"Oh, my God," a voice said above him. "Someone get in here!"
"Carter?" another voice sounded. This one was a male, unlike the other's.
The feet were around him now. The lights flickered and finally drew to a black.
-
"John?"
The voice was the first thing he'd heard in a while. It was the only thing he had heard in a while. But it seemed like forever. The last thing he'd felt was hitting the ground.
"Dr. Carter?"
His eyes were forced open. He did it against his will, eager for something. That, too, was unknown.
"Oh, my God," he said, looking around the room.
"No, man," the voice said. "It's Romano. Not God."
"Where's Abby?" he asked, attempting to sit up straight while ignoring Romano's remark. Something struck his side and he fell backward muttering a "damn it," and holding his side. Romano eased him back into the pillows propped up behind him with a level hand.
"Abby?"
"Yeah," he said, still wincing at the pain.
"Are you delirious or something, doctor?" He put a hand to Carter's head, but Carter hastily knocked it away. He searched the room as much as he was able from the bed.
"Where is she?"
"Who?"
"Abby!" he said. His voice had grown strangely angry.
"Dr. Carter," Romano said, "are you aware that you were punched in the nose twice, (it's broken) and that you were kicked in the side? By the way, your rib is broken."
"What?" Carter said. "Is Abby okay?"
"Abby?" Romano said. "Cute nurse downstairs in the ER who - "
"Yes, yes!" Carter said, frustrated. "Where is she?"
"I don't know," he said.
"She hurt?"
"No," he said, "he didn't get her. Did-was she in there with you? Did Kovac get her too?"
"No," he said surely. "No, she wasn't there."
"Want me to call her?"
Carter nodded eagerly. "Can I call her?"
"I'd rather you didn't get up," Romano reasoned, leaving the room. "Be right back."
Carter was found in silence now. His eyes still searched for Abby, trying to trace any possible clue in the room to her. He counted his fingers dumbly, then traced a few cuts on his hand. Only one of them was stitched shut, the others weren't too deep. He guessed they were from the glass, but didn't remember it.
"She's not home," Romano said, suddenly returning.
He fell back into the pillows harder. "Find her, please, Robert - "
In mid-word, he saw Romano turn his head outside of the door. He held his hand up and called out to someone. He didn't want to be bedridden now; he wanted to get out and take a walk in the cold. He wanted to take a walk with Abby, too. Even if it was around the OR hallways.
"Here's someone for you, Carter," Romano said. "Enjoy."
He turned, not amused. The door slowly opened, and he saw Abby. She pushed the door open and smiled at him. Her coat was hung over her arm as she walked in, now crossing the arm over the other. Neither of them said anything, just smiled. Carter's grin was more of something happy, whilst Abby's was completely for comforting purposes.
"What did you do now, John?" she said simply with a bit of sarcasm. She sat down in the chair next to the bed and put a hand on her arm.
"You're okay," he said, taking her face in her hands.
"Of course I'm okay," she said. "John, look at you! Luka broke your rib and your nose - "
"My nose?" he asked.
"Just a displacement here," she said. She lifted her hand and touched it tenderly. "Oh, sorry. Does that hurt?"
He shook his head, but couldn't say anything. Her finger was still on his face. He wanted it to stay there, but she pulled it to her lap. Her hands were twisting anxiously, as usual.
"John, what were you thinking?"
"He came over to me and just started saying a bunch of crap," he said. "Told me I ruined everything between the two of you."
She nodded, breathing out. She shifted, but didn't say anything. Careful to let her eyes wander, she held them to his stare.
"What is he talking about, ruining things?" he asked carelessly. "He's the one who's choosing to move away. Asshole."
She bit her lip and nodded. "I told you not to say anything to him, John."
"I didn't, though," he fought calmly. "He just burst into the lounge. I swear Abby; I told myself to stay away from him that day. When was that?"
She stared at him. "It was today, John. Promise me you didn't start this?"
"You don't believe me?"
"I do," she assured him, nodding. "Just tell me that you didn't throw the first punch or anything."
"I didn't hit him at all."
She nodded, then finally admitted a real smile. "I was scared. Your shift was over at noon, and when you didn't come home I freaked out."
He watched her talk.
"I'm glad you're okay," she said honestly. She reached up and kissed his forehead. "I really am."
"Always nice to hear," he said with a nod. "Thanks. I'm glad I'm okay too."
She smiled again, now half-surely. He barely managed one back, and again they sat in silence.
"You're thinking about something," he said.
She looked at him, questioning this sudden accusation. "What?" she asked.
He nodded. "What are you thinking?"
"Um," she began. Her voice was quivery, giving away at different intervals. "Well," she started again.
He took her hand and held it, without thinking about it. Kind of like an instinct, kind of like a wanting for him. "What is it?" he asked, stroking her hand without looking at her.
She contemplated this, you could tell by the way she breathed. "Never mind," she giggled. The giggle was the same nervous one that she had taken on recently many times. His face asked hers something, but she disregarded it. "Look," she said, "Romano said that you're out of here tomorrow."
"Already?"
"Only if you promise to stay in bed, and you can't go back to work for while."
"How boring," he answered.
"Beats this lonely hospital bed," she said, placing her hands on the rails.
"I don't know about that," he said. "At least here, nurses pass by every once in a while and bring you lunch."
"I'm taking time off work," she said with a smile. "I'll be that nurse for you."
He squeezed her hand. "Why do you need time off of work, Abby?"
"I just want some time to myself before it starts becoming, well," she paused, "obvious to everyone. Plus, I'm gonna have to tell Weaver so I can get some scheduled maternity leave, and some time off before the baby is born to puke up my insides."
"Let me tell her," he said.
"What difference does it make?"
"I don't know," he said. "I don't really know why I even offered now that I think about it - "
"Could we do it together?" she asked.
"Why would you want me to be there?"
"Because, John," she said. Her eyes fell to the ground and stayed there for an instant. Her hands were still covering the other, twisting them raw. "I'm scared, okay?"
"Of Weaver?" he laughed.
"No," she hushed, "of everything else."
His laughter and smiles eased down to a comforting glance. "Come here," he said, taking her to his arms again. She began to choke on a few tears. Carter closed his eyes and breathed in her scent against her neck lovingly. He wanted to do something to lighten her load. Anything.
"Abby," he said. "Let me know if there's something, *anything* I can do. I'll do it."
She looked at him for an instant. Her eyes were pleading for something again, and he wished he knew what it was.
"You've done enough already," she laughed through tears.
"I don't care what I've already done," he said. He hugged her tighter. "I'll be there, with you."
She smiled into his shoulder. He felt her face against his and wanted to smile with her. But, he couldn't. He knew that she could barely smile. She could barely be at peace with herself right now, and therefore he wasn't able to. He wish he could just make it all go away. The feelings toward the situation. So Abby would be happy.
"Just be there with me when I go to Weaver," she asked. "Please, John."
