DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me. If they did, Eric would not have gotten sick, Carter would not have gone to Africa, and there would be Carby babies all over the ER by now.
CATEGORY: Carby Angst RATING: PG-13SPOILERS: None if you've seen all of Season 10 so far.
SUMMARY: Carter, Abby and the roller coaster of angst, drama and romance that is their relationship
Chapter Four
"Carter."
"Carter!"
"CARTER!"
Carter quickly turns his head in the direction of the voice that has abruptly awoken him from his haze. He is greeted by the sight of an angry looking Dr. Weaver, who is waving a chart violently in the air.
"Do plan on seeing any patients today? Because Mrs. Melvin has been waiting for a doctor for 3 hours. I hate to disrupt you from your game of minesweeper, but either pick up some patients or go home!"
Carter grabs the chart from Dr. Weaver and heads toward the exam room. It's true; he has been slacking at work. Ever since Kem and Alexander left a few weeks ago, he has had trouble focusing on anything. Everyone at the hospital has been giving him some space, but he is guessing that his inability to concentrate is beginning to cause frustration among his co-workers. He isn't sure how much they know. Susan was the only one he told, but he's guessing that even if they don't know the entire story, Susan at least told them to back off for a while. He knows he needs to snap out of it; he's just not sure how.
~
After few hours later Carter has finally reached the end of his shift. He opens his locker and replaces his lab coat for his jacket when Susan walks in.
"You off?"
Susan rolls her eyes. "I wish. I've got four more hours in this hellhole. Is it just me, or are the patients getting dumber?"
"I haven't noticed," Carter laughs, "Why?"
"I have a sixteen year old boy with whiplash who crashed his mother's car into the garage door because he forgot to open it when he was backing out, a man who decided to climb a tree after drinking a 12-pack and broke his leg, and a girl who burned her face when she tried to straighten her hair with an iron."
"Well I think you have your answer right there. At least you're halfway done with your shift."
Susan plops down on the couch, exhausted. "I should be done now. Kerri asked me to cover the next four hours."
"Ouch."
"Yeah, and I feel bad 'cause I was going to go over to Abby's. She's got the flu and I told her I'd bring her some Tylenol to help bring her fever down."
Carter perks up at the sound of Abby's name. "Is she okay?"
"No Carter, she has the flu. Have you ever had the flu? It sucks."
"I could go for you."
"Um, I don't think that would be such a good idea."
"Why not?"
Susan gives Carter a look that says he knows exactly why that would not be a good idea.
"Oh come on. We broke up a year ago. We're still friends."
Susan looks very skeptical but says, "Fine." She gets up and retrieves the medicine from her locker. "Let me give you her key too." Susan chuckles as she removes it from her key chain. "She locked herself out of her apartment last month and spent three hours trying to track down her landlord. I've never seen her so pissed. She gave me this in case it happened again, so don't lose it!" Carter uncomfortably accepts the key that at one time was a permanent fixture on his key chain. "Call me and let me know how she's feeling."
Carter nods in reply. He says goodbye to Susan and takes the familiar route to Abby's apartment.
~
Carter walks up the front steps of Abby's building and approaches the front door. It has been a year since he has been here. He inserts the key in the lock and is instantly brought back to a time when he performed this action daily. He and Abby had never officially moved in together, but around the second month of their relationship she had casually given him the key to her apartment and Carter had casually begun to bring his things over. It started out with basic toiletries: a razor, his cologne and some shampoo. Eventually he moved onto the entire contents of his closet. Abby cleared out some drawers and closet space, never drawing attention to the fact that his possessions were becoming intertwined with her own. One day he called her from the hospital, and when she didn't answer he realized that she had added his name to the answering machine. Soon after that he had his mail forwarded to her address. All of this had happened with neither of them mentioning the significance of it all. He knew they were both too scared to make any sort of formal commitment. He now wishes that they would have talked about it; perhaps if they had been more open they wouldn't have fallen apart so quickly.
He reaches the door to her apartment and hesitates. He doesn't want to wake her if she is sleeping, but he does not feel comfortable walking into her home unannounced. He stands for a moment, weighing his options, when he hears a violent cough coming from the other side of the door. He realizes she must be awake so he knocks. The cough becomes louder as Abby approaches the door, and Carter finds his nerves rapidly building. He hears the rattle of the chain and the click of the lock being released. The door opens and he takes in the sight of a very surprised looking Abby.
"Carter. What are you doing… How did you get in?" The look on her face quickly changes from surprise to embarrassment as she tries in vain to smooth down her disheveled hair and tightens the flannel bathrobe that is wrapped around her.
"Susan had to work, so I offered to come bring you some Tylenol. Oh, and I brought you some chicken noodle soup too."
Abby steps aside and motions for him to come in. Carter looks around and realizes how much he missed this place. It is a small apartment, but it was the perfect size for the two of them. Abby walks over to the sofa and sits down, covering herself with a worn afghan. She picks up a mug and takes a small sip of tea. This elicits another coughing attack and Carter quickly walks over to where she is sitting. As he sits down next to her, his body immediately recognizes the familiarity of the sofa, and his mind is flooded with memories of the times they spent on this sofa eating take-out, watching movies, falling asleep or simply hanging out, enjoying each other's company.
Abby gives one last cough and then collapses into the cushions. "I feel like shit."
He looks at her and does not doubt her for a second. Her hair is wild and her skin is pale. The underside of her nose is red from the constant wiping of tissues. Dark circle outline her eyes. She looks exhausted.
"Here, take two of these. Do you still have a fever?"
Abby nods her head as she swallows the pills, washing them down with her tea. Without thinking, Carter reaches over and places the palm of his hand on her forehead. She is burning up. He leaves his hand there a moment longer than he needs to, and he knows that she truly must not be feeling well because she does not object. Instead, she simply looks at him, and he can tell that she is thankful he is here.
"Are you hungry? I could heat up the soup for you," Carter offers as he reluctantly removes his hand.
She surprises him when she reaches for his hand. Her tired eyes look into his own. Her voice is raspy when she speaks. "Will you stay for awhile? I feel like a big baby, but…"
"I'll stay." Carter says immediately, cutting her off. She gives him a weak smile before another coughing fit erupts from her body. Carter rubs her back gently until her coughs subside. "Why don't I heat up that soup."
"Okay, I'm gonna go freshen up." She shakily stands up and supports herself for a moment on the back of the couch. The fever is making her dizzy, and he begins to worry.
"If your fever doesn't go down in a few hours I'm taking you to County."
She half-heartedly rolls her eyes in response and slowly walks towards the bedroom with the afghan still wrapped around her tiny frame. When he hears the door shut he goes to the kitchen to prepare the soup. He has no trouble finding a pot, everything is just as it was when he lived here. He sits down at the table and waits for Abby to come back.
**************************
As soon as the bedroom door shuts, Abby collapses on the bed. She begins to plot ways to get back at Susan for sending Carter here. Maybe she'll let it slip to Weaver that last week when Susan called in sick Chuck just happened to have the day off as well. Frank owed her, maybe she could have him steer some impacted bowels Susan's ways. But truthfully, she is thankful that Carter is here. She feels awful, and as soon as she opened the door and saw him standing there she wanted to curl up against his chest and feel his arms wrap around her body. She is too tired to put up her defenses, and all she wants right now is for someone to take care of her. She lays her head down on the pillow for a moment and realizes that is not entirely true. She does want someone to take care of her, but she wants that someone to be Carter.
~
Abby opens her eyes and realizes that she must have fallen asleep. As she slowly sits up she notices that her fever must have broke because she feels a hundred times better. She opens the bedroom door and walks out to the kitchen to see if Carter is still there. He is not, and she turns around, disappointed. She walks towards the bedroom when the sound of a small snore comes from the living room. She sees two feet hanging off the end of the sofa. She walks towards them and can't help but smile when she sees Carter, lying on his back, sleeping soundly. One hand is resting on his stomach and the other is stretched out over his head. She reflects on all the times she came home from work to find him in that position, and a wave of loneliness washes over her heart. His face looks incredibly peaceful and she thinks to herself that she has not seen him look that way in quite a long time. She has become very worried about him in the last few months. When he returned from Africa with Kem he had not seemed himself. She had wanted to be there for him as a friend, but when he kissed her at Susan's house she knew that friendship would not be possible for a while. When Susan told her that Alexander was not really Carter's baby and Kem went back to Africa, she had so desperately wanted to talk to him about it; she knew he was hurtling badly. But instead she continued her original plan of avoidance because she knew she needed to maintain her commitment to the acceptance that their relationship was truly over. But now, here he is, sleeping on her sofa, and all of the promises she made to herself are becoming more and more difficult to keep. She decides to allow him to sleep a little bit longer and goes to the bathroom to take a shower.
~
When she emerges from the bathroom she sees that Carter is awake and is heating up the soup for the second time that day. "Hey, you're up. How are you feeling?"
Abby smiles as she sits down at the kitchen table. "A lot better. I think my fever's gone."
Carter brings two bowls of soup to the table and sits down. Abby notices that he does not feel her forehead this time. She silently scolds herself for feeling disappointed.
"Thanks for staying. How long was I asleep?"
"A couple hours. How's the soup?"
"Perfect."
They sit in silence for a moment, quietly sipping their soup. Abby's mind begins to wander and she wonders why chicken noodle soup is the preferred soup when you are sick. Why not vegetable soup or tomato soup? What about cream of mushroom and beef stew? Split pea and barley? She tries to think of other soups, picturing them neatly lined up on the shelf at the grocery store when she notices Carter staring at her.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Soup."
"Soup?"
"Yeah, why is chicken noodle soup the only soup you have when you're sick? There's lots of good soups out there; I think they're getting the shaft."
"You don't like chicken noodle soup?" Carter looks down at his spoon, disappointed.
"No, its just fine. You just asked me what I was thinking about and I was thinking about soup."
Carter gives her a questioning look, but doesn't pursue the conversation further. The eat in silence a bit longer until Carter suddenly blurts out, "I was thinking about Alexander."
Abby's head jerks up. She is not sure how to respond.
"He's not mine you know."
Abby nods her head. "Susan told me."
Carter rubs the back of his neck and looks up at the ceiling. "I thought he was the answer to everything. I thought…well…I thought as long as I had him I'd never be alone in this world again."
"That's putting a lot of pressure on a little baby."
"What do you mean?"
Abby puts her spoon down and rests against the back of the chair. "You're asking one person, a child no less, to be responsible for your happiness. That's a lot to ask."
"What, I shouldn't have been happy to have a son?" Carter gets up from the table and carries his bowl to the sink. Abby can see his body tense up, but she decides to continue anyways.
"No, I just think you shouldn't depend on one thing to make you happy. Something like a child should only add to the happiness you already feel."
Carter scoffs at her response. "You're lecturing me on finding the happiness within your self?"
Abby stands and joins him at the sink. "I was unhappy for a long time. I let my unhappiness swallow me up and dominate every aspect of my life." She pauses, looking him in the eye. "You know that better than anyone. I just don't want the same thing to happen to you."
Tears fill his eyes as he takes a step closer to her. He can smell the scent of her shampoo from her freshly washed hair. He finds it comforting. His voice comes out as a whisper. "You don't seem unhappy anymore."
She takes his hand in her own and gives it a gentle squeeze. "It took losing the best thing in my life to make me realize I needed to make some changes." She takes a hold of his other hand and turns his body so that is facing hers. "It will get better. I promise."
He nods his head, and by the look on his face she can tell that he believes her. Then the look changes and she suddenly becomes aware of how close they are. The spontaneous act of holding his hands causes her stomach to fill with butterflies as she concentrates on the feel of his skin touching her own. The room is beginning to spin, but this time it is not because of her fever. She sees Carter's head slowly leaning down towards hers and she knows what is about to happen. She wants to kiss him so badly. His hand slowly moves to her back and he pulls her even closer. She is about to let the last of her defenses down when she looks into his eyes. What she sees makes her stop.
What she sees is sadness.
And she knows that kissing him will not make either of their problems better, but will in fact make everything much worse. She is in the middle of her journey of self-healing, while Carter has not yet even begun. As much as it pains her, she knows that this is a journey they both must make separately, even if it means they will never be together again. So instead of tilting her head upwards to meet his descending lips, she pulls away and walks to the other side of the kitchen, knowing she needs to create as much physical distance between the two of them as possible in order to maintain her willpower.
"We can't do this John. Please."
He nods his head, a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment on his face. He picks up his coat and walks towards the door. "Thanks for listening," he says seriously.
She dismisses his gratitude with a slight wave of her hand and says, "That's what friends are for."
He solemnly shakes his head in reply. "No, I mean it."
She stands there, silently remembering another time when similar words were spoken only with the roles reversed. He walks out the door, carefully closing it behind him. She sits down on the sofa, once again exhausted. She looks around, pondering what had just transpired when she comes to a realization that causes a tear to enter her eye.
The apartment suddenly feels incredibly empty.
*****************************************************************************
Author's Note: Whew! I think that was my longest chapter ever!
Thanks for all the reviews! I wasn't feeling too confident, so I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. And thanks for the medical info; genetics are interesting but definitely complicated!
Please review!