Title: Let Go of Your Heart

Author: Andrea

Rating: R

Summary: A fight on the roof. If you want to know more, go back and read it again.

Author's Note: Thanks for the editing, COURTNEY.

*~*~*~* Let Go of Your Heart *~*~*~*

"If you want it, come and get it, crying out loud. The love that I was giving you was never in doubt. Let go your heart. Let go your head. And feel it now." ~ David Gray, Babylon

*~*Chapter 2: Stay*~*

"Now I know that I did something wrong 'cause I missed you."

*~*~*~*~*

"Abby. Oh, Abby."

I feel his arms wrap around me even while I'm huddled on the ground. I try to shrug him off of me, wanting him to go away. Except … not really. It's been months now … months when all I've wanted was to feel his arms around me once again. Still, I try to push him away. I never wanted him to see me this way. But I guess it's too late now.

The more I struggle, the tighter he holds on. So I finally let go. I stop trying to break free from his grasp and give myself over to it instead. He eases himself down so that's he sitting on the water-logged roof, his back up against the ledge. I'm pulled along with him and end up curled against him, leaning on his chest. For a long time that's how we remain. He doesn't say a word, just holds on tight, letting me cry. The rain stops as suddenly as it began, the storm moving on. Eventually my tears dry up, leaving me sniffling in between shuddery breaths.

"Feel better?" He asks softly when I've quieted down.

"Not really," I say as I look at him. That's when I notice the tears in the corner of his eyes. "Why are you crying?" I ask, taking a deep breath.

"Because it breaks my heart, seeing you like this. And knowing that I'm the one who caused you all this pain."

For long moment our eyes are locked together as we share on of those significant looks that were such a trademark of ours in the past. I can't seem to break away from his gaze. And for the life of me, I can't think of anything to say. Oh, sure … now I'm rendered speechless … after spilling my guts to Carter. Great timing. As usual.

"I never meant to hurt you, Abby. But now I know that I did."

I look away from him then, because I'm not sure that I really believe that. Maybe he didn't realize the extent of the pain he was inflicting, but I think that on some level he was trying to hurt me … to get back at me for letting him down, for disappointing him.

"John … you walked away from me. I know you felt like you had to go. And it's a good thing you did; you saved Luka's life. But the way you left … you just turned your back on me. Like I didn't even matter. Like I wasn't even an important enough part of your life for you to consider how I might feel."

I glance over at him and notice, for the first time, how tired he seems as he stares out into space. Maybe he's been as worn down by this as I have. He runs his hand along his brow and then down his face before beginning to speak in a voice that clearly reflects the exhaustion on his face.

"You're right, Abby. I didn't think about how you felt. You asked me then if I thought about you when I left the first time. And the truth is, I really didn't. I was too wrapped up in my own … pain and confusion. I was selfish. And I was wrong. But I was just so hurt … by everything. And I felt like somehow, you'd slipped away from me. That whatever had made us 'us' was gone. And I couldn't stand how that felt. Being with you, but feeling that we weren't really together. Suddenly, it was harder to be near you than to be away from you. Because seeing you was a reminder of what we could have had … of what I wanted so much, but that had somehow slipped through my fingers. So if I thought of you at all … well, I didn't it know at that time … and even now I'm not sure … but maybe there was a part of me that wanted to see you hurting the way I did."

"Carter," I say, starting to pull away from him. This isn't making it any better, and I'm not sure I want to hear anymore. "Maybe we shouldn't do this. Maybe opening all these old wounds is just going to hurt us both more. Maybe I should just go, and we can pretend that none of this ever happened." I untangle myself from him and stand up.

"No. Abby … stay. Please, I want you to hear this. I know it's not easy … but if I've learned anything, it's that running away solves nothing. You can't avoid your feelings forever. No matter how hard you try."

"I'm not trying to run away."

"No, that's my job," he says with a wry chuckle. "I never should have accused you of being the one doing the running. Because I was just as guilty of that. Maybe even more than you. But I don't want to run now. I want to get this all out in the open."

"I just don't want to pour salt in the wound."

"But sometimes you have to open it back up for it to heal. Abby, we have to deal with this. We have to get it out. Otherwise, it'll just fester inside of us and eat away at us. I'm tired of feeling this way."

"What way?" I ask. We're both standing up now, leaning, side-by-side, against the low wall of the roof. I look over at him and notice for the first time how pale he looks. How drained he seems. He doesn't say anything for a long time. Finally, I ask him, "John? Feeling what way?"

"Empty. Alone. Oh God, Abby … I really thought that we'd be better off on our own. I really did. The way I left you … the way I broke up with you, that wasn't right, and it wasn't fair to you. And I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry …" His voice breaks on the apology and the tears in his eyes slip down his cheeks this time. He brings his hand up to wipe them away. I reach out and take that hand in mine.

"I know you are," I assure him.

"I really thought it was for the best, you know? And I knew it was gonna hurt. For a while. But God, I was already in so much pain, maybe I thought it would be easier to take. It was too hard hoping, but worrying that I was hoping in vain. I just couldn't see a way for us to work it out. It seemed better to give up than to hope for something that I thought could never happen. So I left you. I gave up on us. And I went as far away as I could get -- to a place where I could be as busy as possible -- so that I wouldn't have to think about it or deal with how much I missed you. But God how I missed you. And that didn't go away. I kept thinking it would. But it didn't. And then I came back …" His voice is still strained and wavering as he trails off, turning his head to look out over the vista of the city around us.

"And it just got harder," I finish for him. I should now, I felt it myself.

"Yeah." He looks back at me, and give me a tentative little smile, squeezing my hand gently.

"I was okay while you were gone. Yeah, I kinda threw myself into work … but still, I was getting by. Trying hard to keep busy, like you said. But I was … pretty much happy. Happy to be back in med school. Happy to have made some new friends. Happy with myself. And most of the time … most of the time I could forget. But I can't tell you how many times I would learn some new procedure, or have a great save, or lose a patient, and the first thing I would think would be, 'I have to tell Carter about this.' And then it would hit me like a freight train: you were gone."

"I know what you mean," he says, a small and somewhat melancholy smile on his face. "There were so many times that I wished you were there. Like you said, it sneaks up on you. Sometimes it was with patients. I didn't realize how great it is to have someone at my side, anticipating my every move until I didn't have it any more. And there were other times … a sunset, a sudden storm … and I would think of you and wish that you were there to see it. And I thought it would happen less and less as time went on. But it didn't. I think it got worse, in fact. It got to the point where I didn't think I could possibly miss you any more than I already did. Until I came home. And here you were. In the same city, the same hospital, the same room. And still I miss you terribly. But it helps … a little … seeing you so … healthy, well-adjusted."

"Is that what you think?" I ask him, my tone sarcastic but playful.

"Well, yeah. You seem to have it all together. You seem to have things under control."

"Yeah, well … maybe I'm at semi-well-adjusted."

"But are you happy?"

"Yeah. I guess. Sort of," I say, wishing that I could manage to sound more convincing.

"But you just said that you're glad to be back in med school, and you seem happier than you were with -- well, you seem happier … now."

"I am. In some ways. But …"

"But you're not really happy are you?" He asks, sounding almost hopeful. He asked me the same thing before. I know what he's getting at, but I'm not sure I can give him an answer right now. Am I completely happy now? No. But was I completely happy when we were together? No. But that was more about me than him. Still, I don't if getting back together with him is the right thing. Is that what it will take to make me truly happy? I wish I knew.

"I really thought that we'd both be better off apart." His voice is sad and wistful, almost as if he's talking to himself and not me. "And when I came home and you seemed so much more content, I thought I'd done the right thing. I just wanted you to be happy, Abby."

A resurgence of the anger that I felt before suddenly flairs up. I pull my hand out of his. "You have a hell of a way of showing it, Carter. And please, let's not pretend that you did what you did for me. You said it yourself. You weren't even thinking about me. You did what you wanted to do. What you thought was best for you. There may have been a time when you wanted to see me happy, but it certainly wasn't what you were feeling when you left me … or you never would have gone. At least, not like that."

"I didn't really think you'd care," he says quietly, sounding as if he's on the verge of tears again.

"How can you say that? I wouldn't care? How could you think that I wouldn't care? You were my … boyfriend. And my best friend. I was … in love with you. And you somehow thought that it wouldn't affect me at all when you went halfway around the world to a war-torn nation?" The sarcasm just drips off my words.

"You had more important things on your mind," he replies with a bitter tone.

"That's not fair, John. He's my brother. And I'm all he has."

"You were all I had, too."

"Except for your parents. And your cousins. And your friends."

"But you were the only one that I could talk to. The only one I wanted to talk to. When Gamma died, I just felt so alone. And I wanted you to … I just wanted to know that I wasn't alone. That you would be there for me the way I was always there for you. And when you couldn't do that, I had to ask myself if things could ever work between us. And I had to wonder if you would ever be as invested in us as I was."

I can't believe it. I can't believe I'm hearing this. I look at him in disbelief, laughing with bitterness as I say, "If I would ever be as 'invested' as you? I was the one always chasing you, begging you to talk things out, to work things out. You were the one running away, even while you accused me of doing that very thing. And you were there, yes. And I appreciated that. But John, you were there for me when it was convenient. When it fed your ego. When you could play the hero and try to fix me."

"Oh, that's not fair, Abby. I was there for you whenever you would let me be … whenever you didn't shut me out."

"I didn't shut you out."

"Of course you did."

"I was trying to protect you."

"But I didn't want to be protected," he says in exasperation.

"And I didn't want to be fixed," I tell him, the tenor of my voice raising.

"I was just trying to help you," he says, his voice taking on an almost pleading tone.

"I didn't need you to help me. I just needed you to love me. I didn't need to be fixed because I was okay. I had some things I needed to work on, but I was trying. I really was. But it wasn't good enough for you. So you walked away. Just like everyone else. I never thought you'd be like everyone else."

He takes a deep breath, letting it out as a long sigh. "I know, Abby. I know I let you down. I promised you. And then I broke that promise. I was a jerk. And a fool. I was blaming you for things that weren't your fault. It's just that when Gamma died … I didn't know how to handle it. All that pain. And the fear. And as if losing her wasn't bad enough, I felt like you were slipping away from me, too. But I thought that maybe that was for the best. I didn't want to love you anymore than I already did. I didn't want to need you anymore than I already did. Because losing Gamma was so hard …"

"So you cut me loose before you could lose me in some other way?" I ask. It's a strategy that I know well.

"I guess," he shrugs.

"It's scary, isn't it?"

"What?" He asks.

"Loving someone. Letting them in. Coming to depend on them." I stop for a minute, looking up at the stars, feeling the wind on my face. "I know that sometimes I didn't tell you everything. I didn't mean to shut you out, but I wasn't letting you in, either. And that was to protect you. In part. But it was also to protect myself. Because if I let myself depend on you, if I forgot how to deal with it on my own … where would I be when you left?"

"I wasn't going to leave, Abby."

"But you did."

"I wanted to marry you."

"But it didn't feel right."

"I just wasn't sure. I wasn't sure that we were ready. And it was too important to me … you were too important to me for me to risk messing it up. But I guess that's what happened anyway."

"Maybe you just weren't sure that I was the one. Maybe you just weren't sure that you really loved me."

"No. I loved you, Abby. Still do, as a matter of fact." He turns to face me, taking my hands in both of his. "It took me a while to figure that out. But now I know. It's not just that I'm drawn to you. It's not that I need you in some unhealthy, co-dependent way. It's that I love you. And no matter what I do or where I go, I can't seem to stop. It's that simple. I love you, Abby."

"Nothing is ever simple with us."

"No, maybe not. But I love you. And if you mean what you said before, you love me, too."

"I meant it."

"I know." But his eyes are questioning, his look imploring me to reassure him.

"I love you." And I do. There's not really any escaping that. I'm just not sure what it means.

"I love you, too." His relief is obvious as a big grin spreads across his face. "And that's all that really matters, right?"

"John …" I start, pulling away from him, walking a few feet away before turning back to look at him. "It's not that easy. Not now. Yes, I love you. But I'm not sure that I can trust you. And I'm not sure that we should be together."

I can tell by the way his shoulders slump that he's disappointed, maybe even hurt. But we have to be honest with each other. If there's any hope for us at all, we have to learn how tell the truth about what we're feeling.

"I don't blame you for not trusting me. And I'm sure that giving you my word won't do much to reassure you. I made a lot of mistakes. Big mistakes. But I won't make them again. I like to think that I've learned something from them. And even though we've still got a lot to work out, I'm hoping that you'd be willing to at least … give us a chance. Give me a chance. To make it up to you. God knows, I've got a lot to make up to you. I don't know if you can forgive me, but I hope that you can. If not now, maybe … someday."

He gives me a hopeful little smile. All I can do is look back at him. I can only imagine that the look on my face must be somewhere between trepidation and exhilaration. A part of me wanted nothing more than to hear him say these words to me. But another part has been terrified of hearing them. And now I'm torn. And I mostly feel confused. And I think he sees my mixed emotions in my eyes. He reaches out tentatively and takes my hand, pulling me closer to him so that we stand just a few inches apart. He looks into my eyes, and I can see the depth of the emotion in his.

"I know that I hurt you," he continues, his voice illustrating his sincerity. "And I know that I was selfish. And I would do anything … anything if I could just take it all back. But I can't. And I know this won't mean much coming from me now, but I promise you that if you just give me a chance, I'll spend the rest of my life making you glad that you did. And doing everything I can to make you happy. I took you for granted. I took us for granted. But that won't happen again. I know better now. If I'm lucky enough to ever have the privilege of calling you mine again, I won't ever forget just how fortunate I am. Because all I really want is another chance at happiness. With you. Because, Abby … you're it for me. You're the one. Without you, I don't think I could ever really be truly happy."

He brushes the back of his finger lightly along my cheek, his eyes once again begging me to answer him. And again, I know the question without having to hear it, but I don't know what my answer will be. Is this a risk I'm willing to take? He left me once. He broke my heart. What kind of fool would open herself up to that all over again?

"Abby?" The tears are collecting in his eyes again. And I can feel them welling up in my eyes, too. "What do you think? Do you think you can forgive me? Will you let me prove to you that you can trust me?"

I don't know. Oh God, I just don't know. My head is screaming at me to run away before it's too late. But my heart says something else entirely.

"Please, Abby? I know I've caused you so much pain. But I love you. And you love me. And I think we owe it to ourselves to try again. Please? I promise you won't regret it."

I wish I could believe that. I wish I could be sure. But there are no guarantees. No guarantees at all.

"Abby? Will you give 'us' another chance?"