always something), but he decided that he could stay for a few minutes. Mark stayed too, his face stretched into a smile as he watched Carter talk and gesture one-handed through his story.
It must have only been about ten minutes later when a tall woman dressed in a sleek dress and noisy heels strutted into the ER. She opened her mouth before quickly shutting it when her eyes landed on Carter. Before anyone could say anything, she walked right pass Peter and Mark to stop in front of where Carter was slightly twisting on the stool.
"John," she said, her voice cold and demanding. "What do you think you're doing here?"
He almost seemed to shrink the second her heard her voice, his shoulders curling and back slouching. "I fractured my wrist."
"Stop that twisting now, John, you're not a child." He immediately stopped and averted his eyes to the ground. "A fracture, you said? How dramatic, you barely fell earlier. Let's go." She grabbed Carter by his arm that was in the sling making him wince, but he stood and followed her when she started to drag him away.
"Ma'am," Mark called out. "He really did fracture his wrist."
She turned, her icy gaze landing on Mark. "Excuse me?"
"He needs to avoid any unnecessary movement with his left arm and needs to keep the sling on for three to five weeks before coming in for a check-in." The woman looked at Mark with disinterest which he immediately clocked with thinly veiled annoyance. "Are you his mother, ma'am?"
"His mother?" She looked offended, her mouth dropped open slightly before her jaw clenched. "I am his girlfriend and I will be having my personal physician look over John." With that, she stomped down the hall with her hand still tightly wrapped around Carter's arm. He followed her without complaint and disappeared out the door.
"His girlfriend?" Carol asked, face scrunched in confusion. "She has to be almost twice his age."
-
Carter didn't return for almost two months. Peter told the nursing staff to page him if he did (not that they didn't already) and waited around for the man needing more sutures or other treatment. He didn't even show to get his fracture checked which worried Peter, but Mark said his girlfriend probably found him a different doctor. It made sense, the woman did seem to look down on the ER in the one minute she was in it, but that didn't lessen Peter's worry.
And it wasn't that Peter wanted Carter to be hurt enough to need the ER, but it was strange that he suddenly disappeared. Something was wrong and despite Peter trying to push it away, he worried. He was worried about why Carter got injured so frequently and why he no longer showed up at the ER. He was worried about why Carter had such a cold girlfriend who treated him roughly and was definitely too old for him.
But it wasn't him place. What Carter did in his free time was none of Peter's business. He shouldn't worry about a random patient, but he did. Over the last half year, Carter had become a regular at the ER and wormed his way into the hearts of the staff that treated him over and over. He chatted with people, telling stories and asking questions. He thanked the doctors and the staff. He got people invested in his well-being despite all of them knowing that they shouldn't see him as anything more than a patient who needed treatment just like all the rest.
When Carter finally did return it was on a gurney from an ambulance with a broken wrist, a serious head lac, fractured ribs, and a canopy of bruises across his entire body.
Peter was paged when Carter was brought in, but he didn't arrive until he was already stripped and stabilized. Upon entering the trauma room, Peter was greeted with his body that was covered in bruises. The closer he got, the more he could see. Many were new, but there were yellowing ones in various stages of healing. As he got even closer, he could see scars the stretched across Carter's body, white raised lines scattered across his skin.
"What do we have?" Peter asked when he finally found his voice. Mark quickly rattled off Carter's vitals. They weren't perfect, but they were good enough. "What happened to him?"
"Paramedics found him at the bottom of the stairs in his apartment building. A young girl called it in, said he got pushed." Liliana, Peter thought. She probably witnessed Carter's fall and called for an ambulance.
"Did you take a chest X-ray and head CT?"
"Yeah, three rib fractures, but no major damage. Head CT was clear, but he does have a nasty head lac. Definitely needs sutures, but he was lucky." Lucky. Peter wanted to scoff. It seemed that Carter was anything but lucky.
-
Carter was moved out of the trauma room not too long after. Peter wanted to suture his head wound, but ended up passing it over to Brown when he was Liliana standing scared and confused by the admit desk. Jerry was trying to talk to her, but he only gave him nervous glances every so often.
"These better be the best damn sutures you've ever done," he told Brown before making his way over to the girl. Brown had improved over the last few months so Peter wasn't too worried. Part of him still wished he could do them though.
"Liliana," he called when he got closer. The girl looked up at him and frowned. "I'm Dr. Benton, do you remember me from when you were sick?" She nodded and stepped closer.
"You took care of Mr. Johnny," she said, her voice cracking with sadness. Peter smiled a bit and crouched in front of her.
"I did. I'm taking care of him right now." There was no reason for Peter to take care of him seeing he didn't need surgery, but something made Peter want to see this out. "Did you get help when Ca- uh, John fell?"
"He didn't fall." She leaned in close like she was telling Peter a secret. "Mean Ms. Lena pushed him. I saw her do it."
"Ms. Lena?" he questioned. He assumed it was that woman from a couple months ago. Carter's way too old girlfriend.
"She lives with Mr. Johnny, but she's not nice like him. She yells at me and she hits him." There was a pause before she leaned in even closer. "When he brought me back home after I got better, Ms. Lena yelled so much. She hit him over and over and he was bleeding." She pulled away and Peter could see the tears streaming down her face. "Today she was yelling too, so I looked and saw her push Mr. Johnny down the stairs."
"Okay, it's good that you called for help. Do you think you could tell that story to my friend Al? He wants to help John get better too." Liliana thought it over for a few seconds, her brows scrunched in deep contemplation before she nodded. Peter gently led her over to where Officer Al Grabarsky was standing with Lydia. He introduced the two of them, gave Liliana a reassuring smile, and left to check on Carter.
"How are those sutures?" Peter asked Brown who was hunched over in careful concentration.
"Almost finished. Best sutures I've ever done." Peter grunted in acknowledgement. He should praise his student, but he wasn't in the mood to do such a thing. It was just confirmed that his long time patient was a victim of abuse and very likely that every wound Peter ever treated was due to domestic violence. It made Peter sick.
Brown finished up the last stitch and rolled away from the bed. From where Peter was standing, the sutures looked good. He planned to examine them closer when Brown left just to make sure. "Good," he forced himself to say. There was no real emotion behind it and if Brown noticed, he didn't say anything.
"Thanks. I tried extra hard because I know how much Mr. Carter means to everyone. He's just a patient, but people love him." Brown excused himself with one final glance at Carter's unconscious figure.
It was odd, Peter supposed. Carter was just a patient, but somewhere along the way he became something more. The staff loved him. They chatted with him, laughed at his jokes, brought him food, and let him stay longer than necessary. Maybe it was how often they saw him, but maybe it was just because Carter was a likeable guy. He spoke to everyone kindly no matter their job. The nurses and janitorial staff received the same polite respect that the doctors got. He tried to get to know them a bit and always remembered small facts about people. It was so tiny in the grand scheme of things, but it was very touching to be appreciated by a stranger.
Carter was just a good guy and that made it so hard for Peter to wrap his head around the fact that he was being abused by his girlfriend.
-
When Carter woke up he first time, Peter was in surgery. One of the nurses let him know once he was finished, but said there was no point in going down to check on him.
"He had to sedated," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. "He panicked and said he needed to get back home. Tried to get out of bed."
The next time he woke up, Peter was at the admit desk getting more information on the situation. Al was nice enough to come in and update them, his face solemn. "We arrested Lena Williams a few hours ago. She has a pretty damn good lawyer though, so I'm not sure if anything will even happen. I looked around the apartment when I was there and found evidence of long-term abuse among the pristine decor, so we just have to wait."
Haleh let out a tired sigh and snagged a couple charts from the desk. "Poor kid," she frowned. "Did you call his family? We haven't been able to."
Al grimaced. "I don't think they'll show up." Peter wanted to press for more information, but it was unlikely that Al could even provide them with any more details. He was being vague for a reason and Peter wasn't trying to get the guy in trouble.
"What a shame," Carol whispered sadly. "He's such a nice guy. I can't believe he was being abused." Before anyone could respond, Brown called Peter's name. He left the group with a tight smile and their voices drifted quieter and quieter as he moved down the hall. Brown was standing with his head sticking out from Carter's private room.
"He's awake." Peter quickly pushed his way in the room and sure enough Carter's eyes were open. He looked confused and a bit scared, but he made no move to get out of bed.
"Dr. Benton," he said after a few moments. His voice was rough and he coughed a few times. Peter told Brown to get some ice chips before grabbing a stool from the corner of the room and sitting next to Carter's bed.
"How do you feel?"
Carter blinked sluggishly a few times. "Okay."
"Are you in any pain?" He was on some heavy pain medication for his multiple fractured or broken bones, so there shouldn't be much pain. If there was any though, Peter wanted to do his best to get rid of it. Carter didn't deserve the pain he was in.
"No. I just feel fuzzy." Brown returned with a small cup of ice chips.
"That's to be expected," he replied as he helped drop a couple of the ice chips into Carter's mouth. This was usually the job of a nurse or med student, but Peter wanted to do it himself. He thanked Brown quickly and told him to see some other patients.
After a few minutes and several ice chips later, Carter spoke again, his voice clearer. "When can I go home?"
"Not for a few days. Do you have someone we can call?" He didn't seem to have any family to call if what Al said was any indication, but maybe he had a friend.
"I should call my girlfriend. She'll be, uh, worried if I don't get home soon." Carter's fingers fiddled with the blanket and his heart rate increased a bit. Peter nodded, but didn't say anything. What could he say? I know your girlfriend abuses you. Oh, and she's been arrested? Maybe he should get Al to come in and break the news to Carter. He considered it for a moment, but decided against it, sighing as he tried to think of what to say.
"You can't call her," he settled on. Carter titled his head in confusion and Peter thought he looked so young. He looked just like a child who was struggling to understand a situation. "I spoke with Liliana who also spoke to the police." Carter's breath hitched and his eyes widened. "She told us that she saw you get pushed down the stairs."
Carter forced out a chuckle, but it was void of any humor. It sounded empty and strained. "Oh, she really does have quite the imagination! I just tripped, I swear. I can be a bit accident prone."
"Do you think anyone believes that?" Peter snapped unkindly. Carter flinched back as though he had been slapped and Peter was very quickly encroaching on unprofessional behavior, but he didn't care. "I can't even count how many times you've ended up in the ER with the same damn excuse. This isn't accident prone, Carter. This is abuse. I saw the bruises and the scars. The police saw your apartment." He had no idea what the police actually saw there, but it had to be significant enough for Al to mention.
"It's really not that bad," he fought back weakly. His voice was quiet and desperate.
"You're stuck in bed with three fractured ribs, a broken wrist, bruises that cover half your body, and a head wound that could've been very serious. It is that bad. You are in an abusive relationship. What is denying it going to do for you besides kill you one day?"
Peter knew he was being incredibly unprofessional. This was no way to talk to a patient, but he couldn't find it within himself to care. He had seen dozens of abuse victims, young and old, die on the table when their abuser went too far. He listened to people defend their abuser and he understood on some level why they did it, but he couldn't watch Carter do it. The kid was different. He wasn't just another patient that Peter could push into the back of his mind. He was something more. The people in the ER cared for him more than the average patient, Peter cared for him. It made it hard to just sit here and listen to Carter dismiss the abuse he suffered.
Carter was quiet and Peter worried that he pushed too far. For a moment, he started to think that maybe he was a bit too unprofessional, but then Carter opened his mouth to speak. "You know," he started, voice just above a whisper. "I wanted to be a doctor. My brother was sick when we were kids and I wanted to be the type of guy to make people better."
Peter, suddenly feeling awkward and very unsure, sat there quietly.
"My family sort of forgot about me after my brother died and somehow I found myself involved with Lena right out of high school. I don't know if you noticed but she's a bit older than me," he huffed out a laugh, but Peter couldn't find himself to laugh along. "18 and 42," he said grimly. "I don't know how it happened, but she was so nice at first and I think I wanted an older woman to care about me."
He fell silent after that, his face flushed in embarrassment. His fingers were tangled in the blanket and he refused to look up at Peter. He looked so young. So, so young. Peter wanted to yell at someone just knowing that 18 year old Carter who was neglected by his parents got pulled into a predatory relationship with a woman who manipulated and abused him. He forced himself to calm down.
"I know plenty of women who care about you," he offered with a tint of humor in his voice. Carter looked up curiously. "Haleh, Carol, Lydia, Wendy, and just about every other nurse and doctor in the entire ER care about you. I don't know how you did it, but you've become everyone's favorite patient. I know you don't know us, but I promise you have people who want to see you get better."
Carter nodded, his eyes teary. "What's going to happen?" he asked, voice shaking with emotion that he was trying to hold back. A few tears dripped down his cheeks and he quickly wiped them away with his uninjured arm.
"I don't know. The officer who Liliana spoke to is here now. He will want to speak with you and will have more information than I do. I can bring him in now if you think you're up for it?"
"Yeah, thanks."
"Okay." Peter stood from the stool and made his way to the door. He looked back before leaving and smiled at Carter. "Oh, and I don't want to see you back in this hospital as a patient, you got it? I think Dr. Carter sounds pretty good."
Carter smiled and chuckled softly. "I think it sounds good too."