Author's Notes: Another one of my random Stand-alones. I dont' know where these things come from. Just read and review please :-) Thank you!
~*~
The rain pattered against the window as he struggled to understand who she was, and what she has been through. He had always known her as the strong, determined, beautiful nurse that controlled his every movement. But now after all they had to say to each other had passed, he was miserably alone, and no centimeter deeper in understanding her. She was a maze that no one escaped, hiding something behind every corner. He yearned to know what made her keep living; she was far from ideal. Yet he was still drawn to her, and mesmerized by her. Her subtle gentleness and compassion. She was the type of person you could know for your whole life, but never understand what she really was made of. He shifted his coat tighter around himself as he proceeded out the walkway towards the train. The weather had been less than merciful, spring storms shaking the city every few days.
The streets were mildly flooded with stream of acidic rain. He plopped through the puddles, avoiding any deep ones, enjoying the spaciousness. No one wanted to be out of the house in this weather. He was on call; and had been called in. No one wanted to be out of the house in this weather. Especially him; he had no choice. The train pulled up in its meticulous pattern, the doors opening and closing upon instruction. The mechanical voice over the speak system, announcing each stop precisely. He watched the buildings pass, the lights turn on and off, and the rain hit the plastic windows. It was almost relaxing; yet he knew he would have to get off and face the evils of the world beyond. He approached his stop, the Medical Center. He got off and walked in the shielded passway until it ended, the rain began to pelt him down, flowing down his back and soaking his shirt. He ran for cover under the wide roof, but it was too late. He was soaked to the core. He shook off what little water he could from his face and jacket before entering through the doors. He put his wet coat out on a chair in the lounge, running a towel through his wet hair.
Finally he pulled himself together, feeling more like a human being rather than a soaking animal. He walked into the waiting area, but it was plainly deserted. He wondered why he had been called in, maybe they were preparing for a large trauma due to the catastrophic weather. He didn't know. Yet something caught his eye in the corner of the room, a little girl, she looked no more than eight. She was sitting, holding presumably her sleeping little brother in her arms. She rocked him back and forth. She looked like a mother bird protecting her babes. He walked over to the child, she was alone for the most part; sectioned off into the dark corner of the room, as if she was hiding. She put on a brave face, but he could see her pout underneath. Her dark blonde hair fell in front of her face, and she quickly pushed it out of the way.
"Hi. Are you okay?"
He states it plainly, he needs to feel her out. How should he react to this little surprise in the middle of the evening. He watches her pull her brother close to her, her protective grasp on him never ceasing. She sits up straighter, probably wishing she was older, taller, stronger.
"Yes. We're just waiting for my mom."
He nods his head understandingly. He doesn't know where she's from, or who her mother might be. Her father could be in the bathroom right now. The best thing to do would be to leave her alone, but something about her pleading blue eyes pulls him closer to her. He can't walk away from her, even though he may try.
"Is your dad here?"
The little girl shakes her head slowly, as if dismissing the question. She has a mature aura around her, she probably has seen more than she should have.
"Do you want me to call him?"
She shakes her head again, refusing to meet his gaze. He quickly runs his hand through his hair, taking a seat across from him. He's lost for a course of action. Throw him into a trauma with a patient that is on the brink of death, and he'll know what to do. Right now he was clueless.
"Mom said he left us because he didn't want us."
He bit his tongue. What kind of mother would tell her children that? Its probably a lie she forged to make herself look better. Who knows what the truth behind this little girl's determination might be.
"What's your name?"
He asks a simple question. She looks around the room, probably looking for a way out. She's been taught well. Never talk to strangers, unless that stranger is a doctor or a police man. She takes a deep breath and regains her composure.
"Jamie."
He gives her a small smile.
"Hi Jamie. My name is Doctor Carter."
He extends his hand towards her, but she looks at it as if it were evil or cursed. The barriers and walls she has put up to protect herself from being hurt by strangers are evident. She is fighting for a way to show her strength, but underneath it all, she wants to be a kid.
"Do you want me to find out how your mom's doing?"
She nods her head, and her hold on her brother ceases for a moment. She looks tired and stressed, much more than a little girl at this age should be handling. He suddenly wish he knew more. He wish he could have her tell him everything that's going on, and that he would be able to help the both of them. They looked like they need it. Malnutrition was evident on the girl, but not on her brother. She probably took care of him, more of a mother figure than his actual mother. What kind of woman would do this to her children?
"What's your mom's name?"
She bites on her tongue before responding to him. She's probably fearful of what revealing too much might do. She probably knows the horrid truth, that DCFS could tear her broken family apart. She would be torn from the one person she loved most, and her mother would have to suffer. She was the solid ground in the family.
"Amy."
Her little voice is full of pride, her mother is the only source of strength she probably has. He slowly gets up, treading over to the board, searching for the name. Its present at the bottom of the pile, a scribbled few letters, attempted suicide: seeking psych admit. He knows that ultimately means. The children will be put into the protective care of a family member until their mother is brought under control. He walks back slowly to the girl, she looks about ready for some hopeful news. He has none to bring her.
"Your mom's sick. We're going to have to keep her here for a while."
She nods her head, probably fully aware of the situation. The fact that this isn't her first time dealing with this floods his mind. She's probably been through this several times before.
"She tried to kill herself again. I had to call 911. Josh wasn't home yet. I had to go pick him up."
The terrifying words from this little mouth hit him hard. A ton of bricks, nothing he would ever be able to understand. She was the one holding the family together, the main source of guidance for everyone. Her mother was no real mother, but a sick mind that needed to be healed.
"Do you have someone you can stay with?"
She shakes her head, making her pony tail hit her cheeks. He looks closer at her, her clothes are ratty and torn, far from being new. They look a few sizes too big, and she looks a few sizes too small. Her petite frame stands out against the yellow chair, she almost seems to sink into it. Her brother is younger, no doubt, but still bigger than her. She is barely holding on to him, but her strength persists. She is not letting him go.
"She won't stay. She never does."
He shouldn't just be sitting there, he should be calling Adele. He should be searching for a placement for this beautiful little girl and her brother. But he just sits there, stunned by the world in front of him. The little boy beings to wake and she quickly hushes him.
"We should get going. I need to make dinner for Josh."
The little girl jumps off the chair, her feet don't even reach the ground. She places a hat onto her brother's head and zips up his coat with nimble fingers. She straightens out her own outfit and pulls her hair back into a tighter ponytail. Her voice echoes a goodbye as he watches her go. He shouldn't just let her go. He should be the one that maybe changes her life for the better. Or maybe she wants this. Maybe this is the way some things were meant to me. He stood there watching the small girl lead her baby brother into a full fledged storm. She wasn't afraid. He sat down on the chair behind him and a voice called his name. His figure quickly shifted around and saw her standing there. A cup of coffee in one hand, a chart in the other.
"Hey Abby."
He suddenly understood. It was as if he had been given a portal into a new world, a new world he thought he would never understand. A way to uncover the deep depths without having to experience them firsthand. He now understood why he let the little girl be. She would become brave and strong, she would make it through and follow her dreams. She would become one of the most remarkable people ever to grace the earth. She would be an emotional mess, but she would work through it. It would all work out in the end. It only takes time.
~*~
The rain pattered against the window as he struggled to understand who she was, and what she has been through. He had always known her as the strong, determined, beautiful nurse that controlled his every movement. But now after all they had to say to each other had passed, he was miserably alone, and no centimeter deeper in understanding her. She was a maze that no one escaped, hiding something behind every corner. He yearned to know what made her keep living; she was far from ideal. Yet he was still drawn to her, and mesmerized by her. Her subtle gentleness and compassion. She was the type of person you could know for your whole life, but never understand what she really was made of. He shifted his coat tighter around himself as he proceeded out the walkway towards the train. The weather had been less than merciful, spring storms shaking the city every few days.
The streets were mildly flooded with stream of acidic rain. He plopped through the puddles, avoiding any deep ones, enjoying the spaciousness. No one wanted to be out of the house in this weather. He was on call; and had been called in. No one wanted to be out of the house in this weather. Especially him; he had no choice. The train pulled up in its meticulous pattern, the doors opening and closing upon instruction. The mechanical voice over the speak system, announcing each stop precisely. He watched the buildings pass, the lights turn on and off, and the rain hit the plastic windows. It was almost relaxing; yet he knew he would have to get off and face the evils of the world beyond. He approached his stop, the Medical Center. He got off and walked in the shielded passway until it ended, the rain began to pelt him down, flowing down his back and soaking his shirt. He ran for cover under the wide roof, but it was too late. He was soaked to the core. He shook off what little water he could from his face and jacket before entering through the doors. He put his wet coat out on a chair in the lounge, running a towel through his wet hair.
Finally he pulled himself together, feeling more like a human being rather than a soaking animal. He walked into the waiting area, but it was plainly deserted. He wondered why he had been called in, maybe they were preparing for a large trauma due to the catastrophic weather. He didn't know. Yet something caught his eye in the corner of the room, a little girl, she looked no more than eight. She was sitting, holding presumably her sleeping little brother in her arms. She rocked him back and forth. She looked like a mother bird protecting her babes. He walked over to the child, she was alone for the most part; sectioned off into the dark corner of the room, as if she was hiding. She put on a brave face, but he could see her pout underneath. Her dark blonde hair fell in front of her face, and she quickly pushed it out of the way.
"Hi. Are you okay?"
He states it plainly, he needs to feel her out. How should he react to this little surprise in the middle of the evening. He watches her pull her brother close to her, her protective grasp on him never ceasing. She sits up straighter, probably wishing she was older, taller, stronger.
"Yes. We're just waiting for my mom."
He nods his head understandingly. He doesn't know where she's from, or who her mother might be. Her father could be in the bathroom right now. The best thing to do would be to leave her alone, but something about her pleading blue eyes pulls him closer to her. He can't walk away from her, even though he may try.
"Is your dad here?"
The little girl shakes her head slowly, as if dismissing the question. She has a mature aura around her, she probably has seen more than she should have.
"Do you want me to call him?"
She shakes her head again, refusing to meet his gaze. He quickly runs his hand through his hair, taking a seat across from him. He's lost for a course of action. Throw him into a trauma with a patient that is on the brink of death, and he'll know what to do. Right now he was clueless.
"Mom said he left us because he didn't want us."
He bit his tongue. What kind of mother would tell her children that? Its probably a lie she forged to make herself look better. Who knows what the truth behind this little girl's determination might be.
"What's your name?"
He asks a simple question. She looks around the room, probably looking for a way out. She's been taught well. Never talk to strangers, unless that stranger is a doctor or a police man. She takes a deep breath and regains her composure.
"Jamie."
He gives her a small smile.
"Hi Jamie. My name is Doctor Carter."
He extends his hand towards her, but she looks at it as if it were evil or cursed. The barriers and walls she has put up to protect herself from being hurt by strangers are evident. She is fighting for a way to show her strength, but underneath it all, she wants to be a kid.
"Do you want me to find out how your mom's doing?"
She nods her head, and her hold on her brother ceases for a moment. She looks tired and stressed, much more than a little girl at this age should be handling. He suddenly wish he knew more. He wish he could have her tell him everything that's going on, and that he would be able to help the both of them. They looked like they need it. Malnutrition was evident on the girl, but not on her brother. She probably took care of him, more of a mother figure than his actual mother. What kind of woman would do this to her children?
"What's your mom's name?"
She bites on her tongue before responding to him. She's probably fearful of what revealing too much might do. She probably knows the horrid truth, that DCFS could tear her broken family apart. She would be torn from the one person she loved most, and her mother would have to suffer. She was the solid ground in the family.
"Amy."
Her little voice is full of pride, her mother is the only source of strength she probably has. He slowly gets up, treading over to the board, searching for the name. Its present at the bottom of the pile, a scribbled few letters, attempted suicide: seeking psych admit. He knows that ultimately means. The children will be put into the protective care of a family member until their mother is brought under control. He walks back slowly to the girl, she looks about ready for some hopeful news. He has none to bring her.
"Your mom's sick. We're going to have to keep her here for a while."
She nods her head, probably fully aware of the situation. The fact that this isn't her first time dealing with this floods his mind. She's probably been through this several times before.
"She tried to kill herself again. I had to call 911. Josh wasn't home yet. I had to go pick him up."
The terrifying words from this little mouth hit him hard. A ton of bricks, nothing he would ever be able to understand. She was the one holding the family together, the main source of guidance for everyone. Her mother was no real mother, but a sick mind that needed to be healed.
"Do you have someone you can stay with?"
She shakes her head, making her pony tail hit her cheeks. He looks closer at her, her clothes are ratty and torn, far from being new. They look a few sizes too big, and she looks a few sizes too small. Her petite frame stands out against the yellow chair, she almost seems to sink into it. Her brother is younger, no doubt, but still bigger than her. She is barely holding on to him, but her strength persists. She is not letting him go.
"She won't stay. She never does."
He shouldn't just be sitting there, he should be calling Adele. He should be searching for a placement for this beautiful little girl and her brother. But he just sits there, stunned by the world in front of him. The little boy beings to wake and she quickly hushes him.
"We should get going. I need to make dinner for Josh."
The little girl jumps off the chair, her feet don't even reach the ground. She places a hat onto her brother's head and zips up his coat with nimble fingers. She straightens out her own outfit and pulls her hair back into a tighter ponytail. Her voice echoes a goodbye as he watches her go. He shouldn't just let her go. He should be the one that maybe changes her life for the better. Or maybe she wants this. Maybe this is the way some things were meant to me. He stood there watching the small girl lead her baby brother into a full fledged storm. She wasn't afraid. He sat down on the chair behind him and a voice called his name. His figure quickly shifted around and saw her standing there. A cup of coffee in one hand, a chart in the other.
"Hey Abby."
He suddenly understood. It was as if he had been given a portal into a new world, a new world he thought he would never understand. A way to uncover the deep depths without having to experience them firsthand. He now understood why he let the little girl be. She would become brave and strong, she would make it through and follow her dreams. She would become one of the most remarkable people ever to grace the earth. She would be an emotional mess, but she would work through it. It would all work out in the end. It only takes time.