Category: Carby

Rating: PG – 13

Spoilers: None … all made up. ; )

Summary: Something happened to Abby. Will she tell Carter?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything … ; )

Feedback: Sure, I'd love to know what you think! [email protected] or use the review button. ; )

Author's notes: I saw a movie about something like that and the girl was all alone after it happened – her boyfriend left her … I thought Carter would handle it differently – so I wrote this. ; )

There is quite a lot more written but I'm stuck now … maybe to hear what you think will encourage me to go on – or make me stop. ; ) So, please let me know what you think. ; ) Thanks! : )

I don't know how long I've been running, but I stop about 50 meters away from our apartment. It feels like I was running for ages, but I can't be sure.

Really, I don't know anything. My mind is blank. I'm grateful I even found the way home.

I can feel my heart racing while I wipe away the sweat from my forehead and straighten my clothes. I have to catch my breath, but it's easier said than done.

I stand under a street light now and try to breathe. It is already dark and I feel a bit more comfortable here. Not many people walk past me since it is already nearly midnight, but better a few than none.

Now that I calm down a bit, I notice that one of my ribs hurts.

He must have kicked me. That's the price when you try to defend yourself I guess.

I start to walk quickly towards our apartment.

I hope John is not there. He should be, but maybe he had to go to the hospital because of an unexpected emergency.

I look up before I climb the steps to the outside door. There is no light switched on, so maybe I am lucky. I really don't want him to know. He'd worry and I had to tell him everything. I really don't want to go through that again.

It is embarrassing and he'd only pity me, which is the last thing I need now. I just want to take a shower and be alone. I will get over it.

So I go up the steps and stop in front of the locked door.

Where on earth are my damn keys when I need them? All I want is to get in as soon as possible. Even the wind whistling in the trees is scaring me.

I remember his words. You should have your keys already out. You never know who might be lurking. I wish I listened to what he said back then.

I go on fumbling in my bag, and it falls to the ground. All my stuff is spread in front of my feet. I bend down nervously to pick up my things with shaking hands. But I still can't find my keys. God, what if he has them?

I really need to get in now so I decide to ring Mr Gardinsky's bell. He is always at home, always up late, friendly, and lives on the first floor; surely he can open the door for me.

It feels like ages until I hear his footsteps come closer.

I can hear his keys in the door before he finally opens it.

He looks at me, surprised.

"Miss Lockhart, I didn't expect you. Did you forget your keys? Come in, dear, it is pretty cold outside; you'll catch cold."

I try my best not to let him see how I feel.

"Thank you, Mr. Gardinsky." I bring finally out. It didn't sound like I wanted it to sound, but I don't think he is suspicious. "Yes, I forgot my keys and my boyfriend is not at home. I am sorry that you had to answer the door because of me, it won't happen again."

I try to walk past him quickly but his voice stops me.

"That's okay, dear. But I think Doctor Carter is at home. I saw him earlier on his way up."

I think my heart stops beating when I hear him say that. I am not good at lying to him. I hope I can do this, I hope he won't notice.

"Oh, then he must be asleep already and didn't hear the doorbell. I am sorry, but I really have to go now. Thank you again." I say and hurry up the stairs.

I feel bad that I just leave him standing there, but I really can't deal with anyone right now.

I will just sneak in, have a quick shower, and then I will crawl into bed next to him. Maybe he's already asleep and won't even notice.

I have to catch my breath again when I reach our door.

And then it hits me. I don't have the keys to our apartment either.

Oh no, I will have to wake him up.

I inhale and exhale deeply before I ring our bell.

It takes only a few seconds before he opens the door. Maybe he wasn't sleeping. Maybe he was waiting for me. He is really the best boyfriend a girl could ask for. But even though I know it, I can't tell him what happened tonight.

He looks at me and smiles his gorgeous smile.

"Hey, beautiful. I was waiting for you to get home. You forgot your keys," he says and points at my keys on the shelf next to the door. I am relieved; at least he doesn't have them.

"I tried to wait up, but I fell asleep. Did anything happen? I was starting to worry," I hear him say before he leans in to kiss me on the cheek and to give me a hug.

I flinch under his touch. I can't believe that I do; I know he loves me and would never hurt me. But I couldn't help it, it was a reflex.

I am glad that he doesn't seem to notice.

"No, nothing happened," I bring out with a shaky voice while I try to free myself from his embrace to walk past him. "I had to work a bit longer."

He watches me taking my coat off for a moment before he closes the door.

"Are you sure nothing happened? You don't sound okay," he says while he comes up from behind and wraps his arms around my waist.

I can't take his touch any longer when he starts to run his hand over my stomach.

"Of course I'm sure." I force my lips to form a smile. God, please let it look real. "Sorry, I really have to go to the bathroom."

That is a good excuse to get away from him.

I close the door behind myself. "I'm going to take a shower -  you can go on to bed," I call to him through the closed door and turn on the water immediately. I don't want him to ask any questions. Maybe he'll go to bed already before I get out.

"A shower? Now?" I hear him ask but I pretend not to have caught it.

I turn around to look at myself in the mirror.

I don't like what I see. I look like hell. No surprise that he didn't believe me when I told him nothing happened. Hopefully, the shower will help.

And I feel dirty. I have to get this smell off myself. I feel like throwing up when I think of his aftershave.

I take off my clothes and throw them into a corner. They disgust me. I never want to see them again. I have to burn them. Or at least throw them away.

I step into the shower and the cool water calms me down a bit when it hits my body.

I let myself fall against the wall and slide down, the water still running over me.

I wonder if I can ever forget this. At the moment I am sure I never can. I hope I am wrong.

Tears start to trickle down my cheeks. I don't want to cry, but I can't hold it back any longer. Better to do it now than later. He won't notice when I cry here.

A soft knock at the door brings me out of my thoughts and I rub my eyes.

"Abby? You've been in there for a while. Is everything alright?"

I clear my throat before I answer. "Yeah, I'll be out in a minute."

I must have been in here longer than I thought.

I am trying hard to act normal, but I don't think I am very successful.

I turn off the water and get out of the shower.

I put on my underwear and one of Carter's shirts. I'd rather have more on when I go out there, but I forgot to bring my pyjamas in with me.

The lights are out when I get out of the bathroom. I search my way through the room to the bed. He doesn't move – maybe he's finally sleeping.

No, I feel him shift when I lie down next to him.

He turns around and starts to stroke my cheek and kiss me.

"Oh, very sexy," he says and smiles when he notices that I am wearing his shirt.

I can hardly take it when he touches one of my breasts and lets his hand slide further down to my stomach.

I inhale sharply when he touches my hurting rib.

He stops immediately and switches on the light.

"Abby, what's wrong? And don't say it's nothing; we both know it is not true. Did I hurt you?" he asks. Before I can protest, he lifts my shirt. We can both see the big bruise on the left side of my ribcage. I am shocked myself. I didn't see it earlier.

"It's nothing," I say and tug my shirt down again. I wince when I get out of the bed, being careful not to look at him. I can't look into his worried eyes and not tell him the truth.

I can't believe I didn't notice the pain before. It really hurts. I guess the adrenaline is out of my bloodstream now. I think my rib might be broken.

He gets up and follows me to the window but I don't turn around.

"Abby, please tell me what happened. It looks like your rib is broken - it can't be nothing. How did that happen?"

Come on Abby, think!

"A patient," I say. Yeah, that's good, it was a patient. "The patient … I … she … errr … he was manic and kicked around." God, I have to stop stuttering, that doesn't sound convincing. I should have made up a story before I got here. I knew he'd ask. "He kicked me. That's where the bruise is from."

"A patient?" I know he doesn't believe me. But I can't tell him. He'd be disgusted if he knew the truth.

"Yeah, a patient."

He looks at me, and I can tell that he is thinking hard. He is thinking of a strategy to get the truth out of me. He won't let go until he knows. "Let me take a look then," he says and touches my side. I move and turn away from him.

It pains me that I can't take his touch. I used to love the feeling of his skin on mine. But now it is different. It scares me and I don't know if I will ever be able to enjoy it again. I don't know if I can ever let him hug me or even hold his hand again without being scared.

I look back over my shoulder. I can see that he is hurt. I did it again. I hurt him. I didn't mean to. He didn't do anything. But I can't help it. It is an instinct, to protect myself from even more pain, even though I know he is different and would never hurt me.

He takes a step back and sighs in frustration.

I don't know what to say. He is about to ask again. "Uh, Susan already checked it. It is nothing serious," I say, though I know he won't buy it.

"Did she take an x-ray?"

I nod. Of course she didn't. She doesn't even know about all this. But I don't want him to suggest that we go and take one.

"Good, I will take a look at it tomorrow then."

He knows, he knows it is not the truth. And he knows that I know that he doesn't believe me.

This time I sigh. "You really don't need to."

He is waiting for me to give up, to tell him what's wrong.

He looks at me and stretches his hand out to me. "Come here, Abby. Please come here and tell me the truth. We both know you are lying. You can trust me; you can tell me whatever it is. I know something happened to you. Something that's upsetting you. You're distant and distracted, and you've had this scared look on your face since you came home tonight. It helps to talk about it, believe me."

He keeps on looking at me and his hand is still inviting me to take it. "Or did I do something wrong?" he suddenly asks, the expression on his face changing to not only concern but also a hint of guilt.

"No!" I exclaim quickly. How could he think that? He didn't do anything. Truthfully, I know why – I pushed him away.

"Then why won't you let me touch you? Please talk to me. I want to help you."

I look at his hand. It is not big and muscular; it won't cover my mouth to make me silent. It is soft and loving.

I start to remember the way he used to touch me. And I can see the concern in his eyes.

The vision of him gets blurry as my eyes begin to fill with tears.