Author's Notes: Yes, I did steal one line of dialogue in this chapter, but only from the show, and only because I loved it first time around. The rest of it is unadulterated me, love it or hate it.
Secrets and Lies
Chapter 13
He closed his eyes, pretended to be asleep in order that the stewardess would pass him by. The inanity of flying was not something he could bring himself to tolerate.
He listened to the pilot's announcement – tuning into key phrases like the flight time. He couldn't bear if he was too late. If he let her down at this, the last hurdle.
As the plane began its ascent, images from five years ago began to flash against his eyelids. Of the things that had happened, and the people he had tied up in his sordid mess of life.
Things had been going OK until he graduated from medical school and matched at County. This began a downward spiral, brought the two stunning creatures he had loved and hurt so badly into his life.
He saw them now as he'd first seen them. Abby, a woman so fiercely independent, who was haunted but emboldened by her past. He tried to picture her, as she would be now. Broken and hopeless, and forever scarred. He tried to imagine how seeing her again would feel, but drew a blank. Would he really know until he was there?
And Neela – Abby's sidekick, the light to her dark, a complex soul with a good heart. A woman unlike any he'd ever met, still a girl at heart. Keen, intelligent, quick to learn but hopelessly naïve, sweet and so repressed. She had been brought up on books not looks, and thus had never considered herself beautiful. She'd been almost innocent. He'd shattered that, shown her the corrupt, dark side of life. She'd been a fallen angel when she'd left. Would she be there? Would he be brought face to face with her again?
Leave me alone,"
"Abby…"
He implored, trying to find a way through to her. But the shutters were down, the curtains were closed, and she had isolated herself from everyone.
"I think you'd best leave,"
Sam had guided him from the room with a hand on his back, playing the diplomat for once.
"Go home. You look like hell, and you aren't doing anyone any good here,"
The nurse stated quietly, but firmly, and he was in no mood to argue. He trailed himself home, the steps heavy and flat.
"Back so soon…"
Neela jumped when the door opened, and her words now sounded loaded with false levity and surprise.
"How's Abby?"
He could only shrug. He couldn't remember a day he had ever felt so dead inside, so cold and numb. Abby had been in a kind of pain he could never imagine, and he had been useless. So weighed down by his own guilt, and his own grief. She had shut off, shut down, because it was easier to cope that way.
"She…she's resting…"
He muttered, his words faltering.
"I'm so sorry,"
Her words were so genuine, he feared for a second she'd break him. He glanced over; saw her earnest, worried, probably deep down devastated expression. He couldn't cry, so he just shrugged again.
"Not your fault,"
He watched, frozen, as she rose from the sofa, crossed the space between them and met his gaze.
"Talk to me,"
She demanded, her tone hard and sharp round the edges suddenly.
"About what?"
"About the fact your baby just died,"
She snapped back, forcing him to hold her gaze, watching the impact her words had.
"Her baby just died,"
He corrected, and heard her sigh.
"It was, Neela, it wasn't mine, not in any real sense. You wouldn't guess it from the way she's acting either…"
He paused to catch his breath.
"She doesn't need me, and I feel so damned useless,"
"You and me both,"
She admitted sadly.
"She'll get through it, you know Abby,"
"I'm not sure I will,"
He saw her bite her lip at his complete honesty, to stop herself from crying. She clearly didn't feel it her place to cry.
"You will,"
She assured gently, one stray tear escaping. He hadn't seen her cry, didn't want her to in case she fractured his fragile resolve. He moved a hand to her face, felt her breath catch as he brushed the tear away with his thumb. She must have seen what he was about to do, because he heard her whisper.
"You don't want to do this,"
But he wasn't thinking any more. He was just reacting, trying hard to feel. And so was she. They kissed – it wasn't one sided. Neither of them moved first.
She had kissed him back. She never protested. She made it too easy for him. When his hands slid down her back and she pulled herself flush against him, their fate was sealed. It was wrong, viciously so, but there with her pressed against him, the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
He'd sought comfort in his then roommate. All her desire had bubbled forth, the intensity had overflowed, and they'd both been so caught up in feeling again it barely mattered that it was wrong.
Abby continued to push him away. He tried to help her, to be with her. Obviously, to the outside world they were still together. Abby believed they were still together, despite being so absorbed in her own pain she'd virtually ignored him. She was devastated, but she was isolated. No one could get through to her.
So, it became all about Neela. Every time Abby shunned him, it only served to push him closer to the "other woman" in his life. And she'd been vital and alive when he'd needed someone the most. She'd reacted to him. The connection was real…sometimes, too real.
Her dusky skin was still impregnated with the scent of the previous night, he noted, as he bent to kiss her. He kissed the left side of her neck, knowing exactly how it would make her melt. She dropped the knife she held, and it clattered to the floor.
"Don't…."
She moaned softly. He smiled against her neck, and did it again. He felt her try to twist away, deny herself and deny him.
"Don't what?"
He whispered mischievously, a hand sliding to the opening in the front of her robe.
"You know what,"
She mumbled breathlessly.
"You weren't complaining last night,"
She'd teased him to the point of distraction physically. But he'd known her weak spots seemingly instinctively. Being with her was simple. Being with her was…natural. It was the way it had been with Abby at first. He shivered just thinking about it. Was it love? He supposed it must have been, for him to do that. He still loved Abby, but he fell in love with Neela. It was different, it was dangerous, and it was a distraction from the anguish and stress. She was exotic and new and infinitely corruptible.
He supposed he always knew it could never last. That it all had to come unstuck. And they did, 3 months on, in a store cupboard of all sordid places. Sam's piercing gaze when she looked at him then…the mere thought was enough to make him cold inside. The pure, unadulterated hatred he saw in her eyes. He knew things could only go from bad to worse.
"Sam…come on, this is unprofessional,"The nurse rounded on him, shoulders back, eyes flaming defiantly. He stopped suddenly to avoid cannoning into her.
"I'm unprofessional?"
She spat accusingly. He knew she knew, and in that moment it was all too clear what she thought of him.
"Like it or not, Sam, we work together. What you think of me personally shouldn't be an issue,"
He tried to keep his tone even. Sam's gaze was unflinching. Her next words were deliberately weighted to be cutting.
"You said it. We work together. We're not married. Professional is personal,"
And she'd been right. Sam was involved in it through no fault of her own. She despised him; it was crystalline in her eyes every time he met them. He couldn't blame her. She was caught up in something that would only bring pain, and she was lying about it. He knew she wasn't lying about it to spare him, but to spare Abby and Neela.
So, he'd left. A year after it all unravelled, he'd quit County and transferred over to Mercy. He'd gone where no one knew him. He'd escaped, as Neela had. The only one trapped had been Abby.
He cannot justify what he did. There is no rational explanation behind his actions. How can there be when things were as intense and painful as they had been? And now he was flying right back into the middle of it all. He was sick with fear. Could people hold hate in their hearts for 5 years? Could he really watch her die?