AN: I'm afraid this chapter isn't particularly inspired (and is possibly even particularly uninspired). Mostly because I wouldn't let myself leave my computer until I'd written at least half of it, and in the end I had to start writing because I really needed to pee. And then I finished it because my mum sent me to my room to pack for uni. Guess I'm gonna be late.

And sorry for changing tenses halfway through the last chapter. I can't believe I didn't notice it, but it won't happen again, Brownies' honour.

DISCLAIMER: well, I just got off the phone to Wells, and he said that he'll think about allowing me to have Carter and Abby when he's done screwing them over. I'm just hoping that that means at the end of season twelve.

SUMMARY: ummm...it's the evening after the night before?

o-o-o-o-o.o-o-o-o-o

He found the note with some aspirin in the morning. Afternoon, actually.

'I had to go to work. Call me if you need anything. I'll come by later. Look after yourself, love Abby'

So she'd been here last night.

He turned over and went back to sleep.

o-o-o-o-o.o-o-o-o-o

He watched as the door opened quietly. It wasn't like he hadn't had any warning. She'd knocked; he'd ignored her.

"You should get up."

"What's the point?"

"Carter, don't."

She was standing leaning against the back of the chair by his bed, the same chair she'd held last night's vigil in. She looked at him reproachfully.

"I'm sorry, I guess having a dead son, brother, grandmother, absent girlfriend, drug addiction, and insomnia doesn't give me the right to a little self pity." He was being petty, and knew it.

"No, it doesn't. You need to sort yourself out. You're not even trying."

"I tried. I can't do it."

"Yes you can. If I can, you can."

"People don't keep dying on you."

"Carter, this isn't a competition. Stop making excuses for yourself. I know it must be really hard, but you've been worse than this, and you've pulled through before. And I know how it goes. You can't sleep, and you can't stop thinking about it, until you come round to thinking that maybe you'll just have a little bit, and it won't really matter. It'll just be this once. But then you still can't sleep, still can't stop thinking about it, and you've just screwed up anyway so you might as well have some more, just so you can sleep. And when you still can't sleep you might as well finish the bottle, otherwise it'll just be left out to tempt you the next day. And then the next day, you've already had one off day, so surely one more won't make that much difference. And you try to persuade yourself that it doesn't really matter, that it's not affecting anyone else. But you always know."

"You been preparing that all day?"

"Only since my lunch-break."

"Well, it's almost right. But you missed out the bit about the nightmares. And the liver damage."

"You've been having nightmares?"

"Abby, I'm sorry about last night. For getting myself...for being such a wreck. I'm sorry for wasting your evening."

"It's not like I had anything better to do."

"You're in the middle of your internship–"

"–exactly. Which means that helping out a friend counts as a justified break."

"And missing out on some well-deserved sleep."

"I wouldn't have been able to sleep knowing you were how you were anyway," she said, quietly.

He broke the silence which followed.

"They miss me at work?" he asked, smiling.

"Of course. And some woman came in looking for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. She had an ingrowing toenail, said you'd treated her last time. A Mrs Branagan, I think."

"Doesn't sound like I'm missing much."

"Luka kept on asking after you."

"I know. He called earlier."

"Yeah?"

"He's not good with answerphone messages."

"You didn't answer?"

"I had a headache...a hangover," he corrected himself.

"I didn't mean to, Abby....I mean, with the drinking...I couldn't sleep."

"You been to any meetings recently?"

"Not since— since the one I went to after gamma's funeral."

"I've been going to that new place in Clark Street. It's pretty good. There's a meeting at eight."

"We'll be late."

"They won't mind."

"Guess that means I have to get up then."

"Guess it does. I'll go make some coffee."

o-o-o-o-o.o-o-o-o-o

Carter had been vaguely surprised by the number of people who greeted Abby at the meeting. It hadn't seemed very anonymous.

He took both their coats and hung them together on the end of the banister. By the time he returned to the kitchen Abby was making the coffee.

"How long have you been going there?" he asked, sitting down and watching as she pulled two mugs from the cupboard above her.

"A month or so."

"They seem very..." he paused, hunting for the right word, "friendly," he finished.

"They are."

She took the milk from the fridge and a teaspoon from the draw. He stared hard at the table.

"Abby, I really did try, you know? For a while anyway. It's just– just the nightmares I can't take."

She poured the coffee and brought it to the table. She handed him his mug. Her hands were cold.

"Always with babies, babies that I can't reach, that I can't save. Mostly at County. And there's this one...one that I keep on having. And in it I kill him. I drop him. And every time, I know I'm going to do it, and every time I do it again. And there's concrete, and it...it's horrible."

He met her eyes as he finished. She didn't seem surprised.

"You know it's not your fault, right? It could have happened to anyone," she said, softly, knowing he'd been told this before, by others, confident in the futility of her offering.

"I know. I just can't help thinking that maybe if we'd been a bit more careful...if she hadn't taken those flights, hadn't done so much work....I know it wasn't anyone's fault, but sometimes...sometimes I just need a reason."

Her hand reached across the table and squeezed his. It wasn't as cold as last time, had been warmed by her coffee. She left it there, on his.

"And everywhere I look there are reminders. The worst are the kids. I swear there weren't this many kids before."

"Maybe you should take a proper break, get away from all this for a while." She didn't want him to go, hated worrying about him when she could see him, wasn't sure how she would cope with worrying about him when she couldn't see him.

"And go where? Africa?"

"What about your dad?" she asked, reluctantly.

"He's pretty busy."

"I'm sure he'd like to see you." Why was she doing this?

"I think I'd rather go back to work."

"If you're sure. Just no more moping about at home, ok? And next time you can't sleep, call me. I'm sure you'll be a welcome distraction from the anatomy of the kidney or whatever."

"Thanks Abby. For this."

"You'd do the same for me." Already had done, really.

"Still–"

"–Carter, it's fine. Honestly. Just think of it as bringing me closer to my sainthood or something," she said, trying to pass it off.

"Well, thank you. How's the internship going anyway?"

"Ok, I guess. It's tougher than I thought it would be. And it's weird, not being able to spend time with patients as much. I'm still not so hot on the book stuff, but Neela's trying to help me. Counts as her rent."

"She's living with you?"

"Well, she has the couch and one cupboard until she can find somewhere else."

"I could help you with some of the academic stuff, if you like. I know all the best mnemonics. Payment for my therapy."

"Thanks, I'd like that. I think I'm a little rusty from Richard's compulsory sabbatical. She smiled. "See, it's all his fault I failed my boards."

"You passed second time, though."

"Yes I did."

He looked down at their hands on the table, surprised. At some point his other hand had joined the two of theirs which were already linked together there.

"Abby, you should go. You must be exhausted."

"You're sure you're ok?"

"Sure."

"I am pretty whacked."

He stood up slightly abruptly, and took her coat from under his before escorting her to the door.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow then?"

"I'll be there." His smile looked a little forced. She reached up and wrapped him into a tight hug.

"You take care of your self 'til then," she said in a low voice as she felt his arms close around her shoulders.

"It's only seven hours. I expect I'll survive." She knew that he was smiling, knew also that his smile was pale and tired. She wished she could make all of this go away for him, wished she could somehow let him know how much she cared.

Instead she released him and walked towards her car, turning to wave just before she reached it. He was still standing in the doorway as her rear-lights disappeared around the corner.

o-o-o-o-o.o-o-o-o-o

She let herself in.

"You been out on the town with Dom again?" Neela asked.

Abby just smiled tiredly.

o-o-o-o-o.o-o-o-o-o

He still couldn't sleep, but this time it was for different reasons. When he finally drifted off, he was smiling.

He awoke at 4am sweating and screaming, with bloody images of small skulls and concrete fresh in his mind. He only had three and a half hours until he had to go to work. He made himself some coffee and turned on the TV, afraid to go back to sleep lest the nightmares should return.

o-o-o-o-o.o-o-o-o-o

AN: sorry if it seemed a little sparse. Can we pretend that it was a deliberate change of pace rather than me being stuck?

And please review! (otherwise you can't come to my party...)