Title: Traditions

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 'Hindsight'.

Notes: Carby Christmas to all, and to all a good night. ;o)

Of all the times for him to be away.

Christmas.

I know he'll be back for the holiday. I know how much he really wanted to see his dad. Spend time with him. And I know he's probably missing me as much as I miss him.

But still.

I was just starting to enjoy the season.

I shut off the tap and dry my hands on the towel hanging next to the sink. Shutting off the light to the bathroom, I busy around in the adjoining room, getting ready for bed.

I'd gotten off only an hour before, having snared myself a reprieve while the ER was calm. It had really been quite the day. Strange.

I waited long enough to be assured that Harkins was out of surgery and would make a full recovery. The gossip train was running through the rest of the staff, and I wanted no part of it. Luka, after having talked to the police, was sent home by cab. I couldn't help but feel for him as he walked out the doors. Though, not as much as I felt for the young med-student lying unconscious on a gurney three floors above us.

What sort of downward spiral was he on? When did it start?

It was too much for me to put my head around tonight. In the morning, maybe things would look clearer.

And so, I went home. Left the stories and the chatter behind. If the truth wants to be revealed, it will come eventually.

I pull back the covers on the bed. It'll be weird sleeping alone tonight, knowing he's a thousand miles away and not just working a night shift. It was disappointing to come home tonight to an empty message bank on my answering machine. Even something short, like an "I miss you" or an "I love you". Just something to let me know that he's thinking about me… Even though I never doubt that he is.

I make sure to set my alarm for my morning shift.

I'm grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen when I hear the phone ring. It rings twice more before I'm able to grab the phone in the bedroom.

I look at the clock. It's after midnight in Boston. He wouldn't call now.

It's probably Susan asking if I want to go out.

I hit the talk button as I sit down on the bed. "Hello?"

"Hey! You're home."

My heart skips at the sound of the voice on the other end.

"You didn't think I'd be home?"

"I thought maybe you'd be out doing… The girl thing."

I shake my head and begin to trace the pattern on the sheets with my finger.

"And you thought you'd call anyway, even though I wasn't home?"

He pauses before answering. "I was toying with the idea of whispering sweet nothings to the answering machine."

"Oh." I blush. "Well, then… Just give me a minute to hang up."

He laughs. "Or I could just relay the message to you."

I smile. "Mmm… I'd probably like that."

"I know you would."

"So… How's your Dad?"

He sighs. "He's doing okay… I guess. It's all about work with him. No time to relax."

"Aww… You're not having a good time?"

"No, no. I am. It's just… Hard. That's all."

I bite my lip. "I know."

"Yeah. Hey… How was your day?"

"Oh…"

I take a deep breath and push myself back on the bed, resting against the headboard and crossing my legs underneath me.

He notices my pause. "What's wrong?"

I sigh. "Something happened today."

I can almost hear his eyebrows rise in curiosity. "Really?"

"It's not good."

"Oh. Is everything okay?"

"Umm…"

Just say it Abby. He's going to find out soon enough.

"Erin Harkins was in a car accident."

"What?"

"Tonight. She was on her way home and…"

"Is she okay?"

I close my eyes. This wasn't going to be easy. "Uh, not really. She lacerated her liver and had some other internal injuries."

"Abby…"

"They took her up to surgery and were able to repair all of it. She's stable, now."

One the other end, I hear him sigh with relief.

"She wasn't driving, was she? Who hit her?"

"No, she wasn't driving." I sigh. "Look… It's really a long story."

"Too long for you to tell me?" He asks, a twinge of hurt in his voice.

"No, no… I will tell you. Just… Later." I smile. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. How's the tree look?"

I sit up. "The tree? Oh, um…"

I get off the bed and return to the living room. There, in the corner by the window, stands a five foot blue fir. Lights, ornaments and tinsel hang from its branches. It's nothing too elaborate, but it's nice to have around – especially now.

"The tree is fine."

"Good. Don't forget to water it."

I shake my head. "I won't forget to water it."

"Did you find the star, yet?"

"No," I reply, thinking back to our apartment wide search for the missing decoration a few days ago.

"Maybe you should look underneath the tree."

I roll my eyes. "John, we looked everywhere. It's gone."

"Would you just look underneath the tree?"

I sigh. "Fine. I'll look underneath the tree." I crouch down and peer under the bottom branches. A brightly wrapped box immediately catches my attention.

"Did you find it?"

I pull the package out. "What's this?"

"Just something I thought we could use. Open it."

I move over to the couch and sit down. I tuck the phone into the cranny of my neck and begin to unwrap the gift, starting with the bow.

"When did you have time to do this?"

"While you were at work yesterday."

I tear away the wrapping and open the top of the box. There, lying in a bed of styro beads, is a gold and crystal star.

I gasp.

"It's nothing fancy," He admits.

"No…" I gently lift the ornament out of its protective environment. "It's perfect."

I stand up and approach the tree.

"I figured, we've got things that I've brought… And things that you've had… I just thought it would be nice to have something that's ours."

I place the star on the highest branch of the tree, making sure it's secure.

"How does it look?"

I step back and take in the whole picture. I smile.

"It looks… Complete."

"I knew it would."

"I wish you could see it."

"I will. On Sunday."

"Yeah."

"Night, Abby."

"Goodnight, John."

***

Tales of Christmas past.

As a kid, Eric loved the holidays. He'd wake me up at the crack of dawn, dragging me downstairs. Could hardly contain his excitement. And watching him this way… Neither could I.

With Maggie in and out of hospitals, we never really knew what to expect from year to year. Most of the time, she was okay during the holidays. However, more often than once, she'd go manic on us, and I'd end up scraping together what I could to see that my brother got the Christmas he deserved. I always made sure he had at least one present to open. Sometimes, it was no bigger than a matchbox car. Still, he never complained or acted disappointed. He understood.

I'll never forget the year he tried to return the favour. I was sixteen, and Maggie was recovering from one of her episodes. No one had thought much about Christmas until almost the last minute – except Eric. He saved up all his money for gifts, and even managed to convince the neighbours to find us a tree. I still laugh at the memory of him trying to drag that six-and-a-half foot pine into the house all by himself.

That night he gave me a hand-made card and a pewter necklace. I cried when I opened them. To this day, I still have both, locked away in a box up in the bedroom closet.

Then one day, I went away to college, and it became harder to spend the holidays with Eric.

When I married Richard, we debated whether or not to do the Christmas thing. Yet, between my work and his studies, we could barely find the time to devote to such traditions. Later, near the end of our marriage, the festive activities seemed more and more forced until, eventually, they came and went without so much as a nod.

This year, Richard and his new wife sent out Christmas greeting cards. Go figure.

And then there was Luka. Really… We were only together for one Christmas, but it wasn't all that bad. I worked Christmas Eve and he worked Christmas Day. We had about eight hours together in the middle of the night. He gave me a sweater. I gave him gloves and a scarf. He tried to cook a turkey. That was sweet. We ended up ordering pizza and having sex underneath the Christmas tree. Afterwards he said we should make it our new holiday tradition.

Some tradition.

This year will be different. And not just because of the man I'm with. It's our first Christmas together, and even though he hasn't said it, I know he's looking forward to it. But he was willing to hold back, if that was what I wanted. So I suggested the tree.

I want this to be special. I want to snag him under the mistletoe. I want to try and bake shortbread with him. I want him to dance with me to the Christmas Song. I want to curl up on the couch and watch 'It's a Wonderful Life' with him.

I want to make new traditions with him.

I want to do all of it. For him. For us.

***

"Are your eyes closed?"

"Do they look closed?" I tease.

"Put your hands out."

I oblige, smirking playfully.

"I swear, Carter. If you put something wet or slimy or…"

He places a small box in my hands.

The cushion next to me shifts with his weight. "Okay."

I open my eyes and stare at the object in my hands.

I look at him. "What is it?"

He smiles. "Open it."

I rip away the paper to reveal a flat velvet box.

"Jewelry?" I inquire.

"Abby…" He warns, still smiling.

I grip the box in my left hand and pull up the top with my right.

"It's a ring."

He nods. "A brass ring."

I frown and look at him. "Like… On those old fashioned carousels?"

"That's exactly where it's from."

"Oh…" I look back at the ring. "… Wow." I stare at it for a moment longer.

Do I dare ask?

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. "I don't get it."

He laughs and takes the gift from my hand, picking the ring up and setting the box on the table. Taking one of my hands, he turns it palm-up in his and lays the ring in it.

"When I was a kid, every summer we'd visit Navy Pier. We'd ride the Ferris Wheel, we'd eat cotton candy, we'd play carnival games… We'd ride the carousel, and we would race to see who would be the first to get the brass ring. Of course, I was the youngest… and the shortest, and I'd never win."

I hold back a giggle. "Aww. Poor baby."

He laughs. "Don't worry… It gets better. The summer after Bobby died, we visited the Pier for the last time. Abby… I was so determined to get that ring. If not for myself, then for my brother. I wanted him to be proud of me. I tried and I tried. I must have spent hours on that ride. But I just couldn't reach it.

"By that time, all the kids were being rounded up to go home. I begged them for one more turn around. And do you know what happened?"

"You got the ring?"

He smiles. "It would be a pretty crappy story if I didn't, wouldn't it?"

I laugh and hold up the ring. "Is this it?"

He nods.

"Why are you giving it to me?"

He takes a deep breath. "I've never tried for something so hard in my life. I wanted this ring. I dreamed about this ring. And when I got it, it was the best feeling in the world….

"… And then I met you.

"For two years, I thought… dreamt about how much I wanted to be with you. To wrap my arms around you. To kiss you and make love to you. And for a while, I thought I'd lost you….

"You're my brass ring, Abby."

My breath catches in my through and my heart leaps. Tears spring to my eyes.

"Oh, John." I look at the ring and then up at him. "That has to be the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

His hand cups my cheek lovingly. "You're the sweetest, most beautiful thing that's ever happened to me."

I reach up and kiss him softly.

"Thank you."

He nods quietly, leaning his forehead against mine.

I sniff away the tears that threaten to fall and laugh lightly.

"You gave me a mushy gift."

He smiles. "Yeah, well… I'm a mushy kind of guy."

I linger in his presence a moment longer and then pull away. I stand and go to the tree, pulling something out from underneath it. I hand it to him.

"Merry Christmas, John."

He takes the package and studies it while I sit down again.

"Is it jewelry?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

I swat him on the arm. "Open it."

He responds by turning the gift over and beginning to work on the tape. His fingers work delicately as he tries not to damage the paper.

It's almost excruciating to watch.

"You take this task very seriously."

He looks up at me innocently. "It's our first Christmas together. Can I help it if I want to treasure every single part of it?"

"It's two dollar paper. I don't think it was made to be treasured." I retort, my face conveying the playful nature of my statement.

He finally removes the gift from its colourful incarceration.

It's a medium-sized mahogany box.

He slides his hands over it. "Wow. It's beautiful, Abby."

I smile. "Open it."

He obeys, lifting the lid. Inside the box are dozens of folded pieces of notepaper.

"Love letters?" His smile is huge.

I tip my head back and forth. "Sort of… I actually bought this for you a long time ago. Two years ago, I wrote a note to you, but I never had the courage to send it. One note turned into two, and three, and… I wanted you to know how much you meant to me, but there never seemed to be a right time. So I wrote, and put the notes in here, hoping that one day I'd be able to let you in on every single feeling I've ever felt for you."

He stares at me, then back at the box. "Wow… Wow."

I bite my lip. "Do you… like it?"

He looks back up at me, picks up one of my hands and kisses it. "Oh, Abby… I love it. I really do. It's perfect."

I blush. "I'm glad."

He fingers through the pieces of paper. "Will you… Read one to me?"

I nod. "Okay."

He holds the box out to me and I pick up one of the notes. I open it slowly and look at him. He's watching me intently.

"Um… I wrote this one back in September..."

John,

I have no idea what the future hold for us. I don't know what obstacles might lie in wait for us. I have so many questions and so few answers. I'm scared, John. I have never felt like this about anyone before. What we have is so… strong, and yet I do not know if it is strong enough to pass whatever tests fate has in store for us.

Will we make it? I don't know.

But I do know that I want to make it. I want us to have a future. I want us to fall in love. I want us to share those incredible moments that only lovers can share. I want to live, John. Through you and with you.

Because you are the man I always dreamed I would find one day. You.

If this is chaos, I don't ever want order in my life again. I'm content, now.

Yours… always. Abby.

I fold the paper again and put it back in the waiting box.

His face is soft with adoration. "That was… amazing. You're amazing."

I smile warmly. "It's not that hard, when it's you."

He closes the box and puts it on the table, shifting closer to me and wrapping an arm around me. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure."

He leans in close and tips my face up to his. "You got me a mushy gift, too."

I lick my lips. "Maybe we should start our own tradition."

His fingers graze my cheek, his hand falling to rest at the back of my head.

"Mmm… I'd like that." He stops and watches me for a moment. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

His lips descend on mine capturing them in the most tender, sweetest of kisses. My senses soar at his touch, and I sigh against him.

"Hey." I whisper against his mouth.

He leans over and kisses my shoulder. "What?"

"It's Christmas Day."

He pulls away briefly. "So it is."

He sits back against the couch cushions and draws me to him.

I lay my head against his chest and close my eyes, listening for the beat of his heart.

"Merry Christmas, John."

"Merry Christmas, my love."

***