Carter sighed, leaning back against the hospital wall listlessly, arms folded, the sole of one foot flat against the wall. It was late spring, and the air was unnaturally still, the sky a clear and startling blue.

Mostly, he stuck to the lounge on his breaks these days. Sometimes he went down the road for a coffee, but not today. He couldn't quite summon the energy to get to the coffee shop he'd been going to since Doc Magoo's burned down. He didn't know why, exactly. His shift had been fairly uneventful so far. He had an unfamiliar craving for a cigarette.

The ER felt empty, despite the seemingly endless stream of patients passing through, patients with cuts and bruises, the odd fracture, someone with breathing problems. He treated and streeted efficiently, the pace monotonous, boring, but in a way strangely satisfying. He dispatched patients, secure in the knowledge that he was unlikely ever to see them again, filling out their paperwork, sending them home to their own lives, their own jobs, their own families.

There was no-one he knew working. Kerry was around, somewhere, and some new doctor who'd started while he was in africa, but that was it. Susan was off, Chen was still in China, Luka had taken some time off, and Abby— well he hadn't seen Abby in a while. Until now.

He watched as she approached, her slight figure making its way purposefully towards the entrance, as yet unaware of his presence.

He saw the surprise register on her face. The automatic doors had already opened for her. She took a step back, caught off guard.

"Carter. Hey", smiling cautiously.

"Hey". There was an awkward pause as he cast around for something to say. Finally, "It's been a while, huh?"

"I started my OR rotation." Oh, right. So maybe she hadn't just been avoiding him after all. Or maybe that was just an excuse. Things weren't exactly very comfortable between them right now. But she'd moved on. She had her whole med-student thing now.

Carter unfolded his arms, standing up, but, slightly unsure of what to do with the hands dangling awkwardly at his side, he quickly crossed them again.

"How's it going?"

"Good, thanks."

Great. She was being really helpful. She could at least try for more than two words at a time. Something to fill the silences which seemed to be threatening to end their conversation before it had even started. Well, this time it was her turn to fill it.

"So how've you been?"

"Yeah, I'm ok." Ha. Zero marks for originality. To the both of them. He waited, again.

What had they talked about before? Before all the events of the past year had planted this seemingly insurmountable barrier between them? When had they got to this stage, where each watched the other squirm uncomfortably while both tried desperately to come up with something to say? When had their conversation, if you could even call it that, become so monosyllabic, so forced?

"You miss her?" Ok. Now that was unexpected. Original. And it answered at least one of his questions.

"Kem?" He checked. She nodded her head in assent, her eyes quickly flickering up to his face before she returned to her careful examination of the tarmac beneath her feet. He followed her gaze as he considered her question. Did she want an honest answer? Or was this just an attempt to put an end to the unwelcome silence which had been swelling between them?

He answered hesitantly, bringing his eyes back up to her face, "I...I don't know..."

Her brown eyes jerked up quickly, and he saw her internally berating herself for letting her emotions show so obviously. She made a quick recovery from her momentary lapse in guardedness, but it had happened, and they stared at each other, each knowing what had happened, each knowing that the other knew, and each knowing that neither one of them was going to acknowledge this brief instant of honesty.

He saw her uncertainty, her brave attempt to continue, to move the conversation on to something more practical, something safer.

"When is she getting back?"

Taking a deep breath, he prepared to relieve himself of his...well, his secret, really. He hadn't intended it to be like that. There had just never seemed to be an appropriate moment to tell anyone. He couldn't exactly just drop it in to conversation casually. 'Susan, could you keep an eye on the patient in four for me? Oh and by the way, I'm not going to be a father anymore, and Kem's staying in Africa.' No. it wouldn't work. And he would've told Abby over a coffee, but he'd barely seen her. And things were difficult between them. And, well...she was busy. But now she was standing in front of him, asking, awaiting his answer...

He exhaled.

"She's not", he said, carefully scrutinising her face for any sign of a reaction. Her eyes shifted swiftly over to the side and back to his face, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she looked up at him in disbelief, initially not sure that she'd got it right, now certain that she'd misunderstood.

"Not what?"

"Getting back." "Like...for a few months or something?" Serious now, her gaze roved over his face, from one eye to the other, and back again, as if the answer that she couldn't find in one might somehow be obvious in the other.

It was time to explain. "No, she decided to stay in Africa, with Peter." Another look of incomprehension. "That's her ex", he persisted. "Well, not ex anymore, I guess." No reaction. "I wanted to tell you, but things were kinda weird..." He trailed off, watching as she blinked and shook her head impatiently, the beginnings of a confused frown ruffling her features.

"What about the baby?"

"She's keeping it." He should probably tell her now. He hesitated. "It's...it's Peter's child." It was out.

A pause. He waited.

"Did you know?", slowly, earnestly. She didn't seem to be as surprised as he had thought she would be.

He answered her, truthfully, slowly, "I guess I did, really. I mean, nothing was ever said, but it was kinda...obvious...I mean, with the due dates and everything...I guess you could say I was in denial"

"And you're ok with it?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, I know I shouldn't be, but... I thought...I wanted to love her, convinced myself that I did...could love her. But in the end, when she called, it came as a bit of a relief. I got the impression that she felt the same way. To be honest with you, it's not really Kem I'm missing. I think it was more the idea, the baby and everything...I don't know..." he listened as the sound of his voice petered out, lamely. Why the hell was he telling her this? Obviously the best person to try to explain this to is your ex-girlfriend, who's almost as emotionally involved in this as you are. Especially when you haven't even tried to explain it to yourself yet. Have avoided thinking about it altogether, if you're honest.

He felt like he'd been living in an alternate universe for the last few months. Having almost succeeded in convincing himself that none of it had ever happened, it felt weird to be standing outside the ER discussing it with Abby. She'd always been at the back of his mind, even while he was living out what he had thought at the time had been a fantasy, but which had turned out to be real, and not particularly fantastic.

Looking back on it, it seemed that, even at times of apparent happiness, something sinister had been clawing almost imperceptibly at the fraying edges of those Kodak moments. Even in his surreal world of glaring sunshine, there had been a rain cloud looming on the horizon, but before he could even begin to work out what it was or why it was there, the claustrophobic dreamland which had had him so enmeshed had dissolved, nipped in the bud, or, as he preferred to think of it, reality had bitten it in the ass. And he felt unnervingly free.

He missed her, now, almost a year later, even more than when they'd broken up. She was the one who ensured that he went about his daily routine absently, confused, his mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions. His head crowded with what he should be feeling, of what he wasn't sure that he was feeling, and of what he should or could be doing about those feelings. That was before he resigned himself to his helpless state, and cleared his head of anything of consequence, as he had done this morning. But now, Abby had triggered the resurgence of his disordered emotions.

This was the Abby he knew now he missed far more than he would ever miss Kem. The Abby he'd hurt, who had hurt him. The Abby whose anxious reflection looked back at herself from his eyes. And yet for all the distance between them she might as well be in the congo.

He smiled ruefully, "Everything seems different with hindsight, huh?"

"I guess", she said, her face finally breaking into a smile. A sharp ray of sunlight glanced surprisingly off a stray strand of her dark hair. He shivered, although it wasn't cold, irrationally worried that he'd somehow tarnished her with something sinister from his memories, from his imagination. He looked up, and saw an ominously dark looking cloud above them, the sunlight retreating rapidly, the stark shadow of the hospital melting into the darkness, and he laughed in relief.

She followed his eyes. "It's going to rain. You wanna grab a coffee?"

"I should be getting back", he said, gesturing towards the doors with his chin, and they were both suddenly aware of the people thronging around them, the constant opening and closing of doors, a scream somewhere, the hubbub of voices.

Abby looked down at her watch. "Shit, I'm late."

She smiled up at him. "Time flies, huh?"

"Yeah. Yeah it does", when you're having fun, he added in his head. He smiled as he followed her into the ER, the doors closing behind them.

AUTHORS NOTE: Some Suby & Carsan (purely platonic, I promise!) coming up, if I receive even the tiniest itsiest piece of encouragement.

It's my first fic, so please don't slate it too much – constructive criticism v welcome, & please review! Let me know if you thought the ending was a bit lame, because it seemed that way to me.