Author's Notes::: , Kattybaby2318 Fuuruma: Thanks so much for making me start this thing up once again.. LOL I hope it's up to your expectations... Maven: Yup. A chapter a day. Maybe even two today. I don't know.. I"m a bit under the weather, but a promise is a promise.... Kattybaby2318: Did I ever mention you are the absolute best?? LOL Thanks so much for helping me brainstorm and figure out what is going on.. I'd be lost without you!! Ohhh I can pimp the fic in here two.. LOL For whoever doesn't know, me and Kat have written two fics together.. One of them has reached Chapter 106+ Something like that, it's called Hate to Love and Back.. It's a wild ride.. And then we started another one, a bit more mature, it's called Bittersweet Regrets, so if your bored, please take a read!! :o) And when your done reading my annoying author notes, and after your done reading the chapter itself.. Please please please please review?? For the sake of my ultimate sanity? PLEASE!! I live for reviews.. Thanks to everyone and hope you enjoy!!!
~*~
He put on his coat and scarf, shift completed and muscles aching. He threw his bag carelessly around his shoulder, dropping off the charts from the previous night to Kerry and heading out the door. He hadn't had a chance to speak with her; she had all but disappeared after their encounter. She managed to get out three hours earlier, leaving him with a major trauma and grouchy old women. He walked up the stairs and ran his card through the machine, allowing him entrance to the L platform. The train showed up a few minutes later, and he trudged into the packed cart, finding a seat and sitting down, completely exhausted. He pulled out his wallet to place the card inside, shoving it into a random compartment, not caring that he will have to look for it later. A gleaming piece of paper caught his eye, folded and torn in too many places to count. It's the exhaustion that made him notice it. Otherwise, he's in too much of a rush to realize these tiny details. He pulled it out, a folded picture. The same picture. A smile began to spread across his face, it was out of his control now. She looked bedazzling with her light smile and careless expression. The train pulled to a stop and he started to get off, not exactly sure where he was going since this wasn't his stop. He knew, but he didn't want to make himself believe it.
He walked the short block completely unaware of what was going to happen. What did he expect her to do? Apologize and jump into his arms? This was Abby, not Kem. Two different people with two different attitudes toward him. Kem left an imprint on him. She's not that easy to forget. She showed him how easy it was to be deceived. He reached the same short metal gate, his hand reached for the broken handle and lifted then pushed. It had taken a while to learn how to do, but he had managed. He walked up the same cement steps to the same wooden door. He opened it and he walked up the same dirty red carpeted stairs. His hands grazed the same railing. Nothing had changed, when in fact, everything had. Three years ago, he would have been walking up these stairs with his heart pounding and pulse racing, a smile etched upon his face, going up to see her. She had been a goddess to him, untouchable. Everything about her drove him insane, he was drawn to her like a child was drawn to mischief. Her problems seemed minimal to him, anything to help her, anything to be next to her for a short time. Then last year that dream became a reality. Trudging these same steps except a key was in his hand, a home waiting for him. He had never had the benefit of someone waiting for him, and that one year had changed everything for him. She was there when he came home actually waiting for him. A simple ritual, meant so much more to him. He had a vague satisfaction knowing that she was his, through everything. Yet it wasn't always that clear cut, her problems became his problems, and he couldn't turn away. Times he didn't want to, and other times it seemed like too much to bare. He felt like he was trapped, but he didn't want to get out either. She always had the control over him, even when he knew he had her, she still could control him. And now, she still controlled him. He was only standing in front of her door because of the pull she had on him. He would never not respond to it. It was a sudden pull that his body had. He was so confused now, he would never be certain what to expect from Abby.
He rapped at the door, mentally hoping she wouldn't be home. He would have quickly jet down the stairs had he any control over his body, but his mind was insignificant to the bigger picture. He heard the first lock open and then the chain come out. The same door swung open and the same Abby stood before him, exhausted and rumpled, he had woken her up.
"What do you want, Carter?"
He pushed his hands into his pockets, hoping that if he dug far enough he would find a button that would transport him to Pluto. His face fell to the floor, but his eyes looked up at her, she never looked more beautiful.
"To talk."
He saw her run her hands though her hair, suddenly becoming conscious of the crazy state of her blonde mane.
"You missed your chance."
He finally mustered enough energy to look up at her, her gaze could have melt right through him. He saw her fold her arms across her chest, the cold from the hallway probably disrupting her even more. He wanted to say something, beg, plead. But she stepped out the way, opening the door a bit wider for him. He complied. He can't be the one to call the shots right now. It wouldn't be fair.
"I'm sorry."
He heard a smirk from her as she closed the door. He could imagine her rolling her eyes, but could never even think of the thoughts going through her head.
"A little too late for apologizes as well. Get to the point, I have a shift tonight. I need at least 12 hours of sleep."
He followed her as she walked toward the kitchen, setting the kettle for tea. Her blinds were all pulled, not letting any sunshine in, a sure sign she wasn't lying when she said she was trying to sleep.
"About last night."
He was she froze for a second, he could have sworn he saw her cringe.
"What about it?"
She turned around facing him, he suddenly became nervous. It was easier to talk to her back than to her face.
"Where do we stand?"
She was leaning against the counter, looking out into space. She finally diverted her gaze straight at him.
"I don't know where I stand for you, but you were nothing but a big mistake for me."
He looked away from her, he couldn't bare taking any of this.
"You're a liar."
He saw her expression freeze, that was a bit out of line, especially for this conversation.
"And you're a hypocrite."
He saw the fire in her eyes, she wasn't happy, far from it.
"How am I a hypocrite?"
She gave him an ironical little laugh, rolling her eyes and pulling on the towel she held in her hands.
"You would always complain about my problems, how everything was always because of me . . . Well guess what, it's not. I've said it once, and I'll say it again. You've got problems, major problems."
He could almost recall, word for word, the conversation in the ambulance bay that day. The same day that he made a split second decision that changed his life.
"And you claim you've changed. You're no different from the last time I saw you."
He knew he was lying now. She had changed, in more ways than one. Yet he could still see the crumbling foundation that this new Abby was set upon. It wasn't steady at all.
"I'm happy with my life, which is much more than I can say for you."
Now she's making assumptions.
"How would you know that?"
He received a sure smile from her in response.
"Because you wouldn't be here."
It was true. He knew it was true. He wouldn't be searching for the one that made him human, and that one thing was standing right in front of him. He wanted to be with her, to take away all her pains, to give her the world. But she didn't want it, she wanted to make him suffer.
"You're the same."
She shrugged her shoulders. She's gained a lot more confidence.
"So be it."
He started to play with the keys in his pocket, avoiding looking at her. If he looked at her, he would get out the words he had been hoping to say.
"You're doing the same thing you did before. Pushing people that care about you away. You claim to have moved on. You haven't. How come you haven't found yourself a boyfriend? A husband? Gotten married? Had children? You're too scared. Abby, you . . . You are amazing. You just don't see how much potential you have. You'd make a great wife . . . A perfect mother . . . "
She had turned around, turning the kettle off, and slamming the cabinet doors shut.
"And what? Risk passing on the disease?"
He rolled his eyes, she hadn't moved on all that much. The disease still controls her every move.
"You'd still love your child, no matter what. Being pregnant is one of the most wonderful feelings ever . . . "
She turned around, cup of steaming tea in her hand, placing it down on the table.
"I know. I've been pregnant. Twice in fact."
She said it so nonchalant, as if she was talking about a patient, or a close friend, not about herself. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Abby? When? How? He would never have known.
"What happened?"
She sat down, stirring in a spoon of sugar into her dark cup.
"I couldn't go through with it."
A few simple words could change so many perspectives on a simple subject.
"I didn't know."
She looks up, nothing on her face, a blank stare.
"Neither did I."
He watched her play with her cup, the liquid still too hot to drink.
"With Richard?"
He watched her nod her head, it didn't seem to affect her in the slightest.
"The first time. He never knew. Neither of them knew."
He looked out around the room, the furniture, the paintings, the carpet, everything just the way he remembered it.
"Them?"
She nodded her head again, looking him straight in the eyes.
"You."
~*~
He put on his coat and scarf, shift completed and muscles aching. He threw his bag carelessly around his shoulder, dropping off the charts from the previous night to Kerry and heading out the door. He hadn't had a chance to speak with her; she had all but disappeared after their encounter. She managed to get out three hours earlier, leaving him with a major trauma and grouchy old women. He walked up the stairs and ran his card through the machine, allowing him entrance to the L platform. The train showed up a few minutes later, and he trudged into the packed cart, finding a seat and sitting down, completely exhausted. He pulled out his wallet to place the card inside, shoving it into a random compartment, not caring that he will have to look for it later. A gleaming piece of paper caught his eye, folded and torn in too many places to count. It's the exhaustion that made him notice it. Otherwise, he's in too much of a rush to realize these tiny details. He pulled it out, a folded picture. The same picture. A smile began to spread across his face, it was out of his control now. She looked bedazzling with her light smile and careless expression. The train pulled to a stop and he started to get off, not exactly sure where he was going since this wasn't his stop. He knew, but he didn't want to make himself believe it.
He walked the short block completely unaware of what was going to happen. What did he expect her to do? Apologize and jump into his arms? This was Abby, not Kem. Two different people with two different attitudes toward him. Kem left an imprint on him. She's not that easy to forget. She showed him how easy it was to be deceived. He reached the same short metal gate, his hand reached for the broken handle and lifted then pushed. It had taken a while to learn how to do, but he had managed. He walked up the same cement steps to the same wooden door. He opened it and he walked up the same dirty red carpeted stairs. His hands grazed the same railing. Nothing had changed, when in fact, everything had. Three years ago, he would have been walking up these stairs with his heart pounding and pulse racing, a smile etched upon his face, going up to see her. She had been a goddess to him, untouchable. Everything about her drove him insane, he was drawn to her like a child was drawn to mischief. Her problems seemed minimal to him, anything to help her, anything to be next to her for a short time. Then last year that dream became a reality. Trudging these same steps except a key was in his hand, a home waiting for him. He had never had the benefit of someone waiting for him, and that one year had changed everything for him. She was there when he came home actually waiting for him. A simple ritual, meant so much more to him. He had a vague satisfaction knowing that she was his, through everything. Yet it wasn't always that clear cut, her problems became his problems, and he couldn't turn away. Times he didn't want to, and other times it seemed like too much to bare. He felt like he was trapped, but he didn't want to get out either. She always had the control over him, even when he knew he had her, she still could control him. And now, she still controlled him. He was only standing in front of her door because of the pull she had on him. He would never not respond to it. It was a sudden pull that his body had. He was so confused now, he would never be certain what to expect from Abby.
He rapped at the door, mentally hoping she wouldn't be home. He would have quickly jet down the stairs had he any control over his body, but his mind was insignificant to the bigger picture. He heard the first lock open and then the chain come out. The same door swung open and the same Abby stood before him, exhausted and rumpled, he had woken her up.
"What do you want, Carter?"
He pushed his hands into his pockets, hoping that if he dug far enough he would find a button that would transport him to Pluto. His face fell to the floor, but his eyes looked up at her, she never looked more beautiful.
"To talk."
He saw her run her hands though her hair, suddenly becoming conscious of the crazy state of her blonde mane.
"You missed your chance."
He finally mustered enough energy to look up at her, her gaze could have melt right through him. He saw her fold her arms across her chest, the cold from the hallway probably disrupting her even more. He wanted to say something, beg, plead. But she stepped out the way, opening the door a bit wider for him. He complied. He can't be the one to call the shots right now. It wouldn't be fair.
"I'm sorry."
He heard a smirk from her as she closed the door. He could imagine her rolling her eyes, but could never even think of the thoughts going through her head.
"A little too late for apologizes as well. Get to the point, I have a shift tonight. I need at least 12 hours of sleep."
He followed her as she walked toward the kitchen, setting the kettle for tea. Her blinds were all pulled, not letting any sunshine in, a sure sign she wasn't lying when she said she was trying to sleep.
"About last night."
He was she froze for a second, he could have sworn he saw her cringe.
"What about it?"
She turned around facing him, he suddenly became nervous. It was easier to talk to her back than to her face.
"Where do we stand?"
She was leaning against the counter, looking out into space. She finally diverted her gaze straight at him.
"I don't know where I stand for you, but you were nothing but a big mistake for me."
He looked away from her, he couldn't bare taking any of this.
"You're a liar."
He saw her expression freeze, that was a bit out of line, especially for this conversation.
"And you're a hypocrite."
He saw the fire in her eyes, she wasn't happy, far from it.
"How am I a hypocrite?"
She gave him an ironical little laugh, rolling her eyes and pulling on the towel she held in her hands.
"You would always complain about my problems, how everything was always because of me . . . Well guess what, it's not. I've said it once, and I'll say it again. You've got problems, major problems."
He could almost recall, word for word, the conversation in the ambulance bay that day. The same day that he made a split second decision that changed his life.
"And you claim you've changed. You're no different from the last time I saw you."
He knew he was lying now. She had changed, in more ways than one. Yet he could still see the crumbling foundation that this new Abby was set upon. It wasn't steady at all.
"I'm happy with my life, which is much more than I can say for you."
Now she's making assumptions.
"How would you know that?"
He received a sure smile from her in response.
"Because you wouldn't be here."
It was true. He knew it was true. He wouldn't be searching for the one that made him human, and that one thing was standing right in front of him. He wanted to be with her, to take away all her pains, to give her the world. But she didn't want it, she wanted to make him suffer.
"You're the same."
She shrugged her shoulders. She's gained a lot more confidence.
"So be it."
He started to play with the keys in his pocket, avoiding looking at her. If he looked at her, he would get out the words he had been hoping to say.
"You're doing the same thing you did before. Pushing people that care about you away. You claim to have moved on. You haven't. How come you haven't found yourself a boyfriend? A husband? Gotten married? Had children? You're too scared. Abby, you . . . You are amazing. You just don't see how much potential you have. You'd make a great wife . . . A perfect mother . . . "
She had turned around, turning the kettle off, and slamming the cabinet doors shut.
"And what? Risk passing on the disease?"
He rolled his eyes, she hadn't moved on all that much. The disease still controls her every move.
"You'd still love your child, no matter what. Being pregnant is one of the most wonderful feelings ever . . . "
She turned around, cup of steaming tea in her hand, placing it down on the table.
"I know. I've been pregnant. Twice in fact."
She said it so nonchalant, as if she was talking about a patient, or a close friend, not about herself. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Abby? When? How? He would never have known.
"What happened?"
She sat down, stirring in a spoon of sugar into her dark cup.
"I couldn't go through with it."
A few simple words could change so many perspectives on a simple subject.
"I didn't know."
She looks up, nothing on her face, a blank stare.
"Neither did I."
He watched her play with her cup, the liquid still too hot to drink.
"With Richard?"
He watched her nod her head, it didn't seem to affect her in the slightest.
"The first time. He never knew. Neither of them knew."
He looked out around the room, the furniture, the paintings, the carpet, everything just the way he remembered it.
"Them?"
She nodded her head again, looking him straight in the eyes.
"You."
