Title: I Wish

Disclaimer: I own nothing of great value, and that includes Abby, Carter and the other cohorts of ER. Those belong to The Powers That Be and the kind folks at Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement is ever intended. I write because I like to write, and I share because I want to.

Spoilers for "Tell Me Where It Hurts".

AN: I heart this show.

I failed him.

When he needed me the most… When the world came crashing down around him… I failed him. I practically handed him over to the authorities. Here you go. My baby brother. Sorry, Eric. If past is prologue, I know you were expecting me to look out for you, to keep you safe. But not this time. I screwed up. My doubts and fears got the best of me. Unfortunately, you're the one who's going to pay the price for the mistakes I made today.

I bring my hands up to my head, rubbing them over my face and through my hair. The warm spray of the shower beats at my back and I stand there - motionless - for what seems like an eternity. Thinking.

I can't change anything.

What's done is done.

I reach behind myself and nab the bottle of shampoo off the shelf. Popping the top open, I pour some soap into my palm, flip the cap and return the bottle back to its spot. I begin to run my hands through my hair again, more diligently now, my fingers mingling with the locks and lather.

Is this what you wanted Abby? Huh? Are you happy now? Yeah, that's right. Lock me up and throw away the key. Eric's been a bad boy. Thanks a lot, Abby. Thanks!

Looking back, I probably did him more harm than good. I was so wrapped up in trying to protect him from what was happening with Maggie, I forgot to protect him from what was happening with me. I took full responsibility for anything and everything that happened in the family, and the burden quickly weighed me down. There were times when I'd just let it all out on him. I'd yell at him and call him names just to vent at someone who I knew would understand. And he did. But that didn't make it fair to him.

He was such a good kid.

I rinse my hair thoroughly and yank off the shower. Pulling back the curtain, I retrieve a towel off the rack and use it to wipe dry my face and wrap my hair. Taking another towel, I encircle it around my body and step out of the bathtub.

I swipe my hand across the steamed bathroom mirror and reach for my toothbrush. I grab the first one my hand comes across, only to realize that it's Carter's. Putting it back, I find my own resting next to it and run it under the tap before I apply the paste. I begin to work the brush over my teeth, my gaze transfixed on the reflected image in the mirror. Looking for the signs…

Twenty-seven. Seems like just yesterday he was five years old. Running up and down the sidewalk, arms out, making 'airplane noises' with his mouth.

Bet'cha I can make you laugh, Abby.

And he would.

He was always talking. Making up stories. A curly-haired little boy with wide-eyed imagination. A little boy with a genuine curiosity for the world around him.

I'm going to be a pilot some day, Abby. Just you wait. I'm gonna fly jets. You're gonna be so proud of me.

Through the worst of it, he was there. For me. Always.

He was the one I confided in. He was the one I cried to. At night, near the beginning of it all, I'd creep into his room, just to watch him sleep. Just to see the peace. I wanted him to be oblivious to everything, but deep down, I knew he wasn't. I knew my brother, and he was smarter than I needed him to be. He was hurting, too, and I refused to see it.

Why Eric?

I spit the remaining paste out of my mouth, rinsing out my brush and mopping the sink. Stepping back, I unwrap the towel from my head, bending over to letting my hair fall forward in front of me. Taking my fingers, I try to run them through, cursing when they snag together. I forgot the damn conditioner again. I straighten and throw myself a glare in the mirror. Turning, I reach over to the shelf in the shower again, pulling the bottle of conditioner from its spot. I squeeze a small amount into my hand and put the bottle back before I rub my hands together and work the cream in. Picking up my brush, I comb it through my hair a few times until I'm satisfied the kinks have disappeared. I twist my tresses tightly to dispel any excess water. I look back in the mirror.

I wish all my problems were this easily solved.

I wipe my hands on the towel covering my torso and turn for the door to the bedroom. I open it and shiver a little as a gust of cool air greets me. I move about the bedroom, searching for my bathrobe. I could have sworn I'd seen it earlier. The item catches my eye, hanging over a chair in the corner, and I snatch it up quickly, draping it around my body for warmth. As I remove the towel and tie the belt on the robe, my ears are drawn towards conversation in the next room. I inch towards the door. Who's here? There's a pause and I listen for a response. I look towards my phone receiver and notice the "in use" light illuminated. A realization strikes me. Maybe it's Eric.

I shake my head. It can't be. Carter would have gotten me out of the shower if it had been Eric. He's probably still in transport. Besides, if he did get to call, I wouldn't think I'd be at the top of his phone list. No. Not tonight.

I go to the bathroom and hang up the towels, shutting off the light when I'm done. Back in the bedroom I flip on the lamp on the nightstand and turn back the quilt on the bed.

I don't know why. It's not like I'll be getting much sleep tonight.

You're just going through the motions, Abby.

I return to the living room just as he's hanging up the phone. He spots me in the doorway and gives me a comforting smile.

"Feeling better?"

I shrug my shoulders and blink slowly, biting my lower lip.

He nods and closes the distance between us. I reach out for him, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him to me. I bury my face in his chest for the second time that night.

"Who was on the phone?"

I can feel his hands stroking my back through the robe.

"Jodie. She wanted to know if we'd heard from him."

I pull back slightly to look up at him. "What did you say?"

He pauses for a moment before answering. "I told her he'd phoned to say he was on his way back to the base." He tips his head. "I said we'd buy her a bus ticket home."

I nod. "Okay."

He glances up at the ceiling briefly. "She was really worried, but I couldn't tell her…"

"… Yeah."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can feel a hand lift off my back. Seconds later his fingers graze my cheek as his lips make contact with my forehead.

All at once the tears return. I don't fight them. I can't.

He draws me closer once again, resting his chin atop my head. I sigh and tighten my grip around him, inhaling his scent. It's remarkable how this man can calm me without using any words at all.

If I could, I would crawl inside of him. Just to escape. From all my doubts. My fears. I need to be totally and completely engulfed by him right now.

I feel so safe with him. So protected.

But I'm not the one who needs protecting.

He can read my thoughts. "You should call her."

"Not now."

"Abby…"

"Not now," I reiterate, reluctantly sagging out of his embrace. I pad my way into the kitchen, open a cupboard and grab a glass off the shelf. Turning on the faucet, I let the water run for half a minute before filling the glass. I know he's watching me. I can picture him leaning up against the doorframe, arms crossed, waiting for me to speak. I empty half the contents of the glass and turn around, my eyes meeting his. I was right.

I lean against the counter. "I can't."

"Okay."

"I don't want to worry her."

"It's okay."

I look down at the glass in my hands. "I mean, when I know something, I'll tell her. But…"

"Abby…"

I raise my head. There's so much there. So much emotion conveyed in one look. It's as if he wants me to feel his heart breaking along with mine.

I do.

"… It's okay."

We share the silence for a few seconds. I shrug and shake my head, placing my glass in the sink. I look around the kitchen, mindedly searching for something.

"What did you do with the wine?"

His eyes snap to life at my inquiry. "I took it across the hall to Lena."

I nod, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry I bought it."

"You don't need to apologize."

"I feel I should."

He sighs.

I push away from the counter and make for the living room again. As I pass him, he catches my hand and pulls me back.

"What are you doing?"

I turn around and look up at him.

I sigh. "I don't know."

"Come on…" He drops my hand and places both of his on my shoulders, turning and steering me towards the bedroom. "Let me put you to bed. We'll be able to do more in the morning."

I shake my head and wiggle out of his grip, side stepping the doorway and veering back towards the couch.

"No. I don't think I can sleep."

I sit down on the couch and bring my knees up to my chin, looking around the apartment.

"Why do I feel so useless?"

He comes and sits down beside me, adjusting his position so he's facing me. One of his hands comes up to caress the back of my neck. I hang my head, giving him easier access. His touch is soothing. I want to bottle it up and save it for when…

"I meant what I said. You're not alone in this, Abby."

I draw my head upwards and look into the eyes of the most amazing man in the world. I purse my lips together. How did I get so lucky?

"I know."

My voice is quiet, timid. I'm on the verge of tears again.

He notices this and pulls away, backing up, settling himself in the corner of the couch.

He opens his arms. "Come here."

I oblige, scooting over. I turn around and lay back against his chest, my hands folded across my abdomen.

We sit like this for several minutes. Silent. Resting. His hands move up and down my arms gently, massaging them through the cotton of my robe. I close my eyes, treasuring every moment I have with him.

"It's so unfair..." I whisper.

"I know." He voice is just as low as my own, the vibrations of his chest reverberating through my head.

"Why Eric? Why now?"

He kisses the top of my head. "I wish I had the answers to those questions. I really wish I did."

"I can't lose him. I just… I can't."

"You won't. We'll get him help."

I draw in a shuddered breath and grab one of his hands, lacing my fingers through his.

"He was such a good kid. And he took the brunt of all the frustration. From Maggie. From me…

"… But he never complained. Not once. He knew. He understood…

"… You should have seen the look on his face. When they took him. He was so angry. So scared…

"… I thought I'd gotten him past this. I thought we were in the clear. I thought… I thought we'd made it…

"… I wish I could take this from him. I wish… I wish it would have been me."

I finish and take another deep breath, waiting for his response. Waiting for him to tell me everything is going to be okay. That we'll get through this. That we'll help him, just like we helped my mother. Together. I need him to tell me that he'll never leave me.

I need him to tell me again.

He clears his throat, and I anticipate his reply.

"You know, for years… After Bobby died… I couldn't forgive myself for not being a better brother. That maybe if I'd done one thing differently, he would have lived. I know now that's not true. But, back then, I wished the same thing you wish now. I wanted it to be me."

I bite my lip and look at our entwined fingers. "Oh, Carter."

I can feel his chest rise and fall underneath me.

"Abby, I want to lie to you and tell you that everything is going to be okay. But that wouldn't be fair. I wish I had trusted your instincts before. We might have gotten Eric some help earlier."

I shake my head. "He would have refused." I angle my face up to meet his gaze. "You can't blame yourself."

He strokes the side of my face. "Neither can you."

I look down briefly and nod.

"Abby…"

"I know."

"We'll get him help, Abby. We'll get him through this. We'll get ourselves through this."

"Okay."

I sniff and rub my hand across my face. Somewhere in our conversation, the tears resurfaced, staining my cheeks.

"I wish there was some way I could take all this pain from you."

I smile weakly and rest my head back against his chest, taking one of his hands in both of mine. Turning it over, I trace his palm with my fingertip before I bring it to my face, kissing it lightly.

"You're doing a better job than you think."

I take both of his hands in mine and wrap his arms around me tightly.

"What have I done to deserve you?"

Easy laughter emanates from within his chest. "Do you really want me to give you the list? We could be here awhile."

I can't help but smile. "I've got nowhere else to be." I twist around and look up at him. "Do you?"

He returns my smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good, then. I believe we've got all night."

He tips his head to the side. "Well… Okay. But I'll warn you. It's quite the lengthy list. You'd be hard pressed to find anyone who's as committed to you as I am. If you don't want to run away with me after this, I -- "

I cut him off with a finger to his lips. "Shh… "

He frowns.

"… I just need you."

He smiles widely and pulls me closer to him. Leaning down, his lips touch mine softly in a kiss that touches me. Moves me. My fears. My doubts. Washed away by his love.

"You've got me."

***