Author's Notes: I'm bored. I have no homework. The joy, so I thought I would do a double update althought this chapter is sort of short, and maybe repeats and mummbles alot of the things from the other chapters, but I'm just trying to emphasize the uncertainty that is present... Yeah... But the one day might stretch out over a few chapters since the interaction between Carter and Abby is getting somewhere, no clue where, but it is... Okay so I need some input, sorry guys, I know it means work put please.. pretty please?!?! How long do you think I should make this fic? I don't know I could make shorter chapters or longer chapters, but it really depends on how much you guys wanna read, cause I'll continue to write... And what do you guys think of how it's going. I know the last chapter was a mess of emotions for both, love then hate then love then god knows what but it's life. I know from personal expierence.. Men are stubborn pigs, but you need them... ;-) And oh yeah the song is Michelle Branch "Here With Me" I loved it so much I just had to put it in.. It seemed right...
~*~
She woke up, in an unfamiliar position, back and neck aching. She realized she was sitting up against her closet door. She had been hoping the scene a few hours ago had only been a dream. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back up against the door. She listened to the music that had woken her.
"You know that silence is loud when all you hear is your heart
And I wanted so badly just to be a part of something strong and true
But I was scared and left it all behind
I know you had to go away
I died just a little, and I feel it now
You're the one I need
I believe that I would cry just a little
Just to have you back now
Here with me... "
She got up and turned the radio off. She was up. She didn't need a reminder that this was reality. She stretched out, trying to get the knots out of her neck. She popped into her bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. Trying to pull herself together. She readjusted the robe around her waist, took a deep breathe, and headed out the door. The house was silent as far as she could tell. She always got up a half hour before the kids did, just so she could have her peace and quiet before the tornado. She walked towards the living room, hoping inwardly that he had thought it in his best interest to leave. But no such luck. He was half lying, half sitting on the sofa. Annette was rather lying on the full length, stretched out, her head against his chest. He had his arm protectively around her. It looked like a scene from one of those 60's movies, with the happy family and everything. Too bad they instituted child custody along with divorce. They were both asleep. She didn't want to wake them. Well him at least. They kept on never finishing that converstation. She headed back into the kitchen, putting on the coffee brewer. She needed a few good cups to get her going. She sat down, flipping through the ever-growing pile of mail that she never had time to look at. Bills, letters, ads. The usual. She heard the door shift, and looked up to find John looking rather upset.
"Mom, I thought something had happened to you last night..."
She nodded her head, trying her best to seem upbeat and positive.
"No, sweetie. Maybe you were dreaming."
Her son rolled his eyes.
"I was up."
She knew she had her pouty face on.
"Okay, okay. We had a little misunderstanding last night."
She watched him walk to the counter, grab his favorite glass, go to the fridge, pour himself a cup of orange juice, and sit back down.
"Mom, we're not three years old anymore."
She hated to admit that they were growing up so fast, mature beyond their years.
"I know."
He continued looking at her.
"Why was he here in the first place?"
How was she supposed to answer that question when she herself didn't know the answer.
"He's your father."
State the obvious. Might work.
"He's not my father. He's just a father. A father I don't want."
She closed her eyes. Why did she feel a tremendous headache coming on?
"John, would you listen to me? He's not a bad person. He's got a good heart. He might be a bit of work, but he's worth it. Give him a chance."
She heard him take a sip of his juice.
"If he's not a bad person, why does he just magically show up now? After we're almost 10 years old?"
She played with her cup. Why was she having these converstations with her son? This wasn't even material for fourty or fifty year olds. But never a child.
"Because I didn't want him to."
He looked at her.
"Why?"
Just because wouldn't work. She pretty much forced herself into the position that he wanted. She hated the fact that he was so smart.
"Because I didn't want him to hurt you the way he hurt me."
It was his turn to play with his glass.
"So why should I give him a chance? He hurt you. That's my decision."
She threw her head back, rolling it over her shoulders, still feeling a bit of pain when she did so. How was she ever going to get through to him.
"Yeah. But I hurt him, too. We both hurt each other, unknowingly. And when we did find out, it was too late to do anything."
He looked her straight and square in the eyes. The same way his father always did.
"Did you love him?"
What kind of question was that coming from a nine and half year old?
"Yes."
She couldn't lie to him.
"Still?"
She closed her eyes. She didn't know the answer. So she went with the obvious.
"No."
No. She didn't love anymore. Did she?
"So why should I?"
With that she watched him get up, push in his chair, and walk out, completley nonchallant.
~*~
She woke up, in an unfamiliar position, back and neck aching. She realized she was sitting up against her closet door. She had been hoping the scene a few hours ago had only been a dream. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back up against the door. She listened to the music that had woken her.
"You know that silence is loud when all you hear is your heart
And I wanted so badly just to be a part of something strong and true
But I was scared and left it all behind
I know you had to go away
I died just a little, and I feel it now
You're the one I need
I believe that I would cry just a little
Just to have you back now
Here with me... "
She got up and turned the radio off. She was up. She didn't need a reminder that this was reality. She stretched out, trying to get the knots out of her neck. She popped into her bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. Trying to pull herself together. She readjusted the robe around her waist, took a deep breathe, and headed out the door. The house was silent as far as she could tell. She always got up a half hour before the kids did, just so she could have her peace and quiet before the tornado. She walked towards the living room, hoping inwardly that he had thought it in his best interest to leave. But no such luck. He was half lying, half sitting on the sofa. Annette was rather lying on the full length, stretched out, her head against his chest. He had his arm protectively around her. It looked like a scene from one of those 60's movies, with the happy family and everything. Too bad they instituted child custody along with divorce. They were both asleep. She didn't want to wake them. Well him at least. They kept on never finishing that converstation. She headed back into the kitchen, putting on the coffee brewer. She needed a few good cups to get her going. She sat down, flipping through the ever-growing pile of mail that she never had time to look at. Bills, letters, ads. The usual. She heard the door shift, and looked up to find John looking rather upset.
"Mom, I thought something had happened to you last night..."
She nodded her head, trying her best to seem upbeat and positive.
"No, sweetie. Maybe you were dreaming."
Her son rolled his eyes.
"I was up."
She knew she had her pouty face on.
"Okay, okay. We had a little misunderstanding last night."
She watched him walk to the counter, grab his favorite glass, go to the fridge, pour himself a cup of orange juice, and sit back down.
"Mom, we're not three years old anymore."
She hated to admit that they were growing up so fast, mature beyond their years.
"I know."
He continued looking at her.
"Why was he here in the first place?"
How was she supposed to answer that question when she herself didn't know the answer.
"He's your father."
State the obvious. Might work.
"He's not my father. He's just a father. A father I don't want."
She closed her eyes. Why did she feel a tremendous headache coming on?
"John, would you listen to me? He's not a bad person. He's got a good heart. He might be a bit of work, but he's worth it. Give him a chance."
She heard him take a sip of his juice.
"If he's not a bad person, why does he just magically show up now? After we're almost 10 years old?"
She played with her cup. Why was she having these converstations with her son? This wasn't even material for fourty or fifty year olds. But never a child.
"Because I didn't want him to."
He looked at her.
"Why?"
Just because wouldn't work. She pretty much forced herself into the position that he wanted. She hated the fact that he was so smart.
"Because I didn't want him to hurt you the way he hurt me."
It was his turn to play with his glass.
"So why should I give him a chance? He hurt you. That's my decision."
She threw her head back, rolling it over her shoulders, still feeling a bit of pain when she did so. How was she ever going to get through to him.
"Yeah. But I hurt him, too. We both hurt each other, unknowingly. And when we did find out, it was too late to do anything."
He looked her straight and square in the eyes. The same way his father always did.
"Did you love him?"
What kind of question was that coming from a nine and half year old?
"Yes."
She couldn't lie to him.
"Still?"
She closed her eyes. She didn't know the answer. So she went with the obvious.
"No."
No. She didn't love anymore. Did she?
"So why should I?"
With that she watched him get up, push in his chair, and walk out, completley nonchallant.