RATING: R (language and sexual situations)
SPOILERS: Season 7-present
ARCHIVE: email me and tell me where
DISCLAIMER: I have John Carter handcuffed to my headboard.... and yet, I still don't own any characters, rights, blah, blah, blah, etc. etc. etc.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: My chapters usually tend to be on the short side... bear with me! : ) Fic authors live for feedback, whether positive or negative! Love it? Hate it? Lemme know!
SUMMARY: A sudden change in events forces Abby to make a drastic decision
*Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...*
Abby Lockhart's alarm startled her into the world of the conscious. She rolled over and pounced on the off button with a force to wake the dead.
*15 minutes later*
"Abby? Aaaaabbbyyyy.... Sweetheart, time to get up." John Carter walked to the other side of the bed and knelt down beside her, shaking her gently. "Abby. Your shift starts in less than an hour... time to get up."
John smiled. "Yes. Come on... Rise and shine." Waiting a few moments he said, "Abby. Now. You're gonna be late for your shift.... You're not sick, you don't have a fever. Get up."
"I'm not going today," Abby mumbled, pulling the covers over her head.
Sighing, John grabbed his coat. "Fine. I'll tell Weaver you're sick and you can deal with her later. Abby?" His only answer was the sound of gentle snoring.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Hey, Carter?" Malik stepped into the lounge, clutching a pile of charts. "Weaver needs you in Trauma 1."
Putting his hand over the end of his cell phone, Carter turned to face Malik. "Tell her I'm on my break. Get Lewis, she's asleep in Exam 2."
Not wanting to pester him, but feeling he had to, Malik continued. "She... she specifically asked for you."
Carter sighed. "Malik, I'm in the middle of a very important phone call. Please, just tell her I'll be there in a minute. If she doesn't like it she can get someone else."
"Okay, man. Whatever you say," Malik replied, leaving the lounge and heading to Trauma 1.
In the lounge, Carter paced back and forth, listening to the buzz of the phone, then finally the click of the answering machine, 'Hello, you've reached John Carter and Abby Lockhart. We're unable to answer the phone right now, so if you'd please leave your name and number, we'll get back to you.' *Beep* "Abby... Sweetheart, it's me. Abby, please pick up the phone... Alright, look, I'll be home around seven. Call me when you get this message. Okay... I love you... bye." Carter closed his cell phone with a sigh. He'd left six messages before this one, telling her each time to call him, and nothing yet. She never acted like this, at least not when she was sober, which she had been for almost a year. He was beginning to get extremely worried about her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
John checked his watch as he climbed the stairs to their apartment. *7:15* Hopefully she'd be home and in one piece. His stomach turned as he unlocked the door.
"Abby?" There was no answer. "I'm home... Abby?" He searched the apartment, calling her name. Again and again, no answer. He returned to the living room and pressed a button on the answering machine. 'You have seven new messages.'