A/N: I know it's been a month. I know. And I had this chapter already done for the first 1500 words, but the second half just didn't seem right. So I changed it, changed it again, switched to a different POV and this is the final result... Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Officialy the characters are NBC's. But what the heck, this is my younger version.
Warning: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm Dutch, I do the best I can!
Reviews: I was completely floored by the fifteen reviews I received! Lovely! Keep them coming, they absolutely make my day!
Extra: To everyone who is interest in my first fic 'Have A Little Faith In Me', I'm going to delete that one soon, because I'm just too embarresed about it. So, if you still want to read it – don't – than you won't have much more time!



The Young Troubled

Chapter 7 – Please, Lean On Me

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------ School – 09:20

I'm standing in the hallway, nervously waiting for Mr. Watkins to open the classroom. Dad came back this morning, but he was asleep when I left to school, so we haven't really had the chance to talk yet.

"Good morning John," Mr. Watkins says cheerful as he approaches me through the hallway. "Everything ready and prepared?"

"Yes," I say back with a smile and wait for him to open the door of the, yet still empty, classroom.

"That's good. What time is it now? Ah, another ten minutes." He sits down at his desk and I sit down at one of the tables in the front row to go through the pages once again.

"Did everything work out with you and Abby?" He asks without looking up from the tests he's correcting.

"Yeah, I think so," I answer a little absent ad look at the clock. 09:23. Come on Abby...

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." With that he stands up and walks to the back of the classroom. "You two can go stand behind my desk, I'll listen from here."

"Sure..." I get up as well and begin to organize the papers in the right rank as the first students begin to walk in.

It's almost 09:30 when practically everyone is already inside. Everyone but Abby, and people begin to notice. I'm getting really nervous now, I can't do this alone. I don't know her parts, I don't even have them with me. And she'd introduce. Oh crap.

Nervously I bite my lip and look at Watkins who shrugs but then walks back to me. "Do you have any idea where she might be?" He asks softly.

"No, not really. Maybe she's sick again," I try but that's really not what I'm thinking.

"Or is she mad at you for something else?"

"No," I stutter. "No, no I don't think so." Is that what's going on? What if she doesn't want to come? What if this is her pay back for the stupid things I said that first time? No, that can't be possible, she wouldn't do that. Would she?

"Hm. Okay." He turns around to the class. "People, we'll wait another five minutes for Abby, and otherwise John may do his own part, and we'll hear Abby's another time." He turns around for my confirmation. I nod weakly.

"You'll be alright," he says to me and then walks to an empty table close to the door.

Now I'm really getting nervous. I have to this on my own now? It's not like I never did that before but I really thought that I'd do this with Abby. What if something is wrong with her? Or with Eric?

Five uncomfortable minutes of flipping through my pages for the twentiest time later, Watkins coughs and stands up. "Okay, John, it's up to you."

I swallow and rub my neck. She can't be serious. God Abby, you could have called me or the school. This is stupid, and unfair. "We...," I start. "I," I correct myself. "Will tell you what the difference between DNA and RNA is, and what these do in your body."

I quickly look up to Waktins, who nods encouraging.

"Now Abby is not here I'll have to skip some parts, but I'll tell you what RNA does and what mutations in the DNA can cause." This doesn't make sense.

The class chuckles softly. I look at Michael, who seems one of the few that is actually paying attention. He offers me a friendly smile.

"Okay," I sigh. "RNA stands for Ribo Nucleic Acid and consists of covalently bound nucleotides. They contain ribose rings and uracil, unlike DNA, which contains deoxyribose and thymine. RNA serves as a the template for translation of genes into proteins, transferring amino acids to the ribosome to form proteins, and also translating the transcript into proteins..."

I continue like that for a while, trying to ignore the fact that Abby is just not here and that I'm standing here on my own, telling things that are not comprehensible if other things can't be explained. Abby's things.

Someone knocks at the door of the classroom.

Immediately all heads, including mine, stare at the door as Watkins opens it a little. "Yes?" He asks.

His facial expression changes from disturbed to worried, and then he opens the door further, what allows me to see who he's looking at.

Abby.

Abby, looking completely distracted as her eyes fly over the whole class and then lock in mine. As they always do. Normally I'd be blushing at that, but this time I don't. Because her brown eyes are teary, her face is stained with tears, and she looks just so, uncomfortable that I don't know how to react.

"I'm sorry," she says biting her lip.

My mouth felt open from the shock, she really looks broken. Truly broken. I look at Watkins, who looks at Abby. "Are you okay?" He asks softly.

She nods and swallows and then steps inside.

I want to walk over to her, ask her what's going on, but I don't, because the whole class is looking at her, and at me.

Abby walks over to where I'm standing and puts her bag down on the desk. "You want to do this?" I ask in an undertone, intensily hoping that the class isn't hearing me.

"Of course," she answers quietly as she gets the papers out of her bag and coughs shortly.

"Okay people, we're going to start again I think," Watkins speaks to the class and then walks back to the same table he was sitting on in the beginning.

I look at Abby, who takes a deep breath and pulls her hair behind her ear. Then she looks up from her papers, right to the class, and begins to talk.

Her voice is shivering, her hands are trembling but she's talking, she is presenting, and I don't know what is wrong, but it affected her very, very intensively.

I bite my lip as I continue to listen to her introduction, just like I did yesterday. But it breaks my heart to hear her speak like this, with such an incredibly hurt and trembling voice, that everyone feels that something isn't okay. Not okay at all.

"This was our presentation, are there any questions?" I ask as soon as Abby finished her last part with a lot of difficulty.

Several classmates just shake their head and glance at their watch. So do I, we filled the thirty minutes perfectly.

Watkins begins to applaud and soon the class follows. "Perfect!" He smiles and stands up.

I look at Abby, who offers me a faint smile.

"Very, very well done you two. It was clear, interesting; an example for everybody in this class."

My eyes widen at that compliment and Abby grins a bit cynical.

"I'll give you your final grade in a week, after I saw some other presentations, alright?"

Then the bell rings and within seconds the classroom is empty again. "I'd like to keep your notes to observe." Watkins says as he's about to leave the room. "And please close the door after your done and hand the key to de janitor."

Abby nods and turns her back to the blackboard, starting to wipe our small drafts off that served as explanation.

I sort out the papers that should go to Watkins and to myself, and when I'm done Abby is just rinsing out the sponge.

I look at her, thinking of what to say, because I really hope she'll talk to me. But when she's done, she swings her bag over her shoulder and walks out the door without saying a word. Just like that.

Is she really gonna leave right now?

"Hey, Abby?" I say grabbing my bag and lock the door behind me.

She doesn't answer me, and quickens her step through the hallway.

"Abby, what's wrong?"

She shakes her head while she binds her hair together with an elastic.

Just when she's about to walk down the stairs I catch up with her and grab her shoulder, making her turn around. She looks at me, bewildered, scared, but most of all angry.

"Could you just leave me alone?"

I let go and stand there, at the top of the stairs, as she quickly walks down. No. I'm not gonna her let her leave like this. Besides the fact that I'm worried, I deserve a little explanation for her turning up so late.

I run down the stairs and find her at her locker, just putting on her coat. I go standing in front of her, close to her.

"You come in, late, practically crying, and you expect me to leave you alone?"

She sighs and zips up her coat. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there on time, but I can't talk to you right now. I have to go home." She pushes me away and walks to the entrance doors of the school.

I sigh and stare at her until she turns the corner. I could run after her, stop her, talk to her, but I won't. She was clear enough, she doesn't want my help. She never did. Done with the presentation, done with John. That's her theory.

Pissed off I walk back in school and hand the key to the janitor. History class in five minutes.

------ Carter's neigborhood – 20:20

Eleven hours later, when the bright blue sky begins to turn into gloaming, I'm still strolling through the city, given up my instinctive search. I'm not sure where I'm going, I'm just following my footsteps, walking down the fancy neighborhood. Carter's neighborhood. And I know I shouldn't be going there. Hell, I walked away from him this morning. He asked me what's wrong, I didn't answer. Didn't want to answer, and in a way couldn't answer. Couldn't give up my pride.

But there's no pride anymore. I tried everything, went to people I never talked to before, people who ignore me, or Maggie, or Eric as we pass them in the mall, who quickly look away. But today I faced all of them, asked them if they had seen them. But they hadn't, and neither did I.

Neither did I, and that's probably what hurts the most. I'm blaming myself for this. I should have woken up earlier this morning, and I should have made clear to him that he should never, ever go with Maggie, even though he wouldn't understand. But I never said that, because I figured he understood that after that night when she screamed and yelled in his face. But it didn't take away his love, or trust, in mom.

It didn't, and I understand why. Of course I understand why, she's his mother. My mother. And when she tells him to go to who knows where, he'll go with her. He'll keep believing in some better place, with food and toys and money. But I don't know if they're at a better place, or if they are at a so called 'place' at all. What if they're in some sort of bus stop, what if Maggie dragged him in a plane, like when we went to Disneyland?

What if she convinced him that I'm 'just' his sister, and that she's his mother, and that she knows what's right or wrong?

Eric doesn't know. Eric is little, Eric believes her. And I have no idea where he is.

"Can I help you?"

Startled I look up by the low voice of the brown haired man standing in front of me. Oh, God, I rang the doorbell.

"I was looking for John Carter, but if he's not here..."

"No, he's home. And you are?"

"Abby. Abby Wyczenski." My voice is still thick with tears, and his father notices.

"Are you alright?" The man steps closer.

"Yes." I quickly look up and fake a smile. "I'm fine."

"Do you want to come in?"

I shake my head.

"Okay. Okay, I'll get him for you."

I open my mouth to protest, it was a bad idea. And it's not even an idea. Just... what? My intuition? Or my despair maybe.

I hear steps in the hallway, and I know they're his. Uncomfortably I look down and focus on the ground, desperately trying to think of how to act.

"Abby?"

I swallow, not daring to look up, and cross my arms against my chest.

"Are you okay?" The concern is genuine and honest. An honesty that I'm not used to.

I'm open my mouth to say 'I'm fine' for the twentiest time today, but I can't. I can't lie to him. I don't dare to shake my head either. I don't dare to break down. And I don't want to.

"Do you... want to come in?" His voice hesitates but he does step back, allowing me to step inside if I will.

But I won't. Or I shouldn't. With a little trepidation I shake my head. "I'm sorry," I manage to push over my lips and look further away as I see his eyes in the corner of mine. I shouldn't be here.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come." I shrug and take a step back.

Just when I'm about to turn around I feel his hand on my shoulder. Softer than this morning, friendly. "No, Abby, wait."

I wait and carefully look up to him. His eyes grow wide as he sees my face. I must look like hell, with red stains of tears all over my face.

"What happened?" He asks with such a soft eyes that I feel the new tears coming. Tears of relief. Relieved that someone asks, that someone really cares.

My eyes move restless around his face, and finally end in his.

Surrendered.

"Come on, come inside, get you something to drink."

I swallow and shrug again, pulling my hair behind my ear.

"Please?" His hand slides down to my back, softly pushing me back to the steps.

And without saying a word, I follow him to the big livingroom where I sit down in the farthest corner of the couch.

He looks at me for a while, still standing in the doorway. I don't look back.

"I'll be right back with some water."

I nod weakly and then he disappears back in the hall.
Uncomfortable I stare over the room. Paintings, chinese vases, and through the antique glass sliding doors I see the enormous dining table and the matching chairs with white satin upholstery. Even now, when there are so many things going on in my mind, I'm still amazed by all this wealth.

I startle as John suddenly sits down besides me, handing me the glass.

"I'm really sorry," is the only thing I can think of to say.

"Stop that. It's okay."

"No, no it's not okay," I mumble, shaking my head as I clutch my hands around the glass.

"Then what's going on?"

I shrug, having absolutely no idea where to start. "Eric," is all I manage to say and then, to my own horror, my voice cracks. I look up to him, with the knowledge that there's a tear streaming down the corner of my eye, but I just can no longer hide.

"I lost him."



Thanks you for reading!

(Preview for next chapter: She lost her brother, he wasn't there when she woke up. Dearest John offers his help, and a search in the night of the city begins...)

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