Disclaimer: They're not mine... they're each others :)

Thanks to: Tracey for beta-ing, Noods for battling out a title with me ;) and Maura for inspiring me with her little "earthquake" story on Ellen

Set: S10 immediately after Abby has handed over a dying baby Jake to his parents.

Summary: Butterflies awaken in her stomach upon his caress. Butterflies she swept up in a net months ago and pinned to a page of the past. His thumb lingers.

At Liberty

"Do you ever think you'd rather be with me instead?

Or do you only think about me when it rains?"

Breathe.

A vice like grip encircles her chest, pounds of pressure compressing her lungs to the size of baseballs. She blinks, sees his face engraved on her eyelids. His fragile fingers, ruby lips, porcelain skin.

Breathe.

Salty tears sting as they meander across her flushed cheeks. He was a baby, just an innocent baby.

Breathe.

Lead legs pound the tiled floor as she races toward the exit. Feels her ribs will splinter into a thousand shards. A naïve infant, an infant she was unable to save, who didn't have a chance. So like another child in her past whose existence she had denied.

Breathe.

Heart racing she bursts through the double doors, desperate for the sweet release of salubrious rain.

Moments later, soaked to the bone Abby shuffles along the sidewalk to Ike's. She craves the comfort of coffee. Harsh lighting prompts rapid fire blinking, further teardrops squirt from their native spring. Wearily wobbling onto a stool she sits by the jukebox, catches the counter girl's eye and begs for her beverage. Hers is not the only attention she's attracted. He's there. Wide eyed he observes the scrub clad figure across from him. Her watery gaze catches his, their taciturn communication as deafening as ever. Sliding from his seat he steps towards her and positions himself opposite. She's crying. He flicks through the catalogue of memories in his mind, shooting back to the last time he saw her in tears. He realizes there is no last time. Reaching out he takes her hand in his, strokes her fingers delicately, laces them between his own. A ghost of a smile haunts her lips. She feels no other man could offer her such wordless consolation. Knows no other ever will. The jukebox whirrs to life and Peaches and Herb begin to sing: his selection. With his free hand he swipes a stray tendril from her eyes before rubbing away a tear with his thumb. Butterflies awaken in her stomach upon his caress. Butterflies she swept up in a net months ago and pinned to a page of the past. His thumb lingers.

"Abby," she hears the yearning in his voice, longing for an explanation. His fingers trace the curve of her face, hesitate around her chin.

A light sparks above them, the drone of the refrigeration unit silences and instantaneously the room is plunged into an inky blackness.

Chaos abounds. Customers call out in confusion. Babies cry. Somewhere a glass shatters to smithereens. And under this blanket of darkness, she kisses him.

Lips yield, tongues surrender, arms wave white flags as they initiate their embrace. Familiarity bedecked in new clothes.

Seconds and light years later bulbs sputter overhead as breathlessly they part. The tornado-swept room illuminates once more. And there she is, emerging from the bathroom, hands grazing her abdomen protectively. Her brown eyes meet his, a smile upon her lips.

"I thought we left the blackouts back in Kisangani," she jokes.

He nods distractedly.

Her gaze redirects. "You're John's friend, Abby, yes?"

Abby smiles mirthlessly in response, not trusting her swollen lips to move.

"John and I were just sharing some cake," Kem states, as if the power out never happened, "do come join us, there's plenty, even if I do eat like a horse these days."

She strides off to the table, as the others mechanically follow.

Moments pass and Abby politely sips at her coffee, declining numerous offers of gateau. Carter shuffles uncomfortably. The congolese woman babbles as she swallows forkfuls of food but Abby doesn't hear a word. Awkwardly she stands, bumbles an excuse about being needed back in the NICU and bolts. The pain in her chest is back. But this time she knows the rain will not wash it away.

Inside, he picks at crumbs whilst his girlfriend chatters. She fusses over his nonresponsiveness. He barely notices. And it is only then that he realizes he received no reason for Abby's tears.