Author's Notes: Please review cause Kat yells at me more if I don't post so if we get a few reviews maybe she'll lighten up on me... ;o)
~*~
I walk into the lounge, ready to grab a cup of coffee before I start working on my charts. I have a few to do, and I don't want to fall behind. It's been too long of a day so far. Way too many patients. What is up with the crazy patients and full moons? It's scary at times. I feel the door swing shut behind me and I balance my cup on top of my charts. I place them on the table and look up to see Carter clearing his locker. What the hell is he doing? Remodeling or something? I walk over to the coffee machine and pour myself a cup. It tastes like crap but I'm tired. I still have about an hour left and then Zach is taking me out somewhere. I don't know what he has planned. Either we're going to talk, or he's going to kill me and throw my body into lake Michigan. I'd prefer the latter at this time. He looks at me, I concentrate on stirring my sugar and cream into my cup. This isn't right. He's not right. I feel his eyes peel off me, and I walk towards the table and sit down. I hear him throwing things into a bag, ripping pictures off his locker door. I don't exactly know what's going on. I'm getting a feeling that this is only for the best. I take my first chart from the pile, a baby boy with an ear infection. He was discharged a few minutes ago. I picture is thrown onto my paper. I pick it up, the picture I had given back to him. He had kept it. I run my fingers over it, making the fingerprints even worse. I don't care. One way or another it's going to be ripped up and thrown away. It's just a painful reminder of what he had before and will never have again. I put it back down on the table, pushing it away from me. I look down at my papers, but my eyes follow him. I can't help it. I watch him clear out the reminders of his days here, of the friendships, of us. It's a slow process, even more so considering he's been here the longest. He's leaving. I can figure that much out for myself. It's a good thing, for both of us. Zach and I can get back to our normal lives, the way it used to be. Some things I will never forget, the bad things. I'm the complete opposite. I remember the bad times and forget the good times. It helps me dull the pain.
"You're leaving again, aren't you?"
He doesn't look at me, he keeps on clearing his locker.
"It's what you wanted. I only want to make you happy."
I look back down at the chart, I can't bring myself to face him any longer.
"When will you be back?"
He slams his locker door angrily, making me jump for a second.
"Never."
He walks out the door, I have a sudden urge to run after him and say something. Of course I don't know what that something would be but my mind could figure it out under pressure. But I don't go after him. I sit at the desk, staring at the picture in front of me. I'm no better than I was before. The ideal life I planned out for myself is a big lie. I'll never have a perfect life. Something will always be pulling me down. I take the picture, heading towards the trash. I can't keep doing this to myself. It took as much force to let it fall into the black bin as it had to push him away the first night I saw him. I feel the brush of air as the door swings open and Susan comes in. I trudge back towards my charts. She looks at me, and only gives me a sympathy glace. I don't need sympathy. I don't need her.
"You okay?"
I sit back down, I can't bring myself to concentrate on these charts with everyone coming in and out. I simply roll my eyes at her, and she leaves me alone as she places her coat and bag inside her locker. I finish the first chart, throwing it somewhat violently across the table.
"Why don't you go home?"
I push the charts together into a pile and give her a weak smile.
"Thanks."
I don't wait for her to change her mind. I grab my coat out of my locker along with my purse and head out the door even before she can say bye. I think I'm just going to take a walk. Zach isn't expecting me home for another hour anyway. My feet lead me on a course only they know. The weather is nice, I'm carrying my jacket. The last bits of the sun fade beyond the horizon, casting a darkened glow on the city. I know where I'm headed, I want to push myself away, but I can't. I'm afraid that I'm going to be fall deeper and deeper into this never ending circle, and I will never find a way out. I take the stairs slowly, noticing the cracks and indents in the cement as if this was my last time coming here. It probably is. There is nothing pulling me towards this place but comfort and peace. It also causes agony. You can't have love without the pain. It just doesn't happen, only in fairy tales. I make my way deeper towards "our bench". I don't know when it became ours, but the faded wood forever has our names etched in its deepest layers. I sit down, letting the breeze flutter my hair. I give up on trying to control it. I silently wished he would be here. We used to share a connection, we knew what the other was thinking, but I guess it disappeared. I don't know how I would react either. I want him out of my life for good. But if he leaves, a part of me goes with him. What am I saying? I'm a moron. I have the best thing in front of me right now, and I'm refusing to accept it and acknowledge it. Zach is everything I could ever ask for and more. He's problem-free, devoted, loving, caring. He's the ideal man. I just wish I could make myself happy with him, for him.
I hear footsteps behind me, my heart is racing. I don't know why I'm suddenly so worried. I turn around, a figure is walking in the dull light. He passes quickly, I need to stop lying to myself. I had wished it would be Carter. But it's not and never will be. He's gone with a new life in Africa. I have my new life here. Everything will unravel and work out with time. I pull out my pager and look at the time. I need to be getting home. Zach and I have a lot of talking to do. I put my jacket on, the wind finally getting to me. At least it's not below zero. I start towards the stairs, concentrating on my pager and the three messages I've received. I walk straight into someone, my eyes strain up to see who it is. My heart stops beating. He knew. We still have it, the connection, the attraction, the force. I drop my pager into my pocket, pushing my shaking hands into them as well. I'm not supposed to react this way. It's not fair.
I look away from him, avoiding his gaze. I want to get away from him. I need to get away from him. I start to head around him, but he stops me, standing in my way. I feel his hand reach up and push the hair out of my face. I move a few steps back from his reach, his hand still touching invisible strands. I look at him, I can't give him pity, empathy, or compassion. He deserves none. He moves closer to me, I can feel his warmth breath against my face. This is iniquitous. His arms pull me closer, my ravaged lips meet his, his tongue invading my mouth. As much as I want to leave, I want to stay. My mind is telling me one thing, my heart another. I need control. I know I've already lost it. My tongue battles a forbidden war with his. He gives up in defeat, holding on to the kiss a second longer. He pulls away, his saccharine taste laced upon my lips.
"Good-bye Abby."
He turns away, walking off towards the stairs. My fingers run over my lips, his touch like fire and ice. His silhouette starts the journey up the stairs. I'm rooted in my spot.
Mind over matter doesn't always work.
"Carter."
I see him stop in his tracks, debating whether its real or a fantasy. I'm still debating if any of this is real. He starts walking again.
"John..."
~*~
I walk into the lounge, ready to grab a cup of coffee before I start working on my charts. I have a few to do, and I don't want to fall behind. It's been too long of a day so far. Way too many patients. What is up with the crazy patients and full moons? It's scary at times. I feel the door swing shut behind me and I balance my cup on top of my charts. I place them on the table and look up to see Carter clearing his locker. What the hell is he doing? Remodeling or something? I walk over to the coffee machine and pour myself a cup. It tastes like crap but I'm tired. I still have about an hour left and then Zach is taking me out somewhere. I don't know what he has planned. Either we're going to talk, or he's going to kill me and throw my body into lake Michigan. I'd prefer the latter at this time. He looks at me, I concentrate on stirring my sugar and cream into my cup. This isn't right. He's not right. I feel his eyes peel off me, and I walk towards the table and sit down. I hear him throwing things into a bag, ripping pictures off his locker door. I don't exactly know what's going on. I'm getting a feeling that this is only for the best. I take my first chart from the pile, a baby boy with an ear infection. He was discharged a few minutes ago. I picture is thrown onto my paper. I pick it up, the picture I had given back to him. He had kept it. I run my fingers over it, making the fingerprints even worse. I don't care. One way or another it's going to be ripped up and thrown away. It's just a painful reminder of what he had before and will never have again. I put it back down on the table, pushing it away from me. I look down at my papers, but my eyes follow him. I can't help it. I watch him clear out the reminders of his days here, of the friendships, of us. It's a slow process, even more so considering he's been here the longest. He's leaving. I can figure that much out for myself. It's a good thing, for both of us. Zach and I can get back to our normal lives, the way it used to be. Some things I will never forget, the bad things. I'm the complete opposite. I remember the bad times and forget the good times. It helps me dull the pain.
"You're leaving again, aren't you?"
He doesn't look at me, he keeps on clearing his locker.
"It's what you wanted. I only want to make you happy."
I look back down at the chart, I can't bring myself to face him any longer.
"When will you be back?"
He slams his locker door angrily, making me jump for a second.
"Never."
He walks out the door, I have a sudden urge to run after him and say something. Of course I don't know what that something would be but my mind could figure it out under pressure. But I don't go after him. I sit at the desk, staring at the picture in front of me. I'm no better than I was before. The ideal life I planned out for myself is a big lie. I'll never have a perfect life. Something will always be pulling me down. I take the picture, heading towards the trash. I can't keep doing this to myself. It took as much force to let it fall into the black bin as it had to push him away the first night I saw him. I feel the brush of air as the door swings open and Susan comes in. I trudge back towards my charts. She looks at me, and only gives me a sympathy glace. I don't need sympathy. I don't need her.
"You okay?"
I sit back down, I can't bring myself to concentrate on these charts with everyone coming in and out. I simply roll my eyes at her, and she leaves me alone as she places her coat and bag inside her locker. I finish the first chart, throwing it somewhat violently across the table.
"Why don't you go home?"
I push the charts together into a pile and give her a weak smile.
"Thanks."
I don't wait for her to change her mind. I grab my coat out of my locker along with my purse and head out the door even before she can say bye. I think I'm just going to take a walk. Zach isn't expecting me home for another hour anyway. My feet lead me on a course only they know. The weather is nice, I'm carrying my jacket. The last bits of the sun fade beyond the horizon, casting a darkened glow on the city. I know where I'm headed, I want to push myself away, but I can't. I'm afraid that I'm going to be fall deeper and deeper into this never ending circle, and I will never find a way out. I take the stairs slowly, noticing the cracks and indents in the cement as if this was my last time coming here. It probably is. There is nothing pulling me towards this place but comfort and peace. It also causes agony. You can't have love without the pain. It just doesn't happen, only in fairy tales. I make my way deeper towards "our bench". I don't know when it became ours, but the faded wood forever has our names etched in its deepest layers. I sit down, letting the breeze flutter my hair. I give up on trying to control it. I silently wished he would be here. We used to share a connection, we knew what the other was thinking, but I guess it disappeared. I don't know how I would react either. I want him out of my life for good. But if he leaves, a part of me goes with him. What am I saying? I'm a moron. I have the best thing in front of me right now, and I'm refusing to accept it and acknowledge it. Zach is everything I could ever ask for and more. He's problem-free, devoted, loving, caring. He's the ideal man. I just wish I could make myself happy with him, for him.
I hear footsteps behind me, my heart is racing. I don't know why I'm suddenly so worried. I turn around, a figure is walking in the dull light. He passes quickly, I need to stop lying to myself. I had wished it would be Carter. But it's not and never will be. He's gone with a new life in Africa. I have my new life here. Everything will unravel and work out with time. I pull out my pager and look at the time. I need to be getting home. Zach and I have a lot of talking to do. I put my jacket on, the wind finally getting to me. At least it's not below zero. I start towards the stairs, concentrating on my pager and the three messages I've received. I walk straight into someone, my eyes strain up to see who it is. My heart stops beating. He knew. We still have it, the connection, the attraction, the force. I drop my pager into my pocket, pushing my shaking hands into them as well. I'm not supposed to react this way. It's not fair.
I look away from him, avoiding his gaze. I want to get away from him. I need to get away from him. I start to head around him, but he stops me, standing in my way. I feel his hand reach up and push the hair out of my face. I move a few steps back from his reach, his hand still touching invisible strands. I look at him, I can't give him pity, empathy, or compassion. He deserves none. He moves closer to me, I can feel his warmth breath against my face. This is iniquitous. His arms pull me closer, my ravaged lips meet his, his tongue invading my mouth. As much as I want to leave, I want to stay. My mind is telling me one thing, my heart another. I need control. I know I've already lost it. My tongue battles a forbidden war with his. He gives up in defeat, holding on to the kiss a second longer. He pulls away, his saccharine taste laced upon my lips.
"Good-bye Abby."
He turns away, walking off towards the stairs. My fingers run over my lips, his touch like fire and ice. His silhouette starts the journey up the stairs. I'm rooted in my spot.
Mind over matter doesn't always work.
"Carter."
I see him stop in his tracks, debating whether its real or a fantasy. I'm still debating if any of this is real. He starts walking again.
"John..."