Title: Sometimes, Never Characters: Abbey POV. Gen fic.
Spoilers: Set at the end of Season 3, so all up to and including. There's also a nod to end Season Four/premier Season Five.
Notes: For lots of reasons; because witc who prods for Abbey, for raedbard who put her back in my head. Because my writing is going on a crazy journey of styles and ways and I've never really done an inside someone's head. Because I've been looking atan icon for a few days. Because I fail to be her. But most of all because I wish I had an Abbey of my own right now.
Sometimes, Never
She feels as though time has slowed down to the point of almost standing still. She knows that it is an absurd concept, a trick of the agitated mind and yet she finds herself making sure. She is counting under her breath, one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, breathe; she counts the repetitions off and checks her watch again. Exactly one minute later than when she began the ritual. Sighing, she turns once more to the window, craning her neck for a glimpse of the lights which would herald their arrival. Seeing nothing, she turns away disgusted.
She's not known for her patience but it's not the delay that's bothering her; it's the inaction, the fact that she can only stand by and wait. She is a doer, not a bystander and her inability to act now to fix things is what is driving her crazy. She wonders if the relatives of her patients feel like this when she is in surgery. Perhaps they only want to wait, grateful that someone else is doing something in which they can play no part; the burden lifted by another.
She'd originally been grateful to be away. Her husband's conversations had revolved around War of the Roses and the Welfare Bill for weeks and she really wanted it to be over. Ironic, she thinks now, that she was wishing the time away, when now it is dragging, delaying the point at which she can take control once more. If only time had shown the same elastic boundaries earlier that night. She reflects that it probably did.
The call had come through in the car and she'd been expecting a blow-by-blow account of the play, but from the moment she heard his voice she knew something was wrong. He was distracted as if he'd distanced himself from the night's events already, before even setting foot on the plane. She was shocked by his news but now, with time holding her up, she wonders what else was on his mind. And she wonders if she was the only one who knew how CJ had felt. At least time had permitted her the chance to gossip and tease the younger woman earlier in the day in a catch –up call.
He wouldn't let her speak to CJ, said that it wouldn't help right now. Sam had stepped into the breach with the press, and Abbey knew this was his gesture of love and support to his friend, when he could not find the words. She also knew the other wordsmith would not find his purpose so easily and demanded to speak to him. He'd been hard and monosyllabic but she was used to that and kept at him until she was sure he was ready. And then she'd called his wife.
And all of a sudden, time picks up its heels again. Lights and sound and she knows they have returned. She calms down now, knowing this last period of waiting is almost over, and as it passes it takes her impatience with it. She hears the three as they approach, voices raised and tumbling over one another, each with its own focus and aim, not listening to the others, and occupies herself by pouring tea, feigning indifference. They are still arguing as they come in, Jed throwing the door open leaving the other two to follow him into the room.
"Don't yell, I have a headache," she says, quietly, kissing him on the cheek in greeting.
"You need something?" he asks, brought up short.
"Yes. For you to take your loudness back to your office. CJ, sit down," she motions to the couch next to her, willing Jed to understand and comply without a fuss. Grateful when he nods and does so, quietly closing the door behind him.
"Sit down," she says again, then turns to Toby, lurking at the door, unsure of his place in this. She knows he is torn in all the mess. Like her, he is not patient to wait idle, but his actions come in other ways, from pen to paper, words formed and laid bare. He cannot open his mouth and speak them, they require a physical form, it is not his way, even though his heart may scream to.
She lets him off the hook, his job done. "Go see your wife."
He looks at CJ one last time, a hundred words on the tip of the pen in his head, before quietly leaving.
She looks at the woman opposite her, then sits down. "What were you arguing about?" she asks casually.
"Spin on Ritchie. We're assuming someone will look at his delay and put two and two together, plus the whole 'ordinary Americans' thing" CJ replies, looking somewhere past Abbey's shoulder. She continues to speak, giving Abbey the opportunity to look at her. She is pale, and clenching her fists to stop her hands from shaking. Abbey hates what they have turned her into. She has stood in the line of fire for each and every one of them, done it willingly and not just because her job required it. In many ways she is the linchpin that connects them all together, yet often she is left out on a limb herself, excluded or told half-truths. She loves her like a daughter and a sister because they have become family in a way she never expected. She will always feel guilty that they nearly let her fall, that she herself added to CJ's broken spirit purely because she was pissed at Jed. She won't forget that their hand had been forced and Leo had broken the news she'd vowed to tell herself, because her husband couldn't bring himself to. And she remembers the times they have both been there for the other, titles and positions cast aside for the need of friendship.
She's only listening with half an ear, and suspects CJ's not really listening to herself either.
"CJ, sit down."
"Abbey….I know what you're trying to do, I'm fine. I've got things to do."
"You know I hate it when you tower over me. Sit."
She complies and her body is tight and stiff and contained. She isn't trying to be brave she's just working.
"There's nothing that can't wait for a minute. "
"Toby spent the plane ride hovering, Abbey, you don't need –"
"I don't think you're such a hot judge of what you need right now. Or even of what you want."
"I want this day to be over. I want it never to have begun." A hairline crack in the wall she had begun to rebuild. Abbey nods gently.
"I'm good…but I'm not that good." It earns her a small laugh.
"One a year….we're going to start getting a reputation." The tone is more bitter than the words.
"We didn't lose Josh."
She looks empty and Abbey almost loses courage.
"It really is a beautiful dress, CJ" she says.
She finally breaks then, the compliment smacking into her and robbing her of breath as the passer by had done earlier. Abbey holds out her arms and sighs as CJ curls into them. A different cure than her normal routine for a broken heart, she thinks, stroking CJ's hair, murmuring hushed words of understanding and love.
Presently, the sobbing and shaking subsides and a muffled voice expresses an apology. Abbey releases her, cups her cheek softly as she sits up.
"Don't be sorry. You'd do the same for me. It's what friends gear up for."
"I would. I will."
And time settles back into its regular beat, pulsing on, forever in motion.