This is from Luka's POV – hope you enjoy.

Part II – Second Chance

Bleak, it's so bleak and cold outside. The river is grey, the wind biting and harsh. But, the winter always gives way to the spring, and I'm holding her hand . .. . .

It was my routine, work, drink, fast food, TV, sleep, work, drink, fast food, TV, sleep. That night as I flipped the channels the thought I couldn't escape was what a waste it was, what a damn stupid waste of a life. Whose life? Was it the little girl's life, or your own? Good question. I almost didn't hear it, the doorbell. Who? Abby.

She was angry. As angry with me as I've ever seen her which was pretty damn angry.

"That's the most important thing. That you were right." She's crying, Abby's crying. I made her cry, which makes me want to cry. It was a nightmare case, and I'd been cold, not just to Clemente who fucking deserved it, but to her who didn't. Why? Because she didn't choose me, didn't listen to me, . . .. again. She'd chosen the other fucking guy who was an ass, Clemente. Even after that fiasco with the monkey. Damn it, damn it all.

"Keep me out of it" she says. I can't that's the problem Abby don't you see I can't keep you out of it although God help me, I've tried.

Then she's talking about the little girl and how scared she must have been, and I remembered that she knows what it's like to be taken and afraid. Oh hell, how could I have been so caught up in my own crap that I couldn't see through to her? All I wanted to do was stop her pain and let her know, let her know . . . .

I put my hands on her face, her hand reached up to mine. That time I didn't stop myself, I couldn't. All those years of stopping myself but that night I didn't, couldn't. I kissed her hard and then I drank her in. .oh Abby. When I opened my eyes and looked at her, those eyes, those lips, I knew, and I saw in her eyes that she knew too.

"Abby?" She nodded and that was all I needed. I kissed her like a drowning man, and I was.

Seeing her body again, took my breath away. I'd forgotten how damn beautiful she is. I made love to her. I hadn't even realized how robotic sex had become for me. I knew all the "right" things to do, and it didn't matter to me anymore until that night. I wanted to reclaim every inch of her, and I did, every moan every gasp was like a personal victory. I didn't know what to say when it was over except to apologize, so little. But she looked at me, and I knew it was enough. Then she had her turn at reclamation, and it made me smile because I knew it for what it was.

We fell asleep for a time, all tangled up in each other. When I woke, I felt rather than saw her standing there watching me. In my haze I muttered, "Don't leave me" as I reached out for her. "What?" she asked. I was relieved it had come out in Croatian, and I had another chance not to sound so pathetic. "Come to bed" I said and pulled her to me. We made love again; it was like we'd never stopped being lovers. When she fell asleep in my arms, I couldn't sleep. It hurt. Hurt? I was surprised by it. It was like when you have part of you that falls asleep from sitting too long and when you move and the blood flows, it begins to tingle so much it hurts. That's how I felt, like parts of me had gone to sleep, and the waking-up hurt. But sometimes pain is good, and I knew this was the good kind. I held her tighter and in her sleep her arm shifted from my stomach to my neck, like an embrace. It brought tears to my eyes because no one should be without this.

I'd given up. When I went after Alex and Sam on that long drive, I'd decided. I'd had passion, and lost it. Most people don't get one shot at that kind love who was I to think it would be like that again. You take what you get in life and you're grateful for it. People to care about, to come home to, to take care of, that's what life is about, and I'd be lucky to have that. There's lots of ways to love after all. She's not a medical student anymore you know. .. .. . "It suits you." A smile, those eyes looking up at me. Stop it. She hasn't given you one hint since before Carter that you're anything to her but a friend. So, let it go. It's not going to happen, and you can waste your life waiting for it, or you can have something of your own. Make your choice. And, I did. I tried. I did my best. But, I had to shut down parts of myself to do it. Everything has a price.

But, there she was again. She hadn't gone to him; she'd come to me. Maybe there's something more to be had in this life. Maybe there is such a thing as a second chance. Oh Abby. I had been awake for a long time, but I slept then, and had a dream, a beautiful dream of making love to her. In my dream, I reached out and she was there . . .she was there, and I made love to her just like in all the other dreams. . . ..

I'd been dreaming of her off and on for four years. They started in Bosnia, damn funny thing. I'm on the other side of the world, and I can't stop dreaming about her. Funny dreams, sexy dreams sometimes even sad ones. I couldn't explain it to myself not then, not even now. They came and went over the years. But, it wasn't the dreams that were the problem when she was staying with me. It was falling asleep those rare times she wasn't working. Reminded me of dating Danijela, the self-control part I mean. It wouldn't have been right; she needed space, time to heal. Guess I gave her too much space, and I paid the price. The worst was that year she spent with Carter. I'd sleep with someone . . anyone really and dream of her. I'd wake up and not infrequently someone would be there . . but it wasn't her so what did it matter . . what did any of it matter. After the Malaria the dreams didn't come so much. I thought it was a sign. Maybe I wanted it to be a sign. But every now and then, one so real, so vivid came that it shocked me, threw me.

"You were talking in your sleep last night, must have been some dream?" Sam asked one morning.

"What did I say?" Uh-oh.

"Don't know it sounded Croatian."

"Oh"

"So?"

"Don't remember. You need me to drive Alex today?"

That's how the hiding brings the distance. But, how do you tell the truth when the truth can't be told? You're as screwed if you do talk as you are if you don't, maybe more.

I had a dream that night she came to me. And in the dream after we made love, I took her hand, and I fell asleep with her head on my arm. But that time when I woke up, she was in my room if not in my bed. It was a second chance, and I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. It was the first second chance, cause something went wrong that night. It never works when I try to tell her how I feel, it's like it can't be done. I was attempting to tell her how important she is to me. You know, it's not just sex or something, which was a lot more than "nice" by my accounts. Anyway, somehow in the muddle, we walk away "just friends". I didn't even understand how that happened, but it did. So my second, second chance came the night of Neela's reception. The "friends" thing was killing me. It was difficult to be near her, worse to be without her and almost impossible to fall asleep, but the idea of finding release with anyone else was repugnant. I just wanted . . .needed . . a sign, a hint, a clue. Give me something Abby. She did, and this time I didn't waste my time with words. I think two is just about the right number "I do". Seemed to work for her too. And then everything worked. We laughed; we talked; we made love. It was so simple. It seems like a lifetime ago. . . . ..

Today when she told me she was going to Coburn's, I almost thought we were all out of chances. I wanted us to have the baby. I wanted her to want it too . . my baby . . our baby. After my shift, I walked. She'd made her choice. I had choices too. It wasn't as hard as I thought. I knew what my life was like with her, and I knew what my life was like without her. I chose her knowing what it meant, knowing what I was giving up. The only thing left to do was to find her and tell her. So, I did. And, for the third time, I got my second chance, a gift from Abby to herself, to me, to us. Oh Abby.

"