Susan was waiting for her when Haleh wheeled Abby back into the trauma room after her CT and x-ray.
"So," Susan asked gently. "How are you feeling?"
Abby shrugged. "Ok I guess. Tired."
"I think we all are," Susan said, and smiled. She did look tired, Abby thought. "Ok. Your CT and x-ray were both clear. So I just have to suture that cut. I would like to admit you overnight for observation. You were beaten up pretty thoroughly, and there could be something we missed. Besides, this way we can be sure you get a good night's sleep."
"It's not like I particularly want to go home," Abby assured her. Then another shaky laugh. "Besides, I don't think I can. I think my apartment is still a crime scene."
"When you do leave tomorrow, if you need a place to stay for a few days, you're welcome to stay with me. I have plenty of room."
Abby couldn't imagine ever going back to her apartment ... sleeping in that bed again. She'd have to find a new place, but, in the meantime ... "Thanks Susan. I'd appreciate that. Did you find out about Luka?"
"Yeah. He's still in surgery. They weren't sure how much longer it would be."
"He's ... doing ok?"
"Yes, Abby. He's doing fine. I guess there was a lot of damage. It's going to take some time to repair."
They didn't talk anymore while Susan sutured her cheek, and Haleh cleaned her other cuts and scrapes and wrapped her sore wrist.
"Do you want me to write you something for pain?" Susan asked as she finished up.
"No, I'm fine."
"Ok. I am going to be sure you get a sedative when you get to your room." Abby started to protest, but Susan went on firmly, "You need a good night's sleep."
"First, I'll need a shower," Abby said softly. She felt grimy.
The phone rang, and Haleh picked it up. "Yes ... thanks, I'll tell them." She hung up. "Dr. Kovac is out of surgery."
"Did they say..." Abby asked anxiously.
"No details. Just that he's in recovery."
Abby jumped down from the table, but Susan said, "Into the chair, Abby. I don't think you're up to doing that much walking around yet."
"I'm fine, Susan."
"You're going to ride. Come on, rules are rule. I'll take you up." Abby reluctantly sat back in the wheelchair, and allowed Susan to push her out into the hall.
In the elevator, Susan said, "You'll only be able to stay for a minute, Abby. You know they usually don't allow visitors at all in recovery, and he's not likely to be conscious yet anyway."
"I know. I just ... I need to know that he's alive. See for myself."
"I understand," Susan assured her.
Abby gripped the armrests of the wheelchair nervously, and so tightly that her sore wrist throbbed. She did need to know that he was ok ... that her inability to get help for him hadn't resulted in his death. And too, it was easier to think about Luka, worry about Luka, than to think about what had happened to her. She would think about that another time.
At the entrance to recovery, Susan stopped the chair "Wait here a second, Abby," she told her, and disappeared through the door. Abby strained to see through the glass. She could see Susan talking to the nurse, but couldn't tell which of the several patients was Luka. From this angle, she couldn't see much of anything.
After a moment, Susan came back out. "Ok, Abby. Just for a minute," and wheeled her inside.
Luka. He lay very still on the bed. He was very white, and white bandages swathed his chest. A tube still ran from a ventilator, into his mouth and down his throat.
"Shouldn't he have been extubated by now?" she asked.
"He's starting to breath on his own," the nurse explained. "But we want to keep him intubated until he's conscious and breathing better. They'll probably extubate sometime tomorrow in the SICU."
"He'll be ok?" Abby didn't miss the fact that he was going to be moved to the surgical ICU after leaving here. Which meant that he was still very sick.
He's doing very well," the nurse assured her.
Which Abby knew was a non-answer, but she also knew that the nurse couldn't really give her any information. That was the doctor's job and there was no sign of Anspaugh. Looking at the monitor, Abby was reassured to see a strong heartbeat, though her experienced eye could tell that it was a bit irregular still.
"You can talk to him," the nurse said gently. "He's not really awake yet, but he may be able to hear you."
Abby touched Luka's hand. He didn't stir. "Luka ... it's Abby. I know you've been worried about me. You don't have to be ... I'm ok."
No response from Luka, just the quiet hum of the ventilator and the beeping of the monitors.
"Ok," said the nurse. "You need to go now. He needs to rest."
"And so do you," Susan reminded her.
Abby leaned back in the chair, and allowed Susan to push her back out into the hall and to the elevators.
-------
Susan dropped Abby in her room, leaving her in the care of the floor nurse. "I need to get back to work," she told her. "I'll stop by and see you in the morning before I leave, ok?"
"Yeah. Thanks Susan." Abby hesitated. "It really helped ... being cared for by a friend ... someone who does care about me."
Susan could only smile again, and left her alone with the nurse.
A shower. Abby desperately needed a shower. She knew enough to know that it was psychological. She wasn't really that dirty ... but knowing that didn't make the need any less real.
The nurse helped Abby into the shower, and she stayed there as long as she could, letting the hot water just flow over her, washing away some of the horrors of her evening. After perhaps half an hour, the nurse returned to help her dry off, dress and get into bed. A quick check of her vital signs, the sleeping pill, which Abby swallowed reluctantly, then she was left alone to sleep.
Abby was just drifting off, her back to the door, when there was a tap on the door, and a familiar voice saying her name.
"Aren't you working, Carter?" Abby asked softly, not turning to look at him.
"I'm on a break."
"It's after visiting hours."
"I know. I just needed to see you for a minute." She heard him take another step into the room.
"So you've seen me. Good night, John."
"Abby ..." She could hear the pain in his voice.
"Not right now." Quiet. Measured.
"When?"
"I don't know." Carter didn't answer, but she knew he was still there. "Shall I ring for the nurse and have her throw you out?"
"No. I'm going. Good-night, Abby."
Abby heard his footsteps leave the room, heard the door shut. Then she cried herself to sleep.
"So," Susan asked gently. "How are you feeling?"
Abby shrugged. "Ok I guess. Tired."
"I think we all are," Susan said, and smiled. She did look tired, Abby thought. "Ok. Your CT and x-ray were both clear. So I just have to suture that cut. I would like to admit you overnight for observation. You were beaten up pretty thoroughly, and there could be something we missed. Besides, this way we can be sure you get a good night's sleep."
"It's not like I particularly want to go home," Abby assured her. Then another shaky laugh. "Besides, I don't think I can. I think my apartment is still a crime scene."
"When you do leave tomorrow, if you need a place to stay for a few days, you're welcome to stay with me. I have plenty of room."
Abby couldn't imagine ever going back to her apartment ... sleeping in that bed again. She'd have to find a new place, but, in the meantime ... "Thanks Susan. I'd appreciate that. Did you find out about Luka?"
"Yeah. He's still in surgery. They weren't sure how much longer it would be."
"He's ... doing ok?"
"Yes, Abby. He's doing fine. I guess there was a lot of damage. It's going to take some time to repair."
They didn't talk anymore while Susan sutured her cheek, and Haleh cleaned her other cuts and scrapes and wrapped her sore wrist.
"Do you want me to write you something for pain?" Susan asked as she finished up.
"No, I'm fine."
"Ok. I am going to be sure you get a sedative when you get to your room." Abby started to protest, but Susan went on firmly, "You need a good night's sleep."
"First, I'll need a shower," Abby said softly. She felt grimy.
The phone rang, and Haleh picked it up. "Yes ... thanks, I'll tell them." She hung up. "Dr. Kovac is out of surgery."
"Did they say..." Abby asked anxiously.
"No details. Just that he's in recovery."
Abby jumped down from the table, but Susan said, "Into the chair, Abby. I don't think you're up to doing that much walking around yet."
"I'm fine, Susan."
"You're going to ride. Come on, rules are rule. I'll take you up." Abby reluctantly sat back in the wheelchair, and allowed Susan to push her out into the hall.
In the elevator, Susan said, "You'll only be able to stay for a minute, Abby. You know they usually don't allow visitors at all in recovery, and he's not likely to be conscious yet anyway."
"I know. I just ... I need to know that he's alive. See for myself."
"I understand," Susan assured her.
Abby gripped the armrests of the wheelchair nervously, and so tightly that her sore wrist throbbed. She did need to know that he was ok ... that her inability to get help for him hadn't resulted in his death. And too, it was easier to think about Luka, worry about Luka, than to think about what had happened to her. She would think about that another time.
At the entrance to recovery, Susan stopped the chair "Wait here a second, Abby," she told her, and disappeared through the door. Abby strained to see through the glass. She could see Susan talking to the nurse, but couldn't tell which of the several patients was Luka. From this angle, she couldn't see much of anything.
After a moment, Susan came back out. "Ok, Abby. Just for a minute," and wheeled her inside.
Luka. He lay very still on the bed. He was very white, and white bandages swathed his chest. A tube still ran from a ventilator, into his mouth and down his throat.
"Shouldn't he have been extubated by now?" she asked.
"He's starting to breath on his own," the nurse explained. "But we want to keep him intubated until he's conscious and breathing better. They'll probably extubate sometime tomorrow in the SICU."
"He'll be ok?" Abby didn't miss the fact that he was going to be moved to the surgical ICU after leaving here. Which meant that he was still very sick.
He's doing very well," the nurse assured her.
Which Abby knew was a non-answer, but she also knew that the nurse couldn't really give her any information. That was the doctor's job and there was no sign of Anspaugh. Looking at the monitor, Abby was reassured to see a strong heartbeat, though her experienced eye could tell that it was a bit irregular still.
"You can talk to him," the nurse said gently. "He's not really awake yet, but he may be able to hear you."
Abby touched Luka's hand. He didn't stir. "Luka ... it's Abby. I know you've been worried about me. You don't have to be ... I'm ok."
No response from Luka, just the quiet hum of the ventilator and the beeping of the monitors.
"Ok," said the nurse. "You need to go now. He needs to rest."
"And so do you," Susan reminded her.
Abby leaned back in the chair, and allowed Susan to push her back out into the hall and to the elevators.
-------
Susan dropped Abby in her room, leaving her in the care of the floor nurse. "I need to get back to work," she told her. "I'll stop by and see you in the morning before I leave, ok?"
"Yeah. Thanks Susan." Abby hesitated. "It really helped ... being cared for by a friend ... someone who does care about me."
Susan could only smile again, and left her alone with the nurse.
A shower. Abby desperately needed a shower. She knew enough to know that it was psychological. She wasn't really that dirty ... but knowing that didn't make the need any less real.
The nurse helped Abby into the shower, and she stayed there as long as she could, letting the hot water just flow over her, washing away some of the horrors of her evening. After perhaps half an hour, the nurse returned to help her dry off, dress and get into bed. A quick check of her vital signs, the sleeping pill, which Abby swallowed reluctantly, then she was left alone to sleep.
Abby was just drifting off, her back to the door, when there was a tap on the door, and a familiar voice saying her name.
"Aren't you working, Carter?" Abby asked softly, not turning to look at him.
"I'm on a break."
"It's after visiting hours."
"I know. I just needed to see you for a minute." She heard him take another step into the room.
"So you've seen me. Good night, John."
"Abby ..." She could hear the pain in his voice.
"Not right now." Quiet. Measured.
"When?"
"I don't know." Carter didn't answer, but she knew he was still there. "Shall I ring for the nurse and have her throw you out?"
"No. I'm going. Good-night, Abby."
Abby heard his footsteps leave the room, heard the door shut. Then she cried herself to sleep.