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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
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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Don't give up on me? She asks, sincerely needing his support.

Have I ever? He'd do anything for her, even now, if only she'd let him.

She shakes her head in answer. Be here when I get home...Take care of Lily...that's what I need.

Of course I'll be here, I'll take care of Lily. He can't help but be hurt that she'd think he wouldn't do those things.

Her eyes fill again as she nods. I know you will. She hates this, feeling so inadequate and guilty and knowing it will only get worse before it gets better.

He pulls her close again, at a loss as to how he should comfort her. You don't have to worry about us, just do what you have to do, okay?

She leans into him, selfishly taking his comfort at the moment. Okay...It comes out as a whisper.

He presses a kiss to her hair as he echoes her whisper. Okay.

She stays resting against him, wishing that this could be enough, him and Lily and their love, their family. Wishing that she could be strong enough to stop this on her own, for them.

He holds her, his own thoughts mirroring hers though he realizes that he's not qualified to help her battle an addiction, not that this comforts him. He wants to be the one to help her. I'm sorry...for not knowing something was wrong sooner.

She shakes her head against his chest. This isn't your fault, not even close to it.

It's my fault for not saying something when i knew you were drinking. He insists. When you came home from Texas. I thought...I thought you were okay.

So did I. She admits quietly. It's not your fault.

I feel like I should have been able to do something. He hugs her tighter, he knows it's not his fault but that doesn't stop him from feeling like he should protect her, even from herself.

She shakes her head, not knowing how else to tell him the fault is all on her.

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