TITLE: Cloud My Memory (Part 8 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.

SUMMARY: It's a week later.

Cloud My Memory

The rain was pelting down outside in full force when he woke up, the overcast sky matching his mood perfectly. It was the beginning of a bad day preparing to get worse when he realized that he couldn't make breakfast. This revelation came to him after he stumbled out of bed, blearily making his way to the kitchen and putting some bread in the toaster.

Bang.

More smoke had billowed from the contraption, once more filling his apartment with the choking stench of burning and making his eyes water. He wasn't crying, though. It was the smoke.

After getting dressed as quickly as he could manage in the stifling fumes, he headed out the door, towards County. He could get breakfast at Docs; not only would it tide over the ache in his stomach that had to be hunger, but he could also avoid Abby for a bit longer.

It had been a week since she had walked out of his apartment. Seven long, lonely days of reflection, retrospect and throwing things around his apartment. It was safe to say that most of his glasses were lying shattered at the bottom of his trash can.

Abby hadn't looked at him, spoken to him, gone anywhere near him unless she had to, preferring to keep her distance and talk in hushed tones to Luka, or Chuny, or Luka, or Haleh, or Luka...

He had come to the conclusion that it wasn't about the alcohol, or even them having too much to `contend with`. In his mind, it was perfectly clear what she really wanted, and that was the tall, dark Croatian doctor.

Damnit. It wasn't *his* fault he was American. If he had known it would come down to this, then he would've made a conscious effort to be born in to another country. It certainly seemed to attract the females - all the nurses ever talked about was the "hunky foreign doctor".

"Penny for your thoughts."

Carter looked up, realizing he must've reached Docs successfully and managed to sit himself in a booth, all the time acting on the auto-pilot that kicked in when he went in to analyzing mode. Her smiling face peered down at him curiously.

"Hey Deb," he greeted, his eyes sweeping over her figure then reaching her eyes again. "You look tired."

Jing Mei chuckled, sliding in to the seat opposite him and picking up a menu. "Not as tired as you," she countered, "I thought maybe you were sleeping with your eyes open."

Carter managed a small smile, watching his friend as she perused the menu. "I was wondering if it's too late to become foreign."

She glanced up at him with mild amusement, one eyebrow raised. "You are foreign...in other countries."

"Right, but I want to be foreign *here*," he stressed, waving over the waitress, "I'll have scrambled eggs with toast and a coffee."

Jing Mei ordered the same, placing the menu carefully back in it's original position as if it was vitally important. "What brings all this on, John?" she asked, "Decided you don't like being American after all?"

Carter paused before continuing sheepishly. "Foreign guys seem to have more appeal than American guys," he shrugged. "I figured I may as well try and further my opportunities."

"Abby's a fool."

Carter glanced up at her, surprised, as the waitress placed their orders in front of them. "What?"

"She's a fool," Jing Mei repeated, picking up her fork and digging enthusiastically in to her breakfast. "I mean, Luka's nice and all, but he's...I don't know, a little...scary." She paused, nodding in agreement with herself. "Yeah. I mean, brooding is all very well and good but you can't marry brooding. Think how dull it would be."

He considered this, piling eggs on to a slice of toast with painstaking precision. "You think so?"

"I know so," she told him, meeting his eyes, "It's her own fault if she can't see how great you are. No one's special enough to make you want to be different, just so you'll fit in with their weird twisted little fantasies - "

There was a noise, and they both looked up. Abby stared down at them, looking confused, annoyed, and upset, all at the same time. It always fascinated him that she could be experiencing so many different emotions at once - she truly was the most conflicted bundle of insecurities he had ever come across. Maybe that was the main attraction.

He felt his breakfast turn in his stomach, a strange feeling of nausea rising in his throat at the sight of her, so close....and yet so far.

"Morning," she greeted quietly, watching Carter squirm in his seat and look away from her unrelenting stare.

"Morning Abby," Jing Mei responded calmly, fixing the other woman with a cool stare, "Getting yourself some breakfast?"

Abby looked away from Carter, turning her brown eyes to Jing Mei's. "Just getting coffee for a few people," she replied, shuffling awkwardly on the spot and finally swiveling to face the counter. "Have a nice breakfast."

"Send our regards to Luka," Carter muttered, loud enough for to hear and for him to feel a sense of pride in the petty statement. He didn't look up; so he didn't see her face frozen, her eyes clouded with regret. When he looked up again, she was gone. It was almost as if had never been there at all - if it wasn't for the inevitable feeling of guilt inside him, he would've thought it had all been in his imagination.

The proud grin on Jing Mei's face told him otherwise.

"See? She doesn't deserve you, John," she spoke up, waving her fork in the air for emphasis. "If she wants to waste her time serving up coffee to the Euro Killer Doc of Death, then that's her own problem."

Carter frowned, staring pitifully down at his food which was fast becoming cold. Congealed eggs stared back at him, only serving to remind him of when he would make Abby breakfast. Everything reminded him of her...memories surfaced each day, each hour, bringing with them a tide of pain and frustration. He just wanted to forget. He wanted to move on.

But he couldn't.

"John?"

He looked up in to her eyes, sighing deeply, all his worries escaping with his breath. "Yeah?"

Jing Mei paused, then reached across to squeeze his hand. "Maybe you should talk to her."

***********

It was pure hope, an unfounded trust in human nature, that had brought him there.

People milled around, talking quietly, sipping strong coffee and nibbling unsurely on whatever unidentifiable item they had picked up from the trays of food by the entrance. Carter stood, watching, his eyes open wide in case he would catch sight of her.

Well, if she was there, she hadn't shared. Two men and a woman had bared their souls to the blank-faced crowd, each trying to convince themselves that they were different. Carter knew all about it - he had thought the same thing for a long time. He had only come to realize the truth when she had made him see it. It was because of her that he had reached this place in his life, and he couldn't just forget that. When someone has such a profound impact on your life, you can't just brush it aside, try as you might. And he had tried.

A soft, lilting tune drifted in from another room - a familiar baritone soothing people's nerves. If the AA people had planned recovery by music, they hadn't chosen well.

"Make it one for my baby..."

Carter's eyes idly moved around the room, picking out faces, expressions, nervous glances and awkward shrugs. The few people who seemed to have any confidence in themselves were the people who had shared their stories, the relief etched on their faces. They were released, able to talk more freely, expand on their problems, start the road to recovery.

"...and one more for the road."

Occasionally, people would glance his way, curiosity getting the better of them. Granted, he didn't look normal, stood at the back on his own, sipping coffee, keeping a careful eye on the comings and goings. Every now and then, he would whip out his cell phone, check the tiny screen, and then put it away again, a look of quiet disappointment on his face.

He didn't know why he expected her to call him. If she hadn't called him in a week, what made him think she would today? Especially after the experience in Docs that morning. She had avoided him even more for the rest of the day - if that was possible - and Luka shot him a few glares across the trauma room. This pissed him off more than anything else - what right did *Luka* have to be pissed off?! He was the one stealing away people's girlfriends.

Okay, okay, so Carter may or may not have wanted to do the same thing to Luka when he had been with Abby. But that wasn't the point. He hadn't acted on it, he had remained at the sidelines...and got himself a nice tidy drug addiction to tide him over. Really, if he thought about it, it was all Luka's fault. All the troubles of the universe could be related back to that hateful bastard. And he wasn't just being bitter. He was fairly convinced that Luka had had a hand in world hunger.

The clock above the exit told him that if he didn't hurry, he'd get trapped in the next meeting - and he wasn't sure how much more he could take before wanting to take drastic action to end the misery. It was ironic how something that was supposed to help you ended up making you wish you could take a knife to your wrists.

He sighed, and pushed himself off the wall that had been his leaning post. He pulled on his coat, taking one last look around the crowded room, and headed for the exit. A few people smiled shyly at him, one enthusiastic man waving cheerfully. Carter nodded in reply, making a hasty exit. He took in a lungful of cold night air, then coughed. The familiar smell of nicotine teased his senses, and he shuddered. Damn, he hadn't realized how badly he needed a cigarette. Hoping he could blag one from the owner of the offending tempting smoke, he rounded the corner of the building and stopped in his tracks., surprised, shocked, and calm all at the same time.

"Hey...."

**********