PLENTY of well-deserved thanks goes to:
AngelDust, britgirl2003, sam, KayH, evileyeandsmyle and starbright.
…I like Ollie, too – if I'm allowed to say that.
He's kinda cute
But Richard is, indeed, damn scary
And when does the Carby start, you ask?
Well, right now!
Enjoy! Love LJ xXx
Beyond All Of Everything. Chapter Four. Coming Down
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o SUMMARY OF CHAPTER 3: Abby meets Carter at AA meeting. They go for coffee afterwards but she is late home and Richard is pissed off.
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Dr Susan Lewis flips through the charts: Chest pain; possible fracture of the wrist; second-degree burns. She considers them – all pretty routine – and opts to take the chest pain, in curtain three, first. As she juggles the chart to the top her pile, she looks over the top and sees Carter and Abby. He is leaning on the desk and talking animatedly about something she can't make out. Abby watches him with a growing smile. Her hair is worn down, partially hiding her face, but her eyes flicker up and down him, lingering on his face. Susan grins to herself.
Over in the corner, a dazed patient suddenly crawls, groggily from his bed and brings a tray crashing to the ground. Abby leaves to help the patient back into bed whilst Susan approaches Carter.
"Don't think I didn't see that." Her voice appearing from apparently nowhere surprises him. He turns to see Susan smirking at him.
"What?" he asks, innocently – he can't stop the smile spreading across his face.
"Well I think it's good to see you, you know, moving on." Susan glances at his face to check he knows what she means – after what happened to Lucy.
"We're just friends," Carter insists. "We're kind of helping each other out."
"Is that what you kids call it nowadays?" Susan replies slyly.
"She's married." Carter answers and smiles triumphantly at Susan's shocked expression.
"Really?" she asks, in disbelief. Carter has already begun to walk off, but the back of his head nods.
"Yep," he yells. Susan shifts her charts onto her hip and wanders off to curtain three, frowning confusedly, realising that, in actual fact, she knows nothing about Abby Lockhart.
"She's married. She's married," Carter mutters to himself but finds that his feet are walking him to her place, anyway. He can't go there; he shouldn't. But yet, here he is – walking the sidewalks in the late evening and undoubtedly heading towards her.
"You're stupid, this is wrong," he hisses to himself, but he's not listening.
"We're just friends. It's harmless." He insists, jabbing furiously at the elevator button in Abby's building. He gets nothing – it must be broken. Shaking his head and still talking to himself, he climbs the stairs: "Of course it's harmless; I don't need to make excuses. We're friends, nothing more." He finds himself outside her door.
"Just friends." He mumbles before knocking on the door. There's a scrabbling at the door and it swings open.
"You're early -" Abby begins before looking up at Carter's sheepish face. Is it just him or did he see a hint of relief in her face when she saw him? "Oh. Hello."
"Hi," he smiles awkwardly. "I came to…erm…see how you were."
"I'm fine," she answers, breathlessly with a smile. A small boy in pyjamas peers around a door and then comes cautiously out of his room.
"Hey," Carter waves at the kid who clings, nervously, to Abby's leg. She kneels down and strokes his face.
"It's okay, Ollie. This is John – he's a friend from work." She tells him.
"Hi, Ollie," Carter tries again. Ollie waves, but hides his face in the folds of Abby's jeans.
"Hello," he replies, meekly as Abby picks him up.
"Come in, come in," she ushers Carter inside and shuts the door. "Do you want some coffee or something?" She leads him into the kitchen. With Ollie still sitting on her hip and twisting strands of her hair around his fingers, Abby begins to search through the cupboards for some coffee. Carter sits on the edge of a stool and stares around him, taking in everything.
"How do you normally take your coffee?" she asks but gets no reply. "John?"
"Hmm?" he responds, vaguely. She tries again:
"How do you normally take your – " she turns and sees him staring at the floor with a strange expression. "What?" Carter says nothing but leans down to pick up the object that's caught his attention. He sets it down on the table and looks at her. A heavy sinking feeling slips down her insides as she looks between him and the wine bottle now standing on the worktop. She puts Ollie down on the floor.
"Go to bed, honey," she tells him and kisses his forehead quickly. "It's past your bedtime – I'll come and say goodnight soon." Ollie obediently runs off and Abby shuts the kitchen door behind him.
"Carter – " she begins uneasily. "It really isn't like it seems."
"What is it then?"
"I didn't drink any, the cork's still in."
"But you were going to."
"I didn't, though."
"So that makes it alright?" he demands. "It's okay because I came before you could open it. Isn't that what happened?"
"It isn't easy, Carter." She sighs.
"Yeah, I know," he snaps. "I've been through it all, remember?"
"Then why are you getting so pissed off?"
"Because you're weak."
"Thanks." She snaps back, getting annoyed herself.
"Well you're welcome. I got through it – I don't see why you can't."
"Just because you're okay now, doesn't mean we all are."
"Look, I don't see what's so wrong with your life. You're married, you've got a kid and you're doing okay. So, I'm sorry if you feel that life is picking on you, Abby. I'm sorry if you feel that everything seems unfair on you but as far as I can see, this is all for no reason. No reason but yourself. Correct me if I'm wrong, Abby, but everything is working out for you. It's not like you're in great poverty or that you've got nobody in your life or that someone you loved was attacked and killed." Carter begins to raise his voice.
"Don't shout in my apartment," she tells him calmly.
"There's nothing wrong with your life, is there?" he repeats.
"No," she answers finally. He smiles superiorly and she can't bring herself to look at him.
"It's just you, then Abby. You're just going to sit here and feel sorry for yourself." His voice is tinged with pure disgust. "Well go ahead. Drink your happy life away and tell yourself that nobody cares about you and that nothing is worth living for. You're just weak." The last word is spat out with such anger that it sort of reverberates around the tiled room.
"You're right," she says, quietly. "I am. So help me."
"Huh?" Carter stares at her.
"Help me." She never thought she'd find herself saying these words, ever. "Please?" She looks up at him and his expression has softened.
"I'm sorry for shouting," he whispers and draws her into a hug.
"That's okay," she mumbles, resting her head on his chest.
"It won't get much harder than this, Abby." He promises her. "You get past this first day and it'll be alright." He feels her nodding slowly. "I'll help you."
They stand together in the silence and, between Carter's quickened heartbeat, Abby hears a car door slam somewhere on the street far below. She jerks out of his arms and runs to the window, peering down. She sees Richard saunter towards their block.
"You have to go now," she pushes Carter out of the kitchen and opens the front door.
"What?" he frowns, confused.
"My husband's home."
"Can't I meet him?" he asks. She gives a short, sour laugh.
"I'm sorry. Thankyou for coming round," she shoves him out of the door.
"Abby – "
"I'll see you tomorrow, Carter."
"But – "
"You've been great." She looks at him, standing puzzled and disorientated in the hall. She smiles softly; he must think that she's crazy. "But you have to go now."
"Will you be okay?" he asks, concerned. She nods. There's a pause as he debates in his head whether or not he should…
He kisses her. They stand, watching each others' eyelashes flicker, inches apart. His hand is still cradling the side of her face. Then she pulls back and shuts the door. In the empty living room, she leans her back against the door and sighs so deeply it slides her down the door to sit on the floor.
She is coming down and they say that the first twenty-four hours are the hardest. Abby sits, head in her knees and she wonders if she will be able to go without. It seems impossible and yet so strange; she misses him already.