Title: Sombra de la Tormenta, Part Four: Those Kinds Of Days
See Part One for other information.
* * * *
"...then Chuny says to him: 'Put it down on the table or I'm going to explode!'"
There's a polite chuckle on the other side of the doorway, but no other response.
"Abby?"
The door opens, realvieling Abby wearing her pajamas and a solom expression. There's a pause. I know what's coming is what I've been avoiding all night.
"What now, Carter? Tell me what to do." I should know. I was the original addict of our duo. I can't go on like nothing ever hapened.
"I don't know." I reply, telling the truth.
Abby's small arms push against the doorframe as she lets out a breath.
"Why are you here? You should go home. Watch football or something." Her head is bowed.
"There's no game on."
Agrivated, she tells me I don't need to be with her. Not now. Way to state the facts. I tell her I'm here with her because I want to be. She continues to scowl at me.
"Look, if you don't want me around now, that's fine. Just ask me. I'll go if you want me to, but I'd prefer no to." I can see my words give way in her eyes, but not another feature falters.
"I'm sure there's something on TV."
I don't respond. I can relate to wanting space, but her rejection stings. Abby resumes staring at the rug. She knows that her words hurt me, she's just ignoring it.
"Carter, please leave."
"Fine." I turn my back, going to get my coat which I left on the couch. "The landlord will be coming by tommorrow to fix your thermostat." I call over my shoulder.
"I thought it was hot in here."
"Try ninety degrees." I say as I open the door. The knob is cool in my hand and I squeeze it, as if it alone can lower my temperature. I turn to look at her, still gripping the door handle.
"Can I reach you at the mansion? You know, to go to lunch or something?" She asks as her eyes skip around the room dodging my own.
I dig into my pocket and pull out a receipt and writing my number onto it.
"I moved." She nods. "Appartment."
She smiles as I hand the piece of paper to her.
"So, I guess I'll call you tommorow?" Her tone makes me shake, so I clutch the cool knob one last time to steady myself.
"Tommorow. Take care of yourself."
"Bye." The door shuts behind me and I head home.
I've done all I can for now, the rest is up to her. Walking away like this, I can't help but feel guilty. Then again she asked me to leave, and said she'd call me tommorow. I hope I can believe her. Lies would just add salt to the wound.
I want her to know that I've learned from my selfish mistakes and I don't ever want to abandon her in a time of need, ever again. I want her to be able to trust me, but deep within me I know she has to learn to do that on her own. At least I can still be a friend, or at least, I hope I can be one.
* * * *
My house is so damn hot, so my bathwater is left at lukewarm. Picking up a sponge I scrub away all of the memories and places and faceless people that I want to forget. Rubbing hard, I will the dust of time to leave and never taint me again. With all my might I try but at the end of the day all I'm left with is pinkened skin and knowledge that this will never leave me.
The bubbles dwindle down so all that's left is a white coating on top of the water. I pull the plug and step out of the tub. I towel myself off and get back into my summer pajamas. They're light, airy, which is good because it feels like the Sahara in here.
I don't want to think about how I'll sleep tonight.
The moisture in the air clings to my skin, smothering it until I steop out into my bedroom and the water evaporates into the dry air.
My home looks like I left it. Clean, safe and comfortable. I look in the refrigerator and find Carter has restocked it with a six pack of soda and some grapefruit. Thr freezer has a couple of frozen pizzas and a pint of mint chocolatechip ice cream. Life is uncertain, eat dessert first, I think while digging around for a spoon.
As I sit on my window seat, there's an instant where I feel like a normal woman. The fact I just got out of rehab less than twenty-four hours ago be damned. That, and my former lover is trying to rebuild what seemed like a lost cause of a relationship.
I knew I'd start thinking about Carter again. As much as he feels like home to me, being with him after all the recent shit we've gone through is a little awkward. Then again, the "real world" also has an alienating affect on me. I was given a heads up before I boarded the bus this morning, but warning wasn't enough.
In my case, warnings rarely are. Some things I need to figure out on my own. I've learned now that it does take effort to make yourself feel wanted. The fragility of things has been made more apparent to me, but I know I have to suck it up and remain tough, because that's what's expected of me. That's who I am.
I get through the bad parts with a shit-eating grin and cynicism, because that's what I always do. All though this time I have to rebuild a relationship upon broken bonds of trust and love.
I look up to find myself staring out at the smokey and jazz cluttered Chicago skyline. My tenedency to space out has come more frequently.
I set my bowl of melted mintchip ice cream on the counter. It's eleven, I'm tired, deppressed and I know I have to deal with Carter tommorow. My eye lashes have turned to lead, so I stroll to my bedroom and lay down, pulling the crisp sheets and comforter up to my chin. As hot as it is I feel safe with the added weight of my comforter on top of me.
I try and stay awake as long as I can, just incase this is a dream and I'm about to wake up back in that hospital. I'm scared to go back there, to face drugs did to my body. But what's strange is that I'm as frightened of that as I am of getting my old self back. I have to explain this to my friends and my co-workers. The only person I know from my past life who's had any experience with this feeling is Carter. No one else will understand me as well as he can.
Hello, I am Abby Lockhart and this is the life I chose.
I don't know what I was thinking.
* * * *
The phone rings.
"Carter."
"Hey. Carter, it's Abby."
The light streaming through my window blinds me. Looking at my clock, I see that it's eleven thirty, AM.
"Hey," I swing my legs over the side of the bed and tuck the phone under my ear. "How was your first night back?"
"Hot...temperature wise."
That's the Abby I know and love.
"I see. Well, I just got up, so..." I trail off, leaving it up to her to make a plan. I don't want to impose anything on her.
"Yeah, me too. Mr.Townsend hasn't been by to fix my damn heat yet so I have a feeling I'll be hanging around here for awhile." There's a pause and I can hear her breathing on the other end. Inhale, exhale, hold, release. She swallows.
"You can come over here, you know, if you want to."
"Sure."
My hear beays a little bit faster and my viens fill up so my skin feels like it will pop. I think I sounded too excited due to my voice cracking, but I don't really care. She's asking for my pressence after what I did to her, and she doesn't sound like she has any desire to kill me.
"How's two?"
Shit, Weaver wants me on from one until midnight.
"Actually, you know what, I just realized I have a shift. I'm sorry."
I can visulize her twisting the phone cord around in her fingers.
"It's okay."
This is the part where she'd roll her eyes and brush it off.
"You can come around four or so if you want. I can take a break and we can get an early dinner or something."
"Actually, that works out well. After the thermostat is fixed I was going to go looking for a job."
I nod, even though I know she can't see me. "County is hiring."
"I'll see you at four, Carter."
There's a click, then a dial tone.
I just want it to be normal again. I wish this whole thing hadn't happened, but the dial tone in my ear is a reminder that this is reality.
****
"Flatline. Call it."
I shed my yellow apron and laytex gloves, discarding them onto the checkerd floor. A new nurse named Kelly pronounces Mr. Thorton's time of death, and I leave the trauma room bloody and discouraged.
I pass Luka's tall, brooding self, by the admit desk. Frank is babling on about something to me, but I just nod and check the board for any patients. Surprisingly, the only ones left are waiting on labs.
I turn around in a daze and smack into Frank, who spills hit hot coffee all over me. The steaming liquid hits my skin, burning me, then comes to a stop as it cools. I look down at my chest and see the remaineders of it seeping into my shirt. Blood and coffee, hell of a mixture. For a vampire maybe.
"Watch it." Frank barks. I don't bother responding and go to the closet to look for scrubs to change into.
The vampire juice sticks to my skin as I gingerly peel off my shirt. I dig around in the pile of scrubs before me, trying to find at least a large, when I feel a set of large green eyes on me.
"Hello, Dr.Carter." It's Kelly.
"Um, hi." I say, tugging the scrub top on. A little embarassed I turn to face her again. "Did you need something?" She smiles and raises an eyebrow, and I get the feeling she's hitting on me.
I back away on instinct, putting some distance between us.
"I was just walking by and saw you, I didn't mean to interupt or anything, I just wanted to say that I know you've had a bad day, but that you did a nice job in the trauma just now. Any other doctor would have given up." She licks her lips.
"Oh, I don't know if I'd say that, but thank you." I smile then turn to the shelf of scrub pants. She's still there, lingering in the doorway. I ignore it and try to keep looking, but her pressence is distracting. "Good night." I call over my shoulder. She sighs and leaves, her sneakers' soles squeak as she trots down the hall. I let out a breath and head to the men's room with my scrubs in hand.
* * * *
It's been a long day.
No one is hiring and even if they were, I doubt they'd want a narcotic nurse in the drug lockup.
In addition to career woes, the heat in my house is still unbearable. I was alone all day, and started to think about things, which is not good. When you think about things, you get depressed, and the next thing you know you'll want a drink or a fix.
I settled for two packs of ciggarettes. But it was a close call, and it's only my second day.
So three o'clock rolls around and I walk over here, not caring if I'm early. I just need to get away for awhile, maybe talk to Carter about all that I am feeling.
It's eerie to be back at County. Sitting on the same couch, seeing the same view of the lockers and the doors and the coffee machiene. I pulled the blinds down so the likelyhood of being seen by someone I knew wouldn't be too high.
I lay back into the couch and stare at the cieling.The darkness I'm surrounded in is penetrated by a sliver of light as the door opens. My heart starts pounding and I don't know why, but I try to stay very still.
"Abby?" A surpised voice exclaims. "Abby, it's Susan."
I sit up. Breath in, breath out. It's okay. It's Susan. She understands. In, and out, in and out.
"Hey." I murmer. She runs over and hugs me to her. "Woah, I wasn't expecting this much of a welcoming." I can't help but crack a smile. My pulse slows down, leaving my dizzy from the rush of blood.
"We've all missed you." She pulls away and sits down next to me. "How've you been?"
I grin. "You know. How's it going with you?"
"It's going." The wry tone in her voice makes me grin again. "So, what are you doing here? The last place I'd expect someone to want to be is at County. Unless they got hit by a truck that is."
"Actually, Carter and I were going to get something to eat."
"So you guys..?"
"Are talking? Yes." I look away for a minnute.
"You should come back here you know. We have a shortage of nurses and you'd be a great help." Susan gets up and pours herself a cup of coffee. She gestures towards the machiene and I shake my head.
"I'll think about it, thanks."
A muffled scream for one Susan Lewis, MD; comes from outside in the hall.
" I have to get back, you know Weaver." She does look genuinley sorry too. "I'm so happy you're here! I'll call you later okay?"
"All right."
She opens the door to leave, and I see a crowd of nurses back away from her. Susan glares at them then turns back to me. "Take care Abby. I'm here if you need to talk. " I nod. "Good to see you!"
"It was good to see you too." I call out, but she's already gone, leaving the darkness to swallow me again.
Carter comes in within a matter of seconds after Susan leaves. He is busy putting things away in his locker that he doesn't even notice me here. If he does see me, he gives no indication. I shift my position to try and get a better idea of what, exactly, he's doing. He turns and sees me.
"Hey, I thought you were someone else." He sounds relieved, and I don't know if I should be glad I'm not that particular someone else.
"It's me."
"I swear to god this nurse is stalking me." He says as he sits down just where Susan was a few moments ago. "How was you day?"
I groan, not wanting to say what I've been thinking about but knowing that I have to. "Can we talk?" I ask. Carter's face lights up. Again, I don't know if I should be relieved by his reaction.
"Sure. Do you want to go somewhere?" He's beaming. It's as if I just told him he was going to get laid by Pamela Anderson, rather than talk about my shitty life. I honestly do not understand men.
"I haven't eaten anything." I suggest.
"Wanna grab a burger then walk down by the river?" He's still grinning like an idiot, and I wonder if the smile is hurting his face.
"If it floats your boat. I'm all set."
He looks down at my hands that I'm playing with in my lap. For a momet I can see him almost reach out to take my hand in his own, but then he pulls away, looking uncomforable, and walks to get his jacket.
* * * *
She talks to me. She talks to me about everything from the heating system in her house to her fifth birthday party. Everything but her bad day. Then she's quiet, and stares out over the water, looking miles beyond what's in front of her.
I offer a story about one of my now deseased patients. Mabye if I open up, she'll tell me what's wrong.
"I feel like I'm killing people instead of saving them." I say to the banester. Her arms snakes around my own and she leans into me very lightly, as if I'll be gone soon leaving her to fall to the ground.
"Your a good doctor." Abby suggests. "We all have our days. Some people just have more of those days than others."
There's a beat, and I wonder what she's looking at in her head.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" She asks, her eyes pleading with me.
Then she gets what I'm talking about.
Her shoulders drop.
"Wasn't you fault. It was mine."
"I could have been there to help."
"You were busy saving people's lives. I call upon me, and she didn't ask for any favors." Abby says.
Then she squeezes my arm and lets go, but not for long. As she begins to retreat, I cover her small hand with my own, warming it, as we both stare at the serene depths of the dirty water.
"Would you like to tell me about your day?" I ask.
She doesn't respond for a while. The wheels in her mind are spinning, and a handful of times she looks as if shes about to say something, but then covers it with a fake yawn. It's silent, and not a comfortable silence. A silent scream in the night. Yet the call doesn't have to be shut up in Abby's already tourterd pshyce. I bleed inside, wanting her to tell me what's going on between her ears.
The pause goes on for an eternity before she finds the words. People pass us by, the water continues to lap against the stone bridge, and I wait for her.
"Do the cravings keep comming back this badly?" Abby finaly asks, looking at me and piercing my soul. I shake my head no and feel a wave of relief wash over me.
"Not as bad as in the first two weeks. You'll want to give up, you'll want to go back because you think it's easier. But when that happens you have to remind yourself how far gone you where down."
Abby leans into me more forcefuly now, and I wrap my left arm around her, cradling her head with the right. I stroke her hair back from her forehead and tell her that she's strong. Her cynical laughter, the kind of laugh people have when they don't know to laugh or cry, is what comes from her.
"Not now, I'm letting you hold me like a baby." She mutters into my shoulder. Then that laugh of hers. Then the sniffle. Then the laugh. The dance we do.
"Sometimes we need to be held."
"I'm not supposed to need that." Abby whispers into my ear.
But look at what's happening, Abby. I think to myself.
Pleasent quiet settles in after that, but is quickly quaked by Abby stiffening against me.
"Ugh, I'm so..." She starts, trying to pull away, but I pull her back into me and she relaxes and lets me hold her upright.
"We all have our days." I say, then losen my grip. "But I'll be around on your bad ones. Your not alone." I almost cry with relief, remembering how badly I've wanted to say that to her.
I feel her breathing against me, and all I want to do is lean down and kiss her, but I know it's wrong. Ashamed, I turn away. I try to forget, but having her hands on my back isn't helping. I turn around, and those chocolate eyes of hers are full of forgiveness, and want. She wants what I want, and even though it's wrong, it would be equally as wrong to deny ourselves this one taste of happiness.
There's only now, there's only here.
Abby stands on her toes and pulls my face down to meet hers, and I kiss her lightly on the lips. Fireworks don't go off, and a band dosen't start to play, there's no clapping and there are no whistles. But there is that spark that we always had, that goes twisting through your guts and melts you every single time you make contact.
"I shouldn't have done that." I say.
"What did you do?" Abby snaps.
"We shouldn't."
She presses her lips together looking guilty. She thinks I didn't want it. I should feel guilty, but I can't get my eyes off of those lips of hers.
"I know." Abby sighs. "One step at a time." Her words make sence, but her tone is harsh.
"Unfourtunatly that's the way it is."
Please don't leave me again.
"I'd better go, I've already made myself look like a moron." She begins to stalk off into the shadows. As much as I want to run after her, I'm cemented to the ground. She's too tempting, much more than I remembered.
I crossed the line, but I'm only human. Guilty as charged. Steps are the key here, and if we skip one, she'll fall. I promised not to let that happen again, but I'm the one pushing it. No, we both are, we both need each other. I have to be the responsable one now, I can't let her down. I won't let her down, because that would kill me.
* * * *
End, Sombra de la Tormenta, Part Four: Those Kinds Of Days
* * * *
Author's Note: To all who've been wondering why I'm taking so long in finishing this story, I have an answer: I feel as if many fanfics start out strong and amazing, but then the author feels rushed to compleate the story, and finds a quick way to end it. I've done it myself, but seeing as how this is my favorite chapter story I've ever writen, I will not do that. My chapters will continue to be long, and I will do the best possible job I can editing. (Of course, with the wonderful help of my wonderful beta Sara.) There is to be one more chapter after this, and then an epilouge. Susan's line "it's going." Is stolen...erm, borrowed w/o permission...from Raine.g "There's only us. There's only here." Is a line from Rent, the musical by Jonathan Larson. (Which I strongly reccomend seeing, but *off* broadway...) Sujestions/Feedback/Flames...all welcome @ Rockarbaby@aol.com
See Part One for other information.
* * * *
"...then Chuny says to him: 'Put it down on the table or I'm going to explode!'"
There's a polite chuckle on the other side of the doorway, but no other response.
"Abby?"
The door opens, realvieling Abby wearing her pajamas and a solom expression. There's a pause. I know what's coming is what I've been avoiding all night.
"What now, Carter? Tell me what to do." I should know. I was the original addict of our duo. I can't go on like nothing ever hapened.
"I don't know." I reply, telling the truth.
Abby's small arms push against the doorframe as she lets out a breath.
"Why are you here? You should go home. Watch football or something." Her head is bowed.
"There's no game on."
Agrivated, she tells me I don't need to be with her. Not now. Way to state the facts. I tell her I'm here with her because I want to be. She continues to scowl at me.
"Look, if you don't want me around now, that's fine. Just ask me. I'll go if you want me to, but I'd prefer no to." I can see my words give way in her eyes, but not another feature falters.
"I'm sure there's something on TV."
I don't respond. I can relate to wanting space, but her rejection stings. Abby resumes staring at the rug. She knows that her words hurt me, she's just ignoring it.
"Carter, please leave."
"Fine." I turn my back, going to get my coat which I left on the couch. "The landlord will be coming by tommorrow to fix your thermostat." I call over my shoulder.
"I thought it was hot in here."
"Try ninety degrees." I say as I open the door. The knob is cool in my hand and I squeeze it, as if it alone can lower my temperature. I turn to look at her, still gripping the door handle.
"Can I reach you at the mansion? You know, to go to lunch or something?" She asks as her eyes skip around the room dodging my own.
I dig into my pocket and pull out a receipt and writing my number onto it.
"I moved." She nods. "Appartment."
She smiles as I hand the piece of paper to her.
"So, I guess I'll call you tommorow?" Her tone makes me shake, so I clutch the cool knob one last time to steady myself.
"Tommorow. Take care of yourself."
"Bye." The door shuts behind me and I head home.
I've done all I can for now, the rest is up to her. Walking away like this, I can't help but feel guilty. Then again she asked me to leave, and said she'd call me tommorow. I hope I can believe her. Lies would just add salt to the wound.
I want her to know that I've learned from my selfish mistakes and I don't ever want to abandon her in a time of need, ever again. I want her to be able to trust me, but deep within me I know she has to learn to do that on her own. At least I can still be a friend, or at least, I hope I can be one.
* * * *
My house is so damn hot, so my bathwater is left at lukewarm. Picking up a sponge I scrub away all of the memories and places and faceless people that I want to forget. Rubbing hard, I will the dust of time to leave and never taint me again. With all my might I try but at the end of the day all I'm left with is pinkened skin and knowledge that this will never leave me.
The bubbles dwindle down so all that's left is a white coating on top of the water. I pull the plug and step out of the tub. I towel myself off and get back into my summer pajamas. They're light, airy, which is good because it feels like the Sahara in here.
I don't want to think about how I'll sleep tonight.
The moisture in the air clings to my skin, smothering it until I steop out into my bedroom and the water evaporates into the dry air.
My home looks like I left it. Clean, safe and comfortable. I look in the refrigerator and find Carter has restocked it with a six pack of soda and some grapefruit. Thr freezer has a couple of frozen pizzas and a pint of mint chocolatechip ice cream. Life is uncertain, eat dessert first, I think while digging around for a spoon.
As I sit on my window seat, there's an instant where I feel like a normal woman. The fact I just got out of rehab less than twenty-four hours ago be damned. That, and my former lover is trying to rebuild what seemed like a lost cause of a relationship.
I knew I'd start thinking about Carter again. As much as he feels like home to me, being with him after all the recent shit we've gone through is a little awkward. Then again, the "real world" also has an alienating affect on me. I was given a heads up before I boarded the bus this morning, but warning wasn't enough.
In my case, warnings rarely are. Some things I need to figure out on my own. I've learned now that it does take effort to make yourself feel wanted. The fragility of things has been made more apparent to me, but I know I have to suck it up and remain tough, because that's what's expected of me. That's who I am.
I get through the bad parts with a shit-eating grin and cynicism, because that's what I always do. All though this time I have to rebuild a relationship upon broken bonds of trust and love.
I look up to find myself staring out at the smokey and jazz cluttered Chicago skyline. My tenedency to space out has come more frequently.
I set my bowl of melted mintchip ice cream on the counter. It's eleven, I'm tired, deppressed and I know I have to deal with Carter tommorow. My eye lashes have turned to lead, so I stroll to my bedroom and lay down, pulling the crisp sheets and comforter up to my chin. As hot as it is I feel safe with the added weight of my comforter on top of me.
I try and stay awake as long as I can, just incase this is a dream and I'm about to wake up back in that hospital. I'm scared to go back there, to face drugs did to my body. But what's strange is that I'm as frightened of that as I am of getting my old self back. I have to explain this to my friends and my co-workers. The only person I know from my past life who's had any experience with this feeling is Carter. No one else will understand me as well as he can.
Hello, I am Abby Lockhart and this is the life I chose.
I don't know what I was thinking.
* * * *
The phone rings.
"Carter."
"Hey. Carter, it's Abby."
The light streaming through my window blinds me. Looking at my clock, I see that it's eleven thirty, AM.
"Hey," I swing my legs over the side of the bed and tuck the phone under my ear. "How was your first night back?"
"Hot...temperature wise."
That's the Abby I know and love.
"I see. Well, I just got up, so..." I trail off, leaving it up to her to make a plan. I don't want to impose anything on her.
"Yeah, me too. Mr.Townsend hasn't been by to fix my damn heat yet so I have a feeling I'll be hanging around here for awhile." There's a pause and I can hear her breathing on the other end. Inhale, exhale, hold, release. She swallows.
"You can come over here, you know, if you want to."
"Sure."
My hear beays a little bit faster and my viens fill up so my skin feels like it will pop. I think I sounded too excited due to my voice cracking, but I don't really care. She's asking for my pressence after what I did to her, and she doesn't sound like she has any desire to kill me.
"How's two?"
Shit, Weaver wants me on from one until midnight.
"Actually, you know what, I just realized I have a shift. I'm sorry."
I can visulize her twisting the phone cord around in her fingers.
"It's okay."
This is the part where she'd roll her eyes and brush it off.
"You can come around four or so if you want. I can take a break and we can get an early dinner or something."
"Actually, that works out well. After the thermostat is fixed I was going to go looking for a job."
I nod, even though I know she can't see me. "County is hiring."
"I'll see you at four, Carter."
There's a click, then a dial tone.
I just want it to be normal again. I wish this whole thing hadn't happened, but the dial tone in my ear is a reminder that this is reality.
****
"Flatline. Call it."
I shed my yellow apron and laytex gloves, discarding them onto the checkerd floor. A new nurse named Kelly pronounces Mr. Thorton's time of death, and I leave the trauma room bloody and discouraged.
I pass Luka's tall, brooding self, by the admit desk. Frank is babling on about something to me, but I just nod and check the board for any patients. Surprisingly, the only ones left are waiting on labs.
I turn around in a daze and smack into Frank, who spills hit hot coffee all over me. The steaming liquid hits my skin, burning me, then comes to a stop as it cools. I look down at my chest and see the remaineders of it seeping into my shirt. Blood and coffee, hell of a mixture. For a vampire maybe.
"Watch it." Frank barks. I don't bother responding and go to the closet to look for scrubs to change into.
The vampire juice sticks to my skin as I gingerly peel off my shirt. I dig around in the pile of scrubs before me, trying to find at least a large, when I feel a set of large green eyes on me.
"Hello, Dr.Carter." It's Kelly.
"Um, hi." I say, tugging the scrub top on. A little embarassed I turn to face her again. "Did you need something?" She smiles and raises an eyebrow, and I get the feeling she's hitting on me.
I back away on instinct, putting some distance between us.
"I was just walking by and saw you, I didn't mean to interupt or anything, I just wanted to say that I know you've had a bad day, but that you did a nice job in the trauma just now. Any other doctor would have given up." She licks her lips.
"Oh, I don't know if I'd say that, but thank you." I smile then turn to the shelf of scrub pants. She's still there, lingering in the doorway. I ignore it and try to keep looking, but her pressence is distracting. "Good night." I call over my shoulder. She sighs and leaves, her sneakers' soles squeak as she trots down the hall. I let out a breath and head to the men's room with my scrubs in hand.
* * * *
It's been a long day.
No one is hiring and even if they were, I doubt they'd want a narcotic nurse in the drug lockup.
In addition to career woes, the heat in my house is still unbearable. I was alone all day, and started to think about things, which is not good. When you think about things, you get depressed, and the next thing you know you'll want a drink or a fix.
I settled for two packs of ciggarettes. But it was a close call, and it's only my second day.
So three o'clock rolls around and I walk over here, not caring if I'm early. I just need to get away for awhile, maybe talk to Carter about all that I am feeling.
It's eerie to be back at County. Sitting on the same couch, seeing the same view of the lockers and the doors and the coffee machiene. I pulled the blinds down so the likelyhood of being seen by someone I knew wouldn't be too high.
I lay back into the couch and stare at the cieling.The darkness I'm surrounded in is penetrated by a sliver of light as the door opens. My heart starts pounding and I don't know why, but I try to stay very still.
"Abby?" A surpised voice exclaims. "Abby, it's Susan."
I sit up. Breath in, breath out. It's okay. It's Susan. She understands. In, and out, in and out.
"Hey." I murmer. She runs over and hugs me to her. "Woah, I wasn't expecting this much of a welcoming." I can't help but crack a smile. My pulse slows down, leaving my dizzy from the rush of blood.
"We've all missed you." She pulls away and sits down next to me. "How've you been?"
I grin. "You know. How's it going with you?"
"It's going." The wry tone in her voice makes me grin again. "So, what are you doing here? The last place I'd expect someone to want to be is at County. Unless they got hit by a truck that is."
"Actually, Carter and I were going to get something to eat."
"So you guys..?"
"Are talking? Yes." I look away for a minnute.
"You should come back here you know. We have a shortage of nurses and you'd be a great help." Susan gets up and pours herself a cup of coffee. She gestures towards the machiene and I shake my head.
"I'll think about it, thanks."
A muffled scream for one Susan Lewis, MD; comes from outside in the hall.
" I have to get back, you know Weaver." She does look genuinley sorry too. "I'm so happy you're here! I'll call you later okay?"
"All right."
She opens the door to leave, and I see a crowd of nurses back away from her. Susan glares at them then turns back to me. "Take care Abby. I'm here if you need to talk. " I nod. "Good to see you!"
"It was good to see you too." I call out, but she's already gone, leaving the darkness to swallow me again.
Carter comes in within a matter of seconds after Susan leaves. He is busy putting things away in his locker that he doesn't even notice me here. If he does see me, he gives no indication. I shift my position to try and get a better idea of what, exactly, he's doing. He turns and sees me.
"Hey, I thought you were someone else." He sounds relieved, and I don't know if I should be glad I'm not that particular someone else.
"It's me."
"I swear to god this nurse is stalking me." He says as he sits down just where Susan was a few moments ago. "How was you day?"
I groan, not wanting to say what I've been thinking about but knowing that I have to. "Can we talk?" I ask. Carter's face lights up. Again, I don't know if I should be relieved by his reaction.
"Sure. Do you want to go somewhere?" He's beaming. It's as if I just told him he was going to get laid by Pamela Anderson, rather than talk about my shitty life. I honestly do not understand men.
"I haven't eaten anything." I suggest.
"Wanna grab a burger then walk down by the river?" He's still grinning like an idiot, and I wonder if the smile is hurting his face.
"If it floats your boat. I'm all set."
He looks down at my hands that I'm playing with in my lap. For a momet I can see him almost reach out to take my hand in his own, but then he pulls away, looking uncomforable, and walks to get his jacket.
* * * *
She talks to me. She talks to me about everything from the heating system in her house to her fifth birthday party. Everything but her bad day. Then she's quiet, and stares out over the water, looking miles beyond what's in front of her.
I offer a story about one of my now deseased patients. Mabye if I open up, she'll tell me what's wrong.
"I feel like I'm killing people instead of saving them." I say to the banester. Her arms snakes around my own and she leans into me very lightly, as if I'll be gone soon leaving her to fall to the ground.
"Your a good doctor." Abby suggests. "We all have our days. Some people just have more of those days than others."
There's a beat, and I wonder what she's looking at in her head.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" She asks, her eyes pleading with me.
Then she gets what I'm talking about.
Her shoulders drop.
"Wasn't you fault. It was mine."
"I could have been there to help."
"You were busy saving people's lives. I call upon me, and she didn't ask for any favors." Abby says.
Then she squeezes my arm and lets go, but not for long. As she begins to retreat, I cover her small hand with my own, warming it, as we both stare at the serene depths of the dirty water.
"Would you like to tell me about your day?" I ask.
She doesn't respond for a while. The wheels in her mind are spinning, and a handful of times she looks as if shes about to say something, but then covers it with a fake yawn. It's silent, and not a comfortable silence. A silent scream in the night. Yet the call doesn't have to be shut up in Abby's already tourterd pshyce. I bleed inside, wanting her to tell me what's going on between her ears.
The pause goes on for an eternity before she finds the words. People pass us by, the water continues to lap against the stone bridge, and I wait for her.
"Do the cravings keep comming back this badly?" Abby finaly asks, looking at me and piercing my soul. I shake my head no and feel a wave of relief wash over me.
"Not as bad as in the first two weeks. You'll want to give up, you'll want to go back because you think it's easier. But when that happens you have to remind yourself how far gone you where down."
Abby leans into me more forcefuly now, and I wrap my left arm around her, cradling her head with the right. I stroke her hair back from her forehead and tell her that she's strong. Her cynical laughter, the kind of laugh people have when they don't know to laugh or cry, is what comes from her.
"Not now, I'm letting you hold me like a baby." She mutters into my shoulder. Then that laugh of hers. Then the sniffle. Then the laugh. The dance we do.
"Sometimes we need to be held."
"I'm not supposed to need that." Abby whispers into my ear.
But look at what's happening, Abby. I think to myself.
Pleasent quiet settles in after that, but is quickly quaked by Abby stiffening against me.
"Ugh, I'm so..." She starts, trying to pull away, but I pull her back into me and she relaxes and lets me hold her upright.
"We all have our days." I say, then losen my grip. "But I'll be around on your bad ones. Your not alone." I almost cry with relief, remembering how badly I've wanted to say that to her.
I feel her breathing against me, and all I want to do is lean down and kiss her, but I know it's wrong. Ashamed, I turn away. I try to forget, but having her hands on my back isn't helping. I turn around, and those chocolate eyes of hers are full of forgiveness, and want. She wants what I want, and even though it's wrong, it would be equally as wrong to deny ourselves this one taste of happiness.
There's only now, there's only here.
Abby stands on her toes and pulls my face down to meet hers, and I kiss her lightly on the lips. Fireworks don't go off, and a band dosen't start to play, there's no clapping and there are no whistles. But there is that spark that we always had, that goes twisting through your guts and melts you every single time you make contact.
"I shouldn't have done that." I say.
"What did you do?" Abby snaps.
"We shouldn't."
She presses her lips together looking guilty. She thinks I didn't want it. I should feel guilty, but I can't get my eyes off of those lips of hers.
"I know." Abby sighs. "One step at a time." Her words make sence, but her tone is harsh.
"Unfourtunatly that's the way it is."
Please don't leave me again.
"I'd better go, I've already made myself look like a moron." She begins to stalk off into the shadows. As much as I want to run after her, I'm cemented to the ground. She's too tempting, much more than I remembered.
I crossed the line, but I'm only human. Guilty as charged. Steps are the key here, and if we skip one, she'll fall. I promised not to let that happen again, but I'm the one pushing it. No, we both are, we both need each other. I have to be the responsable one now, I can't let her down. I won't let her down, because that would kill me.
* * * *
End, Sombra de la Tormenta, Part Four: Those Kinds Of Days
* * * *
Author's Note: To all who've been wondering why I'm taking so long in finishing this story, I have an answer: I feel as if many fanfics start out strong and amazing, but then the author feels rushed to compleate the story, and finds a quick way to end it. I've done it myself, but seeing as how this is my favorite chapter story I've ever writen, I will not do that. My chapters will continue to be long, and I will do the best possible job I can editing. (Of course, with the wonderful help of my wonderful beta Sara.) There is to be one more chapter after this, and then an epilouge. Susan's line "it's going." Is stolen...erm, borrowed w/o permission...from Raine.g "There's only us. There's only here." Is a line from Rent, the musical by Jonathan Larson. (Which I strongly reccomend seeing, but *off* broadway...) Sujestions/Feedback/Flames...all welcome @ Rockarbaby@aol.com