Susan soothed Joe as she waited for the water to reach a tepid temperature. He had woken up crying after wetting his bed once again and Susan just couldn't handle it anymore. Exhausted at 2am and with her 5 year old in the shower, she cried until the water turned cold.

The little boy watched her timidly as she towel-dried his hair and she kissed his forehead gently "I'm sorry, honey… I'm not angry at you… it's not a big deal… you can sleep in my bed, ok?".

Joe flashed her a relieved smile and hugged her tightly, she perched him on her hip and as soon as they climbed into bed, he snuggled close to her, his eyes closing almost immediately.

Susan realized it wasn't the first time she was left alone with a kid.

It sure felt like a lifetime ago, but she reminisced about how she had managed to finish her residency and raise Little Suzie while Chloe was AWOL. She recalled how exhausting those times were but how happy she was, just her and the little girl she came to love as her own.

She also recalled how she resented her sister for years for taking Suzie away from her and how wrong it all went from there. How she broke Mark Greene's heart at Union Station and how she cried all the way to Phoenix because the love she felt for that child was more important than anything else. How she followed her sister around for years, being miserable, but taking it like a champ because it was worth it just to see her niece growing up.

She lost count of how many times Chloe relapsed and how she'd always been there like a safety net. She prayed to a god she didn't believe in that her partner would get herself together. She couldn't do it for Abby, but she wouldn't let her become Chloe.

Susan knew she would be there for Mark and Joe no matter what. Even if she and Abby parted ways, she knew she would find the strength because as much as she needed Abby, her sons needed her more. The prospect of a life without the woman she loved terrified her, but Susan had to weight all her options.

She looked at her son, dozing peacefully against her chest and recalled the words she'd once said to a dying patient, so many years ago, back at County.

"Nothing is certain. Nothing that seems very bad and nothing that seems very good. Nothing is certain. Nothing".

Susan knocked lightly on the door and peeked in "I'm sorry, is Kerry in yet?".

The young man eyed her suspiciously "Do you have an appointment?".

Susan wrinkled her nose "Not really. I used to work here…", she looked around trying to find a familiar face.

He seemed to acknowledge she wasn't a threat and confided "Dr. Weaver's down in the ER for the day".

"Oh, okay. Thank you!", she smiled and took the elevator to the first floor. She had decided to get Joe a pediatrician's visit because of the bed-wetting; she could've asked someone at Northwestern to check him, but it made no sense to not go see his own pediatrician. She knew it was nocturnal enuresis caused from the stress of Abby's absence, but she wanted to be sure everything was physically okay with him.

She'd been right about the diagnosis and after the consult the little boy had begged her to take him to County's Daycare. Susan made it clear to him that his other mommy wouldn't be there, but he still wanted to go and she indulged him.

As soon as she reached the ER, Susan was overcome by nostalgia. She knew it must've been her fatigue talking when the place didn't look as dingy as usual.

She spotted Randi at the desk and smiled at the exuberant woman "Hey Randi!". The clerk left the nurse's station and hugged her effusively "Dr. Lewis! Long time no see! I love your hair!", she smiled and then raised an eyebrow "What you doing here?".

Susan whispered out loud "Is Weaver around?".

Randi nodded "Oh, yeah…" and pointed to Curtain 1 where the redhead was chastising two residents. She looked furious and didn't see Susan when she reached the chart rack "Randi, why is this chart still here?".

The desk clerk shrugged "Dr. Morris said he would take it… like an hour ago. Don't shoot the messenger!", she raised her palms in defense.

Kerry Weaver noticed Susan's smirk and her face mellowed "Susan? What are you doing here?", she looked confused.

"Joe had an appointment upstairs, he begged me to let him stay in Daycare for a while. I was hoping I could buy you lunch?", she smiled.

Weaver looked at her watch and nodded cautiously "Okay… Just let me get my purse".

They sat at Ike's and Susan chuckled at the other woman's reserve "Don't look so alarmed, I just wanted to thank you about how you handled Abby's situation… We both appreciate it", she nodded.

Kerry smiled as she flagged down a waitress "I'm glad she's getting help, I need her back in the ER. How is she?".

"She says she's doing fine", Susan shrugged. "Her therapist says she can be obstinate and questions the program a lot…", she added with a chuckle.

"That sounds just like Abby", Weaver nodded.

The waiter took their orders and Weaver observed Susan over the rims of her glasses "You look like hell, Susan", she smiled in sympathy.

Susan pursed her lips "Thanks… I'm doing my best to not lose my shit at the hospital, at school, at home… I'm sorry, I just had a rough night", she shook her head and turned quiet.

"How are the kids taking it?".

Susan rubbed her temple "They miss her. Mark's been acting out at school, Joe started bed-wetting again…".

"You should take some time off", Kerry suggested carefully.

When Susan looked at her like she was crazy, Kerry lowered her voice "I know you miss her. And that you're angry at her for putting you in this position… I'm sure Abby's pretty angry at herself, too. But you have a beautiful family together. Don't let that anger blind you".

"I'm being a wimp. She's been away for 6 weeks...", Susan mused.

"It's a lot to handle. But you can do it. I've seen you carry through the day before", Weaver said with a knowing smirk.

"I was younger! And have you seen the budget cuts for next year?", Susan added as an afterthought.

Weaver sighed "Tell me about it".

They ate quietly and Susan thought to herself how odd it was that she was having this kind of conversation with Kerry Weaver, her nemesis back in her resident days. Kerry noticed the smile on her lips and gave her a questioning look "What?".

Susan shook her head "Nothing. So, enough about me. How are you? How's Courtney?". The redhead felt herself blush a little and realized that she missed having someone she could talk to about anything. She hadn't many friends left at County and with Abby away, she really didn't have anyone else she could relate to. They had butted heads a lot in the past, but Susan had that friendly way about her that made people open up.

"Well, we're doing the long distance relationship thing... but I'm considering moving to Florida", Kerry said timidly.

Susan mouth was agape "Whoa, really? Good for you!". Then she shook her head "I can't imagine County without you".

Kerry teased "Wanna take my job? Come on, you know you'd love to".

Susan laughed out loud and grimaced "Nah, they say you shouldn't go back to a place where you were happy once...".

Weaver cocked an eyebrow at her "But you did return, didn't you?".

Susan looked through the window and could see ambulances, gurneys, doctors and nurses scurrying around.

In that same ambulance bay, so many years ago, in the middle of an unusual dead shift, Susan realized she was in love with Abby.

She looked at Kerry and smiled "I'm glad I did come back".

Therapy sessions, group meetings, outdoor activities. Abby felt like a kid in some strange summer camp and the constant heat made her slow and depressed. She had too much free time on her hands and little power to actually do anything.

She was so sick of therapy and talking about her feelings to strangers. She wanted to take Mark and Joe to Millennium Park after school and watch bad reality shows with Susan's fingers entangled in her hair.

Abby wasn't in her best mood so she'd decided to stay in her room. Sorting out her emails, Abby frowned at their latest account balance. Susan'd used a substancial part of their savings to pay for her treatment and car repair. It was money they were saving for a downpayment for a bigger house they hoped to buy in the near future and Abby deflated in remorse.

She clicked on the most recent email Susan'd send her. The change of behavior of her sons worried her and she didn't know what to say to Susan. She was holding up the forte back home while she sat her on her ass all day in some fancy rehab center. It all felt so wrong.

Abby reminded herself how many times she held back tears as a kid, every time Eric asked her where Maggie was. She pictured herself - what age was she, eleven, twelve years-old? - faking Maggie's signature on Eric's school reports so that no one suspected they were alone at home when their mother disappeared for weeks at a time. She felt tears in her eyes as she realized she was doing the same to her own children.

The realization dawned on her: she had turned into Maggie.

Abby was ashamed not only in herself but at the words she'd hurled at her mother through the years. There she was, the righteous Abby, who criticized Maggie every time she could for doing a crap job at being a mother, in a rehabilitation clinic miles away from home, from her partner, from their children.

The harsh reality shocked her, but Abby refused to feel sorry for herself.

Maggie had been alone with her disease and two kids to raise. She had someone that she hoped would still take her back. Susan would always be there for their boys, she knew that. The certainty gave her a strength she didn't know she had.

Slowly, she started to accept that some things held more power than she imagined. Like her addiction. She had been a fool, thinking she could drink casually without consequences. In the blinding whiteness of the room, Abby vowed to herself she would never touch a drop of alcohol again.

Abby also realized that there were many things in life she couldn't control. Like her brother's actions, for one.

She stood from the chair and left her room. As she wandered down the halls, reaching the auditorium that was already full for the 5pm session, Abby felt anxiety suffocating her.

She had to regain control of her life so she took the chair in the middle of the circle that she hadn't dared to sit in since checking in.

When everyone was seated and the counselor gave her a nod signalling that she could start, Abby said the words as confidently as she could.

"My name is Abby and I'm an alcoholic".

After the meeting ended, Jenny approached Abby with a coffee cup that smelled particularly good "Well done", she winked.

Abby rolled her eyes while savoring her coffee "Was it too mushy?".

Jenny shook her head smiling "You did great. Now call Susan", she added before leaving her to speak to someone else.

Abby went out and sat in one of the chairs available. She admired the view of the desert for a while before reaching for her phone.

Susan picked up and Abby thought to herself how much she loved her voice. Then she decided she would actually say what she meant for a change.

"Have I told you lately how much I love your voice?", she smiled.

Susan was taken aback by the words but couldn't help affection showing up in her tone "Not really...".

Abby nodded "Well, I do. It was one of the first clues that I was already heads over heels with you, when I'd think of excuses to call you just to hear your voice".

Susan dropped her pen on her desk and closed her eyes for a moment. It had been so long since they had this kind of flowing conversation, she seemed to have forgotten how to flirt back. "Huh... I didn't know that".

"I never told you. I also never told you that I used to call your voicemail when I knew you were working just so I could hear your voice".

Abby felt herself blushing and she knew it wasn't the warm weather.

"That's kind of stalkerish", Susan teased. She had missed the easy banter. She was afraid of lowering her guard, but when Abby was like this, she was putty in her hands.

Abby chuckled "I know, but I wanted you to know anyway. How's your day going so far?".

"It just turned better", she smiled gently.

Abby sighed lovingly "Okay, I'm going to let you go back to work. I love you...".

Susan nodded, hopeless against the strength of what she felt for the other woman "I know. I love you too".

Staring at the static view of the desert in front of her, Abby decided she would do whatever it took to have her life back.