Thank you all so much for the reviews I got for "Waterfalls" - it's the
reviews I get that inspire me to write more, so please keep them coming ;-)
Another Carby Standalone - Valentine's Day. And we all know what happened on this particular day not so long ago.
Disclaimer - I don't own Carter or Abby, or any of the previous events from ER described here.
*****
He took another sip of the hot liquid, gasping slightly as it's temperature reached the back of his throat. He attempted to wrap his coat even tighter around his shivering body, placing his cup down on the wall before doing so.
Three years.
He remembered as if it was yesterday.
The party before - Luka trying to pronounce candy hearts, Malucci retaining his normal attitude, the beat of the music in the background filling the waiting room.
The look on her face when he found her. Scared, alone, helpless - her eyes showing every ounce of fear felt within her aching body.
He'd whispered her name. He wasn't sure whether it was an outburst of shock, or simply to let her know he was there. If it was the latter, then it was too little, too late. He remembered the words he's spoken to her mother, a week after it happened.
"She was much better than I ever gave her credit for."
And she was. There was no doubt about that.
Lying in recovery, he knew. Benton didn't even have to open his mouth. He knew.
He snapped himself out of his daze, and picked up his cup again. Although he often retreated to the roof when things got too much, there was a reason he had come up today.
He was reliving the only remotely good part of what was quite possibly the worst day of his life.
"I'd like to see you in an incubator in the NICU."
He smiled ever so slightly. If only he'd gone to the NICU that evening. If only he'd been protected in an incubator.
But he hadn't. More from the conversation that they'd shared creeped into his mind.
"You never get used to it. At least I haven't. So, you may have come up here to be alone, but you're not."
She wasn't alone.
She wasn't alone then, she's not alone now.
And if he had his way, she'd never be alone for the rest of her life.
With a sigh, he dumped his cup in the trash can on the roof. He took one last look around - the buildings, the lights, the faint rumble of traffic - and slipped back through the door.
Time to go home.
----------
Running her fingers through her newly washed hair, she caught a glance at herself in the mirror. Her mind wandered back to a conversation a few days ago in the lounge.
"Valentine's is coming up."
He'd looked away from her at this point, choosing instead to rummage through his locker supposedly for his wallet.
"I'm working that day."
"Do you think that's a."
"I'm working, Abby."
She brought herself back to the present, still staring at her reflection. What tonight would bring was anybody's guess.
Three years.
Some would say it was a long time - but for the people involved it seemed like yesterday.
Tightening the sash around her robe, she moved into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. Reaching for a mug, she spotted a long green bottle on the top shelf of the cupboard. Opened, and yet full to the brim.
And that's the way it would stay.
After placing the granules into the cup, she poured the hot water in, letting off a small cloud of steam. Lifting the mug to her lips, she was just about to take a sip when she heard a key turn in the lock. She made her way slowly towards the entrance of the apartment.
He opened the door slowly, dropping his satchel on the floor as soon as he was inside. Usually he would collapse straight onto the couch, reeling in it's comfort after a typically hectic day in the ER.
Tonight was different.
He wanted a different kind of comfort.
Their eyes met across the room, and for a while they just gazed at each other. This was new territory.
Topics had been covered, stories shared, anecdotes remembered - but this was untouched. Throughout most of their relationship, she'd been the one seeking comfort. She'd been the one needing him to hold her, hearing him tell her everything was going to be OK. Even though she pushed him away, he wouldn't let her go, and it meant the world to her. She couldn't live without it.
Tonight was different.
The roles were reversed.
She walked slowly over towards him, and reached out her hand. Immediately, he took it. She lead him to the couch, sat down, and in an instant he was lying with his head in her lap.
Their hands were still joined, and the silence was still unbroken. She played absent-mindedly with the front section of his hair, twisting it into different directions. Her hands began to fall lower down his hairline, and as they reached his cheeks she was aware of her fingers becoming wet.
She sighed.
Tonight was different.
She brought her hand that was holding his up to her mouth, and kissed his skin lightly. He flinched slightly, and then nestled himself deeper into her arms.
She didn't know what to say that had already been said.
But sometimes things aren't always about words. Sometimes it's not about what she says, it's not about what he says, its was about how they both feel.
And both knew that at this point there was no other place they'd rather be.
They stayed in the same position for what seemed like hours. His head was rising and falling with her breaths - something that had lulled him to a peaceful sleep many a night before.
Suddenly, he moved onto his feet. She looked at him concerned, her eyes giving away her worry. He gave her hand a squeeze before moving out of her sight into her bedroom.
She stayed where she was for a while, contemplating the situation. She wanted so much to make things better, to put things right, and yet she knew she couldn't.
But she could try.
She returned to the kitchen, and poured the remains of her coffee away. Moving back towards the lounge, she flicked off the light switch in the kitchen, and did the same in the lounge. The only light in the apartment was the dim glow coming from her bedside lamp.
She followed the glow, which took her into the bedroom where he lay on her bed, dressed in boxer shorts and a t-shirt.
His back faced the door, and she couldn't tell if he was asleep or not.
Deciding not to disturb him at least for a few minutes, she brushed her teeth, undressed, and put on Carter's old sweatshirt that she loved to sleep in.
On returning from the bathroom, she saw that he'd changed positions. He was lying on his back, his head turned towards her, looking at her intently.
The glow still dimly lighting up the room, she climbed into her side of the bed, sitting crossed legged by his thighs. Reaching over, she resumed twisting his hair.
Slowly, she made her way down his neck to his shoulders, tracing light patterns across his t-shirt.
They both knew what was coming next. She shifted positions slightly so that she could see his eyes. They were still fixated on her, and even though Abby rarely saw this side of him she knew that more tears were threatening to fall.
Lifting the bottom seam of his clothing up, she made contact with his lower back. More patterns were traced, but gradually she lowered herself and began to plant light kisses across his skin.
The hairs on his back stood on end, and she felt him shudder a few times as her kisses became more frequent.
She made her way around to his neck again, resuming her kissing.
It was time to say something. The silence around them was becoming deafening.
Reaching his ear, she whispered into it.
"I love you. I know I don't say it enough. But I love you."
And that's when it happened. The wall broke, the barriers were knocked down, and the tears the had been threatening to fall were freed.
He turned his head away from her, breaking their eye contact. Undeterred, she lay down next to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind, nestling her head in the back of his neck.
She moved her hand to grasp his, stroking it lightly, she could feel his breathing calm slightly, and this was enough to raise a smile on her lips.
He spoke softly.
"I've never had anyone here with me to deal with this before. I guess that's made me keep it inside, almost pretending it didn't happen."
She snuggled up closer to him, running her nose up and down the back of his neck. He continued.
"When you saw me shoot up in the trauma room, and then I went to Atlanta, I was grateful for all the help I got. Eventually anyway - I didn't act too pleased at the time. But part of me felt like it was only done for the good of the hospital, you know?"
She answered in almost a whisper.
"Yeah. I know."
"My mother was called, but she didn't come. Did I ever tell you that? She didn't come because she was away on business. I told her I was fine, and that she didn't need to come, but."
His voice trailed off gradually.
They lay in silence again for a while. She was still stroking his hand, and he now had his other hand on her thigh.
She thought back to when she told Mark and Kerry what she'd seen. She wasn't sure at the time that it was the right thing to do, but she was so glad now that she'd done it. He told her once in Doc Magoos that she probably saved his life.
And now she knew that by doing that, she may well have saved her own.
"That was the first time you told me that." His voice brought her out of her thoughts.
"Told you what?"
He paused slightly, and swallowed.
"Told me you loved me."
Again, she smiled slightly, and adjusted her position to kiss him on the cheek.
"Like I said, I don't say it enough."
She stayed with her face above his, this time rubbing her nose along his cheek.
"Carter?"
He turned to look into her eyes.
"Just because I don't say it often it doesn't mean I feel it any less. You know that, right?"
This time it was his turn to smile.
"Now I do."
She wiped the remaining tears off his cheeks, and resumed her original position against his back - almost protectively.
She gave him one last kiss on the back of his neck before closing the distance between them further, and closing her eyes slowly.
Gradually, peacefully, they both fell asleep.
He wasn't alone.
Maybe he was alone back then, but he wasn't alone now.
And if she had her way, he'd never be alone for the rest of his life.
*****
Thanks for reading, and please review :-)
Another Carby Standalone - Valentine's Day. And we all know what happened on this particular day not so long ago.
Disclaimer - I don't own Carter or Abby, or any of the previous events from ER described here.
*****
He took another sip of the hot liquid, gasping slightly as it's temperature reached the back of his throat. He attempted to wrap his coat even tighter around his shivering body, placing his cup down on the wall before doing so.
Three years.
He remembered as if it was yesterday.
The party before - Luka trying to pronounce candy hearts, Malucci retaining his normal attitude, the beat of the music in the background filling the waiting room.
The look on her face when he found her. Scared, alone, helpless - her eyes showing every ounce of fear felt within her aching body.
He'd whispered her name. He wasn't sure whether it was an outburst of shock, or simply to let her know he was there. If it was the latter, then it was too little, too late. He remembered the words he's spoken to her mother, a week after it happened.
"She was much better than I ever gave her credit for."
And she was. There was no doubt about that.
Lying in recovery, he knew. Benton didn't even have to open his mouth. He knew.
He snapped himself out of his daze, and picked up his cup again. Although he often retreated to the roof when things got too much, there was a reason he had come up today.
He was reliving the only remotely good part of what was quite possibly the worst day of his life.
"I'd like to see you in an incubator in the NICU."
He smiled ever so slightly. If only he'd gone to the NICU that evening. If only he'd been protected in an incubator.
But he hadn't. More from the conversation that they'd shared creeped into his mind.
"You never get used to it. At least I haven't. So, you may have come up here to be alone, but you're not."
She wasn't alone.
She wasn't alone then, she's not alone now.
And if he had his way, she'd never be alone for the rest of her life.
With a sigh, he dumped his cup in the trash can on the roof. He took one last look around - the buildings, the lights, the faint rumble of traffic - and slipped back through the door.
Time to go home.
----------
Running her fingers through her newly washed hair, she caught a glance at herself in the mirror. Her mind wandered back to a conversation a few days ago in the lounge.
"Valentine's is coming up."
He'd looked away from her at this point, choosing instead to rummage through his locker supposedly for his wallet.
"I'm working that day."
"Do you think that's a."
"I'm working, Abby."
She brought herself back to the present, still staring at her reflection. What tonight would bring was anybody's guess.
Three years.
Some would say it was a long time - but for the people involved it seemed like yesterday.
Tightening the sash around her robe, she moved into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. Reaching for a mug, she spotted a long green bottle on the top shelf of the cupboard. Opened, and yet full to the brim.
And that's the way it would stay.
After placing the granules into the cup, she poured the hot water in, letting off a small cloud of steam. Lifting the mug to her lips, she was just about to take a sip when she heard a key turn in the lock. She made her way slowly towards the entrance of the apartment.
He opened the door slowly, dropping his satchel on the floor as soon as he was inside. Usually he would collapse straight onto the couch, reeling in it's comfort after a typically hectic day in the ER.
Tonight was different.
He wanted a different kind of comfort.
Their eyes met across the room, and for a while they just gazed at each other. This was new territory.
Topics had been covered, stories shared, anecdotes remembered - but this was untouched. Throughout most of their relationship, she'd been the one seeking comfort. She'd been the one needing him to hold her, hearing him tell her everything was going to be OK. Even though she pushed him away, he wouldn't let her go, and it meant the world to her. She couldn't live without it.
Tonight was different.
The roles were reversed.
She walked slowly over towards him, and reached out her hand. Immediately, he took it. She lead him to the couch, sat down, and in an instant he was lying with his head in her lap.
Their hands were still joined, and the silence was still unbroken. She played absent-mindedly with the front section of his hair, twisting it into different directions. Her hands began to fall lower down his hairline, and as they reached his cheeks she was aware of her fingers becoming wet.
She sighed.
Tonight was different.
She brought her hand that was holding his up to her mouth, and kissed his skin lightly. He flinched slightly, and then nestled himself deeper into her arms.
She didn't know what to say that had already been said.
But sometimes things aren't always about words. Sometimes it's not about what she says, it's not about what he says, its was about how they both feel.
And both knew that at this point there was no other place they'd rather be.
They stayed in the same position for what seemed like hours. His head was rising and falling with her breaths - something that had lulled him to a peaceful sleep many a night before.
Suddenly, he moved onto his feet. She looked at him concerned, her eyes giving away her worry. He gave her hand a squeeze before moving out of her sight into her bedroom.
She stayed where she was for a while, contemplating the situation. She wanted so much to make things better, to put things right, and yet she knew she couldn't.
But she could try.
She returned to the kitchen, and poured the remains of her coffee away. Moving back towards the lounge, she flicked off the light switch in the kitchen, and did the same in the lounge. The only light in the apartment was the dim glow coming from her bedside lamp.
She followed the glow, which took her into the bedroom where he lay on her bed, dressed in boxer shorts and a t-shirt.
His back faced the door, and she couldn't tell if he was asleep or not.
Deciding not to disturb him at least for a few minutes, she brushed her teeth, undressed, and put on Carter's old sweatshirt that she loved to sleep in.
On returning from the bathroom, she saw that he'd changed positions. He was lying on his back, his head turned towards her, looking at her intently.
The glow still dimly lighting up the room, she climbed into her side of the bed, sitting crossed legged by his thighs. Reaching over, she resumed twisting his hair.
Slowly, she made her way down his neck to his shoulders, tracing light patterns across his t-shirt.
They both knew what was coming next. She shifted positions slightly so that she could see his eyes. They were still fixated on her, and even though Abby rarely saw this side of him she knew that more tears were threatening to fall.
Lifting the bottom seam of his clothing up, she made contact with his lower back. More patterns were traced, but gradually she lowered herself and began to plant light kisses across his skin.
The hairs on his back stood on end, and she felt him shudder a few times as her kisses became more frequent.
She made her way around to his neck again, resuming her kissing.
It was time to say something. The silence around them was becoming deafening.
Reaching his ear, she whispered into it.
"I love you. I know I don't say it enough. But I love you."
And that's when it happened. The wall broke, the barriers were knocked down, and the tears the had been threatening to fall were freed.
He turned his head away from her, breaking their eye contact. Undeterred, she lay down next to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind, nestling her head in the back of his neck.
She moved her hand to grasp his, stroking it lightly, she could feel his breathing calm slightly, and this was enough to raise a smile on her lips.
He spoke softly.
"I've never had anyone here with me to deal with this before. I guess that's made me keep it inside, almost pretending it didn't happen."
She snuggled up closer to him, running her nose up and down the back of his neck. He continued.
"When you saw me shoot up in the trauma room, and then I went to Atlanta, I was grateful for all the help I got. Eventually anyway - I didn't act too pleased at the time. But part of me felt like it was only done for the good of the hospital, you know?"
She answered in almost a whisper.
"Yeah. I know."
"My mother was called, but she didn't come. Did I ever tell you that? She didn't come because she was away on business. I told her I was fine, and that she didn't need to come, but."
His voice trailed off gradually.
They lay in silence again for a while. She was still stroking his hand, and he now had his other hand on her thigh.
She thought back to when she told Mark and Kerry what she'd seen. She wasn't sure at the time that it was the right thing to do, but she was so glad now that she'd done it. He told her once in Doc Magoos that she probably saved his life.
And now she knew that by doing that, she may well have saved her own.
"That was the first time you told me that." His voice brought her out of her thoughts.
"Told you what?"
He paused slightly, and swallowed.
"Told me you loved me."
Again, she smiled slightly, and adjusted her position to kiss him on the cheek.
"Like I said, I don't say it enough."
She stayed with her face above his, this time rubbing her nose along his cheek.
"Carter?"
He turned to look into her eyes.
"Just because I don't say it often it doesn't mean I feel it any less. You know that, right?"
This time it was his turn to smile.
"Now I do."
She wiped the remaining tears off his cheeks, and resumed her original position against his back - almost protectively.
She gave him one last kiss on the back of his neck before closing the distance between them further, and closing her eyes slowly.
Gradually, peacefully, they both fell asleep.
He wasn't alone.
Maybe he was alone back then, but he wasn't alone now.
And if she had her way, he'd never be alone for the rest of his life.
*****
Thanks for reading, and please review :-)