Author's Note: As usual, big thanks to all who have read and reviewed my stories, huge thanks to Em and Eve who checked over and edited this chapter for me. In case any of you are wondering, I did not fall off the face of the earth, I was in this school play and for an entire month, I almost literally ate, slept and breathed that play. Thankfully he only lets us rehearse for little over a month. I'll tell you, high school theater is brutal! I am sorry that it has taken so long for me to get this up, but on the bright side, it gave you all a chance to read fan fics that were actually worth reading! Chapter four is being edited right now, so I think I'll post it this weekend…possibly. As always, reviewing is wonderful. I would love to have anyone read and review. Please R&R it really does help to know that people like my story…or hate it.

Oh, I don't own them, I need to start writing that, don't I?

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Chapter 3- Insomnia

Abby threw off her covers. For three hours she had been trying to get to sleep, and for three hours she remained wide awake. Turning her head slightly to the left she noted that Richard was sleeping soundly beside her.

Why didn't that surprise her?

She hadn't expected him to be awake. After all, he wasn't the one with what could only be pregnancy-induced insomnia. That didn't mean that she couldn't be mad at him for being able to sleep though.

"Richard," she whispered, poking his side. He didn't move.

"Richard," she said again, this time a little louder and closer to his ear.

"S'not time go 'way," he mumbled sleepily, turning onto his side so that his back faced her.

"Richard!" she hissed.

"What!?"

"Can we go for a walk?" she asked. Odd as it may seem this was all she wanted. Most pregnant women craved pickles and ice cream, Abby wanted to take a walk with her husband.

"Yeah, go ahead," he consented groggily, settling closer under the covers.

"No, can *we* go for a walk? Both of us."

Richard reluctantly opened his eyes and squinted at the clock. "It's 3 a.m. Abby! I'm on at nine," he moaned. "Can't you go for a walk in the morning?"

"Fine, you go back to bed," she murmured grumpily. "I'll just go around the block a couple of times."

"Have fun," he yawned, repositioning himself in the bed and pulling the covers over himself.

Abby struggled to get up. Finally, in the right position, she placed her hands firmly on the bed and propelled herself upwards, ignoring the muffled protests from Richard. She threw on a pair of maternity pants and Richard's old college sweatshirt before tying her hair up in a rough ponytail and leaving the apartment, picking up her keys from the hall table as she went.

Leaning against the closed door Abby surveyed the dimly lit corridor. As she expected at that time of the morning there was not a single person out in the hall. She made her way carefully to the elevator, but before she had a chance to push the button the doors swung open.

"Sorry, Abby," her neighbor said politely as he narrowly avoided running into her. She looked at him and the group of his friends standing behind him, each holding a crate of beer in their arms. They appeared uneasy, as if they expected her to admonish them in some way.

"What is this for? A frat party or something?" she joked, casting a longing glance at the bottles they held.

"We figured we'd celebrate the first weekend of the last year of college," one of the boys explained sheepishly.

Abby snorted. "Have fun…Just don't wake 'His Highness' in there," she warned. "He has an early shift in the morning." They all promised to keep the noise down as Abby stepped into the now empty elevator, but just as the doors were about to come her neighbor shot out his arm to keep the doors open, causing Abby to jump back in alarm.

"Sorry Abby, I almost forgot. Some lady downstairs was asking for you. Said something about you being her daughter, but she looked a little crazy if you ask me."

Abby barely had time to register what he was saying before the doors to the elevator started to close, cutting off her response. A thousand terrifying images flashed through her mind as the doors closed and the elevator descended.

~~~~

"…but I want to see my daughter! Where's Abby? I want to see Abby! Tell me where she is!"

Abby recognized the voice long before she saw its owner. Maggie was leaning over the front desk, dangerously close to toppling over. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were torn, but it was still Maggie.

Abby hung back for a few more moments, contemplating turning back into the elevator and pretending she had never seen Maggie, but she knew that she couldn't do this. She took a deep breath then sighed, hanging her head as she walked slowly over to her mother.

"I'm right here Maggie," she said, flashing an apologetic look at the flustered doorman.

"Abby!" Maggie shouted excitedly as she pushed past the doorman and engulfed Abby in a hug that took her breath away. "I think you need to talk to your superintendent about this man here. He's not doing his job right! He told me you didn't live here but you do because you're here!" Maggie told her frantically.

"He's just doing his job," Abby explained pointedly to her mother before turning to the doorman who was trying unsuccessfully to maintain his composure. She apologized profusely to him as she backed away out of the building, dragging Maggie behind her.

"What was his name? I want to launch a complaint agia-"

Abby stopped abruptly in the middle of the street and whirled around to face her mother, cutting Maggie off before she started off on another rant. "Mom, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you," Maggie pouted. "You're my little girl. When Eric told me you were pregnant I was so happy! You know, your brother thinks-"

"Stop it!" Abby shouted. Not even a minute into the visit and she was already wishing it were over.

"Does Eric even know you're here?" she asked, exasperated.

Maggie shrugged. "It's pretty hot out here. Let's go back inside." She turned to head for the doors but Abby held her back.

"When you left, did you tell Eric that you were leaving?" Abby asked again.

Maggie shifted uncomfortably, folded and unfolded her arms several times, then finally answered in the negative by lowering her eyes to the ground and shaking her head.

Abby closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Now she was tired. Maggie had an innate ability to make her feel tired when everything else was keeping her up.

"You can't just leave without telling him…or turn up here without calling me for that matter,"

Maggie nodded quickly and looked suitably chastised. "I want to see the birth of my grandchild."

"That…" Abby stopped. She didn't know how to answer. Of course it was sweet, maternal, whatever one might think, but it was also Maggie.

"I have to call Eric," Abby sighed, suddenly noticing the thick August air had matted her hair against her face and neck in the short time they had been outside. She pushed her hair out of her face, grabbed Maggie's arm, and steered her back into the building and up to the apartment.

~~~

"What's Maggie doing here?" Richard asked groggily from behind a large cup of coffee.

"She wanted to come for a visit. Her train got in at about six this morning," Abby lied.

"Did you know she was coming?" he asked suspiciously.

Abby nodded, shoving a piece of a banana and her mouth. Another lie. Did she ever know when Maggie was coming?

"Why didn't you tell me?" Richard wondered, becoming irritable.

Abby swallowed with difficulty as she was caught out in her lie. "Sorry. I figured you wouldn't mind," she said casually.

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows in question, waiting for her to explain further.

"Do you want me to tell her to go?" *Stupid question, of course he does*

Richard sat down at the table. "Is she taking her meds?"

"She seemed pretty lucid earlier…"

"The baby will be coming anytime. Do you really want to risk having it exposed to her," Richard said, trying his hardest to reason with her.

"Yeah. It's just horrible exposing a child to their grandmother. What was I thinking?" she murmured to herself.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, standing up to drop her banana peel into the garbage. "Listen, I have to go to a meeting. Could you get my mom breakfast or something when she gets up?"

Richard nodded begrudgingly, and with that Abby left him sitting there obviously sulking about his inability to control his wife-or her mother.

~~~

Abby looked around the packed room: not a single empty chair and the meeting hadn't even begun yet! People were milling about as they waited for the meeting to start, making the room feel hot and stuffy. Abby felt faint, but she knew if she sat on the floor she would never get up. She scanned the tops of people's heads once more, hoping to find a space somewhere, but she couldn't see anything. By that time the meeting had started so she walked to the back wall and leaned heavily against it. As the words of the meeting drifted past her she debated over her next course of action. Of course she could always leave…but that wasn't the best option. She could move to the front to talk since she was already standing…then again she could stand back and listen to the stories of hope…

"…and that's why I'm here now, talking to you." The woman in the front finished speaking and stepped down as the polite applause rose around her. Without thinking Abby stepped forward and waited for the man at the podium to acknowledge her. He did so, and she started to speak.

"My name is Abby…Abby Lockhart. I-uh-I've been sober for a little over nine months now." Abby was uncomfortable but she saw nothing but empathy from the crowd before her, encouraging her to continue with her story. "I had been on this cycle of drinking where I would stop and start again…a day, a week, sometimes even a month later. It didn't matter how long it was, I would always start drinking again eventually. Then, I found out I was pregnant…

"I wanted a drink so badly at that moment…It's kind of funny: The one time I really needed a drink and I couldn't!" She gave a short laugh at her little joke before continuing. "It's been pretty hard. My husband wasn't supportive, but I didn't drink…and because of this baby I've been sober for nine months. Not one. And…Um, I guess that's all."

Abby stepped down from the platform and walked quickly to the back of the room. Her face and body felt hot as she fell against the cool wall. She had shared way too much information, more than she had intended. Nothing she had said to them made any sense, but she had to admit it felt great saying those things out loud…

***

(Two weeks previously…)

He couldn't sleep.

He didn't want to sleep.

Too many nightmares…too many memories…

Carter stood alone, staring across the large ornamented lawn. Beautiful trees and dark sculptures speckled the lawn, but they weren't very good companions. They gave no encouragement and the wind left no hope as it swept through the trees.

*How very poetic* Carter thought bitterly.

He took a quick draw on his half-finished cigarette and exhaled quietly. Suddenly a voice called out from behind him, waking Carter from his thoughts and causing him to turn around with a guilty expression on his face.

"When did you start smoking?"

He was caught.

"Gamma?" He coughed. "I…I dunno. A while back, I guess," he murmured, at a loss for words.

"It's a bad habit, I should know." She paused as if uncertain whether to say what was on her mind or not, then decided to continue. "You don't seem very happy lately…Would you like to talk?"

Carter said nothing. His cigarette fell from his parted fingers and lay forgotten on the dewy grass while they stood, not quite companionably and not quite uncomfortably in silence.

"John, you need to move on. Just look at your parents. After your brother died…they never got over your brother's death …" she said simply. Again, he said nothing.

"You should get some sleep," She said, shuffling back into the house, and leaving him alone once more.

"Yeah, I should…" he told no one.

He needed drugs.

He had drugs.

In the house, in the bathroom, in his cabinet there was Vicodin, or at least what was left of it after his stabbing…

Careful not to wake anyone, Carter returned to the house, ran quietly up the stairs and entered his bathroom. He grabbed the bottle from the cabinet and grasped it tightly.

Then, with shaky hands, he undid the lid. He didn't understand why he was so nervous. He had taken drugs before…he wasn't doing anything wrong…just finishing off the bottle of prescription drugs.

No crime in following Doctor's orders he told himself as he swallowed the last pill in the bottle.

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