Author's note: First off, a big hug to anyone who reviewed my little fic.
It made me feel really good that anyone did, because before this my energy
has been spent on Law and Order sillyfic and wasn't sure how good of a
dramatic first effort I made. If you liked it then, yeah! Go you! If you
didn't but told me you did, then thank for lying to me. It made me feel
good, and I promise this will get better.
And I promise that this does have a plot coming up. Things will start to happen soon.
Chapter Two
Parasail or first class mail
Get on the back of a Nightingale
just get to me--I don't care just get to me
Dark green jungle made a stark contrast against the sky. Carter told the little boy, as best he could with the language barrier, to look up while he shifted his dislocated shoulder back in place.
"This will only hurt for a minute I promise." He said, looking at the boy's dark eyes, so dark he could barely make out the pupils. Luka had managed, talking to the boy's mother in broken French, to learn that the boy had fallen out of a tree the week before, and the mother could not find him a doctor because the fighting was to bad to leave the house. In the hospital he would have ordered a dozen tests to check for respiratory infections and blood clots, to make sure the boy hadn't gotten dehydrated in the seven days he was flat on his back while guns fired only inches away from his window. Here, he couldn't even give the kid a dam aspirin.
"In my Crayola box," he said in the calmest voice possible, trying to take the poor kid's mind of what was about to happen, "the color the sky is right now was called Robin's Egg Blue. There was a color called Jungle Green too, but that was more of a green yellow then the color the real jungle is."
The boy's eyes didn't move from his own as he started to pull on the arm, trying hard to make it quick and painless. The mother, not the boy, was the one crying when it slipped back into place.
"Merci monsieur." The mother said, tears falling down her face as she helped her son stand up. Carter rose to his feet, wiped the dirt of his pants and helped her.
"Can you tell her," he asked Luka, sitting only a few feet away helping another victim, "that I was happy to help?"
" IL dit, il était heureux d'aider." Luka told the mother looking up from his patient for only a moment. She nodded to Carter and with the boy, walked back to where the rest of the family was staying.
Carter was still watching when she stepped on the land mine, and then was gone.
"CARTER! CARTER! HELP! YOU HAVE TO HELP US!"
~*~*~*~*~*~
Carter twisted in the already tangled sheets on Abby's bed and woke up sweaty and gasping for breath. "What?" He yelled, almost panicked certain that he heard Abby calling his name a few seconds ago. She needed help, he was sure.
Abby came into the room fully dressed and holding a half-eaten apple. "Did you say something?" she asked through a mouthful of granny smith.
Carter stared at her for a moment. She was here, whole. Not blown to pieces by some land mine in Kisangani. Not lying dead in the jungle. He ran his hands through his hair and stared at her for a minute maybe longer. She was ok.
"I--" he said, realizing that this must look like he was crazy, "I just had a dream. I must have talked in my sleep." He smiled with the last words, hoping that she'd let it go easily.
"More like yelled." Abby said, finishing the apple and sitting down with him on the bed. "Are you ok, Carter?"
"I'm fine." He said, picking up her apple free hand and squeezing it, and in doing so glanced at the clock. It read 12:54 P.M. "Do you have a late shift today?" He asked Abby.
"I called in sick." She said throwing the apple core in the wastebasket, and standing up and pulling the window shades open, throwing sunlight into the room.
Carter smiled and stood up. He pulled Abby into a hug from behind and looked out on to the windy city. "For me?" he whispered in her ear.
"Partially for you" she said turning around and wrapping her hands around his neck, "and partially for me."
Carter leaned his head down and kissed Abby softly on the lips, for a moment forgetting his dream. She was ok. Harsh gray urban jungles contrasted with the blue sky. There was no doubt--he was home.
And I promise that this does have a plot coming up. Things will start to happen soon.
Chapter Two
Parasail or first class mail
Get on the back of a Nightingale
just get to me--I don't care just get to me
Dark green jungle made a stark contrast against the sky. Carter told the little boy, as best he could with the language barrier, to look up while he shifted his dislocated shoulder back in place.
"This will only hurt for a minute I promise." He said, looking at the boy's dark eyes, so dark he could barely make out the pupils. Luka had managed, talking to the boy's mother in broken French, to learn that the boy had fallen out of a tree the week before, and the mother could not find him a doctor because the fighting was to bad to leave the house. In the hospital he would have ordered a dozen tests to check for respiratory infections and blood clots, to make sure the boy hadn't gotten dehydrated in the seven days he was flat on his back while guns fired only inches away from his window. Here, he couldn't even give the kid a dam aspirin.
"In my Crayola box," he said in the calmest voice possible, trying to take the poor kid's mind of what was about to happen, "the color the sky is right now was called Robin's Egg Blue. There was a color called Jungle Green too, but that was more of a green yellow then the color the real jungle is."
The boy's eyes didn't move from his own as he started to pull on the arm, trying hard to make it quick and painless. The mother, not the boy, was the one crying when it slipped back into place.
"Merci monsieur." The mother said, tears falling down her face as she helped her son stand up. Carter rose to his feet, wiped the dirt of his pants and helped her.
"Can you tell her," he asked Luka, sitting only a few feet away helping another victim, "that I was happy to help?"
" IL dit, il était heureux d'aider." Luka told the mother looking up from his patient for only a moment. She nodded to Carter and with the boy, walked back to where the rest of the family was staying.
Carter was still watching when she stepped on the land mine, and then was gone.
"CARTER! CARTER! HELP! YOU HAVE TO HELP US!"
~*~*~*~*~*~
Carter twisted in the already tangled sheets on Abby's bed and woke up sweaty and gasping for breath. "What?" He yelled, almost panicked certain that he heard Abby calling his name a few seconds ago. She needed help, he was sure.
Abby came into the room fully dressed and holding a half-eaten apple. "Did you say something?" she asked through a mouthful of granny smith.
Carter stared at her for a moment. She was here, whole. Not blown to pieces by some land mine in Kisangani. Not lying dead in the jungle. He ran his hands through his hair and stared at her for a minute maybe longer. She was ok.
"I--" he said, realizing that this must look like he was crazy, "I just had a dream. I must have talked in my sleep." He smiled with the last words, hoping that she'd let it go easily.
"More like yelled." Abby said, finishing the apple and sitting down with him on the bed. "Are you ok, Carter?"
"I'm fine." He said, picking up her apple free hand and squeezing it, and in doing so glanced at the clock. It read 12:54 P.M. "Do you have a late shift today?" He asked Abby.
"I called in sick." She said throwing the apple core in the wastebasket, and standing up and pulling the window shades open, throwing sunlight into the room.
Carter smiled and stood up. He pulled Abby into a hug from behind and looked out on to the windy city. "For me?" he whispered in her ear.
"Partially for you" she said turning around and wrapping her hands around his neck, "and partially for me."
Carter leaned his head down and kissed Abby softly on the lips, for a moment forgetting his dream. She was ok. Harsh gray urban jungles contrasted with the blue sky. There was no doubt--he was home.