This is just a short little drabble from Abby's POV on her life and herself. Your opinions are always welcome and... enjoy :- )

I own nada sadly... all belong to NBC and John Wells.

Moonlight filters through the windows bathing my apartment in a soft white glow.

I know it's late because I crashed on the couch at around two and it's still dark. Strangely my labcoat is draped over me, I'm not sure why I brought it home or why it's being used to comfort and keep me warm.

Though somehow I take comfort in the white doctors coat ... with my name scrawled on the left breast.

The comfort comes from knowing that I'm doing it, I'm making it and all on my own.

No one helped me get here, well maybe someone prompted me but that's beside the point.

I've been a doctor for a little over a year now and a nurse for as long as I can remember. I have those credentials and they give me power. I know that I achieved both without help, from Maggie, from Eric, even from Carter.

My gaze encompasses the majority of my small apartment and some things standout above most others.

Pictures standout the most:

Pictures of the ER staff, both candid and posed. From holidays, birthdays, and simple lulls in activity. There are pictures of Luka and me, Carter and me, Susan and me, and several of me with other friends. Some are of me alone or at least when I thought I was alone.

I can tell the contrast between me with my friends and me alone.

Me with Carter, Luka, Susan make me appear happy, makes us appear close. And we are close...

But the photos of me by myself look natural, that's sort of sad now that I think about it.

Maybe it's because that for as long as I can remember it has been me by myself.

I took care of Eric when we were kids, by myself. I took care of Maggie when I was a kid and now as an adult, again struggling alone despite company. There was my attack and subsequent exam thereafter where I was again alone. Susan was there but I was still alone. With Luka and Carter I was alone and getting through these past two years of training to be a full-fledged resident has been me alone.

Damn, I'm alone a lot!

I imagine much of this isolation is my own doing.

Can I be blamed though?

I'm not asking anyone to pity me, if anything pity is my biggest pet peeve and personal embarrassment.

I didn't have a dad and I didn't really have a mom either, I was the mom taking care of a big kid who was sick and a little kid who wanted to be hugged and loved and taken care of by his birth mom.

Alone I cared for us and refused anyone's help because I didn't want anyone to know.

Alone I struggled through relationships because I couldn't and still can't fully allow anyone to see all of me.

That's the root of my problem- I can't let anyone see all of me.

I never could.

If I let people see all of me it would mean that I would be open to getting hurt, that someone could use how I feel against me or throw my feelings back in my face.

Let's face it: The risk is just too high.

A shrink would tell me that it's a lonely place to be and I won't argue with that, but when you've been in that place for so long you get used to it.

I know that everyone worried about me after my kidnapping and I know that Susan felt bad about what went on between us that night. They all looked stunned when I stumbled in to the ER.

After everyone's questions I sort of just floated home without giving anyone any answers except no I wasn't hurt, I'm fine, and I just want to go home. I think the only thing I'd really supplied was that I'd been kidnapped but that I was OK.

Then I went home.

Now I'm really and honestly doing well.

But still, life's going pretty good but I still have difficulty being honest if I'm having an off day for some reason or no reason at all.

For now I will still only divulge my emotions to the dark. For now I will only trust the night and only will the night know...

FINISHED