He'd been walking for what seemed like hours.
Why it had seemed like so long, he didn't know. His feet were dragging heavily and his eyes were marked with sleep deprivation, but he didn't care. It was cold outside, as usual. It was Chicago. He didn't expect anything more, or anything less.
His eyes stared blankly ahead, full of determination and alert. Everyone that passed into him was hitting his shoulder with one of his or hers. He didn't pay attention to the fact that he was in their way. He walked in a solid line dark the dark street, not caring to part for anyone who needed to get by. People had already started to mumble things his way under their breath, negative things that should have altered his mood.
Had he noticed.
He was debilitated, exhausted, fatigued. Whichever sounded the worst. But tonight it was impossible to see anything but what he wanted. He knew he was taking a risk in the first place by traveling there anyway.
If a risk was necessary, so be it.
"Hey, honey," someone whispered into his hear. He turned around to see someone completely cloaked in leather. He looked at her for a second, a mischievous smirk set on her face. He kept his steady frown, and it wasn't difficult. She put a hand on his shoulder, but he quickly reached to throw it off and start away again.
He could feel the intense circles under his eyes. He imagined how perfectly his image would fit against tonight's murky scene. The usual combination: dark mysterious strangers, dim lights, and the starless night sky. He wondered how late it was anyway. Too late to walk out in Chicago's dangerous streets? Or lurk among the shadowed alleys? It was never too late. Not for the right people.
He'd been through his share of messes, but what had happened within the last year was insane. He had been through so much. There were some moments where he praised God for what he had given him, and moments where he wished God would take his life. Or even some where he contemplated taking it on his own.
Days where he wondered why he was on earth anyway had passed though. All he was left with was his job, money, and an empty apartment. And a battered friendship with someone that had been so important, so special to him. It wasn't fair that he had ruined everything because of fear.
And to this day he didn't understand the fear that he experienced that night. That one night that changed his life, literally. He remembered being there in front of a bathroom mirror, finally doing what he knew would come for so long: he fell in love with her.
If he thought back hard, he could think of the first time he knew he loved her. He hadn't told himself, but he had just realized that it was the real thing. She thought she was pregnant. He never knew if he had wanted her to be or not, because they were still just a couple. But they had hugged, and he knew he loved her then. That moment gave everything away. It just hadn't hit very hard yet.
He winced as he thought back to that night. Whether it actually hurt, or it was just cruel to him, he couldn't figure out. There were a lot of things that he couldn't translate, but it was all in the past. He figured he could ignore it and move on with life, as long as he remembered not to make any of the same mistakes. Learn from your errors, right? That's what he had done walking down this street so many times.
Each time he planned to end up in the same place, but had turned around and gone home each time. Turning his back to the same lonely scene over and over again. This was the sixth time he had made the trip, and he was determined to come to his final destination this time. He didn't want to end up frowning to his pillow again.
Everything was melting together. The clouds were blurring into one anonymous shape, but it wasn't enough to guard him from reality. The picture of them together was sharp enough in his mind. He hated tearing a world apart from its own set. Whenever he said that to himself, it made sense somehow. He figured it wouldn't make sense to anyone else, and tonight it didn't serve much purpose either. He didn't understand it at all.
It wasn't cold, really. It was humid now. The added moisture there wasn't comforting at all. It surrounded him with heavy, tightened arms that didn't allow him to sway in the natural sense. Instead, he was stuck within a blanket in which brought no added heat, but more pressure to turn around and go home for once.
A siren sounded in the distance, and memories of his job way back when filtered through his mind. The days when meeting her in the exam room wasn't for medical purposes. To fool around or something. He loved that. They were brand new to each other, and then when they weren't, it only got better.
Normally, it should stay that way. Nothing should get worse. Everything in the right book says, "fall in love, get married, live happily ever after." If things had happened the way they were supposed to, how far would they have gone by now? They would have been celebrating nearly one year, perhaps.
He could just imagine building a life with her. Proposing to her, marrying her, having children with her. Everything that he had wanted to do with someone. He knew that this was the person he wanted to do all of these things with. It was a remarkable feeling when you knew the fact. It wasn't, however, the most outstanding thing when you didn't know how to get there.
They had known each other for so long before they hit it off anyway. He was thinking back to it all right now. The first time they had met each other. She was a med student, and he was still a little hung up on Lucy. It was weird to think that now. Before the incident with Sobricki, he had talked to her on the roof. Comforting her when she lost a patient.
She helped him through everything when he came back from Atlanta. She helped him *get there* in the first place. At the time, he hated her for sending him there. He didn't realize how much he would thank her once he came back. As he had said to her, he *could* have been dead. Just look at what happened to his cousin, after all.
And then, they had become friends. Good friends. Within a few months' time, they knew each other inside and out, practically. Best friends, you could say. But things changed when he knew how he felt about her. She started dating Luka and his world started to question some things. He disregarded stuff, and went with jealousy.
In some ways, as selfish and rude as it was, it seemed that Abby had more of a reason to be with Carter than Luka, even if it was as a friend. They connected better than he had seen her and Luka. But, honestly, they were a couple for a long time. He couldn't have known.
When they had been on that bench, and he had told her how he felt, it was subtle in a way. And she had set it aside. They were so close of friends, and he couldn't take it anymore. He had friends, but he needed to be with her. Little did he know that he would have to wait another few months before it was even brought up again.
And another evening at their bench by the river came around. She told him that she felt the same way. He, as stupid as he had been, accused her of not being as serious as he. He hadn't said those words to her face, no, but it was what he was thinking.
And so she walked away again, as he deserved. He didn't think he was worthy of receiving anything from her anymore. But, as his trend followed, he still went on thinking it was her fault that nothing had happened that night.
Soon enough, that story turned into more past and something he didn't want to return to, out of sheer jealousy of Luka and being upset at Abby (over nothing). So he put it away for a while, and sure enough, another obstacle returned to good old Cook County General Hospital, Chicago, Illinois: Susan Lewis. She was an old friend, a good friend, but he had mistaken her for a relationship. Maybe it could have happened before, before she left years ago, but he was hung up on someone else. He knew it, and he thought maybe that she would eventually realize it as well. Wrong, he was indeed.
So, that had been the story behind it all. It ran through his mind like an unwanted song in your head now and he wished deeply to get rid of it. But all he could do now was recognize the uncomfortable patterns in his sweater, if that even mattered.
He looked up at the sky. For the first time tonight. Maybe it wasn't starless. There were *some* stars. Barely any, but they were there. The brightest was stretched out in front of him, shining proudly. He smiled and began walking faster. Wasn't there that story about the North Star? Something about getting you home?
He found himself jogging like an idiot down the street. When he came in front of the building, he didn't waste any time. He pushed open the gate and ran up the stairs. Perspiration building about his temples and eyes, and his hair dampened, he opened the door with the key. He still had it. She had never asked him for it back. Could that have been a sign of something? he wondered now.
The door creaked open, inviting him inside. The hallway was dim downstairs with that feel of oppression onto your eyes. Or something. Maybe there could be a better term for it. He made a mental "never mind" and searched the room for a clue as to where to find her. Not that he needed one. He knew exactly where she lived, where she went to buy her groceries, and where she went to do her laundry. He loved her.
His feet the stairs with force, sending him in a fury up the stairs, two at a time until he couldn't breathe. It was as warm inside as it had been out, but for some reason the heat wasn't as unbearable as it was a minute before, when he was still walking Chicago's streets. Instead it was just an element now that was with the whole journey. Journey. The one he had taken for almost a year now. This was the story's ending. He prayed it'd be the beginning.
The beginning of something good. He had prayed enough. There was only so much God could do before he had to do something himself, right? Step in and become a man, as someone had said to him. Who? He didn't care right now.
Second floor.
--
desperate for changing
--
He wanted to knock, but his fingers were numb. There was a brief second in which he could turn back, but he assumed it passed hours ago. Years ago. It didn't matter. He was standing in front of a door, where someone would determine whether or not... he wanted to open the door.
--
starving for truth
--
He glanced at his watch. Nearly eleven at night. Would it be too late to just knock on the door? He didn't want to wake her up. Oh, who was he kidding? Selfishly, he had to see her. He had to see her and talk to her and tell her something. He could deal with not being able to see her tonight.
No he couldn't.
He was close enough to her now. All he had to do was apologize. He didn't know if she would choose to be with him again, but he would have said he was sorry. For the second time, sure, but this time it was different. He would be clear, open-minded, and ready for whatever she said.
Although, he didn't know how he'd live without her.
--
closer to where i started, chasing after you
--
So, his fingers hit the door. His knuckles, rather. They had turned cold and white form empty anticipation and ached when they met the wood of the door. He almost immediately regretted the action as soon as performed, but stuck around outside anyway. For reasons unknown.
There was rustling in the apartment, and he perked up silently. He felt a rush through his body and automatically attempted to shove away fear. He reminded himself he was still standing here, and that only half of the worse fate could be over.
--
i'm falling even more in love with you, letting go of all i've held on to.
-
"Carter?"
His eyes, already open, saw her answer the door a minute after she did. A smile took shape on his face. He wasn't sure why.
Sure he was.
"Hi," he whispered. His hands tugged nervously at his clothes to his side.
"What are you doing here?" she asked immediately, closing the door slightly as to conceal the rest of the apartment from him.
"I need to see you," he said.
"Is that all?"
They watched the other sit there and stare. He hadn't talked to her in one week, and she hadn't seen him for one week. He wouldn't let it stand in the way; he had to be with her.
"I love you."
Her face softened from her brow pressed, and she adjusted her frame against that of the door. "Okay."
He came forward and took her hands away from her grasp on the door. She watched him pick them up, her eyes darting from her own hands with his to his face as he did so. She looked intently into his eyes, questioning his behavior.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."
She sighed as he rubbed her hands within his own, both watching this activity as he spoke. "I don't know why I did what I did. I wish I hadn't done it."
She sunk a little lower, her head bowing to a different level. She turned her thumbs to hold onto his hands as well, and breathed out again.
"You have to know," he whispered, coming closer, "that I love you more than anything. Do you know that?"
She nodded quickly to his question, but slowly at speed, and whimpered a little. He picked up her chin, looking into her eyes.
"Are you crying?"
She moved her head away, then she fell forward into his shoulder. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her at once. He buried his face deep into her mane of hair that he had fallen in love with long ago, and lost himself in it.
She nodded against him, an answer to an almost forgotten question. He ran a hand down the surface of her back, then up it again. She finally reached up to place a hand on his arm, shuddering against his chest.
She reached up and kissed him on his lips. "Don't ever do it again," she pleaded.
"I don't want to," he said quietly, kissing her back.
As soon as their lips parted again, Abby added, "I love you." Carter watched her speak and leant forward to meet her again. In the middle of this, she pulled him inside and the door shut silently, leaving the quiet hallway to itself again.
--
i'm standing here until you make me move
just hanging by a moment here with you
--
Outside, the same streets were walked upon by the same people. Each as dark and mysterious, as twisted and troubled as the next. The stars aligned against most, but there was one star in the sky that always told the truth.
When Carter finally was tucked into bed with Abby, he pulled her close to him, ascertained not to let her leave his hold. He kissed the back of her neck over and over again, until he fell asleep against her body, his breaths finally even and just.
His life just the same.
--
*the end*
Why it had seemed like so long, he didn't know. His feet were dragging heavily and his eyes were marked with sleep deprivation, but he didn't care. It was cold outside, as usual. It was Chicago. He didn't expect anything more, or anything less.
His eyes stared blankly ahead, full of determination and alert. Everyone that passed into him was hitting his shoulder with one of his or hers. He didn't pay attention to the fact that he was in their way. He walked in a solid line dark the dark street, not caring to part for anyone who needed to get by. People had already started to mumble things his way under their breath, negative things that should have altered his mood.
Had he noticed.
He was debilitated, exhausted, fatigued. Whichever sounded the worst. But tonight it was impossible to see anything but what he wanted. He knew he was taking a risk in the first place by traveling there anyway.
If a risk was necessary, so be it.
"Hey, honey," someone whispered into his hear. He turned around to see someone completely cloaked in leather. He looked at her for a second, a mischievous smirk set on her face. He kept his steady frown, and it wasn't difficult. She put a hand on his shoulder, but he quickly reached to throw it off and start away again.
He could feel the intense circles under his eyes. He imagined how perfectly his image would fit against tonight's murky scene. The usual combination: dark mysterious strangers, dim lights, and the starless night sky. He wondered how late it was anyway. Too late to walk out in Chicago's dangerous streets? Or lurk among the shadowed alleys? It was never too late. Not for the right people.
He'd been through his share of messes, but what had happened within the last year was insane. He had been through so much. There were some moments where he praised God for what he had given him, and moments where he wished God would take his life. Or even some where he contemplated taking it on his own.
Days where he wondered why he was on earth anyway had passed though. All he was left with was his job, money, and an empty apartment. And a battered friendship with someone that had been so important, so special to him. It wasn't fair that he had ruined everything because of fear.
And to this day he didn't understand the fear that he experienced that night. That one night that changed his life, literally. He remembered being there in front of a bathroom mirror, finally doing what he knew would come for so long: he fell in love with her.
If he thought back hard, he could think of the first time he knew he loved her. He hadn't told himself, but he had just realized that it was the real thing. She thought she was pregnant. He never knew if he had wanted her to be or not, because they were still just a couple. But they had hugged, and he knew he loved her then. That moment gave everything away. It just hadn't hit very hard yet.
He winced as he thought back to that night. Whether it actually hurt, or it was just cruel to him, he couldn't figure out. There were a lot of things that he couldn't translate, but it was all in the past. He figured he could ignore it and move on with life, as long as he remembered not to make any of the same mistakes. Learn from your errors, right? That's what he had done walking down this street so many times.
Each time he planned to end up in the same place, but had turned around and gone home each time. Turning his back to the same lonely scene over and over again. This was the sixth time he had made the trip, and he was determined to come to his final destination this time. He didn't want to end up frowning to his pillow again.
Everything was melting together. The clouds were blurring into one anonymous shape, but it wasn't enough to guard him from reality. The picture of them together was sharp enough in his mind. He hated tearing a world apart from its own set. Whenever he said that to himself, it made sense somehow. He figured it wouldn't make sense to anyone else, and tonight it didn't serve much purpose either. He didn't understand it at all.
It wasn't cold, really. It was humid now. The added moisture there wasn't comforting at all. It surrounded him with heavy, tightened arms that didn't allow him to sway in the natural sense. Instead, he was stuck within a blanket in which brought no added heat, but more pressure to turn around and go home for once.
A siren sounded in the distance, and memories of his job way back when filtered through his mind. The days when meeting her in the exam room wasn't for medical purposes. To fool around or something. He loved that. They were brand new to each other, and then when they weren't, it only got better.
Normally, it should stay that way. Nothing should get worse. Everything in the right book says, "fall in love, get married, live happily ever after." If things had happened the way they were supposed to, how far would they have gone by now? They would have been celebrating nearly one year, perhaps.
He could just imagine building a life with her. Proposing to her, marrying her, having children with her. Everything that he had wanted to do with someone. He knew that this was the person he wanted to do all of these things with. It was a remarkable feeling when you knew the fact. It wasn't, however, the most outstanding thing when you didn't know how to get there.
They had known each other for so long before they hit it off anyway. He was thinking back to it all right now. The first time they had met each other. She was a med student, and he was still a little hung up on Lucy. It was weird to think that now. Before the incident with Sobricki, he had talked to her on the roof. Comforting her when she lost a patient.
She helped him through everything when he came back from Atlanta. She helped him *get there* in the first place. At the time, he hated her for sending him there. He didn't realize how much he would thank her once he came back. As he had said to her, he *could* have been dead. Just look at what happened to his cousin, after all.
And then, they had become friends. Good friends. Within a few months' time, they knew each other inside and out, practically. Best friends, you could say. But things changed when he knew how he felt about her. She started dating Luka and his world started to question some things. He disregarded stuff, and went with jealousy.
In some ways, as selfish and rude as it was, it seemed that Abby had more of a reason to be with Carter than Luka, even if it was as a friend. They connected better than he had seen her and Luka. But, honestly, they were a couple for a long time. He couldn't have known.
When they had been on that bench, and he had told her how he felt, it was subtle in a way. And she had set it aside. They were so close of friends, and he couldn't take it anymore. He had friends, but he needed to be with her. Little did he know that he would have to wait another few months before it was even brought up again.
And another evening at their bench by the river came around. She told him that she felt the same way. He, as stupid as he had been, accused her of not being as serious as he. He hadn't said those words to her face, no, but it was what he was thinking.
And so she walked away again, as he deserved. He didn't think he was worthy of receiving anything from her anymore. But, as his trend followed, he still went on thinking it was her fault that nothing had happened that night.
Soon enough, that story turned into more past and something he didn't want to return to, out of sheer jealousy of Luka and being upset at Abby (over nothing). So he put it away for a while, and sure enough, another obstacle returned to good old Cook County General Hospital, Chicago, Illinois: Susan Lewis. She was an old friend, a good friend, but he had mistaken her for a relationship. Maybe it could have happened before, before she left years ago, but he was hung up on someone else. He knew it, and he thought maybe that she would eventually realize it as well. Wrong, he was indeed.
So, that had been the story behind it all. It ran through his mind like an unwanted song in your head now and he wished deeply to get rid of it. But all he could do now was recognize the uncomfortable patterns in his sweater, if that even mattered.
He looked up at the sky. For the first time tonight. Maybe it wasn't starless. There were *some* stars. Barely any, but they were there. The brightest was stretched out in front of him, shining proudly. He smiled and began walking faster. Wasn't there that story about the North Star? Something about getting you home?
He found himself jogging like an idiot down the street. When he came in front of the building, he didn't waste any time. He pushed open the gate and ran up the stairs. Perspiration building about his temples and eyes, and his hair dampened, he opened the door with the key. He still had it. She had never asked him for it back. Could that have been a sign of something? he wondered now.
The door creaked open, inviting him inside. The hallway was dim downstairs with that feel of oppression onto your eyes. Or something. Maybe there could be a better term for it. He made a mental "never mind" and searched the room for a clue as to where to find her. Not that he needed one. He knew exactly where she lived, where she went to buy her groceries, and where she went to do her laundry. He loved her.
His feet the stairs with force, sending him in a fury up the stairs, two at a time until he couldn't breathe. It was as warm inside as it had been out, but for some reason the heat wasn't as unbearable as it was a minute before, when he was still walking Chicago's streets. Instead it was just an element now that was with the whole journey. Journey. The one he had taken for almost a year now. This was the story's ending. He prayed it'd be the beginning.
The beginning of something good. He had prayed enough. There was only so much God could do before he had to do something himself, right? Step in and become a man, as someone had said to him. Who? He didn't care right now.
Second floor.
--
desperate for changing
--
He wanted to knock, but his fingers were numb. There was a brief second in which he could turn back, but he assumed it passed hours ago. Years ago. It didn't matter. He was standing in front of a door, where someone would determine whether or not... he wanted to open the door.
--
starving for truth
--
He glanced at his watch. Nearly eleven at night. Would it be too late to just knock on the door? He didn't want to wake her up. Oh, who was he kidding? Selfishly, he had to see her. He had to see her and talk to her and tell her something. He could deal with not being able to see her tonight.
No he couldn't.
He was close enough to her now. All he had to do was apologize. He didn't know if she would choose to be with him again, but he would have said he was sorry. For the second time, sure, but this time it was different. He would be clear, open-minded, and ready for whatever she said.
Although, he didn't know how he'd live without her.
--
closer to where i started, chasing after you
--
So, his fingers hit the door. His knuckles, rather. They had turned cold and white form empty anticipation and ached when they met the wood of the door. He almost immediately regretted the action as soon as performed, but stuck around outside anyway. For reasons unknown.
There was rustling in the apartment, and he perked up silently. He felt a rush through his body and automatically attempted to shove away fear. He reminded himself he was still standing here, and that only half of the worse fate could be over.
--
i'm falling even more in love with you, letting go of all i've held on to.
-
"Carter?"
His eyes, already open, saw her answer the door a minute after she did. A smile took shape on his face. He wasn't sure why.
Sure he was.
"Hi," he whispered. His hands tugged nervously at his clothes to his side.
"What are you doing here?" she asked immediately, closing the door slightly as to conceal the rest of the apartment from him.
"I need to see you," he said.
"Is that all?"
They watched the other sit there and stare. He hadn't talked to her in one week, and she hadn't seen him for one week. He wouldn't let it stand in the way; he had to be with her.
"I love you."
Her face softened from her brow pressed, and she adjusted her frame against that of the door. "Okay."
He came forward and took her hands away from her grasp on the door. She watched him pick them up, her eyes darting from her own hands with his to his face as he did so. She looked intently into his eyes, questioning his behavior.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."
She sighed as he rubbed her hands within his own, both watching this activity as he spoke. "I don't know why I did what I did. I wish I hadn't done it."
She sunk a little lower, her head bowing to a different level. She turned her thumbs to hold onto his hands as well, and breathed out again.
"You have to know," he whispered, coming closer, "that I love you more than anything. Do you know that?"
She nodded quickly to his question, but slowly at speed, and whimpered a little. He picked up her chin, looking into her eyes.
"Are you crying?"
She moved her head away, then she fell forward into his shoulder. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her at once. He buried his face deep into her mane of hair that he had fallen in love with long ago, and lost himself in it.
She nodded against him, an answer to an almost forgotten question. He ran a hand down the surface of her back, then up it again. She finally reached up to place a hand on his arm, shuddering against his chest.
She reached up and kissed him on his lips. "Don't ever do it again," she pleaded.
"I don't want to," he said quietly, kissing her back.
As soon as their lips parted again, Abby added, "I love you." Carter watched her speak and leant forward to meet her again. In the middle of this, she pulled him inside and the door shut silently, leaving the quiet hallway to itself again.
--
i'm standing here until you make me move
just hanging by a moment here with you
--
Outside, the same streets were walked upon by the same people. Each as dark and mysterious, as twisted and troubled as the next. The stars aligned against most, but there was one star in the sky that always told the truth.
When Carter finally was tucked into bed with Abby, he pulled her close to him, ascertained not to let her leave his hold. He kissed the back of her neck over and over again, until he fell asleep against her body, his breaths finally even and just.
His life just the same.
--
*the end*