The sun had sunk below the horizon over an hour ago, but the ambulance bay was lit up with the flashes of car headlights, and the red glow from Doc Magoo’s. It forced her eyes shut – she’d come out here to get away from the constant noise and the invasive bright lights, but even in the gentle popping of the rain on the cement, it wasn’t any more peaceful.

She heard him sit down next to her, felt the bench shift, his arm brush hers. He stayed silent, and she kept her eyes closed.

They had a strange friendship; they both knew that. It was like the physical side of a relationship was stripped away, and everything that was left was heightened, intensified. She spent the nights at her boyfriend’s hotel, wrapped up in unfamiliar sheets, and hurried away as soon as light knifed through the drapes. She didn’t talk to him, except to whisper more lies against his lips. She didn’t talk to him, except to dismiss concerns and take orders at work.

The only person she could talk to was the one sat right next to her. And at the moment, he wasn’t saying a word.

She opened her eyes, looking over at him through damp eyelashes. “You found me.”

He managed a smile as faint as the far-off scent of smoke in the air. “You’re hardly Where’s Waldo out here, you know.”

She kept her head bowed, but nodded. “There I was, thinking I was all cryptic…”

“I saw how you were in the trauma.” He paused. “You get the need to come out into the fresh air. Into the dark.”

“You know me pretty well,” she allowed, quietly.

“Great minds think alike,” he replied. “I’m the same.”

They stayed in silence for a few moments, taking this in. Sometimes she’s too scared to think over what they have; it’s an entity all of it’s own, one that can’t be controlled, and she has never known how to respond to things out of her control. She knew it couldn’t be too normal, to live out her emotional life with another man. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to push it all away.

“I guess we’re both as fucked up as each other, then,” she finished, mostly joking.

He didn’t say anything straight away. “It was a hard trauma.” He picked at the cuff of his lab coat. “There wasn’t anything we could do for her. She was too far gone.”

There was a smile on her lips, but it didn’t reach her tired eyes. “I know.”

She wasn’t surprised when he reached over, rested his hand on her arm. She felt a shiver that she attributed to the weather. “You did what you could. We all did. The mixture of pills…she was down too long. You don’t come back from that.”

“I know,” she repeated, softly. “I know. I’ve…I’ve seen so many people in those rooms, people who’ve taken too many pills or slashed at their wrists or tied a rope around their neck. I don’t know what felt so different about this one.”

“Some days are just harder than others.”

“You got that right.” She looked up again, across the ambulance bay, at the light skipping across the puddles. “My mom could be out there right now…doing exactly that.”

He looked over at her, but didn’t say anything.

“She’s tried it before.” She had to close her eyes again – feeling overwhelmed by the red and the white, both vying for dominance in the inky-black night. “Too many times to count. And now I don’t know where she is, or what she’s doing, and…”

She trailed off, pursing her lips together as if stopping the words from coming out would negate their meaning. His hand slid down her arm to her fingers, and he gave them a squeeze. She pried open her eyes and turned her gaze to his.

“I don’t want to care,” she whispered. “I don’t have the energy anymore.”

“But you can’t stop yourself,” he finished for her, gently. “I think we both know about that destructive kick, needing to do something you know is no good for you. And she’s your family…”

“Family,” she echoed, studying the collar of his shirt. “She doesn’t feel much like family lately.”

He nodded. “Family is pretty much a double-edged sword.”

She paused, then looked up at him again, a true smile flashing across her face. “What does that even mean?”

His sombre expression broke into a laugh. “Damned if I know. I say these things for dramatic effect.”

She let the laughter wash through her, cleansing that ache from her heart. “I always suspected you were full of it, Carter.”

“Just promise not to give me away,” he winked.

“I won’t.” She had to look away again, or she would start to question why, in an hour, she’d be going home with someone else. Going back to a hotel, to sleep in cold sheets, to have sex that couldn’t have meant less if they were strangers. “Thanks for coming out here…”

“Of course.” His voice tilted her chin up again. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”

Even her heartbeat was confused. It didn’t know whether to race or slow to a stop. She pushed up a smile. “That, and the deep thoughts.”

He matched her smile. “Gotcha.”

She looked behind him, at the buzzing light emanating from the hospital. “I better get back inside. Mr Phelps in curtain three is gonna be pissed off that I haven’t been back to take him to the bathroom yet.”

He nodded, and stood up. “I better go too. So much more wisdom to spread…”

She caught his gaze briefly, an almost shy smile flitting across her lips. “See you later, Carter.”

His eyes fell on that smile, and then he was heading back towards the door. “You know where I am if you want to…talk some more.”

“Thank you,” she replied, and she meant it.

“No problem.” He tipped his head in a courteous nod that was betrayed by a smile not many people got to see. “See you later Abby.”

The doors slid open with a gentle hiss, and he disappeared, but she didn’t move yet. Just a few more minutes. A few more minutes and she could separate her life back up again.

She pushed up from the bench, brushing her hair from her face and wiping the rain dew on to her scrubs. Then, with a deep breath, she turned and headed back into the ER.