That Little Candelabra
SPOILERS: Seasons 1-6
ARCHIVE: You really want to? Wow!
DISCLAIMER: Don’t own characters. No money made. Don’t sue.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Not quite an angst, romance, or anything just an interesting little idea I had about season one. I’d love feedback.
SUMMARY: She ends up reliving it all. Was it all a dream?
Carol sat in a rocking chair swaying slightly back and forth; looking at the candelabra perched on the mantle. It was lit, and the yellowish wax flowed down the sides. Held in that candelabra were all her memories. Everything she’d done.
She remembered in 1994 when she and Doug had just broken up. How she’d taken a long vacation to the Bahamas to heal her aching heart. Then when she’d come back, and Doug had tried to force his way back into her life. She had pushed him away in favor of the more tame Tag. Then they’d gotten engaged, but no wedding ever took place. It had been canceled on its scheduled date because of her feelings toward Tag. How she didn’t love him as much as he loved her. She remembered the yummy pizza of the Christmas party that year. She remembered her next boyfriend, Shep the fireman. How he’d been presumed dead in a fire, but had turned out to be fine with a few burns. Then they’d broken up, and she’d moved on to Tony. Then there was that night after her second date with Tony. Doug waiting in the bushes near her doorstep for her. How she’d so willingly accepted him back into her life. Their secret love affair because she wasn’t willing to tell their co-workers. How she’d given him a drawer for his belongings when he stayed over. How Elizabeth had flirted with him while she and Doug were dating. When they’d eventually moved in together. Then came that Christmas when she’d finally told everyone that they were dating again, to the surprise of absolutely no one, but then to the surprise of everyone including her he’d proposed marriage. That Christmas had been a wonderful time with a beautiful engagement ring resting on her finger. Then they had tried to get pregnant, unsuccessfully. Then how things had taken a turn for the worst. That patient Ricky Abbott had ruined her perfect life. How Doug had given him death as a final gift, and how he’d left because of it, to protect his friends and her. How she’d refused to go with him to Seattle, and how she’d moved on with her life. Then she found out she was pregnant with twins, and Doug hadn’t come back because she told him not too. The memory of his hurt voice when she asked him not to come back rang in her ears. How she’d turned to Luka for support, and they’d become boyfriend and girlfriend. The eventful births of the twins as she went into labor on the El. How Tess had been born in the trauma room, and how the second twin had a prolapsed cord. How she’d bled out during her surgery, and almost had her uterus taken out. How the surgeons had saved her, uterus and all. On her birthday how Doug had continued their tradition, and sent her dozens of boxes of animal crackers. She’d still been in love with him, and so she packed her bags and came to Seattle. Without the twins at first, leaving them with her mom, and found Doug tying up his boat. Then they’d gone back for the twins, and they celebrated Tess and Kate’s first birthday together. Then a few months later, they got married.
It was lovely to go over her past, the little candelabra held so much of her history.
Suddenly she woke from her trance. The little candelabra still sat on the mantle, but something wasn’t right. Little bits of the room told her this wasn’t right. She was in Chicago! She couldn’t be. She lived with Doug in Seattle by a lake. This was her apartment in Chicago; she hadn’t been here in years. She looked at a calendar by the kitchen sink. 1994? No that wasn’t right, it was 2003. Where were the twins? Where was everything? Where was Doug? Where was her bed? Where was the drawer she’d given him? Where was Tess’ teddy bear, and Kate’s pink bow? She must be dreaming, yes that was it! She blinked quickly flushing the nonsense out of existence. “Doug!” She called confused. There was no answer. This was 1994. That little bottle of Barbiturates sat on the counter. She still had to deliver it to a patient. Suddenly she grabbed the little bottle from the counter, and ripped off its top.
And with a little bottle of pills, Carol Hathaway changed the course of history.