***
Abby woke to the smell of coffee. That poor excuse for a coffee Luka still drank, despite her claims that it tasted like Turkish mud. Maybe she was dreaming. The mattress was softer than hers, the pillows bigger. The sheets didn't feel like hers. And yet, despite the knowledge she shouldn't be there, she was overcome with a sense of home; one she hadn't felt in too long a time. Abby stretched slowly, basking in the feeling. Then she opened her eyes, took in her surroundings. Went back to reality. Right. The drinks, the walk. Luka's place, last night. Carter undoubtedly worried. It looked like the day ahead wasn't going to be an easy one. Abby let out a groan at the realization of all that was lying ahead, and pulled herself out of bed, and out of the room. Shuffled down the stairs.
"Hey, you're up." Luka greeted her, frying pan in hand.
"Hey," Abby said back awkwardly.
"You get a day off today." He stated matter-of-factly, frying her eggs.
"No, I don't." Abby replied. "I was MIA all day yesterday, Weaver's gonna want me there, for a double-shift no less."
"Abby," Luka took on his softest patronizing tone, "I wasn't asking a question. You get today off."
Abby stared at him dubiously. "What time is it?"
"10:30," He affirmed after a quick glance at his wristwatch.
"WHAT?"
"I thought you'd need the sleep." He looked up. "So you're just going to work graveyard shifts next weekend." He served the eggs on a plate.
"O, joy!" Abby exclaimed whilst rolling her eyes.
A quiet moment passed. "I called Carter." Luka suddenly announced, slightly ticked off by her lack of recognition.
"Oh." Abby responded, surprised. "I didn't know you--
"You put him on--
"Right." Abby sat down quickly, at a loss for appropriate reactions.
"You don't want to know what he said?" Luka challenged her, dropping the pan in the sink.
"I have a couple ideas." Abby said, slightly ashamed.
"Yeah." Luka confirmed her implications. "You know you need to talk to him."
Abby snickered under her breath. "Don't I know it."
"Do it, then." He could tell she was unconvinced. "For the reasons you told me last night."
"I was tipsy last night."
Luka's head shot up, and he looked her in the eyes, disbelieving. She said nothing, and lowered her head. "Yeah. Didn't prevent you from finding your way here, though, did it? How long was it since you last came, anyway?"
Abby looked up again after a few moments, with bloodshot eyes. Swallowing a lump, she barely audibly mouthed, "I'll talk to him."
Luka nodded, and offered apologies for his tone in the form of a tight smile. "You should eat." He placed the plate in front of her.
***
Carter was, in theory, scheduled to work at 10, but Deb was doing back a favor, and covered for him until 2.
Kovac had called last night, Abby was at his place. Of course Abby was at his place. With him. It had been almost 1:30, and of *course,* the place you'd expect to find your vanished girlfriend would be her ex's place; that made perfect sense. Told she was asleep, and she was okay, John hadn't asked questions. It was bad enough knowing where she was; if there were any reasons to be found, he'd rather hear them from Abby herself.
He briefly toyed with the idea of calling her this morning, but he knew better of it. What good was that gonna do, when she was obviously running from him? He knew she was safe, that should be enough. It should be enough. Except it wasn't, because knowing she felt safe with Kovac, knowing she had ran from himself, made him feel too unsafe about them for her sole safety to be enough.
***
When he got to the hospital at exactly 1:58, Abby was nowhere to be found. (Again.) John could have done without the nagging sense of déjà-vu. What he also could've gladly done without, was everyone's acting as though they didn't care, as though everything was normal. He'd sworn to himself not to drag Kovac into his and Abby's business, but when he saw the taller man, he had to ask questions. Had to know if she was all right.
"I talked Weaver into giving her today off."
"That's not what I asked."
"I know what you asked. I don't know an answer."
"Oh, you know." Carter accused. "You just won't tell me."
"Look, it's not my place to answer for her. If you've got questions, ask her, not me." Luka stated.
Carter set his jaw for a moment, and looked down embarassed. "I uh... I don't think she'll talk to me."
Luka gave a mild smirk in sympathy. "Just give it time."
***
That same evening when Abby got to her apartment, she knew he'd be there. She knew from the moment he had risen, this morning, he'd been wondering about her. She knew he'd been worrying, knew he'd been entertaining thoughts of her with Luka, and just as soon chastised himself for them. Knew he had struggled with himself not to call, and won. Knew he had struggled with himself not to wait for her tonight, and lost. Knew he wouldn't be getting any rest, knew he'd be blaming himself for everything, if they didn't talk. She knew him by heart; knew she couldn't keep this going. And as she opened the door and walked in, she was wary but resolved.
And there he was, indeed.
"I..." Greetings would have felt out of place. "Had to get away a while."
"What did I do wrong?" John wondered aloud.
"Nothing. But I did nothing right." Abby answered.
"You were perfect."
A smirked flashed across her face, but her heart wasn't really in it. "That's the thing," she said, "that's the thing..."
"I don't understand," he said.
"I don't understand, either," she echoed, "because I'm not perfect, and... I haven't been true."
John stared at Abby's face, and thought he was beginning to understand. His heart fell, slowly, but at a steady pace nonetheless, and silence settled, hanging fearful of the answers to questions better left unasked.
"So you went to him, huh?" He wasn't yelling; but his body language was screaming his ache at the top of his lungs. Abby had never seen him like this before.
"I... I did." Abby sighed. He had to really care, if that had made him this upset.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"And I hate to doubt you... This is hard for me too. You're--you're always around him, or calling him, or whatever... and--and I feel... like you've been gone for a long time."
Abby stared at him, saying nothing.
"You love him, don't you?"
"John..."
"No, tell me, answer me! You think I don't notice the little things, is that what you think? I notice. The looks, the smiles, I notice it all. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't wanna know."
She looked at him for a long time, and lowered her head to answer. "I'm... I'm not sure. I know I have... I'm sorry." She said at last, confirming his fears.
His face fell, and for a moment he had to struggle to not let himself be overcome with the rawness of the feeling. He was almost incredulous. All along he had kept the hope that maybe, maybe he was just getting ideas, letting his imagination run away with him. He had chastised himself on a couple of occasions for not being trusting enough. And then there was the little voice in his head, his own voice, telling himself he'd known all along.
"... and I hope..." She continued a tirade he had been too stunned to hear in its entirety. "I hope you don't love me anymore."
"Wh?" He was just disarmed and confused.
"Because... I know you have," she kept going. "And I'm sorry I never loved you that way. I'm sorry I hurt you."
He looked into her eyes and looked away again immediately. He had hoped she may be lying. But her soul was bare; he could tell that much.
"This is where I'm supposed to give you the whole 'friends' speech, huh?" She chuckled slightly and nervously twitched her mouth. "But it seems... I don't think you want to hear that right about now. I'm... sorry."
He snorted sharply in faked bemusement. "Quit saying that, it's... not your fault, I guess." He looked up from his hands, which he had wrung out of nervousness throughout the conversation, and smiled a little sad, yet encouraging smile.
"Thank you," she mouthed in silence.
He just shrugged, numb and... somewhat relieved, surprisingly. This was the only thing she really wanted, that he could really give her.
He was looking out the window as she retreated towards the door of the apartment, still facing him.
"Goodbye."
He heard the door click shut, and sighed. She was gone.
As empty as he now felt, he was, in a very small place hidden at the back of his mind, glad she was gone. He had never meant to make her unhappy.
"I'll put the key under the rug..." he murmured wistfully to no one.
***
[End part 3]
Abby woke to the smell of coffee. That poor excuse for a coffee Luka still drank, despite her claims that it tasted like Turkish mud. Maybe she was dreaming. The mattress was softer than hers, the pillows bigger. The sheets didn't feel like hers. And yet, despite the knowledge she shouldn't be there, she was overcome with a sense of home; one she hadn't felt in too long a time. Abby stretched slowly, basking in the feeling. Then she opened her eyes, took in her surroundings. Went back to reality. Right. The drinks, the walk. Luka's place, last night. Carter undoubtedly worried. It looked like the day ahead wasn't going to be an easy one. Abby let out a groan at the realization of all that was lying ahead, and pulled herself out of bed, and out of the room. Shuffled down the stairs.
"Hey, you're up." Luka greeted her, frying pan in hand.
"Hey," Abby said back awkwardly.
"You get a day off today." He stated matter-of-factly, frying her eggs.
"No, I don't." Abby replied. "I was MIA all day yesterday, Weaver's gonna want me there, for a double-shift no less."
"Abby," Luka took on his softest patronizing tone, "I wasn't asking a question. You get today off."
Abby stared at him dubiously. "What time is it?"
"10:30," He affirmed after a quick glance at his wristwatch.
"WHAT?"
"I thought you'd need the sleep." He looked up. "So you're just going to work graveyard shifts next weekend." He served the eggs on a plate.
"O, joy!" Abby exclaimed whilst rolling her eyes.
A quiet moment passed. "I called Carter." Luka suddenly announced, slightly ticked off by her lack of recognition.
"Oh." Abby responded, surprised. "I didn't know you--
"You put him on--
"Right." Abby sat down quickly, at a loss for appropriate reactions.
"You don't want to know what he said?" Luka challenged her, dropping the pan in the sink.
"I have a couple ideas." Abby said, slightly ashamed.
"Yeah." Luka confirmed her implications. "You know you need to talk to him."
Abby snickered under her breath. "Don't I know it."
"Do it, then." He could tell she was unconvinced. "For the reasons you told me last night."
"I was tipsy last night."
Luka's head shot up, and he looked her in the eyes, disbelieving. She said nothing, and lowered her head. "Yeah. Didn't prevent you from finding your way here, though, did it? How long was it since you last came, anyway?"
Abby looked up again after a few moments, with bloodshot eyes. Swallowing a lump, she barely audibly mouthed, "I'll talk to him."
Luka nodded, and offered apologies for his tone in the form of a tight smile. "You should eat." He placed the plate in front of her.
***
Carter was, in theory, scheduled to work at 10, but Deb was doing back a favor, and covered for him until 2.
Kovac had called last night, Abby was at his place. Of course Abby was at his place. With him. It had been almost 1:30, and of *course,* the place you'd expect to find your vanished girlfriend would be her ex's place; that made perfect sense. Told she was asleep, and she was okay, John hadn't asked questions. It was bad enough knowing where she was; if there were any reasons to be found, he'd rather hear them from Abby herself.
He briefly toyed with the idea of calling her this morning, but he knew better of it. What good was that gonna do, when she was obviously running from him? He knew she was safe, that should be enough. It should be enough. Except it wasn't, because knowing she felt safe with Kovac, knowing she had ran from himself, made him feel too unsafe about them for her sole safety to be enough.
***
When he got to the hospital at exactly 1:58, Abby was nowhere to be found. (Again.) John could have done without the nagging sense of déjà-vu. What he also could've gladly done without, was everyone's acting as though they didn't care, as though everything was normal. He'd sworn to himself not to drag Kovac into his and Abby's business, but when he saw the taller man, he had to ask questions. Had to know if she was all right.
"I talked Weaver into giving her today off."
"That's not what I asked."
"I know what you asked. I don't know an answer."
"Oh, you know." Carter accused. "You just won't tell me."
"Look, it's not my place to answer for her. If you've got questions, ask her, not me." Luka stated.
Carter set his jaw for a moment, and looked down embarassed. "I uh... I don't think she'll talk to me."
Luka gave a mild smirk in sympathy. "Just give it time."
***
That same evening when Abby got to her apartment, she knew he'd be there. She knew from the moment he had risen, this morning, he'd been wondering about her. She knew he'd been worrying, knew he'd been entertaining thoughts of her with Luka, and just as soon chastised himself for them. Knew he had struggled with himself not to call, and won. Knew he had struggled with himself not to wait for her tonight, and lost. Knew he wouldn't be getting any rest, knew he'd be blaming himself for everything, if they didn't talk. She knew him by heart; knew she couldn't keep this going. And as she opened the door and walked in, she was wary but resolved.
And there he was, indeed.
"I..." Greetings would have felt out of place. "Had to get away a while."
"What did I do wrong?" John wondered aloud.
"Nothing. But I did nothing right." Abby answered.
"You were perfect."
A smirked flashed across her face, but her heart wasn't really in it. "That's the thing," she said, "that's the thing..."
"I don't understand," he said.
"I don't understand, either," she echoed, "because I'm not perfect, and... I haven't been true."
John stared at Abby's face, and thought he was beginning to understand. His heart fell, slowly, but at a steady pace nonetheless, and silence settled, hanging fearful of the answers to questions better left unasked.
"So you went to him, huh?" He wasn't yelling; but his body language was screaming his ache at the top of his lungs. Abby had never seen him like this before.
"I... I did." Abby sighed. He had to really care, if that had made him this upset.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"And I hate to doubt you... This is hard for me too. You're--you're always around him, or calling him, or whatever... and--and I feel... like you've been gone for a long time."
Abby stared at him, saying nothing.
"You love him, don't you?"
"John..."
"No, tell me, answer me! You think I don't notice the little things, is that what you think? I notice. The looks, the smiles, I notice it all. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't wanna know."
She looked at him for a long time, and lowered her head to answer. "I'm... I'm not sure. I know I have... I'm sorry." She said at last, confirming his fears.
His face fell, and for a moment he had to struggle to not let himself be overcome with the rawness of the feeling. He was almost incredulous. All along he had kept the hope that maybe, maybe he was just getting ideas, letting his imagination run away with him. He had chastised himself on a couple of occasions for not being trusting enough. And then there was the little voice in his head, his own voice, telling himself he'd known all along.
"... and I hope..." She continued a tirade he had been too stunned to hear in its entirety. "I hope you don't love me anymore."
"Wh?" He was just disarmed and confused.
"Because... I know you have," she kept going. "And I'm sorry I never loved you that way. I'm sorry I hurt you."
He looked into her eyes and looked away again immediately. He had hoped she may be lying. But her soul was bare; he could tell that much.
"This is where I'm supposed to give you the whole 'friends' speech, huh?" She chuckled slightly and nervously twitched her mouth. "But it seems... I don't think you want to hear that right about now. I'm... sorry."
He snorted sharply in faked bemusement. "Quit saying that, it's... not your fault, I guess." He looked up from his hands, which he had wrung out of nervousness throughout the conversation, and smiled a little sad, yet encouraging smile.
"Thank you," she mouthed in silence.
He just shrugged, numb and... somewhat relieved, surprisingly. This was the only thing she really wanted, that he could really give her.
He was looking out the window as she retreated towards the door of the apartment, still facing him.
"Goodbye."
He heard the door click shut, and sighed. She was gone.
As empty as he now felt, he was, in a very small place hidden at the back of his mind, glad she was gone. He had never meant to make her unhappy.
"I'll put the key under the rug..." he murmured wistfully to no one.
***
[End part 3]