That's his first thought when he comes to, and honestly, Chicago had been expecting the flurries for at least a day, so the thick white coat doesn't come as a surprise to Carter. Next he thinks when did I go outside? That in itself isn't too strange either. He's been on since yesterday morning and he knows that with the 48 hour mark, sometimes your brain just switched to autopilot until you found yourself in the cafeteria or in the ambulance bay for some fresh air.
Speaking of which - man, it's cold. The snow and wind prickle on his skin and he shivers in his blue scrubs. Should have taken his jacket. He sighs, squeezes his eyes shut, rubs at his face, shakes his head with a puff of breath. Maybe they'd get snowed in, maybe it would slow things down in the ER and he'd be able to actually lie down for a couple of hours.
But when he opens them again, he's slowly becoming aware that this isn't the ambulance bay. It's so quiet. No honking cars, no rattle from the L, nothing of the usual humming and drumming of the city. In fact, it's some kind of park or forest and he turns in a confused circle, looking around.]
What the...? No. No, no, nonono...
[There's something viscerally terrifying in the disorientation and his eyes widen with a sudden flash of adrenaline. Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is he having a nervous breakdown from the stress? He so does not have time for any of these right now. There are rounds at seven and he still needs to finish a pile of charts and prepare Dr. Benton's slides for the presentation and if he doesn't get it done the surgeon is going to rip his head clean off--]
... Okay. Don't panic, there's no reason to, to panic. It's just sleep deprivation, I'm asleep. Of course I'm asleep which means I'm on to me which means I can wake up now.
[He starts slapping his face with his open palms while he makes his way through the snow.]
Any moment now. Any moment.
ii. bodies without souls
[Houses! Other people! Figures behind the windows! Finally!
After a brief (so, so brief) moment of relief and excitement, Carter quickly makes his way inside only to find the store empty. Oh, come on! He actually ends up doing a bit of a silly dance, running back and forth and trying to catch whoever is out there - in there? - out there? - in action but of course, nothing comes of it.
Eventually he stares through the window and the very unhelpful apparitions outside. Then he leans back, a strangled noise of annoyance emerging from the back of his throat, the back of his head hitting the wall behind him. Thud. Thud. THUD.]
Great. Losing my mind. That's just, sure. That's fantastic.
[He wanders the shelves, rubbing his arms and puffing in an attempt to warm up. He inspects some of the books - but coming in straight from 1996, the selection doesn't strike him as odd. Instead, he keeps muttering under his breath.]
Ohh, I'm a dead man. Probably wandered off. Yep, wandered right off, out the door, just like that, all the way to the outskirts. Psych evaluation, termination of internship, unfit for the high stress environment of the job, that's, that's a career down the drain. ... And now I'm talking. Talking to myself. Out loud.
[In a fit of exasperation he stops and spreads his arms wide, yelling at the ceiling.]
Can I at least hallucinate another person!
iii. the end approaches
[Bulletin board. That's a familiar sight and some of the notes look recent. Carter laughs, a little high-strung, relieved that he isn't alone but also thoroughly freaked out at this point. And the ominous red writing isn't helping. At all?
He scratches the back of his head, then he picks up a piece of paper and scribbles a small, almost shy WHO? that he tacks next to the red writing. Maybe whoever put up the warning cares to elaborate?
Then he takes another piece of paper.]
are there I am a doctor.
[Wow. That's so stupid. He stares at it, crumples it up, tries again.]
My name is John Carter. I am a doctor. Are there other doctors here? I want to help.
John Carter | ER
[It started snowing.
That's his first thought when he comes to, and honestly, Chicago had been expecting the flurries for at least a day, so the thick white coat doesn't come as a surprise to Carter. Next he thinks when did I go outside? That in itself isn't too strange either. He's been on since yesterday morning and he knows that with the 48 hour mark, sometimes your brain just switched to autopilot until you found yourself in the cafeteria or in the ambulance bay for some fresh air.
Speaking of which - man, it's cold. The snow and wind prickle on his skin and he shivers in his blue scrubs. Should have taken his jacket. He sighs, squeezes his eyes shut, rubs at his face, shakes his head with a puff of breath. Maybe they'd get snowed in, maybe it would slow things down in the ER and he'd be able to actually lie down for a couple of hours.
But when he opens them again, he's slowly becoming aware that this isn't the ambulance bay. It's so quiet. No honking cars, no rattle from the L, nothing of the usual humming and drumming of the city. In fact, it's some kind of park or forest and he turns in a confused circle, looking around.]
What the...? No. No, no, nonono...
[There's something viscerally terrifying in the disorientation and his eyes widen with a sudden flash of adrenaline. Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is he having a nervous breakdown from the stress? He so does not have time for any of these right now. There are rounds at seven and he still needs to finish a pile of charts and prepare Dr. Benton's slides for the presentation and if he doesn't get it done the surgeon is going to rip his head clean off--]
... Okay. Don't panic, there's no reason to, to panic. It's just sleep deprivation, I'm asleep. Of course I'm asleep which means I'm on to me which means I can wake up now.
[He starts slapping his face with his open palms while he makes his way through the snow.]
Any moment now. Any moment.
ii. bodies without souls
[Houses! Other people! Figures behind the windows! Finally!
After a brief (so, so brief) moment of relief and excitement, Carter quickly makes his way inside only to find the store empty. Oh, come on! He actually ends up doing a bit of a silly dance, running back and forth and trying to catch whoever is out there - in there? - out there? - in action but of course, nothing comes of it.
Eventually he stares through the window and the very unhelpful apparitions outside. Then he leans back, a strangled noise of annoyance emerging from the back of his throat, the back of his head hitting the wall behind him. Thud. Thud. THUD.]
Great. Losing my mind. That's just, sure. That's fantastic.
[He wanders the shelves, rubbing his arms and puffing in an attempt to warm up. He inspects some of the books - but coming in straight from 1996, the selection doesn't strike him as odd. Instead, he keeps muttering under his breath.]
Ohh, I'm a dead man. Probably wandered off. Yep, wandered right off, out the door, just like that, all the way to the outskirts. Psych evaluation, termination of internship, unfit for the high stress environment of the job, that's, that's a career down the drain. ... And now I'm talking. Talking to myself. Out loud.
[In a fit of exasperation he stops and spreads his arms wide, yelling at the ceiling.]
Can I at least hallucinate another person!
iii. the end approaches
[Bulletin board. That's a familiar sight and some of the notes look recent. Carter laughs, a little high-strung, relieved that he isn't alone but also thoroughly freaked out at this point. And the ominous red writing isn't helping. At all?
He scratches the back of his head, then he picks up a piece of paper and scribbles a small, almost shy WHO? that he tacks next to the red writing. Maybe whoever put up the warning cares to elaborate?
Then he takes another piece of paper.]
are thereI am a doctor.[Wow. That's so stupid. He stares at it, crumples it up, tries again.]
My name is John Carter. I am a doctor. Are there other doctors here? I want to help.