Back Again by Rosa17
Rating: General
Genre: Drama/Romance
Author's Note and summary: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed Alone, I am still not sure whether I will write Carter's POV or not.
Anyway back to this short story, I was watching a music channel the other day and they played Babe by Take That, (a blast from the past) which got me thinking about writing a Carby song fic and here it is. It's short and sweet and follows the ER storyline up to When Night meets day and takes place a couple of years later and is in the point of view of Carter. And I am the first to admit that it might be too fuzzy and soppy in places, but I just needed a bit of Carby fuzz.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters etc.
Babe written by Gary Barlow
I come to your door to see you again
It's been a while a couple of years, to be precise two years, eight months and sixteen days. I've changed and I bet that she has too. I've seen things that I wished I hadn't, that I wished I could have fixed. But you can't fix everything and I know now that I could never fix her, she had to want to fix herself, for her. But I can't stay away, never have been able to. She's there constantly all through my life in the Congo, she's been there with me, even though she was only in my mind, my memory, and most importantly, my heart.
In a way it's unbelievable that the first place I come when I get off the plane is here. Her apartment building. I haven't heard or spoken to her in all this time and yet I am drawn by some invisible force. I sent Christmas presents to everyone at County including her, but still I haven't heard from her at all. Surely she's not still mad with me, with the way I left. I had to leave get away from all the madness here, only to find however a different kind of madness there and so now I stand before the door and I hesitate just a moment before ringing the buzzer.
But where you once stood was an old man instead
An old man stood where I expected Abby to be he was wrinkled and gnarled with age and time.
"I'm looking for Abby Lockhart" I say
"She doesn't live here no more" the man answered, but I had kind of figured that out for myself.
"Did she leave a forwarding address?" I found myself asking him.
The old man grunted and said "Wait here a minute" and he trundled off into the apartment.
I asked where you be, he said "She's moved on you see
All I have is a number you'd better ask her not me"
He came back with a tattered piece of paper that was scrunched up into an odd shape.
"Here" the man said and thrust it into my hand and shut the door in my face
I stood there for what seemed a while before carefully opening out the precious piece of paper. On it were the words Abby Lockhart and a telephone number, I didn't recognise the code.
I walked back to the street and hailed myself a cab and went home. To my surprise Harris the butler was still there and ushered me in warmly talking to me as if he has only seen me that morning and was anticipating my return. In fact no one was awaiting my return at all.
The house was cold, dark and dust sheets covered much of the furniture. It seemed dead just like my Grandmother and I made a mental note to visit her grave sometime soon and apologise for leaving everything in such a mess like I did.
I sit in the kitchen and drink a coffee mulling over what I might say to her when I call. The piece of paper is getting tattier by the second as I roll it around my fingers, the numbers staring back at me as if to say "Call me, call me"
I stand in the shower and let the hot water cascade over my tired body, but I know I won't sleep until I've called her. Heard her voice on the line call me "John". I rinse the soap off and turn off the shower faucet, wrapping myself in the softest towel I have used for years and dry myself off before donning a robe.
I sit tentatively on the edge of the bed looking intently at the phone and then the number beside it. Gingerly I pick up the handset and dial the number.
So I picked up the phone and dialled your number
Not sure to put it down or speak
The phone rang with each ring I could hardly breathe, my chest contracted and I felt as if it would burst, but of course it didn't. Should I hang up should I wait I did not know what to do for the best.
The I voice I once knew answered in a sweet voice
She said hello then paused before I began to speak
There was the click from the phone and then her voice filtered down the line. It sounded just like I remembered. Just like I knew it would when I played conversations we once had back over in my mind.
"Hello" she said softly, quietly
I took a deep breath before I spoke.
Babe I'm here again, I tell you I'm here again
Where have you been?
Babe, I'm back again, I tell you I'm back again
Where have you been?
"Abby, it's John. Carter" my first words came out croakily and I inwardly cringed.
"John" she whispered and I heard her surprised intake of breath and couldn't blame her at all.
"I'm back" I tell her "In Chicago. Tonight in fact. I went by your apartment but this old guy said you'd moved and gave me your number."
I paused, this was more difficult that I imagined, taking another deep breath I continued. "I wondered if I could see you. If we could meet up. I need to talk, say things that were never said. I can't do it over the phone Abby. We need to meet face to face"
You held you voice well, there were tears I could tell
But where were you now? Were you gonna tell me in time?
Just give me a town and I'll be straight down
Got so much to tell you about where I have been
I paused again not knowing what her reaction might be when suddenly she replied "I'll give you the address you can pop by if you're passing this way sometime"
She seemed cautious and slightly cagey but more receptive than I thought she'd be.
"There's something I need to tell you too" she continued.
I was extremely surprised when she told me she was living in Albany. In fact words could not describe the shock. The shock that she was so far away. The shock that she was no longer at County. I then imagined her Christmas presents hiding somewhere under the counter forgotten.
After I hung up I immediately called to find out the next available flight to Albany. I managed to get one for the next evening. I hadn't imagined flying again so soon. I was still jet lagged from my flight earlier.
I closed my eyes on the flight to Albany, the man beside me seemed inclined to talk and I just was not in the right frame of mind for idle chitter chatter with some fellow traveller. I had to take time to compose myself. Time to figure out what I was going to say to her. I did have it all planned out but things had changed in the last 24 hours since I had arrived back in Chicago, but now I was in Chicago no longer flying eastwards to Abby.
As I walk down your road, can't wait to be near you
Can't keep the feeling inside
I'm walking down the road; I feel a mixture of things. I feel nervous, excited, apprehensive, happy, worried all at the same time. And it all makes me smile. A man passing in the opposite direction gives me a look, a look which says he thinks I've lost the plot, but I don't care. I am nearly back where I want to be. With Abby. I just hope it's not too late.
As I stand at your door you answer in a sweet voice
I raise my hand and knock on the door. Soon I hear footsteps coming nearer and nearer and finally opening the door and then we stand face to face. The first thing I notice is that her hair has gone back to its natural colour again, a rich dark brown and it frames her face gently. She smiles hesitantly and I can feel myself returning the smile.
"Hello" she says to me
You said hello then pause before I begin to speak
Babe I'm here again, I tell you I'm here again
Where have you been?
Babe, I'm back again, I tell you I'm back again
Where have you been?
I find myself waffling on about just getting back from the Congo yesterday and that I'm back to stay. That I have fulfilled my need to help in a third world war torn, poverty stricken country. Where I have done so much but it has had so little affect on the whole situation over there. I explain that I felt it was time to come home. I stand there in the doorway and tell her I have often thought about her and she stands and listens.
Just as I looked away, I saw a face behind you
A little boy stood at your door
I don't know what it was but suddenly I felt as thought it wasn't just Abby and I standing there at her front door with the cold north wind blowing into the apartment. I feel compelled to look down and there clinging on to Abby's jeans is a small boy, of about, I have to guess here between 16 to 20 months of age. My gaze goes immediately to Abby eyes, they are watering and I ask myself why as I look once more at the boy. I am beginning to wonder if I did the right thing coming here. I suddenly have a feeling of dread that she is with someone else, that I left it too late to tell her how I feel how I have always felt.
And as I looked again I saw his face was shining
He had my eyes, he had my smile
I couldn't believe it when my eyes focused properly on him again. In his face I could see mine. He had my eyes, my smile and then when I saw these things I noticed how like Abby he was too. The shape of his face, his nose were exactly like hers.
Confused I met her gaze once more and this time I could see for certain that she was trying to block the tears from falling. I knew as she beckoned me in and shut the door behind me that we had a lot to talk through, a lot to sort out but I also knew that it was the beginning for me and Abby and our son, together.
The End