Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. If they did ER would be
having a very different season.
Spoilers: Up to and including 10.10 and 10.11
Summary: Carter returns from Africa and he and Abby try to coexist at County.
Chapter 1
The days go by quickly. That's how I respond when asked how one completes medical school while working part-time as an ER nurse. And that statement is completely true while simultaneously being a boldfaced lie. The days do go by quickly; I am so busy with my studies and trying to look like I know what I am doing that I have very few spare moments to let my thoughts take me out of the reality that is the hospital. But occasionally I do have those spare moments, a cigarette break here, a long ride in the elevator there, and those moments go by at a snail's pace. Because it is in those moments that I catch myself asking these haunting questions;
"What if I wouldn't have asked for my key back?"
"What if I wouldn't have brought Eric to the funeral?"
"What if I would have told him I loved him?"
"What if I wasn't so damn afraid to take a risk?"
"Why couldn't I accept the fact that someone might care about me enough to put up with my crazy family and the emotional scars they have left me with?"
I've told myself that it is silly to think about these things. Carter is in Africa, and for all I know he may never be back. See, one thing we have in common is that we both run away from our issues. We shove them back into the dark recesses of our souls until they manifest themselves in unhealthy ways. Such as addiction. Or fear of commitment. Or sabotaging any chance of true happiness you may have. Or running away to Africa under a guise of fulfilling your destiny as a doctor. So after I received my letter from John, I decided that it was time to face my demons head on. I started going to AA. I went back to med school. I told my brother that I couldn't support him until he started taking care of himself. And I finally admitted to myself that I had hurt the one person I had ever truly been in love with by pushing him away until he could no longer take it.
"Hey Abby!" Susan rescues me from my thoughts once again as she flags me down. "Are you on med student duty or nurse duty right now?"
I glance down at my in descript scrubs and realize that I could probably answer either way. "That depends, what do you need?"
"Pablo has to pee and I need a urine sample."
I look at Susan and make a face. "Wrong answer."
"So you're on a med student shift?"
"Wrong again," I smirk. "I was actually off 10 minutes ago, I was just checking up on a patient."
Susan gives me a sly smile. "So that means that you are free for dinner."
"Once again, that depends. What do you need?"
Susan looks towards me with pleading eyes. "I need someone to get me out dinner with my mom."
I shrug my shoulders. "Sorry, as much as I can sympathize with the need to avoid a healthy dose of familial dysfunction, I've been on for 24 hours and am on in another 12. I need to study and sleep."
"Fine" Susan pouts, "but we should get together soon."
"Sure. 'Night Susan."
"Goodnight."
As I head home I realize that I am lucky. Lucky to have a friend like Susan. Lucky to be in medical school, pursuing a dream I have had since I was a child. But that still can't stop that nagging feeling that something is not quite right. That something is missing. That someone is missing. "Stop it Abby!" I curse myself under my breath. I promised myself that I would no longer wallow in self-pity and doubt. That I would take all of the anger and hurt that I felt and use it as motivation to better myself. For the most part I had. I can honestly say that on some level I am happier than I have been in a long time. My work is satisfying, I have opened myself up to new friendships and I am actively working on my recovery. And the longer I go without living in self-doubt and fear, the easier in becomes. I am proud of myself. I like myself. Unfortunately, I still have moments like these, sitting on the El, headed back to an empty apartment. Because as proud as I am of my self-improvements, I want someone to share them with. I want to share them with John.
******************************************************************
I sometimes wish I could share the experiences I had in Africa with Abby. The amazing sunsets that paint the sky with colors I never knew existed, the people, who have so little yet possess such an enormous capacity for love, and the satisfaction one feels from working in a land where every bit of help counts. But then I remember that Abby and I will never share experiences like these again. Because I've moved on. I've stopped the pattern of Abby pushing me away, me getting hurt. I have a new life now. I just wish I could stop thinking about the old one.
Shortly after I sent Luka home with my letter to Abby I met Kem. She was confident, strong and beautiful. I was instantly attracted to her. She made me laugh, and more importantly, made me forget about my life back in Chicago. We slept together only once, and, despite using a condom, that one time resulted in pregnancy. At first I was shocked and overwhelmed, but as time went on, the idea grew on me. John Carter the father. The empty feeling that had been gnawing away at my stomach for months began to disappear. I jumped into the expectant father role with renewed energy. I arranged for the two of us to fly back to Chicago so that Kem could receive proper prenatal care. We moved into the mansion, as I had stopped paying rent on my apartment after I left for Africa the second time. It was a little embarrassing to be surrounded by so much wealth after witnessing such horrific poverty. Kem made more than a few comments about the injustices of the United States while I was giving her the tour. We still weren't sleeping together; before we discovered Kem was pregnant we had agreed that we were better off as friends. However, since we have arrived in Chicago, Kem has been pushing for us to further develop our relationship. "For the baby's sake" she explained. And although I desperately want to have romantic feelings for her, I just can not make myself feel something that is not there. But she is the mother of my child, so I know I have to try.
"Are you going to bed soon John?" Kem's voice snaps me back to reality.
"In a little while. I 'm too wired to sleep right now," I reply.
Kem cocks her head to the side and asks, "Are you nervous about going back to work tomorrow."
"A little," I reply truthfully.
"Well, don't forget, I'll be there at 2:00 for our sonogram."
I smile at the thought of our first look at our child. "Don't worry, I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Kem returns my smile, then turns around and calls over her shoulder, "'Night John."
As I watch her walk away I find myself wondering if Abby will be working tomorrow. I convince myself it is because I want to know if I should prepare myself for an awkward situation, but deep down I know that its because I miss her. And that realization makes me wish I am back in Africa, where the rules are different, and I do not have to face the hurt and pain that we inflicted upon each other.
Authors note: I didn't want to say this at the beginning, but this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction. Therefore, any CONSTRUCTIVE criticism would be immensely appreciated. Also, I would love to have a Beta, especially for formatting the text; I don't know how to make it look like I want it to! I have the whole story mapped out, let me know if I should continue. Thanks!
Spoilers: Up to and including 10.10 and 10.11
Summary: Carter returns from Africa and he and Abby try to coexist at County.
Chapter 1
The days go by quickly. That's how I respond when asked how one completes medical school while working part-time as an ER nurse. And that statement is completely true while simultaneously being a boldfaced lie. The days do go by quickly; I am so busy with my studies and trying to look like I know what I am doing that I have very few spare moments to let my thoughts take me out of the reality that is the hospital. But occasionally I do have those spare moments, a cigarette break here, a long ride in the elevator there, and those moments go by at a snail's pace. Because it is in those moments that I catch myself asking these haunting questions;
"What if I wouldn't have asked for my key back?"
"What if I wouldn't have brought Eric to the funeral?"
"What if I would have told him I loved him?"
"What if I wasn't so damn afraid to take a risk?"
"Why couldn't I accept the fact that someone might care about me enough to put up with my crazy family and the emotional scars they have left me with?"
I've told myself that it is silly to think about these things. Carter is in Africa, and for all I know he may never be back. See, one thing we have in common is that we both run away from our issues. We shove them back into the dark recesses of our souls until they manifest themselves in unhealthy ways. Such as addiction. Or fear of commitment. Or sabotaging any chance of true happiness you may have. Or running away to Africa under a guise of fulfilling your destiny as a doctor. So after I received my letter from John, I decided that it was time to face my demons head on. I started going to AA. I went back to med school. I told my brother that I couldn't support him until he started taking care of himself. And I finally admitted to myself that I had hurt the one person I had ever truly been in love with by pushing him away until he could no longer take it.
"Hey Abby!" Susan rescues me from my thoughts once again as she flags me down. "Are you on med student duty or nurse duty right now?"
I glance down at my in descript scrubs and realize that I could probably answer either way. "That depends, what do you need?"
"Pablo has to pee and I need a urine sample."
I look at Susan and make a face. "Wrong answer."
"So you're on a med student shift?"
"Wrong again," I smirk. "I was actually off 10 minutes ago, I was just checking up on a patient."
Susan gives me a sly smile. "So that means that you are free for dinner."
"Once again, that depends. What do you need?"
Susan looks towards me with pleading eyes. "I need someone to get me out dinner with my mom."
I shrug my shoulders. "Sorry, as much as I can sympathize with the need to avoid a healthy dose of familial dysfunction, I've been on for 24 hours and am on in another 12. I need to study and sleep."
"Fine" Susan pouts, "but we should get together soon."
"Sure. 'Night Susan."
"Goodnight."
As I head home I realize that I am lucky. Lucky to have a friend like Susan. Lucky to be in medical school, pursuing a dream I have had since I was a child. But that still can't stop that nagging feeling that something is not quite right. That something is missing. That someone is missing. "Stop it Abby!" I curse myself under my breath. I promised myself that I would no longer wallow in self-pity and doubt. That I would take all of the anger and hurt that I felt and use it as motivation to better myself. For the most part I had. I can honestly say that on some level I am happier than I have been in a long time. My work is satisfying, I have opened myself up to new friendships and I am actively working on my recovery. And the longer I go without living in self-doubt and fear, the easier in becomes. I am proud of myself. I like myself. Unfortunately, I still have moments like these, sitting on the El, headed back to an empty apartment. Because as proud as I am of my self-improvements, I want someone to share them with. I want to share them with John.
******************************************************************
I sometimes wish I could share the experiences I had in Africa with Abby. The amazing sunsets that paint the sky with colors I never knew existed, the people, who have so little yet possess such an enormous capacity for love, and the satisfaction one feels from working in a land where every bit of help counts. But then I remember that Abby and I will never share experiences like these again. Because I've moved on. I've stopped the pattern of Abby pushing me away, me getting hurt. I have a new life now. I just wish I could stop thinking about the old one.
Shortly after I sent Luka home with my letter to Abby I met Kem. She was confident, strong and beautiful. I was instantly attracted to her. She made me laugh, and more importantly, made me forget about my life back in Chicago. We slept together only once, and, despite using a condom, that one time resulted in pregnancy. At first I was shocked and overwhelmed, but as time went on, the idea grew on me. John Carter the father. The empty feeling that had been gnawing away at my stomach for months began to disappear. I jumped into the expectant father role with renewed energy. I arranged for the two of us to fly back to Chicago so that Kem could receive proper prenatal care. We moved into the mansion, as I had stopped paying rent on my apartment after I left for Africa the second time. It was a little embarrassing to be surrounded by so much wealth after witnessing such horrific poverty. Kem made more than a few comments about the injustices of the United States while I was giving her the tour. We still weren't sleeping together; before we discovered Kem was pregnant we had agreed that we were better off as friends. However, since we have arrived in Chicago, Kem has been pushing for us to further develop our relationship. "For the baby's sake" she explained. And although I desperately want to have romantic feelings for her, I just can not make myself feel something that is not there. But she is the mother of my child, so I know I have to try.
"Are you going to bed soon John?" Kem's voice snaps me back to reality.
"In a little while. I 'm too wired to sleep right now," I reply.
Kem cocks her head to the side and asks, "Are you nervous about going back to work tomorrow."
"A little," I reply truthfully.
"Well, don't forget, I'll be there at 2:00 for our sonogram."
I smile at the thought of our first look at our child. "Don't worry, I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Kem returns my smile, then turns around and calls over her shoulder, "'Night John."
As I watch her walk away I find myself wondering if Abby will be working tomorrow. I convince myself it is because I want to know if I should prepare myself for an awkward situation, but deep down I know that its because I miss her. And that realization makes me wish I am back in Africa, where the rules are different, and I do not have to face the hurt and pain that we inflicted upon each other.
Authors note: I didn't want to say this at the beginning, but this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction. Therefore, any CONSTRUCTIVE criticism would be immensely appreciated. Also, I would love to have a Beta, especially for formatting the text; I don't know how to make it look like I want it to! I have the whole story mapped out, let me know if I should continue. Thanks!