*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When I saw the break of day
I wished that I could fly away
Instead of kneeling in the sand
Catching teardrops in my hand
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Abby kicked at the door with the heel of her boot. "Come on you sonofabitch, open -sesame..." Muttering under her breath, she abused the door to get it to open. As she tossed her keys on the table, Abby reflected on her day. Her sober day.
This would be.... thirty-seven? No, thirty-six, that's right. Thirty-six days; clean and sober. Would'a been thirty-six days as a non-smoker, too -if it hadn't been for that, that...roll in the hay? With...him; with Carter. "Well, I could use a drink," she announced, to no one. Pulling her boots off, she headed for the kitchen. "Let's see," glancing in the fridge, "we have a half-full carton of milk," sniffing, Abby sputtered, "Auugh, better let the help finish that carton off," pouring the milk down the disposal, "and some tomato juice from.... last spring's Nurse's Breakfast..." dropping the can in the trash, "...and, aha! some orange juice that looks like it may have come from this year -We have a winner!" Grasping the carton, Abby reached for a glass. Thinking better of it, she tipped the carton to her lips.
One lone swallow dripped into her mouth. "Ahhhh! Good to the last drop." Hmmm, maybe coffee wouldn't be so bad. She hadn't been sleeping very well anyway. She pried at the coffe can lid with still-cold fingers. Mere coffee dust clinging to the insides of the can, reminded Abby; it was Carter's turn to buy java. But he hadn't been around. And she hadn't been home to notice the lack of brewable coffee. Between impromptu meetings with her sponsor and extra, mind-numbing shifts at the ER, (she took extra night shifts; Carter was on days...) she hadn't logged too many miles with either her kitchen or her pillow.
Flopping down on the couch, Abby absentmindedly fiddled with the tv remote. Nothing on. Nothing to distract the mind from pesky little thoughts that she was trying to steer clear of, right now. As the second thought of a drink began to tickle the edges of her mind, she decided to call her sponsor.
"Hey, Elle -it's me. It too late?" She had yet to call when it was. But, still, nice to ask.
"Hello, Abby, everything alright?" Elle's voice soothingly stroked her ear.
"Oh...yeah. Everything's okay. I just... well -I'm having a moment of weakness and didn't want to start drinking the vanilla. You know, the usual..." She knew Elle saw through her attempts at humor. But, hell, it made her feel a little less... foolish, somehow.
"So. Tell me."
Elle Pierce was the closest thing to a best friend Abby had in a long time. Cool, unflappable, sharp. she always encouraged Abby to cut to the chase; and, yet, never seemed brusque or insensitive. As her sponsor, Elle insisted Abby call anytime, anytime at all, and she meant it. Abby turned to her when Carter left for Africa; and, now, she was calling on her friend when he came back.
"Well, uh... yeah." Not knowing how to broach the subject with her, Abby grew silent. Elle maintained the quiet, yet Abby could tell she was listening. Waiting patiently. "Okay, um, he's back... He came directly to my place and used his key to get in. I woke up and there he was, just sitting on my bed..." Abby faltered. The image of John, hunched over, his back quaking with soul-deep sobs, tugged at her. Fighting back her own tears, she closed her eyes and let the image play out.
"That's good, right?"
"No! I mean, yes... well -I'm glad he's alive, Elle, but he LEFT me. He said nothing was right in his life -including me. After the last couple of months, I don't know why I was surprised... We didn't talk, not really... didn't listen to each other..." Her voice trailed off. And then, thoughtfully, "He made it pretty clear... that we were over. I don't think I even had a say in the matter... He wouldn't let me defend myself, and obviously I did SOMEthing wrong, ya know? And then, he just shows up and, what? -he misses me, right? It's not fai-"
"Abby, slow down... are you angry because he left or angry because he came back?"
"Both!" Sucking in her breath, Abby broke into rough laughter. " I know! I am being childish, right? That's why I called you, dear Sponsor! I sound insane right now -how'm I supposed to talk to him about how I feel when I am confused by the way I feel?"
"Well, did something happen...? Other than he let himself in, now you're angry at his presumption...?"
This was it. The big, fat question. What HAD happened? Try as she might, she couldn't not think of Carter. His body; his lips; the reverent way he ravaged her. The experience was etched not only in her mind, but almost... in her body as well. If it was possible, she could still feel... him. A blush crept up her face at the mere thought. Simultaneously, she felt this was crazy. Crazy. This was Carter, after all. From the start, she had trouble responding to him as a lover. Sometimes she felt older, more jaded... Sometimes she thought he seemed... inexperienced. Other times, she felt he was half boy, half man. Never, in all the time they spent as a couple had she ever felt... inspired... by the sex. Their conversations lingered in her head, mingled and mixed with deeper emotions in her heart... But the sex? That was incidental. It... was an accepted part of the relationship.
Since "it" happened, however... She hadn't been able to shake the thoughts, the residual sensations of it. Clearing Trauma Two yesterday, she was startled from one such reverie by none other than the man/boy himself. Nearly dropping the handful of used vials and bumping into the crash cart, Abby jumped and generally made an ass of herself trying to escape the room, before he could notice her blushing, befuddled face. She couldn't comprehend the change that had taken place between his bitter "It's not Rio, but it's not here..." farewell, and his heated, passionate homecoming murmered in her ear. That he had changed was understandable. Nothing, however, could account for the change in her body's response to him. This is what confounded her.
That night, he'd talked about changing... How things weren't right but that they'd never be the same again. She had resigned herself that, at least, they were having the "break up talk." She'd gotten up to go make coffee -knowing she wouldn't be sleeping but... John had gently pulled her to him and....
"Abby, you still there?
"Um, yeah... I'm still here. I, ah, god..." Not quite able to get her mind around it, Abby blurted, " Elle, he kissed me. And, no -not just 'kissed' as in 'Hi, honey, I'm home..' No. It was... it was like he was... I don't know! Like he was a drowning man and I was oxygen.... He drew me into HIM with that kiss and before I knew what was really happening we-"
"You slept with him." Her tone was kind, coaxing.
"Yes, but ... not! Elle. This was not just sex. This was... huh..." Waiting for the right word to come wasn't working... " It was... primitive. It was sacred... It was almost like..." Best not to go there. "Well. It scared me."
"Why did it scare you?" Gently picking her way, Elle softened her voice.
"Why didn't it happen before? Why did it take the end of the road to... to DO that..."
"To 'do' what?"
"To, I don't know... to really open up like that...?"
"That what scared you?"
"No. I was scared after, not before..."
"So, wait a minute... I'm not sure I'm following you, Abby -You were scared because you, what? Because you lost control, a little?"
"No! I'm scared to death, Elle. Because..." Drawing a sharp breath, "I threw him out. Told him to give me my key back -"
"So you're scared you... Are you scared you 'killed' it?"
"Yes! Yes. I didn't think Elle. I just... I jumped to the conclusion that he only stopped at my place because he wanted to get laid..." The fight in the street... The look in his eyes when he said he thought of her... She was so scared to admit what she feared? hoped? she saw there...
"Go on..." Skillfully, Elle urged her on. With vague recognition, Abby knew she was being guided. Mostly, she hated that; when people tried to tell her what to do. But with Elle; well... she just really appreciated the direction, the patience...
"I thought -after I acted impulsevely, asking for my key back... We had a fight. In the street... in front of my building. -Something in his face, I don't know... in his eyes..." Trying to find the words, Abby only grew more unsure. She couldn't trust her instincts -they were so screwed up. Part of her wanted, desperately, to believe that John loved her... that they could work this out... but she just couldn't trust it...
"What happened Abby? What brought you to this ... state?"
She wished right in that moment that she had a drink. No. The truth? She wished she had a whole bottle. Knowing Elle placed heavy weight upon honesty, though, Abby swallowed hard and blurted out, "He loves me, Elle, or did. And I blew it."
"You really think so?"
"Don't you?" Quick as a shot, Abby flung the net out -hoping, against hope, Elle would tell her everything would be okay... Knowing better, Abby regretted the words as soon as they were out.
"I can't tell you that, Abby, you know that..."
I know... I know. It was unfair of me to expect... to pump you for reassurance. It's just that..." Sighing heavily, she continued, "I thought I'd be glad he was home alive and," casting about for the exact feeling, "I didn't expect to sleep with him! I don't know what will happen between us. But I know that sleeping with him was the wrong thing to do. It's just gonna confuse everything... And I feel guilty, now, because I think I used him, now, too, and because it was so... INCREDIBLE, when it was never incredible before, and... Why? Why does he go away pissed and I'm pissed because he's pissed but he comes back and we connected like we've never connected before when we were SUPPOSED to be a couple and... GAH! I really want a drink. BAD!" The tension burst from her in a sharp laugh. "So, that is why I called you, Elle. Because, I grooved with my boyfriend who is not my boyfriend and now I'm confused and stuck and ... I just don't want to go back to the drink -you know?"
"Do you love him, Abby?"
Hitting her mind with an almost physical slap, the quesion rendered Abby temporarily speechless. 'Do you love him, Abby. Do you love him. Do you?' Caught in a loop, it played over in her head.
Reaching for her cigarettes, Abby answered softly, "Elle. I ... I love him.. I don't want to ... but I do."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Ramblings:
Hello! I've been so busy with real life, and so caught up in future ER developments (don't worry, won't give anything away!) that I haven't been able to get back to my own soap opera! But, I'm carving time out where there is no time, because I have directions to take these characters... and I'm not sure my version will go the way of what we see on our screens.... and I might need this story in a wistful way, soon....
The lyric at the beginning is from the incomparable Norah Jones... the chapter title is from the same song. If you haven't listened to her, I highly recommend her -she soothes the soul....
When I saw the break of day
I wished that I could fly away
Instead of kneeling in the sand
Catching teardrops in my hand
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Abby kicked at the door with the heel of her boot. "Come on you sonofabitch, open -sesame..." Muttering under her breath, she abused the door to get it to open. As she tossed her keys on the table, Abby reflected on her day. Her sober day.
This would be.... thirty-seven? No, thirty-six, that's right. Thirty-six days; clean and sober. Would'a been thirty-six days as a non-smoker, too -if it hadn't been for that, that...roll in the hay? With...him; with Carter. "Well, I could use a drink," she announced, to no one. Pulling her boots off, she headed for the kitchen. "Let's see," glancing in the fridge, "we have a half-full carton of milk," sniffing, Abby sputtered, "Auugh, better let the help finish that carton off," pouring the milk down the disposal, "and some tomato juice from.... last spring's Nurse's Breakfast..." dropping the can in the trash, "...and, aha! some orange juice that looks like it may have come from this year -We have a winner!" Grasping the carton, Abby reached for a glass. Thinking better of it, she tipped the carton to her lips.
One lone swallow dripped into her mouth. "Ahhhh! Good to the last drop." Hmmm, maybe coffee wouldn't be so bad. She hadn't been sleeping very well anyway. She pried at the coffe can lid with still-cold fingers. Mere coffee dust clinging to the insides of the can, reminded Abby; it was Carter's turn to buy java. But he hadn't been around. And she hadn't been home to notice the lack of brewable coffee. Between impromptu meetings with her sponsor and extra, mind-numbing shifts at the ER, (she took extra night shifts; Carter was on days...) she hadn't logged too many miles with either her kitchen or her pillow.
Flopping down on the couch, Abby absentmindedly fiddled with the tv remote. Nothing on. Nothing to distract the mind from pesky little thoughts that she was trying to steer clear of, right now. As the second thought of a drink began to tickle the edges of her mind, she decided to call her sponsor.
"Hey, Elle -it's me. It too late?" She had yet to call when it was. But, still, nice to ask.
"Hello, Abby, everything alright?" Elle's voice soothingly stroked her ear.
"Oh...yeah. Everything's okay. I just... well -I'm having a moment of weakness and didn't want to start drinking the vanilla. You know, the usual..." She knew Elle saw through her attempts at humor. But, hell, it made her feel a little less... foolish, somehow.
"So. Tell me."
Elle Pierce was the closest thing to a best friend Abby had in a long time. Cool, unflappable, sharp. she always encouraged Abby to cut to the chase; and, yet, never seemed brusque or insensitive. As her sponsor, Elle insisted Abby call anytime, anytime at all, and she meant it. Abby turned to her when Carter left for Africa; and, now, she was calling on her friend when he came back.
"Well, uh... yeah." Not knowing how to broach the subject with her, Abby grew silent. Elle maintained the quiet, yet Abby could tell she was listening. Waiting patiently. "Okay, um, he's back... He came directly to my place and used his key to get in. I woke up and there he was, just sitting on my bed..." Abby faltered. The image of John, hunched over, his back quaking with soul-deep sobs, tugged at her. Fighting back her own tears, she closed her eyes and let the image play out.
"That's good, right?"
"No! I mean, yes... well -I'm glad he's alive, Elle, but he LEFT me. He said nothing was right in his life -including me. After the last couple of months, I don't know why I was surprised... We didn't talk, not really... didn't listen to each other..." Her voice trailed off. And then, thoughtfully, "He made it pretty clear... that we were over. I don't think I even had a say in the matter... He wouldn't let me defend myself, and obviously I did SOMEthing wrong, ya know? And then, he just shows up and, what? -he misses me, right? It's not fai-"
"Abby, slow down... are you angry because he left or angry because he came back?"
"Both!" Sucking in her breath, Abby broke into rough laughter. " I know! I am being childish, right? That's why I called you, dear Sponsor! I sound insane right now -how'm I supposed to talk to him about how I feel when I am confused by the way I feel?"
"Well, did something happen...? Other than he let himself in, now you're angry at his presumption...?"
This was it. The big, fat question. What HAD happened? Try as she might, she couldn't not think of Carter. His body; his lips; the reverent way he ravaged her. The experience was etched not only in her mind, but almost... in her body as well. If it was possible, she could still feel... him. A blush crept up her face at the mere thought. Simultaneously, she felt this was crazy. Crazy. This was Carter, after all. From the start, she had trouble responding to him as a lover. Sometimes she felt older, more jaded... Sometimes she thought he seemed... inexperienced. Other times, she felt he was half boy, half man. Never, in all the time they spent as a couple had she ever felt... inspired... by the sex. Their conversations lingered in her head, mingled and mixed with deeper emotions in her heart... But the sex? That was incidental. It... was an accepted part of the relationship.
Since "it" happened, however... She hadn't been able to shake the thoughts, the residual sensations of it. Clearing Trauma Two yesterday, she was startled from one such reverie by none other than the man/boy himself. Nearly dropping the handful of used vials and bumping into the crash cart, Abby jumped and generally made an ass of herself trying to escape the room, before he could notice her blushing, befuddled face. She couldn't comprehend the change that had taken place between his bitter "It's not Rio, but it's not here..." farewell, and his heated, passionate homecoming murmered in her ear. That he had changed was understandable. Nothing, however, could account for the change in her body's response to him. This is what confounded her.
That night, he'd talked about changing... How things weren't right but that they'd never be the same again. She had resigned herself that, at least, they were having the "break up talk." She'd gotten up to go make coffee -knowing she wouldn't be sleeping but... John had gently pulled her to him and....
"Abby, you still there?
"Um, yeah... I'm still here. I, ah, god..." Not quite able to get her mind around it, Abby blurted, " Elle, he kissed me. And, no -not just 'kissed' as in 'Hi, honey, I'm home..' No. It was... it was like he was... I don't know! Like he was a drowning man and I was oxygen.... He drew me into HIM with that kiss and before I knew what was really happening we-"
"You slept with him." Her tone was kind, coaxing.
"Yes, but ... not! Elle. This was not just sex. This was... huh..." Waiting for the right word to come wasn't working... " It was... primitive. It was sacred... It was almost like..." Best not to go there. "Well. It scared me."
"Why did it scare you?" Gently picking her way, Elle softened her voice.
"Why didn't it happen before? Why did it take the end of the road to... to DO that..."
"To 'do' what?"
"To, I don't know... to really open up like that...?"
"That what scared you?"
"No. I was scared after, not before..."
"So, wait a minute... I'm not sure I'm following you, Abby -You were scared because you, what? Because you lost control, a little?"
"No! I'm scared to death, Elle. Because..." Drawing a sharp breath, "I threw him out. Told him to give me my key back -"
"So you're scared you... Are you scared you 'killed' it?"
"Yes! Yes. I didn't think Elle. I just... I jumped to the conclusion that he only stopped at my place because he wanted to get laid..." The fight in the street... The look in his eyes when he said he thought of her... She was so scared to admit what she feared? hoped? she saw there...
"Go on..." Skillfully, Elle urged her on. With vague recognition, Abby knew she was being guided. Mostly, she hated that; when people tried to tell her what to do. But with Elle; well... she just really appreciated the direction, the patience...
"I thought -after I acted impulsevely, asking for my key back... We had a fight. In the street... in front of my building. -Something in his face, I don't know... in his eyes..." Trying to find the words, Abby only grew more unsure. She couldn't trust her instincts -they were so screwed up. Part of her wanted, desperately, to believe that John loved her... that they could work this out... but she just couldn't trust it...
"What happened Abby? What brought you to this ... state?"
She wished right in that moment that she had a drink. No. The truth? She wished she had a whole bottle. Knowing Elle placed heavy weight upon honesty, though, Abby swallowed hard and blurted out, "He loves me, Elle, or did. And I blew it."
"You really think so?"
"Don't you?" Quick as a shot, Abby flung the net out -hoping, against hope, Elle would tell her everything would be okay... Knowing better, Abby regretted the words as soon as they were out.
"I can't tell you that, Abby, you know that..."
I know... I know. It was unfair of me to expect... to pump you for reassurance. It's just that..." Sighing heavily, she continued, "I thought I'd be glad he was home alive and," casting about for the exact feeling, "I didn't expect to sleep with him! I don't know what will happen between us. But I know that sleeping with him was the wrong thing to do. It's just gonna confuse everything... And I feel guilty, now, because I think I used him, now, too, and because it was so... INCREDIBLE, when it was never incredible before, and... Why? Why does he go away pissed and I'm pissed because he's pissed but he comes back and we connected like we've never connected before when we were SUPPOSED to be a couple and... GAH! I really want a drink. BAD!" The tension burst from her in a sharp laugh. "So, that is why I called you, Elle. Because, I grooved with my boyfriend who is not my boyfriend and now I'm confused and stuck and ... I just don't want to go back to the drink -you know?"
"Do you love him, Abby?"
Hitting her mind with an almost physical slap, the quesion rendered Abby temporarily speechless. 'Do you love him, Abby. Do you love him. Do you?' Caught in a loop, it played over in her head.
Reaching for her cigarettes, Abby answered softly, "Elle. I ... I love him.. I don't want to ... but I do."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Ramblings:
Hello! I've been so busy with real life, and so caught up in future ER developments (don't worry, won't give anything away!) that I haven't been able to get back to my own soap opera! But, I'm carving time out where there is no time, because I have directions to take these characters... and I'm not sure my version will go the way of what we see on our screens.... and I might need this story in a wistful way, soon....
The lyric at the beginning is from the incomparable Norah Jones... the chapter title is from the same song. If you haven't listened to her, I highly recommend her -she soothes the soul....