Authors Note- Busy week. Finished this chapter miracoulsy though. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and who read, you know the drill.

The minute my plane leaves the groud I am regretting my decision. Is this really what I want to do? I'm not sure anymore. What I am going to see over there is going to be more powerful, depressing and captivating than anything I have ever seen in my life. The way lives are lead in this country are going to be completely different then the life I have been leading for the past thirty-five years.

I expect an eye opener.

Huge eye opener.

So here I sit during the last few mintues of my flight, I am prepared to be thrown into anything, at least that's what I keep telling myself. I close my eyes and try to will my heart into beating at a natural, normal rhythm. Right now, if it went any faster I'm certain it would break through my chest cavity. The moment my eyes close I see what I have been trying to avoid seeing; our bodies in a tangle of sheets. His face when he saw me creeping out of the apartment. The way he called my name, grabbed at me, but he couldn't stop me, couldn't stop the inevitable.

So now here I sit, wishing I was back with him, in his arms. A place I know I will probably never be again. A man who is more amazing than I deserve. I open my eyes, looking out the window, hearing the drone of the flight attendants voice as she monotones the horrids we are about to see.

As people begin to file out of the plane I stay in my seat, not able to move. I can't believe that I did this. Here I am, unable to move, but here. In this war torn country, one of which I know nothing about, other than the odd thing I may see on CNN on my off days. Oh god, what have I done. I don't know what I am walking into. I am walking blindly into a war torn country. I look around me, my head spinning, my eyes searching for a friendly face. All I get is the annoyed look of the blond flight attendant who has shoved her hair in my face, as she leans down to my level.

"Ms. can you please exit the plane now."

I look up at her, searching for more than the obvious of what she wants. Reassurance. If only she could tell me that I have done the right thing. Of course turning to her for support is probably not the best idea.

"Ms." She taps her foot now. "Ms. The plane has landed, you are going to have to leave." I nod, not moving. She taps her foot once more. "Look," her voice rising, she is obviously indignant with me. "Do I need to call for security?"

"No!" Hello, voice welcome back. I grip the arm rests, "I- uh- I'm ready." I ease myself out of my seat slowly, I can feel the attendants eyes boring into me. I grab my carry on bag from the overhead compartment. Holding my bag tightly to my chest I leave the plane. I walk into the overwhelming heat, staring out into oblivion. I watch as other passengers push by me into the small airport. Soon I follow them, through the corridors, into the jam-packed airport. Too small for the amount of people.

I make my way to the luggage and grab the small bag I brought. I look around, lost for what my next move should be. The airport is flooded with unfamiliar faces, all with the same empty gazes. I spot a man holding a sign- Abby Lockhart it reads; how cliche is the first thing that comes to mind, the second is to run to him, throw my arms around him and beg him to free me from this world. One I willingly stepped into. I fight the urge to grab him, I do walk froward though. I take in the tall gangly man. His face full of stumble, his eyes dark and emotionless.

"Abby Lockhart?" His voice deep, as he stares at me, his face experssionless. I nod, unable to answer. He nudges his head to the right, signalling for me to follow him. I do. He leads me to a small car, one that is far to compact for the three people in it. He points towards the back seat. I sit next to a tall man, who smiles at me. The man, who lead me to the car, slams the door shut, smacking the trunk, as the driver takes off into the street. I watch the man fade into the distance a little bit scared.

"Hi I'm Michael." He sticks his hand out as far as it will go in the cramped space. I smile at him, shaking his hand.

"Abby." I reply. He gives me the once over, and proceeds to talk to me.

"You ever been here before?"

I shake my head, "first time."

"Me too." He smiles shyly. "My girlfriend was not pleased..." His voice trails off for a second. "I assume you're here with doctors without borders." I nod my reply. "Me too. I geuss I should have said that from the beginning." He laughs a little bit, obviously nervous. "We got in this huge fight before I left...I'm sure she'll get over it." The look in his eyes tells me he is unsure of this, but I smile back at him.

"I know how you feel." I grin.

"Boyfriend?"

"Not exactly... But I understand, both of you." He stares at me for a moment, as though he is contemplating what I have told him, before he accepts it and gazes out the window.

The small vehicle plows through the city, into a deserted looking area, I glance around me. Great, this would be a good place for this cab driver to shove us out of the car and shoot us. Michael must be feeling the same thing as I am, becuase he turns and looks at me.

"I've been trying to set my self up to expect anything. But I am a little freaked out."

"That's an understatement," I say nervously.

He smiles back at me. His smile uneasy, but neither of us seem to have anything more to say as the car bounces down the dusty road. My fingers nervously fiddle with the freyed ends of my bag. I try to think of anything but the adventure I am embarking on. Carter pops back into my mind. He seems to be doing that a lot lately. I wanted to crawl back in bed with him this morning. I wanted to never get out. But the logical side of me forced me out of bed. I knew it was wrong. I never should have done that. But I just could not resist myself. I have held back for months now. Sitting back letting whoever else wants him, have him. But he belongs with me. He was mine.

My John.

My Carter.

I know we can never go back to what we had before. And I know I probably dug us into a deeper hole by not resisting him. But those brown eyes, the way his hands glided up and down my body. The way his lips set me on fire. Every inch of his body. His hot skin on mine, sent tingles down his spine. God, he's beautiful. I won't be seeing him for two weeks though. Two long weeks. Long lonely weeks. Though, I can't imagine things being much better between us when I get back. His last words to me were too harsh for there to be even a morsale of hope.

"If you go that's it. I can't take you running from me anymore Abby. Don't run from me."

The last thing I heard was the sound of the door clicking shut. The sound of our future going down the drain. But it was for the best. He's unstable. Whatever future we may have had it wouldn't have been for long. Short lived. I can't risk my heart for something like that anymore. I've done brief. I don't want brief anymore, and I especially do not want brief with him. Of all the people. Not him.

The cay hitting a pot hole shakes me out of my reveire. I look to see us pulling into a shack like area. There are people rushing about, but the structure is falling apart. The door seems to be missing the handle, windows have been broken, and I can't even begin to explain the way the roof is collapsing, not to mention the walls.

Jesus.

I stare for a moment before a man, with a shaggy beard and piercing eyes, rips open our door. His english accented voice catches me off gaurd at first.

"Michael Timmons, and Abby Lockhart?" He asks in a rushed manner.

"I'm Dr. Ben Richson. You can call me Ben." We both nod, as he takes my bag from me and signals for us to grab our stuff out of the back. "I'll show you to your rooms, and then I need you to get to work. We just had a base attacked and we will be having many wounded men brought here." As he speaks more cars begin to pile in. I watch for a second before Michael pulls on my arm bring me out of my thoughts and rushing me into a safer area. For the time being. We drop our stuff into different cabins, we are hurried out again.

Ben pushes a patient at Michael and drags me into a room. A patient is lying on a gurney, his leg gone, blood is spilling around him, his face covered in marks and bruises and he appears to have a gun shot wound in his left shoulder. Ben gives me the bullet, and leaves me with two nurses, and wondering what I got myself into.

Review Responses

Tracey- Hey back:)! I decided on the Iraqi story line a while ago. I have an idea of how I am gonna play it out. I hope everyone enjoys it!

Carbybubbles- Hey I'm glad you like it. I hadn't updated in a while, but I plan to update more over the summer.

noisemaker- Heh a lot of people are saying they like this new story line.

striker20- Thank you very much.

Soaringmunkymuffins- heh. I do swear a lot. haha. (only in my writing though.)

Heather-renne- Haha thanks. Yeah Africa story line doesn't really fit in this story.