Chapter 1

The ER was different, a quieter place than it had been when he left it. The nurses were gathered in small clusters, whispering to each other. Carter furrowed his brow. Something was wrong here.

"...Abby. Not if she didn't..." He only heard a snippet of the conversation. Abby? Something had happened to Abby?

"What happened?"

They looked up at him, confusion in their eyes. "What?" they asked in unison.

"Abby. What happened to Abby?"

"Oh, you weren't here last night." Connie shook her head. "Her neighbor beat her up. Paramedics brought her in."

"What? Is she alright? Where is she? Did she get checked in?"

"She wasn't hurt that badly. She went home with Doctor Lewis."

Carter shook his head. Abby had gotten hurt? She went home with Susan? How had so much happened in such a little time?

"Is she alright?" he repeated, desperate for any scrap of information.

"Her nose was broken, and she had some bruises, but other than that she was okay."

"But she couldn't go back to her apartment because her neighbor might still be there. The cops haven't found him yet," Chuny filled him in.

Carter leaned against the counter. "Did she look okay? Was she upset or anything?"

"No, not really. She was just sort of...sitting there, not saying much."

That sounded like Abby. She probably hadn't wanted everyone to see how afraid she was. She had put on a brave face for her coworkers, and then what? Cried herself to sleep when she got to Susan's? He knew that was how she dealt with things.

He needed to talk to her, make sure she was okay. He checked his watch. It was almost noon, and he was off in fifteen minutes. He would go to Susan's.

_____________________________________________________

She wanted to get up, she really did, but her body wouldn't let her.

When Susan said it wasn't much, she wasn't joking, Abby thought. This was, without a doubt, the most uncomfortable foldout sofa she had ever slept on.

"You hungry? I made breakfast," Susan offered, buttered toast in hand. Abby stiffly shook her head. After three attempts, she managed to dislodge herself from the sofa, and began to limp towards the kitchen table.

"How're you feeling?" Susan asked sympathetically, depositing an unwanted plate of breakfast in front of Abby.

"Like I just got hit in the face with a cast iron skillet," Abby mumbled, the unbruised side of her face resting on the table. "Have the cops called yet?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago. They said they still haven't found the guy."

Abby groaned. "So I still can't go home. Great," she said. Her shoulders sagged.

"You can stay here as long as you need to," Susan said, placing a hand on Abby's shoulder.

"Thanks, but I'm not gonna invade your house any more." And I'm not sleeping on that sofa again, she thought. "I'll just get a motel. It shouldn't take more than a day or two for the cops to find him."

"You don't have to-" She was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Be right back," she said, heading for the living room.

"Oh...Carter. Hi. What're you doing here?"

"I heard about Abby. Came to see if she was alright." He tried to look around Susan into the house. "Is she still here?"

"Yeah, she's in the kitchen. She looks like she's doing a lot better."

Looks can be deceiving, he thought, following Susan into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was Abby, sitting at the table looking like in was just another normal morning. He wouldn't have thought anything was wrong if he hadn't seen how the whole left side of her face was swollen. He winced at the bruises. What kind of man did that to a woman?

"How're you feeling?" he asked, lowering himself into a chair.

I wonder how many times I'm going to be asked that today, Abby wondered. "Okay," she said, suddenly interested in the eggs and bacon Susan had brought her. Why had he come here? To see her in all her hideous, swollen glory? She turned her head, trying to hide the worst of the bruises.

"The nurses told me what happened with your neighbor. I'm really sorry."

Abby shrugged. "That's what happens when you get involved, I guess."

"Have they found the guy yet?" Abby answered with a quick shake of her head. "Will you feel safe living in that building knowing he's still on the loose?"

"Susan said I can stay with her until they find him," Abby told him, not mentioning that she had turned that offer down. She didn't need Carter offering her free room and board as well. She had had enough charity for now.

Carter jingled his car keys in his hand. "Well, want me to go with you to your apartment, so you can get some of your stuff?"

Abby forced a smile. "I'm a big girl, Carter. I think I can manage." In reality, she had no intention of so much as setting foot in her apartment for now. There would still be blood splattered on the carpet. Her blood.

She remembered how she had tried to get the paramedics to let her clean up the blood before they took her to the hospital. They thought she was altered because of a head injury. She had tried to explain to them that if she didn't clean it now, the stain would set and it would be permanent, but somehow she couldn't get her mouth to form the words. So they had loaded her onto the gurney and wheeled her past the hardening blood spot on the carpet.

She had dreaded going to County, but knew it was the closest hospital to her apartment. Then came that awful moment; everyone crowded around the gurney, wanting to know what happened. The paramedics explained while she stared at a spot just above Connie's head. She hadn't wanted to look at them, see the pity in their eyes, maybe even disgust, at her deformed face.

The moment of impact. Brian's fist connecting with her jaw. That split second when she realized she shouldn't have opened the door, right before Brian kicked it open. The blood running down her face. She could still feel in now.

"Abby?"

Abby realized that it wasn't blood, but a tear, and her face was no longer bleeding. She was sitting in Susan's kitchen, and both Susan as Carter were staring at her. She quickly wiped the tear away.

"What's wrong?" Carter asked.

"Nothing! Nothing," she said shakily, trying to get herself under control. She didn't want to fall apart in front of them. She didn't want them to see her cry. She didn't want them to pity her, just like everyone else.

Abby stood up from the table. "Well, I'm gonna go get dressed," she said, quickly fleeing the table before either of them could respond.

_____________________________________________________________

"You want to talk about it?"

Abby shook her head firmly. "There's nothing to talk about," she assured him.

Carter thought otherwise. He had seen that look on her face in Susan's kitchen. Fear. He had seen her trying to hide her tears. Why was it so important to her to keep this front up? Why didn't she understand that everyone hurt sometimes?

When they got to the building, Carter got out of the car with her. She wouldn't have asked him to, but she was glad that she didn't have to do this alone.

"You ready?" he asked, locking the doors. Abby nodded, and they headed upstairs.

The last time Abby had been on these stairs, she had been on a gurney, staring at the ceiling as it whizzed past her eyes. It was quite a different perspective.

They seemed to get to her apartment too quickly. There is was, wood splintered off the door where Brian had kicked it in. She shuddered at the sight. Why had she opened the door the second time?

She wasn't moving, so Carter took the key from her hand and unlocked the door, pushing it open.

There was the blood on the carpet. It had dried a nice, crusty brown. She remembered the sickening crunch of his fist breaking her nose, the blood flying away from her as she fell to the ground-

"Abby?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice. He was staring at her again. Why was he staring at her?

"You...you just wait here. I'll go get some clothes, and I'll be right back." She headed into her bedroom before he had a chance to respond.

She grabbed a bag and started jamming clothes into it, the first clothes she could find. She just wanted to get out of here.

It wasn't fair. This was her apartment, and now she couldn't be here because of him. She was afraid to be here.

But she had seen what he did to Joyce. He could do that to her too. She couldn't risk running into him again.

She was so tired. Tired of pretending, for one. She wanted to get away from the curious eyes of Carter, Susan and everyone else, and just spend some time alone. Maybe after she had a good cry, she'd feel a little better. She made sure to grab her wallet; she would need it for the motel room.

She headed for the door to her bedroom. It was cracked, just like her front door had been cracked last night.

In that split second she knew she needed to close the door-

But it was too late, there he was. His fist connected with her face. Once she was down on the ground, he kicked her in the ribs. "Tell me were she is!" he screamed. She curled into a ball to protect herself from his feet.

"Abby!"

Then it wasn't Brian by her side, but Carter, kneeling next to her. She was on the floor, curled into a ball to protect herself.

"Abby, are you okay?"

She wanted to tell him she was, but she couldn't seem to form the words. So she simply stared at him, wide eyed.

Carter seemed to know just what to do. He held her in his arms. "It's okay. He's gone. He's not gonna hurt you again, I promise."

Abby tried to shake that feeling, that momentary terror. He wasn't here. She didn't have anything to be afraid of. So why was she still so afraid?

A/N: As you may have guessed, this is a post-ep for ASTOF. You all have channel 4 to thank for this story. Their ceaseless airings of season 8 reruns inspired me to write this. I just saw ASTOF for the first time last night, so as usual, I jumped on the bandwagon two years after everyone else hopped off. Oh, well. Better late than never. And speaking of post-ep fics for two year old episodes, I do intend to finish On The Outside (eventually), but I've had a bit of writer's block, so it's on the shelf for a while. And yes, this is ANOTHER Abby gets hurt story from me, but this time TPTB hurt her, so I'm really not to blame. ~Taz