Disclaimer: See Part 1



"24 Steps: Part 3" by Carolina


"Hey, Carter," Luka called out and ran to the young doctor as soon as he saw him walk out of exam 3.

Carter looked back to see who was calling him, and kept walking forward when he saw Luka approaching him. "What is it?" he asked as he took his gloves off.

"Do you have a few minutes?" Luka asked as they walked towards the front desk, with his right hand on his pocket and tapping the wall as he strolled along.

Carter looked around, "I think so, why?"

Luka took a moment, and then turned to Carter, "Have you talked to Abby?" he asked hesitantly.

Carter glanced his way and kept walking, "I talk to her everyday," he answered incompletely.

Luka bit the inside of his lip, he hated this. "Is she ok?"

Carter looked at him again, this time with a serious expression on his face. "Shouldn't you, of all people, know that?" he asked incredulously.

It was no secret that him and Luka weren't on the best of terms. Luka had been jealous about Carter's friendship with Abby, and Carter had been apprehensive about her relationship with Luka, since they started on such instable ground. Everyday he walked into the hospital expecting Abby's announcement that her and Luka were history. Not that he wanted Abby for himself, but something about Luka didn't bode well with him, mostly the fact that he was so quiet and reserved. Carter felt like he should protect her, as though she were a little sister. However, this sudden concern on the Croat's part for Abby was a little comforting, although Carter wouldn't wallow in that idea for long.

Luka scratched the back of his head only to deal with the blunt he had just received. Well, he should know, Carter was right, but only if Abby's problem wasn't about Luka. His only fear right now, though, was that Carter knew what was wrong with Abby and not him. That Abby had run to Carter instead of him. Luka hadn't been there for her before when she needed him, Carter had. The memory still made him lightheaded. Sometimes he wondered why people got second chances at all.

Luka's emotions had been a little justified, by himself. He knew people in relationships always had friends on the side to talk about their beau's, he himself had a few while he was married. But this was different, Carter was a man. And even worse, he wasn't gay. He knew that he was being stupid when jealous, but even though he could trust Abby, that didn't mean that Carter couldn't make a move. Maybe he was being too traditional, or maybe Americans weren't traditional enough. He had tried his best to put it behind him, but it was still a small thorn stuck inside his heel.

"I, uh, tried to talk to her but she said everything was ok," Luka finally said. "I don't think it is, so I figured she'd tell you," he took a breath to continue but for some reason just stopped there.

Carter grabbed a chart and began to read it casually. This guy, he thought. Luka Kovac was a real character. "No, I'm sure she'd tell me if something was wrong," he said suggestively.

Luka nodded and tapped his fingers on the counter as he looked at the chart Carter was reviewing. "Can you let me know if she tells you something, please?" he said hesitantly.

Carter finished the chart and put it on the rack. "Don't worry, if she wanted you to know something I'm sure she'd tell you," he said bitterly and walked away. What was Luka so worried about anyway? Carter thought as he walked away. He had talked to Abby the past few days and she seemed fine, she even joked with him. Maybe this 'problem' she had was indeed about Luka. He couldn't wait to see her and ask.

----------------

"Frank?"

A week later, Kerry Weaver limped out of nowhere and towards the front desk, in another one of her moods.

"Frank!" she yelled again.

Frank peeked his head through the front of the desk, "What?"

"What the hell is this?" she asked as she held a bottle in her hand.

"Looks like alcohol," Frank said innocently.

"Looks like alcohol," Kerry repeated in a mock. "Thank you Frank, I bet you were an excellent detective," she said sarcastically. "Nothing escapes you."

"What do you want *me* to do about it?" he asked.

"I want you to send out a memo to every staff member reminding them to check every patient for cigarettes, drugs, or alcohol, and remind them it is not permitted inside the hospital," Kerry barked as she threw the bottle on the nearest trash can.

"Coming right up," Frank said as he began to type something on the computer.

Luka came out from the corner and sensing Kerry's bad mood tried to walk away, but not in time.

"Luka!" Kerry called him.

Luka let out a sigh, closed his eyes, and walked towards her. "Yeah?"

"What is Mrs. Rodriguez still doing in exam 2?" she asked, looking at the board.

"I'm still running some tests," Luka said shyly.

"She came in with nausea, dizziness, and feeling tired. Did you run a pregnancy test?" she asked.

"Yeah, it was positive," said Luka, knowing where she was going with this. "I wanted to make sure everything was ok."

"Give her some pre-natal vitamins and send her home, we're not a free clinic, unless you wanna pay for all those tests yourself," she scolded.

Luka rolled her eyes without her looking, and walked towards the lounge.

"Exam 2 is the other way, Luka," Kerry called out.

Luka punched the door to the lounge carefully and walked towards exam 2. "Mrs. Rodriguez?" he asked as he walked in.

"Yeah?" a young Hispanic woman looked up.

"I got you some pre-natal vitamins, make sure you take them every day, and take some time off work, you need to relax more," he said as he scribbled something on the chart.

"Can't I have an ultrasound?" the woman asked.

Luka looked at her, she should have one, but he should keep his job, so he took out a pad from his pocket. "I'm going to make you an appointment with OB, there you can have a more thorough examination," he said.

"Ok," the woman said, watching him write. "Can I go home now?"

"Sure," Luka said and gave her all the papers. "And congratulations," he said with a smile.

"Thank you," the woman said and watched him leave the room before she began to change into her clothes again.

----------------

Luka pushed the doors to the ER open and walked out, taking a load of fresh air with a sigh. The sun was out after two days of raining, and he leaned against the wall of the edifice, watching as people walked by. He wished Abby would have accepted his offer to go away for a while, because he himself was craving some time away from work. He figured he had called her with his thoughts, because all of a sudden she appeared next to him.

"Hey," she smiled as she looked up at him.

Luka smiled.

"Weaver?" she asked and saw him nod. "That poor woman, she needs a vacation," she mumbled as she leaned on the wall next to him.

Abby's gentleness towards Kerry surprised Luka, because she was usually the first person to complain about Kerry. But he decided to let it go. "Are you ok?" he asked her for some reason.

Abby looked at him in a weird way, "Yeah, why?"

Luka didn't know what to say next. Why was he asking her if she was ok? She was in a good mood, had been for the past week. Maybe that was it.

He flinched his face, "No reason," he lied.

Abby took her stare away from him and looked at the street.

Luka looked down at her, and saw her face painted orange because the sun was going down, letting the moon come up. It was quite a view, and it made him smile. "Do you want to do something tonight?" he asked.

Abby looked at him, "Like what?"

"I don't know," Luka said. "Maybe go out for dinner? We haven't been together in a long time," he said hesitantly.

Abby looked at him, and then away. "I don't know," she mumbled.

Luka's face fell, "What don't you know?" he asked, annoyed.

Abby let out a sigh, and knew where this was headed. She didn't know what to say, so she just shook her head and looked down.

"What is your problem, Abby?" Luka asked accusingly. "You've been depressed for the past few weeks, and then all of a sudden you're fine but when I want to be with you, you run away or make up a lame excuse," he barked.

"That's not true," Abby suddenly looked up at him.

"No, not from your point of view it isn't. You're the one running away, I'm the one who has to have a relationship with the back of your head," he raged.

Abby scratched her forehead.

"Do you want me to leave you alone? Do you wanna break up?" Luka asked.

"No!" Abby snapped.

"Then what is it? Because I can't go on going to bed every night, trying to come up with an explanation as to why you're being so bitchy," he shouted.

Low punch. Abby, kept looking down, and then began to walk away.

Luka reacted in a snap, "No, don't walk away from me," he said and turned her around with his arm.

Abby stopped and looked up at him.

Luka looked at her and then around, "You don't want to break up, but then when I'm around, you don't seem to want a relationship at all," he tried to explain how absurd the situation was.

Abby finally took a breath to talk. "I don't know, Luka. Stop asking me all this questions because I don't know what to say," she started slowly but then ended firmly.

Luka let out a sigh, and looked away. "Take all the time you need to make up your mind," he said callously and walked away.

Abby didn't watched him go because she was looking down at the ground, feeling as she had been legitimately chastised. The doors to the ER opened again, and she looked up, hopeful, but it was just Carter.

He saw her standing in the middle of the ambulance bay and walked up to her. "What's wrong?" he asked, having watched Luka stomp into the ER.

"Nothing, apparently," she said.

"Wanna have some coffee?" he asked hesitantly.

Abby didn't even look at him, and was already used to hear those words. "Sure," she mumbled and they walked towards Doc Magoo's.

----------------

Luka opened the door to his room and closed it again with a little too much energy, and heard the echo travel down the hall. This day seemed to have had a curse. Things had started out bad and were getting worse. He was glad he was finally home (if he could call this little room that), and that nothing could go wrong here. Turning on the television, he began to look for that news channel. They seemed to change that damn programming every week, and he was stuck trying to figure out his way through the channels. He finally found it, but he wasn't interested in politics, so he just concentrated on the pretty woman reading the news.

He heard a soft knock on his door and quickly turned off the television. "Who is it?" he asked. He never had any company, except for the manager telling him there was an emergency downstairs and they needed his help, so asking who it was sometimes really unnecessary. It was still a habit.

"It's me."

He immediately recognized Abby's voice, and suddenly remembered that she was the only person who ever really stopped by. The memory of their earlier fight came in a flashback, although he wasn't certain about what she was doing here now.

He opened the door slowly, and saw her standing there with her head down, like a kid waiting to be scolded. She held a bag on her hand, and that black purse/bag she always carried hanging from her shoulder.

She raised her head when Luka opened the door, not quite knowing what to say, of better yet, how to say it.

"I'm sorry," she said after a pause. That was probably the best way she could communicate the way she felt, and it was quite descriptive.

Luka opened the door fully and motioned her to walk in, which she did with a little hesitation. Abby hated this room. It was so small, it forced them to deal with whatever feelings they were having at the moment. There was no place to hide, no other rooms to escape to, not even dropping your head could divert the other person from whatever was happening inside you. The only way she could avoid him was by locking herself in the bathroom, but like every hotel room, this one was extremely cold, and the bathroom was probably the coldest corner of all. She had never been one for confrontations, unless she started the coupe, and this place was like a boxing ring. Needless to say, she always made sure they were somewhere else when she sensed a fight coming along.

She finally let out a sigh, and Luka, as usual, sat on his bed to face her. "I know I've been a little out there for the past few days..."

"Weeks," Luka interrupted her.

Abby looked at him and scratched her forehead, "Weeks," she repeated. She took a deep breath and took a step forward, "I'm sorry, it's just... all this about my mother, and my tuition, and just everything is sort of starting to get to me now," she said miserably.

Luka let out a sigh and took her hand, forcing her to sit next to him. "I kinda figured," he said and put his arm around her. "Why didn't you tell me that? I could have gotten us some time off, or if you needed some time I could have arranged something with Kerry," he said.

Abby pressed her lips together, "I guess I just wanted to solve my own problems in my own way, that didn't work out very well," she said very honestly, although Luka didn't know what she was referring to.

Luka kissed the top of her head, "Do you still want to go away?"

Abby stood up, "No, I'm sure everything will get sorted out," she said and pasted a smile on her face. As if she had just been reminded something, she looked down at the bag on her hand. "Oh, I made you some food. I figured if you didn't forgive me, you might at least eat some of my lasagna for the last time," she said with a smile.

Luka laughed, "Thanks," he took the bag and took a breath of that wonderful marinara sauce she made. He looked up at her, "Do you want to have dinner with me?" he asked.

Abby flinched her face, "No, I better go," she said and pointed to the door.

"Did you eat something?" he asked.

"No, my stomach hasn't been behaving in a while," she said with a smile.

"Are you sure?" Luka asked. "You shouldn't go to bed without having dinner."

Abby shook her head, glancing at the floor, "I have to run a lot of errands tomorrow," she lied.

Luka nodded, "Ok," he said casually although he was a little disappointed, but he wasn't going to get into that again. "I'll see you tomorrow then?" he asked.

"Yeah," Abby said. She smiled when he walked over and hugged her tight to give her a kiss. She often forgot that Luka could also be very affectionate, something only she knew about, and was the one thing among many she would miss when he set her off because of her alcoholism.

"Night," Abby said as she opened the door, and saw his bright smile before closing it again.

Leaning against the door, she let out another sigh. Looking at Luka in the eyes had been so hard since she started drinking again. Well, looking at everyone was. But for some reason, she couldn't hold his stare for long. Probably because he was the only person who knew about her alcoholism who wasn't an addict himself. Sometimes she urged to run to him and tell him what had happened. But that uncertainty about how he would react would pull her back and smash her against the wall. Luka could be very moral at times, although he rarely judged people. Still, she knew his views on society, and drunks didn't hold a high standard on these.

Finally, she let go of the knob of his door and walked away. Errands, what a load of bullshit.

----------------

Luka was awoken in the middle of God knows what hour by the phone ringing. Something about hotel telephones made you want to grab them by the chord and throw it out the window. Not only were they incredibly noisy and nearly impossible to figure out, but the calls were rarely welcomed.

"Hello?" he moaned into it.

"Dr. Kovac?" a man said from the other line. "We need your assistance down here."

Luka rolled his eyes. He couldn't get one night of peace without these people calling for medical 'assistance'. Haven't they ever heard of 911? He made a mental note to start looking for apartments as soon as possible.

"What is it?" he asked as he began to get dressed.

"Someone got drunk at the bar, we can barely feel her pulse," the man said.

Perfect. A drunk. "I'll be right there," Luka said and hung up the phone. He gathered his first aid kit and walked out of his room unwillingly.

As the elevator went down he looked at his watch, 3:46 am. Luckily he had the night shift the next day, or that night for that matter. With a ding, the elevator doors opened and Luka stepped out. He didn't have to think much about where the bar was, since he had spent many lonely nights sulking in depression with a glass of whiskey there. The hotel was empty though, except for the few who would spend sleepless nights walking around or reading in the lobby.

He walked through the archway of the bar and immediately spotted some people circling around whom he presumed was the patient, like vultures waiting for a prey to die.

The manager saw Luka and walked towards him. "Dr. Kovac, sorry to bother you at this hour," the man said apologetically.

"What happened?" Luka asked, still sleepy.

"Nothing much," the man said as he guided Luka towards the counter. "Someone had a little too much to drink."

Luka glanced the man's way and then tried to make it through some people still in the way.

"Alright, alright, let the doctor do his job," the manager said as he cleared the way.

A curtain of people opened, and once his eyes sent the brain the information in front of him, and it registered it, Luka stopped in his tracks, shocked. He knew that brown hair which cascaded on an extended arm a little too well. His heart skipped more than a couple of beats, and he still just stood there, flabbergasted, but mostly scared. His first impression was that someone had attacked her, or shot her, anything but the actual reason why he had been called. Denial is the first step, and it was holding on to him like a monkey to a branch.

"Dr. Kovac?" the manager asked, trying to bring him back to reality.

Luka removed his stare from Abby and looked at the manager, "Yeah," he said and looked at the first aid kit on his hand. He knew he wouldn't put much use to it, so he just set it down on the floor. Hesitantly, he walked over to do something, but suddenly his medical training had gone down the toilet. Her head was pressed against her arm, which was on the counter, and she appeared everything but alive.

"Shouldn't you take her pulse?" the bartender asked from the other side of the counter.

Luka looked at him, and walked over until he was next to Abby's form. Carefully, he laid her upper body back, and put his arms under her legs and lower back to carry her. Her entire body was limp, so he made sure her head wasn't hanging down, but safe against the molding of his neck and shoulder.

All the previous curious members of the audience were still looking at the scene, and it seemed like they didn't have the intention to leave any time soon.

Luka looked at them as he held Abby's unconscious body in his arms, and knew that he looked even more ignorant about what to do than any one of them. In a way he was. How many times had he dealt with drunks who would be thrown into the ER? Every night. They were brought in, Luka would find them a bed, and then let them sober up only to send them on their marry way the next day. This was different though. This was someone he cared about. The next day, he wouldn't have to send her off, he would have to be there and confront her. He would have to talk about this with her. He would have to fetch her an aspirin and a glass of water for her hangover. He would have to do something about this little problem of hers, which was now his problem as well.

He turned to the bartender, feeling he had been standing there unnecessarily forever. "Thanks for letting me know," he said, his voice hoarse and almost trembling.

"No problem. We deal with drunks like these every night," the man said.

"She's not a drunk!" Luka snapped, and immediately felt some people jump back. He figured they didn't know who Abby was, he never took her to a bar after he found out about her alcoholism. He didn't care about this people though, or about what they might say. The only thing he cared about right now was making his stomach bang against his skin, and so he walked away from the scene of the crime, leaving everyone with questions in their minds.

This was too much. It was suddenly worse than the idea of her planning to break up with him, or her being pregnant, or her going through a really bad depression. This was what he hadn't wanted to think about the last few weeks. As plausible as it had been, he hadn't dared to jump to that conclusion. Admitting that Abby might have fallen off the wagon, was like losing all faith in her, like thinking less of her. Actually, looking back to the last few weeks, even a five year old could have figured it out. Yet neither him nor Carter had. As much as he thought about her sudden change, it never entered his mind. He had spent sleepless hours thinking about what he would do if she was pregnant, or breaking up with him, or even clinically depressed. All of those three options had easy answers, this one didn't. What do you do when someone loses a game like that. He was sure not even Hallmark sold cards for these occasions. And he still had to face her in the morning.

As he rounded the corner and brought her up so that his finger could press the elevator button, he shut his mind off and only thought of her safety at that moment. Her pulse was actually stable, despite what they had said through the phone before. Her breathing was a little unusual, but he knew it was because of the alcohol, and it would be normal again after a couple of hours. Something suddenly came to him and it worried him even more; she hadn't eaten anything that night. If she had, he would wake her up and get her to throw up, and that would spare him from having to wait until the morning came. He could give her a little ipecac, but aside the fact that he didn't have any, he was too scared to wake her up now. He wasn't ready to face her, and although he probably wouldn't be ready to face her the next morning either, at least he would have a little time to think about what to say.

What to say.

That was the part where Abby was good at. He thought of calling Carter, since he knew what Abby was going through. But Luka didn't want to. He wanted to deal with this by himself. Abby was his girlfriend, not Carter's. If someone has to be there when she wakes up, it was him. Even if he said all the wrong things, it was him who would be doing the talking.

He looked at her face, which was resting on his collarbone. She actually seemed dead, and if it wasn't for her shallow breathing, he would have called 911 a long time ago. She hadn't moved when he picked her up, she hadn't even made a sound. The lighting numbers on the elevators seemed to take hours and if it wasn't for his current state of mind, he would have felt his muscles burning because of her weight. His eyes closed and he let out a sigh. For some reason, he lowered his head and kissed her forehead, as to reassure her that everything would be ok, even when she couldn't even feel a meteor if it hit the earth right now.

The elevator doors finally opened and he walked down the hall until he came face to face with his door. He held Abby in a way that could allow him to get his keys from his pocket and open the door. Despite common sense telling him he should put his medical training to work, he couldn't get out of that 'boyfriend' mode, so he just walked over and laid her on his bed. After making sure she was tucked in, he grabbed a chair and set it on the bed in front of her. He knew he couldn't possibly sleep thinking she was drunk next to him and even if he did, he wanted to be there whenever she'd wake up.

Resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, he leaned forward and watched her stomach raise and fall as she breathed. There was an awful silence in the room which permitted his mind to wander to dangerous territory. He needed to know what had caused this. If he knew, he could try to find a way to fix it, as far fetched as that was. She was wearing the same clothes he had seen her in before when she was there, so he figured she went straight to the bar. It made him wonder about her visit. Was she really being honest when she said she was sorry? Has she been pretending the last week everything was ok to get him off her back? Was this maybe the first night she had gotten drunk? He could feel a headache coming up, and yet he couldn't stop his mind from thinking, since it was all he could do right now.

His brain finally registered what had happened, and he finally reacted to the situation. Abby was drunk. She had been sober for five years and now she wasn't anymore. He closed his eyes, and without even feeling it, a tear traveled down his cheek. She looked so lost and as thought she had been attacked and worn out. He thought of doing something, getting her off her clothes, or washing her face. But the fear of breaking her scared him, so he decided not to touch her. There was a sob, and he figured it was his, because she was sleeping quietly.

Something inside of him made him get off his feet, and he ran towards the bathroom to lock himself in. He felt his stomach spinning around inside, and could feel the vomit rising on his throat. But he didn't throw up. He closed his eyes and sat down next to the toilet. Resting his head back, he took a deep breath and tried to relax, or get his breathing back to normal, although he couldn't tell the difference between normal and abnormal anymore. All he could think was the person laying on his bed.

Tomorrow morning he couldn't send her on her merry way. Tomorrow morning, he would have to sit down with her and talk about this, whether she wanted or not.


To be continued...