Chapter Three: Dear Abby
He was coming home.
As Abby stood at her bathroom sink, getting ready for work, she still couldn't believe Luka was coming home. Alive. He was sick, still recovering from malaria, but he was going to be okay. He would be arriving in only a matter of hours, and she was going out of her mind with anticipation.
When Lily had drawn her back inside the hospital two days ago, a heavy weight of dread had settled on her shoulders. She'd expected bad news from Kerry. All she ever seemed to get anymore was bad news. She'd wondered about Maggie and Eric, then she'd wondered if she was getting fired. Or if she was going to have to fire somebody.
She'd walked in to see Kerry standing at the admit desk with a look of bewildered amazement on her face. Abby's heartbeat had kicked up a notch. "What is it, Dr. Weaver?" she'd asked.
"It's about Dr. Kovac," Kerry had replied quietly.
Abby swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. "Did...did Carter find him?"
Kerry nodded. "They're bringing him back."
Abby closed her eyes briefly, willing back a sudden rush of tears. "Is he...he's going to be...buried in Chicago?"
Kerry's hand reached toward her. "No, Abby, you don't understand. They found him alive. He's going to make it."
Abby gripped the counter as her knees nearly gave out. "What? He's alive? How?"
"I don't know all of the details, but apparently he contracted malaria while working at a clinic somewhere in the jungle."
"Matenda," Abby murmured, remembering Carter's words as he'd rushed out of the hospital a few nights before.
"They're taking him to a hospital in Paris tonight, then he'll fly here tomorrow."
Abby had immediately canceled her impromptu vacation plans. The last two days had passed in a slow blur of anticipation. She'd had so much nervous energy that her entire apartment was now clean from top to bottom. All of her laundry was done, all of her bills paid. Now she had nothing left to do except work and wait.
She wished he needed a place to stay while he recovered. She remembered after Brian had attacked her; Luka hadn't hesitated to open his door to her. Back then, she hadn't wanted to admit she needed him. But staying in her own apartment, while Brian was out on bail, had worked steadily at her nerves. She'd laid awake at night, jumping at every noise, wondering if Brian was going to come after he again. So finally she'd shoved her stubborn pride away and gone to Luka.
She still remembered the way her heart had sank when another woman had opened his door. It had been so hard for her to see him with Nicole, and then this other woman...if it hadn't been for the sincerity in Luka's voice, and the intensity in his eyes, she would have been long gone.
Luka wasn't going to need her help now, though. He would continue his recovery here in the hospital, then he would go home to his own apartment. He'd have his own doctors and nurses to take care of him here, and he wasn't going to need the comfort of her presence once he got home.
She sighed as she walked into the hospital later that morning. She was so distracted with thoughts of Luka that she let herself get talked into giving the official tour of the ER to a group of new residents. She groaned inwardly as she eyed the three young doctors. Luka was going to be here soon, and the last thing she wanted was to be saddled with these three people and unable to stop and see him. So if she was a little sarcastic and standoffish as she led them through the ER, she didn't think it was her fault. All she was really trying to do was impress upon them the fact that they needed to treat the nurses with respect. She couldn't help it if she hadn't been born with many people skills.
She wondered how long their bright-eyed enthusiasm would last. She wondered if they even realized that staying here long was bound to turn them bitter and cynical. It had sure as hell worked on her. She remembered when she'd started down here as an eager yet apprehensive med student. She'd been so positive she could make a difference as a doctor, so eager to help each and every person who came through the door. She'd learned soon enough that it wasn't possible.
She stopped at triage, where Malik was working on a seemingly endless stream of patients. Sometimes she wished they would just all go away, she thought, then gritted her teeth and shrugged when Malik asked her when Carter was coming back. The truth was, she had no idea. When he'd left her standing on the street in front of the hospital, he'd told her he'd call her when he got to Paris. But he hadn't called. She hadn't heard a whisper from him since that night, and she had no idea if he was going to be on the flight with Luka or not.
She moved on with the tour, guiding her charges to the admit desk, where she introduced them to Pratt, who was the personification of treating nurses like crap. He was smug and conceited, and she remembered a crack he'd made to her a while back. Something along the lines of I'll fly the plane, you serve the coffee. She'd wanted to slug him in the face when he'd said it.
When Susan came to the admit desk with a group of med students trailing behind her, Abby was glad that she'd drawn the residents. At the moment, the only thing she'd rather do less than give a tour to a group of eager young residents was give a tour to a group of eager young med students.
* * * * *
"...He should be here any minute," Jerry said, and Abby felt a burst of adrenaline rush into her veins. Any minute...he was going to be here any minute. She looked over at the residents and groaned inwardly. Maybe she could find a case for them to work up, just so she could get them out of her hair for a few minutes.
Almost as soon as she turned around she was confronted by Conni and Lydia, who she discovered were understandably angry by the new schedule. She stared at her won two scheduled shifts and wondered what the hell Romano was thinking. The ER needed experienced nurses, not undertrained aides and registry volunteers. She wondered if he was really so callous that he would sacrifice patient care and possibly lives to save a few bucks.
So she would have to talk to him, she thought with a sense of dread. He was an unpleasant man under the best of circumstances, and these weren't the best. Ever since he'd lost his arm for good-along with losing his job to Weaver-he'd been almost impossible to deal with. Sometimes she really hated being charge nurse, she thought sourly.
Yosh blew by in a whirlwind, informing her she'd lost the triage lottery yet again. The nine-to-one shift was usually the busiest-and therefore worst-shift to get stuck with. When Yosh hurried down the hall, ignoring her protest, she wondered if this day could get any worse. "I swear the thing is rigged," she muttered.
When she heard Frank calling her name, she figured things could indeed get worse. She turned to face him, and when he only pointed, her eyes followed automatically.
And there he was. Looking weary, Luka lay back on a gurney as a couple of paramedics pushed him inside. Her heart leapt, a smile breaking past her lips, before jealousy pinched at her. She watched Jerry greet him, then Malik. Damn it, she wanted-no, needed, really-to see him, to hear his voice. To really be sure he was okay. But everyone else was getting to him first. She pivoted and made her way past the admit desk, planning to intercept him before he got to the elevator.
She shook off Pratt's hand and looked toward Luka, but she was interrupted again. A delirious patient chose that moment to start shouting and struggling. Once he was under control, Neela, the new med student, intercepted her with news that a pregnant woman's water had just broken. Frustrated, Abby went to the woman. There was no way she could leave a pregnant woman in distress.
Susan showed up then, and Abby hurried down the hall to grab the fetal monitor. She caught a glimpse of Luka from the other side of the hall, and tracked his progress toward the elevator. She passed the monitor to Malik and fought her way to Luka. But she missed him. She called his name just before the elevator doors closed, but his head was back, his eyes closed. He didn't hear her, and then he was gone.
* * * * *
She worked. And worked. And worked. From recalcitrant old men, to unresponsive children, to just plain crazies. She saw, worked up and checked out so many patients she thought she'd explode. And each time she discarded her gloves and checked the clock, far too little time had passed. And far too much. She felt like an eternity had passed since Luka had arrived, and she still hadn't been able to stop and see him. It was driving her out of her mind.
And then she met Elle, and it was obvious to her that the teenager was in distress. Her breathing was bad, her cough worrisome, and the instincts she'd developed over her years as a nurse told her there was something really wrong with her. Besides an overprotective, pushy mother. She hated seeing parents steamroll their children, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything now.
She got Elle set up with Dr. Lewis, then stood behind the admit desk for a breather. She was exhausted already, and she was only halfway through her shift. Her day wasn't helped when Conni and Lydia informed her they'd sent a petition to Romano. She didn't oppose the petition, though she hadn't signed it, but she really didn't want to have to deal with this right now. This was turning into a bitch of a day, and the fewer non-patient-related problems she had to deal with, the better. For that matter, the fewer patient-related problems she had to deal with today, the better.
She picked up the phone, intending to at least call and find out about Luka, then almost had a heart attack when she learned Frank the Foreigner- Hater had even been to see him. And he just had to add that aggravating, sideways comment, Just popped my head in to say hi. Wouldn't hurt you to do the same thing.
She got through upstairs and asked about Luka, and when the response came from behind her, rather than in her ear, she turned around in surprise. She wasn't sure she liked what she found. A bubbly woman with long dark hair and an effusive smile who seemed to know far too much about Luka's condition. Abby looked at her askance, a kernel of uneasiness forming in the pit of her stomach. She didn't like the vibes she was getting from this woman. Who was she, to be an expert on Luka's condition?
"John talked a lot about you," Gillian said after introducing herself.
"John....Carter?" Abby asked in disbelief. This woman knew Carter too? And when Gillian clarified that she had worked with both Luka and John in the Congo, Abby thought she was going to be sick. Nausea and sorrow formed a terrible, potent mixture in her stomach, because she suddenly knew who this woman was. She was the reason Luka had been more than fine. When Carter had made the comment it had rankled. She knew the cryptic words had been designed to annoy her, and they'd done that and more. And now that she stood here, in front of the meaning behind those words, she felt herself begin to crack apart.
A moment later she stuck Elle's chart in the rack and hurried out of the ER, Carter's letter in her hand. It made a sort of terrible, ironic sense that Luka's apparent new girlfriend had given her a letter sent by her most likely former boyfriend.
This really was turning into the worst day of her life.
She sat on the bench near the ambulance bay doors, wind ruffling her hair. She read Carter's words, but her only outward reaction was a slight pinching of her face and a shake of her head. People could be watching, and she'd be damned if she was going to let them see just how much Carter's words were affecting her. "This thing between us isn't working," Carter wrote. "It hasn't been working for a long time..."
She was interrupted by the nurses again, but this time it wasn't just Conni and Lydia. Yosh was with them, along with a couple of the other full-time nurses. And the news wasn't good. This time it wasn't just a petition, it was a walk-out. Wearily she watched them all walk away. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, aware of Frank's droning but not paying too much attention to it until he oh-so-politely told her that her break was over. She looked at him for a moment, then crumpled Carter's letter and walked back inside, thinking that at least nothing else could possibly go wrong, because everything was already wrong.
* * * * *
She wished she'd known just how wrong she'd been. Because things could always get worse. Much worse.
In the trauma room, trying to save young Bobby's life, she told herself it was just her imagination leading her to believe all of the doctors were ganging up against her. But it sure seemed that way, and it made her angry. And it made her feel lonely at a time when she really needed something to hold onto. Especially when both Lewis and Corday shot down her every suggestion to save the boy. She felt like she was on display, the gurney, Bobby's body a barrier between her and her audience. It was not a pleasant feeling.
When everyone left and she was alone, she quietly cleaned and covered the boy's body. She fought back tears, not just for the boy, but for herself. The last couple of weeks notwithstanding, she wasn't much of a crier. But today it seemed like every time she turned around, another weight was being placed upon her shoulders, and she felt very close to breaking.
But nothing could have made her head spin the way it did when she found out that everyone down to Edna the geriatric nurse not only knew about Carter's letter but had read it. It was awful enough that Carter had officially broken up with her in a letter, but it was infinitely worse that everyone else knew exactly what he'd written. Not only to know, but to comment to her about it. And she had no doubt they were gossiping about it behind her back. In that moment, she would have been quite happy to walk out of the hospital and never come back.
* * * * *
Abby felt a new kind of low when she learned the truth about Elle's condition but was told the parents didn't want their daughter to know until another test was performed three days later. Elle was a good kid, and she wasn't stupid. She knew something was wrong with her, but to be unable to tell her...and then to have Susan lecture her in a way that made her feel like a child, well...it wasn't the first time today she'd felt like quitting. She was tired of everything. Tired of this job, of the endless stream of patients she couldn't help, tired of the politics that kept everyone from doing the jobs the way they should have been able to, and she was tired of the gossipy atmosphere that reeked of junior high. Yes, she'd been a part of it before, but this was different. Carter's letter, her whole relationship with him, should have been off-limits. She shouldn't have been served up for the entertainment value.
A short time later, after finally getting her letter back from Frank and Jerry, she escaped into the elevator and made her way upstairs. Maybe seeing Luka could lift her spirits. Maybe seeing his face was the only thing that could help drag her out of the pit she'd fallen into.
It worked for a minute, when she heard the deep sound of his voice, and the lopsided grin he sent her way. There was awkwardness between them, two former lovers who didn't know just where they stood now, but seeing him standing there in front of her was the first bright spot in an interminably long and dark day. She smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks, and she had an almost uncontrollable urge to wrap her arms around him and hold on, just to make sure this was all real. Just to make sure he was really here, and that he was really going to be okay.
Gillian chose that moment to appear, and Abby had to turn away from her obvious affection for Luka. Her throat closed up as they smiled at each other, and seeing the intimate way Gillian brushed the hair from Luka's forehead broke Abby's heart. She could almost feel herself shatter into pieces on the ground. But she didn't let them see how much she was hurting. She forced a smile past her lips and hoped they wouldn't notice that it didn't reach her eyes, then she said her goodbyes and walked away. Hearing them talk quietly to each other in the background, she pulled Carter's letter out of her pocket, crumpled it, and made damn sure that it made it into the garbage this time. Then she went to find Elle.
When Abby saw the girl through the window of her new private room, she looked so alone, so scared. Abby stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, not giving a damn what the consequences of her actions might be. She didn't care if she got yelled at, reprimanded. She didn't care if she got suspended. She didn't care if she got fired.
"Okay," she said with a deep breath. "I want you to keep in mind that the doctors still have to run another test to confirm everything."
"Am I dying?" Elle asked bluntly, though the bravado in her voice couldn't hide the fear in her eyes.
"The doctors think you have something called Primary Pulmonary Hypertension," Abby said. "It's a condition where the pressure in the artery that connects the lungs and the heart is high."
"How serious is it?"
"It's very serious," Abby said quietly. "I'm sorry."
After several minutes and numerous questions, Elle asked, "Are you going to get in trouble for telling me all this?"
"I don't know," Abby said. "Your parents wanted to wait for the test on Monday before they told you, and I don't know how they'll react when they find out you already know. But I'm not worried about getting in trouble, and I don't want you to worry for me. You just take care of yourself."
Much later that night, as Abby tossed and turned restlessly in bed, feeling the outside cold seep through her window and into her bones, a single tear leaked from the corner of her eye as she mourned the certainty that she would always be alone.
He was coming home.
As Abby stood at her bathroom sink, getting ready for work, she still couldn't believe Luka was coming home. Alive. He was sick, still recovering from malaria, but he was going to be okay. He would be arriving in only a matter of hours, and she was going out of her mind with anticipation.
When Lily had drawn her back inside the hospital two days ago, a heavy weight of dread had settled on her shoulders. She'd expected bad news from Kerry. All she ever seemed to get anymore was bad news. She'd wondered about Maggie and Eric, then she'd wondered if she was getting fired. Or if she was going to have to fire somebody.
She'd walked in to see Kerry standing at the admit desk with a look of bewildered amazement on her face. Abby's heartbeat had kicked up a notch. "What is it, Dr. Weaver?" she'd asked.
"It's about Dr. Kovac," Kerry had replied quietly.
Abby swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. "Did...did Carter find him?"
Kerry nodded. "They're bringing him back."
Abby closed her eyes briefly, willing back a sudden rush of tears. "Is he...he's going to be...buried in Chicago?"
Kerry's hand reached toward her. "No, Abby, you don't understand. They found him alive. He's going to make it."
Abby gripped the counter as her knees nearly gave out. "What? He's alive? How?"
"I don't know all of the details, but apparently he contracted malaria while working at a clinic somewhere in the jungle."
"Matenda," Abby murmured, remembering Carter's words as he'd rushed out of the hospital a few nights before.
"They're taking him to a hospital in Paris tonight, then he'll fly here tomorrow."
Abby had immediately canceled her impromptu vacation plans. The last two days had passed in a slow blur of anticipation. She'd had so much nervous energy that her entire apartment was now clean from top to bottom. All of her laundry was done, all of her bills paid. Now she had nothing left to do except work and wait.
She wished he needed a place to stay while he recovered. She remembered after Brian had attacked her; Luka hadn't hesitated to open his door to her. Back then, she hadn't wanted to admit she needed him. But staying in her own apartment, while Brian was out on bail, had worked steadily at her nerves. She'd laid awake at night, jumping at every noise, wondering if Brian was going to come after he again. So finally she'd shoved her stubborn pride away and gone to Luka.
She still remembered the way her heart had sank when another woman had opened his door. It had been so hard for her to see him with Nicole, and then this other woman...if it hadn't been for the sincerity in Luka's voice, and the intensity in his eyes, she would have been long gone.
Luka wasn't going to need her help now, though. He would continue his recovery here in the hospital, then he would go home to his own apartment. He'd have his own doctors and nurses to take care of him here, and he wasn't going to need the comfort of her presence once he got home.
She sighed as she walked into the hospital later that morning. She was so distracted with thoughts of Luka that she let herself get talked into giving the official tour of the ER to a group of new residents. She groaned inwardly as she eyed the three young doctors. Luka was going to be here soon, and the last thing she wanted was to be saddled with these three people and unable to stop and see him. So if she was a little sarcastic and standoffish as she led them through the ER, she didn't think it was her fault. All she was really trying to do was impress upon them the fact that they needed to treat the nurses with respect. She couldn't help it if she hadn't been born with many people skills.
She wondered how long their bright-eyed enthusiasm would last. She wondered if they even realized that staying here long was bound to turn them bitter and cynical. It had sure as hell worked on her. She remembered when she'd started down here as an eager yet apprehensive med student. She'd been so positive she could make a difference as a doctor, so eager to help each and every person who came through the door. She'd learned soon enough that it wasn't possible.
She stopped at triage, where Malik was working on a seemingly endless stream of patients. Sometimes she wished they would just all go away, she thought, then gritted her teeth and shrugged when Malik asked her when Carter was coming back. The truth was, she had no idea. When he'd left her standing on the street in front of the hospital, he'd told her he'd call her when he got to Paris. But he hadn't called. She hadn't heard a whisper from him since that night, and she had no idea if he was going to be on the flight with Luka or not.
She moved on with the tour, guiding her charges to the admit desk, where she introduced them to Pratt, who was the personification of treating nurses like crap. He was smug and conceited, and she remembered a crack he'd made to her a while back. Something along the lines of I'll fly the plane, you serve the coffee. She'd wanted to slug him in the face when he'd said it.
When Susan came to the admit desk with a group of med students trailing behind her, Abby was glad that she'd drawn the residents. At the moment, the only thing she'd rather do less than give a tour to a group of eager young residents was give a tour to a group of eager young med students.
* * * * *
"...He should be here any minute," Jerry said, and Abby felt a burst of adrenaline rush into her veins. Any minute...he was going to be here any minute. She looked over at the residents and groaned inwardly. Maybe she could find a case for them to work up, just so she could get them out of her hair for a few minutes.
Almost as soon as she turned around she was confronted by Conni and Lydia, who she discovered were understandably angry by the new schedule. She stared at her won two scheduled shifts and wondered what the hell Romano was thinking. The ER needed experienced nurses, not undertrained aides and registry volunteers. She wondered if he was really so callous that he would sacrifice patient care and possibly lives to save a few bucks.
So she would have to talk to him, she thought with a sense of dread. He was an unpleasant man under the best of circumstances, and these weren't the best. Ever since he'd lost his arm for good-along with losing his job to Weaver-he'd been almost impossible to deal with. Sometimes she really hated being charge nurse, she thought sourly.
Yosh blew by in a whirlwind, informing her she'd lost the triage lottery yet again. The nine-to-one shift was usually the busiest-and therefore worst-shift to get stuck with. When Yosh hurried down the hall, ignoring her protest, she wondered if this day could get any worse. "I swear the thing is rigged," she muttered.
When she heard Frank calling her name, she figured things could indeed get worse. She turned to face him, and when he only pointed, her eyes followed automatically.
And there he was. Looking weary, Luka lay back on a gurney as a couple of paramedics pushed him inside. Her heart leapt, a smile breaking past her lips, before jealousy pinched at her. She watched Jerry greet him, then Malik. Damn it, she wanted-no, needed, really-to see him, to hear his voice. To really be sure he was okay. But everyone else was getting to him first. She pivoted and made her way past the admit desk, planning to intercept him before he got to the elevator.
She shook off Pratt's hand and looked toward Luka, but she was interrupted again. A delirious patient chose that moment to start shouting and struggling. Once he was under control, Neela, the new med student, intercepted her with news that a pregnant woman's water had just broken. Frustrated, Abby went to the woman. There was no way she could leave a pregnant woman in distress.
Susan showed up then, and Abby hurried down the hall to grab the fetal monitor. She caught a glimpse of Luka from the other side of the hall, and tracked his progress toward the elevator. She passed the monitor to Malik and fought her way to Luka. But she missed him. She called his name just before the elevator doors closed, but his head was back, his eyes closed. He didn't hear her, and then he was gone.
* * * * *
She worked. And worked. And worked. From recalcitrant old men, to unresponsive children, to just plain crazies. She saw, worked up and checked out so many patients she thought she'd explode. And each time she discarded her gloves and checked the clock, far too little time had passed. And far too much. She felt like an eternity had passed since Luka had arrived, and she still hadn't been able to stop and see him. It was driving her out of her mind.
And then she met Elle, and it was obvious to her that the teenager was in distress. Her breathing was bad, her cough worrisome, and the instincts she'd developed over her years as a nurse told her there was something really wrong with her. Besides an overprotective, pushy mother. She hated seeing parents steamroll their children, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything now.
She got Elle set up with Dr. Lewis, then stood behind the admit desk for a breather. She was exhausted already, and she was only halfway through her shift. Her day wasn't helped when Conni and Lydia informed her they'd sent a petition to Romano. She didn't oppose the petition, though she hadn't signed it, but she really didn't want to have to deal with this right now. This was turning into a bitch of a day, and the fewer non-patient-related problems she had to deal with, the better. For that matter, the fewer patient-related problems she had to deal with today, the better.
She picked up the phone, intending to at least call and find out about Luka, then almost had a heart attack when she learned Frank the Foreigner- Hater had even been to see him. And he just had to add that aggravating, sideways comment, Just popped my head in to say hi. Wouldn't hurt you to do the same thing.
She got through upstairs and asked about Luka, and when the response came from behind her, rather than in her ear, she turned around in surprise. She wasn't sure she liked what she found. A bubbly woman with long dark hair and an effusive smile who seemed to know far too much about Luka's condition. Abby looked at her askance, a kernel of uneasiness forming in the pit of her stomach. She didn't like the vibes she was getting from this woman. Who was she, to be an expert on Luka's condition?
"John talked a lot about you," Gillian said after introducing herself.
"John....Carter?" Abby asked in disbelief. This woman knew Carter too? And when Gillian clarified that she had worked with both Luka and John in the Congo, Abby thought she was going to be sick. Nausea and sorrow formed a terrible, potent mixture in her stomach, because she suddenly knew who this woman was. She was the reason Luka had been more than fine. When Carter had made the comment it had rankled. She knew the cryptic words had been designed to annoy her, and they'd done that and more. And now that she stood here, in front of the meaning behind those words, she felt herself begin to crack apart.
A moment later she stuck Elle's chart in the rack and hurried out of the ER, Carter's letter in her hand. It made a sort of terrible, ironic sense that Luka's apparent new girlfriend had given her a letter sent by her most likely former boyfriend.
This really was turning into the worst day of her life.
She sat on the bench near the ambulance bay doors, wind ruffling her hair. She read Carter's words, but her only outward reaction was a slight pinching of her face and a shake of her head. People could be watching, and she'd be damned if she was going to let them see just how much Carter's words were affecting her. "This thing between us isn't working," Carter wrote. "It hasn't been working for a long time..."
She was interrupted by the nurses again, but this time it wasn't just Conni and Lydia. Yosh was with them, along with a couple of the other full-time nurses. And the news wasn't good. This time it wasn't just a petition, it was a walk-out. Wearily she watched them all walk away. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, aware of Frank's droning but not paying too much attention to it until he oh-so-politely told her that her break was over. She looked at him for a moment, then crumpled Carter's letter and walked back inside, thinking that at least nothing else could possibly go wrong, because everything was already wrong.
* * * * *
She wished she'd known just how wrong she'd been. Because things could always get worse. Much worse.
In the trauma room, trying to save young Bobby's life, she told herself it was just her imagination leading her to believe all of the doctors were ganging up against her. But it sure seemed that way, and it made her angry. And it made her feel lonely at a time when she really needed something to hold onto. Especially when both Lewis and Corday shot down her every suggestion to save the boy. She felt like she was on display, the gurney, Bobby's body a barrier between her and her audience. It was not a pleasant feeling.
When everyone left and she was alone, she quietly cleaned and covered the boy's body. She fought back tears, not just for the boy, but for herself. The last couple of weeks notwithstanding, she wasn't much of a crier. But today it seemed like every time she turned around, another weight was being placed upon her shoulders, and she felt very close to breaking.
But nothing could have made her head spin the way it did when she found out that everyone down to Edna the geriatric nurse not only knew about Carter's letter but had read it. It was awful enough that Carter had officially broken up with her in a letter, but it was infinitely worse that everyone else knew exactly what he'd written. Not only to know, but to comment to her about it. And she had no doubt they were gossiping about it behind her back. In that moment, she would have been quite happy to walk out of the hospital and never come back.
* * * * *
Abby felt a new kind of low when she learned the truth about Elle's condition but was told the parents didn't want their daughter to know until another test was performed three days later. Elle was a good kid, and she wasn't stupid. She knew something was wrong with her, but to be unable to tell her...and then to have Susan lecture her in a way that made her feel like a child, well...it wasn't the first time today she'd felt like quitting. She was tired of everything. Tired of this job, of the endless stream of patients she couldn't help, tired of the politics that kept everyone from doing the jobs the way they should have been able to, and she was tired of the gossipy atmosphere that reeked of junior high. Yes, she'd been a part of it before, but this was different. Carter's letter, her whole relationship with him, should have been off-limits. She shouldn't have been served up for the entertainment value.
A short time later, after finally getting her letter back from Frank and Jerry, she escaped into the elevator and made her way upstairs. Maybe seeing Luka could lift her spirits. Maybe seeing his face was the only thing that could help drag her out of the pit she'd fallen into.
It worked for a minute, when she heard the deep sound of his voice, and the lopsided grin he sent her way. There was awkwardness between them, two former lovers who didn't know just where they stood now, but seeing him standing there in front of her was the first bright spot in an interminably long and dark day. She smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks, and she had an almost uncontrollable urge to wrap her arms around him and hold on, just to make sure this was all real. Just to make sure he was really here, and that he was really going to be okay.
Gillian chose that moment to appear, and Abby had to turn away from her obvious affection for Luka. Her throat closed up as they smiled at each other, and seeing the intimate way Gillian brushed the hair from Luka's forehead broke Abby's heart. She could almost feel herself shatter into pieces on the ground. But she didn't let them see how much she was hurting. She forced a smile past her lips and hoped they wouldn't notice that it didn't reach her eyes, then she said her goodbyes and walked away. Hearing them talk quietly to each other in the background, she pulled Carter's letter out of her pocket, crumpled it, and made damn sure that it made it into the garbage this time. Then she went to find Elle.
When Abby saw the girl through the window of her new private room, she looked so alone, so scared. Abby stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, not giving a damn what the consequences of her actions might be. She didn't care if she got yelled at, reprimanded. She didn't care if she got suspended. She didn't care if she got fired.
"Okay," she said with a deep breath. "I want you to keep in mind that the doctors still have to run another test to confirm everything."
"Am I dying?" Elle asked bluntly, though the bravado in her voice couldn't hide the fear in her eyes.
"The doctors think you have something called Primary Pulmonary Hypertension," Abby said. "It's a condition where the pressure in the artery that connects the lungs and the heart is high."
"How serious is it?"
"It's very serious," Abby said quietly. "I'm sorry."
After several minutes and numerous questions, Elle asked, "Are you going to get in trouble for telling me all this?"
"I don't know," Abby said. "Your parents wanted to wait for the test on Monday before they told you, and I don't know how they'll react when they find out you already know. But I'm not worried about getting in trouble, and I don't want you to worry for me. You just take care of yourself."
Much later that night, as Abby tossed and turned restlessly in bed, feeling the outside cold seep through her window and into her bones, a single tear leaked from the corner of her eye as she mourned the certainty that she would always be alone.