A basketball game is playing on the TV in the lounge when Benton strolls in, whistling. He settles down at a table in front of it with his chart and a cup of coffee. Carter meekly enters and glances at the TV. He then looks at Benton, expectantly. Benton looks back at him, but says nothing. Carter raises his eyebrows slightly and rocks on his heels, as if to say, "So that's how it's going to be." Yes, Carter, Benton is a bitch, like everyone else who works at this hospital is now, and like you'll be in juuuuust a few years. Carter glances back at the TV and then jerks a thumb at it, asking Benton what the score is. "DePaul is down," Benton tells him curtly, before conciliating, "You okay?" Carter firmly says that he is. Benton mutters, "Good. Don't worry about what happened out there. Just don't make a habit of it." Carter smiles, "Okay." He wanders out, looking either amused or relieved. Once he's gone, Benton smiles and sort of snorts to himself.