Oh, so close.
See I was planning on waiting until I got 150 reviews for 15 chapters until I updated
But 149 is close enough
And I couldn't really leave you hanging
Cos you've been v cool and reviewed plenty for me
So I owe ya one
That's a thanks that goes out to all the following:
carbytothecore, Dracula5555, kattybaby2318, starbright, fiery red-haired girl, love-carby, dynamitedawn, britgirl2003, mcan3 and striker20.
So here's the 16th chapter
I personally prefer chapter 17
But you'll have to wait for that one
Come on all! 160 reviews for 16 chapters!!!!!!
Enjoy! Love LJ xXx
Beyond All Of Everything. Chapter Sixteen. Make A Wish
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o SUMMARY OF CHAPTER 15: Carter tells Abby he loves her but she can't take it.
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"God, I don't care, John," she shouts. "I don't care what he does to me – just as long as Ollie is okay."
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"Well this sucks," Susan announces as she comes through the door of her apartment at the end of the day. Eric is gets up from where he sat at the kitchen table and he smiles to himself.
"You're never happy, are you?" he asks innocently. Susan throws her handbag onto the floor.
"My necklace broke and I've lost it," she begins. "And for some insane reason all they had at work was decaf. I mean, honestly, decaf? What's with that? Do they even want us to come to work?" Eric sets a mug of coffee in front of her and sits back down. She looks at him and then takes it.
"If this is decaf, I'm going to break your legs," she mutters as she sips it but he only laughs.
"Hey, do you think a six-year old boy would like this?" Eric shows her the present for Ollie that he was in the middle of wrapping. Susan shrugs.
"If six-year old boys were my speciality, I'd be in prison," she says wryly and smiles. "What's the occasion?"
"Ollie's sixth birthday tomorrow." Eric answers, whilst struggling with the wrapping paper and tape. He finishes with a flourish and beams at her. "Hey, by the way, how much rent do I owe you?"
"Huh?" Susan frowns as Eric gets out his wallet. "You're a guest, you don't owe me anything. What brought this on?"
"I got a job," he replies, sliding a bunch of notes across to her.
"A job?" she repeats with raised eyebrows. "How long are you planning on staying?"
"I don't know, I'll rent my own place when I have the money," he offers. Susan smiles and picks up the notes on the table.
"No, it's okay. It's nice having you around," she tells him as she flops onto the sofa and flicks on the TV. Eric pretends to be neatening out the wrapping on Ollie's present and hopes she can't see his elation.
Abby pulls open a locker door, identical to all the others in the neat row that stand in the dimly light Doctor's Lounge in the late afternoon, except her one has a small black plaque bearing the name: Lockhart. As if she forever needed reminding of her painful namesake. Reaching for her coat, her hands brush a large object sitting at the bottom of her locker. It is a brightly wrapped box with a tag hanging off that simply reads: Ollie.
She carefully removes it and looks down at it with a sigh – she knows who it's from and as she puts on her coat, John Carter comes through the door. He looks at her and the sizable box now on the Lounge table. He says nothing but offers her a polite smile; it is actually astounding how civil and natural they have been with each other considering all that has been admitted and found out in recent times. Their colleagues have no idea that anything had ever happened; Carter has kept to his word and said nothing to anybody though the dilemma is tearing him apart; Abby has not acted on the things he's told her though everything in her is urging her to. It is just another day gone by.
"You really didn't have to," she tells him, quietly, gesturing at the present. Carter shrugs it off.
"Say Happy Birthday to Ollie from me," he answers with a voice that has a hint of moroseness. Abby nods and picks up the box.
"How do I explain this to…?" she trails off and looks at Carter. "I mean – he'd get angry if he thought that we were…"
"He doesn't need to know it's from me," he cuts her off, not wanting to think about it anymore. Abby nods again and makes towards the door.
"Goodnight," she says. He puts an arm out and takes her gently by the waist before snatching back his arm, feeling guilty for the impulsive movement. She stops and looks at him.
"Take care," he murmurs eventually.
Abby leaves the Lounge and, with her walking down the halls and him sitting in the dark and empty Lounge, they share a sigh as she heads back home. She wishes that he wasn't such a nice guy, that she didn't care about him as much as she does. Knowing that he feels like this about her is just another taunting thing reminding her of everything out of her grasp.
A small chocolate cake complete with six candles stands proudly on the kitchen counter beside a small stack of presents.
"Come on, birthday boy!" Abby lifts Ollie onto a stool by the counter – it is just the two of them, as ever. "What do you want first: presents or cake?"
"Presents!" Ollie decides, reaching for the top-most box on the stack. Moments later wrapping paper lies on the fall and opened toys are lined up along table; two that were signed from "Mom and Dad" – a gift tag that no longer fools him – roller blades from Uncle Eric that were greeted with a short pause and raised eyebrows. Ollie beams whilst opening the last and biggest, lifting the lid to reveal, nestled in blue tissue paper, a child-sized baseball glove, ball and bat. At that moment Richard staggers in through the front door and lurches off to the bedroom, straight past his wife and son. Ollie looks down at the present and then up at Abby.
"Is it from - ?" Ollie knows better than to mention names when his father is home. Abby nods and her mouth turns up in what would've been a smile had she felt it.
"Hey, how about we light these candles?" she forces on some cheerfulness and gets out a box of matches. Six small flames flicker momentarily as Ollie draws in a big breath. "Make a wish." Abby reminds him as he blows them all out in one puff. A loud crash comes from the bedroom and Abby hesitates for a moment before going to see what's going on; probably Richard smashing things in a drunken rage again.
"Happy Birthday, honey," she kisses Ollie as she leaves the room. Ollie sits alone in the kitchen and slips his hand inside the baseball glove – a perfect fit. Voices rise in the bedroom and pierce easily through the paper-thin walls that hold nothing from him.
"I'm not going to let you ignore him today," Abby shouts. "Not today – not on his birthday."
"What?" Richard bellows. "You're not going to let me?"
"He's six years old, did you even know that?"
"What exactly are you going to do to me, stupid bitch?" he sneers. "Who gives the orders around here?"
And then there's that thump and muffled scream that Ollie's heard far too many times and always dreads. It comes again and again but he doesn't hear his Mom make a sound anymore. Ollie perches on the edge of the stool with slumped shoulders and looks at the candles that still smoulder on the cake.
Perhaps he doesn't do it right; his wishes never come true. Every single year, it's the same thing; he doesn't know why it never works. Birthday wishes are somehow done wrong, letters to Santa must get lost along the way. The fighting goes on in the next room and Ollie pads off to bed where Abby's old t shirt will be used to wipe his tears and running nose, leaving cake, candles and presents forgotten. He only ever wishes for one thing and he tries really hard to be a good boy all year long but somehow – somehow every day ends the same.
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