Chapter 5
"It Only Hurts When I'm Breathing"
*************
Yawning, Carter fiddled with his key until it slid into the lock. He entered his home quietly, not wanting to disturb or startle Abby. It was dead in the ER and, by some miracle, he was able to get off early, but he doubted his guest would be awake. He still felt guilty about their quarrel, though. A master at blocking out personal problems and focusing on sick patients, he had found it nearly impossible to think about anything else besides what Abby had said to him. She wasn't his problem to solve. Maybe not, but she was his friend and he had begun to realize he cared for her more than he'd ever cared for anyone.
Deciding to check in on her, Carter kicked off his shoes and tread lightly down the hall to his room. The door was still shut. Slowly turning the knob, he opened it a crack, a slant of light falling into the darkened room. Abby wasn't in bed. He immediately pushed the door open a little further to get a better look. When it resisted, he glanced down to see the woman fast asleep on the floor. Cautious not to bump her again, Carter squeezed through the limited space and knelt on one knee beside Abby. Her shallow, steady breathing assured him that she was only sleeping. He hated to disturb her, but didn't want to leave her there either.
"Abby," Carter brushed back the soft hair that had fallen across her bruised cheek then nudged her shoulder a few times. He waited until her eyelids fluttered open. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You shouldn't be on the floor. Let's get you into bed."
"Huh?" Abby asked, disoriented with sleep. She mumbled something unintelligible as Carter helped her sit up and hoisted her to her feet. His arms and legs were doing most of the work as she "walked" to the bed. She didn't really wake up until she felt herself being lowered onto an inviting cushiony surface.
Carter draped the blanket around her shoulders and looked down upon her intently. One side of her face was red with the imprint of the carpet. When she gazed up at him, he quickly looked elsewhere. "Sorry, I woke you," he mumbled. "And..." Maybe she wouldn't even remember this later on, but he wanted to say it while he had the chance. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I shouldn't even have mentioned it. Don't be mad at me forever, okay?" With that, he turned to go.
Abby caught Carter's hand before he could leave. She had done it on impulse and wasn't ready to say what was on the tip of her tongue. "Would you..."
Judging from her expression he had a pretty good idea what she was going to ask. He also knew she was too... well... Abby to do it. She usually didn't ask for something, it needed to be offered. "Want me to stay?" he questioned gently.
Relieved that he understood, Abby nodded. Luka had never been able to read her like that. Even with the strongest of hints, things could go right over his head. She knew her tendency to be guarded contributed to that, but she didn't feel the openness with Luka that she felt with Carter. Scooting over, Abby pulled back the covers for Carter. When he had eased in beside her, she hesitated leaning against him. Without missing a beat he stretched out an offering arm that closed around her when she accepted it. She exhaled lightly, relaxing and snuggling against the safety of his warm body.
Neither spoke a word, though they both remained awake for awhile. Carter's mind wandered as he studied Abby's hand on his chest, rising and falling with each breath he took. He had dreamed about something like this. What a hell of a rotten way to get there, he thought indignantly. Clasping his own hand around Abby's smaller, colder one, he pushed those regrets aside and was eventually lulled to sleep by her rhythmic breathing.
*************
Several hours passed and the sun was shining blindingly through the curtains when Abby opened her eyes to the sound of soft snoring. She had barely moved from Carter's embrace the entire morning and what looked to be well into the afternoon. She'd completely lost track of how many hours of sleep she had gotten. Obviously a lot more than Carter. Comfortable and reluctant to wake him, she remained still, inhaling the scent of cologne that was soaked into his dark sweater. It was rich and musky, without being too overpowering. She liked it.
The shrill ringing of the cordless phone on Carter's night table shattered the peaceful moment. Startled, Abby involuntarily jerked and Carter's eyes flew open. Groaning, he reached for the harsh substitute for an alarm clock and stopped short of throwing it across the room. Pressing the talk button, he brought the phone to his ear and grumbled, "Hello?"
Abby took notice when the tone of his voice abruptly changed after a long silence.
"What?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." Carter glanced at Abby who stared back with curious brown eyes.
"Is that necessary?"
"This isn't the best time..."
"I see."
"I'll do what I can."
"Good-bye."
"Who was it?" Abby questioned as he clicked the phone off.
Carter heaved a weary sigh. How much more of this crap was she going to have to take?
"Carter."
"Police officer," he answered.
"Did... did they catch him?"
If only, Carter thought. "No."
"Oh."
"They, uhh.. want you to come in..."
Abby furrowed her brow. "For what? For questioning?"
"Well, that and..." Carter wasn't able to just rattle it off the way the cop on the phone had.
"John!"
He could see the distress in her eyes and forced out the words. "They've got a body they want you to identify. They think it could be Joyce."
Abby pulled away from the crook of Carter's arm and sat up, her dark hair messy and wavier than usual. She blinked, confused, and stuttered the woman's name out, "J-joyce? But I took her to a women's shelter, she was fine. She can't be-" Abby stopped short of the word that would have finished that sentence and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Did they say what happened? I mean if it's her, how did she-"
"They didn't say," Carter broke in, putting his hand on her arm to calm her down. "Just that they found her early this morning and need a positive ID. You don't have to do it, Abby. I'm sure they can find someone else, probably at the shelter."
Thoughts were racing through her head so quickly it took a moment for her to focus on what he had said. "No, I should do it... they didn't know her," Abby's words trailed each other as though she was searching for them one at a time.
"You're shaking." Carter didn't get the chance to pull her close. She crawled across the bed and started to rummage through her suitcase. "I don't think you should do it," he stated, watching as she collected an outfit to change into. "You've been through enough already. You don't need to be involved with this."
A day late and a dollar short, Abby thought. "Carter, it's way too late for me to not be involved."
Aggravated, more at the situation than her insistence, he tossed the blankets aside and got out of bed. "Okay, I'll make breakfast."
She started to say she wasn't hungry then thought better of it. She could make it look like she was eating. When the door closed behind Carter, she removed her sweat pants and sweat shirt and slipped into the clothes laid out on the bed.
*************
Abby tapped her shoe impatiently on the floor, not even realizing she was doing it until the woman behind the desk shot her a look. Working in a coroner's office apparently didn't agree with the lady. Then again, it probably didn't "agree" with anyone. It gave Abby the creeps. She had dealt with more than her share of dead bodies, but that was at a hospital where people were supposed to get better. Nobody who checked-in here had the chance of walking back out again.
She really, really wanted a cigarette. The packet in her purse was empty, though, and there was a No Smoking sign on the wall, directly behind grouchy desk lady. Abby glared at the woman till the squinty eyes behind the glasses glared back.
"C'mon, Carter," Abby whispered, glancing at the clock as though that would make him return from the bathroom sooner. It must have worked, because she heard footsteps and turned to see the man approaching. At the house she told him he didn't have to come along with her; he refused to let her go alone. She was glad. Funny how he kept showing up at the times she needed him most.
"Miss Lockhart?" A sober looking man with a clipboard waited expectantly at the entrance to a long corridor.
Abby willed herself to stand up, to fall into step with Carter, to ignore the pounding of her heart. It was one of those moments that felt like a dream, only she knew she couldn't wake up. The man leading her and Carter through the hall was droning on about what would happen when they viewed the body - pull back curtain, look at body, identify body. All said without emotion. Abby tuned him out. She had seen enough episodes of "Crossing Jordan" to know how this was done. And she had dreaded something like this for years, always imagining it would be her mother's body she was called in to identify.
"Let me know when you're ready, ma'am."
The trio had stopped in front of a glass partition blocked off by a curtain. Abby glanced up at Carter, his hand immediately resting on her shoulder. She tried to clear her throat, but it was too dry. Abby nodded at the man before she could chicken out of this.
Stepping forward, the medical examiner tapped his knuckle against the glass.
"It Only Hurts When I'm Breathing"
*************
Yawning, Carter fiddled with his key until it slid into the lock. He entered his home quietly, not wanting to disturb or startle Abby. It was dead in the ER and, by some miracle, he was able to get off early, but he doubted his guest would be awake. He still felt guilty about their quarrel, though. A master at blocking out personal problems and focusing on sick patients, he had found it nearly impossible to think about anything else besides what Abby had said to him. She wasn't his problem to solve. Maybe not, but she was his friend and he had begun to realize he cared for her more than he'd ever cared for anyone.
Deciding to check in on her, Carter kicked off his shoes and tread lightly down the hall to his room. The door was still shut. Slowly turning the knob, he opened it a crack, a slant of light falling into the darkened room. Abby wasn't in bed. He immediately pushed the door open a little further to get a better look. When it resisted, he glanced down to see the woman fast asleep on the floor. Cautious not to bump her again, Carter squeezed through the limited space and knelt on one knee beside Abby. Her shallow, steady breathing assured him that she was only sleeping. He hated to disturb her, but didn't want to leave her there either.
"Abby," Carter brushed back the soft hair that had fallen across her bruised cheek then nudged her shoulder a few times. He waited until her eyelids fluttered open. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You shouldn't be on the floor. Let's get you into bed."
"Huh?" Abby asked, disoriented with sleep. She mumbled something unintelligible as Carter helped her sit up and hoisted her to her feet. His arms and legs were doing most of the work as she "walked" to the bed. She didn't really wake up until she felt herself being lowered onto an inviting cushiony surface.
Carter draped the blanket around her shoulders and looked down upon her intently. One side of her face was red with the imprint of the carpet. When she gazed up at him, he quickly looked elsewhere. "Sorry, I woke you," he mumbled. "And..." Maybe she wouldn't even remember this later on, but he wanted to say it while he had the chance. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I shouldn't even have mentioned it. Don't be mad at me forever, okay?" With that, he turned to go.
Abby caught Carter's hand before he could leave. She had done it on impulse and wasn't ready to say what was on the tip of her tongue. "Would you..."
Judging from her expression he had a pretty good idea what she was going to ask. He also knew she was too... well... Abby to do it. She usually didn't ask for something, it needed to be offered. "Want me to stay?" he questioned gently.
Relieved that he understood, Abby nodded. Luka had never been able to read her like that. Even with the strongest of hints, things could go right over his head. She knew her tendency to be guarded contributed to that, but she didn't feel the openness with Luka that she felt with Carter. Scooting over, Abby pulled back the covers for Carter. When he had eased in beside her, she hesitated leaning against him. Without missing a beat he stretched out an offering arm that closed around her when she accepted it. She exhaled lightly, relaxing and snuggling against the safety of his warm body.
Neither spoke a word, though they both remained awake for awhile. Carter's mind wandered as he studied Abby's hand on his chest, rising and falling with each breath he took. He had dreamed about something like this. What a hell of a rotten way to get there, he thought indignantly. Clasping his own hand around Abby's smaller, colder one, he pushed those regrets aside and was eventually lulled to sleep by her rhythmic breathing.
*************
Several hours passed and the sun was shining blindingly through the curtains when Abby opened her eyes to the sound of soft snoring. She had barely moved from Carter's embrace the entire morning and what looked to be well into the afternoon. She'd completely lost track of how many hours of sleep she had gotten. Obviously a lot more than Carter. Comfortable and reluctant to wake him, she remained still, inhaling the scent of cologne that was soaked into his dark sweater. It was rich and musky, without being too overpowering. She liked it.
The shrill ringing of the cordless phone on Carter's night table shattered the peaceful moment. Startled, Abby involuntarily jerked and Carter's eyes flew open. Groaning, he reached for the harsh substitute for an alarm clock and stopped short of throwing it across the room. Pressing the talk button, he brought the phone to his ear and grumbled, "Hello?"
Abby took notice when the tone of his voice abruptly changed after a long silence.
"What?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." Carter glanced at Abby who stared back with curious brown eyes.
"Is that necessary?"
"This isn't the best time..."
"I see."
"I'll do what I can."
"Good-bye."
"Who was it?" Abby questioned as he clicked the phone off.
Carter heaved a weary sigh. How much more of this crap was she going to have to take?
"Carter."
"Police officer," he answered.
"Did... did they catch him?"
If only, Carter thought. "No."
"Oh."
"They, uhh.. want you to come in..."
Abby furrowed her brow. "For what? For questioning?"
"Well, that and..." Carter wasn't able to just rattle it off the way the cop on the phone had.
"John!"
He could see the distress in her eyes and forced out the words. "They've got a body they want you to identify. They think it could be Joyce."
Abby pulled away from the crook of Carter's arm and sat up, her dark hair messy and wavier than usual. She blinked, confused, and stuttered the woman's name out, "J-joyce? But I took her to a women's shelter, she was fine. She can't be-" Abby stopped short of the word that would have finished that sentence and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Did they say what happened? I mean if it's her, how did she-"
"They didn't say," Carter broke in, putting his hand on her arm to calm her down. "Just that they found her early this morning and need a positive ID. You don't have to do it, Abby. I'm sure they can find someone else, probably at the shelter."
Thoughts were racing through her head so quickly it took a moment for her to focus on what he had said. "No, I should do it... they didn't know her," Abby's words trailed each other as though she was searching for them one at a time.
"You're shaking." Carter didn't get the chance to pull her close. She crawled across the bed and started to rummage through her suitcase. "I don't think you should do it," he stated, watching as she collected an outfit to change into. "You've been through enough already. You don't need to be involved with this."
A day late and a dollar short, Abby thought. "Carter, it's way too late for me to not be involved."
Aggravated, more at the situation than her insistence, he tossed the blankets aside and got out of bed. "Okay, I'll make breakfast."
She started to say she wasn't hungry then thought better of it. She could make it look like she was eating. When the door closed behind Carter, she removed her sweat pants and sweat shirt and slipped into the clothes laid out on the bed.
*************
Abby tapped her shoe impatiently on the floor, not even realizing she was doing it until the woman behind the desk shot her a look. Working in a coroner's office apparently didn't agree with the lady. Then again, it probably didn't "agree" with anyone. It gave Abby the creeps. She had dealt with more than her share of dead bodies, but that was at a hospital where people were supposed to get better. Nobody who checked-in here had the chance of walking back out again.
She really, really wanted a cigarette. The packet in her purse was empty, though, and there was a No Smoking sign on the wall, directly behind grouchy desk lady. Abby glared at the woman till the squinty eyes behind the glasses glared back.
"C'mon, Carter," Abby whispered, glancing at the clock as though that would make him return from the bathroom sooner. It must have worked, because she heard footsteps and turned to see the man approaching. At the house she told him he didn't have to come along with her; he refused to let her go alone. She was glad. Funny how he kept showing up at the times she needed him most.
"Miss Lockhart?" A sober looking man with a clipboard waited expectantly at the entrance to a long corridor.
Abby willed herself to stand up, to fall into step with Carter, to ignore the pounding of her heart. It was one of those moments that felt like a dream, only she knew she couldn't wake up. The man leading her and Carter through the hall was droning on about what would happen when they viewed the body - pull back curtain, look at body, identify body. All said without emotion. Abby tuned him out. She had seen enough episodes of "Crossing Jordan" to know how this was done. And she had dreaded something like this for years, always imagining it would be her mother's body she was called in to identify.
"Let me know when you're ready, ma'am."
The trio had stopped in front of a glass partition blocked off by a curtain. Abby glanced up at Carter, his hand immediately resting on her shoulder. She tried to clear her throat, but it was too dry. Abby nodded at the man before she could chicken out of this.
Stepping forward, the medical examiner tapped his knuckle against the glass.