Well I take it most people like the Susan/Eric thing
But a few don't – sorry guys, I really am not gonna do anything about that
But there's still the other storyline for ya
Thanks for reviewing, whatever you said, anyway
That's to:
Fiery red-haired girl, carby luva 313, Amanda, Angel Dust (little miss wyle from the forum!!!), sam, matchstickgirl, britgirl2003, carby6, starbright, dracula5555 and Kay H
Onwards we go…
Enjoy! Love LJ xXx
Beyond All Of Everything. Chapter Twelve. The Cold Shoulder
o
o
o
o SUMMARY OF CHAPTER 11: Eric turns up but has to stay at Susan's. They get on well…
o
o
o
"Well I think you're very pretty," he says with a shrug before he can stop himself
- o -
"Where are the stitches from?" Richard comes in through the front door and sees Abby. He hadn't been home all night and Abby is making breakfast for Ollie.
"Hospital." She answers shortly, not looking at him. He tilts her head towards him, one finger under her chin. She freezes at his touch, cereal box and bowl – one in each hand – suspended shakily in mid-air.
"I hope you didn't tell them more than they needed to know," he croons in a strange voice. He's not drunk; this time he's stoned.
"I didn't, Richard. I didn't tell them anything," she insists, hurriedly.
"Are you sure?" he persists. "You know what I have to do if you're lying to me…" She runs a tongue over her dry lips and nods.
"I didn't say anything – you know I wouldn't. I didn't."
He smiles – they both know that he has her completely under control. Ollie's bedroom door opens and he pads out in his pyjamas. Richard laughs slightly before walking off to collapse on his own bed. He walks straight past Ollie – ignoring his son – and closes his door behind him. He won't come out all day.
Abby shakes herself to steady her nerves and continues pouring Ollie's cereal.
"Good morning," he greets as he clambers onto a stool. Abby sets the bowl in front of him.
"Hey baby," she smiles at him. Ollie begins to shovel the cereal into his mouth and Abby sits opposite, in her scrubs, just watching him.
"Are you working today?" his words are incomprehensible through a mouthful of cereal.
"What was that? Don't talk with your mouth full, Ollie," she reminds him. "Nobody wants to see all your yucky chewed up food." He takes a great big gulp to swallow it down before repeating his question:
"Are you working today, Mom?" He ends his sentence by opening his now-empty mouth as wide as he can.
"Yep," she nods. "And you're coming with me, okay?" She laughs at him gaping at her. "See that's more like it." And she copies him, opening her mouth wide.
"Uh Uhn Urel?" he offers, attempting to speak like this.
"Uh?" Abby leans closer. He puts a spoon of cereal in her open mouth.
"Want some cereal?" he repeats with a cheeky grin.
It is just after lunchtime. Ollie sits in the Doctor's Lounge and quietly, patiently colours in pictures. He is undisturbed by the flow of doctors and nurses in and out of the room. The nurses fuss over him whenever they can but he makes no trouble – he's a good kid. John Carter's shift is over at 2pm and he hangs up his white coat in his locker.
"You and Mom aren't friends anymore, are you?" he asks. Other than saying a courteous 'Good morning' or 'Good afternoon', this is first thing Ollie has said to anybody else all day and Carter looks round, surprised.
"It's complicated, Ollie," Carter struggles to explain.
"It's ok," he replies, carrying on with his colouring. "It's none of my business." Carter can't help but breathe a laugh at the politeness and maturity coming out of this small boy.
"Have you been here all day?" Carter comes to kneel in front of Ollie.
"Yep."
"Doesn't it get boring?" Carter can't imagine being stuck here all day; he'd go crazy.
"I don't mind," Ollie smiles. Carter sits in silence for a while.
"Hey, didn't you say you've never played baseball before?" Carter says, suddenly. Ollie nods. "Want to go play?"
"Now?" Ollie's face is lit with a mixture of doubtfulness and excitement.
"Yeah, sure why not? What time does your Mom finish?"
"4 o'clock," Ollie answers.
"Ok, so we'll get back before four, alright?"
"Cool," Ollie grins and jumps up. It certainly beat sitting in the Doctor's Lounge all day.
"Hey Jerry, I'm taking Abby's kid out to play baseball for a bit. Tell her he'll be back by four, okay?" Carter calls to Jerry at the front desk while he and Ollie leave the ER.
"Sure, whatever." Jerry responds dully, staring at his computer screen.
"Don't be afraid of the ball!" Carter shouts tips down the park to Ollie, looking even smaller kitted up in an over-sized helmet with one of Carter's old bats. "Really give it all you've got!" He bowls the ball lightly down the field and Ollie ducks it again, as soon as it gets too close. Carter smiles, patiently.
"How about we take a break, kid?" he suggests instead. Ollie nods; the helmet rocks on his head and he tips it back to grin up at Carter.
"I'll get it next time," Ollie tells him, eagerly.
"Jerry?" Abby is leaning over the front desk.
"Huh?" Jerry grunts, gazing into the computer monitor.
"Jerry, have you seen my son?" Abby asks, anxiously.
"Yeah sure," he replies, vaguely.
"Jerry – this is serious."
"I know." He isn't listening at all. Abby watches in him in agitated disbelief before leaning down and unplugging the cable to the computer.
"Hey!" Jerry jumps up angrily. "What are you doing?"
"I don't care – where's my son?" she demands.
"How should I know?" he snaps, putting the plug back in. "You should take better care of him."
"You don't know where he is?" she repeats, weakly.
"No," Jerry returns to his computer, leaving Abby standing, struggling to keep her panic down.
"That was great – you're really getting good!" Carter enthuses as Ollie knocks the ball to the ground less than a foot from his own feet. "You just need to swing it more. You're doing great!" Carter leans down, about to fling the ball to Ollie again when he hear his watch beep. It is four o'clock.
"Oh crap," he mutters. "We gotta run, Ollie. You're Mom's gonna be worried."
Abby walks nervously around the Doctor's Lounge; what does she do now – who does she call? Where does she go?
Oh god, oh god – Richard took him. He did, didn't he? He was suspicious – he thought she told someone. But she didn't, she didn't. She didn't say anything. She wouldn't. She wouldn't risk that. Couldn't he see she was telling the truth? Oh god.
She's got to calm down. She doesn't know Richard took him for sure.
But he was pissed off this morning. And he was high – he'd do anything then. Not Ollie – just not Ollie. She shouldn't have passed out. Then she wouldn't have had to go to hospital and he wouldn't have suspected anything. And Ollie phoned an ambulance for her because he's so, so amazing. He's probably just outside. Or gone to the bathroom or something. Maybe he's gone looking for her.
Maybe.
Or maybe Richard took him and has got him right now and is just about to –
Shut up. Oh god. He doesn't. He wouldn't. He can't.
Well, actually he would and he could, quite easily.
How could she ever live without him?
Oh god.
Oh god.
"Mom!" Ollie yells, bursting through the Doctor's Lounge door. Abby turns and falls to her knees to accept his hug – she was probably close to passing out from relief anyway.
"Oh my god, Ollie – where have you been?" she breathes. "I've been so worried. Don't ever run off, ever."
"John taught me to play baseball!" he squeaks, excitedly. It is only then that Abby looks up and sees Carter sitting on the edge of the couch and looking in another direction.
"And look what he got me!" Ollie shows her the bat before proudly sticking the helmet on his head.
"Hey cool!" Abby laughs at the hugeness of the helmet and picks him up. "Come on, let's go home." They head towards the Lounge door.
"Bye John!" Ollie chirps beneath the helmet.
"Bye Ollie." Carter's voice is quieter now, deader, colder.
"Don't you ever go off with strangers again, Ollie," Abby tells him as they walk out.
"But John's not a stranger – you said he was a friend," Ollie reasons. Their voices float along the corridor and Carter listens.
"Well he's not anymore," comes her reply before the Lounge door finally closes, shutting Carter into the empty silence.
He tells himself he does not care. That she was just a failure. That she can't be helped – she practically refuses to be helped. She was a hopeless case.
But those last words really hurt.
- o -