Title: Time Will Tell
Author: Aimee
Disclaimer: As much as it pains me, I really have no claim of ownership whatsoever when it comes to Carter and Abby…they belong to Warner Brothers, NBC, Michael Crichton, et al. But if I can't own them, I like to think they belong solely to Jack Orman…he'll take good of them in my absence…
Spoilers: Abso-posi-tivi-lutely. For *everything*. This is based on spoilers about the Season 9 finale…
Notes: Carter's POV, for this chapter at least. Basically, if you've seen all of Season 9 so far and you're spoiled for the finale, you should be able to figure out what's going on here. I'm planning on turning this into a small chapter fic, so please please please let me know what you think - encouragement makes the new stuff appear faster J Therefore, please R/R…
Merci beaucoup to Kate, my lovely and wonderful Beta. And to Julie and Misty for inspiring me to write this by overwhelming me with fuzzy scenarios about the season's end. Hehe. You guys rock my socks off. Oh, yeah, and to Dave Matthews for writing the song "Two Step" so that I could listen to on repeat over and over whilst I wrote this first chapter…
So, with no further ado…
"Time Will Tell"
___________________________________________________
Ten minutes left.
In ten minutes, I'm leaving her. And she knows it. She's sitting on the edge of our bed, one leg pulled beneath her, watching me as I pack. I can feel her eyes upon me and it's almost as though I can literally hear her thinking too hard, trying desperately to find the words that will convince me to stay.
She's afraid. To be completely honest, so am I. When I let myself concentrate on what I'm about to do, my stomach gets tied in knots. I'm not sure I can actually do this.
But I have to. It's important to me, and she knows it. She understands why I'm leaving, but that doesn't calm her fears. Or mine.
I told her several days ago that it would be fine. I'll only be gone two weeks, and I'll be back in that bed with her before she's even realized I was gone. And I've repeated that promise to her hundreds of times since then. Problem is, I've never been good at lying - especially not to her. She saw right through me, saw the truth in my eyes. She knows I'm just as scared as she is. No matter how important this is to me, it doesn't change the fact that I'm willfully launching myself into a world of danger and death.
What if I'm wrong? What if, in reality, I never make it back to her? Anything can happen in a war-torn country such as Congo. Looking over at her on our bed again, I suddenly wonder how I talked myself into this. How could I risk losing forever what I waited so long to experience? Abby. My Abby.
Damn my philanthropic nature.
"How will I know?" Her words, almost a whisper, slice through the silence and bring me out of my thoughts.
I don't want to speak. I just want to stare at her - at the beauty that I'm blessed to call my own. But her eyes are begging for a response. She needs to talk. She needs to be comforted while she still has me here. "Know what?," I venture slowly, not sure of where this is going. It's one of the things I desperately love and yet utterly hate about her - she's amazingly vague.
"How will I know that you're safe?" Ah, I see now. "Fourteen days…" she continues with slight hesitation, "…I don't know if I can stand it, walking around everyday wondering where you are and if you're alright."
I give her my trademark smirk - at least that's what she calls it. "Don't worry…" But she gives me her trademark eyebrow raise and eye roll, and I realize that that approach won't work this time. So I go to her. Slowly, I walk to the bed where she sits and take her hand, pulling her up so that she's standing in front of me. I take her other hand so that we're connected in a complete circuit, and I'm overwhelmed with emotion as I look deep into her eyes. This woman is everything to me. And I'm killing her. I could be killing myself, literally, with the path that I've chosen to walk down next. But I have to be brave - for her.
"I'll find a way," I whisper, still staring into her eyes. She smiles, but it's a smile that I know is still disbelieving. "C'mon, I know it's a rural area but I'm sure they have some way in which they communicate with the outside world. I'll make it happen. I promise."
She just bites her lip and nods. I know there's nothing I can say to make it better. Unless I say I'm not leaving. But I am.
Five minutes left.
I lean in and kiss her on the forehead, pausing there to smell her soft blonde hair. And I can tell she's smelling my shirt. We're making a memory, forever implanting the scent of one another into our minds. With great hesitation, I pull back and smile at her. "Can you pour me some coffee for the road?" She smiles back, so radiant, and kisses me quickly before walking toward the kitchen. I throw a few last minute objects into my bags, then move to my dresser drawer and remove what I've been hiding. I place it on the bedside table and sigh. A little going away present. If things go horribly wrong, it'll be something to remember me by. But I don't want to think like that right now.
I quickly grab my bags and head into the living room, desperate to spend these last few minutes as close to her as possible. I set my bags by the door and turn to find her watching me again, traveling coffee mug in hand. She comes to me eagerly, placing the mug on the table by the door, and positions her head in it's usual home underneath my chin. I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer, and she follows by letting her arms encircle my waist.
"I wish I could go with you" she murmurs suddenly.
I sigh. "Abby…" We've had this talk already. Numerous times.
"I mean, to the airport." Oh. Right. "This way makes us have to separate 4 hours before we would if I just went with you."
I kiss the top of her head. Two minutes left. Can I actually do this?
"You have to work," I say, trying to let her know that I understand. And I do.
She sighs heavily and pulls away to look at me, her arms still around my waist. "I can't believe Romano wouldn't let me have the day off. I know we're short of nurses but…"
I've put my finger to her lips, quieting her. "I don't want to talk about Romano. You have to work. We can't change that. Let's make the most of right now."
As if on cue, the sound of a car horn is heard through the open window. Perfect timing. Really.
She has her eyes closed now, dreading this moment. "Taxi's here," she whispers. I'm leaving the Jeep with her. It's not like it makes sense to let it sit at the airport for two weeks. But it's also for her comfort. I know driving around in my car everyday will make her feel closer to me. And I'll be smiling in Africa when I picture her behind the wheel, blaring The Pixies on my stereo. It works both ways.
Time's up. My last chance to bail out of this mission. But I know I won't. So I pull her close to me again, burying her head back into my chest, and squeeze my arms around her until I fear I might break her. But she's holding me just as tight. I pull away slightly and immediately move to kiss her. She doesn't hesitate to follow my lead. And as I vanish into her kiss, I feel the tears that are slowly and desperately falling from her eyes.
If I'm going to leave, I have to do it now. I back away and grab my bags, glancing up to see her staring at her feet. She's never been very willing to let me see her cry. I have the door open now, one bag over my shoulder with the other two in one hand and the coffee mug in the other.
"Abby…" But she doesn't break the concentration that she's placed upon her bare feet. "Look at me…"
And she does. Biting her lip again in that way that makes me want to hold her forever.
The taxi makes itself known again, blaring that horn at yet another inconvenient moment.
I glance toward the window and then back at her. She knows this is it. I have to say goodbye. It's now or never.
"I love you. So much more than you'll ever know or believe. No matter what happens in the next two weeks, you can't ever forget that, okay? I love you."
She smiles through her now unrelenting tears and nods. "I love you, too. Please be careful. I mean it. I'll miss you too much." And I know she's talking about forever, not just the next two weeks. I'll be careful. I will. I'll miss her just as badly if I wake up in eternity without her. But we can't dwell on the danger of the situation right now. I want to leave her with a smile.
So I give her that trademark smirk she loves one more time, and wink at her. "I'll be right back." And suddenly I'm walking away from her. Let's hope it's not forever.
Author: Aimee
Disclaimer: As much as it pains me, I really have no claim of ownership whatsoever when it comes to Carter and Abby…they belong to Warner Brothers, NBC, Michael Crichton, et al. But if I can't own them, I like to think they belong solely to Jack Orman…he'll take good of them in my absence…
Spoilers: Abso-posi-tivi-lutely. For *everything*. This is based on spoilers about the Season 9 finale…
Notes: Carter's POV, for this chapter at least. Basically, if you've seen all of Season 9 so far and you're spoiled for the finale, you should be able to figure out what's going on here. I'm planning on turning this into a small chapter fic, so please please please let me know what you think - encouragement makes the new stuff appear faster J Therefore, please R/R…
Merci beaucoup to Kate, my lovely and wonderful Beta. And to Julie and Misty for inspiring me to write this by overwhelming me with fuzzy scenarios about the season's end. Hehe. You guys rock my socks off. Oh, yeah, and to Dave Matthews for writing the song "Two Step" so that I could listen to on repeat over and over whilst I wrote this first chapter…
So, with no further ado…
"Time Will Tell"
___________________________________________________
Ten minutes left.
In ten minutes, I'm leaving her. And she knows it. She's sitting on the edge of our bed, one leg pulled beneath her, watching me as I pack. I can feel her eyes upon me and it's almost as though I can literally hear her thinking too hard, trying desperately to find the words that will convince me to stay.
She's afraid. To be completely honest, so am I. When I let myself concentrate on what I'm about to do, my stomach gets tied in knots. I'm not sure I can actually do this.
But I have to. It's important to me, and she knows it. She understands why I'm leaving, but that doesn't calm her fears. Or mine.
I told her several days ago that it would be fine. I'll only be gone two weeks, and I'll be back in that bed with her before she's even realized I was gone. And I've repeated that promise to her hundreds of times since then. Problem is, I've never been good at lying - especially not to her. She saw right through me, saw the truth in my eyes. She knows I'm just as scared as she is. No matter how important this is to me, it doesn't change the fact that I'm willfully launching myself into a world of danger and death.
What if I'm wrong? What if, in reality, I never make it back to her? Anything can happen in a war-torn country such as Congo. Looking over at her on our bed again, I suddenly wonder how I talked myself into this. How could I risk losing forever what I waited so long to experience? Abby. My Abby.
Damn my philanthropic nature.
"How will I know?" Her words, almost a whisper, slice through the silence and bring me out of my thoughts.
I don't want to speak. I just want to stare at her - at the beauty that I'm blessed to call my own. But her eyes are begging for a response. She needs to talk. She needs to be comforted while she still has me here. "Know what?," I venture slowly, not sure of where this is going. It's one of the things I desperately love and yet utterly hate about her - she's amazingly vague.
"How will I know that you're safe?" Ah, I see now. "Fourteen days…" she continues with slight hesitation, "…I don't know if I can stand it, walking around everyday wondering where you are and if you're alright."
I give her my trademark smirk - at least that's what she calls it. "Don't worry…" But she gives me her trademark eyebrow raise and eye roll, and I realize that that approach won't work this time. So I go to her. Slowly, I walk to the bed where she sits and take her hand, pulling her up so that she's standing in front of me. I take her other hand so that we're connected in a complete circuit, and I'm overwhelmed with emotion as I look deep into her eyes. This woman is everything to me. And I'm killing her. I could be killing myself, literally, with the path that I've chosen to walk down next. But I have to be brave - for her.
"I'll find a way," I whisper, still staring into her eyes. She smiles, but it's a smile that I know is still disbelieving. "C'mon, I know it's a rural area but I'm sure they have some way in which they communicate with the outside world. I'll make it happen. I promise."
She just bites her lip and nods. I know there's nothing I can say to make it better. Unless I say I'm not leaving. But I am.
Five minutes left.
I lean in and kiss her on the forehead, pausing there to smell her soft blonde hair. And I can tell she's smelling my shirt. We're making a memory, forever implanting the scent of one another into our minds. With great hesitation, I pull back and smile at her. "Can you pour me some coffee for the road?" She smiles back, so radiant, and kisses me quickly before walking toward the kitchen. I throw a few last minute objects into my bags, then move to my dresser drawer and remove what I've been hiding. I place it on the bedside table and sigh. A little going away present. If things go horribly wrong, it'll be something to remember me by. But I don't want to think like that right now.
I quickly grab my bags and head into the living room, desperate to spend these last few minutes as close to her as possible. I set my bags by the door and turn to find her watching me again, traveling coffee mug in hand. She comes to me eagerly, placing the mug on the table by the door, and positions her head in it's usual home underneath my chin. I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer, and she follows by letting her arms encircle my waist.
"I wish I could go with you" she murmurs suddenly.
I sigh. "Abby…" We've had this talk already. Numerous times.
"I mean, to the airport." Oh. Right. "This way makes us have to separate 4 hours before we would if I just went with you."
I kiss the top of her head. Two minutes left. Can I actually do this?
"You have to work," I say, trying to let her know that I understand. And I do.
She sighs heavily and pulls away to look at me, her arms still around my waist. "I can't believe Romano wouldn't let me have the day off. I know we're short of nurses but…"
I've put my finger to her lips, quieting her. "I don't want to talk about Romano. You have to work. We can't change that. Let's make the most of right now."
As if on cue, the sound of a car horn is heard through the open window. Perfect timing. Really.
She has her eyes closed now, dreading this moment. "Taxi's here," she whispers. I'm leaving the Jeep with her. It's not like it makes sense to let it sit at the airport for two weeks. But it's also for her comfort. I know driving around in my car everyday will make her feel closer to me. And I'll be smiling in Africa when I picture her behind the wheel, blaring The Pixies on my stereo. It works both ways.
Time's up. My last chance to bail out of this mission. But I know I won't. So I pull her close to me again, burying her head back into my chest, and squeeze my arms around her until I fear I might break her. But she's holding me just as tight. I pull away slightly and immediately move to kiss her. She doesn't hesitate to follow my lead. And as I vanish into her kiss, I feel the tears that are slowly and desperately falling from her eyes.
If I'm going to leave, I have to do it now. I back away and grab my bags, glancing up to see her staring at her feet. She's never been very willing to let me see her cry. I have the door open now, one bag over my shoulder with the other two in one hand and the coffee mug in the other.
"Abby…" But she doesn't break the concentration that she's placed upon her bare feet. "Look at me…"
And she does. Biting her lip again in that way that makes me want to hold her forever.
The taxi makes itself known again, blaring that horn at yet another inconvenient moment.
I glance toward the window and then back at her. She knows this is it. I have to say goodbye. It's now or never.
"I love you. So much more than you'll ever know or believe. No matter what happens in the next two weeks, you can't ever forget that, okay? I love you."
She smiles through her now unrelenting tears and nods. "I love you, too. Please be careful. I mean it. I'll miss you too much." And I know she's talking about forever, not just the next two weeks. I'll be careful. I will. I'll miss her just as badly if I wake up in eternity without her. But we can't dwell on the danger of the situation right now. I want to leave her with a smile.
So I give her that trademark smirk she loves one more time, and wink at her. "I'll be right back." And suddenly I'm walking away from her. Let's hope it's not forever.