AN: All the annoying emails have paid off. I know I should have/could have been faster…I've been in a rut of angst, considering what's happening on the show currently, so I couldn't bring myself to sit down and write MORE angst. But I did it. So here it is. As requested…chapter five. And I'm using a different format, because I couldn't really figure else how else to make this particular chapter work. So it starts off differently than the others. We'll go back to normal next time. The lyrics used are from the song "I Believe" by the group Diamond Rio…::swoon:: I am such a country music whore…

And we're still in Abby's POV, because…well…Carter's dead…::wooks:: and ::winks:: and *be patient, kids!* and *don't hate me. just trust me*

Chapter Five… "Nine Hours"

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Every now and then,

The softest breath upon my skin,

I feel you come back again

And it's like you haven't been

Gone a moment from my side

Like the tears were never cried

Like the hands of time were

Holding you and me

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"Abby?"

Is someone calling my name? Am I asleep?

"Abby, wake up…"

Yep. Sleeping.

Never waking up again.

So tired.

"C'mon Abby…get up…"

Fine.

I slowly and very unwillingly open my eyes, just enough to let in a crack of light.

Who the hell is waking me up?

And why the hell am I on the kitchen floor?

Curiosity, as usual, gets the better of me and I open my eyes completely.

Susan.

"Hey. Uh - are you okay? Did you…um…?"

I give her a look of confusion and glance around the apartment.

Then it hits me.

She thinks I passed out.

Shattered glass surrounds me.

I suppose I would have assumed the same thing if I were her.

And, suddenly, the memories of yesterday, last night, and my argument with Senor Cuervo come flooding back.

And I just want to go back to sleep. This is not something I want to remember.

I want to forget that he's gone.

John.

My Carter.

Looking at Susan again, I realize she's been staring at me with that look of worry, interest, and sympathy all mixed into one. And I hate that look. So much.

"What time is it?" It's the first time I've spoken in God-only-knows how long.

"It's almost 11 in the morning."

Nine hours. I managed to sleep nine whole hours and forget that yesterday ever happened. To dream that he was still beside me. Nine hours of peace.

Susan finally gives in and sits down beside me. "Abby…what happened here last night? Why didn't you call me? You know this is the last thing that Carter would have wanted -"

"I didn't." And her look is purely interest now. None of the other emotions. Just interest. "I wanted to. I needed to. I couldn't…I couldn't handle the thought of him being gone. I thought it would be okay to be here without him. I'm here without him all the time when he's working. But I couldn't do it. Everything in this damn place smells like him or belongs to him or…"

My voice trails off and Susan is silent for moment. Then I notice her gesture across the room, her voice light and yet worried at the same time. "What's with the mess? I mean, if you didn't drink…what happened?"

"Look, I really don't need this right now, okay?" I can't be proving my sobriety to my so-called best friend when all I can comprehend is that he's never coming back. "Susan, I swear to God, if you're going to interrogate me right now then I really would rather you just leave. And for that matter, how the hell did you even get in here?"

She raises her eyebrows at me and opens her mouth to speak, then thinks better of it. After a slight pause, she starts again. "Carter…gave me his key before he left. So I could check on you. And in case anything happened to him…"

Her words bring me back to reality with full force. I know he's gone. But hearing her mention it, even in such a subtle tone, just makes it all the more true.

I sigh deeply and bite my lip. It's all I know to do.

I can't seem to get my lungs filled completely. There's not enough air. Not enough life. Not enough…

Carter.

My hands are suddenly on my face and I'm acutely aware of the headache that is pounding its way into my skull. If I didn't know better, I'd honestly say I was hungover.

Before I realize what's happening, Susan grabs my hand and pulls it to her. The look on her face is again that of worry, interest, and sympathy. I want to kill that look.

But then I realize why that look is again directed toward me.

The ring. It's still on my finger. I forgot I had put it there.

But she says nothing. She just stands and takes my other hand, pulling me up as well.

"Let's get you some breakfast," she says with a smile, more of a demand than an offer.

What the hell. It'll get me out of this memory-infested apartment.

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And with all my heart, I'm sure

We're closer than we ever were

I don't have to hear or see

I've got all the proof I need

There are more than angels

Watching over me

I believe, oh I believe

---------------------------

"So?"

We're sitting at a table in the corner of the small bagel shop down the street from the apartment. So much for escaping memories. This is where Carter and I get breakfast on our days off together.

Blueberry bagel, lightly toasted with cream cheese and a large coffee. He's so predictable. So plain. So ordinary. And I love everything about him. I always will.

"What?" I ask, returning my attention to the woman sitting across from me.

She glares at me as if I'm completely brainless for not understanding that one simple word. "The ring? You want to explain that one to me, please?"

"You already know about it. I told you last night, and you said Carter had already shown it you, anyway." The sound of his name rolling off of my tongue hits me like a ton of bricks and I find myself, again, unable to breathe momentarily.

Susan apparently doesn't notice the pained look on my face, because she continues. "Yeah. He did. But why is it suddenly on your hand? Last night you told me that he never actually proposed."

I do not want to talk about this. At. All.

But I know Susan's worried about me. Rightfully so. She's not overstepping her bounds. I just don't want to talk about Carter. I don't know if I can right now. Not when the simple task of saying his name takes my breath away.

She's looking at me with patient eyes, however, and I figure - what the hell. Maybe it will get her off my back. For a while.

"I just…" Another deep sigh. "Last night - I just wanted to see…experience what might have been. Pretend like it still might be. I don't know…" I wave my hand in front of my face in an effort to dismiss the issue and move on.

Susan nods slowly, but I can tell that she thinks my disillusion of still wearing the ring right now is unhealthy. And I'm sure she's right. Wearing this ring and knowing that he's gone isn't going to make me feel any better. It's only going to keep me in denial longer. But I can't bear to take it off. Not now that it's actually there. On my finger. Where I've wanted to see it since I first laid eyes on this ring that fateful night that he almost proposed.

All I can do is bite my lip. I can't do it. It's not coming off. Not yet.

And I think she's reading my mind, because she places her hand over mine and whispers, "It's okay. In time…you'll be able to do it."

I close my eyes and shake my head slightly. I've never felt this weak in my life.

Even after Brian…I still felt some sense of self-control.

Not now. I can't seem to convince myself that it's wrong to cry. That it's wrong to feel helpless without him. That it's wrong to feel as if life is pointless now that he's gone.

This isn't who I am. I'm strong and independent. So why can I not stop depending on him?

I have to.

He's gone.

My mind wanders back to the thoughts and events of the previous night. "Susan…I didn't drink it. I swear…"

Now she's the one waving the discussion aside. "Forget about it. I believe you. I'm sorry for insinuating otherwise. I know how hard you've worked to get back on track. I just thought, for a split second, that if anything would drive you back to the bottle it would be…ya know…"

"You know what?" I ask bluntly, eyes wide. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Him. I don't want to think about it. Let's just make that something that we don't talk about. And let's get out of here," I say, pleading, as I stand and grab my purse. "This place reminds me of him, too. I just want to go to work. Stay busy."

She stands now, as well. "You're going in? Abby…I don't think…"

"I'm going. I can't stay in that apartment all day. And anywhere else I go, I'll still just think about it. I have to work. It's the only distraction, so please just get off my back about this…"

I realize I'm being a little harsh, and I sigh as my face softens a little.

Susan accepts my look as an apology and nods, finally taking a few steps toward the door. She turns and smiles, and I close my eyes for one more long pause before following her out into the hot Chicago morning.

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Now, when you die

Your life goes on

It doesn't end here when you're gone

Every soul is filled with light

It never ends, if I'm right

Our love can even reach across eternity

I believe, oh I believe

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This was definitely not a good idea.

Out of all the places to try to hide from memories of Carter and voices speaking his name, County General is not the one that I should have run to. Everywhere I look in this place, I see him. Hear him. Feel him.

Can't set foot in Trauma One. It's where he first kissed me. Where he happened upon my tattoo. Where we first…

Yeah. Can't go in there.

Drug lockup? Nope. Too many stolen moments, soft caresses, gentle kisses, sweet nothings whispered into my ear. Mark that off the list as well.

Nurses Station? Admit Desk? No way. In my mind, there he is. Exhausted from a days work, eyes shining brightly as he sees me walking toward him. Mouth forming the words "Beautiful Nurse" with a smile and a wink. Traditional greeting for those moments. The most appropriate and yet still affectionate thing that he could think to say in front of everyone else in the area. Subtle touches of my hand to his, sexual banter and innuendo in a code that only we understood, his hand grabbing my ass - or mine, his - whenever we passed one another. Clearly, those two locations are off limits.

And then there's the lounge. Which is absolutely impossible for me to enter. I tried it when I got here this morning. Won't be doing that again. Memories of him, asleep on the couch as I sneak up and leave a soft kiss on his forehead. Flashes of the times he held me in his arms in that room, whispering promises of commitment and kissing me with passion. Sitting beside him and holding his hand as he comforted me. Laughing with him about our latest adventures together. Teasing him with talk of 'seeing him off' before he would leave me on one of his many trips. And…yes…a sexual encounter or two. What can I say? Love makes you do crazy things, after all. It is, by far, the one place that I simply cannot be in right now.

So many other places that are part of my daily routine are now being completely and purposefully avoided.

A certain restroom. Casual banter and pilfered moments of affection, hidden from the others during fourteen days of solitary confinement that are branded into my memory. His lips upon my neck. My hands running through his hair. The inability to keep our hands off of one another. The morning after that first night of passion, with talk of another tattoo and his name plastered upon my arm. Smiles that simply wouldn't fade. Words of adoration and light touches upon my skin. No other restroom will ever be that romantic - that kinky.

Doc Magoo's. Sure, I wanted to be there yesterday. Now it's all too real. I can't. It's where so much happened. It's hot fudge sundaes. It's coffee and pie. It's our history.

The roof. My constant escape to solitary moments of thought and peace. But it's where we first began. It's where he brought me coffee and joked with me about keeping warm in an incubator. It's where we became friends on that fateful Valentine's night that changed him forever. In more ways than one, when you think about it. It's where he first proposed. Or at least made clear his intentions toward me. I never got the ring, but I'll never forget the look on his face. The feeling that rushed through my body when he screamed that he wanted to marry me. Sheer thrill. Nothing more. Nothing less. I can't be there either, now. It's too much.

And to top it all off, my wonderful subordinates - my lovely nursing staff - is in rare form today. If I ever thought they had hit their peak when it came to gossip before, I have surely been put in my place today. Every corner that I turn, every door that I open…I hear the remnants of a conversation involving me. And Carter. And the ring that still rests on my finger right now.

All day, they've been discussing my loss. My pain. My pitiful state. My ring.

And wondering, very loudly I might add, why it is that this ring has appeared now, only after he's gone.

I realize that they don't mean to be insensitive assholes, but…really. Can we please not discuss this? No one should discuss this. At least wait until my shift is over.

I shouldn't have come in.

But the other option was even worse.

It was either this…or the apartment.

Alone.

Again.

With nothing but my thoughts. No distractions at all.

And that would be…less than okay.

I wouldn't fall apart, though. I've decided that I can do this. I can be strong. I am strong. He believed that about me, and I want to prove to him that he was right. Even if he'll never see it happen.

I'm going to pull myself together and take this one minute at a time, and I know I can survive this. I love him. So much more than I ever told him. So much more than he ever knew.

And I miss him. No words can express how much. I always will. Missing him will never end.

But I can live without him. I don't want to. God knows I'd do anything…but I will make it. It's as much for myself as it is for him. I have to show myself that I'm resilient. That I am, in fact, the woman that he always told me he saw within my eyes.

He would want that for me. And I want that, too.

Not as much as I want him.

But I know I can do this.

I know he'll be with me every step of the way, watching over me. Guiding me. Just like when he was here.

And my heart still breaks with the longing to hold him. It hasn't stopped.

I'm not sure it ever will.

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Forever you're a part of me

Forever in the heart of me

I will hold you even longer

If I can

Oh the people who don't see the most

See that I believe in ghosts

If that makes me crazy, then I am

'Cause I believe, oh I believe

There are more than angels

Watching over me

I believe, oh I believe

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You likey? R/R and I'll get right on that next chapter…hmm…Heh. Good things in store. Like I said, I have this ALL planned out already…don't worry kids…hang in there, be patient with me. Angst is important, as we are all clearly learning lately with what's happening on the show…Gah! Okay…yeah…R/R and I'll be your best friend. Merci beaucoup.