Until A Brighter Day

by christyedna

Post-ep for "Tell Me Where It Hurts."

TITLE: Until A Brighter Day

AUTHOR: christyedna

RATING: I suppose I'm obligated to say R. (Since when is love dirty?)

SPOILERS: This is post-ep for "Tell Me Where It Hurts." Blissfully, I managed to get it written before "First Snowfall" aired, so it's not going to ruin anything after that.

ARCHIVE: I'll most likely give permission if you ask. If you don't, and I find out, then whatever happens to you as a result is your fault. (Do you really wanna mess with someone who believes in the Law of Three?)

DISCLAIMERS: I'll claim to have written this and I'll claim to have whined for a week and a half about nonstop writer's block, but I'm not gonna dare claim to own Carter or Abby or anything else ER related. I don't want Michael Crichton to sue me and be too busy to work on ER, so I'm going to state plainly: This was done for my entertainment and Mel's. If you happen to like it, I guess it was meant for your entertainment as well. (Mel, in case you're wondering, is my beta, and I'm officially using this disclaimer as a way to tell her that it's her weekend with the voices. I have a hockey game to go to.)

FEEDBACK: If I don't get any, you don't get any. (More fic, that is.) My livejournal username is christyedna and my AIM SN is ThisIsEdnaB. My web page is http://www.stormpages.com/christyedna (you can get my email from there; I get enough spam as it is).

'if along the way you are growing weary
you can rest with me until a brighter day'

-dave matthews band, "where are you going?"

"Promise? Cause I really need something to hang on to right now."

"I'm not going anywhere."

His words echoed in my head, their weight like bricks, for almost a minute. I sat there dumbly while the numbers changed on the VCR. His hand didn't stop the whole time. Moving in circles, up and down, back and forth, randomly. I pulled my hand away from my chin and ran my finger around the edge of the wineglass. I sighed and lifted my eyes from the Merlot to Carter. "I can't believe I almost drank that," I whispered.

He picked up my hand from the stemware and held it. "You didn't, though. That's what's important."

I couldn't think of anything to say. All I wanted was for him to keep holding my hand like that, or… Something… I didn't know what.

"You gonna be okay?"

I looked up at him again and he appeared sad. I didn't know why; maybe it was because he's seen for himself that my brother's a nice guy and that he didn't deserve to have to go through this. "I can't tell yet."

"You want to be alone?"

I wanted to answer him. I wanted to say, "Never," but I only shook my head. Carter, bless him, understood what I really meant and stood up so we could move to the couch. I felt like a very small child doing it, but I let him pull me into his lap and hold me. "Can I ask you something personal?" I finally said.

"You don't really need permission, you know," he answered. I had to smile because of the joking tone of his voice, but I knew we were both serious.

"I know," I whispered. "But it's a big something."

"Go ahead," Carter said. He kissed my hair; it's funny how he can do that whenever he wants. He's so much taller than I am.

"Did you mean what you said before?" I pulled myself up so I could look him in the eye.

"What part of it?"

"Any part of it."

"Not any part of it," Carter said as he shook his head. "All of it."

This was starting to sound silly. "You want to know if I'm asking whether you meant all of it or part of it?"

Carter smiled. "No, no. I wanted to say that I meant all of it. Whatever it takes, I'm with you."

I leaned into him again and held him tightly. He just sat there and let me absorb it - he's amazing.

"Abby," he whispered.

"What?" My voice was just as quiet as his was and I hadn't dared move.

"Can you let me up for a second?"

I stood to let him rise, and he towered over me like always. He lifted his hands to my face and looked down at me. "I'll be right back," he whispered. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and walked down the hall.

I sank back down into the couch and pulled my hair from its elastic band. I was getting a headache for the third time that day. I stood up again and walked into the kitchen for some water. As I leaned against the counter to drink it, Carter reappeared. He walked to the table and picked up that stupid wineglass, then poured its contents in the sink. He stood next to me and held my hand while I finished my drink.

He squeezed my fingers lightly. "You took your hair down."

I nodded. "My head hurts." I put the glass on the counter and looked up at him. "Make it go away."

There might have been tears in his eyes, but I couldn't tell because he reached for me again. "You don't know how badly I want to," he whispered into my hair. "You know I'd do it in a heartbeat if I thought I could."

All I could do was nod into his chest and try to figure out how he could be so affected by this. "Are you okay, Carter?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "It hurts to see you so upset and know I can't really do anything about it." He'd started running his hand up and down my back again.

"You'd think it would be easier than this. I mean, I saw it coming." I stopped talking; I was starting to cry again.

Carter must have sensed this because he held me tighter for a second and ran his hand down the side of my face. "Honey, you might have seen it, but we both know you were hoping for all of this to be a false alarm." We were both quiet for a second, and then he spoke again. "I wanted the same thing. I'm still hoping to hear that phone." He leaned me back and stared down at me. "I don't think it's going to happen tonight." I hated those words for forming and hated them even more for coming out his mouth. "I think what you need is a hot bath and a good night's sleep."

"I am tired," I managed. "I think I'm going to take a raincheck on that bath, though."

"Too late," Carter replied. "You're getting the package deal tonight." He squeezed my fingers. "Come on - tub's almost full."

One of my favorite things about the brownstone was the bathroom. It was pretty large for a place with only two bedrooms, and it had this massive bathtub that was big enough for both of us with tons of room to spare. I think two sumo wrestlers would have been able to be comfortable in that tub.

I smiled at his thoughtfulness - not only had he run a bath, he'd lit candles and dragged the CD player from the bedroom into the bathroom. We stood there in the steam for a few minutes, then Carter turned me around so I was facing away from him. He picked up a brush and ran it through my hair, then pulled it into a loose braid to keep it from getting wet. The next thing he did was kneel down on the floor and peel my socks off my feet, which was pretty much an indication that the rest of my clothing - and his - was doomed to the same fate.

Twenty-three seconds later, he was holding my hand while I stepped into the tub. We sank down at about the same time, literally up to our necks in the water, and he pulled me against his chest. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, which was much easier now that I wasn't alone. He wrapped his arms around my abdomen, with his hands clasped together over my solar plexus. "God, I don't know how I would have gotten through this day without you," I finally said.

Carter kissed my head again. "You would have done fine," he answered. "You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"Some days I think that's only because I have you to keep me strong," I replied.

"You would have been fine," Carter repeated.

"Yeah, and drunk." I craned my neck to look up at him. "You saw that bottle."

"I also saw the expression on your face and heard you say how hard it was for you even to get to that point." His thumb moved back and forth over my wet skin. "You didn't need me to help you, baby. You did it on your own." He'd raised his knee above the water level and was using his toes to tickle the bottom of my foot.

"Hey, no fair," I exclaimed, digging my elbow into his ribs.

"Jesus," Carter hissed. "You should have warned me you like to play rough."

The CD changed exactly then. The music got slower and Carter ran his hands up and down my arms. "You really need to relax," he whispered into my ear, then trailed light kisses down my neck. "Just close your eyes and let me take care of you."

The song that had just come on was U2's "One," which was a favorite of mine. I took advantage of the warm water and Carter's hands massaging the tension out of my shoulders, and lost myself in Bono's voice. Carter eventually started singing along quietly, and I smiled to myself. He's no Pavarotti, but he's all mine.

The song ended and the room got quiet for a second; Carter must have set the player to random. I'd burned this CD a few months ago wen I was in the mood for some emo, but I hadn't listened to it since and forgot what was on it. God only knew where he'd dug it up.

I breathed in heavily when the gentle waltzy piano filled the room. "I've heard this somewhere," Carter mused.

I nodded and leaned into his strokes. "Shrek," I replied. "It's from the soundtrack." We listened quietly for a few seconds, then Carter reached for the remote control to start the song over.

"Who sings this?" he asked. "It's pretty."

"Rufus Wainwright." I reached up to take hold of Carter's hand on my shoulder and threaded my fingers tightly through his. He was humming the chorus and rocking me gently in time to the music. Between the song and the gently moving flames and Carter's warmth surrounding me, I felt completely safe and whole. It would have been perfect if the stupid water hadn't started getting cold.

"You ready for bed?" Carter whispered. I nodded against his chest. I didn't want to move to quickly and break the movement.

Carter sensed this and helped me to stand. We stepped onto the bath mat together and he grabbed a couple of towels while I pulled the drain plug. Before I'd managed to stand up straight, he had my shoulders wrapped in the towel and was rubbing the drops of water from my skin. "You're going to spoil me," I whispered, smiling at him in thanks.

"So?" He separated the strands of hair at the back of my head and smoothed them down my back. I barely had time to register the look in his eyes before he leaned in to kiss me.

I'd be willing to bet my life that John Carter has the softest mouth ever, and here was proof. I'm never going to get tired of kissing this man. After a minute, he let go of my mouth and smiled at me. "You feel better?" he asked.

"A million times better." I looked up at him and pulled his lips back down to mine. "Thank you," I whispered as we parted.

"I'm not done," Carter answered. He blew out all but the largest candle, then took my hand and walked me to the bedroom. He'd left the CD player going; we could still hear it as I watched out shadows dancing across the walls. He placed the candle on the table next to the bed and sat down, then pulled me into his lap.

We were quiet for a few seconds, just holding on to each other. After a while Carter sighed, and then breathed out my name. I'd never heard anyone say anything that sounded so reverent before.

I raised my eyebrows. "What?"

"Your name sounds so beautiful to me," he whispered. I couldn't hide my happiness at being here with him, or my yawn. "You tired?"

"You wanted me to relax," I kidded gently.

Carter chuckled lightly. Somehow he managed to get us both lying down and under the covers without actually letting go of me.

The sheets were cold - he'd turned down the bed more than an hour ago. We had this habit of tracing silly patterns on each other's skin to keep warm. Tonight Carter was making a row of stars across my shoulders.

The bed heated up very quickly under his ministrations. We'd begun another round of tickling each other's feet, which I won by finally getting him to laugh. I gave him a couple of seconds to catch his breath, then leaned down over his face to kiss him. My hands were still roving over his skin, alternating between his ribs and the back of his leg. I changed directions after a second, sliding my fingertips slowly up the inside of his thigh. His free hand had been running through my hair, which I love, but he suddenly stopped that and grabbed a fistful of it - not pulling, just needing something to grab on to. "Make love to me," I whispered against his mouth. The command itself was barely audible but there was no way he could have misinterpreted it, not with my hand still tracing its path. Carter groaned as I forced him onto his back and lifted my leg over him. "Make love to me, Carter," I repeated.

His hands were still buried in my hair as he guided my face back to his, He slid his hands from my scalp to stroke up and down my back slowly. "You don't have to ask twice, Abby," he whispered as he trailed kisses down my throat.

He and I have been together for a couple of months and I still have no idea in the world how he figured out exactly how much I loved it when he did that, but he did and I'm still amazed by him every time we so much as touch. When he said earlier that he'd be there for me, something in my heart told me he meant it. It was a wonderful feeling because I wasn't at all afraid to believe him. That fact would have sent me packing if it had been anyone other than Carter.

I poured my emotions out to him through my hands and each one of my kisses. After a few more minutes of gentle stroking, we were both growing more aroused and less patient. I raised my body over his, then reached down between us to guide him inside me and sank against his hips slowly. We slid together perfectly, like we were meant to spend the rest of our lives connected this way. After a second I started to rock back and forth, keeping my movements gentle and deliberate, and maintaining eye contact with him the entire time.

"You feel so good," Carter whispered as I continued to watch his eyes. He raised his body off the bed, which in turn lifted me up higher.

"Jesus," I hissed, "that's amazing."

"Let's leave Jesus out of it," Carter whispered, repeating the action. "I'd much rather be with you than him."

I smiled down at him as I ran my nails down his sides. "Only you would joke about that at a time like this," I quipped, rocking hard against him.

"You want some other brand of humor?" He ran his hands from my hips up around my ribs, then pulled me down for a long kiss.

"Carter," I moaned brokenly, "I want you. I just want you." I stared down at him. "I don't want the doctor or the friend or even just the lover. I want all of you." We were still holding each other's gaze and keeping up the gentle rhythm. I reached down to brush my fingers over his mouth. "You're all I want," I whispered as a tear fell down my face. "You're all I'm going to want." I leaned down to kiss him once more, then took his hands in mine and made sure he knew what I was about to do. I shivered at a particularly deep thrust and squeezed his hands in a death grip. "Carter, I love you," I whispered. "God, I love you so much, you don't even know." I was crying hard now - seeing the look on his face as I'd spoken those words was the most intense thing I have or ever will feel. "I love you," I said again, fighting to keep eye contact as he pushed me toward the edge.

"Come for me," he whispered. "Come on." He gave one final thrust and I swear I felt every surge of his orgasm right along with my own. I had to fight hard to maintain eye contact with him, and finally lost it as I collapsed on top of him.

We stayed like that for a long time. After a while the candle grew dim and finally went out, I wasn't sure if Carter was still awake, so I stayed still. I waited for my breathing to slow down and eventually I lost track of the blood throbbing through the veins in my feet. I was growing sleepy, so I kissed Carter's neck quietly and closed my eyes.

"I love you," he whispered back. "I shouldn't have waited so long to say it when I've wanted to for weeks."

"I knew the whole time," I managed sleepily. "Before you even opened your mouth, I knew."

The last thing I remembered were his arms around me and a kiss on my temple. I guess finally getting our feelings out in the open gave our souls a chance for some rest.

Asleep in each other's arms, neither one of us needed to dream that night.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Not my first fanfic, but the first one I've had the stones to actually post. If you hate it, blame Mel. She talked me into it. If you love it, thank Mel. She talked me into it.

Also of note, it's a lot easier to read the naughty bits than it is to write them. Not that I'll stop doing either one.

Regarding the title, I racked my brain for hours. Hours. I'm not kidding. On the way in to the library to post the story, the last song I heard on the radio was the Dave Matthews Band's "Where Are You Going?" and it just seemed to fit. The other songs that seem to fit are "Hawkmoon 269," by U2, and "Hallelujah," by Rufus Wainwright. I listened to those two songs constantly while writing, and I can be sure that it's a good thing the apartment next to mine is empty. If it hadn't been, I would have lost a potential friend and gained a crazy neighbor.