Ok, so maybe the Susan/Eric situation is starting to grow on some people now

Am I right?

I hope I'm right

But either way – this is what you really want, right?

Some good ol' carby-ness

And it's right here

In this chapter

Thanks first goes to:

Britgirl2003, sam, starbright, Dracula5555, Caroline25, AbbyLockhart2, Hibbs, third charm, missy-maura and Angel Dust

Most of you regulars really, so thanks very much

On with the show

On with the carby

(I really hope you…) Enjoy! Love LJ xXx

Beyond All Of Everything. Chapter Fourteen. In All Honesty

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o SUMMARY OF CHAPTER 13: Abby and Ollie have lunch with Eric. Carter realises he misses her. Susan and Eric have a…moment.

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Jing-Mei sighs and rests her elbows on the table as she quietly asks him: "Then why do you miss her so much?"

Abby inspects the new bruise on her cheek in the bathroom mirror; the latest gift from Richard. God, the stupid fool was convinced she was having an affair – he saw her having lunch with Eric. Jesus Christ, it was her own brother. So what? Now he claims it's incest. God, she hates him. She hates him so damn much.

She stomps out of the bathroom before remembering to quieten down so she doesn't wake her son. Richard really is out of town for now so at least there's something to be grateful for. She's off to another AA meeting – she hasn't been for a while. Probably another thing that convinces Carter that she's still hopelessly drunk. She hates him, too.

Actually no, she really doesn't. But she hates that. She hates the fact that she can't hate him. Does that make sense? Oh well.

She kisses a sleeping Ollie before she leaves the apartment, and sticks a note to his bedroom door, reminding him, as ever, that she loves him and will be back very, very soon. He won't read it; he sleeps through the night, gripping a T shirt that used to belong to Abby a very long time ago.


Abby just came through the door but Carter doesn't want to speak to her – how can he? He takes a seat as far back from her as he can and spends the rest of the meeting in silence. But the meeting passes on and, again, he can't get her out of his head. He curses himself quietly everytime he catches himself just watching her or everytime he feels his heart race at the sound of her voice or even her name. As the meeting ends, she is the first one out. No doubt off to get some more drink, he tells himself.

She is not worth it. Why can't he believe that? Carter runs after her, planning on saying something really cutting just to prove to her; he doesn't care about her just like she doesn't care about him.

"I'm surprised you even turned up today," he sneers at her back. She stops in the middle of the sidewalk but does not turn around.

"I'm surprised you even noticed I was gone," she spits in return and brings her hair down to hide the bruise on her face but he comes around to face her.

"I'm surprised you even had time to fit it into your busy schedule," he adds. "You know: get up, get drunk…" He tucks back her hair to reveal the bruise. "Trip up or injure yourself in some other drunken way and then make up some barely plausible lie to cover up."

Carter says all this but he can't help but feel deeply disappointed. He had half-hoped that she would've been able to pull through but apparently not.

"You want to know how I got this?" she points at her cheek – finally fed up with his constant contemptuous attitude

"Yeah, alright – go ahead," Carter scoffs. "I'd like to see you lie your way out of this one."

Abby takes deep breath. He has no idea what he's letting himself in for.

"Fine, let me tell you how my daily routine really would be before I quit drinking – which I have done, for your information," she begins, struggling to keep her temper down.

"Right," Carter snarls, sarcastically.

"Sober for almost three weeks," Abby retorts. "But before then, I would pick Ollie up from school, take him home, play and talk and make him dinner etc. After I put him to bed then, yeah, I would drink as much as I could before Richard got back from wherever the hell he went all day."

Carter still glares defiantly at her and at that last comment he shoots a short triumphant laugh at her.

"You know why?" she continues, her voice rising to a shout, ignoring the scorn on his face. "Because that way, when Richard came home and started hitting me or banging my head on the walls and furniture or beating me up anyway he could, I couldn't feel it as much. Then I'd either go to bed or pass out – I don't know – I guess I was too drunk to care, wasn't I, Carter? So then every morning, my little boy would wake me up for work and pour whatever alcohol was left in the house down the sink and I would take a morning-after pill – cos he raped me most nights and I couldn't take any chances; no child should have to live this life with me, it's bad enough that Ollie is caught up in it. Every morning and every evening, Carter, this happened – it still happens. Only now, I don't drink because I promised my son I wouldn't."

Carter unfolds his arms and they hang at his sides, limp with shock. Of all things, he hadn't expected her to say that.

"So all these bruises and cuts and broken bones," she goes on but her voice falls to barely a murmur. "Aren't from some kind of drunken stupor – they're from my husband. I haven't had alcohol for weeks and, you know, it hurts a whole lot more and it's harder to forget, but I promised Ollie."

"Oh, Abby – " Carter begins, softly. He takes her hand, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, well you can 'oh, Abby' all you want," she snaps and snatches back her hand. "It's nice to see what you think of me – that I'd lie to my own son. You have no idea, Carter."

"You gotta call the cops," Carter says, suddenly. Abby laughs bitterly.

"I thought you might say that," she replies. "The first time he ever hurt me like that, Ollie was just a baby and he promised me that if I ever said anything about this to anybody, he would kill –"

She trails off and looks up at Carter, choked. She had had no trouble recounting the way Richard beat her up and raped her, or admitting her drink problem, or finally telling somebody exactly how her life is – but now, as she tries to explain this one thing she never really wanted to believe, she can't.

"Ollie?" Carter finishes for her. Abby nods. "He said he'd kill –? "

"Yes," she cuts him off, not wanting to hear the whole sentence. "And even though he doesn't remember his son's school plays or his birthday, I know this is one promise he'd keep because he knows: it's the most painful thing he could ever do to me."

"You have to call the cops," Carter tells her, firmly. "It'd be alright if you'd just call them."

"I can't, do you know how much trust it's taken me to say this to you?" This is her six-year old son he's talking about risking. "I can't."

"Yes you can," he begins to shout. "You have to do this. Nothing bad is going to happen."

"You don't know that and it's not a risk I'm going to take." Did he hear what she just said?

"But you have to – it'll be okay."

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?" She screams. He falls silent, stunned. "You just don't understand – he's my son, I'm not going to take any chances. Is there any way that you could possibly appreciate that, or shall I put it into simpler terms for you?" He looks at her, dumbstruck.

"Ok, fine," Abby runs her fingers through her hair in frustration. How can she put it so that he'll get the picture? "Tell me, Carter. What's the most important thing to you in the whole world?" Carter says nothing but stares down at the ground, hands in pockets.

"Tell me, if it's the only way I can make you understand," She demands. "Everything isn't as easy as you think – what's the one thing that, if it was taken away from you, you just wouldn't be able live anymore?"

He looks at her and answers simply:

"You."

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