TITLE: Still Living (Part 1 of `Here With Me`)

AUTHOR: Ceri

EMAIL: ceriellis@yahoo.com

CATEGORY: AL/JC

RATING: PG

SPOILERS: If there were, I forget which ones. Oh, and in my world, Rena never existed. Cruel, but necessary.

ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters, just merely the twisted Carby angst that is a product of my depraved mind.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is the sequel to `In Spite Of Me`; it’s probably going to be written half Abby’s POV, and half Carter’s. Just to be confusing. And thanks for all the wonderful reviews, everyone!

SUMMARY: Abby considers a change of scenery.

1 Still Living

Tiny droplets of rain spattered the window, breaking the humidity. The air that once was thick and stiflingly hot was now cool. A relieving breeze drifted through the gap under the door, and calm was around her once more.

Pen in hand, she stared down at the paper in front of her. Jumbled words, letters stared back at her, not making any sense to her tired and overworked mind. The ink seemed to smudge as her vision blurred slightly, then came in to a sharp focus.

Northwestern. Mercy. Anywhere. She didn’t even need to stay in Chicago. She could go to Minnesota, and be near her mom; or to Florida, and be near her brother. But there was something in Chicago that made her want to stay....as much as it hurt, and as little sense it made to her...she just couldn’t leave.

The past six months had progressed from living-hell status, to achingly- painful, to depressingly-quiet. Now, it was just...blank. There was nothing there anymore, nothing between them – not even anger, not even hatred.

Of course, he hadn’t been around for the whole time. A month after she had walked out of his apartment, practically to the day, he had gone to Atlanta. To rehab again. From what she could get from the nurses and doctors, he hadn’t relapsed, but had been so close that he needed to go back, if only to remind himself why he wasn’t supposed to relapse in the first place.

Naturally, she had felt guilty. So guilty, in fact, that she almost relapsed herself. But she didn’t. She drove away any emotions or feelings that lingered by working, and sleeping, and working some more. And when Carter had returned from Atlanta two months later, she was cold, she was calm, she was collected.

He didn’t need to know the feelings pulsing through her veins every time he walked by.

And so, time went by. They hardly ever uttered a word to each other unless they absolutely had to. Abby avoided him as much as possible for one main reason – his eyes. The hurt, the pain, the love he displayed for her and her alone in those eyes was enough to crack even the steeliest of resolves. And she couldn’t crack. Not now, not ever.

The loss of their child had certainly taken its toll on Abby. For weeks after, she had been in a constant state of denial, depression only hitting in when she was alone. The pain of knowing what she could have had with Carter was worse than anything she had gone through before, and it only gave her more reasons to avoid him. Everything just fell apart from there.

Strangely enough, in the time that her relationship with Carter had deteriorated, her friendships with Luka and Jing Mei had rebuilt themselves, become stronger and more reliable. She could call Jing Mei in the middle of the night and tell her she was lonely and missed Carter. She could show up on Luka’s doorstep and spend an hour or two talking about everything and nothing, just to distract herself. Both friends seemed to have moved on from their spurned-lover status – Jing Mei managing to move on with one very sexy doctor from a private practice – and were happy to lend support, or a listening ear, or a shoulder to cry on.

She tried not to think about the fact that whilst she had two such friends, Carter had none.

Jing Mei had explained to Abby that it was just too awkward with Carter now...he wasn’t the same person, didn’t have the same vivacity about him that he once did. He was an empty shell, she had said, and it might be impossible to draw him out again.

And from there, she had thought about moving. Even just changing jobs...get herself out of his way, let him move on. They were always looking for nurses in Chicago...it couldn’t be that hard to get a new job. And as for friends...well, she’d still see people from County. Just not the ones who didn’t want to see her.

“Abby!” a voice interrupted her thoughts loudly, and she looked up in to the eyes of her friend. “I was looking for you – when are you off?”

Abby cast one look at the application form in front of her – that surely had precedence over whatever it was that Jing Mei was planning – and then back up at the other woman. “Now, actually. I’m just finishing off a few things...”

Jing Mei sighed, sitting down next to Abby and peering at the forms. “You’re not really going to go through with this, are you?”

“I can’t not go through with it. I just...I need to give him some space...give myself some space...”

“That’s a poor excuse,” Jing Mei stated calmly. “You know as well as I do that John would hate it if you left.”

“I don’t think he would,” Abby remarked sadly, eyes flickering down to the papers. His face, his sad, empty, soulless eyes kept appearing in her mind, and it was becoming harder and harder to be rid of the image. “Really, it’s for the best. A new job, a new beginning – “

They were interrupted by the swishing sound of the door opening, and they both looked up. In true farcical style, there stood Carter, staring down at them in a mixture of horror and disbelief. There was a pause, tensions building once more as they all stared at each other in the silence, until finally he moved towards the coffee pot, his back turned to the women.

Abby swallowed uncomfortably, glancing over at Jing Mei before looking up at Carter. She could see the muscles in his back tense up, and when he turned around again, his eyes looked tired...his whole face dragged down by fatigue.

“You’re looking for a new job?” he asked, trying to be casual but failing miserably. Abby nodded slowly, unable to tear her eyes away from him. “Oh. Well, good luck.”

Abby opened her mouth to reply but he was already heading for the door. Just as she was considering what he meant by this – good luck?! – he spoke again as he opened the door.

“We’ll miss you.”

*****

A couple of hours later, and Abby was confused. Just how she had ended up outside Carter’s apartment was beyond her – amazingly, she had driven there on auto-pilot, only really noticing where she had ended up when she looked up and saw the familiar number on the familiar door in that familiar hallway.

She had stood outside his door enough in her lifetime. Most notably was when they had broken up. That day was as clear in her mind as ever; it still stung like it had been six minutes ago, not six months. He had said he loved her. And she…she had walked out. To that day, she couldn’t remember why she had done it. At the time, it had seemed like the right thing to do. And even as she closed the door, and stood staring at it for about half an hour afterwards, listening to Carter slam doors and stomp around inside the apartment, she couldn’t convince herself to walk away. But then, she couldn’t convince herself to go back inside either.

So she had walked away.

She had felt the same way as he did, of course. She loved him so much…she never knew she had the capacity to love someone like she loved John. Every day she loved him more, because he was part of her, and if she didn’t love him, then she didn’t love herself. It was love without condition, love that could never end.

Which was why it had to end. Feelings that intense, emotions that strong could only do harm. And she couldn’t face things getting any harder than they already had done.

The door in front of her suddenly flew open, and Abby shrieked, “Sweet *Jesus*!”

Carter practically jumped out of his skin, clutching the door handle as if to steady himself. “Fuck, Abby, you scared the life out of me.”

She looked down sheepishly, then back in to his eyes. “I was about to knock,” she lied in her defense. “You beat me to it.”

He frowned slightly, and exhaled. “Well…did you want anything?”

Right. She hadn’t just come over to stand outside his door and reminisce. There had to be a reason, somewhere in her twisted little mind…somewhere….God. She was looking more and more like some kind of stalker-psycho ex-girlfriend from hell with every passing second.

“Yeah. I just wanted to say….” She trailed off, desperately searching for something that made her seem like less of a freak. “…that I’m not going to move away. Or change jobs.”

She watched for his reaction, but he gave nothing away. He merely nodded, looking slightly confused, then ran his hand through his recently cut hair. The fact that she had noticed it worried Abby immensely – could she *be* more obsessed? - but she pushed it aside.

“Right. Well, thanks for letting me know.” There was a pause, and he finally relented – though she wasn’t sure if he was relenting to himself or to her. “Do you want to come in? I’m making coffee.”

This simple offer made her heart skip a beat, and she offered him a tentative smile. “Sure. Thanks.”

He stepped back so she could enter, and her eyes widened when she did. The place was, to put it mildly, a mess. He had obviously attempted to move things around, make a change – but hadn’t got very far. Piles of videos rested against the far wall next to the newly-positioned TV, including her battered copy of Dirty Dancing. Used cups and plates littered the coffee table that was normally so pristine. Spattered across one white wall was what could only be identified as a large coffee stain. She didn’t want to think about how it got there.

“It’s looking…good. Did you decorate?”

Carter shot her a look that had always used to annoy her. He could always tell what she was thinking, he could always read in to what she said…it used to get on her nerves. Now…well, it was almost endearing.

“You mean with coffee beans?” he asked, a faint smile on his face as he gestured to the unsightly stain. “It’s modern art, I think you’ll find.”

She smirked. “Right. Maybe next time you should think about anger management classes instead of modern art classes.”

Something told her she had crossed a very fine line. He turned to the kitchen, pulling two cups from a disorganized cupboard, and dumped a spoonful of ground coffee in to each one. Abby sighed. “You know…I should probably go…I’m on in seven hours, and I need some sleep.”

He looked over at her, meeting her eyes. “If you’re sure…”

“Yeah. Thanks anyway.”

She started towards the door, Carter close behind her, an over-whelming sense of déjà vu hitting her. She paused at the door, turning to face him.

“I couldn’t move away from Chicago, you know. Too much of me would still be here.”

They stared at each other, the air thick with tensions, past and present, until he finally broke the gaze, offering her a small, weak smile. Suddenly, Abby didn’t want to go. All the motives that she had searched for earlier as to why she had even showed up at Carter’s apartment came flooding to the surface, and she realized how much they needed to talk.

“Actually…sleep isn’t all that important, right?”

Carter’s smile broadened. “Nah. Sleep’s for wusses.”

“I figured as much. Is the coffee still on offer?”

“Of course.” He moved aside so she could enter again. “See if you can clear yourself a space on the couch and I’ll go make the coffee.”

And so the afternoon progressed. They drank in contemplative silence, and then it was as if a door was opened, and they could talk freely, uninhibited. They talked about Carter’s trip to rehab, about Abby going the meetings, about Jing Mei’s new conquest. They didn’t broach the subject of their relationship, or the baby that they had lost – it was still too raw, too painful – but they wasted quite a few hours on other things. She had missed this. Having it all – or most of it – out in the open was a blessed relief, like a weight off her shoulders.

She felt like she was alive again.

*****