*Bonheur Trompé- Part 8*
by Kelly
Disclaimer: All characters in this story are the property of NBC, Warner Brothers, John Wells, and whoever else. I just borrow them and promise to return them. Don't worry, I won't hurt them. I make no money off these fics, I write them for fun.
The music in this story is "The Burning Red" by Machine Head
Feedback is always appreciated- DougandCarol@hotmail.com
Writer's Notes: Follows Part 7 immediately. Still heavy angst.
Big thanks to Carolina and Shannon who give me great idea's and take a look at these fics before they're done, telling me how I'm doing! Thanks guys!!
Translations:
Hvala Bogu- Thank God
Abby, Je te cuti njemu? dijete je u redu.- Abby, did you hear him? The baby is ok.
Abby, Ja sam na taj nacin alostan JA ondje. Taj covjek, Ja htijenje nalaz njemu. policija, oni htijenje nalaz njemu. Mi cemo imati njemu uhititi, on ne zasluiti biti slobodan.- Abby, I am so sorry I wasn't there. That man, I will find him. The police, they will find him. We will have him arrested, he does not deserve to be free.
+++++++++++++
I see the sun begin to rise
And I'm wounded I've seen the world from painted eyes
That I'm crying through I watch the darkness hit the tides
And confide in... Hold On
++++++++++++++++
The IV dripped slowly, down from the bag, through the tubing. Slow, slow, slower into her arm, through the needle taped to her skin. The clear fluid running through her body, keeping her hydrated. Her hands were like ice as she lay there, still sleeping. He had both of his hand wrapped firmly around her unbroken left hand, holding it tight, as if he wouldn't, she would disappear. The fetal monitor continued to beep dully, and he listened to it each time. Beep… beep. beep… over and over, the paper from it slowly feeding to the floor.
The light from the hallway shone into the dark room, Luka making sure the lights were kept off, he wasn't in the mood for them to be on. His head was set on the bed, next to her bruised body. His eyes were staring into the darkness, his mind off in a place far away, away from the next chapter of shit he didn't need in his life.
"Dr. Kovac?" a voice called through the darkness, the sound of a cart being rolled into the room. "Dr. Kovac?"
The voice called him from his daydream, and he lifted his head, peering over Abby's extended stomach. "Yes?" he asked, the sound of anger, exhaustion, and sadness a mixture in his voice.
"I'm Dr. Vetter." The man introduced himself. "I've got to do an ultrasound, see how the baby looks." He said, wheeling the cart closer to the bed. Luka didn't respond, he just held Abby's hand tighter, and looked at her face. The swelling was much more profound now, her eye was a dark purple color; the cuts on her face covered her forehead and cheeks. Bruises on her nose, by her other eye.
As the doctor lifted her gown to her chest, Luka swallowed, taking a look at her stomach. As with her arms, there were two more cigarette burns, and a large bruise. Abby had said the man had punched her stomach, but Luka had no idea how hard he actually had. He bit his lip as the monitor was turned on, and the doctor fiddled with the settings.
"Abby…" Luka whispered, watching as the screen lit up. The gray white and black flood the screen, looking like rippled waves until the form of the baby was clear.
"Good presentation." Dr. Vetter whispered, moving the probe around her stomach.
"Did that bastard hurt the baby?" Luka asked, turning his head back and forth from the screen to Abby.
"Everything looks ok." He replied, turning the screen. "The head, arms, legs.." he said, pointing the features out. "There's a normal amount of amniotic fluid, and the heart rate is strong."
Luka just nodded, as the screen went dark and Abby's stomach was wiped clean. Squeezing Abby's hand tight, he moved closer to her face, watching as she continued to sleep. "Hvala Bogu." He whispered. "Abby, je te èuti njemu? dijete je u redu." He spoke in Croatian. He knew Abby wouldn't understand, but it made him feel safe speaking in a language no one around him could understand.
"We're going to keep the fetal monitor on until she's released, but everything looks good." Dr. Vetter assured Luka.
"Thank you." Luka said in a voice with absolutely no emotion. He didn't feel like speaking with anyone, doctors, nurses, anyone. He wanted to be alone with Abby. He wanted to find out what the man had looked like, he wanted to find him, cause him the pain he deserved.
"Abby, Ja sam na taj naèin žalostan JA ondje. Taj èovjek, JA htijenje nalaz njemu. policija, oni htijenje nalaz njemu. Mi æemo imati njemu uhititi, on ne zaslužiti biti slobodan." He whispered.
His body was at the point where he wanted to explode. His emotions were running harder and faster than they had in years. He wanted to scream, run and find the man who hurt Abby. He wanted to pin him against a wall and hit him, punch him, make him bleed and suffer. He wanted to break down and cry. Looking at Abby was almost unbearable. The bruises, the cuts, the burns, knowing she had been raped, knowing that she had done everything she had done to stop it. He could just imagine in his head, hearing the screams of her saying to stop, to leave the baby alone, to leave her alone.
He took his hand and began to brush the few strands of hair from her face, being careful not to hit a bruise. As he did, he swallowed again, staring at the damage that had been done….
+++++++++++
I'm falling
Can't breathe anymore
The ocean has opened
These scars need to heal
Caress the needle prick in my eye
++++++++++++
The tea kettle sat on the stove; the heat turned high, slowly causing the water to boil. The steam had begun to rise, the bubbling began.
"Are you sure you haven't found anyone matching the description yet?" Luka asked, standing near the refrigerator nearly a week later. Looking out the window, he saw the piles of snow pushed up against the fence, pushed by the wind.
He sighed, listening as the detective on the other end of the phone spoke. His eyes turned to the hallway outside the doorway, where he could hear footsteps shuffling down on the carpet.
"Are you even trying to find this man?" he asked angrily, his voice rising. "He raped my wife and all you say is you are looking? How many people are looking?"
He could feel his blood pressure rising as the conversation went on, he was getting more and more annoyed by the minute. The wind howled outside, the sky darker than it had been just a few minutes earlier. It was due to snow again, possibly another foot.
"I want him found and put away for the rest of his life!" Luka growled. "If I ever see that man free when he is caught, I will be the next man you are looking for." He said, before hanging the phone up.
Dumping the few dirty dishes in the sink into the dishwasher, he slammed the door and started up the stairway, looking into the living room as he went. Dirty laundry sat on the couch, waiting to be thrown in a laundry basket and into the washing machine.
"Abby?" he called, pushing the bedroom door open. He found her sitting in their bed, staring out the window at the snow that was falling. "Abby?" he called again.
She didn't answer, she just turned her head to watch him, watch him as he walked toward her. Her hair was a mess; it hadn't been brushed since she left the hospital. She was dressed in a large pair of Luka's sweat pants and a maternity sweatshirt that was stained with her tears and blood. One of the wounds on her arm had opened and begun to bleed the night before. Not caring, she had allowed the blood to seep into the shirt, staining it permanently.
"Do you need anything?" he asked gently, taking a seat on the bed next to her. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, but knew he couldn't. Anytime his hands went near her she pushed them away, turning her head. "You should eat something."
"No." she mumbled, never turning her focus from the window. "I'm not hungry."
"You haven't eaten all day." Luka replied, his tone much gentler with her than it had been only moments earlier on the phone. "You need something."
Abby didn't answer; she just turned her head slightly to look at him. She wore a look of unhappiness, of defeat. Her eyes had lost the sparkle they use to have. Two beautiful, dark, sparkling eyes that had been there only weeks earlier had been left two empty holes.
"Please Abby." He begged, moving his arm slow and carefully over to her hand. He touched it with his own, and she immediately pulled away.
"Go away Luka." she said, turning away again. "Go away."
"I can't go away." He replied, picking a towel up off of the floor. "Abby, please."
"I said go away."
"You need to eat. For you…. And the baby."
"Go away."
++++++++++++
The tears fell like rain
I've rode the phoenix as she glides
And I've gone insane I've seen the light of suicide
And I'm dying Hold on,
++++++++++++
"Go home, I'll get Dr. Malucci or Dr. Finch to cover for you." Mark said early that evening a few days later.
"No, I can stay." Luka replied, carrying an armload of charts. "They have already covered for me too many times."
Mark shook his head. "No, go home." He ordered. "I know Abby isn't talking much, and she won't let you touch her. But both you and I know that you being there will help her heal faster."
"How is Abby doing?" Deb asked, walking up to the admit area.
Luka sighed, shutting his eyes tight, placing the charts down on the counter. As soon as he did, he could see her. Laying in their bed, wrapped in a blanket, the dark bags under her eyes, staring out the window. It was all she did, looked out the window, and took showers. In the time before he had gone to work she had taken 4, each time bringing a new bar of soap with her. Each time, after emerging, the entire bar was gone.
"She is doing ok." Luka lied, pulling his stethoscope from around his neck. "I am going to go home." He said. "Are you sure you do not mind covering?"
"Go." Mark replied. "We've got it."
Nodding silently, Luka made his way to the lounge where he pulled his coat on and slammed his locker shut. As he escaped from the confining area of the hospital, he took a deep breathe of the late December air. He watched his breathe as it escaped from his mouth in a large puff of smoke and began to walk. Down the path, up the stairs, onto the El train. He didn't bother sitting, he just grabbed hold on a pole and waited for the train to start.
Watching the city go-bye, the anger again began to build. He watched as many happy couples went by, their arms full of shopping bags, full of Christmas presents. There were little children with their parents, shrieking with delight as they pointed out Christmas decorations, or toys they wanted in store windows.
When he reached his stop, he got off the train quickly and started jogging quickly toward the building. The patter of his hard soled shoes hit the pavement with great force, pat, pat, pat, pat…….
The warm heated air hit him as he stepped inside, catching his breath as he looked around. The main room was packed with many people. Some teenagers, many homeless people, everyone looked ticked off at the world. Walking toward the counter that sat near the far end, Luka pulled his jacket closed around him.
"I need to speak with Sergeant Billings." Luka said, staring at the small woman that sat behind the counter, a cup of coffee in one hand, a pencil in the other.
"He's busy right now. You can take a seat over there." She instructed him, pointing toward a bench already occupied by a woman who appeared to be a hooker.
"No, I need to speak with him now!" Luka replied, his voice growing, the anger becoming apparent.
"I'm sorry sir, but you'll have to wait."
"I am sick of waiting! Wait for him, wait for her, wait for us to find the man who did this, wait for us to find him, do not go looking yourself, I will not wait anymore!" he said, smashing his fist on the counter top. The anger in his eyes was now apparent, as he leaned toward her.
"Just… hold on a minute." She mumbled, standing up and walking toward the back through a doorway.
As she did, Luka looked up to meet the gaze of an older woman who was staring at him, her eyes wide, as if she were shocked at his sudden outburst. He just watched her for a moment, the anger burning at his heart, up his throat. His chest hurt with the anger that built, pressing on him like a weight.
"What?" he snapped, the old woman's face fell, and she quickly turned away.
"Dr. Kovac." A voice called, his voice sounded as if he were almost expecting him, and in no mood to see him. The man walked over to him, his hand settling on the counter top. "I thought we spoke earlier.'
"We did." Luka replied, the weight still in his chest, his voice raspy and mean. "But I thought possibly you had found him."
"Dr. Kovac, as I said before, when we find the man, or even a suspect, we will call you right away." The police officer replied. "I know how difficult these past 2 weeks have been, but we're doing everything we can."
"If you were doing everything you could, you would have found the son of a bitch." Luka shot back, feeling ready to hit something, or someone.
"Dr. Kovac. This is Chicago. There are hundreds of crimes committed every week. We cannot possibly keep all of our officers out there looking for one man. I told you earlier, and yesterday, and the day before that. We have sent out warnings, posted the mans description and we are on 24 hour alert. Now I'm sorry, but that is all we can do for now"
"If this were your wife, you would have every cop in this city out there trying to find the man who hurt her." Luka replied, squeezing his palm inside of his coat pocket. "But my wife, it is not as important right?"
"We'll call as soon as we hear anything." He replied, starting to walk away. "I am sorry about your wife, and we're trying to find the man who did this, I promise you."
"Yeah, ok." Was all Luka said, turning away. "I'll find the man myself and take care of him if I need to."
++++++++++++++
I'm falling
Can't breathe anymore
And the Ocean has opened
These Scars need to heal
Hold on I'm falling, can't reach... reach...
++++++++++++++
"Away in a manger, no crib for a bed…."
The fire crackled in the fireplace, sending ashes through the chimney, and out over the screen onto the carpet. The smell of the fire could be smelled throughout the first floor, it made the house seem cozier than it was… like a house you'd see in a children's book. Where the family lives happily-ever-after in the forest drinking cocoa.
Christmas lights were glittering as the plug was fed to the socket, lighting them, making them twinkle on the floor where they were rolled in a huge knot. Next to them sat a large box of ornaments, along with strands of garland thrown about.
Before long, the strands of lights were strung around the tall tree, lighting the room full of color. They twinkled in the dim light, reflecting off of the TV screen and glass doors on the entertainment center.
"How do they look?" Luka asked, taking a step back from the tree to look at them.
Abby sat on the nearby couch, her legs covered by a thick, dark blue blanket. Behind her was a bulky pillow, her back pressed against it. Without a word, she just nodded, shifting her position with a small groan.
"Is that a yes?" Luka asked, watching her, flashing her a small grin. "Come on, come and help me hang some of the ornaments."
He reached into the box and pulled out a small green, glass blown ornament and hung it on a nearby branch. Reaching for another, he pulled out a glass ball, tinted a red color, with a silver inscription on the side.
"Here Abby." He said, moving closer to her, offering her the ornament. He read the side as he handed it away, the inscription reading Abby's 1st Christmas- December 25, 1971.
She took it into her hands and didn't even glance at her. Her eyes were fixated on the glimmering tree lights; she was again in a daze.
"Abby?" he said, attempting to grab her attention.
She again ignored him; he could see the tint of a red bulb tinted in her eye. She dropped the ornament into her lap, the blanket catching it, keeping it from shattering.
"Abby?"
"The star was always Eric's job." She whispered, her left hand fumbling with the ends of the blanket, rubbing it through her fingers.
Luka nodded, watching as she opened her mouth to speak again. Her lips were chapped, cracked open and the bottom was bleeding. He waited for her to continue, that one sentence had been more than she had said in 3 weeks.
"When we were really little, we would make ornaments at school." She continued. "But the tree was always really small." She mumbled.
"You made ornaments?" Luka asked, grinning.
"One year I got this stuffed dog…" she continued to mumble. "He was brown with a white patch… I named him Frankie."
Luka nodded again, watching as she continued to stare at the tree lights. Her face was even sadder than it had been; her hand was gripping tightly to the blanket, squeezing it, biting her lower lip.
"Do you still have the dog?" he asked quietly, attempting to become involved in the conversation she was mumbling to herself.
"Maggie never liked Christmas….. she always stayed in her room. When I was little, I always cried because Santa never came to my house, I thought he hated me. All the other kids got presents from Santa, got to sit in his lap in the mall.. I never got that. Eric cried so hard one year I had to tell him that Santa did come, that he came down the chimney but remembered that he forgot to feed his reindeer. And he bought it… he stopped crying and said that if the reindeer were hungry they needed food, he didn't need presents."
Luka swallowed, he was afraid to respond now. If he spoke, he was afraid she would stop talking; he wanted to hear her voice. He just watched her as her face remained in the icy, sad state, she was still in that daze, as if Luka weren't there at all.
Suddenly her body grew stiff, her voice became ragged, as if her throat were closing up. A look of pure terror washed over her face, her grip on the blanket became so hard her hand was turning a sickly shade of white.
"That night.." she stuttered, her eyes growing wide. "I was at the light… the radio was on."
"Wait.." Luka began, as she continued.
"I just closed my eyes for a second, my back hurt.. I was tired.."
"Abby…" he said, moving closer to her. "Abby, you don't have to.."
"There was a pounding sound, and then he opened the door." She struggled to get out, coughing as she continued. "He grabbed my arms…. And he pulled me out of the car."
"It's ok Abby. You don't have to tell me." Luka said, pulling himself up onto the couch, knocking a strand of garland to the floor.
"It was so dark… there was an alley.." she mumbled. "He pulled me in the building.. and he took his clothes off."
Luka stared hard at her, as her eyes turned glassy, the wrinkles in her forehead scrunching, as if she were thinking deeply. She took a deep breath; he watched her swallow hard, still staring into the tree.
"He hit me, and he pulled off my shirt……" she struggled to say, as she began to gasp for air. "He hit the baby, and my face….. and then he grabbed my pants and tugged them off."
"Abby, it's ok." Luka comforted her. "Abby."
The Christmas lights continued to twinkle brightly, the music playing softly from the radio on the end table. The dull humming filled the room, as the colored lights danced on the walls.
"Then he hit me again.. and he burned me."
She started couching again, her face growing red as the glittery look in her eyes continued to build. He watched as her arm began to shake slowly, she started gasping for air.
"He got on top of me….. and he pushed himself inside of me." She cried, as the glittery look in her eyes became too much, and the tears fell over, rushing down her face like a small stream. "He did it again.. and again." As those words left her lips, it all became too much and she started sobbing uncontrollably. Her body shook; her eyes fluttered shut, and then open again.
"Shh… Abby." Luka comforted her, afraid to reach out to her. Slowly, he moved his arm toward her and began wrapping it around her shoulder, and in response, she immediately pushed him away.
"He raped me… and I didn't stop him. I said no but I should have tried harder…." She cried, rocking back and forth on the couch, her hair falling in front of her eyes. "If I had hit him harder, or kicked him a little more.."
"Abby, look at me." Luka ordered, taking her shoulders under his firm hands and waiting for her face to turn.
"Don't touch me!" she cried, pushing him away, pushing herself further into the arm of the couch. "Leave me alone!" she sobbed, the tears falling onto the blanket, the ornament once in her lap now lay on the carpet, where it had rolled only moments earlier.
"Abby, I am not going to hurt you." Luka said gently, attempting to move closer again. "I would never hurt you."
"He raped me." She sobbed again, burying her face in the arm of the dark couch, muffling her sobs.
Luka watched her body shake, heard her constant gasps for fresh air, the coughing as she cried.
"Abby, please.." he begged, touching her back with his index finger, then his pinkie. He moved himself a few inches closer, resting his entire hand lightly on her back. "Let me help you Abby."
He waited a moment for her response, waited as her body shook again; she choked on her own phlegm, taking in another breath. His hand remained on her back, waiting for her to scream to move it, to stop touching her. But she didn't. her head rose slowly from the couch arm, covered in her own tears, her eyes a deep red, matching her face. She watched him for a second, gasping for more air.
"Please Abby." He begged again.
And the twinkling Christmas lights went dead.
+++++++++++
I'm falling
Can't breathe anymore
And the Ocean has opened
These Scars need to heal
Hold on I'm falling, can't reach... reach...
Colder and colder Just hold onto me
+++++++++++
05/10/01
by Kelly
Disclaimer: All characters in this story are the property of NBC, Warner Brothers, John Wells, and whoever else. I just borrow them and promise to return them. Don't worry, I won't hurt them. I make no money off these fics, I write them for fun.
The music in this story is "The Burning Red" by Machine Head
Feedback is always appreciated- DougandCarol@hotmail.com
Writer's Notes: Follows Part 7 immediately. Still heavy angst.
Big thanks to Carolina and Shannon who give me great idea's and take a look at these fics before they're done, telling me how I'm doing! Thanks guys!!
Translations:
Hvala Bogu- Thank God
Abby, Je te cuti njemu? dijete je u redu.- Abby, did you hear him? The baby is ok.
Abby, Ja sam na taj nacin alostan JA ondje. Taj covjek, Ja htijenje nalaz njemu. policija, oni htijenje nalaz njemu. Mi cemo imati njemu uhititi, on ne zasluiti biti slobodan.- Abby, I am so sorry I wasn't there. That man, I will find him. The police, they will find him. We will have him arrested, he does not deserve to be free.
+++++++++++++
I see the sun begin to rise
And I'm wounded I've seen the world from painted eyes
That I'm crying through I watch the darkness hit the tides
And confide in... Hold On
++++++++++++++++
The IV dripped slowly, down from the bag, through the tubing. Slow, slow, slower into her arm, through the needle taped to her skin. The clear fluid running through her body, keeping her hydrated. Her hands were like ice as she lay there, still sleeping. He had both of his hand wrapped firmly around her unbroken left hand, holding it tight, as if he wouldn't, she would disappear. The fetal monitor continued to beep dully, and he listened to it each time. Beep… beep. beep… over and over, the paper from it slowly feeding to the floor.
The light from the hallway shone into the dark room, Luka making sure the lights were kept off, he wasn't in the mood for them to be on. His head was set on the bed, next to her bruised body. His eyes were staring into the darkness, his mind off in a place far away, away from the next chapter of shit he didn't need in his life.
"Dr. Kovac?" a voice called through the darkness, the sound of a cart being rolled into the room. "Dr. Kovac?"
The voice called him from his daydream, and he lifted his head, peering over Abby's extended stomach. "Yes?" he asked, the sound of anger, exhaustion, and sadness a mixture in his voice.
"I'm Dr. Vetter." The man introduced himself. "I've got to do an ultrasound, see how the baby looks." He said, wheeling the cart closer to the bed. Luka didn't respond, he just held Abby's hand tighter, and looked at her face. The swelling was much more profound now, her eye was a dark purple color; the cuts on her face covered her forehead and cheeks. Bruises on her nose, by her other eye.
As the doctor lifted her gown to her chest, Luka swallowed, taking a look at her stomach. As with her arms, there were two more cigarette burns, and a large bruise. Abby had said the man had punched her stomach, but Luka had no idea how hard he actually had. He bit his lip as the monitor was turned on, and the doctor fiddled with the settings.
"Abby…" Luka whispered, watching as the screen lit up. The gray white and black flood the screen, looking like rippled waves until the form of the baby was clear.
"Good presentation." Dr. Vetter whispered, moving the probe around her stomach.
"Did that bastard hurt the baby?" Luka asked, turning his head back and forth from the screen to Abby.
"Everything looks ok." He replied, turning the screen. "The head, arms, legs.." he said, pointing the features out. "There's a normal amount of amniotic fluid, and the heart rate is strong."
Luka just nodded, as the screen went dark and Abby's stomach was wiped clean. Squeezing Abby's hand tight, he moved closer to her face, watching as she continued to sleep. "Hvala Bogu." He whispered. "Abby, je te èuti njemu? dijete je u redu." He spoke in Croatian. He knew Abby wouldn't understand, but it made him feel safe speaking in a language no one around him could understand.
"We're going to keep the fetal monitor on until she's released, but everything looks good." Dr. Vetter assured Luka.
"Thank you." Luka said in a voice with absolutely no emotion. He didn't feel like speaking with anyone, doctors, nurses, anyone. He wanted to be alone with Abby. He wanted to find out what the man had looked like, he wanted to find him, cause him the pain he deserved.
"Abby, Ja sam na taj naèin žalostan JA ondje. Taj èovjek, JA htijenje nalaz njemu. policija, oni htijenje nalaz njemu. Mi æemo imati njemu uhititi, on ne zaslužiti biti slobodan." He whispered.
His body was at the point where he wanted to explode. His emotions were running harder and faster than they had in years. He wanted to scream, run and find the man who hurt Abby. He wanted to pin him against a wall and hit him, punch him, make him bleed and suffer. He wanted to break down and cry. Looking at Abby was almost unbearable. The bruises, the cuts, the burns, knowing she had been raped, knowing that she had done everything she had done to stop it. He could just imagine in his head, hearing the screams of her saying to stop, to leave the baby alone, to leave her alone.
He took his hand and began to brush the few strands of hair from her face, being careful not to hit a bruise. As he did, he swallowed again, staring at the damage that had been done….
+++++++++++
I'm falling
Can't breathe anymore
The ocean has opened
These scars need to heal
Caress the needle prick in my eye
++++++++++++
The tea kettle sat on the stove; the heat turned high, slowly causing the water to boil. The steam had begun to rise, the bubbling began.
"Are you sure you haven't found anyone matching the description yet?" Luka asked, standing near the refrigerator nearly a week later. Looking out the window, he saw the piles of snow pushed up against the fence, pushed by the wind.
He sighed, listening as the detective on the other end of the phone spoke. His eyes turned to the hallway outside the doorway, where he could hear footsteps shuffling down on the carpet.
"Are you even trying to find this man?" he asked angrily, his voice rising. "He raped my wife and all you say is you are looking? How many people are looking?"
He could feel his blood pressure rising as the conversation went on, he was getting more and more annoyed by the minute. The wind howled outside, the sky darker than it had been just a few minutes earlier. It was due to snow again, possibly another foot.
"I want him found and put away for the rest of his life!" Luka growled. "If I ever see that man free when he is caught, I will be the next man you are looking for." He said, before hanging the phone up.
Dumping the few dirty dishes in the sink into the dishwasher, he slammed the door and started up the stairway, looking into the living room as he went. Dirty laundry sat on the couch, waiting to be thrown in a laundry basket and into the washing machine.
"Abby?" he called, pushing the bedroom door open. He found her sitting in their bed, staring out the window at the snow that was falling. "Abby?" he called again.
She didn't answer, she just turned her head to watch him, watch him as he walked toward her. Her hair was a mess; it hadn't been brushed since she left the hospital. She was dressed in a large pair of Luka's sweat pants and a maternity sweatshirt that was stained with her tears and blood. One of the wounds on her arm had opened and begun to bleed the night before. Not caring, she had allowed the blood to seep into the shirt, staining it permanently.
"Do you need anything?" he asked gently, taking a seat on the bed next to her. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, but knew he couldn't. Anytime his hands went near her she pushed them away, turning her head. "You should eat something."
"No." she mumbled, never turning her focus from the window. "I'm not hungry."
"You haven't eaten all day." Luka replied, his tone much gentler with her than it had been only moments earlier on the phone. "You need something."
Abby didn't answer; she just turned her head slightly to look at him. She wore a look of unhappiness, of defeat. Her eyes had lost the sparkle they use to have. Two beautiful, dark, sparkling eyes that had been there only weeks earlier had been left two empty holes.
"Please Abby." He begged, moving his arm slow and carefully over to her hand. He touched it with his own, and she immediately pulled away.
"Go away Luka." she said, turning away again. "Go away."
"I can't go away." He replied, picking a towel up off of the floor. "Abby, please."
"I said go away."
"You need to eat. For you…. And the baby."
"Go away."
++++++++++++
The tears fell like rain
I've rode the phoenix as she glides
And I've gone insane I've seen the light of suicide
And I'm dying Hold on,
++++++++++++
"Go home, I'll get Dr. Malucci or Dr. Finch to cover for you." Mark said early that evening a few days later.
"No, I can stay." Luka replied, carrying an armload of charts. "They have already covered for me too many times."
Mark shook his head. "No, go home." He ordered. "I know Abby isn't talking much, and she won't let you touch her. But both you and I know that you being there will help her heal faster."
"How is Abby doing?" Deb asked, walking up to the admit area.
Luka sighed, shutting his eyes tight, placing the charts down on the counter. As soon as he did, he could see her. Laying in their bed, wrapped in a blanket, the dark bags under her eyes, staring out the window. It was all she did, looked out the window, and took showers. In the time before he had gone to work she had taken 4, each time bringing a new bar of soap with her. Each time, after emerging, the entire bar was gone.
"She is doing ok." Luka lied, pulling his stethoscope from around his neck. "I am going to go home." He said. "Are you sure you do not mind covering?"
"Go." Mark replied. "We've got it."
Nodding silently, Luka made his way to the lounge where he pulled his coat on and slammed his locker shut. As he escaped from the confining area of the hospital, he took a deep breathe of the late December air. He watched his breathe as it escaped from his mouth in a large puff of smoke and began to walk. Down the path, up the stairs, onto the El train. He didn't bother sitting, he just grabbed hold on a pole and waited for the train to start.
Watching the city go-bye, the anger again began to build. He watched as many happy couples went by, their arms full of shopping bags, full of Christmas presents. There were little children with their parents, shrieking with delight as they pointed out Christmas decorations, or toys they wanted in store windows.
When he reached his stop, he got off the train quickly and started jogging quickly toward the building. The patter of his hard soled shoes hit the pavement with great force, pat, pat, pat, pat…….
The warm heated air hit him as he stepped inside, catching his breath as he looked around. The main room was packed with many people. Some teenagers, many homeless people, everyone looked ticked off at the world. Walking toward the counter that sat near the far end, Luka pulled his jacket closed around him.
"I need to speak with Sergeant Billings." Luka said, staring at the small woman that sat behind the counter, a cup of coffee in one hand, a pencil in the other.
"He's busy right now. You can take a seat over there." She instructed him, pointing toward a bench already occupied by a woman who appeared to be a hooker.
"No, I need to speak with him now!" Luka replied, his voice growing, the anger becoming apparent.
"I'm sorry sir, but you'll have to wait."
"I am sick of waiting! Wait for him, wait for her, wait for us to find the man who did this, wait for us to find him, do not go looking yourself, I will not wait anymore!" he said, smashing his fist on the counter top. The anger in his eyes was now apparent, as he leaned toward her.
"Just… hold on a minute." She mumbled, standing up and walking toward the back through a doorway.
As she did, Luka looked up to meet the gaze of an older woman who was staring at him, her eyes wide, as if she were shocked at his sudden outburst. He just watched her for a moment, the anger burning at his heart, up his throat. His chest hurt with the anger that built, pressing on him like a weight.
"What?" he snapped, the old woman's face fell, and she quickly turned away.
"Dr. Kovac." A voice called, his voice sounded as if he were almost expecting him, and in no mood to see him. The man walked over to him, his hand settling on the counter top. "I thought we spoke earlier.'
"We did." Luka replied, the weight still in his chest, his voice raspy and mean. "But I thought possibly you had found him."
"Dr. Kovac, as I said before, when we find the man, or even a suspect, we will call you right away." The police officer replied. "I know how difficult these past 2 weeks have been, but we're doing everything we can."
"If you were doing everything you could, you would have found the son of a bitch." Luka shot back, feeling ready to hit something, or someone.
"Dr. Kovac. This is Chicago. There are hundreds of crimes committed every week. We cannot possibly keep all of our officers out there looking for one man. I told you earlier, and yesterday, and the day before that. We have sent out warnings, posted the mans description and we are on 24 hour alert. Now I'm sorry, but that is all we can do for now"
"If this were your wife, you would have every cop in this city out there trying to find the man who hurt her." Luka replied, squeezing his palm inside of his coat pocket. "But my wife, it is not as important right?"
"We'll call as soon as we hear anything." He replied, starting to walk away. "I am sorry about your wife, and we're trying to find the man who did this, I promise you."
"Yeah, ok." Was all Luka said, turning away. "I'll find the man myself and take care of him if I need to."
++++++++++++++
I'm falling
Can't breathe anymore
And the Ocean has opened
These Scars need to heal
Hold on I'm falling, can't reach... reach...
++++++++++++++
"Away in a manger, no crib for a bed…."
The fire crackled in the fireplace, sending ashes through the chimney, and out over the screen onto the carpet. The smell of the fire could be smelled throughout the first floor, it made the house seem cozier than it was… like a house you'd see in a children's book. Where the family lives happily-ever-after in the forest drinking cocoa.
Christmas lights were glittering as the plug was fed to the socket, lighting them, making them twinkle on the floor where they were rolled in a huge knot. Next to them sat a large box of ornaments, along with strands of garland thrown about.
Before long, the strands of lights were strung around the tall tree, lighting the room full of color. They twinkled in the dim light, reflecting off of the TV screen and glass doors on the entertainment center.
"How do they look?" Luka asked, taking a step back from the tree to look at them.
Abby sat on the nearby couch, her legs covered by a thick, dark blue blanket. Behind her was a bulky pillow, her back pressed against it. Without a word, she just nodded, shifting her position with a small groan.
"Is that a yes?" Luka asked, watching her, flashing her a small grin. "Come on, come and help me hang some of the ornaments."
He reached into the box and pulled out a small green, glass blown ornament and hung it on a nearby branch. Reaching for another, he pulled out a glass ball, tinted a red color, with a silver inscription on the side.
"Here Abby." He said, moving closer to her, offering her the ornament. He read the side as he handed it away, the inscription reading Abby's 1st Christmas- December 25, 1971.
She took it into her hands and didn't even glance at her. Her eyes were fixated on the glimmering tree lights; she was again in a daze.
"Abby?" he said, attempting to grab her attention.
She again ignored him; he could see the tint of a red bulb tinted in her eye. She dropped the ornament into her lap, the blanket catching it, keeping it from shattering.
"Abby?"
"The star was always Eric's job." She whispered, her left hand fumbling with the ends of the blanket, rubbing it through her fingers.
Luka nodded, watching as she opened her mouth to speak again. Her lips were chapped, cracked open and the bottom was bleeding. He waited for her to continue, that one sentence had been more than she had said in 3 weeks.
"When we were really little, we would make ornaments at school." She continued. "But the tree was always really small." She mumbled.
"You made ornaments?" Luka asked, grinning.
"One year I got this stuffed dog…" she continued to mumble. "He was brown with a white patch… I named him Frankie."
Luka nodded again, watching as she continued to stare at the tree lights. Her face was even sadder than it had been; her hand was gripping tightly to the blanket, squeezing it, biting her lower lip.
"Do you still have the dog?" he asked quietly, attempting to become involved in the conversation she was mumbling to herself.
"Maggie never liked Christmas….. she always stayed in her room. When I was little, I always cried because Santa never came to my house, I thought he hated me. All the other kids got presents from Santa, got to sit in his lap in the mall.. I never got that. Eric cried so hard one year I had to tell him that Santa did come, that he came down the chimney but remembered that he forgot to feed his reindeer. And he bought it… he stopped crying and said that if the reindeer were hungry they needed food, he didn't need presents."
Luka swallowed, he was afraid to respond now. If he spoke, he was afraid she would stop talking; he wanted to hear her voice. He just watched her as her face remained in the icy, sad state, she was still in that daze, as if Luka weren't there at all.
Suddenly her body grew stiff, her voice became ragged, as if her throat were closing up. A look of pure terror washed over her face, her grip on the blanket became so hard her hand was turning a sickly shade of white.
"That night.." she stuttered, her eyes growing wide. "I was at the light… the radio was on."
"Wait.." Luka began, as she continued.
"I just closed my eyes for a second, my back hurt.. I was tired.."
"Abby…" he said, moving closer to her. "Abby, you don't have to.."
"There was a pounding sound, and then he opened the door." She struggled to get out, coughing as she continued. "He grabbed my arms…. And he pulled me out of the car."
"It's ok Abby. You don't have to tell me." Luka said, pulling himself up onto the couch, knocking a strand of garland to the floor.
"It was so dark… there was an alley.." she mumbled. "He pulled me in the building.. and he took his clothes off."
Luka stared hard at her, as her eyes turned glassy, the wrinkles in her forehead scrunching, as if she were thinking deeply. She took a deep breath; he watched her swallow hard, still staring into the tree.
"He hit me, and he pulled off my shirt……" she struggled to say, as she began to gasp for air. "He hit the baby, and my face….. and then he grabbed my pants and tugged them off."
"Abby, it's ok." Luka comforted her. "Abby."
The Christmas lights continued to twinkle brightly, the music playing softly from the radio on the end table. The dull humming filled the room, as the colored lights danced on the walls.
"Then he hit me again.. and he burned me."
She started couching again, her face growing red as the glittery look in her eyes continued to build. He watched as her arm began to shake slowly, she started gasping for air.
"He got on top of me….. and he pushed himself inside of me." She cried, as the glittery look in her eyes became too much, and the tears fell over, rushing down her face like a small stream. "He did it again.. and again." As those words left her lips, it all became too much and she started sobbing uncontrollably. Her body shook; her eyes fluttered shut, and then open again.
"Shh… Abby." Luka comforted her, afraid to reach out to her. Slowly, he moved his arm toward her and began wrapping it around her shoulder, and in response, she immediately pushed him away.
"He raped me… and I didn't stop him. I said no but I should have tried harder…." She cried, rocking back and forth on the couch, her hair falling in front of her eyes. "If I had hit him harder, or kicked him a little more.."
"Abby, look at me." Luka ordered, taking her shoulders under his firm hands and waiting for her face to turn.
"Don't touch me!" she cried, pushing him away, pushing herself further into the arm of the couch. "Leave me alone!" she sobbed, the tears falling onto the blanket, the ornament once in her lap now lay on the carpet, where it had rolled only moments earlier.
"Abby, I am not going to hurt you." Luka said gently, attempting to move closer again. "I would never hurt you."
"He raped me." She sobbed again, burying her face in the arm of the dark couch, muffling her sobs.
Luka watched her body shake, heard her constant gasps for fresh air, the coughing as she cried.
"Abby, please.." he begged, touching her back with his index finger, then his pinkie. He moved himself a few inches closer, resting his entire hand lightly on her back. "Let me help you Abby."
He waited a moment for her response, waited as her body shook again; she choked on her own phlegm, taking in another breath. His hand remained on her back, waiting for her to scream to move it, to stop touching her. But she didn't. her head rose slowly from the couch arm, covered in her own tears, her eyes a deep red, matching her face. She watched him for a second, gasping for more air.
"Please Abby." He begged again.
And the twinkling Christmas lights went dead.
+++++++++++
I'm falling
Can't breathe anymore
And the Ocean has opened
These Scars need to heal
Hold on I'm falling, can't reach... reach...
Colder and colder Just hold onto me
+++++++++++
05/10/01