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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Her immediate reaction is to say no, she'll drive herself, but she thinks better of it and nods. Okay...Thanks.

He looks at her, surprised that she didn't say she was going to drive herself. I know this is...necessary, but I'm going to miss you.

She nods again. I'll miss you too.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He's still having a hard time accepting this isn't his fault. I'm sorry...

She shakes her head, frowning. You don't need to be sorry about this.

I must have done something to make you start drinking again...He won't look at her, thinking it's his failure as a husband that's caused this.

Well, you haven't. She can't say some things he's done has made it any easier for her, but she won't say so to him; this is her problem and she's made enough excuses already.

He doesn't believe her. If I had been here when Lily...if I didn't keep alcohol in the house...have drinks with people and come home to you...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Lee, stop. She shakes her head. This is *my* fault. I did this. Not you.

He nods, not wanting to make matters even worse. Okay...okay.

She nods then sighs, standing up and moving to her dresser, pulling the drawer open and staring at her clothing, not knowing what to pack.

He watches her, wanting to keep her company, to spend as much time with her as he can before she has to leave. Take your warmer pajamas. You know they keep the temperatures low in facilities. He thinks about the fact that his sister always complains about being chilled in the common areas of her residential group.

She nods, pulling out one of the pairs of long pajamas he'd given her for Christmas. She also pulls out a pair of summer pajamas, knowing what's in store while she's going through detox. The thought of it, the memories of the last time she did this, are almost enough to say forget it, but she closes the dresser drawer and stuffs the clothing into the bag he'd gotten out for her.

He waits a beat then pulls the clothing back out, folding it neatly for her. He doesn't know what else to do with himself.

She moves to her closet, pulling out a couple pairs of jeans and some shirts; they go into the bag as well, along with underwear, bras, and socks. She murmurs a quiet "thanks" to him when she sees he's folded the pajamas.

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