Author's inane babble: I believe I'm not the only one who felt there were a few things missing between the episodes "Skin" and "Only Connect". I was disappointed there was no reactions to Abby's being abby-napped (as opposed to being kidnapped), so as a result of my disappointment I wrote this.
Hey, it ain't Shakespeare, but it's here. Forgive me if it's awful, enjoy it if you will, hate it if you must, review it if you please.

I would be very much obliged. :)

Author's Disclaimer: I disclaim all… I do not own anything to do with ER. For one thing, I'm Aussie, and for another thing I am writing purely out of interest. Please, forgive me for both.
Actually, no, don't forgive me for being Aussie. I'm quite alright with that.

But please forgive me if I screw up any medical terminology. Because I am most definitely not a Doctor. And that is a good thing.

The Dark of the Night

Abby shivered in the cold Chicago air. It swept down into the ambulance bay, reaching right through her bloodstained scrubs, chilling and invasive – but she probably wouldn't have noticed were it snowing, or were there a hurricane tearing down the street. It would have taken a lot to move her at that moment.
She stood silently, watching the black SUV drive into the night, not daring to move or even breathe, for fear that they'd turn around and come back… come back and take her, take her out and finish the job.
But they didn't.
She couldn't see them any longer. It was over, as fast as it had begun. All over… there was nothing but the darkness of the street ahead, and the eerie lights of an ambulance, flashing red and blue as it sat motionless in the bay.

Had they seen any of it? Probably not. No one had.
She could just turn right around and go home, and maybe no one would ever know.

No one but her.

The tears seemed to keep on coming, but she didn't reach a hand to wipe them away. She left her arms, shivering, by her side, not even bothering to shield herself from the cold. Her breath crystallised as it left her mouth. She could practically see it in the air.

They'd just left her and gone. Just like that… just what she'd wanted. She'd been so sure they would have… no, she couldn't even begin to think of it.

Wordlessly, Abby Lockhart turned around, and started walking. Part of her did know exactly where she should go… she should go back to the ER. She should go back, and first things first let Susan know where she was. Susan, who was her boss, who would be wondering why she'd left mid shift. She should stop the rest of them from wondering… if they were wondering at all. It was a guilty thought, but Abby thought it anyway.

She knew where she should go, but knowing something was different from doing it. Besides, how could she go back? What did you normally do after something like this? Where were you supposed to go? What were you supposed to say? Absently, she remembered that she'd walked out in a huff, but it didn't seem to matter so much, anymore. Not compared to the fact that she was breathing… she was… alive. She, who saw death and pain everyday, was very much alive. She could have been… no. She wasn't.

Abby started in the direction of the large double doors. Towards the light.

It was cold… she noticed now, as she kept on walking, and kept on shivering. She started into a jog, faster… getting wherever she was headed in a hurry. She had to stop this thinking right away… it was dangerous. Had to stop it, had to do something. That was what she always did, right? Go to work, do something, anything to keep her mind off her troubles. Working was fine. It was easy to forget your life when you were working. Easy to forget that person you had been before you walked through those swinging doors, and so easy to forget while you were helping others how much you needed to help yourself.

It never lasted, though. The second you walked back into the air, you walked back into yourself… and you remembered. In the stillness of life outside the bustling hospital, you remembered. You remembered why you wanted to forget.

Perhaps she could leave it behind. If she could only leave it behind, if she could just try hard enough get away from it… maybe, just maybe, she'd forget. Maybe that part of her would stay right there, at the entrance to the bay. Maybe if she didn't stand on that corner ever again, she'd never remember. Maybe she'd go to bed, and wake up the same person she'd been that morning, go to work the next day, live life like she had before. Before? Maybe it would go away and just leave her alone… leave her for good. She'd barge through those swinging doors and be busy, once again.
Abby sniffled and wiped away the tears with the corner of her sleeve.

It didn't seem to be working… it was following her. She hugged her arms around her as she ran. If not to protect herself from the cold she now forget, then to try and protect herself from the memories. But not just the memories, which were all real enough… the feelings. The feelings were too real. She could still feel it, all of it, in so much detail, too much detail. Unable to escape, driving into the woods, their cold, dark eyes, the gun… oh god, the gun.

She stopped in her tracks, doubling over in the shadows of the ambulance bay. She was going to be sick.

Abby dropped to her knees, and heaved the contents of her stomach into a battered, steel garbage can. She couldn't remember when she'd last felt so terrible. She didn't get sick. Hadn't even had the flu in ages… barely even caught a cold. Something about being a doctor made her not want to be sick, ever. Well, those flu shots probably had a lot to do with it, too.

Could you get a shot for this type of sickness?

The sound of ambulance sirens squealed behind her, and rose into the night. They echoed between the cold brick walls, throbbing and pounding in her ears as she rested a shaky palm on her forehead. It was hot, but couldn't possibly have been – she felt so cold. With her free hand she tucked stray strands of hair behind her ears, and breathed deeply. The air inside her lungs felt cold, too, and the incessant tears kept on sliding down her face. Gingerly, she stood up and wiped her mouth.

Some part of her mind, the logical, rational Abby, wondered if throwing up had anything to do with post traumatic stress. Or that feeling in the pit of her stomach. That feeling that didn't want to go away. Logical Abby told her, like any good Doctor, to go inside the hospital. Go inside and sit down, grab something warm to drink, get settled and be checked over, be fixed up, be helped… logical Abby reminded her of every textbook she'd ever read and every note she'd ever made during med school. Various strands of medical terminology and procedures bubbled through her consciousness, haunting her, like a terrible instinct.
But the other part of her mind, the emotional, very human Abby, was telling her to get away. The part of her she tried to suppress when things got bad… the part of her she left behind when she was immersed in pure work, it wanted to take over. It wanted to get rid of logical Abby, and wanted to trash every textbook in creation. It wanted to make her go home, curl up in a ball, and forget everything she had heard and seen.
It must have been that feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she was boiling over… she clutched her stomach with one hand and leaned the other to steady herself against the cool bricks. How did you stop this sort of thing? She wondered feebly…

"Abby?"

Abby snapped out of her wonderings and jerked her head towards the sound of her name.

"Abby, Is that you?"

Susan Lewis stood at the open doorway to the ER. The brightness from the hospital lights shone behind her, framing her in a somewhat ethereal light, showing the stark whiteness of her lab coat beneath a thick overcoat, the warm coffee in her hand, and the complete and utter shock on her face.
Abby inhaled deeply, trying to stop the shaking in her shoulders… but it didn't work. Even her breath was shaky. Was it possible to feel so cold inside and out, when the pit of her stomach was boiling over?

"My God, Abby, what happened? You look like… Where were you? I thought…"

"I just… I'm sorry, Susan, I-" Abby croaked as she stepped forward into the light, feeling oddly exposed. And her voice sounded strange in the night air… it sounded too stark, too loud and unfamiliar. It didn't sound like her own.

Susan's eyes widened, as the light from the ER flashed on Abby's wet cheeks, and illuminated the dark stains on her scrubs.

"Stop it, Abby," she breathed as she set down her steaming coffee right she was standing and walked towards her. "You look like you're frozen… don't worry about anything, just tell me what happened, ok?"

Susan stood in the half-light, the concerned yet collected side of her nature taking over. Without another thought, she shrugged off her warm overcoat and draped it across Abby's shoulders. Abby looked rather small and forlorn inside Susan's thick coat, but she didn't reject the extra warmth. She didn't look up at Susan, however.

"Abby, look at me."

Abby didn't comply. She folded her arms tightly and looked away. Those tears were still coming… and irrational Abby was telling her to run away, telling her to get out before it hurt any more… telling her to laugh everything off, to go home and to forget. To come to work the next day, like nothing had happened. Just like she always did. Telling her only to survive… wasn't that enough?

Rational Abby tried to tell her to stay. Tried to tell her it would be a good thing… that she should look up, that she should go ahead, open up and tell Susan all…

"Abby," Susan said firmly but gently, "Look at me."

Rational or irrational, there was nothing she could do to refuse. Abby had to look up.

"Now," said Susan, laying her hands on Abby's quivering shoulders, "Tell me what happened."

Abby sniffled.

"What happened?" she mumbled with a cynical smile, looking away into the darkness as if it held the answer. It didn't. There was nothing there… nothing.

"Nothing."

"Yes it was something, Abby, now come on," Susan spoke evenly, trying to meet her eyes, "Abby, look at me. Tell me what's going on."

Abby swiped at her tears angrily. Why wouldn't they just go away? "I'm fine!" She snapped out loud, half without meaning to. Emotional Abby was welling inside her, making her shiver more than the cold. Why wouldn't she go away too? Abby lowered her head and pushed past Susan. She had to get out of here, had to go home, before things got worse…

"No, Abby, no you're not fine," Susan said defiantly, catching the escaping Abby by the arm.

"Now stop, and tell me what it is."

Abby wiped her eyes furiously with the corner of her sleeve. Damn it all, she knew it, they both did. Susan was right. Still, irrational Abby persisted.

"Susan," she began, trying desperately to remain in control. "It's nothing…"

And Abby's voice faltered, trailing off brokenly. There wasn't much use. She'd already made a mess of things. Logical Abby was leaving her… in one vain effort to hold onto her she rubbed her eyes again with a shaking hand. Susan looked sadly at her, meeting her furtive glances… and knew this wasn't the way to do things.

"Oh Abby, I'm sorry, come here…" She murmured, leaning over and mothering her friend into a hug. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… I'm sorry."

Abby flinched, and stood rigidly in Susan's arms. She readied herself to run away. Emotional Abby was overpowering… she was screaming at her. 'What do you think you're doing? You don't want to be held close, least of all by a friend who doesn't understand… how can she understand? You just want to be left alone, alone! Do you hear? ALONE!'

"It's ok." Susan said, sensing her guardedness and patting her on the shoulder, rubbing her on the back. "It's ok."

Perhaps it was the touch of a caring friend. Perhaps it was that Susan wasn't actually trying to understand… or perhaps it was because they both knew she was almost at breaking point, and anything could have sent her over the edge.
Whatever it was, it was too much. Abby gave in. She didn't have the energy left not to.

She felt her shoulders quiver, felt and heard her breath shake as she sucked in the cold night air… and didn't try to stop it. She felt the sobs course through her body, heard them out loud, and she surrendered… she just let them. She snivelled, breath coming in short, sharp gasps… she rested a weary forehead onto her boss's clean, starched white shoulder and sobbed. Only it wasn't her boss anymore, it was her friend. She sobbed like she was a little kid, not like she was the adult Abby Lockhart at war with herself. She let Susan rub her back gently, let her tell her she was going to be ok, and didn't protest. She felt herself, only somehow, it seemed so far away – being sat down onto the cold slats of a bench and held quietly. She felt it, though it didn't seem real any more. She vaguely heard someone call out… it must have been Susan, only it couldn't have been… She felt arms lift her, and carry her towards that light… she felt warm. Gradually, the tears slowed down, and she was asleep.

---

"So, what do you think it was?"

"Could have been anything. You don't… don't think she was attacked, do you?"

"Yeah, reckon it was some idiot out on the street. We should call the police, you know. Damn bums, who knows which one of us might be next? If we can't even take a break without-"

"Morris, dude… You're freakin' me out."

"Well what do you think it was then, huh? Ambulance ran her down? Yeah, like they'd run a Doctor down. Even if she was pissed off."

"A resident, maybe."

"What?"

"Hey, just a joke, man…"

"Ha. Ha. Real funny. You know, I have a real nice suture ready to go, blonde hair, long legs, the whole package, and I won't even give you one-"

"Guys, Doctor Lewis alert!"

"Will you people get back to your jobs, or do I have to increase your workload by handing out special 'bonus' charts? Each?"

"No, actually, we're quite busy-"

"Good. Then get busy."

"Yes Doctor Lewis."

"Interns…" Susan rolled her eyes and sighed under her breath as she watched them scatter with a distasteful expression. Sometimes she just refused to believe she'd ever been one… that she had somehow magically graduated to the ranks of fully fledged attending without so much as going through medical school. Or perhaps Interns just annoyed her because she was now expected to manage them? Or that they just had a particularly annoying group? Either way, she didn't like them right at that exact moment. They seemed too… nosy, and insect like. Specific ones, at least. Besides, patient satisfaction scores would never go up if the patients didn't even have a Doctor to fill out a form on.

Quietly, she opened the door to the room they'd been gazing into. With a few deft movements she drew the blinds to stop all curious eyes, and berated herself severely for not doing so before. That was the last thing everyone needed… rumours. Especially about a staff member, not just a staff member but her friend, who deserved her own privacy. Then hurriedly, she left… but not before glancing across at a sleeping figure with concern.