John pulled the Jeep up in front of their building. Abby looked toward him.
They both sat silently, for a moment, neither knowing what to say.
"John?" Abby asked, breaking the silence. She wondered why it didn't look like he was going to turn the Jeep off.
"Go on. I'm going to run down the street and get some cigarettes. Need anything?" His voice was so void of emotion that it threw Abby off guard.
"Uh, no, I guess not. Are you okay?" She asked, afraid to touch him.
"I'm fine," he said. Abby thought for a few moments, trying to figure out what she could possibly say to make this situation better but nothing came to mind. She opened the door and climbed out.
"So, I'll see you in a few minutes?" She asked, hopeful. Her stomach was telling her that there was something seriously wrong.
"Yeah, sure," he stated. John sat in the Jeep watching Abby as she entered their building. It wasn't until she stepped into the elevator that he finally pulled away.
Abby slowly made her way into their apartment, not bothering with lights or much of anything. It was late, she was tired and depressed, and she just wanted to go to bed and cry.
Abby kicked her heels off, leaving them wherever they rolled, unzipped her dress and pulling it over her head, also dropping the garment to the floor. She didn't even bother washing off her makeup or taking down her hair as she crawled under the cold covers, hugged John's pillow and wept.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
John drove to the all night convenience store on the corner and went inside. He approached the counter and immediately found himself checking out a display of pocketknives.
"May I help you?" The clerk asked him in a rather deep tone of voice.
"Uh… yeah, I need a couple packs of Marlboro's." John answered still fingering a rather large knife that he still held in his hand.
"Did you want the knife, also?" The man questioned as he rang up the cigarettes. John seemed to become lost and the clerk noticed that he seemed to not hear what he had asked.
"Sir? The knife, did you want that also?" He continued to try and get John's attention.
"No, I don't think so." John handed the knife back to the clerk and took out his wallet. Tossing a ten-dollar bill on the counter John took the cigarettes and began to walk out.
"Sir, your change." The man called out watching John turn to leave.
John was busy searching his pockets for a lighter when he remembered that he had thrown it away. He turned back to the clerk who was holding out his change for him.
"Just toss me a lighter and we'll call it even," John smiled toward the man.
"Have a good evening." The man smiled as he tossed him the lighter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
John leaned back in the seat, savoring the flavor of the nicotine. His exhaustion was getting the better of him as he started his Jeep and pulled out into the street to head home. He just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep forever. Thinking of his bed also made him think of Abby and the fact that she would be in it, but somehow that idea wasn't very comforting. She had said that she was sorry and he knew that she had been crying. How did everything become such a mess? She said that she loved him but how many times had he heard that one before.
'You know she never really loved you.' The little voice in his head continued to taunt him. 'You'll always be alone.' His thoughts would not let him forget that fact.
John found himself driving away from the direction of his apartment. He had no idea where he was going but he couldn't go home, not yet, maybe not ever. He just didn't have the strength to fight any longer. If she didn't want him, then he knew that there was nothing that he could do to make her want him. That was something that he had learned years ago. It was better to just let her go and soon he would forget her just like all the rest. He would find a way to move on but for now he needed to get away.
After about half an hour John found himself in Kerry's neighborhood. He could see a dim light on in the living room. Even though it was rather late, he felt that he needed to see her.
He didn't know why he was nervous as he stood outside her door waiting for her to answer. Maybe she was working or she was asleep already. John was just about to leave when the door opened slightly and Kerry stood in the doorway looking as if she had had a few. John smiled as he remembered the first time he had ever been to Kerry's home, back when he had been looking for a place to live. It had surprised him that it was Kerry's place that he had ended up at but he was even more surprised to see her a bit tipsy.
"Hey, Carter, come in." Kerry opened the door wider and gestured for him to come in. She immediately noticed that he seemed to be lost in thought and was wondering how on earth he ended up on her doorstep, dressed to kill.
John stepped inside and took a look around; he was amazed that everything was exactly like he remembered. He felt a bit embarrassed when he realized that Kerry had on her bathrobe and looked as if she was ready for bed.
"You know, maybe this was a mistake," he confessed, looking at his watch. "I didn't realize that it was so late. I'm really sorry," he stammered and turned to leave.
"Nonsense, Carter. That's a very nice tux, been out on the town?" Kerry asked. She seemed to understand that whatever had happened did not go well as his expression took on a very crestfallen appearance.
"Yeah, something like that," he answered in a rather dejected tone.
"I was just having a drink, would you like one?" She asked, not even thinking about the fact that he didn't drink.
"Yes, please," he replied without a second thought. John took off his tie and put it into his pocket before taking off his jacket and laying it across the back of the couch. He sat down and unbuttoned the top couple buttons of his stiff dress shirt as he watched Kerry pour him a drink. He really wasn't sure why he was there but it felt good, almost like coming home after being away for a very long time. He was just so tired and needed the solitude that he used to find so comfortably in Kerry's home.
Kerry watched intently as he poured the smooth liquid down his throat. It suddenly occurred to her that he shouldn't be drinking but he seemed to be enjoying it so much that she thought that it couldn't hurt and she would just keep an eye on him to make sure that he was okay. They sat silently for the longest time.
"John?" She looked at him as he relaxed against the back of the couch. He was removing his cuff links and rolling up his sleeves.
"Was there something that you needed to talk to me about?" She finally asked still wondering what had brought him here at this time of night.
John sat up and placed the empty glass and the cuff links on the coffee table and looked at her. It had been on his mind for a while now and he knew that she would eventually ask. He wasn't sure just what she would say or if she would be agreeable to his request, but he had finally made up his mind what he wanted… no, what he needed to do.
"Kerry, I need some time off…an extended personal leave." He swallowed hard, picking up the bottle of Southern Comfort and pouring another glass. "I need to get away for a while and I'm not really sure for how long…" His voice trailed off as he took a rather large swallow from the glass. The smooth liquid sent shivers through him as he relaxed again.
Kerry could see that he was clearly upset about something as he struggled to hold back his emotions. She watched him take another rather stiff swallow and exhale deeply but he never looked at her.
"John, I'll do what I can but I need to know why you need the time off." Kerry claimed, hoping that she could find out a little more about what was on his mind.
John very seldom ever asked for much more than a few days in a row. Only once, years ago he took a two-week vacation to visit his sister in Europe but that had been a long time ago. The only other times he had ever taken any length of time off was when he was on medical leave for the stabbing and his addiction. Kerry thought that maybe if he would talk to her, that he would find that things weren't all as bad as he thought.
"Uhmm…I just said… I need to get away for awhile, look if this is going to be a problem, I'll just give you my notice now and I won't be back at all." John snapped at her. He suddenly got up, grabbed his jacket and started to leave.
"John, please, come sit down." Kerry quickly stood and followed after him.
She had never known him to act like this, but given his recent problems she seemed to understand that he was having a difficult time dealing with everything that had been going on. She knew he was asking for her help and she needed to find a way to do just that without driving him away.
John stopped just short of the door but never turned back. He just stood with his back to Kerry as he tried to keep his emotions at bay. He felt himself crumbling inside and he needed to sit before he fell. He made his way back to the couch and sat down covering his face in his hands.
"God, Kerry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to lose it like that, but I'm so tired of having to explain myself to everyone. I just want to get away and think in peace without everyone wanting to know what's wrong with me. I don't know what's wrong with me." John was shaking as the tears overtook him and he began to wipe furiously at his face.
"Oh, John, it's going to be okay, really, Honey, it is." Kerry sat alongside of him, handing him a box of tissue and refilling his glass. She knew that drinking was definitely not a good thing but she hoped that it would help him calm down. She also knew that he wouldn't agree to a sedative, which she thought that he desperately needed, but the alcohol would have to do.
"No, Kerry, nothing is ever going to all right, not now, not ever," he sobbed uncontrollably.
"John, I'm sure you'll feel different after a good nights sleep." She really didn't know what else to say to him. "You can stay here if you would like. I can make up the bed downstairs and you can sleep in your old room." She smiled sweetly hoping that he would consider her offer.
"Okay, yeah…I am pretty tired, but I can make the bed up myself, I don't want to put you out." John's demeanor quickly changed as a smile spread from ear to ear. For a moment he was happy, happy to be home even if it was just for one night.
"Do you want to call Abby and let her know where you are?" Kerry thought that there had to be a reason that John didn't want to go home and she was determined to find out what it was.
"No, I don't want to talk to her," he spat angrily. "Besides she doesn't care about me, never did, it was all just a big joke and the joke was on me."
Kerry couldn't help but notice how quickly his moods changed from one minute to the next. When he was talking about getting some sleep he seemed to have calmed down considerably, but at the mere suggestion of calling Abby, he was once again completely irrational.
"Did the two of you have a fight?" Kerry asked as she went to the linen closet to find him some bedding.
John sat quietly and poured himself another drink. It had been a long time since he had actually allowed himself the luxury of getting plastered and this seemed like the perfect time to do just that.
John thought for a moment about Kerry's question and began to laugh. Kerry turned around with a set of sheets and laid them on the coffee table. She had never seen him change moods so quickly now he was completely hysterical. Choosing to ignore him, she went back to finding him a blanket and pillow. She decided it best not to try and figure out what had happened. Picking up the pile of linens, she left him sitting on the couch as she took them down to the basement.
John sat back with his eyes closed, perfectly content in his drunken stupor until he realized how quiet it had gotten. Looking around, he noticed that Kerry was no longer in the room. 'Maybe she went to bed,' he thought. Well he couldn't much blame her, it seemed that no one wanted anything to do with him so why would she?
He got up, took his glass to the sink, and poured himself some water from the tap. It had been ages since he drank and he had forgotten just how thirsty the alcohol made him.
Kerry had managed to get the sheets and blanket onto the bed and had begun to put a slipcover on the pillow when she heard John staggering down the stairs.
"You gonna make it?" She teased as she watched him from the doorway.
His smile spread across his face at seeing her, standing there waiting for him. He moved closer toward her, leaned over, and pulled her into his arms. Nuzzling her neck, he spoke softly.
"You are so beautiful, Kerry, have I ever told you that?" He grinned, kissing her neck.
"John Carter, you're drunk," she snickered as she pulled away.
"I'm not that drunk, Kerry Weaver." He slurred mocking her as he took her arm and pressed himself against her. "I can still get it up," he grinned wickedly at her.
"Carter, go to bed before I throw you out on your ear," Kerry laughed as she pulled out of his grasp and headed upstairs.
It took John a few moments for her words to sink in. Of course, she wouldn't want him. What was he thinking? No one wanted him. 'Alone'. That was what he was destined to be, 'forever alone.'
John stripped down to his underwear and crawled into bed. The alcohol had managed to numb his mind just enough to make him forget about everything as he instantly slipped into a deep sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Abby pulled the pillow over her head, trying to drown out the noise but it was useless. Groaning, she reached up and turned off the alarm. Why didn't she choose a career that allowed her to sleep later? With great effort, she opened one eye and stared at the clock. She knew she'd better get up or she'd end up falling back asleep. She'd always hated mornings but it was those few seconds, right when you woke and you realized that your bed was the most comfortable place in this world were the hardest for her. How easy it would be to just pull the covers back up, snuggle into his warm arms and drift back into dreamland.
His arms? The thought took a second to formulate in her cloudy mind. His who? Who else, you idiot, she thought. John.
Abby sat up quickly, staring at the empty side of the bed. "Oh, my God." She mumbled to herself, her thoughts quickly picking up speed. "John? John? Where are you?" She called, stumbling out of the bedroom and into the living room, praying she'd find him sleeping on the couch.
When she found no one around, she quickly ran to the guestroom, her fears turning into a full fledge panic. "John?" She yelled, fighting back the tears. "Oh, God." She cried, running for the phone.
"Carter Residence, may I help you?" A sleepy voice answered. Abby didn't realize the ungodly hour she was calling.
"Uh, yes, this is Abby Lockhart. Can I speak to Millicent or Eleanor? Please, it's an emergency," she blurted out. As she waited, Abby thought maybe she should call the hospitals if he wasn't at his grandmother's house.
"Abby, dear, do you realize what time it is? Oh, God, what's happened to John?" Millicent asked.
"So, he's not there?" She clarified.
"Why no dear, I haven't seen him since I retired. Didn't he go home with you?" She asked, her voice full of concern. Abby was doing everything she could to hold back the sobs.
"No, ma'am. Well, yes, ma'am. He did come home with me but we got in a fight on the way home and I haven't seen him since he dropped me off outside. That was hours ago. Oh, God, what if he's hurt?" Abby couldn't hold back any longer. The tears began to flow.
"There now, dear. Calm down. John does have a tendency to go off someplace where he can think when he's under stress. What in the world did the two of you fight about? The last I saw, you couldn't keep your hands off one another." Millicent tried to keep it light, for Abby's sake.
"Oh, God, how did this get so messed up?" Abby sobbed, cradling the phone.
"Abby, dear, what happened?" Millicent couldn't believe the shape that Abby sounded to be in. Something must have gone horribly wrong after she'd gone to bed.
Abby proceeded to tell Millicent about the events that had transpired, about the white lie, the act they put on and about the proposal. She told Millicent how much his words had meant to her but that she knew it was all an act to cover up for their story. Then she told Millicent about the drive home and about the fight. She told her that she had slapped him. She told her about what John had said to her and about John driving away, unresponsive and dead emotionally.
“Oh, Abby, Honey, I don't think that John thought it wasn't for real. He would never kid around about something so serious. I have seen the way he looks at you and that boy is head over heels in love with you." Millicent confirmed. She was really more interested in Abby's response.
"Oh, God, I think I hurt him terribly. I love him too, I just didn't realize…" Abby broke down and cried.
Millicent did the best she could to reassure Abby that John was just blowing off steam, that he just needed to get away for a while. She encouraged Abby to continue with her life and her responsibilities, convincing Abby that he was probably already at work, doing what he loved so much. He'd apologize, she'd apologize and all would be well again.
The moment she was off the phone, however, Millicent called for Algier.
"Algier, we're going out," she stated.
"Where, Ma'am at this hour? He asked, still sounding half asleep into the phone.
"Dammit, Algier, my grandson is missing and we're going to find him!" Millicent slammed the telephone down. "Eleanor!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Abby walked into the hospital right in the middle of a multiple victim trauma.
"Abby! Thank God you're here!" Susan called, donned in gown and glasses. "We've got an MVA and we need your help. Stow your gear and get back out here. There's several more coming!"
"Is John here?" Abby called over the noise. Susan shook her head.
"Not yet. Isn't he with you?" Susan called over the gurney as she ran inside. Abby waved her on as she quickly rushed inside the lounge to put her purse away. Before she knew it, she was immersed in her life in the ER.
To be continued………….
Copyright Footer', 'This site is not affiliated in any way with "ER", its writers or production company, or NBC, and makes no profit from the show. The ERROS skin is by Brihana. The script is eFiction version 3.4.2© Tammy Keefer, http://efiction.org\r\n