"Deluge"
A/N: I own nothing. In fact, none of this is original, I have merely taken three scenes we have already seen on the show and bent them a little to my will. It is not wishful thinking. It is not even what I expect to happen. It is simply one possible outcome. I've also borrowed three beautiful song titles. Thank you to those of you who have been kind enough to comment on my previous stories and to the lovely people on the C&P board. Special thanks to Kyrie for her kind comments and for providing a fitting overall title for my mini series of vignettes.
"Tanhayee"
Shapes swirl before her eyes as she stares lifelessly at the ceiling. The patterns weave their dance. Prying her gaze away she looks on the figure sleeping peacefully beside her. His deep even breathing indicative of dreamless sleep. The clock ticks on the nightstand. She exhales.
Pushing back the comforter her feet swing away from the bed until they touch down noiselessly upon the floor. She slips from the sheets and pads silently across the carpet. On reaching the bathroom she closes the door behind her. A butterfly returning to its cocoon.
The February air chills her bare arms as she sits down upon the bath side, fingers clawing tight around its edges. And she wonders how she reached this place; how it is possible to simultaneously have both all and nothing you ever wanted. Her right hand rests upon her abdomen, just above the seed sown in loneliness. And she wonders. Wonders how a patient she let herself become too attached to, an unusually successful attempt to hail a cab, and a faulty contraceptive device transformed themselves into the bundle of cells dividing within her belly. And not for the first time her mind casts itself back to three years before, to an empty restaurant and chocolate souffle, and tries to recall what it was she said that made him change his mind.
Tears leak from beneath her lids until they cascade down her cheeks in torrents. She hides her face in her hands to muffle the sound. As her body begins to cater for two, Abby has never felt so alone.
"Kothbiro"
A cacophony of sound erupts from the lounge, the likes of which would awaken the wrath of Weaver, if she wasn't a key contributor. Abby's pregnancy is sub rosa and so, naturally, the entire staff knows. Pink and blue balloons bounce off the walls and ribbons stream from the ceiling brushing against excited bodies in a bustling baby shower. Stage centre is Abby smiling with a glow that only the anticipation of motherhood brings as she rips off the brightly coloured paper to reveal her gifts. Luka sits watching her, enraptured, occasionally breaking his vigil to acknowledge the congratulations of various nurses. Sam is notable by her absence.
Five minutes later claustrophobia begins to overwhelm Abby. She is unaccustomed to being the centre of attention. Excusing herself, to check on a patient, she slips out into the cool of the corridor. And finds herself walking straight into him.
For a moment she fears her eyes are deceiving her and so she closes them but when she reopens them he's still there.
"Carter!" she exclaims and impulsively hugs him before drawing back coyly.
"What are you doing here?"
He shrugs noncommittally, "I missed Chicago." He stares at the soft stuffed elephant in her hands and gestures towards the lounge. "What's going on? It sounds like there's a herd of them in there."
She twists the tail nervously.
"It's..." she begins still not meeting his eye. She had thought telling Luka was hard but she would do that ten times over if it would only excuse her from this difficult scenario. "It's a baby shower," she informs him.
"For who?" he asks nonchalantly.
Looking up she meets his brown eyes.
"For me. I'm pregnant."
A thousand emotions whitewash his face before surprise and happiness outcompete the others for control of his lips. But they fail to colonize his eyes.
"Congratulations," he breathes perfunctorily.
She smiles in thanks.
Questions bubble below the surface. "Who's the lucky guy?"
The smile fades and her mouth opens to respond.
"Luka!" Carter exclaims as he spots the tall Croatian sidling out of the lounge.
"John!' he responds in kind before shaking the other man's hand. "When did you get back?"
"Last night," Carter informs, "I thought I'd check in and catch up on the County gossip. It seems I've missed out on a few things," he continues, indicating towards Abby.
Luka places his arm around her waist, grinning, "that you have." He stoops and places a delicate kiss upon her cheek. Realization dawns upon Carter's face.
Abby has never felt more uncomfortable.
"Well congratulations again," Carter says, shuffling uncomfortably on the spot," I'd better get gone now, I promised my father that I'd drop in before nightfall."
"Won't you come in and say hello to everyone?" Luka asks surprised.
Carter shakes his head, "maybe another day, I really have to run, tell them I miss them all." His eyes burn into Abby.
He steps away before turning back to the tableau of Abby in Luka's embrace, "take care of yourselves," he says softly.
Her voice is lost and she can only nod, crestfallen, as she watches him walk away, again, into the rain.
"Dil Chahta Hai"
Rip roaring thunder echoes around the room followed, predictably, by the soft fall of rain. She continues staring out, at some ill-defined point, as the wind rattles against the pane.
A cough.
Abby lifts her head towards the unrecognizable nurse who has just entered.
"Dr. Kovac is here."
Sighing, Abby crinkles her nose and shakes her head. "Tell him I'm sleeping," she speaks flatly.
The nurse scuttles away.
Time passes.
A baby cries some way down the hall. Rain pelts down harder onto the sidewalk. A siren fades into the distance. A faint knock.
She looks up, fearing Luka has come back, as the door swings open. An excuse hangs upon her lips but drifts away as the man steps out of the shadows.
"Hey," whispers Carter.
A ghost of a smile graces her lips.
He walks over and perches on the side of her bed, dropping dried flowers onto the nightstand. She fiddles with the bed sheets.
"It's raining another lake out there," he comments quietly. He knows she will talk if and when she is ready.
She appreciates his normality. "Who's covering my shift?" she asks hoarsely.
"Neela pitched in," he replies, "I think she'd like to come see you too."
"I told Coburn that I didn't want any visitors," she remarks.
Somehow they both know that he is excluded from this caveat.
He lifts her hand delicately with his palm and gently strokes her fingers. She squeezes back tightly as tears begin to sting her eyelids.
"I spent so long worrying," she begins in a child-like tone, "worrying that I wasn't ready, worrying that the baby would be bipolar, worrying that I wouldn't be a good mother." Her voice cracks as a tear slides out from her, now red-rimmed, eye. "And I'm old! So I fretted about trisomies, had amniocentesis, I never thought... I never thought he would..." More tears leak from their native spring.
He laces her fingers between his own. "Abby," he breathes, "CMV is ubiquitous, you couldn't have prevented this."
She sniffles. "Coburn thinks I must have contracted it from one of the kids in the ER, probably before I even knew I was... pregnant." She stares at him as the weight of the word bears down upon her. The realization of all she has lost burdening an already heavy heart. He has never seen her look so broken.
Carter leans forward and brushes his lips across her brow wishing he could kiss the ache away. Chest heaving, Abby crumples into him, the one person who truly understands her pain, and finally allows herself to cry.
A/N 2: For those of you who like to know that sort of thing, the subtitles translate (to the best of my knowledge) as "Loneliness", "It's Going To Rain" & "The Heart Wants".