AN: Hey guys! It's been awhile since I've written anything, so bear with me. This is my first ER fic. I love Carbys too much not to attempt one! It's slightly AU, and takes place in Season 9.

Chapter 1:

The doors to the ambulance bay opened, and Abby Lockhart walked out into the brisk Chicago evening. Standing a few feet away was Susan Lewis, a co-worker of Abby's.

"Hey," said Abby, nodding.

"Hey, you off?" Susan asked her.

"Yup. Finally," she replied. It hadn't been her best day. She had worked on a little girl who had been abused by her uncle. Her injuries had been too severe.

"That was a tough case Abby. It's not your fault," said Susan, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Susan, she was here two weeks ago. I should have picked up on…something." She reached into her purse and pulled out her cigarettes and lighter. Holding the cigarette in her lips, and using her left hand to shield the wind, she lit the cigarette and took a long drag.

"Don't be ridiculous. She was here for an earache. It's not your fault," she repeated.

"Well, it has to be someone's fault," Abby said, and started to walk out of the ambulance bay.

"Hey!" Susan called, "Are you gonna be ok? I'm off in 2 hours if you wanna wait."

Abby took another drag before answering.

"Thanks, Susan. But I'm fine. I'll see you later," she said, and continued walking out of the ambulance bay.

"You should call him Abby. I have the number," Susan said, her voice had a slight bit of desperation in it.

"No thanks." And with that, she left, passing an ambulance, leaving Susan to attend to the patient that had just arrived.

Abby was waiting on the platform for the El. She continued to smoke her cigarette as she thought.

Was she ok? She didn't think she was. Did it have to do with the patient today? Yes. Well, no. Not really.

If Carter were here, he would know just what to say, just what to do, to make her feel better. But, the reality was that Carter wasn't here. He wasn't in Chicago. He wasn't even in the country. He was in Africa, working as a doctor.

"What about me, Carter? I need you," she said. She wasn't going to cry. But it was damn hard not to.

"Abby, the people over there. They need so much help that they just aren't getting. I can help them," Carter responded, "It's the right thing to do."

The tears were coming. She could feel them, and she didn't think there was anything she could do to prevent them from falling.

"So, you're really going then." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"What's going to happen to us?" She said this quieter. Almost in a whisper, as if she didn't even want to know.

"I don't know," Carter said, shrugging, "I thought we could beat the distance."

"Yeah, but Carter. Thousands and thousands of miles would be between us. We'll barely have any communication. It's not like you can call whenever you want to. Things are different there. Why aren't you getting that?"

"So, what? Do you want a break from me?" Carter asked, his voice getting louder.

"Carter stop it-" she started.

"No. I won't stop it. You're the one saying the distance isn't going to work," he said angrily.

"You're the one who's leaving Carter!"

The tears fell.

Why they had left things like that, she didn't know. She hadn't heard from him in weeks. He called Susan every so often, to have her let everyone know he was ok. He never asked about Abby. He never said when he'd be back. If he'd be back.

A train arrived, but Abby didn't feel quite like leaving yet. She liked the fresh air. She'd catch the next one. Soon, she was alone on the platform, and went back to her thoughts.

She couldn't believe that she had pushed him away. She always thought that he'd be the one to stay.

A person walked up and sat next to Abby, waiting for the next El to arrive. She walked over to the cigarette receptacle and tossed her finished cigarette in. As she returned to the bench she continued thinking about Carter.

The idea of him never coming back was enough to make Abby's chest hurt.

Something was wrong. Her chest really did hurt. She pulled herself from her thoughts and placed a hand to her chest. Her hand was red. Blood? From where?

Someone was standing in front of her. By the size of the person, she guessed it was a man. The man who had sat down beside her maybe? She quickly sat down onto the bench.

All she felt was pain. She was having a difficult time keeping her eyes open. She was fighting a losing battle, and she had accepted that. As she laid her head to rest on the column next to the bench, she saw a face she never thought she'd see again.

She fought again to stay conscious, but it was no use. The last thing she saw before succumbing to the darkness was Paul Sobriki running away.