Disclaimer: None of them belong to me, unless they have the Carolina
seal of approval on their ass.

 Author's Notes: Holy crap, I have no idea how many chapters this
story is going to have. So please hang in there while I improvise a
little. This chapter is from Carter's POV. Don't worry, I'm exploring
Luka and Abby's POVs later, so don't bug me about it.
 

  24 Steps: Part 14



  Confusion. The most inappropriate state of mind when your job is to
save lives. In a place as fast paced as an emergency room, the last
thing you want on your mind is nothingness. Yet as he stood there, the
sound of the slammed door still echoing on his mind, he felt nothing
but wrenching confusion.

  His heart still raced after his failed attempt to control Luka's
outburst. The table laid upside down on the floor and plastic cups of
coffee were scattered everywhere. He stood there still, scared this
was the eye of the storm and the winds would return to knock him over
again. He knew Luka would not be coming back and yet, he stood still.
A couple of minutes passed before the door opened.

  Dave looked at Carter with the same ignorance, looking around the
mess that was the lounge. "What the hell was that?" Dave finally
asked.

  It was the push Carter needed to finally move, and with Dave's help,
pick up the table and put it back in place. "I don't know," Carter
answered truthfully.

  "Oh, man, I thought he was gonna kill Weaver," Dave said with a huge
grin.

  Still dumbfounded, Carter just nodded slightly.

  "I mean, if she bitches me out one more time, I'm calling Kovac,"
Dave continued, with a couple of chuckles.

  Carter didn't say anything, and began to pick up the plastic cups
from the floor.

  "Oh man, I wished I had a camera. Hey, if we had to put them on a
ring, who do you think would win?" Dave asked. "I mean, Weaver has
that cane..."

  "Dave," Carter finally said.

  "Yeah?" Dave asked.

  "Shut up," Carter answered and after putting the cups on the table,
walked outside. Everyone was still murmuring and talking, and
gossiping about the earlier events; Mark and Kerry were no where to be
found.

  "No, I heard Weaver told him he couldn't date Abby because she used
to be a med student," Chuny told Amira as she ate some chocolate.

  "That doesn't make any sense, she's a nurse now," Amira added.

  "I'm just telling you what I heard," Chuny replied.

  "Chuny?" Carter asked, looking over a chart. "Gomez in 4 needs a new
IV bag."

  "I'm on a break," Chuny added, hovering her box of chocolates.

  "Then go to the lounge," Carter added, looking at her. She gave him
a look he knew he would pay for later and picked up her box of
chocolates, walking away. But he couldn't control the stories that
were dispersing throughout the hospital already. He knew somewhere on
the fifth floor someone was hearing the story of how Kerry was trying
to get Abby to dump Luka so Mark and Abby could go out and then Luka
gave Kerry a black eye.

  Shaking his head, he put his chart down and signed his name on it,
setting it on the rack. A few patients were waiting in chairs and he
glanced at the clock on the wall, desperate to leave the hospital and
talk to either Abby or Luka.

~*~

  "So like, Megan tells me that if I put ice on it, it wouldn't hurt.
But the spaz let the knife fall and she cut my foot," a young girl
said as she twirled some gum around her finger, staring down at
Carter.

  John inspected the cut, shooting glances at her every once in a
while. "Next time you might wanna pierce your nose with a needle, and
in a professional parlor."

  "I can't, I'm not 18 yet," the girl retaliated, shifting on the bed.

  Carter looked up, "Then you probably shouldn't be piercing
anything."

  "Oh come on, all my friends have nose piercings," she said with a
few chuckles.

  "Well, if your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do that too?"
Carter asked, peeling his gloves off his hands.

  She smiled, "Yeah, I guess."

  "Really," Carter added, absentmindedly writing something on his
chart.

  "Yeah, I mean, if they jump first they'd cushion the fall, right?"
she chuckled to herself.

  Carter looked at her for a moment, and then shook his head. "I'm
gonna send a med student to fix that up."

  "A student?" the girl said incredulously.

  Carter reached the door and looked back. "Maybe he can pierce your
nose with a scalpel." He heard her scoff and closed the door, looking
around the hallway. "Brian?"

  An energetic student turned his head to Carter and walked over
quickly with a bunch of papers on his hands. "Yes sir?"

  "Laceration on the right foot in exam three," Carter said.

  Brian looked lost for a moment, staring at Carter.

  "You do know how to do stitches, right?" Carter asked.

  "Yes sir," Brian said nervously.

  Carter nodded, leading Brian into the room. "If the foot comes off,
call me." He watched Brian's shocked face and closed the door. Letting
out a sigh, he put the pen on the pocket of his shirt, looking as all
around him, unfamiliar faces walked in, out, and around.

  The smell of Clorox as he walked by the janitor was intoxicating,
and as he came to a corner, he dropped his arms to the side and let
out a sigh. "Dave."

  Dave looked up from the wheelchair and smiled at Carter.

  "Having fun?" Carter asked as he crossed his arms.

  "Almost," Dave said. "Can you get me a beer?"

  "Dave, this is an emergency room, stop procrastinating," Carter
said, raising the wheelchair so that Dave would fall down, but it
didn't work.

  "Do you wanna know my philosophy of life, Carter?" Dave asked as he
stood up, smiling.

  "God, no," Carter replied.

  Dave chuckled, putting his arm around Carter as they walked towards
the desk. "Hard work often pays off after time, but laziness always
pays off now," Dave said, and raised his eyebrows slightly at the end.

  Carter looked at him, dumbfounded. "What?"

  Dave tapped Carter's head with his pencil and grabbed the chart.
"Think about that one."

  Carter watched him go, and rolled his eyes as he walked inside the
front desk. "Randi, have you seen Dr. Weaver?"

  "Check the ER," Randi replied behind the magazine she was reading.

  "We are..." Carter began to protest but stopped himself in time.
"How about Dr. Greene?" he added.

  "Want me to page them?" Randi asked, not moving.

  "No, no, that's ok," Carter let out a sigh and looked around, his
eyes landing on the board. "Why is the board empty when there's a
hundred patients waiting in chairs?"

  Randi turned around to look at him, "I have this new idea for
emergency efficiency," she said, watching as Carter crossed his arms,
waiting for her to continue, although by the look on his face she
could tell he was not in the mood. That didn't stop her.

  Randi took a deep breath, "Ok, you know how people are always coming
in here complaining about something?"

  Carter nodded slowly, a monotonous stare on his face.

  "Well, if we stop treating patients, then maybe they'll stop bugging
us," Randi said with a bright smile, showing him a mug with the same
phrase printed on it.

  Carter kept looking at her, feeling the tension pressing on the side
of his head, and the stress boiling the insides of his stomach. He
finally looked down, closed his eyes, and pinned the sides of his nose
with his fingers. "Except this is a hospital, not a department store,
and we are being paid to listen to people complain!" he snapped at
her, looking intense.

  "Gee, relax, it was just a joke," Randi said.

  Carter ran his hands through his hair, looking around. He kept
trying to count to ten, but couldn't get past 3. "Page Weaver," he
said softly and walked away.

  "You needed me, Carter?" Kerry said as if on cue, taking a chart
from the pile.

  Carter opened his mouth to say something, but didn't know what. The
chairs were piling up with patients, but he wanted to know what had
happened with Luka, Mark, Abby, and Kerry. He knew Kerry would not
give him any information, but you can't shoot a guy for trying.

  "Uh, there's... there's a lot of patients..."

  "I can see that," Kerry said, looking over her glasses. "Thank you
for taking over, Carter."

  "Yeah, yeah, no problem," Carter added. "Um, Dr. Weaver, I was just
wondering..."

  "John," Kerry interrupted, looking up at him. "It's been a long
day."

  "Right," Carter added, watching her leave. He tapped his fingers
against the counter for a couple of seconds, trying to find Mark with
his eyes. Two other pair of eyes found him instead.

  He heard someone clear her throat, but everyone seemed to be
coughing or complaining, so he decided to ignore it.

  "John?"

  Carter turned around and jumped back, almost slipping on the floor.
"Georgia," he exclaimed but then cleared his throat, trying to appear
nonchalant and manly. "What, uh, what are you doing here?"

  Georgia smiled and leaned against the window of the front desk. "I
came to ask you something."

  Carter looked around and went over to the other side to meet her,
walking away with her towards the lounge. "Something wrong?"

  "No, no," Georgia smiled and fidgeted with her fingers a little.
"Um, my sister is crashing at my place, and she's studying for the
bar. I already got an ultimatum about being quiet and staying out of
her way. Sooo," she hesitated, looking at his wide open brown eyes.
She looked around to make sure no one was watching and continued. "Do
you... wanna have some dinner? Or something?"

  Carter nodded, with a smile. "Or something?"

  Georgia panicked a little, "I mean no. Um, just like, something
something. Not sooomething," she added a little seductively at the
end.

  Carter chuckled, looking at his shoes. He couldn't possibly think of
a reason as to why it was still hard for the both of them to ask the
other on a date. It had been so simple at first. It didn't take him
five seconds to make up his mind and ask her out when she first came
into the ER. But now, every time they saw each other, it was as if
they were strangers. That scared him. Not because it could mean the
relationship was doomed. On the contrary, it scared him because he was
beginning to care about her, and the more he kept thinking about her,
the more scared he got. The more serious they got, the closer he came
to having to tell her about his past. And it wasn't his childhood that
bothered him, but what came long after that.

  He looked at his watch, and up at her eyes, which were expecting his
answer. He smiled again. "What do you have in mind?"

  "I don't know," Georgia said. "Italian?"

  "Italian it is," Carter said and watched her let out a little breath
of relief.

  "Great," she added. "So, um, you're busy here and I have to get back
to work, I'm supposed to be there already."

  Carter started to walk her out. "Am I getting you in trouble?" he
teased.

  "No, but it seemed like the one in trouble is you," Georgia added,
pointing at Kerry, who was staring at them with her arms crossed in
front of her.

  Carter opened his eyes wide and nodded quickly at his boss. He
watched as Kerry pointed at all the patients in chairs and walked away
less than pleased. Carter turned to Georgia. "I have to go."

  "Sure," Georgia added. "Um..."

  "I can... meet you there?" he asked and shook his head quickly.
"I'll, I'll just call you."

  "Ok," Georgia nodded. "See you later."

  "Yeah, see you," Carter added, and watched leave until she turned
the corner of the street. He smiled to himself, running his hand
through his hair and walked back towards the front desk, where the
phones were ringing like there was no end.

  "Sooo," Dave teased.

  "So?" Carter asked.

  "So, who was the chick?" Dave asked, leaning against the counter.

  Carter shook his head slightly, clicking on his pen with his thumb.
"That woman happens to be Georgia."
 
  Dave opened his eyes wide. "What? You're still with her?"

  Carter looked up, "We've only had three dates, Dave." He grabbed a
couple of charts and walked away, but Dave followed.

  "Three dates? By the second I'm already thinking about how I'm going
to let 'em go," Dave added.

  "Well, see, that's the difference between you and me, Dave. You're a
pig, and I'm not," Carter smiled.

  "Ha, ha, ha," Dave laughed sarcastically. "I'm gonna let that one
pass because I'm in a good mood today."

  Carter looked at his watch again, and around. "Dave? What are you
doing after work?"

  Dave smiled, "I thought you had a girlfriend already, John," he
whispered in his ear.

  Carter pushed Dave away and shook his head. "Forget it."

  Dave stopped walking and raised his arms slightly, "Come on, man,
I'm just kidding."

  Carter stopped walking as well, and looked back at Dave. "Wanna help
me with a little project?"

  Dave crossed his arms. "What kind of project?"

  Carter looked at the ceiling with a big sigh. "Forgive me, Lord, for
what I am about to do." He walked over to Dave, putting his arm around
him.
 
  "Do what?" Dave asked.

~*~

  Dave let out a sigh as both him and Carter stared at the number 1214
on Luka's door. He turned to Carter before his friend decided to knock
on the door. "Why are we here? Or more importantly, why am I here?"

  Carter tried to whisper, "Because, I don't know what's gonna happen
in there. You didn't see him on the lounge, he almost killed me."

  "So basically I'm here to keep the big guy down," Dave said.

  "In a nutshell, I am the brains, and you are the brawn," Carter
said.

  Dave tipped his head to the side a little. "Come on, Carter. I'm
insensitive, rude, and apathetic, why would you want me to be here if
you want to talk to Luka?"

  "Apathetic? Nice," Carter said.

  Dave just stared at Carter, waiting for an answer.

  Carter looked at Dave and the door, Dave and the door, Dave and the
door. "I already told you why I wanted you to come."

  Dave smiled, "You're scared of Luka."

  "No, Dave, I was hoping you'd be able to go deeper, but who am I
kidding?" He turned to Dave completely. "I brought you because I think
he needs to know we're here for him, that we care. He doesn't have
many friends and things with Abby are not going well. So please try to
be civil and friendly."

  Dave frowned. "I don't like playing cupid, Carter," he warned his
friend as he put his hands inside the pockets of his jacket.

  "We're not playing cupid, Dave. We're just making sure he's okay,"
Carter said.

  "Whatever," Dave added nonchalantly and looked around. "Just knock
on the door already cause I don't want anyone to see me going into a
hotel room with a guy."

  Carter rolled his eyes, knocking on the door just once.

  "I mean, you're a handsome man, Carter. I just don't swing that
way," Dave continued.

  Carter shook his head, "You know, I'm having second thoughts about
this."

  Dave then began to bop along to an imaginary music, looking around
the hallway as they waited. "Do you think he'll let me take some
towels home?" he asked all of a sudden, being shot with a deadly stare
from Carter. "What? Mine are worn out."

  Carter stared at Dave plainly, and then turned around to leave.

  "Come on, man," Dave stopped him. "I was just kidding. I can be
serious and friendly, just watch."

  Carter let out a sigh, "Dave, this is serious. If you only wanna
joke around, you can just leave."

  Dave smiled playfully. "Well, I don't really give much of a damn,
but Luka's a decent man," he said. "Mostly I just wanna hear the
gossip."

  Carter decided to ignore Dave, and knocked again, looking down at
the floor.

  "Who is it?" a muffled voice came from the inside.

  Carter looked at Dave with a semi alarmed look. He knew Luka would
not open the door if he knew they were there. But above all of that,
Carter was surprised Luka was in his room. He was sure the man would
be in Canada at the moment. He suddenly felt an elbow being jammed
into his ribs and it made him jump forward, knocking his nose against
the door.

  "Ow," he complained as he grabbed his nose.

  "Who?" Luka asked again.

  "Uh," Carter added. "Um, it's me, Carter." He looked at Dave and
raised his eyebrows, waiting for Luka to ask him to scram. He waited,
and waited some more, and Dave kept humming that tune in his head.

  "Of course he's not gonna open the door, he already heard us talking
out here," Dave complained.

  Carter was about to retaliate, but suddenly the door opened, and out
came Luka, looking less than pleased to see him, even less when he
realized Dave was there.

  "Hey man," Dave said as if nothing had happened.

  Luka looked from Dave, to Carter, waiting for an explanation.

  "Um, we just wanted to say hi," Carter explained.

  Luka nodded. "Ok," he said and walked back in, pushing the door
closed.

  "Wait, wait," Carter reacted, preventing the door from closing. "Can
we come in?"

  Luka turned and looked at him, his face completely monotonous. "I
thought you just wanted to say hi."

  "I lied?" Carter replied, looking at Dave, and then at Luka again.
"Can we come in?"

  Luka didn't seem to think about that for long, and just left the
door the way it was and walked into his room.

  Carter looked at Dave, and Dave at Carter. Carter tried to push Dave
into walking in first, and Dave Carter, and the tug of war continued
until Dave pushed Carter in all the way.

  John cleared his throat nervously and looked around the partially
lit room. Luka was sitting on a chair by the desk, and Dave was
already sitting on the bed. So Carter chose a small couch by the wall
and tapped his fingers together, looking around nervously.

  Luka let out a sigh and sat back. "You don't need to come in here to
cheer me up."

  Carter stared at his friend. It had only been hours since the
incident, and he knew Luka was a solitary man, but he did not like
what he saw. Luka was quiet, and his shoulders were hunched. Carter
had felt sorry for Luka more than once. He never did find out what was
happening in the man's personal life until they became friends. But
Luka was one of those people who had their web of emotions right in
their faces. He could not hide his happiness, anger, or melancholy
from anyone. The way his eyes were darker when something was wrong,
and so bright when everything was ok. Even if Luka wanted to, he could
not fool anyone. Now that they had become good friends, Carter was
learning to read the older doctor's face and body language. Surely
this wasn't not Luka's worst, but it wasn't his best either.

  "We're not trying to do that, we were just worried," Carter added.

  "We?" Luka asked, looking at Dave.

  Dave looked at Carter and then at Luka. "Of course, we. Do you think
I'd be here if I didn't care?"

  Carter nodded. He had to admit, Dave was a good actor, unless he
wasn't acting at all, which was a slim chance. He looked at Luka.
"Have you talked to Abby?"

  Luka face expression changed completely when he heard her name, as
if it was sour and bitter. He only looked down and shook his head no,
rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

  "What happened?" Dave asked.

  Luka shook his head again, looking to the side this time. He didn't
feel much comfortable with Dave there, but a big wave of anger was
still tugging at his heart and he desperately needed to get rid of it.
He let out a sigh and concentrated on the leg of his table. "Abby had
a meeting to go back to work, and Weaver called me in to ask me if I
thought Abby was ready, and I said no," he said simply. Such a short
story, and yet so complicated.

  "Shit," Dave added.

  "And Abby wasn't happy about that," Carter assumed.

  "No," Luka said. "I tried to talk to her but she was too angry," he
added, pointing at the red mark on his cheek.

  Dave winced at the sight, and then shook his head. "Why would they
allow her to go back to work so fast? She's a drunk."

  Luka flinched slightly at the word, and looked at Dave with a
serious expression on his face.

  "I mean," Dave added, trying to fix it. "Shouldn't she wait a
while?"

  "Yeah, she has to start going to meetings first but I guess Weaver
needed a nurse," Carter said, trying to find the logic behind it. He
looked at Luka, and after hearing the story, he wasn't sure how he was
going to react when he saw Abby. Carter had been aware that Abby had
been at the hospital, and that she had stormed out of the lounge. His
best guess had been that Kerry had told her she couldn't go back to
work, and that Luka ran after her to make her feel better, and later
went to Weaver about it. There were many pieces of that puzzle that
didn't come into place, but it was the most logical explanation. There
were tens of different stories running around the hospital, none more
ridiculous than the other, and no one seemed to know what had actually
happened.

  "Weaver," Carter suddenly heard Dave complain. He looked up at Luka.
"Did she call you?"

  "Who?" Luka asked, not moving.

  "Weaver," Carter said.

  Luka shook his head slightly.

  "She can't fire him, it's not his fault," Dave complained.

  Carter pressed his lips together, still looking at Luka. "What are
you gonna do?"

  Luka shrugged his shoulders. The thought of leaving the city had
crossed his mind, but it had only been an impulse to the situation,
like wishing schools would disappear or running away from home when
you're a child. He didn't really thought he could leave, or would want
to leave, but he had thought of maybe going to another hospital. That,
he did not know if it was another impulse or an actual plan. He had
not talked to Abby and knew she was too angry to talk to him at the
moment. He was also too angry to hear her voice. But he had hoped she
would come to her senses, had prayed for it to happen. It wasn't about
their relationship anymore, but her health. The thought of her running
to a bar after she slapped him made him nauseous. That was his only
preoccupation at the moment.

  His demeanor suddenly changed again and he became angry. "I'm tired
of being a punching bag."

  Carter only nodded, looking down at his shoes. He tried to remember
when he came out of rehab, who he had relied on. Of course, Abby
understood his situation, but he wondered if she ever felt like his
punching bag. He wondered if sometimes she got tired of him
complaining. Being Chase's cousin, he could understand how Luka felt.
Promises, promises, but nothing ever changes. Carter gave up on Chase
because he felt like a punching bag, and it didn’t have the
happiest of endings. He could see both Luka's and Abby's point,
understanding both, and hopefully being able to help both.

  "Did you talk to her?" Luka asked Carter, setting him free from his
thoughts.

  "Abby?" Carter asked and saw Luka nod. "No, not yet." He looked at
Dave, who was looking towards the bathroom and then looked down,
trying to recall the night before. Abby looked good. She didn't look
great, but she certainly did not look like she would go on a rampage
at any second, like she did earlier. He knew she was pretending a
little, but he didn't know the situation was that bad.

  He frowned and looked at Luka. "I don't get it, she said she was
fine."

  Dave looked at Luka and chuckled. "Let me teach you something about
little boys and little girls, Carter. We use different languages. When
guys say fine, it means fine." He turned to Luka, "What does it mean
when women say they're fine, Luka?"

  "I am not fine, and I'm going to make you pay for it," Luka said,
tapping on the sides of the chair with his fingers.

  "See?" Dave said.

  "That's crazy," Carter shook his head again.

  "And women, my dear friend, are crazy," Dave said matter of factly
and rested his hands against the bed to lean back.

  Carter looked at Luka, who nodded approvingly. He sat back, staring
at Luka. He thought this would be much easier. Was it the presence of
Dave? Probably not. The problem was that he thought he would talk to
Luka and make him feel better. But instead, he had just been sitting
there and asking questions. Every second he tried to dig deeper into
his mind to see if he could find something, anything, that could make
his friend smile. If he could talk to him on the phone, he could maybe
achieve that. But watching Luka's face as he talked, it was too hard.

  "But you know what?" Dave started, and the other two men looked at
him. "Don't worry about it. Because Abby just came back from rehab and
she has all this shit to deal with. So it's gonna take her a while to
get out of that PMS crap she's going through, but it'll be ok. You'll
see. I know these things."

  Both Luka and Carter stared at Dave for a while, and then Luka
smiled. "Thank you, Dave."

  "It's like when you're a kid, and your parents do all these things
to make you crazy, and go to your room and all that crap. But then
when you grow up you realize that they only did it because it was the
best thing for you. And you did the best thing for Abby. And she'll
realize that and come back," Dave added.

  "Wow," Carter said with a couple of chuckles.

  Luka stood up, "That was very nice, thank you."

  "Yeah, we should go," Carter said, standing up as well.

  Dave approached Luka and whispered, "Listen, man, you don't think
you can hook me up with some towels..."

  "Dave, let's go," Carter complained.

  "Alright!" Dave yelled. He offered his hand to Luka. "Good luck,
man."

 "Thank you, Dave," Luka replied, not knowing the words to say when
someone like Dave says something so deep.

  "And Weaver? Don't worry about that either, we can sue her ass if
she fires you," Dave added, and opened the door to walk out.

  Carter shook Luka's hand as well. "Take care."

  "Are you going to see Abby?" Luka added.

  Carter glanced at his watch. "Yeah." He watched as Luka just nodded
and said. "Want me to tell her something?"

  Luka just shook his head. "No. Just make sure she's ok."

  "I'll do that," Carter added. A sudden strange feeling crept over
him when he realized he was leaving Luka alone. He had not been of
much help, and somehow he wanted to keep an eye on him all the time.
But he also wanted to keep an eye on Abby all the time, and he knew
that was impossible. It was suddenly like a divorce battle. A couple
of months before and he would have chosen Abby in a second. But now,
Luka was his friend too, and he wasn't sure anymore. So who would get
visitation rights and who would get custody of Carter?

  He took a little breath and whispered. "Are you gonna be ok?"

  "Yeah," Luka smiled, nodding his head.

  "I can come back later if you want, we can shoot some pool," Carter
offered, very aware of his date.

  Luka just shook his head slightly. "That's ok. Thank you for
coming."

  "Sure," Carter added. "I'll call you."

  "Alright," Luka added and saw him out.

  Carter felt the door close behind him and looked at Dave, who was
trying to see if the frame on the wall was bolted or just hanging. He
looked at Carter and smiled. "That wasn't so bad."

  "No, thanks for stealing my thunder," Carter added, walking away.

  "What are you talking about?" Dave followed. "We came to cheer him
up, we cheered him up. It was team work."

  Carter just shook his head, muttering to himself. "Brains and
brawn."

~*~

  "One down, one to go," Carter whispered to himself as his stomach
turned to knots. He took a deep breath as he stood in front of Abby's
door alone. When he went to see Luka, he was scared the man might
physically harm him. He was scared now also, but scared of what he
might find, scared that something might have happened. He wanted to
give Abby some credit and believe she wouldn't go to a bar and get
drunk after all the hard work she had done. But after seeing her the
night before, acting as if nothing had happened... he just wasn't sure
anymore. 'Some kind of friend,' he thought. But he knew Luka was
right.

  He cleared his throat and looked at his watch; he'd have to pick up
Georgia in a couple of hours. So he kicked the fear away and knocked
on her door a couple of times. And then suddenly, he feared for his
physical safety also. No answer.

  "Abby?" he called out as friendly as he could, trying to let her
know he wasn't the enemy.

  Still no answer. "Abby?" he called again, knocking on her door.

  He let out a sigh, looking at the top of the door and then at the
knob. He could hear movement inside, so he knew she was there. "Abby,
open up, it's Carter," he added louder.

  For a moment he dwelled on the idea of leaving, but then, the door
unlocked, remaining closed. He looked at the knob for a moment,
waiting for her to open the door, but when that didn't happen, he
realized it was his job to do so. It reminded him of scary movies he
saw as a child, when the victim opens the door slowly to peek his head
into a dark room, and from the inside, the monster would shred him to
pieces. He turned the knob all the way first, and then pushed the door
slowly, peeking his head in. No monster.

  "Abby?" he asked again.

  "What do you want?"

  Carter walked in and closed the door behind him. He looked at the
apartment, which looked like the remaining of a nuclear testing in a
Pacific island. She was walking from one side to the other, trying to
clean up after her outburst of rage.

  "Are you ok?" Carter asked, standing still.

  "Never been better," Abby said sarcastically as she swept some
broken glass.

  "I can see that," Carter added. He smiled, looking down, and then
looked up at her again, putting his bag down. "Luka told me what
happened."

  Abby stopped what she was doing, and looked at him. She was about to
let the anger take over, but instead, let the sarcasm sit behind the
wheel. "Oh yeah, I forgot you two are cell mates now."

  He smiled, and watch her go back to her cleaning. "Anyway," he added
and took a step forward. "I'm sorry you can't go back to work yet."

  Abby stopped again, looking at him. "What?"

  "Yeah," he added, and took another step forward. "I mean, when I
came back I wanted to go back to work right away, you know, to keep my
mind busy."

  Abby shook her head, walking to the kitchen. "Carter, I'm really not
in the mood to hear one of your inspirational stories."

  Carter nodded his head, watching her walk all around the apartment.
"Do you wanna sit down for a moment?"

  Abby ignored him, and kept cleaning.

  "Ok, do you mind if I sit down?" Again no answer. He sat down on the
couch and watched as she went about her cleaning. There was broken
glass right in front of the television, and the curtains were gone.
The small pillows which belonged to the couch were all on the floor
and he didn't dare to see what the bedroom looked like. He watched her
as she moved. No doubt that the anger was still there, because it was
literally manipulating the features of her face. He made sure his bag
was sitting next to him, and decided to wait until she took the first
step.

  So he waited, and waited some more. She kept picking up things and
lighting cigarettes as she walked quickly from one room to the other.
He shot a discreet glance at his watch; he didn't have much time. He
wondered where the phone was so he could call Georgia and tell her he
could not meet her. He took a deep breath, and all of a sudden felt
Abby standing next to him. He looked up at her, her face angered but
much less than before.

  "Why did you come?" she asked, her hands resting on her hips.

  Carter leaned his head back a little, letting her know she knew the
answer to that question.

  Abby crossed her arms in front of her, as if his answer had made her
even more angry. The apartment was clean already, so she took the
remote control from the small table and set it on top of the
television. "Did Luka ask you to come?" she asked all of a sudden.

  "No, no, I haven't seen him," Carter lied.

  "He told Weaver I wasn't ready to come back to work," she said
angrily, trying to explain her reaction.

  Carter nodded. "And you think you are?"

  Abby shook her head quickly, from side to side. "I went to rehab,
did the program. I didn't kill anyone. I think if there's someone who
can tell if I'm ready to work or not, that's me."

  Carter almost had to clean his face at the venom she spit. He sat
back, trying to play psychological games. "You wanna know what I
think?"

  "No," Abby answered before he was able to finish the question.

  "Come on, sit down," he added, offering the chair in front of her.

  Abby shook her head again, looking at the ceiling, and finally
decided to sit down, maybe that would make him shut up. She kept her
arms crossed, looking at the leg of the table in front of her.

  "Look," Carter started, leaning forward. "I know you have done this
before, I know you can probably teach a course on it. But I know what
you're going through, Abby. Just because it happens more than once it
doesn't mean it's less and less painful with time."

  "Carter, I'm not a little girl," Abby added.

  "I know, I'm sorry." He took a deep breath and looked around. "If
Luka said you weren't ready to go back to work is probably because he
saw something that made him think so."

  "Can we please not talk about Luka?" Abby added.

  Carter leaned back, he was running out of ideas. "Ok, fine. No
rehab, no Luka." He kept staring at her staring at the leg of the
table. "But I do know why you wanna go back to work."

  "Thanks, Carter. You're a genius," Abby said and started to stand
up.

  "Sit down, I'm not done yet," Carter added sternly, this being his
time to be angry.

  He watched as she sat back down on the chair and he suddenly felt
like a father. "You're right, Abby. You're not a little girl, but
you're acting like a teenager."

  "No, Carter. I'm acting like someone who would like to continue
living her life," Abby said loudly, leaning forward.

  "Abby, you're rushing into this and you know it. Why do you have to
be so stubborn?" Carter raised his voice, feeling what was probably
Luka's exasperation.

  Abby stood up and started to pace. "Because I'm sick of this! I'm
sick of Luka asking if I'm ok. I'm sick of you calling every day to
check up on me. I'm sick of Weaver and her damn rules. I'm sick of
people looking at me like I'm a fucking mental patient!"

  "And you think ignoring it is going to make that go away?" Carter
yelled at her, standing up as well.

  "I am not ignoring it, Carter!" Abby yelled back. "I'm fine. I don't
need your help, or Luka's or Kerry's, or no one else's!"

  Carter sat back, nodding. "So you have it under control."

  "Yes!" Abby yelled again.

  "Ok," Carter said simply. Digging into his bag, he took out a brand
new bottle of Vodka and set it on the coffee table with a bang.

  Abby stopped pacing, her arms crossed in front of her, and stared at
the bottle. As if by magic, her toes went cold, and her fingers began
to shake. She closed her fists hard, knowing Carter's eyes were on
her.

  "You don't mind, do you?" Carter said as he opened the bottle,
taking out a plastic cup.

  "What are you doing," Abby asked almost inaudibly, her voice
shaking.

  "I mean since you have everything under control," Carter said as he
poured some of the drink into the cup. "I figured you don't mind me
having a drink."

  Abby's mind went blank, trying to move, trying to talk, trying to
breathe. Her head began to pound, and her heart to beat faster. She
closed her eyes, and yet somehow the vision of the bottle was clear in
her head. At that moment all she wanted was to reach for it and drink
until all of it until it was gone. Yet at the same time the same force
was holding her back. Her body began to move forward, and then back,
then forward again. She opened her eyes, watching as Carter took a sip
of the drink.

  "Put it away," Abby said, her voice interrupted by shakes.

  "Why?" Carter asked, sitting back and relaxing. "Doesn't bother me
when I see drugs in the hospital."

  "Put it away," Abby said louder, her hands shaking even more.

  "You know, we have drunk patients in the ER, some of them even come
in with bottles and beer. But I guess that doesn't bother you, right?"
Carter said calmly.

  "Why are you doing this?" Abby asked weakly, her eyes still glued to
the bottle.

  "I'm not doing anything," Carter replied. "I've had a stressful day
and now I'm having a drink."

  Abby let out a short sarcastic laugh, her breathing shallow, then
turned serious. "Get out of here, Carter."

  "Why? Are you busy?" Carter asked.

  "I said get out!" Abby yelled, ripping her eyes away from the bottle
and looking at Carter menacingly.

  Carter put the cup back on the table. He looked up at Abby and
raised his eyebrows. "You don't looks so well." Before he could
finish, Abby reached for the bottle quickly. He tried to stop her, but
could only watch as her whole body leaned forward and she threw the
bottle towards the kitchen, and it smashed against the wall of the
archway.

  With a rage he had never seen in her before, she turned around,
grabbing a cushion and throwing it towards the same area where the
clear liquid spilled on the floor.

  "Hey!" Carter tried to stop her by grabbing her arms, but she pulled
away from him, grabbing other cushions and throwing them towards the
kitchen, her face wet with tears of anger. When she tried to reach for
the coffee table, Carter wrapped his arms around her and with all his
force, pinned her against the floor.

  "Abby, calm down!" he yelled at her, but her legs kept kicking and
her muscles contracting. "Abby!" he yelled again, wrapping his arms
around her with even more strength.

  Then all of a sudden, Abby stopped moving. From behind, he tried to
look at her face, but only heard as she began to sob, her lips
touching the floor of the living room.

  Her whole body started to shake and Carter sat down, bringing her up
for an embrace. She curled up into a ball on his arms, and Carter
kissed her forehead, stroking her head. "Shh, it's ok."

  She cried forever, and when forever was over, she kept crying.
Carter just held her, rocking her back and forth. He knew he had done
something cruel, and it was hard for him to keep his own tears back.
It felt like shooting your own dog because he had rabies. But he knew
someone had to snap her out of that denial. He knew someone had to let
her know she wasn't fine, that because she had done this before, it
didn't mean that she was an expert.

  He had lived a year after his recovery in denial also. He had taken
it for granted and it almost cost him his job and his life. Funny to
think it was Abby who used to tell him to take it slow, and here she
was, making the same mistake he had made.

  She tried to control her sobs as the smell of Carter's new shirt
tickled on her nose. "You saw Luka?"

  "Yeah," Carter said.

  Abby sniffed and sobbed. "I hit him."

  "I know," Carter said.

  "I hit him in the face," she cried.

  "I know," Carter repeated.

  "Is he ok?" she asked.

  Carter smiled, "He'll live." He kissed her forehead and cradled her
for a couple of minutes until she calmed down. "Abby?" he added in the
middle of the silence.

  "Yeah?" she answered.

  "You're not ready to go back to work," he said and heard her
chuckle, and he chuckled as well.

~*~

  Georgia stared at her cheesecake for a moment and then looked up,
finding Carter staring at her. She chuckled and ate a piece of her
dessert. "So are they ok?"

  With a smile plastered on his face, Carter asked, "Who?"

  "Your friends," Georgia added and took a sip of water. "You.. said
you were..."

  "Oh yeah," Carter interrupted. "Yeah, they're fine, it just. Um,
well, one of my friends recently came back from rehab, so..."

  "Oh," Georgia said, nodding.

  Carter looked up and bit his lower lip. "Why? Is that ok?"
 
  Georgia raised her eyebrows. "No, I mean, yeah, good for him...
her..."

  "Her." Carter eased a little and sat back. "Well, her and her
boyfriend are having problems together and at work, it's a long
story."

  Georgia nodded. "Well I hope everything turns out ok."

  Carter smiled, and at the same time the waiter came by with the
check. He picked up the bill and looked up, "Ready to go?"

  "Yeah," Georgia said as she picked up her purse and walked after
him.

  The night was a little chilly but certainly nice. Carter walked with
his hands in his pockets, not quite sure what to do with them. He made
sure he'd ask a question about photography so she would keep talking
while in his mind he kept thinking about the events of the day, mixed
with questions about what to do when he reached Georgia's door. A
little bug kept biting the back of his neck, making him feel uneasy
about leaving Abby alone. When he closed to door to her apartment, she
was sleeping on her bed, and he hoped she would do so until morning
came.

  "Well, this is me," Georgia said, looking up her apartment building.

  Carter looked up also and nodded, feeling the sudden change in the
air. "It's nice."

  "Yeah," Georgia nodded as well. "I'd... I'd ask you up, b-but..."

  "That's ok," Carter interrupted her. He looked down at her, green
eyes staring up at him like two emeralds suddenly discovered in the
depths of the earth. A sudden chill made the trees hum as they rocked
back and forth, and without knowing why, he rubbed his hands against
her arms to prevent her from the cold. If she was experiencing
anything like him, then there was no need for it because he was
completely oblivious about temperature changes... or a nuclear
holocaust for that matter.

  And then as natural as it is to grow up, live and die, he bent down
and kissed her. Her lips were cold, and now that he could feel his
own, they were too. But as he gently stroked her cheek with his thumb,
the temperature seemed to rise. And it wasn't the kiss itself, but the
fact that she was kissing him back.

  And as quickly as it came, it was over. He pulled back, not breaking
eye contact and watched her face lit when she smiled. At that moment
he wanted to hold her even closer. Just hold her in the middle of a
cold night as the trees hummed and her eyes looked like emeralds and
her lips were cold. But he knew they would have to say good bye.

  "Good night," she whispered at him with a sweet smile.

  Carter was well aware that he should have said good night back, or
good bye, or I'll call you. But the words he was fighting to blurt out
were simply not coming.

  He watched her go up the stairs, looking back and shooting a flirty
look at him. He wasn't sure where the music was coming from, but
suddenly there were trumpets, pianos, drums and Frank Sinatra.

  As he walked away, he danced to the music on his head. "If this is
just the beginning, my life is gonna to be... beeeeautiful!" He
whistled along, very well aware that the few people on the streets
were shooting glances at him. He simply bowed his head to a lady and
continued on his musical path.

  If this was cloud nine, then people were selling it short. It felt
more like could 90. A cloud so high and exhilarating that you are no
longer in the atmosphere, but somewhere where the air is sweeter, and
breathing is not even necessary. It's not love. It's the realization
that love exists, and it's not just something you read in books, see
on movies, or hear from someone who heard from someone, who heard from
someone that love was real.

  Could John Carter be fortunate enough to experience it full bloom
this time? Could this wild rhythm of booms and poundings inside his
heart mean something significant? Something good? Something? The
answer, as real as was the music only he was hearing, came painfully
in the image of Luka. The music stopped with the crack of the record.
He looked back at Georgia's apartment building. Love, as well as a
roller coaster, the stock market, life, comes with its ups and downs.
But how low were the downs? Could they completely destroy him?

  As he walked in the silence of the night the pieces of the puzzle
all danced in front of him. There was Luka, in love. How lucky can one
guy be? Love is something that should wipe you off your feet and send
you wam, bam, straight to the moon. Could it also pound you to the
ground until you reach hell? Because Luka looked like one of Satan's
hostages. As much as a little voice inside of him reminded that Luka
and Abby were a special case, maybe a little too special, a louder
voice kept repeating, "Only fools give in to love."

  By the time he reached his apartment, his mind was ready to call it
quits. All of this after a little kiss, a small yet glorious kiss that
had made him go up and down and up and down again. As he dropped his
body into the bed, he turned off his lamp and above all the sirens
blaring inside his head and the warning signs hurting his ocular
membranes, he smiled to himself. He thought of Luka and Abby and the
hell they were going through. As much as John wanted to give love the
green light, he did not want to let it stomp on him. His whole life,
all around him he witnessed nothing but failed marriages, and broken
hearts. Is there a good side to love? Is there happiness? He pushed
Luka and Abby out of hid mind and tried to hold on to the idea that
everything would be ok. It had to. Then again, Georgia didn't know
about his addiction. How would she react? And why was it bothering him
so much? Was he falling for her? Would she break his heart? As he
turned to the side, he closed his eyes, trying to free his mind from
these tormenting thoughts.

  Ain't love a kick in the head?


To be continued...