TITLE:
Goodnight And Thank You (Part 3 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 original ER characters, just the ones I make up,
and, naturally, the twisted little plots that are products
of my addled mind.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is the sequel to `In Spite Of Me`.
SUMMARY: A shopping trip ends with tears, hugs, and a dash of sexual tension.
Goodnight And Thank You
Sun had turned to rain, bringing with it a harsh wind. Caught unawares by the
fickle Chicago weather she should've known better
than to wear so few clothes and Abby was cold, wet, and thoroughly fed up.
Plus, she was totally stranded.
It had been her own bright idea to go shopping. Yes, instead of spending her
precious day off partaking in the time-honoured
tradition of sleeping and watching The Flintstones, she had chosen to go out in
to the world, and spend money she didn't have. It started out well she had
good intentions, and it was her theory that if you had such good intentions then
nothing could go wrong. Of course, judging from past experience, it was really a
theory that she should stop using.
Thirty minutes in, and she had realized the major flaw in her plan buying
clothes, and shoes, and books, and whatever fell in to her eye line when she
didn't really have all that much money probably wasn't her best idea. An hour
in, and someone had stolen her umbrella when she had stopped in Starbucks for a
much-deserved coffee. So now, there she was, decked out in a sundress in the
pouring rain (the fact that she owned such a garment had been news to her on
inspection of her closet that morning), with no umbrella, no ride home, no cabs
in sight, scalding-hot coffee in one hand, and her other arm weighed down with
clothes she couldn't afford.
Life was *such* a bitch.
Right. It was time to admit defeat. She could call someone a cab company, a
friend, anyone who would be happy and willing to save her from this water-world
hell. Cell phone in hand, she paused. The numbers on the screen leapt out at her
as she finally noticed who's
number she had been dialing.
John.
It was as if it was programmed in to her. Automatically, she had dialed the
number. Clearly, six months of separation hadn't had any
effect on her memory.
Of course, there was no harm in calling him. It was his day off too. And after
their talk the week before, she liked to think they were
friends again. And if they weren't, they should be. After all, that was how it
had all started Carter and Abby, best of friends. Then,
those pesky feelings got in the way.
She shook her head vehemently. No more feelings. Just friendship. So she could
call him, ask for a favour, and save herself from
pneumonia. It didn't mean anything.
Slowly, uncertainly, she pressed the `call` button, and listened as it rang, and
rang, and rang...
"John? It's Abby."
*****
It was a lot less painful than she'd imagined. He had arrived within fifteen
minutes, taken one look at her sodden exterior, and swept her immediately in to
his warm, comfortable car.
God bless central heating.
After the mandatory small talk "Crappy weather, huh?" they had fallen in to
a stilted silence. Every few minutes, Abby was taken
over by a strange urge to reach out and hold his hand in her own. Instead, she
sat, shivering despite the thick jacket he had wrapped
around her shoulders, and stared dully out of the window as the rain poured
down.
"I'm glad."
He glanced over at her briefly, eyebrows raised curiously. "Why?"
She chuckled self-consciously, remembering that perhaps Carter couldn't read her
mind. "I'm glad that we can be friends. Y'know...after everything that has
happened. I've missed it."
She could've sworn she heard him sigh the softest of sighs, barely audible
but when she looked over at him, his face was blank.
"Me too."
"Do you think we could be friends again?"
There was a pause; the silence palpable as Carter guided the car around a corner
with apparent ease. Abby waited for a response
anxiously whatever he said now could change their relationship for the
foreseeable future. What if he couldn't be friends with her
again? She didn't even want to think about it...she missed his friendship so
much. Well, his friendship, and his love, his mere
presence in her life...but she was only willing to admit the friendship part to
him. There was no point in dragging things up,
especially when there was no way to get past them that she could see.
"I think so."
There was another pause, and the stagnant smell of rain and damp filtered
through to her. Fighting the gagging sensation that
threatened to make the experience even more embarrassing than it already was,
she looked over at Carter.
"I wasn't sure I could get past it."
He blinked, then asked, "Get past what?" in that infuriating way when she knew
that he knew what she was talking about. Talk about delay tactics it didn't
bode well for the rest of the conversation. But they had to have it out in the
open...it was something she needed to talk about, if only for a few minutes.
"Y'know...everything. You and me...breaking up...the miscarriage."
There it was. The first time they had said the `m` word let alone talked about
it since the day it happened. And even then, the
furthest they had got was saying how sorry they were and determining that it
wasn't Abby's fault. She gulped. Even now, she didn't believe it. But it
definitely wasn't the time to uncover that particular wound. She studied his
reaction carefully, and it almost broke her
heart. His eyes remained stoically on the road, and yet she saw a hint of
sadness behind the barriers he had put up the moment she had left him. His long,
lean fingers stopped their incessant tapping on the steering wheel as if the
word had knocked all the rhythm out of him.
"What we had...what we could've had," she continued softly, eyes fixed on him as
they filled with tears. "But but it wasn't meant to
be. We know that now."
"Right," was his guarded response.
She swallowed hard, wetting her lips nervously. All the emotions, as raw and
painful as they had been six months ago, were racing to the surface. "And..and
we weren't ready to be parents...I think we both knew that...even before it
happened..."
He didn't speak, easing off the gas pedal as they pulled up to a red light.
"...but it's okay to be sad, right? It's okay to miss our baby
even when we
didn't see anything more than a scan...we can miss it...I
know I do..."
There was another long, awkward pause as they both stared ahead of them at the
road. God, maybe she should've shut up. Maybe she should've talked about the
weather more, or when they were both working next, or -
"I think about it every day."
Abby looked up in surprise at his murmured statement, and bit down on her lip
hard as one single tear escaped down her cheek. "Me too," was all she could
manage in response as she fought her battling emotions.
There was silence, almost like they didn't need to say anything to share their
grief. But Abby felt the urge to talk...she hadn't really
spoke on what had happened like this with anyone before, and it was a release
that she yearned for.
"I'm sorry."
Abby looked over at him again, frowning. "For what?"
His eyes dropped briefly to the steering wheel, then back at the road again.
"For everything. For saying what I said. For accusing you.
For...for doing that to our baby."
These words alone made her break down. More tears escaped, and she instantly
reached out to take hold of his hand. "No. Don't say that, John. This...it
wasn't your fault at all. And " She paused. "It was just...one of those
things, in life...one of the things it throws at you. One in three pregnancies
end in miscarriage, you know that. We just...it was bad luck."
They had reached Abby's apartment building, pulling in to a space right outside.
Abby quickly unclipped her seat belt, reached over,
and wrapped her arms around him. They just held each other, unable to do
anything else as they silently, privately mourned for their child. Abby buried
her face in to his chest, listening to his heart beat, listening to him breathe.
Finally, she pulled away slightly, kissing
him on the cheek.
"Thank you for being a friend," she whispered, drinking him in with her eyes. He
stared back at her, and for one beautiful, time-freezing
moment she thought he was going to kiss her. But he didn't move. Instead, he
nodded his head slowly, and replied, "And thank *you*."
She smiled in spite of herself...she must've looked a sight for sore eyes,
crying like a total *woman* - something she despised more than anything else.
"Well...thanks for the ride
"
He managed a small smile, trying to brush a tear from his cheek as discreetly as
possible. This made her smile even more, and she
reached out to wipe away a tear with her thumb.
"You're...welcome," he replied softly, staring in to her eyes as her skin came
in to contact with his. There was silence once more,
passions and desire and lust suddenly very apparent. But, seemingly at the same
moment it happened to her, he came to his senses, and leaned back in his seat.
"Call me if you need any more rides," he added with a wink.
"Will do," she grinned, offering him a wink in return. She opened the car door
and swung her legs out, hopping down out of the Jeep as
carefully as she could. She turned to face him again, pulling off his jacket and
dumping it on the seat. All of a sudden she was very aware of the wet dress
clinging to her body, and his eyes drifting down her figure. She blushed. "Well,
I'll see you tomorrow I guess."
"See ya," he agreed, eyes meeting hers again. She could see a hint of a cheeky
smile on his face. "Don't forget your clothes next time."
Abby found herself chuckling as she watched him drive away, stood in the rain
once more, clutching on to her bags. She felt herself
breathe easily again, despite the fact that she was freezing cold and as wet as
was humanly possible. She paused, then turned to her
apartment building with a contented sigh.
Everything would be okay.
*****