SUMMARY: He should have figured it out, he could have prevented this whole thing if he had. But he didn't, and that fact made him feel even worse.
* * * *
By the third knock, Carter was worried. Abby hadn't mentioned anything to him about leaving her house tonight. Maybe she was in the shower...?
"Abby?!" Carter called. He shifted the box of pizza he'd brought for dinner into his left hand and knocked louder on her door. "You in there? It's Carter." He heard footsteps and then the door opened slightly, with the chain still attached. Carter caught a glimpse of her through the small opening.
God, what had she done to herself?
Her eyes were red rimmed and her pupils were dilated. The guilty expression on her face and smell of alcohol on her breath were proof undeniable of what she had been up to. All at once, Carter knew what was going on. A pang of guilt hit him in the stomach, and all he could do was stare at her worn out face in shock. He should have figured it out, he could have prevented this whole thing if he had. But he didn't, and that fact made him feel even worse.
The door closed and following a momentary lapse filled with the murmur of locks being opened, it then opened entirely. Carter took this as a signal to come in, and did so. No sooner had he stepped over the door frame then Abby walked right over and leaned into him, gripping his shirt between her fingers. Carter embraced her with one arm, trying to comfort her as he set the pizza on a near by table. He then wrapped that arm around her and stroked her head lightly, as if he was comforting a frightened child. His strong, warm frame and scent enveloped her, and she relaxed easily into him.
Abby never let herself be this open with anyone. It was dangerous to open up this much to anyone, and the act scared her to death. But right now, Abby was more afraid of herself then of what anyone else could do to further damage her torn soul.
Carter knew that they couldn't discuss her drinking now. She was barely sober, and right now all she could possibly want from anyone was comfort. It wouldn't help her to be forced to an AA meeting right then and there. Or to lecture her on the mistakes she'd had made--she knew her poor choices and their consequences well by this point. When you were coming down, you felt helpless and the loneliness was unbearable. Cater would know.
* * * *
Carter couldn't remember how, but they'd ended up in the living room. Abby was asleep on the couch, and he kept watch in a near by chair. The bottle of Aspirin was on the coffee table, along with a glass of water. Abby would need them both when she woke up.
Carter watched her sleep, wishing he could do something to make this night go by at least a bit more easily for her. A half empty bottle of beer sat next to the lone lamp that cast a feverish glare over the apartment. Abby's hair stuck to her sweaty face, and her eyes darted about underneath closed lids chasing things only she could see. Abby would mumble something in her sleep, although Carter could never really pick out what she was saying, then grumble and turn over.
How long had her relapse been going on? Why hadn't she told him about it? Carter couldn't ask her, so he ran these questions through his mind over and over, as he watched her troubled sleep.
* * * *
Sometime later that night, Carter awoke, not remembering he'd even fallen asleep in the first place. Abby was sitting up, staring at her knees, her mouth slightly agape. Her head snapped up at the sound of Carter shifting his position on the chair. She looked at him meaningly with a million emotions written all over her face, more prominently guilt and pain. Neither one of them needed to speak. They just understood.
Carter got up and went over to sit next to her. Abby felt the couch sink lower under his added weight, realizing how long it had been since someone had sat with her here. They sat in silence for awhile.
"Why didn't you let me know?" Carter asked softly. They looked at each other, the question Carter had posed hung in the air. A tear rolled down Abby's cheek and she sniffled. She felt weak and vulnerable and she hated it with a passion, but she also hated being vulnerable to something she couldn't control. Carter and she, Abby could control, alcohol and she, Abby could not.
"I'm sorry. I thought I could..." Her voice trailed off and her eyes overflowed. "Carter, help me." Hot, fat tears began to fall as she rested her head in the crook of his neck, wetting the soft fabric covering his shoulder. Carter put an arm around her back and pulled her closer to him. What he was going to say to her when he came over could wait. There were more important things they had to deal with.
He leaned over and kissed the top of Abby's head slowly, nestling his chin into her soft hair and exhaling. He wanted to tell Abby that everything would be all right, but that decision was up to her. So instead, they sat in silence that was pierced by Abby's gasps for air. Carter's steady heartbeat humming against her as it lulled her to sleep. Then he simply held Abby, curling his body protectively
around her, until she fell asleep in his arms.
~La Fin~
Author's Note: Huge kudos to Robbie who did a *fantastic* job betaing, as well as putting up with me and the disappearing pizza box. :) THANK YOU SO MUCH! Also--mucho thanks to my English class who sat through my 5 drafts and covered for me when my teacher asked what the hell I was doing. To Raine--for recommending great betas for me. (We will finish that fic together someday my dear.) And to Jamie, who told me that beer doesn't burn, it makes you drunk. I forever am and will be, a hard-core P.I.L groupie. THANKS GUYS! I couldn't have done it without you!
~AD
