Title: The More Things Change…
Author: Allie. Me. Hello waves
Spoilers: Um, not unless you haven't watched Season 10. And even then, not really. No.
Summary: Carter. Abby. Confessions. Apologies. Discoveries.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, do you really think Thandie Newton would still be traumatizing my weekly television watching experience? And do you think that Carbies would be in this pickle of a nightmare in the first place? Really? No.
A/N: So I got this idea months ago. But actually the idea just the final two paragraphs of the whole story. I had the ending in my head, and I couldn't figure out how to do anything with it. And then I started writing. And I couldn't stop. And this is what happened. And it's a one-chapter smackaroo, so don't ask because I'm not doing more. No more.
I hope you all enjoy. I've been in absolutely wretched Carby withdraw lately, and I hope that this serves to help at least one of you out there feeling the same. For the full effect, put on "Come Away With Me" by Norah Jones as you're reading. It was the inspiration for the final two paragraphs and it was playing throughout the entire writing process. Gracias. Merci. Enjoy. REVIEW.
There's something about this place that is comforting and familiar to her. Something about having the same slab of cement below her feet, where so many memories were made. The foundation of this building, to some extent, is also the foundation of their relationship. But just like the two of them, everything else about this place has changed. One glance from the ambulance bay is all it takes to notice that this quickie-mart convenience store is no Doc Magoo's. And one glance at either one of them whilst mid-conversation together is all it takes to realize that they are no longer who they were, either.
But in both cases, the foundation remains. The soul and the heart of the matter is the same as it was in the beginning. Doc Magoo's burned to a shell of the original architecture - coincidentally, at the same exact moment their relationship was going up in flames along with it. She's often contemplated the irony of that night and what it meant on a larger scale. And the connection between that greasy spoon and their relationship has brought her comfort over the past year or so.
The building has changed. A new and very different experience to be had inside, yet built directly upon the original and remaining cement slab.
She, too, has changed. And it's hard to miss the changes that have taken place in him over the past year. They've both grown into different people, and it's obvious to all around that the dynamic between them is different as well. It's that same foundation, though, that keeps bringing them both back. No matter how hard they try to fight it or how deeply they have changed, they simply cannot ignore the history between them. And she wonders if the successful rebuilding of the quickie-mart upon the same foundation of Doc's is a sign of good things to come for her future with him.
But is there a future with him at all? His actions this past year have been anything but promising. What if he's going to tell her he's glad they've survived as friends? Does she want to be friends? Does she actually want to be more than friends, or is she happy how things are? And if it comes down to it, is she willing to risk her current status of contentment with life in order to try again with him?
Questions. Worries. Things left unsaid. All of which are calmly fluttering through her mind as she takes her coffee from the clerk and slowly walks towards the chair-lined counter on the other side of the mart. Outside the window, she sees that the rain has started to taper off and the view of hospital lights reflecting off of wet puddles takes her back to another time such as this. Another time in which she and he met on this very same foundation, on a night very much the same as this. It was the first time they had ever shared coffee together at Doc's. It was also the first time they had established any real connection and understanding between another. She remembers it all so fondly - the apologies, the jokes, the stories, and the hot fudge sundaes. It was the night that it all began. And as she sits on a stool in the very same location as that now-ghostly booth, she can't help but wonder if this night will bring much of the same. They haven't sat down for a cup of coffee in over a year - since before he left for Africa the first time - and although the past two months have seen them grow in friendship and emotion, the conversations are forever clouded by the unstated apologies and hidden feelings of hurt and anger still somewhat present after all this time.
It is this very reason that she decided to do something about it. Although she is glad to have him back in her life, the inability to genuinely talk to him has been driving her mad. She misses him. Misses the comfort of simply being in his presence. And she's determined to tell him everything she has thought and felt since that night of the eclipse more than one year ago. All scars must be shown, all emotions laid out on the table, all wounds re-opened so that they can truly begin to heal. Not until then will she feel as though everything is right between them again. Or at least as right it could be. And she only hopes that he is feeling open-minded enough tonight to sit patiently and listen.
The answers are not long away, however, as she watches him dodge a puddle and race into the store, smiling slightly as he makes his way towards her and shakes the raindrops out of his hair.
"Hey" she says simply, smiling back and handing him a cup of coffee. He thanks her for it but gives her a slight raise of the eyebrow as if he is wondering how she ever remembered exactly how he takes his coffee. Nonetheless, he takes a seat on the stool beside her and they sit in silence, both staring out the window, until he takes a deep breath and dives right in.
"So I've been thinking…" and he stops himself when he sees a questioning look upon her tired face. "No, I mean I know you're the one that invited me here and said you needed to talk, but I've been thinking…and I don't think I can do this anymore."
His attention has returned to the streets outside the window, leaving her staring at his profile as she takes in his words. "I'm sorry, what is it that you can't do?"
"This," is the only response he gives, waving a hand back and forth between the two of them.
"This?" she repeats, mimicking his same gesture. "What's this?"
"This. Us. I just…"
"Okay wait. Just stop right there." Her face has now contorted into a mixture of amusement, fear and utter confusion all rolled into one as she tries desperately to make sense out of it all. She came here to lay her emotions out on the table. She was not prepared for him to go first. "What 'us' would you be talking about? Because the way I see it, you got rid of 'us' when you wrote that letter last year. And even though you're back and things have been good between us lately, there was no 'us' as far as I could tell. There's been a few laughs and some pretty good talks, but maybe I'm the only one that's noticed how awkward even those moments have been…"
"That's exactly what I'm talking about," he interrupts, finally turning to look at her. "I can't stand this, the way we can talk to each other and laugh together and have a great time but it's so awful on top of that because…it's like we don't even know each other anymore. And I can't keep doing this."
"Well at least we're on the same page about that. I don't know you anymore, John. I can tell you're still the same man that I once knew, but we've just missed out on so much and you've….changed…a lot."
"And you haven't?"
She sighs deeply before continuing. She knows that this could go on forever, and the best thing right now is to take a deep breath, a different approach, and try again.
"How's your mom doing?"
The way in which his lips upturn slightly at that question lets her know that he's aware of what she's doing. He thinks they don't know each other anymore. So she's decided to get to know him again. Start from scratch. They have a lot of catching up to do if they want their real friendship back.
"She's good. Remember I told you a few months ago that she was coming to visit for a few weeks?" At her silent nodding, he continues, "Well, she left about eight days ago and things went really well. We got a lot of things off of our chests. And for the last several days it was amazing, ya know? It was like I finally had my mother back."
He receives a genuine smile from her in response and instead of continuing, he shoots the same question back her way. She laughs slightly, thinking of the circumstances under which he last saw Maggie, but she takes a sip of her coffee and smiles as she fills him in on the details. Maggie and Eric are living in Minnesota, she tells him, and she hasn't seen either of them since the Eric left Chicago last year. They're both on their meds and doing incredibly well, and Abby made it clear to them about 6 months ago that she would no longer be able to play the role of savior and rescuer - that the two of them had to take responsibility for their disease and their lives, because she had her own life to get on with.
As she finishes updating him, he is in shock over the strength she has gained since the last time they were truly together. He admires everything about her and always has, and he's never lost sight of the struggle that she endured while trying to hold her family together single-handedly. And it is his admiration of her that leads him to make his next statements, once again breaking into the silence that had fallen around them.
"I've been pretty involved in the foundation lately."
Again, her eyebrows raise but she lets it go, deciding that they must be taking the 'random and open' approach to tonight's conversation. Which is perfectly fine with her, as long as the conversation is had. He smiles at her reaction, however, and his eyes tell her to wait it out - he has a point.
"I had been pushing them for months to change the purpose of it all. No more concert halls or museums or any of that crap. I want the money to be used for real issues, to go to places where it's really needed."
This wins him a look of much approval from the woman on the opposite stool, as he knew it would. And he can't wait to tell her the plans that he has put into place.
"Kem wanted me put most of the donations toward her AIDS trial," he states, staring at the window again and therefore missing the look of sadness that overcame her face at the mention of the other woman's name. "And it's a really good idea, they need as much sponsorship as they can get. It's just…when I found out that she was lying to me about the baby and Peter and everything, I realized that giving her everything the foundation had to offer would just be letting her win. And I don't hate her - and I definitely don't want to punish her patients - but I also don't want her to win, ya know? She set out to take advantage of me and get my money, and she used the baby to do it and…"
He is silenced by the sensation of her hand suddenly resting upon his. She knows all too well what it did to him when he found out the truth about Kem. Even more so how it effected him to find out that his unborn son was not, in fact, his. And although it's been four months since Kem's revelation, she knows that he still feels the loss of the child that he could have had. She longs to ease his pain, but all she can do is touch his hand - a moment quickly ended when he softly pulls it away.
"Anyway…the point is, I don't want to punish her patients - like I said - so I convinced the foundation board to set up an annual donation. It's only about 1/4 of what she was asking me for, though. Which might sound cruel, but I just felt like there were other causes that needed our help just as desperately."
"Like what?" she questions, all too intrigued to find out how his views have changed from the non-blinking man who signed a check for 10 million dollars in her presence last year to fund the construction of a concert hall.
"Well the budget for the foundation is at 85 leftover after our donation to the Congo, and I wanted 20 of that to go to County. More doctors, nurses, better equipment and running time - better patient care overall. Another 30 to Cancer research, going into a special fund I had them name for Bobby. And 5 to the rehab centers and AA programs here in Chicago. Because they've done so much…for Chase, for me…and you…"
She smiles again, this time the smile of someone highly impressed and in awe of the man before her. The same man who - not too long ago - argued with her over the use of his money and was adamant about not wanting to be involved in it whatsoever. He has changed. That she is certain of. And although in the beginning, when he was still with Kem, she worried that he had taken a turn for the worse she now realizes that he has found the right path and is making incredible progress in discovering what he truly wants his life to represent. And she can only think of one response.
"Why the sudden change?"
"Someone once told me to stop running from my money and actually use it to support my beliefs," he replies, smiling at her and knowing that she remembers that conversation as well. "Told me there are still children freezing to death every winter, and that I can do something about it if I really wanted to. I could help out anywhere that I wanted."
"You can. And I think you made excellent choices, I really do. I'm sure everyone will be more than grateful. Using your wealth instead of hiding from it? It's not a bad thing when you use it to create more-"
"Abby." he says quietly, interrupting her quick and ongoing thoughts. She turns toward him, facing him with her whole body and giving him her utmost attention. "Even after all those sponsorships and donations, we had 30 of the annual budget still untouched. And it's being donated to the research and treatment of Bi-polar disorder and other forms of depression and mania."
He awaits a response but is met simply with her questioning eyes and open-mouthed jaw.
"I, um…I don't know what to say. Thank you, John…"
"No, it's the least I could do. Honestly."
And he watches in slow motion as the smile and gratitude disappears from her face, to be replaced immediately by what can only be described as disgust and rage. "The least you could do?"
"I wanted to help, Abby. And after everything that happened with us, I just wanted…"
"To make it all better with ten million dollars? Or however much it is?"
"Twenty-five, and no. I know that I can't just sign a check as a way back into your life, okay? But I saw what that disease did to you - what having to deal with Maggie and Eric did to you. And what it did to us. I was there too, ya know? I might not have grown up with it, but I saw it Abby. And I want to help. And I'm sorry if you think it's all a pity donation for everything that happened in the past year…"
"I don't want you to be sorry about that, okay John? It's amazing and…twenty-five million dollars is just…I mean there aren't words for it. But that's not what I want you to be sorry for."
It is now his face that is confused and angered, unable to comprehend where things suddenly took a wrong turn. Again. "Then what am I supposed to be apologizing for? What just happened here, Abby? Because I thought we were having a great talk, catching up…and now suddenly you're mad because I want to help your mom and brother and everyone else like them?"
"No! It's great, okay? It's amazing. I'm sorry for snapping at you about it. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. And for that matter, while I'm apologizing…I'm sorry I was always so negative when we were together. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. I'm sorry that I didn't live up to your expectations and I'm sorry…I'm just sorry."
He watches as she grabs her coffee and rushes out of the store, making her way back into the hospital. His shift has ended but he has the urge to follow her and finish what she had just started. The minute the topic of 'us' and what went wrong was broached, she bolted. And since she was the one who initiated this little get-together, he is curious about what has just occurred.
And so he, too, picks up his coffee and exits out into the balmy Chicago night. The rain has finally ended, but it has left the late-August air humid and thick. He pulls at his shirt collar in an attempt to cool himself as he walks slowly back into the ER, wondering what he'll say to her and how it will all end. He finds her in the lounge, her back to him as she rummages through her locker, and he realizes for the first time what the biggest perk of this new lounge is: a lock on the door. And so he locks them both in, making it impossible for anyone to interrupt them. He knows that she can leave at any time if she chooses - unlocking is as simple as locking - but he hopes that just being able to end any outside distraction will be enough to give them some time to finish this conversation.
At the sound of the door locking, she turns her head toward it and notices him standing there. She greets him with an exasperated sigh and she slams her locker shut and crosses her arms. It's Defensive Abby now, he realizes, and therefore he approaches carefully.
"I'm sorry, too, you know." He sees the look of sarcasm in her eyes and knows that she doesn't believe him. "I am. I'm sorry I wasn't more understanding about Eric. It was crazy of me to expect you to leave him there and stay here with me. Even for just one night. And I'm sorry about how I treated you after the…after the funeral. I know it wasn't your fault. And it wasn't his either. I was just so…Gamma was the only person that ever really loved me, but I had convinced myself but I would be okay because I had you. And then you went to get Eric and then the whole disaster at her funeral and it just hurt. A lot. I felt like I was nowhere near being a top priority in your life and that I would always fall third behind your mom and Eric. And I didn't know what to do. It wasn't that I was mad at you about what had happened. I wasn't mad. But I just figured that I was wrong about you - you never loved me, did you?"
"John, I…I don't…" is all she can reply before he interrupts and moves closer to her.
"I loved you, Abby. And I was so confused and I couldn't handle being here anymore - not with Gamma's memory to deal with and then coming to terms with the fact that I was losing you. So I left. Africa seemed like the best and quickest escape, and I just needed some time to figure everything out. But when I was there, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I just wanted to come home and tell you I was sorry and try to work on making things better, because I hated that we were falling apart. And then the…and then they came and they put that gun to my head…" he continues, now staring at the floor and clearly reliving the moment as if it were happening in the present-tense, "…and I thought I was going to die. I kept thinking that I would die there and never be found. That they would kill me and Luka and everyone else and no one would ever know we were gone. And then I realized I would never see you again, and I just…I almost died out there, Abby," he states, this time looking directly into her shocked and frightened eyes, "I almost died and the only thing that scared me more than death was that I would never get to tell you how much I loved you."
At this point, he stops long enough to take a deep breath and watch as she takes a few steps toward him. She places her hand upon his face and he can see the frightened tears that are welling in his eyes. But he isn't finished confessing yet, and he knows that he won't survive any longer if she doesn't know the entire truth. So before she gets a chance to speak, he begins again.
"I came to your apartment that morning because I wanted to see you. I didn't even need you to wake up. I just wanted to be able to look at you and know that you were okay and that as long as we were both…alive…that something could be done to save 'us'."
"And then I took my key and kicked you out," she interjects solemnly as he nods in response.
"And then we had that fight and the news about Luka and I just didn't see anything worth staying for. It was like I loved you so much but that didn't matter, because I was all alone in that feeling. So I had nothing to stay here for. And out there it was so much simpler. And I wrote you that letter and I couldn't believe I was doing it - I couldn't believe I was the one ending it. But I didn't see any other options, Abby - I wish I could have, but I just…"
"I know. I didn't exactly welcome you home with open arms" she whispers, smiling at him sadly.
He laughs slightly and realizes how beautiful she looks at that moment.
"That was the problem, though. You never did anything with open arms. Affection wasn't exactly your strong point, and no matter how much I fought it…I couldn't kill off the feeling that you weren't in this for the same reason that I was. And when I met Kem, she was your opposite." Silence fills the room as he sees the hurt in her eyes at that statement. "She was nothing like you. She was emotionally open and affectionate toward me and she never hesitated to tell me how important I was to her."
"I'm sorry, John…"
"No. Because it wasn't until we came back to Chicago and I saw you again that I started to realize…she's your opposite, and that's the problem. Affectionate or not, she's still not you. And when I found out she was lying to me about the baby and using me for my money…Well, I realized that what you want isn't always what you need. I don't need what she has to offer. And affectionate or not, she's not you. She never will be."
He begins to take a few steps backward but pauses one last time.
"These past few months since I lost her…they've been really hard. But not because I lost her. Because I lost the baby. And I lost the fantasy. But I realized that I still have you. Even if it's not as 'us', it's still you. And me. And without your friendship, I don't know if I would have made it through this so easily."
Stepping toward him once again, she bites down on her lip and this only serves to make him smile widely as he pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "And Abby? Whether you feel the same or not, I'm always going to be in love with you. I know that more than ever now. And I just thought you should know. Because I can't continue being friends with you if you don't know how I really feel."
Her face is flushed and a single tear has escaped down her cheek as she watches him step back and smile sadly. She wants to speak but the words cannot be found. He still loves her. He always will. She has never heard him use the word "love" in reference to her before tonight. And although she always suspected and even knew it somewhere deep inside, hearing it directly from him has anchored her feet to the floor and silenced her voice completely. And with thousands of thoughts screaming into her mind, she can do nothing but watch as he walks out the door and makes his way toward home.
It is three full days before she sees him again, their schedules having conflicted and he being so busy with the foundation as of late. But she knows that today he is working and she has left a note on his locker requesting him to meet her after his shift. She knows that he'll come. He's not angry with her. He's in love with her. In love. Her mind reels and her face breaks into a grin every time she thinks about it. But she is interrupted from her thoughts yet again as the door to the roof opens and he steps out into the early night air. Walking over to the ledge where she is standing, he takes a spot beside her and they both stare out over the city for a few moments before she speaks.
"It's not that I didn't love you," she starts, immediately catching his attention. "It's that I loved you so much that it scared the hell out of me."
She knows that he is watching her, but she also knows that she can't look him in the eye just yet. She has to get this out, and so she continues to stare at the city beneath her.
"Everyone I've ever loved has hurt me. Left me. Scarred me in some way. And then I started to love you and I just freaked out. I figured one day you'd talk to Luka and find out how unhealthy it is to be with me," she says as she gives him a quick glance and a wry smile. "I didn't want to get hurt. And I didn't want to end up hurting you. So I figured the easiest option was just to play it safe. To be with you and be happy for the most part, but keep us both safe by keeping my distance. I couldn't let us get too comfortable, because then I would have been a disaster if you ever left me. Which, by the way, you promised you never would…"
He quickly takes to staring down at his hands, realizing that their fall-out was not entirely her fault. He may have always loved her and been there for her, but she was scared of losing him and he made sure that she did - in fact - lose everything about him.
"It's okay though, ya know, I learned a lot after you left. It took losing you to make me realize that I couldn't keep living like that. So I decided to go back to med school, and I called Maggie and Eric and told them that I would always love them but they were on their own. And that made our relationships a lot stronger, surprisingly. We're really close now, but the weight's off my shoulders about having to take care of them. And I never would dealt with that or with med school…or with making myself happy in general…if you hadn't left. It just hit me that I can't do this," she says, again gesturing between them both, "until I learn how to be happy on my own. And I am now. I'm happy. But…I miss you."
"I still shouldn't have sent the letter, though. I should have come home and told you face to face what I was feeling," he admits as he rubs his hands together in the nervous habit that she knows too well.
A smile and knowing eyes are what she gives him in return. "You're right. The letter was a stupid idea. And it was even worse than in person, because it was written on a piece of paper that Frank could fish out of the trash and read to the entire hospital." His look of shock causes her to giggle slightly before she drives home her point. "Yes, Carter, they all read it. Which was quite humiliating for me, so thank you for that. You should just be glad that Chuny hugged you when you came home instead of strangling you like she was planning on for months…"
Her eyes tell him that she is joking, but only somewhat. And he wants to apologize again, but he senses that it's unnecessary and he would only be told that it's in the past. He's amazed at how much she has grown. How much she changed. Especially for a woman who once said that people could never change.
"You know, I would have said yes. That night at the restaurant…? Had you asked, I would have said yes. And I know that whatever I said that night is what made you change your mind, and I'm sorry. I didn't understand the importance of what you were asking, and I just…I didn't want to hope too hard that a proposal was actually coming up. But then I found the ring that night and I…well I got even more scared. I figured the fact that you had the ring and decided not to propose meant that you were finished with me and had realized what a disaster I am to be with. And I couldn't stop myself from pulling away and being emotionally distant. I didn't know what else to do. I was scared shitless, ya know? But I would have said yes. Because I did love you. More than anyone else."
It is now that she chooses to turn to him and look directly into his dark and sparkling brown eyes. She knows that this is the moment that will change everything, and she has to make sure he's paying attention. So she takes his hands in her own and takes a deep breath.
"And the point is…I still love you. I'm still in love with you. I never stopped. I just figured that you would come home eventually and we could work it out. But then you came back with her and I realized that I had blown it, so I tried to move on. But I can't do it. It's always going to be you. Even if it's not always me for you."
It's his turn to bite down upon his lip this time as he strokes his thumbs across the tops of her hands. Letting go of one, he cups her cheek and smiles. "Abby. There's no way it would ever be anyone but you. I can't stop thinking about you, no matter where I am or who I'm with. And I'm always going to love you."
"Would it be okay if we…tried 'us' again?" she whispers to him, eyes again focused on the ground below.
Reaching out, he takes her into his arms and waits until her head is situated comfortably in it's designated spot directly under his chin. Leaning down, he kisses her hair softly and whispers into the night air, "I think that would be okay with me."
She hugs him more tightly, smiling as she finally lets herself relax into his embrace. "Coffee and pie?" she offers as she pulls back to look into his eyes, arms still surrounding one another. But the moment is cut short as the sound of his pager breaks into the comfortable silence that had surrounded them. Kissing her cheek, he promises to catch up with her as soon as the trauma is finished and she watches as he races back down the stairs into the vortex of the ER.
It is five hours later as she's reading medical journals on her couch when she hears a quiet knocking upon her door. Removing the afghan from around her body and placing the magazine back onto the coffee table, she readjusts the straps of her tank top and re-ties the strings of her pajama bottoms before moving to open the door. After 2 minutes and several unlocking procedures, she finally gets past her own security system and swings the door open to be met by his figure on the other side. He is leaning haphazardly against her door frame and his face is downward as he examines a spot on the hallway carpet. As she leans herself against the opposite side of the doorframe, he raises his eyes to meet hers and they both simply stare. No words are needed to express the emotions that are running between them at the moment. Every needed word had been spoken to the fullest extent over the past few days, and especially within the past hours. And so he steps toward her and pushes the hair behind her ears, resting his hands upon her bare shoulders. She has never looked more beautiful than she does in a tank top and plaid flannel pants, with a smile playing across her lips. Her most comfortable. His most enjoyed look on her. And it is one that he has missed for so long. It is mere seconds before he lets himself lean into her and meet her lips with his own. It is not a passionate kiss. It is one that could barely be considered a kiss at all. Light and simple, feather-soft and delicate. Pulling away, he looks into her eyes and sees nothing but pure love. Something he would have doubted before, but knows better of now. And knowing his love for her is reciprocated is the greatest feeling in the world.
She leans in to kiss him quickly once more before stepping backward into her apartment, pulling him with her slowly as she keeps a tight hold on his left hand. Closing the door behind himself, he follows willingly as she leads them lovingly and seductively into the bedroom that he is once again confident enough to call 'ours' instead of 'hers'. And he lays her down on the bed where they have already created so many lasting memories, he knows that he was right all those years ago: No matter what comes between them, they're going to be okay.
Fin.
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