Title: Asphyxiation
Author: Kate (kate2130@yahoo.com)
Summary: Abby hears the news about Luka.
Spoilers: What Now? (10.1)
Archive: Sure, just ask first.
"Of all the arrogant, possessive…" She doesn't realize she's muttering aloud until she sees Chuny looking at her with a strange expression on her face. Abby shuts her mouth, not wanting to fuel the hospital gossip mill any more than it already has been. But she continues ranting against Carter in her head. Is she not allowed to be concerned about her coworker, her friend, never mind that he's an ex-boyf—
And Chuny is still looking at her. Fleetingly, the word "choking" seeps its way into Abby's mind. Is Chuny choking? No, of course not. Abby shakes her head, trying to dispel the sudden chill that's come over her. Why did that word suddenly come? A patient, perhaps? She racks her brain, trying to remember. A choking victim? And then she realizes that no one has spoken that word aloud.
She notices, too late, that Chuny is talking. Her mind is still trying to sort out the confusion, and she only hears "…phone call…Luka…sorry…" Luka. He must be back, then. She opens her mouth, and whatever she was going to say is silenced by Chuny, who has needed to repeat herself. And this time all she hears is "dead."
She's been on her way back into the hospital, and it seems that her feet hear and process the news first, as they stop her forward motion so quickly she almost topples. The pain begins in her toes and progresses steadily up her body, settling in her heart for a moment, then continuing upwards. Her hand flies to her mouth as if to stop the involuntary outpouring of grief.
~*~
She can feel them all staring at her. No one dares say anything, save Susan. The other woman's hand on her back burns her. It burns with the reminder of his hand on her back, and she wants it to be his. His hands are so big. Were so big, and the simple change in verb tense invites the dull pain in her heart to begin throbbing again.
It can't be true. Who took the message? The new med student. She could have gotten the name wrong. It could be any doctor. From any hospital, even. But not Luka. Hadn't Carter just said he was "more than fine"? So he can't be gone. Not Luka. Not Luka. It becomes a litany, the closest she's come to prayer since her childhood.
Abby waits for the numbness to come. She's always imagined, when delivering bad news to a patient's family, that immediately after the initial pain a blessed numbness steals over the grieving ones. And now she realizes that's a lie doctors and nurses tell themselves to dispel the guilt. There is no numbness. Only the throbbing pain.
And memories. Unbidden, they come in waves now, even things she's forgotten. The way his fingers curled around hers at night. The American idioms she always suspected he misspoke on purpose. Gentle smiles, touches…If she had known their hug would have been their last, she would have held on for longer. "Take care of yourself," she'd said.
She feels tears prick her eyelids, and she has to stop thinking. Has to stop thinking because it's not true. It can't be. Not Luka. Not Luka. And again it becomes a prayer, a litany, of desperation and disbelief.