I'm technically proficient

...despite certain attitude issues

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I need help [RP for Lee] (spoilers for tonight's ER)
standing in the elevator
lockhart_md
After a strangely jarring conversation with the new hospital chaplain, Abby finds herself taking the elevator upstairs, to the surgical department. Making her way to her husband's office, she waffles outside the door, pacing, stalling.

It's not until she sees one of the surgical nurses casting a curious look in her direction that she knocks softly on the door, then pushes it open. She takes a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair, and lets the door close behind her as she steps into Lee's office.

She begins to speak but has to clear her throat before she tries again.
Hey...how's the leg feeling? She approaches her husband slowly, gesturing to his injured leg.

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You're welcome. She pushes the button for the ground floor and leans against the wall as the door closes. She's clearly distracted, thinking of all she needs to do when they get home, not only calling facilities and getting herself into one, packing, but also getting rid of the alcohol she has in the house.

His own thoughts are similarly occupied. He doesn't know what to really expect when they get home, besides a flurry of activity and possibly a chance to have an honest discussion with Abby before she leaves...for yet another indefinite absense.

As they near their floor, she swallows hard, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. I'm sorry about this...I never wanted this.

He nods, looking down as he clenches and unclenches his hands around the crutches. I don't think anyone ever *wants* it, Abby.

She blinks, not sure what he's implying. I guess not.

He looks up at her then. I know you didn't set out to sabotage yourself, okay?

Or us. Our family. It's important to her that he knows that; it's more important now than herself, alone.

He wants to believe her but can't reconcile the fact that she never wants his help with anything and the words she's saying now. I'm sorry if I did anything to cause this.

You didn't. She assures him quickly; she knows this is her fault and hers alone.

I must have done something if you couldn't talk to me about things. He persists. Why didn't you just tell me things were bad instead of drinking? I don't understand that.

The elevator door opens and she looks at him and shakes her head slightly, not wanting to discuss this while they're walking through the ER.

He understands that their conversation is put on hold for now as he follows her through the ER and out of the hospital.

She relaxes slightly when they walk outside, glad to be away from their coworkers, though she'll wait until they're in the car to continue their conversation.

He's a little slower getting to the car now that he has to deal with the uneven ground outside.

She stays close to him, recognizing his more careful movements, keeping an eye on the patches of ice.

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