Ring Around The Rosie

An ER fan fiction by AbCaLuDa

Chapter 5

"There are other options," he says, but he's shaking his head too. He knows the answer already. He knows I can't have the baby. I can't carry it inside of me, feel it growing there, living because of me, and then give it up. To strangers. I can't take the risk that the baby would be sick, like my mother. I can't live my life never knowing, always wondering, fearing someday someone will show up at my door, son or daughter, sick or maybe by some miracle not sick…

"I can't, Carter. I can't…" I moan. I'm pathetic. Horrible.

"I know." His voice has that raspy quality he gets when his emotions are all out of whack. He sounds like he might cry. I don't want him to cry for me. I don't deserve that. I don't deserve him, his friendship, his love.

I reach up, put my palm against his cheek. He feels so warm. So wonderfully warm. "I need to be alone."

He nods and reaches up to squeeze my hand. For just a moment our fingers entwine then he lets go, backs up, stands. He looks back from the door, smiles his beautiful quirky Carter smile. If he ever has kids I think it would be a sin if they didn't inherit that smile.

"You know how to find me if you need me."

I nod and he's gone. Just like that. The door swings shut behind him. I close my eyes for a moment, and I imagine what it would be like to hold my newborn baby. I can see the child wrapped up in the receiving blanket, a little knit cap on his head. Her head. Its head. My baby's head.

The tears came then, and I knew I couldn't make it stop. I turned on my side, burying my face in the pillow. My life sucks. Some part of me wonders what I have done to deserve this. I mean, why me? I am not fit to be a mother, obviously, because mothers don't think about killing their children. At least they're not supposed to. A mother is supposed to love, and sacrifice, and do anything for their babies. All I want is for this whole thing to go away. Why can't I just wake up, in my bed, in Luka's arms, and this whole day was just some crazy nightmare?

I like to sleep with my head on his chest. He makes a great pillow. And I love how he keeps his hand in my hair, his fingers lightly scratching at my head.

I guess that will never happen again. He hates me. He should hate me. I can't blame him if he never wants to see my face again. I don't even want to see my own face again. I wonder how long I can go through life without looking in a mirror?

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"Miss, Miss, we're here," the cab driver's voice pulls me out of the haze of trying to concentrate on my breathing so I won't have to think about what I'm doing. I give him money for the fare and a little extra for a tip. He thanks me and I climb out of the car. He drives away and I watch him until the unmistakable yellow fades to a dot on the horizon, then nothing.

I take one step toward the clinic. Another. One foot in front of the other. And suddenly I don't think I can take even one more step.

My hands are on my stomach. Protecting the baby. My baby. A life inside me. Dependant on my. Counting on me.

I can't do this.

I turn away, the other direction. There was a gas station on the corner. Why can't I remember Carter's number?

My hands are shaking. I'm not sure I can even dial. I pick up the receiver, drop the two quarters I need to put in the slot.

I feel like the whole world is spinning out of control. I see my mother's face. Richard. Luka. Carter. All of them blending into one, spinning around like a crazy kaleidoscope. I can't breathe. I want to die.

Dying would be so much easier than this.

I have to get those quarters. I have to call Carter. Carter will come get me. Carter will make everything all right. I bend down, holding on to the pay phone receiver. I can't let go of it. Right now it feels like the only thing I've got to hold on to.

I drop the quarters in the slot. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, offer a silent prayer that he is home. My fingers know the number even if my mind doesn't. They jump frantically, I feel like I have no control.

One ring. Two. Come one Carter. Please, God. Let him be home. Three. Carter, I need you. Please. I don't know what I'll do if you're not home, Carter. Four rings. Please.

"Yeah?" The sound of his voice breaks something in me. I can't breathe. Tears spill from my eyes. "Hello? Who is this? Hello?" He sounds irritated.

I take a deep breath to try to steady myself. I open my mouth, but I can't form words. Only a moan. A helpless moan.

"Abby? Abby, is that you? Abby, where are you?"

I hit my head against the phone box. I don't even know if that's what it's called. What else could it be called?

"Abby, you have to tell me where you are. I can't come get you if I don't know where you are. Abby, are you all right?"

"Fifth street," I manage through the tears. E sucks his breath in. He knows about the clinic on Fifth street. "Please…"

"I'm on my way, Abby. Don't go anywhere. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

I nod. I don't care that he can't see me. The line goes dead. I hold on to the receiver. I used to wonder if people ever really slid to the floor in real life like they do in the movies sometimes…

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