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Post by luby2534 on Mar 4, 2007 6:44:40 GMT 10
That was the saddest update i have ever read...it was like been there in the room with them.
I hope they get through this!!
That was an amazing update Maggie
Please update again real soon !!!!
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Post by hannaviola on Mar 4, 2007 6:47:48 GMT 10
I just read all the chapters and it's beautiful! I have no idea how you got the words so...just right... The last chapter just totally make me cry! but, yeah it was great, beautiful!
(btw sorry for my bad english)
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Post by zelda on Mar 4, 2007 8:48:02 GMT 10
Maggie, Just reading the title, I had a bad omen! This is probably one of the darkest chapters I have read! I started shivering when you described Abby's mechanical gestures in the bathroom! I had never read lines like this, showing with such simplicity how broken, exhausted and empty they both are! The end is absolutely excruciating!
Karma for you, and your amazing sensitivity, even though my screen is blurred right now!
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kcabrasil
Countess of Luby
Could I be more mess up?
Posts: 182
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Post by kcabrasil on Mar 4, 2007 9:41:47 GMT 10
so emotional...
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Post by mags on Mar 6, 2007 11:42:36 GMT 10
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Post by rorygilmore on Mar 6, 2007 19:07:34 GMT 10
Hey! Where are you? I demand an update...NOW! Come here and fix this!...or I'll make you an honorable member of our 'Smitten Kittens' Club, with a: -200 karma... I'm loving your fic maggie, these kind of problems and heartbreaking epis make me want to read more and more (also the hot and sweaty epic epis...). You got me totally hooked to the story. I'm your biggest fan...wait! i think I'm gonna found the 'HoMaggieMaurasexual club' keeeeeeeep on, girl!
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Post by luby2534 on Mar 8, 2007 8:18:30 GMT 10
Maggie.....where are you ??
We need an update !!
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Post by maggie on Mar 8, 2007 10:07:10 GMT 10
Blah...I'm sick. I'm sorry. Note to all: take your iron pills.
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Post by hollygirl on Mar 8, 2007 10:35:56 GMT 10
Hope you feel better soon!!! we need an update!
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Post by Ninolino on Mar 8, 2007 13:56:54 GMT 10
Blah...I'm sick. I'm sorry. Note to all: take your iron pills. What?! Why?! Does that mean we get more sad updates..? Or, that you're are not gonna update in a while..? I hope you feel better.. I don't ask for a quick update, I know you'll write it when you get your strength back. And it will be amazing, sad or happy... Get well soon!
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Post by maggie on Mar 8, 2007 14:36:10 GMT 10
What?! Why?! Does that mean we get more sad updates..? Or, that you're are not gonna update in a while..? Heh...no, it means I'm sick because I'm anemic and I was too lazy to take my vitamins. Basically, I'm just really tired and I have a nasty headache. After a couple more days, I'll be back to normal.
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Post by Ninolino on Mar 8, 2007 14:49:54 GMT 10
What?! Why?! Does that mean we get more sad updates..? Or, that you're are not gonna update in a while..? Heh...no, it means I'm sick because I'm anemic and I was too lazy to take my vitamins. Oh... huh... IRON, like IRON?! I thought that's some weird name for patience! I'm such a dummy.. Of course! Iron pills.. Anemia! I hope you feel better soon...
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Post by Ali (lubylover912) on Mar 9, 2007 12:02:50 GMT 10
feel better soon!!! and the second you do update pretty please!
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Post by Melimelo on Mar 9, 2007 14:46:53 GMT 10
Hanging out for an update...hope you won't be long..it's like lining up to use the bathroom. Everyone 's busting to go but you just have to wait until the sign says vacant. Or wet your pants. ;D
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Post by maggie on Mar 9, 2007 16:46:25 GMT 10
Chapter Twenty: Uninvited
Another dusk fell like a blanket as she lay, tangled in her thoughts, in an isolative barricade from him. He’d brought her food, water, tea, anything he could think of, but it lay untouched, and he’d eventually given up and left her to her devices. He knew she would only come to him when she was ready, that he couldn’t push, and so he allowed her the sanctuary of her bedroom, uninterrupted. The silence was both welcome and terrifying, the concept of being alone real for the first time since this thing had come to define her. A hand rested over her belly, as though comforting the newly vacant spot, trying to define what use it was now.
She’d wanted it. Even if it had been under strange circumstance, even if it had kept her irreversibly tied to an inconvenient and unpleasant history, she’d wanted it. For her. For Luka. For their future. A future with a green-painted nursery, a mahogany crib, midnight feedings, sore breasts, miniscule outfits...she had already painted the image in her mind of his large form folded into a chair, cradling the warm little being, whispering in his tongue. His smile had been genuine, eyes full of unconditional affection, and the little being would grow to bound into their bedroom, fling itself atop them, and demand its father fix it breakfast. There would be birthdays with brightly-colored boxes, streamers, a gooey warm cake that didn’t quite look right as she’d tried to prepare it herself, Christmases with the child suspended in the air in its father’s arms, placing the star on the tree as its mother looked on, trips to the beach with brightly colored toys and ruffly swimsuits and sandwiches with the slightest salty flavor...she’d wanted it all. Every last bit of it, cliché, messy, difficult, all of it. She’d wanted them.
A searing pain shot through her as if someone had shoved a hot iron through her naval into her abdomen. She jerked as the throbbing sensation seized her, let out a soft cry. They’d come and gone over the past day, unrelenting reminders of the hell she’d fallen into. The breath she’d drawn in, held, slowly escaped as her muscles relaxed, a tear creeping out the corner of one eye. Ice. She needed ice. Slowly, tentatively, she crawled out of the familiar sanctuary of the warm bed and made her way to the door. It was as though some horrifying beast lay on the other side, prepared to consume her whole the moment she set foot outside.
He was visible from the bottom few steps, though he didn’t seem to notice her presence. Intuitively, she hung back a moment, watching him. He sat on the couch, hunched over, head in hands...and she could see. Crying. He was crying.
Her approach went unnoticed until she stood before him, disheveled, face as somber as he’d ever seen it. Hastily, he tried to wipe the tears away, a futile act more symbolic than anything else. It was her anguish, hers to mourn. Wordlessly, her hand extended to him, a rudimentary offering in their shared grief. He accepted, his arm sliding around her waist as they ambled feebly to the bedroom. She curled into him, the fetal position she assumed cruelly ironic, and yet appropriate. Surrender. Admission that she needed him, his warm form beside her, together. The strong arms she’d denied intoxicating in how badly she craved their offering of solace. Pain had grown exponentially, bottled inside, silent, for as long as she’d stayed hidden from him. Finally she crept up to lay nose-to-nose, eyes fixed on his. “I wanted it, you know. For us.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“You wanted it, too.” It wasn’t a question, merely a harrowing observation to no one in particular.
He answered nonetheless. “Yes.”
“Even if...”
“Even if.” His arms held her closer, fingers traced the length of her spine. More words ached to be set free, but he swallowed them, too much, too soon. How completely he loved her. How she’d have made an incredible mother. How she still could, if she wanted, with him. How he’d love her if she didn’t want to just as much as if she did. How he’d never wish hurt like this upon her, how she didn’t deserve it. In lieu of it all, he simply laid a kiss on her temple, the faintest remnants of tears leaving a salty taste on his lips.
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The doorbell woke them from an exhausted sleep, curled together for protection from whatever demons might try to harm them in their dreams. Luka brushed a few stray hairs from her face. “I’ll get it.”
An odd sensation of dread overcame him before he even touched the handle, but he pulled the door open nonetheless. A fatigued countenance turned to scathing disapproval as Carter gazed at him levelly a moment, then let out a soft snort of disgust. “Why am I not surprised to find you here?”
Luka was a second too late in trying to block him, and the other man pushed past him to make his way into Abby’s apartment. “Carter...” His tone was warning, but unheeded.
“Where is she?” Carter’s eyes, narrowed in ill-feeling, surveyed the apartment...Luka’s sweater, jacket, displaced cushions on the sofa, the crib in the corner. “I came to see Abby. Where is she?” His tone was almost vicious, then, Luka couldn’t entirely blame him given the situation.
Luka made an attempt to usher the intruder towards the door, but was shaken off. “Carter, please...”
She froze in the hallway upon seeing who it was that had broken their silence. Her eyes, shrouded almost entirely by displaced strands of hair, were still visibly terrified. Words were unnecessary. Her eyes fixed on Carters’, unwillingly, and yet unavoidably. The gaze was that of predator and prey, almost, fear meeting fire. It was as though he held her captive, paralyzed with his eyes.
“Abby.” One step towards her was as far as he managed before Luka seized him by the arm and forcibly moved him to the door, shutting both on the outside as the smaller man protested, swung at him, missed. “What the hell do you think -”
“She miscarried.” The words hung in the air, heavy, ominous, like the aftermath of a hurricane.
The rage drained from Carter’s face, replaced by an almost bewildered look. “Oh...God, I didn’t...I wouldn’t have...” He leaned heavily on the opposite wall. “When?”
“Yesterday morning.” Luka had no sympathy left in him for Carter. He felt drained, devoid of any capacity to explain. “Look, I don’t want to get into it now. I need to go back and look after Abby.”
Carter nodded, an almost tangible sense of defeat about him. “Yeah...sure. Go do what you need to. Tell her to call me at home when she’s up to it.” He barely looked at Luka as he retreated down the hallway.
Luka returned to find Abby huddled pitifully on the couch, picking absent-mindedly at the pills on the sofa cushion. “Hey.” He sunk heavily into the seat next to her.
“Hey.” She continued to focus on her extrication of lint as she curled into him. “He’s gone?”
“Yeah. I killed him and threw his body down the garbage chute.”
She couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Thanks.” Her face became serious again, knees drawn close to her chest as her head rested on his lap, a vacant expression on her pale face. “What did he say?”
His fingers ran through her hair, soothing, his other arm draped possessively over her body. “To call him when you’re up to it. That’s all.”
“You told him?” There was no hint of resentment to her question.
“Shortly after he took a swing at me, yes.”
She shifted to look up at him, perplexed. “He tried to hit you?”
“Mmm. Lousy aim.”
“Did you hit him back?” She seemed almost hopeful for a moment, then regretted the question. “Never mind. I didn’t mean that.” She sighed. “Maybe a little.”
He had to smile at her audacity. “You know it’s not his fault, right?”
“I know, but he’s not here. Which makes it awfully easy to blame him.”
“Abby.” Her humor was returning in increments, apparently. Or perhaps just her cynicism. Either way, the shades of her character lifted his own spirits a bit. “Bitterness does not become you.”
She rolled onto her back to look up at him, and he realized he’d mistaken pain for joking. It had fleetingly slipped his mind how stinging Carter’s abandoning her had been...and suddenly, it dawned on him. She expected him to do the same. He’d done it before, though it was mutual in that instance. Maggie, Carter, even Richard, in his way,...and now her child. Each had left her. A wound reopened over and over, rubbed raw with continuous betrayal. She spoke softly, words thick with subliminal truth. “Maybe I want to be bitter. I’m good at it.”
“This was not your fault, Abby.”
She pursed her lips and leaned up, away from him. “That’s very idealistic of you, Luka, but even you know it’s not true. My lifestyle was not what one would call ‘Dr. Spock approved’.”
He shook his head. “Abby, these things happen all the time. The likelihood that you caused this -”
“Is significant. I was drinking lethal amounts of caffeine, on and off the pill, getting maybe five hours of sleep a night, not eating right...Luka, in all honesty, I probably am responsible for miscarrying.” Her voice was icy, but more lively than he’d heard it in a few days. “No, I didn’t know I was pregnant, but it doesn’t change the fact that I put myself and my baby at risk. You can think about this as nature’s little accident if you like, but I’m not going to try and fool myself. I did this. Me.” Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, bottled within for nearly two days, drenching her face with a vengeance. “I am the one at fault, here.”
He sat, staring, in shock for a moment. There was no answer to give, no reasoning to argue her assertion. She was right. He could be idealistic all he wanted, but for what? Only one thing could possibly be said. He leaned forward and held her chin in one hand, kissing her forcefully, almost angrily. When he drew back, it was impossible to tell if the wetness on his face was from her own tears or his. “I love you, Abby.”
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