Disclaimer: Do not own, do not sue.
Summary: Season 10, episode 1. He returned expecting to pick things up where he left off, only discover a broken woman in her place. She is dependant on only one thing now. Pain.
Notes: So I thought that I would backtrack a season. This is basically what I think Carter and Abby were feeling when Carter came back from the Congo. It may be a little fragmented, but hopefully it's understandable. Read it and tell me what you think! Love it? Hate it? All comments are welcome!
Rating: PG 13, I might change it later if I decide to add more to it. This rating is just to be safe though.
Broken
He had intended to go home immediately. It was late, he knew, but there was something he needed to do before he went home, someone he needed to see. The pavement was slick with rain as it poured down ceaselessly. He felt heaviness in his heart, although he did not know why. It was as if he knew something terrible would happen, although he refused to let himself believe it. The yellow cab pulled up to a small townhouse, and he hesitated before opening the door. Inside the house, it was dark. He was careful not to make too much noise as he closed the door behind him. He placed his bag at the entrance.
He knew his way around well enough, even though it had been a while since he had last been there. He walked into the bedroom. There she was. She was beautiful. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She looked so peaceful. He leaned down and kissed her softly on her forehead. God, he had missed her. She awoke, a confused expression on her face that turned to pain when she saw him standing there. "Hi," he whispered.
She shifted to an upright position, "Hi," she whispered back. She was frowning, and he felt a sudden tightness in his chest. She looked around the room, confused, "When did you get back?"
"Just now," he replied.
She shuffled around in her bedside table and pulled out a carton of cigarettes. She opened the box and pulled one out, "It's three o'clock in the morning."
He began to feel uneasy, "My flight from Monday was delayed." She had aged since he had last seen her. Not physically, but something in her eyes made her seem much older. "I missed you." He reassured her.
She looked at him, her eyes were a window into her soul and he could see how bruised she was. As if realizing that she was letting him see too much of what she had buried deep inside, she looked away. "Did you just let yourself in?"
It was at that moment when he realized just how much he had hurt her. He blinked twice, "I'm sorry about how I left."
Her expression was that of pure sadness. She looked at him, straight in the eyes and said, "Can I have my key back, please?"
He then knew that the damage he had caused her in his absence ultimately broke her. He sighed, took the key out of his pocket, stood up angrily and dropped it in the bowl beside the door. He picked up his bag and he shut the door, this time not quite as quietly as before.
She had never felt so betrayed by any man in her life. She had loved him. She still did, but the pain he had caused her was irreparable. She swallowed the lump that had been forming in her throat and tears filled her eyes. He looked good. She had missed him. She loved him, yet she hated him more than anything else in the world at that moment. How dare he leave without so much as a goodbye and then expect everything to go back to the way it was. It could never go back to the way it was. A sob escaped her. She had promised herself that she would not cry over him anymore. It angered her that she could not keep this simple promise to herself. Her shoulders heaved, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming in frustration. She could taste the blood. She bit harder, relishing the pain. Pain was what she used to get by these days. It was like an addiction. She knew that if she experienced even a mere millisecond of happiness, pain would be sure to follow, every time more potently then the last.
As soon as he had slammed the door he regretted it. He had not meant to hurt her. The way she had looked at him killed him. He turned around, ready to go back in and apologize. Apologize for the way he had left, apologize for hurting her, and apologize for making her lose faith in the world, to lose faith in them. Just as he was about to re-enter the house, he remembered her eyes. The eyes that were so full of the emotion she tried so hard to hide. When he had left, he had left a beautiful, vibrant woman behind, nad now all that remained of her was an empty shell. He thought that maybe she would be all right after the initial shock of his return. He thought that maybe if he just gave her some time, she would come back to him. He sat on the steps of the small townhouse and buried his face in his hands. He would never forgive himself for hurting her. He would never intentionally hurt her. He hoped that she understood this. There were just far too many things that he felt he needed to do. By leaving, however, he realized how much he needed her. Every moment of every day, he thought of her. He wondered if she knew that. She could not truly believe that he had left in spite of her. Then again, the look in her eyes had told him everything that she had wanted to say to him but could not. I hate you, you bastard! You never loved me. You never wanted me. You killed me. I am dead. I am broken. You promised me that you would be here for me. You lie. You took my life away. Look at me! I'm damaged. I'm battered. I'm bruised. The words unsaid haunted him. The grief he felt was unbearable. He had to leave that house. He had to leave behind the one thing in this world that he truly loved, because he loved her. He could cause her no more pain now. He bore a heavy load of sorrow on his shoulders. Perhaps one day they would be able to make amends. It would take a lot of healing, this much he knew, but he refused to give upon her. He would not give up.