"There To Catch Him If He Falls"
by Melissa and Cathy (glroberts@bigfoot.com
It didn't really require much thought on my part. I decided to apply for a sub-I in Psych. It seems to suit me, and I feel pretty comfortable there. I like listening; I think that's all some people need to help with their problems. Others need intensive counseling, sure, and quite a few need medication.
I've taken Ritalin for ADHD for several years now, it helps me stay focused on what I'm doing. Even though it is a stimulant, so far it hasn't proved to be addictive, like speed would be. I've wondered sometimes, because I've been taking it so long, whether I'm psychologically addicted.. There's even a black market in it at schools, because people are looking for a quick high. That becomes dangerous when alcohol enters into the mix, as it often does. I actually have a problem, though, and I need it to function.
ADD would seem an obvious choice to research for the paper that I have to do as part of the sub-I application, but it just hits a little too close to home. I decided instead to do a psychological study of someone I know.
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Subject has history of masking depressive tendencies.
They told me my first day. I was talking to the some of the nurses about my run-in with my new boss, Carter, and they said he wasn't his usual self. Everyone had noticed, but they were hoping it would pass in time.
He'd fallen hard for another one of the interns, and she'd broken his heart, then shoved his face in it by getting back together with her ex-boyfriend. Apparently, the staff chose sides quickly, and she quickly found County a very cold place to work. Not long afterwards, she transferred her residency back to her hometown.
They'd tried to cheer Carter up, but he pretended nothing was wrong. Wouldn't be fixed up on blind dates, wouldn't hang out with them like usual, worked more shifts than required. It had only been about a month since she'd left, so I thought they were rushing things, really. Everyone needs a little
time.
I wasn't sure what to think of him. The others had a high opinion of him, obviously, but I thought he was an ass. Didn't give clear instructions, talked down to me - literally -- like I was a kid, lost his temper. Things improved at the end of the day, when he thought I was able to do an IV without supervision, and I thought it best to let him go on thinking that.
Lord knows I didn't want to get back on his bad side.
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Subject is damned self-righteous.
It was a nightmare. I worked with him, then it turned out he was an RA at the dorm. Not that we really ran into each other much off-hours, but the other girls mentioned him a lot. They'd even taken to wakening him in the middle of the night, in the hopes that it might lead to something. The only thing it led to was hell for me the next day, when he was sleep deprived on top of being a miserable bastard.
We had gotten along pretty well until he found out that I couldn't start an IV. I ran out of a trauma, and made him look bad. Eventually he forgave me for that, but when - as he saw it - I got him fired from his RA job, it was the last straw. Thank God at that point I only had to deal with him at work. I tried everything to make it up to him, even attempting to meet with the Dean and accept blame, but it wasn't enough. He wouldn't even consider the fact that he'd dodged the responsibility. So what if I was drunk? I wasn't the one being paid to keep an eye on things. He was.
It was going to be a long ER rotation.
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Subject has history of defensive actions.
He blamed me for everything. Everything, even not job related. He was late once for a date with his precious Roxanne (what a bitch -- everyone said so), it was my fault for screwing up something and making him stay late. As far as I was concerned, they deserved each other, but the others still said Carter deserved better. I didn't see evidence of that.
Finally, I decided to try a last-ditch attempt to clear the air. He had been furious with me for ages, since I showed him up in a trauma, and the attendings had accused him of not teaching me properly. I thought if we could sit down, calmly, and discuss our problems with each other's approach, it would be so much easier to work together. Unfortunately, Carter found my notes that I'd been making as a sort of rehearsal, and hit the roof, after having promptly jumped to the wrong conclusion - that I was getting ready to turn in a bad evaluation of him. The situation went from bad to worse, which I hadn't thought possible. He even refused to talk to me on some days.
Things eventually took a big step in the right direction, after a long day of sniping on both our parts. We each went looking for the father of an injured girl, and had a horrible day which turned into a horrible night. But we had the horrible night together, and understood each other so much better afterwards. I finally realized that he was, after so long in the role of student, having difficulty handling authority. For his part, he realized that I was having trouble with being the one in the room who knew the least, after so many years of the opposite being true.
We talked a long time on the roof that night, after returning to the hospital, and said things that should have been said months before. I'm defensive, too, I have to admit. Wouldn't this ER rotation have been easier if I'd realized that earlier?
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Subject's flirtatious behavior masks low self-esteem
He only wants what he can't have. Dale Edson asked me out, after Carter basically dumped me for the evening at the command of Roxanne, and Carter suddenly starts cautioning me - reminding me of my obligations at work. Dale told me that Carter had basically told him to keep his hands off me. Interesting. I thought I'd imagined that he was a little more than friendly. We had a "moment" after I found out the results of the HIV test. He'd been so protective while I was waiting to find out, so reassuring. I assume he thought we were getting a little close, and he made the excuse of prior plans with Roxanne to dodge out of our planned study evening.
I felt him out, so to speak, the next day. Of course Dale didn't get to lay a finger on me. Everyone says he's a weasel, and they're right. No reason to let Carter think that I know that, though. Time for a little old-fashioned game-playing. He hated it when I said - lying - that I'd had a great time, that we didn't get back until late. I could tell. That jaw-clench, eyes narrowed. I was practically gleeful the rest of the day, knowing that I'd inspired that reaction.
Why should he be so insecure, that he goes running when Roxanne crooks her finger, that he suddenly acts jealous when Dale expresses interest in me? The guy's gorgeous, can he not see that? Maybe he can't see that other people see that. Who knows?
I see it.
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Subject finds risk-taking behavior difficult to reconcile with responsible position.
It wasn't how I'd wanted it to be. It was frenzied, hungry, yes...but it was also rushed, and ended up with us sneaking off afterwards like kids. Sneaking off without having what I knew we both wanted. I decided to hang on to the good moments, and the sensations. His ass had felt firm under my hands, his lips felt hot against my neck, his hands - with their slightly rough skin, yet gentle touch - somehow exactly right against my breasts. And as I replayed the scene later in my mind, I changed the details. He didn't stop me after I unzipped his pants, he urged me on instead. He didn't gently remove my hand from his penis; he frantically pulled me closer, tangled his hands in my hair.
"Lucy? We...need to talk. Can we go somewhere?" Carter's voice snapped me out of my reverie.
You bet that gorgeous ass we can go somewhere. "We could go to the dorm. My roommate leaves at 6:30." And if she doesn't, she dies. Dies. Horribly.
"The dorm." A grimace, so that option wasn't to his satisfaction. Damn him anyway. He'd stopped us earlier, just when things were getting going, and now he was being fussy about the location. I assumed - hoped he didn't really mean "talk".
"How about your place, then?" Obviously the exam rooms were out for a repeat performance. Not that I'd care. Hell, I'd even let Weaver watch at this point.
"Weaver's house. You see, this is the problem. You're a student, and I'm a resident..." He was pontificating again.
"So you've said." So you've said a hundred times, you idiot. You think I don't know that already? Christ. I was ready to strangle him. We continued in that vein for several minutes, during which he informed me that it would be "the best for everyone concerned" if we didn't...well, if we didn't.
Did he want me to convince him otherwise?
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Subject reports difficulty with impulse control.
Still inwardly fuming about Carter's dismissal of me, I was glad to find my roommate actually gone when I arrived back at the dorm. So she wouldn't have been there after all. Not that it mattered now. Bernard called me to tease me about the rumors going around the hospital, and I hung up on him. When there was a knock at my door a couple of minutes later, I threw it open, and was ready to knock him over if he didn't shut up about it. Only it wasn't Bernard.
"I umm...you...said your roommate was out?" Carter stood in the doorway, his voice quiet, his eyes twinkling.
"What brings you here?" I was going to play it cool, after having practically begged him earlier. No way was I doing that again. Well, I would under the right circumstances.
"I had this urge to see you." He was looking around, clearly nervous. Who did he expect to see in the hallway at seven a.m., anyway? I wasn't going to make it easy for him.
"Urge?" I asked, amused at his choice of words. "It couldn't wait until tomorrow?"
"No. Now."
I stepped aside to let him into the room, and closed and locked the door. Then...everything. No interruptions, no pages, no knocks at the door - not that we would have cared. We were a tangle of arms and legs, mouths, of frantically shed clothes.
I finally had his hands on my bare skin, finally tasted him under my tongue. My mouth closed around him.
"Wait."
Oh, God. Wait? My mind was whirling, but one thought shone through clearly: if he went into the "you're a student" crap again, I'd tear him apart. Somehow, though, I kept my voice calm. "What is it?"
"Take your hair down for me," he whispered.
I took my hair down, wanting him to knot his fingers in it, pulling me closer. I wanted everything, all at once. I wanted to hear his voice begging me for more, wanted to feel him inside me, wanted to taste him inside my mouth, wanted to feel his skin against mine.
Part of me, though, wanted him to command me, to possess me, to carry on the role of my boss. I have to admit it. I was conflicted between wanting him beneath me and wanting him to brand me as his. I just hoped this wouldn't be the only time. I wanted to have the chance to be both possessed and possessor.
He lay back against my pillow, staring at me. Then he smiled and I felt my insides melt. I had never let myself realize just how wonderful Carter's smiles were. I knew, there was no doubt about that. How could any woman be around him and not realize how devastating his smiles were? But, I had not allowed myself to acknowledge their power. If I did that, then I would be running around the emergency room trying my best to make him smile.
"This is wrong," he finally said.
Jesus give me mercy! I knew I would kill him. "I'm Benton's student now, not yours."
He shook his head. "Roxanne."
That bitch. Why did she always have to get in the way? This was not the time for Carter to be having second thoughts. We were in my room, alone and naked on my bed. I straddled his legs, unwilling to move. I had no intention of giving him up just because he felt guilty about being with me. He didn't love Roxanne. There was no way possible that he loved her. And it sure as Hell wasn't possible that she loved him. To her, he was nothing more than a handsome adornment, something to show off. Someone to use.
"Roxanne's not here," I whispered.
"I shouldn't be here, either."
"Do you love her?"
That question took him aback. His eyes turned serious as he contemplated the question. I took full advantage of the lull in the conversation and let my fingers do some walking up his thigh, and he sighed deeply.
"No."
"Then what's the problem?" I bent my head lower and tasted him again, my heart beating fast and hard as I waited for his reaction. It was now or never, I thought. Either I had him or he was going to walk. I didn't want him to walk.
"I don't cheat," he whispered, but made no effort to move my head. That had to be a good sign. He whimpered a little as I continued for a few moments, then lay beside him.
"It's not cheating if you're ending the relationship." Did I just issue him an ultimatum? He hadn't talked about ending things with Roxanne, and it may not have even occurred to him.
He moved to cover my body with his. "Okay," he murmured, and kissed me gently.
Okay? I had him.