It's a WondERful Life
AUTHOR: Emma Stuart CATEGORY: Romance/Drama SPOILERS: None DISCLAIMER: I do not own ER, or any of the characters. I also don't own the movie I have borrowed from shamelessly, but that hasn't stopped me yet.
SUMMARY: When she contemplates taking her life just before Christmas, Abby finds some unexpected help from a former colleague.
ARCHIVE: Ask and ye shall receive
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm back from vacation, and back in the saddle. Thanks for the reviews and emails-they acted like a kick in the pants to get me writing again.
Chapter 4. In the Bleak Midwinter
"No, I've just always wanted to say that." Mark grinned at her, and took a firmer grasp of her hand. "Let's go-now."
Abby shrank back. "Go where? I'm not so sure I like this."
Mark continued smiling at her. "This from the woman who said 'Forget Superman, I'll take Mark Green'?"
Abby blushed and shrugged. "Hey, you were dead. I didn't think you were listening. But seriously, I don't want to do this."
"No longer your choice," Mark replied grimly. "Hold on, we're going." Fog swirled up around them; it was pretty amazing for such a clear, cold evening. With a flash of light and a rumble of thunder, they found themselves standing outside a squalid apartment building.
"Wow, that was some special effects-how did you do that?" Abby gaped at Mark in amazement.
"Trade secret. It's some sort of slide through time-I can't explain it. Damn it, Jim, I was a doctor, not a mad scientist." Mark grinned at her, then sobered. "Now, on with the job at hand-do you recognize where we are?"
Abby nodded grimly. "I sure do. It's one of the apartments I lived in while I was growing up." Even in the darkness, she could see that the building was deserted, the entryway strewn with garbage and overgrown with weeds. "Looks like it's abandoned."
"Actually, it's condemned. Scheduled to be torn down next week." Mark looked at her intently. "Something significant happened here, when you were a child. Do you remember?"
Abby stepped away from him and crossed her arms over her chest. She swallowed before she replied, "Maggie-my mother was off her medication, and acting crazy. She chased my brother and me around the apartment with a knife."
Mark nodded. "That's right-and you were able to get Eric into a closet and lock both of you in until she calmed down, right?" He furrowed his brow and quickly continued, "But, no, wait, since you were never born, it didn't quite happen that way."
She peered up at him intently, and then asked slowly, "What are you talking about?"
"Well, like you said, Maggie had't taken her medication, and she did chase Eric around the apartment with a knife. But Eric didn't make it into the closet-"
"Oh, no," Abby interrupted, "I don't want to hear this!"
Mark continued relentlessly, "He didn't make it into the closet. Maggie slipped on the hall rug and fell on him, and stabbed him by accident."
Abby was crying now, tears falling slowly down her face. "Was he-"
"He died before the ambulance could arrive." Mark scuffed his shoe along the ground as Abby continued to cry silently. He looked solemnly into her eyes. "There's more."
"More?" Abby ran her hands through her hair, and clasped her hands behind her neck. "What else could you possibly tell me?"
"The police didn't believe it was an accident. Neighbors claimed they could hear Maggie screaming that she was going to kill Eric if she caught him."
Abby stared at him. "But she always said things like that when she was enraged. No one believed her. How could they? She was-"
"Sick? Crazy?" Mark finished the sentence for her. "That's exactly what the district attorney argued when they prosecuted her for manslaughter."
Abby wiped her face with both hands. "Where is she now?"
"In a psychiatric ward-she's been there for nearly 20 years, with little hope of parole. Her mental condition keeps deteriorating, and she can remember little of what has happened in her life." Mark crossed his arms on his chest. "I guess in a way that that is blessing." He looked at her intently. "Do you want to see her?"
"Oh, no, no-" Abby backed away from him.
"Abby, you really need to see her," Mark replied.
Before she could answer, she was standing next to Mark in a small room resembling a prison cell; it was stark, with bare walls and the minimum amount of furniture: a bed a chair, and a table. Someone sat on the bed, rocking.
Abby looked at Mark in disbelief. "Is she.?"
He nodded at her. "It's Maggie."
The woman sitting on the bed looked like she was about 70 years old, with unkempt gray hair and mussed clothes. She glanced up at Abby and Mark with a vacant stare. "Is it time to eat?" she asked in a dreamy voice.
Abby knelt beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Mom?" she asked hesitantly, "Mom, it's me, Abby."
Maggie shrunk away from her. "Abby who?"
Mark quickly intervened by stating, "She doesn't know you, remember? You don't exist-you weren't at that apartment to save your brother's life, or to keep your mother from doing something horrible because you were never born. Eric is gone, and your mother is lost to reality."
Abby glared up at him. "What do you mean? She'll get better, won't she?"
Mark spread his hands in front of him. "Why should she? What does she have to live for anymore? Her son's dead and she's imprisoned without hope of parole."
Abby turned back to her mother. "Mom," she tried again.
"Abby, this is pointless." Mark exclaimed. "She doesn't know you," he repeated emphatically.
"I don't believe you," Abby exclaimed. "Mom, you've got to recognize me."
Maggie looked very frightened, and pushed Abby's hands away from her. Flattening herself against the wall behind the bed, she cried out in an agitated voice, "I don't know you! Who are you? Why are you bothering me?" A maniacal gleam entered her eyes and she crowed, "You're here to hurt me, aren't you? I knew you'd come!" Her voice rose to a shout "Help! Nurse! Someone! Help me!"
"We've got to go now." Mark grabbed Abby by the shoulders and pulled her against him. With another burst of light, they stood outside the familiar emergency room doors of County General. Mark put both arms around Abby and let her cry until she calmed down.
"How could such a thing happen?" she sobbed helplessly.
Mark replied calmly, "You weren't there, remember?" He hesitated, and continued, "You were the glue that held your family together, Abby. Without you there, the family fell apart." He paused and said, "Are you ready to go in?"
"Go in?" Abby repeated dully.
Mark inclined his head toward the hospital. "There's more for you to see."
Abby shook her head vehemently. "What could you possibly show me in County General? I made no difference there whatsoever-hell, I couldn't even complete my training as a doctor. I was a nurse."
"Oh, Abby," Mark chided her. "Do you really believe that?" He reached for her and clasped her hand. "C'mon."
Another flash of light and they stood inside County General, adjacent to the hospital birthing rooms. Mark crossed his arms and explained, "How about all of those births that you assisted-some of those difficult ones, where the baby was breech or there were problems with the umbilical cord? You saved a lot of lives through your decisions and your quick intervention." He sighed heavily. "Of course, some of those babies didn't make it because you weren't there to intervene."
Abby looked at him in disbelief. "There were other nurses to help-"
"But not you." Mark responded firmly. "And do you even realize the difference you made in the Emergency Room?" At her blank look, he nodded toward the stairs. "C'mon, let's go see."
AUTHOR: Emma Stuart CATEGORY: Romance/Drama SPOILERS: None DISCLAIMER: I do not own ER, or any of the characters. I also don't own the movie I have borrowed from shamelessly, but that hasn't stopped me yet.
SUMMARY: When she contemplates taking her life just before Christmas, Abby finds some unexpected help from a former colleague.
ARCHIVE: Ask and ye shall receive
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm back from vacation, and back in the saddle. Thanks for the reviews and emails-they acted like a kick in the pants to get me writing again.
Chapter 4. In the Bleak Midwinter
"No, I've just always wanted to say that." Mark grinned at her, and took a firmer grasp of her hand. "Let's go-now."
Abby shrank back. "Go where? I'm not so sure I like this."
Mark continued smiling at her. "This from the woman who said 'Forget Superman, I'll take Mark Green'?"
Abby blushed and shrugged. "Hey, you were dead. I didn't think you were listening. But seriously, I don't want to do this."
"No longer your choice," Mark replied grimly. "Hold on, we're going." Fog swirled up around them; it was pretty amazing for such a clear, cold evening. With a flash of light and a rumble of thunder, they found themselves standing outside a squalid apartment building.
"Wow, that was some special effects-how did you do that?" Abby gaped at Mark in amazement.
"Trade secret. It's some sort of slide through time-I can't explain it. Damn it, Jim, I was a doctor, not a mad scientist." Mark grinned at her, then sobered. "Now, on with the job at hand-do you recognize where we are?"
Abby nodded grimly. "I sure do. It's one of the apartments I lived in while I was growing up." Even in the darkness, she could see that the building was deserted, the entryway strewn with garbage and overgrown with weeds. "Looks like it's abandoned."
"Actually, it's condemned. Scheduled to be torn down next week." Mark looked at her intently. "Something significant happened here, when you were a child. Do you remember?"
Abby stepped away from him and crossed her arms over her chest. She swallowed before she replied, "Maggie-my mother was off her medication, and acting crazy. She chased my brother and me around the apartment with a knife."
Mark nodded. "That's right-and you were able to get Eric into a closet and lock both of you in until she calmed down, right?" He furrowed his brow and quickly continued, "But, no, wait, since you were never born, it didn't quite happen that way."
She peered up at him intently, and then asked slowly, "What are you talking about?"
"Well, like you said, Maggie had't taken her medication, and she did chase Eric around the apartment with a knife. But Eric didn't make it into the closet-"
"Oh, no," Abby interrupted, "I don't want to hear this!"
Mark continued relentlessly, "He didn't make it into the closet. Maggie slipped on the hall rug and fell on him, and stabbed him by accident."
Abby was crying now, tears falling slowly down her face. "Was he-"
"He died before the ambulance could arrive." Mark scuffed his shoe along the ground as Abby continued to cry silently. He looked solemnly into her eyes. "There's more."
"More?" Abby ran her hands through her hair, and clasped her hands behind her neck. "What else could you possibly tell me?"
"The police didn't believe it was an accident. Neighbors claimed they could hear Maggie screaming that she was going to kill Eric if she caught him."
Abby stared at him. "But she always said things like that when she was enraged. No one believed her. How could they? She was-"
"Sick? Crazy?" Mark finished the sentence for her. "That's exactly what the district attorney argued when they prosecuted her for manslaughter."
Abby wiped her face with both hands. "Where is she now?"
"In a psychiatric ward-she's been there for nearly 20 years, with little hope of parole. Her mental condition keeps deteriorating, and she can remember little of what has happened in her life." Mark crossed his arms on his chest. "I guess in a way that that is blessing." He looked at her intently. "Do you want to see her?"
"Oh, no, no-" Abby backed away from him.
"Abby, you really need to see her," Mark replied.
Before she could answer, she was standing next to Mark in a small room resembling a prison cell; it was stark, with bare walls and the minimum amount of furniture: a bed a chair, and a table. Someone sat on the bed, rocking.
Abby looked at Mark in disbelief. "Is she.?"
He nodded at her. "It's Maggie."
The woman sitting on the bed looked like she was about 70 years old, with unkempt gray hair and mussed clothes. She glanced up at Abby and Mark with a vacant stare. "Is it time to eat?" she asked in a dreamy voice.
Abby knelt beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Mom?" she asked hesitantly, "Mom, it's me, Abby."
Maggie shrunk away from her. "Abby who?"
Mark quickly intervened by stating, "She doesn't know you, remember? You don't exist-you weren't at that apartment to save your brother's life, or to keep your mother from doing something horrible because you were never born. Eric is gone, and your mother is lost to reality."
Abby glared up at him. "What do you mean? She'll get better, won't she?"
Mark spread his hands in front of him. "Why should she? What does she have to live for anymore? Her son's dead and she's imprisoned without hope of parole."
Abby turned back to her mother. "Mom," she tried again.
"Abby, this is pointless." Mark exclaimed. "She doesn't know you," he repeated emphatically.
"I don't believe you," Abby exclaimed. "Mom, you've got to recognize me."
Maggie looked very frightened, and pushed Abby's hands away from her. Flattening herself against the wall behind the bed, she cried out in an agitated voice, "I don't know you! Who are you? Why are you bothering me?" A maniacal gleam entered her eyes and she crowed, "You're here to hurt me, aren't you? I knew you'd come!" Her voice rose to a shout "Help! Nurse! Someone! Help me!"
"We've got to go now." Mark grabbed Abby by the shoulders and pulled her against him. With another burst of light, they stood outside the familiar emergency room doors of County General. Mark put both arms around Abby and let her cry until she calmed down.
"How could such a thing happen?" she sobbed helplessly.
Mark replied calmly, "You weren't there, remember?" He hesitated, and continued, "You were the glue that held your family together, Abby. Without you there, the family fell apart." He paused and said, "Are you ready to go in?"
"Go in?" Abby repeated dully.
Mark inclined his head toward the hospital. "There's more for you to see."
Abby shook her head vehemently. "What could you possibly show me in County General? I made no difference there whatsoever-hell, I couldn't even complete my training as a doctor. I was a nurse."
"Oh, Abby," Mark chided her. "Do you really believe that?" He reached for her and clasped her hand. "C'mon."
Another flash of light and they stood inside County General, adjacent to the hospital birthing rooms. Mark crossed his arms and explained, "How about all of those births that you assisted-some of those difficult ones, where the baby was breech or there were problems with the umbilical cord? You saved a lot of lives through your decisions and your quick intervention." He sighed heavily. "Of course, some of those babies didn't make it because you weren't there to intervene."
Abby looked at him in disbelief. "There were other nurses to help-"
"But not you." Mark responded firmly. "And do you even realize the difference you made in the Emergency Room?" At her blank look, he nodded toward the stairs. "C'mon, let's go see."