I'm trying something a little different with this fic. For one, it's much more angsty than my previous writing. Secondly, it's hopefully the start of a bigger work, the other parts will come sporadically (med school take up most of my time!) but I'll try not to make the gaps between posting too wide. It's set during/after "Sailing Away" (yup, I'm kicking it back OldSchool)- I've altered the ending of the episode slightly but otherwise all events that transpired up to that point are the same.

Disclaimer: If I owned Carter and Abby, they'd be having a much nicer time in season ten, believe me.

Spoilers: Even the Martians have gotten season seven by now, surely?

Thanks to: Two of my most favouritest Carbies ever- Noodles for the title and for many plot ideas and Gooders for similar embellishments. Sarah McLachlan for the song lyrics ("Hold On" from her album "Fumbling Towards Ecstasy" for those who like to know that sort of thing). To Philip Pullman for a titchy bit of inspiration (Go read "His Dark Materials" it's way better than this!) Finally, a huge thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review my previous work. You are all far too kind but I appreciate it very much.

Losing Grip

"So now you're sleeping peaceful

I lie awake and pray

That you'll be strong tomorrow

And we'll see another day"

So here we are. The next chapter of the nightmare. The room is cold, clinical, the kind of room I'm more than accustomed to. The kind of room I've come to know intimately as my career has progressed. The machines click methodically, ringing off the too-white walls.

It's amazing how such a familiar setting can take on a unnerving, almost frightening feel at the flick of a switch. The tables have turned. It's not just another patient now, it's my mother lying before me, eyes closed to the world of the living. And all I can do is pray, pray to a God I never quite believed in, that her sleep isn't eternal.

I clasp her hand between my own and stare at her face through bloodshot eyes. I always knew it could come down to this. I guess I just never quite believed it. Her face is ashen grey and her fingers cold against my own. The same slim hands that once lifted me up to shower me in kisses.

"Maggie?" I croak pitifully.

A tear trickles down my cheek. I ignore it and continue my vigil.

I pull the sheets up closer about her neck, smoothing the cotton down with my fingertips. I'd always loved the days Maggie would think to tuck me up in bed.

"Maggie?" I try again.

But the being before me lays lifeless. I bring my hand up to stroke her cheek.

"Mom?" My voice cracks.

But my breakdown is interrupted by the door opening behind me.

Sharply, I shift my gaze.

Carter is standing in front of me brandishing coffee.

I crinkle my nose at the smell but shake my head at the offer. Caffeine won't fix this problem.

"How's she doing?" he asks tentatively.

Sniffing and blinking back tears rapidly I reply, "Stupid question Carter."

He nods in agreement. There's a pause, then, "How are you holding up?"

I bite my lip. What could I say? My mother's lying by me, as close to death as I see people get. So I merely shrug my shoulders.

He looks at me concerned but remains taciturn.

"I thought I was watching her every second," I add.

He meets my eyes, compassion on his face. 'That's not possible, you know that."

I sigh and look back to the motionless figure beside me.

"Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Abby, you haven't eaten since that gas station and you've been sitting here for hours."

I don't respond. The last thing I need right now is him mothering me. I have a mother, she's lying in front of me…

I sniffle again and press my lips together.

"Okay, well I'm gonna run over to Doc Magoos, I won't be long."

He waits for a response, so I nod my head briefly, never taking my eyes from my mother and then he's gone. And I know he didn't leave because he was famished. He simply wanted to give me some breathing room. He's one of the most considerate men I've ever met.

A few more minutes pass. Nothing changes and the gentle whoosh of the respirator is threatening to lull me to sleep. I lean over and kiss Maggie's forehead before standing up stiffly.

After speaking with the RN on duty I head downstairs, purposefully avoiding the ER. The night air has turned chilly and I wrap the thin sweater more tightly around me.

I walk over to the diner, intending to tell Carter I'm leaving. As I approach I spot him through the window and stop in my tracks. He's conversing with Rena. Apparently they've made up; at least some good has come of tonight. I know I'd feel awkward intruding and so I turn around and head for the el.

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I've barely been home five minutes when the phone rings. I instinctively ignore it, whoever it is, whatever it is can wait. But as I listen to the infernal ringing a panic starts to take a hold. What if they're calling about Maggie? And then I'm too petrified to move.

The machine cuts in.

"Abby?"

I breathe a sigh of relief. It's only Luka.

"I… I thought you might be at home. Carter was looking for you." There's a pause. "Call me if you need me. Bye."

A soft click ends the call. There was a hint of something in his voice on the word 'Carter', could it have been contempt? I know he wasn't overly happy about him going to Oklahoma with me. But I don't have time to think about Luka right now.

Needing to occupy myself I pad over to the refrigerator. I'm still not remotely hungry, but at least preparing some food will kill a bit of time. I deliberate over cooking a burger but decide against it, after all I already turned down Doc Magoos style of food once tonight. I wonder if Carter's still there, seated in the booth across from the troublesome teen.

I'm about half way through fixing myself some scrambled eggs when there's a knock at the door. I turn off the stove and take the pan off the heat before walking across and undoing the latch.

And Carter's standing in front of me.

He's visibly relieved to see me.

"Hey," he begins. "You left, I was worried. I tried the river and the ER, Luka said he hadn't seen you."

I move aside to allow him in. "I just needed to get out of there," I answer.

"Okay," he responds softly.

I amble back to the sofa and drop down onto it. The little toy from Maggie's twinkie packet stares at me. I pick it up and twist it around in my hands. It's a pink plastic ring, with a purple 'gem stone' set in it. Carter notices my anxious behaviour and delicately places his own hand over mine, steadying me. I look down at this simple gesture and everything becomes too much. My bottom lip begins to tremble violently and before I know it I'm emitting choking sobs, my entire body quivering.

Carter's arms are around me in a heart beat, his fingers making light circular motions across my back, soothing me to the best of his ability. His shirt is soaked through in seconds and my fingers are clawing at his shoulders. Yet he doesn't flinch, just mutters soft sentiments into my ear and kisses my hair tenderly.

"Shh… she's gonna be okay," he whispers, "you're gonna be okay."

But I cry on as he cradles me to his chest.

That's where you're wrong Carter. She'll never be okay.