If Only
Chapter 12 – Reassessment
This was too much. I think my emotions are going to rip me apart if I don't get out of this right now.
"I mean it, Abby." He's still setting his sincere brown eyes on me, a look of determination adorning his handsome features.
"I can't deal with this." I hear myself whisper, backing up and away from his reach. I know I must look distressed because his hurt expression turns to one of concern as he watches me, hoping for an answer to something I don't yet know.
"I'll go." Carter says eventually, but I don't move until I hear the door close behind him, finally leaving me alone. But now I have no idea how to face this, whether to laugh or cry. The last two years, going back to Medical School, watching Carter return to the hospital with a pregnant girl on his arm, all of it… it was based on a lie.
Standing somewhat shakily, I make it to my bedroom and collapsed on the bed in exhaustion.
"Hey, Miss – Miss? Are you a Doctor?"
I realise I'd been staring at the same chart in front of me for ten minutes and look up to see a young teen cradling his arm against his chest. "Sorry, yeah." I stand and round the admit desk to take a look at the boy's arm, before showing him to a bed. He tells me he has to leave soon and that he can't be late home. I manage to pry his name from him after a little debate over anonymous care. "This looks pretty bad, Thomas. What were you doing?" I continue to assess the fracture as I talk to him with a smile, hoping he will relax a little. His hesitance to respond gets my guard up and as I finish the exam I tell him I'll be right back.
"Chuny," I spot the dark-haired nurse two beds over. "The kid in bed seven, Thomas Brevy. Can you keep an eye on him for a few minutes, make sure he doesn't leave?"
"Sure, no problem."
I go in search of Susan or Luka, eventually finding Susan headed out on a coffee run. "Hey can you come see one of my patients? He's thirteen, seems- "
"Sorry, Abby, I'm meeting Chuck. Carter! Hey, Carter!" She's called him over before I can stop her and asked him to go in her place. I really wasn't kidding about my luck; it defies logic that I can have such bad timing all my life.
"I think it could be abuse, he seems skittish and definitely doesn't want to be here longer than he has to. Appears to be older bruising on his chest and he couldn't tell me where he got them from." As I hand him the chart his hand closes over mine accidentally as he takes it from me, causing my eyes to jolt to his before I can stop myself. He sends me a gentle smile before averting his eyes to look over Thomas's chart.
"You pulled his chart?"
"Yeah, haven't had it back yet. There's definitely something going on. He's scared, Carter."
"So you want a second opinion?" He asks me as he flips through the coloured pages of Thomas's exam.
"He wasn't keen to say much at all, maybe he'd be more comfortable with a male doctor?" I suggest, not wanting to word this sixth-sense type of feeling I had about this kid.
He nods, straightening his 6'1 frame and turning his head to look for my patient. Carter follows me into the teen's room, waiting until I have introduced him to Thomas before he speaks.
"Okay, Thomas, Abby tells me you've hurt your arm?"
He nodded his dark-blonde head, watching Carter cautiously as he had done with me earlier. "I… fell over at school today."
"Your parents know where you are? Or did someone from your school bring you here?"
"No, I came by myself."
"It's okay, Thomas, we just want to help you." Carter's soft voice appealed to him. There are very few doctors I know who can invoke trust as fast as John Carter in a skittish patient, and I can't help but admire that about him. "You want us to call your folks?"
Thomas shook his head quickly. "No, it's just me and Dad. He's at work."
"Is there anyone else we can call to come sit with you?" I ask gently, meeting his piercing blue gaze, his eyes belying his thirteen years.
"No." His reply is too rapid, and Carter shares an acknowledging glance with me, obviously having picked up the same vibe I had on this kid's story.
"You know you can tell me anything you like, Thomas. It'll be confidential."
"I…" he flinches as Carter presses a tender spot on his stomach. "I just need to get home."
"How did you get these bruises? They look painful." Carter asks with a placating smile.
"I play football."
I share another glance with Carter and we leave Thomas alone, stepping out into the busy hospital hallway. A movement in my peripheral vision causes me to look back through the blinds of his room, and I notice the distinctly distraught expression on the young teen's face.
"Wait for the films to come back but I think we might need a social services consult." Carter holds the chart out to me, and I can feel his eyes watching me as I stare through the blinds at Thomas.
"You think it's abuse?"
"Could be, or maybe he just gets nervous around hospitals, wants to get out of here." He suggests lightly.
"Yeah I know that feeling." I reply with a wry smile, signing the chart to authorise the tests I'd ordered. I look up finally to meet his eyes, turning to leave as I thank him for his help.
He's giving me that soft smile again, catching my arm before I can make an escape. "Hey, Abby. I'm sorry about last night, I shouldn't have put so much pressure on you."
"You didn't mean what you said then?" I know I'm being awkward, but I'm not sure I can believe he's had feelings for me throughout the last year despite our respective situations. Mostly because I'm not sure I want to face it.
"Of course I meant it. Just…" He folds his arms, and sighs as he looks down to the floor. He holds my gaze with those intense brown eyes, and I feel the familiar sensation of wanting to kiss him bubble up inside me. "Just tell me if you want to get coffee and pie sometime, okay?"
"Sure." I nod self-consciously, but he's the one to break the moment as he moves away down the crowded corridor. I find myself watching his back as he moves away, wondering if I'm about to make another of my signature bad judgements.
"Abby, that kid in seven is leaving." Malik told me quickly as he stuck his head round the door. I'm in the middle of stitching a woman's forehead, so I have to call out to Malik to stall him. I spot Thomas with a middle-aged man propelling him forwards towards the ambulance bay doors.
"Thomas!" As he turns I notice the clearly anxious expression on his face, but they both wait until I catch up with them before moving. "Thomas, I haven't set your wrist yet. If you leave it won't heal properly."
"Haven't got time, lady. I'm missing work for this." The man, who I'm guessing is Thomas's father, barely looks at me as he snaps and pulls his son forward.
"Sir, your son needs treatment for his arm. If you'll just- " I move with them, feeling my limited supply of congeniality swiftly running out.
"Look, the kid's fine. I'll fix him up myself when I get home from work."
"It won't take long, sir. Just stay here for a little longer while I wait for his x-rays to come back." I try to appeal to the man patiently, but don't quite manage to keep the irritation out of my voice at his hostility.
This time he ignored me completely, reaching the doors with Thomas. Deciding to try one last time, I hurry after them and I don't notice Carter coming out into the bay behind me.
"Sir," I grasp the taller man's shoulder, hoping to at least gain eye contact. "Could you- "
Suddenly he whips around and I feel a firm hand squarely hit me in the chest, pushing me backwards forcefully. The shove sends me backwards and I stumble, falling backwards before I can rebalance myself. Stupidly I put my left arm out to break my fall, landing awkwardly.
I see them both rounding the corner, letting out a frustrated sigh as a sharp pain shoots through my arm.
"Abby!" Carter's voice pulls me out of my daze and I try to stand up. He's beside me in a second, helping me get up from the hard ground.
"Who called his father?" I ask impatiently, as Carter tried to hold on to my arm long enough to check for a fracture. "Carter, my arm's fine."
"Just be quiet and sit on a bed for two minutes while I check, okay?" From the tone in his voice I can tell I won't win this one.
"I can look after myself, you know," I complain, tiredly running my right hand over my hair and letting out a wince as he presses against my elbow. "Well, usually."
He flashes me a grin, his warm hands sending shivers up my arm. "It's not your fault, Abby. He's a kid with a few bruises, chances are he got into a fight at school and didn't want his dad to know about it."
"Maybe he'll bring him back after work."
"Check his films when they come back, apart from that there's not much else you can do."
I study his hairline as he continues to check my forearm, a thought suddenly occurring to me. "You came out into the bay to check on me, didn't you?"
His lop-sided smile is guilty as he pretends to be enthralled with the exam.
I sigh, a smirk creeping on to my face. "Okay, Carter you win."
"Win what?" He lifts his head to meet my eyes. "Do I get a prize for this one?"
"Depends what you would class as a prize." I tell him secretively. "It doesn't feel like a fracture."
I watch with amusement as the confusion momentarily crosses his handsome face from my changing tacks so quickly. "No, just a bad sprain."
"So now I can prescribe myself some common sense in dealing with angry fathers and be on my way." Shifting off the bed, I test my aching right arm and smile at Carter.
"Do I have to guess what I've won?" The boyish grin is back, coupled with a light annoyance I claim as mine due to the amount of times I've caused him to look at me with that expression.
"Coffee and pie? I'm off in an hour." I clarify as I stand next to him, watching as he rises to surpass my height.
"There are two problems with that."
"Really, what exactly would they be?"
"One, you should go home and rest your arm. And two, I'm covering Susan's shift for another hour after mine finishes, which means I'm on for another three hours."
I can't tell if he's kidding, but he laughs at my surprised expression.
"How does a home-cooked masterpiece of meal sound instead?"
"Like someone's delusional about their catering skills." I smirk, crossing my arms across my chest, wincing as I remember my sore arm.
"My place, 8 'o' clock?" He offers with a charming smile.
"Will I get a lecture about my arm?"
"Will you listen?" He counters.
An irresistible urge to kiss him overcomes me, and I peck him on the lips fleetingly, enjoying the amazed expression I receive in return. "See you then."
Thanks so much for the reviews and I'll try to get the next chapter up soon! Who wants angst and who wants fluff? Lol. I'll try to cater for both!