TITLE: Only The Lonely (Part 9 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: Michael and ice cream and love, oh my.

ONLY THE LONELY

"You really didn't have to come with me, you know."

He looked at her as if she was mad, treating her to a lopsided grin, and turned back to the canned goods. Maybe he was trying to be paternal, trying to take care of her...like she needed assistance in grocery shopping. The only issue she had in the store was with the families blocking the aisles, taking the last packages of pasta...why couldn't they shop elsewhere? Surely there was some kind of huge store on the other side of town, packed with glowing mom's and proud pop's, each with three energetic children and a dog. And if there wasn't such a store, there should be.

Had to get 'em out the way somehow, right?

"You can find out a lot about a person from their shopping," Luka spoke up, tossing an unwanted can of chopped tomatoes in the cart. Leaning heavily against the bar, he pushed it along slowly, staring up at the tins. "After one shopping trip you already know what food they like, that's half the battle."

"They might not like you calling dating them `a battle`," Abby reminded him dryly, plucking a can of soup from the shelves and dropping it with a loud `clang` in to the cart. "It's not the most positive of images."

He chuckled, turning to wink at her. "Okay, our relationship aside, they aren't battles."

Abby smiled in spite of herself, shaking her head as they turned the corner in to the next aisle. "If it was a battle, Luka, then I won." It used to feel strange talking this candidly with a man she had loved and hated with such extremity at one point in her life...but now, she was completely accustomed to it. In fact, her week was decidedly empty if she didn't experience some kind of verbal spar with Luka.

"Tell yourself what you want to believe," he teased, turning his attention back to the shelves. "Chicken?"

"I'm sorry?" Abby frowned, then sighed. "Oh. Right. Sure, throw one in."

They continued their procession down the aisle, looking from side to side as they moved. There was something relaxing in grocery shopping - well, when the place was virtually deserted, but that was the only time Abby would go in anyway. And whilst she certainly hadn't asked Luka along with her  - he was such a kid on hearing of a trip to the store, grinning and spending the entire time talking about what candy to buy - she didn't really mind in the long run. He was good company, mildly amusing...though she wouldn't admit that to him. No one should encourage those sort of jokes in a public place.

"See, if I didn't know you already," Luka started again, snapping loudly on his gum, and waving at a small girl at the other end of the aisle who was grinning at him. Abby smiled - she forgot how great he was with kids. "I would look in your cart and determine that..." He paused, staring down at the contents.

"...that I'm a dull person?" Abby asked, throwing a package of burgers haphazardly in to the cart.

"...that you are a careful eater," he corrected. "And therefore a careful person."

She snorted. "Me? Careful?"

"Sure," he replied, pausing at the end of the aisle and looking both ways...probably for the candy, knowing him. "And you are careful. Otherwise you would have told Carter how you really felt instead of inventing people."

Abby swatted him on the arm, taking control of the cart. "Great, throw *that* in my face," she retorted, guiding them towards the checkouts. She had to stay calm about this. Yes, he was right. She knew it, he knew it...everyone who had heard about the faux-boyfriend situation knew it. But that wasn't the point. It was the principle of the thing.

"I just think - "

"Everyone knows what you think, Luka," she interrupted. "You spent about two hours telling me in minute detail."

He pouted, and plucked a block of chocolate from the shelves as they passed. "Fine, fine. But, you know, I have a friend called Michael..."

Abby straightened up immediately, hardly noticing as they crashed in to the end of the cash register. "You do? And you're only just telling me *now*?!"

Luka grinned, starting to unload the groceries on to the conveyor belt. "I wasn't sure if you actually wanted to be dating again in the real world...you know, as opposed to the fictional world."

She glared at him, pulling her wallet from her purse with surprising ferocity. "Either help me with the situation I have got myself in, or shut the hell up," she instructed him. The sales clerk blinked in surprise, clearly not used to such a drama unfolding at her place of work, then turned to Luka and gave him a huge, pearly-toothed smile.

"That'll be 67 dollars and 34 cents," the clerk declared. Abby grudgingly handed over her credit card, and turned back to Luka.

"So? Are you going to help me or not?"

He draped his arm around her shoulders loosely, beaming down at her. "Of course I will. I'll call Michael and you can meet him tomorrow."

Abby grinned, flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him quickly on the lips as the clerk looked on jealously. "Luka, you're an angel. What can I do to repay the debt?"

Luka chuckled, moving his gaze from her own to the bags full of food waiting for them. "Cook me dinner."

*****

It had been half an hour since she had made her excuses to Michael. `I'm sick` or `I'm trapped in the bathroom` had crossed her mind, but in the end, she figured that the guy at least deserved the truth - `I'm not ready for this`.

The truth was really quite depressing. On admitting the truth to herself, and of course to Michael, she didn't know what to do. She had called back-up (Deb, with enough ice cream to feed the state), stuck on a video as background noise, and collapsed on to the couch, trying to steady her breathing. Deb sat opposite her, spoon in one hand and a carton of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough in the other, one eye on the TV and the other on her friend. Neither really knew what to say...and in these situations, Abby's theory was: if in doubt, say nothing at all.

Apparently that wasn't a theory Deb subscribed to.

"So what's the problem here?" she asked, crossing her legs and digging in to the ice cream energetically. "You're not ready to move on just yet...but you will be. These things take time."

Abby looked over at her friend, then down in to her own carton of Chocolate Fudge Brownie, the rich browns swirling in front of her eyes. "I...but...what if I don't want to move on?"

Deb pursed her lips together, then leant back against the couch. "Well...you have a choice..."

"No, I don't! John's moved on already, it's too late for that...." Abby sighed deeply, tapping her spoon against the side of the carton in a random rhythm. "It's such a mess, Deb."

There was a long silence, and Abby looked up at her friend - when Deb voluntarily shut up, something was amiss. Her friend was shaking her
head, smiling slightly, then caught Abby's eye. "It is a mess. You're right."

"That's all you've got for me?" Abby asked, a small smile playing on her lips. "You're a *big* help."

"What do you want me to say?" Deb enquired seriously. "Surely you are the only one who can get you out of this situation now?"

Abby rolled her eyes. "I think it's too late even for that," she replied. "You've seen what I'm like under pressure...if I tried to talk to John I'd only end up telling him I'm married or something."

Deb smirked - and Abby tried not to take offence at how amusing she seemed to find her problems. Deb had spent the entire time at Abby's apartment either smirking secretively, as if she knew something that no one else knew, or looking despairingly at Abby. Abby didn't know which one she preferred.

"You're probably right about that," Deb agreed, waving the spoon in the air for emphasis. "I'm still not sure how `Michael` came in to existence...you sure have an active imagination when you want to."

"What can I say, it's one of my finer qualities," Abby shrugged. "Lying comes easily to me when faced with total and utter humiliation."

Deb paused. "What would you have said...if he had told you he wanted to be with you?"

"I don't think talking would've been top of my agenda," Abby murmured in reply, casting her eyes down to the floor, all too aware that she was blushing. "I would've jumped him faster than you can eat that ice cream...." She broke off, looking up and forcing a smile. "But there you go. Some things aren't meant to be, I guess."

God, even thinking about what `could have been` depressed her. She had spent so much time over the past year, just thinking about how things would've been if certain events hadn't taken place...if she had carried her baby to full term...if she hadn't walked out on Carter...if she had just told him how she felt before he had started dating Ellen. Now, it was too late to ask `what if?`. She couldn't help but feel like her life was just slipping away, moment by moment.

"You really love him."

Abby glanced over at her friend, surprised to find tears swimming in her eyes. She managed to force her lips in to what turned out as a pained smile. "Yeah. I do." She paused, digging viciously in to her ice cream. "If I could turn back time...I never should've walked out. No matter how hard it was...I knew he was jealous...and suspicious...and I would've been if it was the other way around..."

"Even if it is physically impossible," Deb interjected softly.

"Right," Abby agreed, meeting Deb's eyes and allowing a small but genuine smile. "I can't even begin to tell you how jealous I was of you..."

"Abby..." Deb sighed, looking distinctly awkward.

"I know, I know...it's in the past now," Abby continued. "Maybe I just employed double standards...I expected him to be fine with Luka but I was allowed to be as jealous as I wanted...and then...I guess I just cracked."

Deb stood up, moving to sit next to Abby. "You lost your baby," she murmured quietly, wrapping her arm around Abby's shoulders. "You were
under an enormous amount of stress, and in a lot of pain...physically and emotionally...it's no surprise you acted the way you did. Miscarriage can make or break a relationship...some last through that kind of experience...and some don't."

Abby bit back tears. "But we could have," she whispered. "If I'd given it a chance."

They fell in to silence, Abby leaning in to Deb's embrace, just letting the tears fall. Every time she admitted all this to herself, she broke down. It never got any easier... It was supposed to fade with each passing day, but instead it stayed the same; a nightmare in full colour. Maybe one day it would disappear...but Abby couldn't see that happening without John. She couldn't face that kind of pain - which was in essence a pain shared between the two parents - alone; she just wasn't made for it. But, the way life was progressing...it didn't look like she had much choice. She would live her life alone, with nothing but the painful memories at the forefront of her mind, and distant images of happiness fading rapidly in the background.

"I've got an idea," Deb stated, and Abby abandoned her life analysis, looking up curiously. Deb had that look on her face...the secretive look...it only served to make Abby suspicious. "To cheer you up...a picnic, by the river, just you and me and enough food to feed us for a week."

Abby frowned and shrugged simultaneously. "I don't know..."

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun," Deb chided gently, getting to her feet. "I...have to go to work now - " Abby frowned again...hadn't she said she wasn't on till the morning? " - but let's say...meet by the waterfront...y'know, the usual place...at about...7?"

Abby opened her mouth to answer, but Deb interrupted again. "Great. I'll see you then - and don't let yourself get down about all this. It'll work out."

Before Abby could say anything else, Deb was out of the door. What was *that* all about?! Clearly Deb had taken it upon herself to be head the Let's Cheer Up Poor Miserable Abby committee...and whilst she appreciated the sentiment, she would really rather be alone, brooding, with her thoughts.

Oh well. Maybe a picnic would be fun?...

*****