A/N: Last time I checked, I owned nothing...I better check again!
A/N: None of you, except for two very important people, know how much time, work, and effort went into this piece to make it possible. For all of the late night chats, the revisions, and the timelines, I'm pleased to say we finally have a finished project! So Bel Vezer...You are, as you say, the sperm for this story. Thanks for all the work you put in, and for your brilliant idea! And Pandorama, my lovely beta, thanks for jumping in like you did. I hope you enjoy the ride!
It's one of those things that she could never understand. It's that feeling one gets when they know someone has just entered the room, but they're too out of it to have it register at first. It takes awhile, but then they feel their reality separate from their dreams, and they come to terms with it.
At first, she thought it was the rain. It was the first thing she heard as her ears began preparing themselves for the reality that was about to find them. It danced for her on the window, its pizzicato kissing the damp sill. Slowly, she felt herself regaining consciousness. It was then that she became aware of the heavy weight at the end of her bed.
Was that…Carter?
"Hi," he whispered.
She blinked several times, thinking that maybe this was still a dream. Shock clouded her mind, though the occasional how, why, and when? sometimes broke through. She was shocked into silence. Her mouth felt paralyzed. She couldn't think…Say something!
"Hi," she whispered back. She then realized how naked she felt, which was odd, since she usually wouldn't have minded around Carter. But somehow…now…it just felt…improper…indecent. Abby pulled herself into a more dignified position and Carter shifted his position on the bed as she squirmed.
What am I supposed to say to him? Her insides were waging their own war while the clouds still covered her mind. Half of her wanted to scream and throw things at him, but the other half was too afraid to speak. Abby wasn't sure she trusted her own voice.
"When did you get back?" Innocent enough.
"Just now," he answered, not missing a beat.
She surveyed him closely through tired eyes. He looked as tired as she felt. Judging by his red eyes, Abby had no choice but to take him at his word. She supposed that was a good thing, it meant he was at least thinking about her, right? Somehow she just couldn't convince herself of that - that it was a good thing, or that he was thinking about her.
Unless he thought of it as his duty. They were, after all, a couple, together, though by which dictionary's definition, Abby wasn't quite sure. She was pretty sure the feelings of betrayal and hurt she felt now were not included in the standard package.
She became uncomfortably aware of her silence again. Carter was looking at her expectantly, waiting like the gentleman he wasn't for her to make the first move. "It's 5:30 in the morning," Abby said testily. She wasn't pleased with his act. Far from winning her over, it was only making her more nervous, more uncertain. She didn't want him to act like he was so sweet, like he hadn't been a jerk for leaving her. She didn't want him to act like he was begging forgiveness. She didn't want him to say he knew what he had done was wrong, because they were useless words, empty words, coming from him. He was only telling her what she wanted to hear, what he thought would win her smile…Abby became aware of the silence again.
To buy herself time, she reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She didn't want the cigarette, she only wanted the excuse.
Although he was standing in her bedroom, there might as well have been an ocean still between them. Carter wanted her to take the lead on this one. He needed her to make the first move. Abby twirled the cigarette in her fingers, cursing her desire for the terrible addiction.
"My flight from London was delayed."
Carter had spoken again, had noticed the awkward silence and was now trying to be bold and step forward. Abby still couldn't say anything. Time seemed to be passing at half the normal rate. She wished he would just leave.
What was she supposed to say anyway? How could he even think it could be that simple, that his mere presence would bend her, as though she were his creation to mold. He came there expecting to find that nothing had changed, or that she could drop everything and fall back into his arms, into his poisonous love. Abby felt the beginnings of anger fight their way to the back of her throat.
How she wished she could open her mouth and scream at him! How she wanted to yell at him, make him feel the way she felt, make him see what had really happened. Abby wanted to scream at him until her lungs could scream no more, she wanted to make him understand.
But she knew, deep down, that would never happen. For all she wanted to say, she knew it would be only lost in translation, from her mouth to him. It would be twisted, distorted, to where it would be no longer recognizable. Carter would never understand. He could never understand.
And so, she had nothing to say. She just wanted him to leave.
"I missed you."
Abby wondered if he meant her or the sex.
I missed you…That was Carter's desperate way of trying to get her to respond, to play his game. He wanted to win her over, to take her back. He was trying to appeal to her compassion, since he had nothing left to appeal to. Abby almost laughed. She could see right through his façade.
"Did you just let yourself in?"
Carter was taken aback. He just blinked. He hesitated; Abby could see he was catching onto her anger. She felt secretly pleased by throwing him off guard. That's right, she thought, I'm not playing games.
"I'm sorry about how I left," he offered.
Are you? Abby wondered. She felt anger flare inside of her. How dare he apologize! She knew it seemed irrational to not accept his apology, but she couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand how he could flounce into her room at this indecent hour and apologize, as though he were the good guy. An apology made him seem kinder, more compassionate, which was ironic, since what he was apologizing for was an action that defined him as just the opposite.
"Can I have my key back, please?"
It was cold and she knew it, but he had hurt her more than he knew.
He was still sitting there in stunned, hurt silence. Abby ignored this and lit the cigarette, looking away from him with an almost inhumane frigidity. Carter finally got the idea and reached slowly into his pocket, extracting the key. He held it out for her to see, shaking it slightly. Abby gave a slight nod in recognition and then averted her gaze.
Abby felt the weight lift from her bed as Carter stood up. He walked quickly to the door, throwing the key onto the table as he went. Abby heard the door slam just as the first tear slipped down her cheek. She slumped back against her pillows again, listening to the rain outside. It was early, but Abby was too angry to go back to sleep. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up. She shivered as the cold apartment air wrapped its icy fingers around her skin. She scampered into her closet, pulling a robe over her bare shoulders. Abby bit her lip and wondered what to do next.