TITLE: Denial (Part 10 of `In Spite Of Me`)

AUTHOR: Ceri

EMAIL: ceriellis@yahoo.com

CATEGORY: JC

RATING: Universal

SPOILERS: Probably...

ARCHIVE: Sure, just ask

DISCLAIMER: They don't belong to me. Just the ideas, twisted angst, and all the trappings of this particular Carby love-in - they're all mine, mua ha ha.

AUTHORS NOTES: More thanks to my lovely beta's. In answer to a few people's questions...I have now idea how this will end, or on what chapter. All I know is that if I keep on piling on the angst, it could go one forever...and ever...and ever...

SUMMARY: Carter realizes his mistakes...but is he too late?

Denial

A single beam of sunlight filtered in through the gap in the curtains, falling across the kitchen table and highlighting Carter's arm. He paused, then opened his eyes.

He didn't remember his bed being this...wooden.

He sat up quickly, and realized what was going on. He had slept, sitting in the chair, draped across the kitchen table. Something about the fact that their was another woman in his bed, and it hadn't been Abby, had made him want to get out of there.

He vaguely remembered the previous night - effectively fucking things up with Abby, Deb coming over, something to do with marshmallows…

And uh, yeah, those marshmallows had factored pretty strongly in the rest of their activities. If it hadn't been for the over-whelming sense of guilt and anxiety, then *that* particular memory would've brought a smile. But the guilt was there, hanging over him like a rain cloud, any minute threatening to just crash and pour all over him.

God, why was he so stupid? Was it a genetic thing? He wouldn't be surprised, with his parents acting the way they did…maybe he had become so accustomed to their behaviour that he thought the right way to behave was to knock boots with your best friend when you were still in love with another woman.

Hmm. It didn't make so much sense anymore.

It wasn't that he didn't love Deb - he really did. With all his heart. But…but that was a different kind of love. She was one of his closest friends - the fact that they might never be that close again now didn't bear thinking about.

But he was making assumptions. Chances were, Deb would be just as embarrassed and horrified by all this as he was, and they would laugh it off. Yeah. That would happen. You know, 'cause life's that perfect.

But soon his thoughts had moved on to Abby. They weren't in a relationship anymore, but that didn't mean he didn't want to be. And, if they did reunite, would he be able to tell her about all this? *Should* he even tell her anything at all? Would it be better to leave her in the dark, and let himself rot away in silence and guilt forever more?

The trouble was, he had so many questions, and not a single answer. It was just like life to throw you so many damn questions, and then not give you the slightest of hints as to what the solution was. And this was something he needed to solve. Normally, he would ask Deb, or Abby. And therein lay the problem.

"John?"

Carter sighed, turning to see one of his problem's face to face. Jing Mei stared back at him, looking so pale, so fragile, wrapped up in his robe. Her face was a mixture of emotions - confusion, anger, frustration and pain. Pain that he had caused.

"Hey Deb."

She stepped closer to the table, sitting herself opposite him. There was a long silence as the birds made a helluva racket outside in the early morning sunshine, and Jing Mei just stared at Carter. Finally, she spoke up.

"It wasn't that bad, you know."

The tension disappeared, and they both started chuckling. Carter's eyes moved up to meet hers, and they shared a tender smile.

"I'm sorry…I just…it's…"

"Confusing?" she finished for him lightly. "I know. I don't expect you to marry me here and now, John. In fact, I wouldn't want that. My mother always told me, never marry someone who's in love with someone else."

He grimaced slightly, nodding. "Your mom sounds like a sensible person."

Jing Mei smiled softly, and reached across the table to give his hand a squeeze. "She has her moments. We all do. But seriously John - no strings, right? It was good - *great* - but that's it. Go…go find Abby. Tell her you love her. Tell her you can't stop thinking about her." She paused, a mock- bitter look on her face. "Tell her you yell her name out during sex with other people."

Carter sighed, embarrassed. "You're kidding?"

Jing Mei giggled, standing up. "Sadly no. But I can see how you can get us confused. You know, 'cause we look so alike." She started padding back towards the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" he called after her. There was a pause, then she turned to face him.

"I'm going home."

**********

A week passed, and he didn't see much of Deb or Abby. Two weeks, and Deb had only appeared to give him a friendly wink and a smile. Three weeks, and Carter was fairly convinced they had both disappeared off the face of the earth.

Either that, or they were avoiding him. Both explanations were equally plausible.

Carter had started doing night shifts. The antisocial hours didn't bother him - why would they when he was as single as they come? And, as far as he was concerned, if Deb and Abby wanted to avoid him, then it was helping them all out if he stayed out the way. It certainly made things easier for them. He just hadn't seen the daylight through the ER windows for a long time.

But that was hardly important. There were a lot of things more important than his problems - world hunger, for example. And every time he felt like making a beeline for the drug cabinet and taking enough pills to take down a small elephant, he'd just think about world hunger, or some other issue, and would remember that in comparison, his problems were insignificant.

Well, it had worked for a little while. Now he was getting to such a bitter stage that he hated world hunger for deriving him of his much-needed sympathy. Eventually, he just had to stop using that method. It was never a good sign when you reached that stage.

So he started coming up with other vices - chocolate, coffee, cigarettes, anything to distract him. One afternoon, after a morning of back pain and unsettling reminders of Lucy everywhere he turned, he had consumed ten candy bars, smoked three packets of cigarettes, and drunk a few pots of coffee, all in the space of an hour.

He was impressed with his capacity to binge, to say the least.

But none of this seemed to be helping with his problems - and the largest, looming on his horizon like an ominous blimp, was the most worrying. Abby. He had to get her back, regain her trust, spend the rest of his life with her...or he didn't know what would happen to him. With her, he didn't need vices. With her, he didn't need distractions. With her, he didn't need anything...didn't expect anything of himself...

So, the question was, why did he have this innate urge to fuck things up so royally?

That wasn't a question he could readily decipher. Hell, it would take a good few years of intense therapy to solve that particular conundrum. And, judging from his previous experiences of therapy, he wouldn't last for two seconds talking about himself. Thinking was all very well and good, but putting it all in to words was a completely different story. Maybe he should learn how to -

"Carter!"

Carter looked up from the chart in front of him on the table, and his face instantly contorted in to a frown. Bastard.

"Did you call psych on the guy in three?" Luka asked, fully entering the lounge and giving Carter a passing glance as he moved to the coffee pot.

"I did, but they're backed up," Carter replied coolly, turning his attention back to the charts and picking his pen up again, "God knows when they'll get round to a consult."

Luka nodded, pouring himself a mug full of steaming coffee, adding in some cream and sugar. Then, he turned, and watched Carter write as he sipped his drink. Carter looked up awkwardly.

"Anything else I can help you with?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"No," Luka answered, then stopped. "Oh, Abby says hello...hasn't seen you in a while." Luka paused, considering this. "You are doing a lot of night shifts I suppose."

Well, if he had ever heard a conversation stopper, that was one and a half. Carter stared in a mixture of confusion, surprise and pure, unbridled curiosity, unable to form words. Finally, he managed to speak.

"What?"

Luka took a leisurely sip of his beverage, clearly languishing the opportunity to drag the topic out. "Yeah. She said something about you must be avoiding her."

"I'm not avoiding her - " Carter started anxiously, and then stopped, a rather horrifying thought entering his mind. "How did you know she thought that?..."

Luka shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought you knew - we are...as one...reunited?" He paused, then nodded. "Yes. That is the word. Reunited."

Carter felt like the floor had disappeared from underneath him as he stared up at the other man, totally speechless. Abby? And the Croatian killer?! What the -

"Well, I gotta get back to work," Luka commented with a glance in Carter's direction, placing his half-empty coffee cup on the counter. He walked to the door, pausing in the exit.

"See ya."

Carter continued to stare at the lounge door, his eyes wide in shock. Luka. And Abby. Luka and Abby. Abby and Luka.

Okay, *now* he was fucked.

**********