He was in the middle of the dark. No light, whatsoever. Something was against his foot, and something was above him.
"John."
He felt it against his face. It was her, her breath against his face.
"John," she eased. "You need to get up."
Her lips were upon his. He didn't act back the first time, but there was always a second. She kissed him lightly twice, the second time when he was able to reciprocate. His eyes slowly revealed Abby above his face. Her gentle facade, with her hair curling around it as she bent her head.
"Hey beautiful," he whispered groggily.
"Ha," she said.
"You're perfect," he said. He kissed her again. Her hand met his back and carefully pulled him up. He glanced at the his side and saw the clock on the nightstand. "Abby, it's only four." He put his hands over his face and fell back to the pillow.
"Weaver called," she said apologetically. "We're both on at five. It was either that or four, and I figured you could use one extra hour of sleep - "
"She just called at this time?" he questioned.
She nodded. "Sorry, John. But you gotta get up. You can use the shower, I already did."
He nodded as well and smiled. "Early shift. The best."
"You bet," she said. Sarcasm. It was cute and it worked with them. "Come on, sleepyhead."
He smiled at her once more and kissed the top of her justly dampened hair. He brung his feet to the side of the bed and walked to the bathroom.
--
"We should've walked," he said.
"Why?"
"Because when the L is late," he said, "it's late."
She shook her head. "Here it comes."
"Okay," he said.
The noise in the distance was muffled, but it became stronger. Stronger until it was the only thing you could hear. He gripped her hand tightly and awaited the stop of the train. It halted abruptly and slid its heavy, old doors to them.
They stood inside, surrounded by the wild, but usual Windy City crowd. The ordinary ride to work on the L. The crazed, but at the same time quiet woman in the corner. The couple who appear to be on a no-talking basis kind of thing, and the man who looks like a serial killer until you look at him. Then he smiles.
Abby was leaning against his chest and closing her eyes. "I'm exhausted."
"I can tell," he said tenderly. "When did she call?"
"About three," she answered.
"You've been up since then?"
She nodded into him. He shook his head and kissed the top of hers. He rubbed her back and pulled her into a one-armed hug. When the train came to a stop, he saw that she was asleep. He laughed to himself and shook her shoulder gently.
"Abby?"
She slid awake immediately. "Sorry," she laughed. She yawned then and closed her eyes briefly.
He picked her up, and she, surprised, became startled and hooked her arms around his neck.
"John," she giggled. "Put me down."
He chuckled. "I'll just carry you there."
"John - "
"Shh," he motioned. She didn't argue after a moment's stare and let her head fall against his neck. It was the best feeling, no matter how much she weighed (which wasn't a lot), no matter how cold it was or how warm.
Cradling her like the precious cargo, as she pretty much was, he kissed her with a smile. She was asleep. Poor thing, he thought. He reached the hospital, and volunteered silently to carry her the rest of the way inside.
"Carter!"
He turned to see Weaver coming toward him, Pratt at her side.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Is she okay?" Pratt suggested.
"She's fine," he whispered. "Just tired. She's had two hours of sleep."
"Nice," Pratt said, his eyebrows raised.
"Pratt, do you have somewhere to be?" Carter asked.
"Foreign object in the - "
"You promised no more pen-in-the-ass patients, man," Pratt groaned.
"You earned it," she said. With a glare, she had him walking to exam one as she instructed. "I'm really sorry, Carter, but she's gotta get up. We're short a few nurses."
He nodded. "Okay."
"Abby," he said. "Abby." He smiled, remembering the exact routine she had put to him about an hour earlier. He kissed her gently.
"John?" she asked. "How long have I been here?"
He laughed. "We just got here."
"Oh, God," she said. "No one expected anything? Is Susan here?"
"I didn't see her," he said. "The worst it gets is Pratt."
She giggled sleepily and turned her head to the side on the couch. "Errr," she sighed.
"Early shift," he said.
"Yuck."
"John."
He felt it against his face. It was her, her breath against his face.
"John," she eased. "You need to get up."
Her lips were upon his. He didn't act back the first time, but there was always a second. She kissed him lightly twice, the second time when he was able to reciprocate. His eyes slowly revealed Abby above his face. Her gentle facade, with her hair curling around it as she bent her head.
"Hey beautiful," he whispered groggily.
"Ha," she said.
"You're perfect," he said. He kissed her again. Her hand met his back and carefully pulled him up. He glanced at the his side and saw the clock on the nightstand. "Abby, it's only four." He put his hands over his face and fell back to the pillow.
"Weaver called," she said apologetically. "We're both on at five. It was either that or four, and I figured you could use one extra hour of sleep - "
"She just called at this time?" he questioned.
She nodded. "Sorry, John. But you gotta get up. You can use the shower, I already did."
He nodded as well and smiled. "Early shift. The best."
"You bet," she said. Sarcasm. It was cute and it worked with them. "Come on, sleepyhead."
He smiled at her once more and kissed the top of her justly dampened hair. He brung his feet to the side of the bed and walked to the bathroom.
--
"We should've walked," he said.
"Why?"
"Because when the L is late," he said, "it's late."
She shook her head. "Here it comes."
"Okay," he said.
The noise in the distance was muffled, but it became stronger. Stronger until it was the only thing you could hear. He gripped her hand tightly and awaited the stop of the train. It halted abruptly and slid its heavy, old doors to them.
They stood inside, surrounded by the wild, but usual Windy City crowd. The ordinary ride to work on the L. The crazed, but at the same time quiet woman in the corner. The couple who appear to be on a no-talking basis kind of thing, and the man who looks like a serial killer until you look at him. Then he smiles.
Abby was leaning against his chest and closing her eyes. "I'm exhausted."
"I can tell," he said tenderly. "When did she call?"
"About three," she answered.
"You've been up since then?"
She nodded into him. He shook his head and kissed the top of hers. He rubbed her back and pulled her into a one-armed hug. When the train came to a stop, he saw that she was asleep. He laughed to himself and shook her shoulder gently.
"Abby?"
She slid awake immediately. "Sorry," she laughed. She yawned then and closed her eyes briefly.
He picked her up, and she, surprised, became startled and hooked her arms around his neck.
"John," she giggled. "Put me down."
He chuckled. "I'll just carry you there."
"John - "
"Shh," he motioned. She didn't argue after a moment's stare and let her head fall against his neck. It was the best feeling, no matter how much she weighed (which wasn't a lot), no matter how cold it was or how warm.
Cradling her like the precious cargo, as she pretty much was, he kissed her with a smile. She was asleep. Poor thing, he thought. He reached the hospital, and volunteered silently to carry her the rest of the way inside.
"Carter!"
He turned to see Weaver coming toward him, Pratt at her side.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Is she okay?" Pratt suggested.
"She's fine," he whispered. "Just tired. She's had two hours of sleep."
"Nice," Pratt said, his eyebrows raised.
"Pratt, do you have somewhere to be?" Carter asked.
"Foreign object in the - "
"You promised no more pen-in-the-ass patients, man," Pratt groaned.
"You earned it," she said. With a glare, she had him walking to exam one as she instructed. "I'm really sorry, Carter, but she's gotta get up. We're short a few nurses."
He nodded. "Okay."
"Abby," he said. "Abby." He smiled, remembering the exact routine she had put to him about an hour earlier. He kissed her gently.
"John?" she asked. "How long have I been here?"
He laughed. "We just got here."
"Oh, God," she said. "No one expected anything? Is Susan here?"
"I didn't see her," he said. "The worst it gets is Pratt."
She giggled sleepily and turned her head to the side on the couch. "Errr," she sighed.
"Early shift," he said.
"Yuck."