This is How You Remind Me (Part 3)
"Get up now, we're going to a meeting." he said
"What? Carter I can't." she said.
"Listen, you had the will to pick up those beer bottles, and now you're going to find the will to pick yourself up and get to a meeting."
He wasn't backing down on this or letting his emotions get the best of him. She had to start recovery right away; this could be considered a minor relapse. God knows she had been through enough with all that had happened with the attack. He shuddered even now to think. It was a most likely possibility that this could happen and he kicked himself for not seeing it earlier.
She didn't move from her position on the bed, and she simply looked back at him when he glared at her, willing her to get up.
" Dr. Carter," she countered, " You seem to be forgetting I have an injury." She motioned with her head in the direction of her foot. It was expertly wrapped, although the combination of house wares on her leg looked quite funny. She burst out laughing in consideration of the three towels and wooden kitchen spoons that he had used creating a sort of makeshift splint.
He let out a frustrated sigh in seeing that she was somewhat right, but decided that he wasn't going to give up that easily. He wasn't going to make this easy on her. He asked her where her medical supplies were kept and went to get them leaving her confused on the bed.
He returned and rewrapped her foot this time with a few quick butterfly band-aids and a simple wrap around ace bandage. There was some swelling and sensitivity where she had a painful bruise, but nothing that wouldn't heal. he made some quick calls on his cell phone and found out where the closest meeting was being held and when.
Throughout this entire process Abby didn't say a word. She felt like a punished child. She managed only to steal a few guilty glances at his face as he focused intensely on her foot. He caught her glance but looked away in mock disapproval. They shared a small smile but the tension in the air was so thick it couldn't have been cut with a butter knife. No, Abby thought, you'd need a machete to cut through all of this. Things had been said, things she had wanted to express to him every time he had helped her out of jam, but she didn't know how. And then suddenly she did, she must have known how, because he responded in a way that made her believe he understood what she meant. That he understood he was important to her.
Carter felt energized and determined to support her in her recovery. He knew she was going to be okay because he knew 'they' were going to be okay. He had worried a lot about the chasm that had formed and seemed to have grown wider between them as of late. He knew now that he couldn't allow that to happen again and that he wasn't going to. He was glad that Abby had expressed that ' all of this' was intense for her. He knew that feeling all too well, he had felt it for so long. She knew that it was intense, but he didn't know what she took that to mean. Maybe she was still learning, maybe he could show her. Right now they had to get moving.
"Carter I look like I've been beaten with the ugly stick and left in the gutter.. I can't believe you're making me leave the house like this." He rolled his eyes at her and said "It's okay, so you'll frighten a few people here and there, it happens."
"At least bring me some clean clothes to put on." He obliged choosing the items from her closet that she directed him to. His eye caught a very beautiful pale green velvet dress. He had never seen her wear it and felt the quick sting of regret hit his heart. "What about this little number?" he asked her smiling.
" Do you want to live to see your 32nd birthday?!" she threatened.
He snickered and brought the requested items over to her bed. He had really missed this banter of theirs. There was something so natural and satisfying about it , it never felt forced.
"How are you going to err manage this? He asked her hesitantly. "Do you need any help?"
"Get lost Carter, I'll manage." she laughed pushing him off the bed.
She knew it would be difficult to dress herself but she had asked for a couple items of clothing that were very comfortable and the pants would easily stretch over her swollen foot, leaving it unaffected. She let out a soft sigh "thank goodness for the beauty of lycra" she thought. She felt a lot better in these fresh articles of clothing and lay down to rest her spinning head on the pillow. A sharp knock came on the door, "Abby? you ready?" "I'm coming in.."
Carter remarked, " Well Miss Lockhart you look decidedly better, just like your old self.." he said this while taking in her small form, noticing her loosely flared black pants and white fitted stretch shirt.
He continued, "It looks as if someone helped you right out of that gutter."
"Thanks ' Doc ' "she answered, "and I think that "someone" was you."
"Don't expect a tip for it though; she added trying to keep her tone light.
He smiled to himself, and walked toward her bedside. "Can you stand up?"
"Don't know let's give it a whirl shall we?" She attempted to move her legs to the floor, letting out a pitiful howl when doing so.
"Shit, it really hurts."
He laughed at her colorful use of language and asked her if she was okay.
"Put your arm over my shoulder and lean all your weight on me, I'll help you get started."
"You're going to have to do a lot more than help me get started.." Abby said, "or we're not going anywhere". She could feel the throbbing pain emanating from her foot.
"Oh No, You're not getting off that easily, I'll carry you if I have to."
With that he swiped her up in one fell swoop, and carried her towards the door. She leaned over to grab her coat, hat, and bag before he whisked her out of doors.
The meeting was just as it should've been , sobering. It was an interesting experience actually because it was not the usual location they attended and they had caused a bit of a spectacle in coming in as one form. Carter had placed her gingerly in her seat as he went to retrieve a couple of coffees for them. The older woman sitting nearby turned around and whispered to Abby, "Well it must be nice to have someone sweep you off your feet, literally!" The woman laughed at her own joke and turned away before Abby could explain her injury. She sat quietly absorbing the stories that unfolded before her, regaining some sense of self that she had lost. It was funny how sitting and listening to others stories made you think more clearly about yourself. It made you realize in some offhand way that you should stop being so self- absorbed, because you weren't the only one out there with problems. And if this was the case then turning to alcohol certainly wasn't the only solution either, just as the counselors tried to emphasize at each meeting. Abby turned her head to see Carter engrossed in one of the attendee's speeches. It was so ironic that the roles had changed and he was the one now forcing her to attend a meeting. At least he had gotten better she thought, slowly he had reemerged as the Doctor Carter everyone knew and loved before the Sobricki incident. Actually, that creaton had just come back to the hospital to be treated .Although she had tried her hardest to keep Carter from seeing him it couldn't be prevented and she knew that it was a blow to his senses, that that maniac was allowed to live free. She had been gazing at him for a few minutes causing him to return her gaze, with a look of slight amusement and disapproval on his face. He leaned over to her," Pay attention, or I'll make you stay after class, and then you'll have to walk home." She snapped back to attention grateful that he was by her side, taking all of this in. He reminded her of what was really important when all she could see were the little things. He helped her remember a lot of good things, and encouraged her to push her own limits. She started to focus on what the man up front was telling the room full of recovering people.
~End Part 3~
"Get up now, we're going to a meeting." he said
"What? Carter I can't." she said.
"Listen, you had the will to pick up those beer bottles, and now you're going to find the will to pick yourself up and get to a meeting."
He wasn't backing down on this or letting his emotions get the best of him. She had to start recovery right away; this could be considered a minor relapse. God knows she had been through enough with all that had happened with the attack. He shuddered even now to think. It was a most likely possibility that this could happen and he kicked himself for not seeing it earlier.
She didn't move from her position on the bed, and she simply looked back at him when he glared at her, willing her to get up.
" Dr. Carter," she countered, " You seem to be forgetting I have an injury." She motioned with her head in the direction of her foot. It was expertly wrapped, although the combination of house wares on her leg looked quite funny. She burst out laughing in consideration of the three towels and wooden kitchen spoons that he had used creating a sort of makeshift splint.
He let out a frustrated sigh in seeing that she was somewhat right, but decided that he wasn't going to give up that easily. He wasn't going to make this easy on her. He asked her where her medical supplies were kept and went to get them leaving her confused on the bed.
He returned and rewrapped her foot this time with a few quick butterfly band-aids and a simple wrap around ace bandage. There was some swelling and sensitivity where she had a painful bruise, but nothing that wouldn't heal. he made some quick calls on his cell phone and found out where the closest meeting was being held and when.
Throughout this entire process Abby didn't say a word. She felt like a punished child. She managed only to steal a few guilty glances at his face as he focused intensely on her foot. He caught her glance but looked away in mock disapproval. They shared a small smile but the tension in the air was so thick it couldn't have been cut with a butter knife. No, Abby thought, you'd need a machete to cut through all of this. Things had been said, things she had wanted to express to him every time he had helped her out of jam, but she didn't know how. And then suddenly she did, she must have known how, because he responded in a way that made her believe he understood what she meant. That he understood he was important to her.
Carter felt energized and determined to support her in her recovery. He knew she was going to be okay because he knew 'they' were going to be okay. He had worried a lot about the chasm that had formed and seemed to have grown wider between them as of late. He knew now that he couldn't allow that to happen again and that he wasn't going to. He was glad that Abby had expressed that ' all of this' was intense for her. He knew that feeling all too well, he had felt it for so long. She knew that it was intense, but he didn't know what she took that to mean. Maybe she was still learning, maybe he could show her. Right now they had to get moving.
"Carter I look like I've been beaten with the ugly stick and left in the gutter.. I can't believe you're making me leave the house like this." He rolled his eyes at her and said "It's okay, so you'll frighten a few people here and there, it happens."
"At least bring me some clean clothes to put on." He obliged choosing the items from her closet that she directed him to. His eye caught a very beautiful pale green velvet dress. He had never seen her wear it and felt the quick sting of regret hit his heart. "What about this little number?" he asked her smiling.
" Do you want to live to see your 32nd birthday?!" she threatened.
He snickered and brought the requested items over to her bed. He had really missed this banter of theirs. There was something so natural and satisfying about it , it never felt forced.
"How are you going to err manage this? He asked her hesitantly. "Do you need any help?"
"Get lost Carter, I'll manage." she laughed pushing him off the bed.
She knew it would be difficult to dress herself but she had asked for a couple items of clothing that were very comfortable and the pants would easily stretch over her swollen foot, leaving it unaffected. She let out a soft sigh "thank goodness for the beauty of lycra" she thought. She felt a lot better in these fresh articles of clothing and lay down to rest her spinning head on the pillow. A sharp knock came on the door, "Abby? you ready?" "I'm coming in.."
Carter remarked, " Well Miss Lockhart you look decidedly better, just like your old self.." he said this while taking in her small form, noticing her loosely flared black pants and white fitted stretch shirt.
He continued, "It looks as if someone helped you right out of that gutter."
"Thanks ' Doc ' "she answered, "and I think that "someone" was you."
"Don't expect a tip for it though; she added trying to keep her tone light.
He smiled to himself, and walked toward her bedside. "Can you stand up?"
"Don't know let's give it a whirl shall we?" She attempted to move her legs to the floor, letting out a pitiful howl when doing so.
"Shit, it really hurts."
He laughed at her colorful use of language and asked her if she was okay.
"Put your arm over my shoulder and lean all your weight on me, I'll help you get started."
"You're going to have to do a lot more than help me get started.." Abby said, "or we're not going anywhere". She could feel the throbbing pain emanating from her foot.
"Oh No, You're not getting off that easily, I'll carry you if I have to."
With that he swiped her up in one fell swoop, and carried her towards the door. She leaned over to grab her coat, hat, and bag before he whisked her out of doors.
The meeting was just as it should've been , sobering. It was an interesting experience actually because it was not the usual location they attended and they had caused a bit of a spectacle in coming in as one form. Carter had placed her gingerly in her seat as he went to retrieve a couple of coffees for them. The older woman sitting nearby turned around and whispered to Abby, "Well it must be nice to have someone sweep you off your feet, literally!" The woman laughed at her own joke and turned away before Abby could explain her injury. She sat quietly absorbing the stories that unfolded before her, regaining some sense of self that she had lost. It was funny how sitting and listening to others stories made you think more clearly about yourself. It made you realize in some offhand way that you should stop being so self- absorbed, because you weren't the only one out there with problems. And if this was the case then turning to alcohol certainly wasn't the only solution either, just as the counselors tried to emphasize at each meeting. Abby turned her head to see Carter engrossed in one of the attendee's speeches. It was so ironic that the roles had changed and he was the one now forcing her to attend a meeting. At least he had gotten better she thought, slowly he had reemerged as the Doctor Carter everyone knew and loved before the Sobricki incident. Actually, that creaton had just come back to the hospital to be treated .Although she had tried her hardest to keep Carter from seeing him it couldn't be prevented and she knew that it was a blow to his senses, that that maniac was allowed to live free. She had been gazing at him for a few minutes causing him to return her gaze, with a look of slight amusement and disapproval on his face. He leaned over to her," Pay attention, or I'll make you stay after class, and then you'll have to walk home." She snapped back to attention grateful that he was by her side, taking all of this in. He reminded her of what was really important when all she could see were the little things. He helped her remember a lot of good things, and encouraged her to push her own limits. She started to focus on what the man up front was telling the room full of recovering people.
~End Part 3~