Disclaimer- Characters, not mine. Song belongs to The Calling, could it be any harder.
Rating- PG
Authors Note- Hey I am sorry for the lack of updates, but I hadn't written this chapter and then I got the idea so I figured I should write it. Anyways, I have been EXTREMELY busy lately. I have a lot of school work this year, due to college and everything so my fics could be updated less, but I hope to do it in my free time. Anyways. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Companion with- Moving On (Summary for moving on- Abby leaves Carter and he calls her name as she is leaving, Amy calls Abby and is upset about the break up, and Abby reminisces while looking at pictures.)
Chapter Three- Backwards Steps
You left me with goodbye and open arms
A cut so deep I don't deserve
You were always invincible in my eyes
the only thing against us now is time
She's all moved out. Boxes covered my front entrance for what seemed like days, but was really only a few hours. The kids packed up a few of their things, dividing what they wanted at my place and what they wanted to take over to Abby's into boxes. It wasn't easy to watch. I spent the day helping Ethan. It wasn't easy on him, but he handle it very...maturely. I was impressed, and proud. He's growing up fast. Too fast, sometimes.
"Mom's going to pick up my stuff tomorrow. I might spend the night there tonight, though." I look up from my newspaper, that I've been staring blankly at for the past twenty minutes or so.
"Oh, okay." I guess I look hurt, because he moves closer to me, shutting the den door behind him. He perches on the end of the couch looking at me.
"It's- it's just that I don't want her to be alone. And... I mean there are always people here." Then why do I feel so alone?
"Don't worry about it son." I pat his knee, folding the newspaper up and tossing it onto the table. "You do what you have to do." Why do I suddenly remind myself of my dad?
I stand up walking closer to the door, and pulling it open.
"You'll be okay?" I don't turn around.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." I walk out into the hallway, the place I was trying to avoid today. The pain seems to sky rocket when I am out here. Brown boxes clutter the big space, making it look smaller than it actually is. Abby isn't anywhere in sight, not that I want to see her. Not really at least. I don't know what good it would do me.
"She's started packing the car." I nod, as he moves closer to me. "Look dad..." He pause, our eyes meeting and suddenly I'm seeing less of the young boy that I raised, and more of the man he is becoming. "If there is anything I can do..." I nod again, patting his shoulder.
"I know." He smiles at bit. "Go finish packing, I'll be fine." He's gone as soon as he came. I hear the door open and Abby come in. Leaning up against the den door, just out of eye shot, I watch as she picks up a few boxes, taking them out to her car. Not too many left before she is completely out of my life. My wife... Ex- wife. I shake my head, the word sending sharp pains into my stomach.
She walks into the mansion again, picking up the last few things that lay scattered on the floor. She looks around one last time, her keys in her hands, chiming together lightly. Scanning the room she looks remorseful? Sad?... Heaving a deep sigh she heads towards the door. My feet take over leading me closer, watching as her fingers delicately hold the railing.
"Abby..." My voice trailing away, swimming into the darkness.
She graces me with a weak, broken smile. I open my mouth to speak, again no words come. It's useless. In a single sweep she's gone, the door is shut keys are on my table, I look at them longingly. It shouldn't be this way, it shouldn't have turned out this way. When I said forever I meant it. I guess some things were made to be broken.
I run my fingers along the blue velvet box, remembering the day I handed it to her. The smile that unfolded on her lips. How I made her repeat her answer over and over again. Funny, it's usually the other way around. Guess that should have been my first sign. I tuck the box into my locker, shutting the door closed before more memories decided to haunt me. I don't think I'll ever be free of them, we work together, I just can't avoid her, or cut her out of my life completely. Something's just don't work that way. We never worked that way.
Slinging my stethoscope around my neck I walk to the coffee machine, pouring myself a cup. Her picture hangs a few feet away from me, a Christmas picture, one of the many we have decorated the lounge with. I shake my head again. Nothing has ever seemed this hard, maybe I'm over looking a few things. Loosing Kem, my grandmothers death, my brothers death, my drug addiction, Lucy's death. Yet nothing seems to compare to the pain... My son's death... It felt like every piece of me was being ripped apart shredded. He would have been my life, things would have been different...
Could it be any harder to say goodbye and without you,
Could it be any harder to watch you go, to face what's true
If I only had one more day
She's not working today, which is more than a relief. A lifesaver to say the least. I don't think either of us could have functioned if she had been...
"Carter, you have a visitor." I look up at Frank, who nudges his hands towards my father. He stands a few feet away looking lost, at the least.
"Dad." I say, approaching him quickly.
"John." He shakes my hand firmly, looking me up and down. As to make sure Abby didn't slaughter me before she left.
"You look good." I say retrieving my hand.
"I wish I could say the same for you." He says sorrowfully. I bite down on my bottom lip. "I'm sorry John, I wish things could have turned out differently for you. Abby, is such a nice woman. I always wanted more for you then what I had, and I'm sorry I couldn't give that to you."
I shake my head looking at him confused. "Dad this isn't your fault. This was my marriage. My responsibility. I guess I let her slip away from me, maybe I should have done more." No, I definitely should have done more. "There's nothing you could have done to make that better."
He pats my shoulder gingerly. "I know son... Maybe if your mother and I set a better example." I nod knowingly, knowing exactly what he is thinking. Will I be having this same conversation with my kids one day? Will I be telling them I'm sorry I didn't try to set a better example with my marriage, so maybe they could see that happiness is not just plastering a smile on your face, but work, and it's worth it. And if you love someone enough you will do anything to make them happy and be happy with them.
"Nothing you can do now dad. It's in the past. Everything is."
"Maybe there is still time." He says with a bit of hope. I shake my head. Time? I wasted time, I killed time, I used it against myself. Thinking that is I gave her time then things would be okay. She didn't need time, she needed to know I loved her.
"Time, hope, love. That's all a thing of the past dad." Abby was, and remains unreachable. The more time I put between us, the more unreachable she became. I don't think she realizes how much she meant to me, how much I would give just to be with her again. To try and make everything alright.
"Well, dad," I say looking around the hospital, "I better get working." He nods understanding, shaking my hand once more he heads for the doors. I watch as he fades into the crowds, smudging in with the busy day. God, my life is such a mess. I turn towards the stack of charts and grab one, flipping through it.
I lie down and blind myself with laughter
A quick fix of hope is what I'm needing
And now I wish that I could turn back the hours
But I know I just don't have the power
The minutes seem to blur into hours, my legs are worn, my head hurts, my chest aches. I'm completely numb, wearing myself out, working myself into the ground. Regrets of words I should have said, moments I should have taken advantage of. Things I should have done... Things we should have done. Stage one: Regret, Stage Two: Anger. I think I'm looking forward to stage two, finally being able to put blame where blame is due. I do realize this is not all my fault, yet with each passing minute I think of a new way I could fixed us. The stitches I could have used to mend our broken souls. God, Abby, don't do this to me.
The stack of charts seems to be accumulating, not shrinking as it should be. I rub my fingers along my weary forehead. I need a break from this, from this damn hospital from my life. I just need the phone call to finalize it.
I thrust my hands into my pockets and feel the hard package rubbing up against my knuckles. My pen clunks against the chart, as I make my way towards the ambulance bay. I pull out the package, resting the cigarette in my lips, I light it and look out into the night. The blackness falling over Chicago, winter is leaving us as spring settles in for a short stay.
I watch as throngs of people crowd down the streets pushing their way past one another. Each in a hurry to get home to family, I guess I'll no longer be part of that rush. I spot her out of the corner of my eye, her figure slowly making it's way towards me. Head down into the collar of her jacket. I watch her for a second, before throwing my burning cigarette to the ground and walking into the hospital. The admit desk looks like a good place to hide. I thought she wasn't working?
"Frank, Abby's on?" I ask looking at the heavy man.
"I had to call her in shortage." He shoves another piece of donut into his mouth. "Don't worry Dr. Carter, you're outta here in less than a half hour." I glance up at the clock, midnight. Well, now I'm looking forward to the end of my shift.
"ER?" Frank grabs the phone, I look away seeing Abby walk into the hospital. Susan greets her, and they walk into the lounge together... Looking at her smile she seems happy, but looking at her eyes I see differently, one of the many masks she wears is shining through.
"It's for you. Some guy from Africa. Your little doctors without borders..." Frank says shoving the phone in my direction.
"Dr. Carter, speaking."
"Dr. Carter, this Jean from the-"
"Ah, Jean..." I say, more than happy to hear his voice.
"You remember." I nod, remembering him from one of my adventures to Africa.
"So you are interested in volunteering in the program again, after twenty-five years."
"Very interested."
Could it be any harder to say goodbye and without,
Could it be any harder to watch you go, to face what's true
If I only had one more day
Thanks- Carby-Always, CarolinaCarby, Angel Dust, Froggiezaz, shygirly. And, As usual, thanks to my buddy/partner in fan fiction crime/and one of the coolest people I know: LIBY! Whoo! Thanks for everything, maybe I'll catch up to you one day. (oh and the kids are good, thanks for asking!)