Fragments
by Rach L.
rach_jiwon@hotmail.com
Rate: PG to R
Summary: Through a series of events, John Carter and Jing-Mei Chen reach a point where they have to examine their longtime friendship.
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.
Note: Not beta'ed. I have no idea what got me to start this one, but here it is. Hopefully it's not too sentimental.
Part 1: Regrets ('April Showers')
***
'How many times can a man turn his head,
and pretend that he just doesn't see?'
--Bob Dylan, "Blowing in the Wind"
***
Jing-Mei stepped into the hospital parking lot, feeling the cool wind against her skin. It was just like any other night. The shift ended quickly, and she would now go home, eat dinner, and watch the prime time TV all alone except for the picture of the beautiful child she'd given up.
'Do you regret it?'
At the end of a day, a whispering voice always asked her the same question. So far, she hadn't been able to answer it.
She was walking toward her car, fumbling with her purse to find the keys, when she spotted a dark figure in the shadow leaning against the wall.
"John?" she asked in surprise, "What are you doing?"
The crouched figure of her friend straightened up, startled. "Deb? Oh. I was just..." he paused, as if he wasn't sure how to answer, "...hanging."
For a moment, she wondered what to do. Was she supposed to join him when he was clearly involved in his solitary mood on his own? And frankly, even now she was offended by how he'd treated her after she'd come back from her maternal leave. He had acted like as if she didn't know even the basic ER procedure, and that still angered her. She knew he'd been only trying to protect her in his own way, but he had not even once considered that his actions might hurt her feelings. However good his intentions might have been, she hadn't been in the mood to talk to him lately.
But what kind of a friend would she be if she would just pass him without even saying hello?
"You look like hell," she commented as she approached him, trying to feign a cheerful voice. When she glanced down, she saw a few burnt out cigarette pieces at his feet. "No wonder." She shot him a disapproving look.
He gave her a broad grin that would've melted almost every female with eyes, but she was used to it. She'd observed the effect of that particular smile from the medical school, and she was determined not to give in to it. Seeing she wasn't going to let him go on this one, he reluctantly told her, "Just felt like it at the moment."
She slowly took in his disheveled appearance. She remembered seeing him going to Doctor Greene's wedding with Rena. He looked fine then, even excited, but right now he looked just the opposite. She briefly wondered what could possibly have happened to darken his mood, and reached out her hand to him. "Do you have one to spare?"
He arched his eyebrow. "Since when do you smoke?"
"Since you're obviously taking a great joy in it," she replied levelheadedly, "If it's that good, I'll have to test it myself. I'd like to know if it's worth endangering your health. Give it to me."
"Right, right," he put up his hands, gesturing surrender, "I'm quitting, Doctor Chen."
Her hand was still stretched out, her chin high. "You'll have to prove it."
He met her eyes for a second, then sighed. "Unfair. You always win." He obviously didn't want to, but he took out a cigarette pack from his pocket with his lighter and handed them to her.
Only after she threw them into a garbage can nearby, she turned to him with a small smile. "So," she began, standing at his side against the wall, "Are you going to tell me why you were drowning yourself in misery, or shall I just go home and forget what happened here?"
He was silent for a long moment. When she was about to conclude that he wasn't in the mood to talk and began considering leaving, he spoke again, "Do you have to go home? Can you...stay for a while?"
She was rather surprised. She had known him for a long time, and had seen him in many different moods, but not once he'd looked so vulnerable like this, not even after he'd been stabbed with a terrible consequence.
"Okay," she answered quietly. "I'll stay."
They stayed like that for a while, both leaning against the wall, saying nothing. She observed the surroundings absently. April was already over, but the night air was still cool. The sky was clouded, and the lights reflected in the cloud glowed dimly in red. For that moment, everything seemed to be silent. The Wind City at night. She never thought it'd look this beautiful from an empty parking lot.
"Mark and Doctor Corday looked really happy," John said finally.
She didn't say anything, and only waited for him to continue.
"And I was...envious."
Suddenly the fog inside her head was beginning to lift. "Because you are not...happy." She almost added 'Join the club', but she stopped herself in time. She wasn't one who could be heartlessly cynical about another's unhappiness.
He answered, his eyes on a faraway place, "Probably."
"What brought this on?" she couldn't help but ask, "I thought you were settling in quite nicely. I thought things were going well with Rena."
He faced her, shaking his head slightly. "It's not that...serious with her. Not yet, at least."
Right. And *when* had he been serious about relationships? As far as she knew, John still acted boyish about a lot of things, and having a relationship was one of them. "Figures," she told him playfully, "You're always onto glorious blonde types."
"Not true. I had a crush on you back in the school years, and you are not a blonde, as you know." He smiled impishly.
She snorted. "I don't believe you. I was way too much of a brat, all too competitive. And you, as a certified brat yourself, never fell for another fellow brat."
"Oh but I did," his eyes glowed with mischief, "You had the look and the brain. Who could not resist such a combination?"
He was teasing her, she knew, but it didn't feel that bad. He really *was* good at flirting. "I have to compliment on your flattering skill, but avoiding the topic can only go so far." She met his eyes, and inquired gently, "What makes you so unhappy, John?" She genuinely wanted to know.
She hadn't really expected him to answer, but to her surprise, he did. "Life in general, I guess." He took a deep breath, then choked out the words, "I think I'm falling for Abby."
"Abby? But she and Doctor Kovac...oh," she faltered, suddenly understanding. "Oh."
"Gotta hand it to me about falling for unattainable ones," he sighed as he raked his fingers through his sandy hair, "I shouldn't even be feeling this way. She's been a great friend to me, and even though I have a friction with Doctor Kovac, I do respect him."
She wasn't sure what she was supposed to think, or feel about his confession. She supposed she did feel a bit of jealousy for the fact that his great friend was now Abby, but her sympathy for him was greater. "She helped you through difficult times. It's only natural to form an attachment with her."
He turned to her with a lopsided grin. "For Christ's sake, Deb. You sound like a therapist."
She smiled ruefully. "Sorry, been reading too much clinical psychology reports lately." Then she sobered down, "So, you think telling her about your feelings is impossible?"
"Yep." He looked up at the sky with a self-deprecating smile, pretending that thinking about his feelings didn't matter to him.
"But wouldn't that make you feel at least a little better?"
"Nope, I don't think so."
"Then *what* would make you feel better?"
"A cigarette?" He looked at her with a hopeful expression.
She gave him a look. "Don't even think about it."
"Damn," he sighed dramatically, "Well, I tried." He looked down, shuffling his right foot. "Funny. Here we are, two kids brought up in a rich environment, both with excellently satisfying professions, yet grossly unhappy with where our lives are going. Great, isn't it?"
She frowned. "What makes you think I'm unhappy?"
"Aren't you?" he asked back.
If she was, she was sure that he didn't need to know about it. "No. I'm not unhappy."
He only shrugged. "Whatever you say."
She was beginning to feel uneasy. All of a sudden, the temperature seemed to have dropped a few degrees, and she had to fasten her jacket. "I hope it's going to work out with her, one way or the other," she took a step forward to the direction of her car, "If you need anyone to talk to, I'm always around, so..."
"You're going?" He looked alarmed.
She tried to think of a plausible excuse. It turned out that there were quite many reasons why they shouldn't be standing here talking this late at night. "It's getting late, and I have an early shift tomorrow. As I recall, you do too. Go home, John." She gave him a small smile as a good-bye gesture, and turned around. For some reason, she felt the urge to leave the place as soon as possible.
"Deb, wait."
Before she realized what was happening, he took her arm, whirled her around, and bent down to kiss her. For that overwhelming moment, she let herself enjoy the sensation of his lips pressing hers, and let herself feel his hands gently cupping her face.
But only for a moment.
As soon as her senses came back to her, she pulled away from him, thoroughly shocked. When she looked up, she saw an equally startled and perplexed expression on his face.
She knew that both of them were asking the same question at the moment--What was that?
"I don't know what has gotten over me," he professed, obviously disturbed by his action, "I just...I don't know what happened."
She felt dizzy, and her legs seemed to be on the verge of giving in. "Think *I* need that cigarette now."
"Right," he agreed, and let go of her arm he'd been holding. "...Right."
They stood awkwardly, facing each other. He was looking at somewhere beyond her shoulder, avoiding her eyes, and she was doing just about the same thing. Many thoughts were going to her mind, but her lips were unable to form any words.
"I think," she took a deep breath, and willed herself to speak, "I think it'd be for the best if I just leave now."
"Deb, you don't have to go. I mean...I don't know what I mean, actually." His fingers that raked through his hair shook slightly. "Would you...would you like to come over to my place tonight?"
There was no doubt what he meant by his suggestion. She wasn't greatly surprised, but couldn't help feeling sad.
Loneliness could do a lot of strange things to people, she thought bitterly.
She swallowed the metallic taste in her mouth, and spoke calmly, "John, if this is an attempt to be with someone tonight, I don't think I want to be the one. I don't deserve that. I don't deserved to be thought as someone..."
Who? Someone who could sooth his loneliness with no strings attached? Someone who could provide him with a safe outlet? Someone who shared his misery, but not his heart?
She didn't want to know the answer.
"You're right," he spoke almost inaudibly after a few seconds of silence, "I'm sorry."
She stared at him for a long moment, before she turned around and walked to her car without looking back.
It was supposed to be summer soon. Then why was it so cold?
'Do you regret it?'
The voice asked again as she opened the car door and slipped into the seat. This time, it wasn't asking about her baby she had to give up.
As she drove by, she saw the dark figure reflected back in her mirror, standing against the wall where she'd left him. She stared as the figure got smaller and smaller, until it disappeared altogether.
Did she regret it?
This time, the answer was yes.
End Part 1
05/03/01
by Rach L.
rach_jiwon@hotmail.com
Rate: PG to R
Summary: Through a series of events, John Carter and Jing-Mei Chen reach a point where they have to examine their longtime friendship.
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.
Note: Not beta'ed. I have no idea what got me to start this one, but here it is. Hopefully it's not too sentimental.
Part 1: Regrets ('April Showers')
***
'How many times can a man turn his head,
and pretend that he just doesn't see?'
--Bob Dylan, "Blowing in the Wind"
***
Jing-Mei stepped into the hospital parking lot, feeling the cool wind against her skin. It was just like any other night. The shift ended quickly, and she would now go home, eat dinner, and watch the prime time TV all alone except for the picture of the beautiful child she'd given up.
'Do you regret it?'
At the end of a day, a whispering voice always asked her the same question. So far, she hadn't been able to answer it.
She was walking toward her car, fumbling with her purse to find the keys, when she spotted a dark figure in the shadow leaning against the wall.
"John?" she asked in surprise, "What are you doing?"
The crouched figure of her friend straightened up, startled. "Deb? Oh. I was just..." he paused, as if he wasn't sure how to answer, "...hanging."
For a moment, she wondered what to do. Was she supposed to join him when he was clearly involved in his solitary mood on his own? And frankly, even now she was offended by how he'd treated her after she'd come back from her maternal leave. He had acted like as if she didn't know even the basic ER procedure, and that still angered her. She knew he'd been only trying to protect her in his own way, but he had not even once considered that his actions might hurt her feelings. However good his intentions might have been, she hadn't been in the mood to talk to him lately.
But what kind of a friend would she be if she would just pass him without even saying hello?
"You look like hell," she commented as she approached him, trying to feign a cheerful voice. When she glanced down, she saw a few burnt out cigarette pieces at his feet. "No wonder." She shot him a disapproving look.
He gave her a broad grin that would've melted almost every female with eyes, but she was used to it. She'd observed the effect of that particular smile from the medical school, and she was determined not to give in to it. Seeing she wasn't going to let him go on this one, he reluctantly told her, "Just felt like it at the moment."
She slowly took in his disheveled appearance. She remembered seeing him going to Doctor Greene's wedding with Rena. He looked fine then, even excited, but right now he looked just the opposite. She briefly wondered what could possibly have happened to darken his mood, and reached out her hand to him. "Do you have one to spare?"
He arched his eyebrow. "Since when do you smoke?"
"Since you're obviously taking a great joy in it," she replied levelheadedly, "If it's that good, I'll have to test it myself. I'd like to know if it's worth endangering your health. Give it to me."
"Right, right," he put up his hands, gesturing surrender, "I'm quitting, Doctor Chen."
Her hand was still stretched out, her chin high. "You'll have to prove it."
He met her eyes for a second, then sighed. "Unfair. You always win." He obviously didn't want to, but he took out a cigarette pack from his pocket with his lighter and handed them to her.
Only after she threw them into a garbage can nearby, she turned to him with a small smile. "So," she began, standing at his side against the wall, "Are you going to tell me why you were drowning yourself in misery, or shall I just go home and forget what happened here?"
He was silent for a long moment. When she was about to conclude that he wasn't in the mood to talk and began considering leaving, he spoke again, "Do you have to go home? Can you...stay for a while?"
She was rather surprised. She had known him for a long time, and had seen him in many different moods, but not once he'd looked so vulnerable like this, not even after he'd been stabbed with a terrible consequence.
"Okay," she answered quietly. "I'll stay."
They stayed like that for a while, both leaning against the wall, saying nothing. She observed the surroundings absently. April was already over, but the night air was still cool. The sky was clouded, and the lights reflected in the cloud glowed dimly in red. For that moment, everything seemed to be silent. The Wind City at night. She never thought it'd look this beautiful from an empty parking lot.
"Mark and Doctor Corday looked really happy," John said finally.
She didn't say anything, and only waited for him to continue.
"And I was...envious."
Suddenly the fog inside her head was beginning to lift. "Because you are not...happy." She almost added 'Join the club', but she stopped herself in time. She wasn't one who could be heartlessly cynical about another's unhappiness.
He answered, his eyes on a faraway place, "Probably."
"What brought this on?" she couldn't help but ask, "I thought you were settling in quite nicely. I thought things were going well with Rena."
He faced her, shaking his head slightly. "It's not that...serious with her. Not yet, at least."
Right. And *when* had he been serious about relationships? As far as she knew, John still acted boyish about a lot of things, and having a relationship was one of them. "Figures," she told him playfully, "You're always onto glorious blonde types."
"Not true. I had a crush on you back in the school years, and you are not a blonde, as you know." He smiled impishly.
She snorted. "I don't believe you. I was way too much of a brat, all too competitive. And you, as a certified brat yourself, never fell for another fellow brat."
"Oh but I did," his eyes glowed with mischief, "You had the look and the brain. Who could not resist such a combination?"
He was teasing her, she knew, but it didn't feel that bad. He really *was* good at flirting. "I have to compliment on your flattering skill, but avoiding the topic can only go so far." She met his eyes, and inquired gently, "What makes you so unhappy, John?" She genuinely wanted to know.
She hadn't really expected him to answer, but to her surprise, he did. "Life in general, I guess." He took a deep breath, then choked out the words, "I think I'm falling for Abby."
"Abby? But she and Doctor Kovac...oh," she faltered, suddenly understanding. "Oh."
"Gotta hand it to me about falling for unattainable ones," he sighed as he raked his fingers through his sandy hair, "I shouldn't even be feeling this way. She's been a great friend to me, and even though I have a friction with Doctor Kovac, I do respect him."
She wasn't sure what she was supposed to think, or feel about his confession. She supposed she did feel a bit of jealousy for the fact that his great friend was now Abby, but her sympathy for him was greater. "She helped you through difficult times. It's only natural to form an attachment with her."
He turned to her with a lopsided grin. "For Christ's sake, Deb. You sound like a therapist."
She smiled ruefully. "Sorry, been reading too much clinical psychology reports lately." Then she sobered down, "So, you think telling her about your feelings is impossible?"
"Yep." He looked up at the sky with a self-deprecating smile, pretending that thinking about his feelings didn't matter to him.
"But wouldn't that make you feel at least a little better?"
"Nope, I don't think so."
"Then *what* would make you feel better?"
"A cigarette?" He looked at her with a hopeful expression.
She gave him a look. "Don't even think about it."
"Damn," he sighed dramatically, "Well, I tried." He looked down, shuffling his right foot. "Funny. Here we are, two kids brought up in a rich environment, both with excellently satisfying professions, yet grossly unhappy with where our lives are going. Great, isn't it?"
She frowned. "What makes you think I'm unhappy?"
"Aren't you?" he asked back.
If she was, she was sure that he didn't need to know about it. "No. I'm not unhappy."
He only shrugged. "Whatever you say."
She was beginning to feel uneasy. All of a sudden, the temperature seemed to have dropped a few degrees, and she had to fasten her jacket. "I hope it's going to work out with her, one way or the other," she took a step forward to the direction of her car, "If you need anyone to talk to, I'm always around, so..."
"You're going?" He looked alarmed.
She tried to think of a plausible excuse. It turned out that there were quite many reasons why they shouldn't be standing here talking this late at night. "It's getting late, and I have an early shift tomorrow. As I recall, you do too. Go home, John." She gave him a small smile as a good-bye gesture, and turned around. For some reason, she felt the urge to leave the place as soon as possible.
"Deb, wait."
Before she realized what was happening, he took her arm, whirled her around, and bent down to kiss her. For that overwhelming moment, she let herself enjoy the sensation of his lips pressing hers, and let herself feel his hands gently cupping her face.
But only for a moment.
As soon as her senses came back to her, she pulled away from him, thoroughly shocked. When she looked up, she saw an equally startled and perplexed expression on his face.
She knew that both of them were asking the same question at the moment--What was that?
"I don't know what has gotten over me," he professed, obviously disturbed by his action, "I just...I don't know what happened."
She felt dizzy, and her legs seemed to be on the verge of giving in. "Think *I* need that cigarette now."
"Right," he agreed, and let go of her arm he'd been holding. "...Right."
They stood awkwardly, facing each other. He was looking at somewhere beyond her shoulder, avoiding her eyes, and she was doing just about the same thing. Many thoughts were going to her mind, but her lips were unable to form any words.
"I think," she took a deep breath, and willed herself to speak, "I think it'd be for the best if I just leave now."
"Deb, you don't have to go. I mean...I don't know what I mean, actually." His fingers that raked through his hair shook slightly. "Would you...would you like to come over to my place tonight?"
There was no doubt what he meant by his suggestion. She wasn't greatly surprised, but couldn't help feeling sad.
Loneliness could do a lot of strange things to people, she thought bitterly.
She swallowed the metallic taste in her mouth, and spoke calmly, "John, if this is an attempt to be with someone tonight, I don't think I want to be the one. I don't deserve that. I don't deserved to be thought as someone..."
Who? Someone who could sooth his loneliness with no strings attached? Someone who could provide him with a safe outlet? Someone who shared his misery, but not his heart?
She didn't want to know the answer.
"You're right," he spoke almost inaudibly after a few seconds of silence, "I'm sorry."
She stared at him for a long moment, before she turned around and walked to her car without looking back.
It was supposed to be summer soon. Then why was it so cold?
'Do you regret it?'
The voice asked again as she opened the car door and slipped into the seat. This time, it wasn't asking about her baby she had to give up.
As she drove by, she saw the dark figure reflected back in her mirror, standing against the wall where she'd left him. She stared as the figure got smaller and smaller, until it disappeared altogether.
Did she regret it?
This time, the answer was yes.
End Part 1
05/03/01