Chapter Two: The Lost
Abby sat stiffly at her kitchen table. It was three-thirty in the morning, and she couldn't sleep. It had been more than 36 hours since she'd learned of Luka's death, and she hadn't had more than two hours sleep since then. Not last night, when she'd laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, tears coming off and on, her mind unable to stop conjuring images of Luka. She'd tried to sleep tonight, but hadn't gotten more than fifteen minutes at a time. Finally, she'd given up on sleep altogether.
Now here she was, sitting at the table, staring at the bottle she'd purchased the night before. She hadn't opened it yet, but oh, she wanted to. Her desire for the fiery liquid was a living thing, consuming her. It was a siren song, enticing her with promises of pleasure. If she drank it she could be at peace, if only for a little while. If she drank it, she could forget. She could forget about the way Carter had walked away from her. She could forget about the way her coworkers were tiptoeing around her. And she could forget about Luka, about the empty void she felt knowing she would never see him again.
Her fingers closed around the neck of the bottle and she pulled it closer. Cheap, potent whiskey. She could almost feel it burn its way down her throat. Just one sip would feel so good. Just one sip and her pain would start to fade away. Just one sip and she could feel a little peace.
At the moment she didn't care that one sip would lead to two, and two would lead to the entire bottle. She didn't care, because she had nothing left to hold onto. Luka was gone, Carter had left, and she'd never felt so lost in her life.
It was true what they said about hindsight, she thought. Now that it was too late, she saw all the mistakes she'd made along the way. In glaring detail, she saw all of her failings, saw how she could've avoided them but hadn't.
She closed her eyes and pictured her first date with Luka. She'd been so nervous asking him out. She never asked men out. But after impulsively kissing him a couple nights before, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. Just knowing she was in the ER with him had sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach like a teenager with a crush. Which, in a way, she was. Her heart fluttered whenever she was around him, and when they were alone she had trouble finding her words. And though her attempt to ask him out was fumbling, it worked.
The date had started off easily, wonderfully. Playing foosball that night, she hadn't been able to remember the last time she'd had as much fun. Playing with him, talking with him, she'd discovered a side to Luka that he didn't reveal at the hospital. So easygoing and relaxed, but with that adorable hint of first-date jitters. Even that first night she'd started to feel sparks of something deeper develop between them. They'd just seemed to fit together so naturally. He'd made her feel good-happy and relaxed yet definitely energized-for the first time in a long time.
She'd barely felt the cold that night as they walked near the river. They'd talked, joked, and when he took her hand and held it in his much larger one, she'd felt a jolt of electricity. It had felt good, right, being close to him.
And then the mugger had come out of nowhere. She'd never been so scared in her life as when Luka fell to the ground like that. But she hadn't had any time to worry about whether he was unconscious or worse, because the mugger came after her, demanding the purse she hadn't been carrying that night. She hadn't known what to do except throw her hands up in self-defense and wait for the man's angry blows.
But Luka had gotten back up, and the mugger was no match for his much larger size. And she'd never admitted it to anyone, but Luka's rage had terrified her. It had taken over him, and it had been as if he wasn't even aware of what he was doing. He'd smashed the mugger's head into the ground far longer than was necessary to subdue him. The detective they'd spoken with that night had assured them it had been self-defense and that there was nothing to worry about. But neither of them had told him just how many times the mugger's head had hit the ground.
Abby had made her first mistake with Luka that night. When he'd shrugged off her care and walked away, she hadn't gone after him. His face had been a cold, blank mask, but turbulent emotions had swirled in his eyes. She'd felt the burden of guilt on his shoulders, but she'd stayed behind. She'd known him for so little time, she hadn't dared follow him. But she should have stayed, just so he wasn't alone, so she wasn't alone.
She pulled the cap off of the bottle and let the sharp scent waft up to her. Her mouth watered for it, and she was ashamed. No matter how much time passed, she knew she'd always be tempted. Alcohol would always hold that power over her.
Luka's face flashed through her mind, and a sheen of tears gathered in her eyes. He shouldn't be dead. He deserved to live his life, to live it with passion, to find a woman who could love him, who could give him children, who could make him happy. When she thought of her mother, and now her brother, she wasn't sure she dared to be that woman. Because what her family went through she wouldn't wish on anyone.
But none of that mattered, she thought with a harsh laugh, bringing the bottle to her lips. Luka was dead. He had died, alone in the jungle, no one by his side to comfort him. No one to tell him they loved him.
Well, I did, she thought as her first sip burnt its fiery path down her throat. I was just too damn stupid to do anything about it when I had the chance.
She set the bottle down, hard enough to slosh a little onto the table, and wiped away a tear. She looked down at the bottle, at the transient comfort it promised, and there wasn't a recrimination strong enough for what she felt in that moment. She raged at herself, for all of her useless fears and insecurities, for never having the guts to make the life she'd wanted. A life with Luka. And she raged against fate, for keeping her here while taking away the life of a man who, more than anyone she'd ever known, deserved to be happy.
With a violent curse she swung her arm, sending the bottle flying. It shattered against the side of the refrigerator, glass shards dropping and shooting out like lethal teardrops, the liquid sloshing down the side of the refrigerator and pooling at the bottom.
Luka didn't deserve this. She would not let his death, her memories of him both good and bad, turn her into a miserable drunk. She scraped her fingers through her hair and sighed. She wondered if there were any meetings at four in the morning. Then she looked down at herself and shook her head. She'd make quite a site walking into a meeting in ratty pajama pants and an old tank top.
Maybe she'd take Dr. Weaver up on her offer of a few days off, Abby thought suddenly, slumping back down in her seat. Maybe she could go visit her mother. Her relationship with Maggie was a mistake she hadn't lost the chance to fix yet. Maybe it was time to put all of her childhood hurts aside and make things right with her mother. She'd made the mistake of refusing to let Luka help when she was having problems with her mother. She knew he'd wanted her to work on her relationship with her mother, but she hadn't done it. Well, she could do it now, for her, and for him.
* * * * *
She got to the hospital early, hoping to catch Dr. Weaver at the beginning of her shift. She didn't want to have to trail the woman through the halls like a lost puppy dog. She wanted to get this over with a minimum of fuss, then be gone.
She snuck into the lounge and let the door swing shut before anyone noticed her. Today was her scheduled day off, and she didn't want to have to tell them why she was here. Because then she'd have to endure their looks of sympathy. She didn't want sympathy, and she damn sure didn't want pity.
Weaver walked in ten minutes later, as Abby sat staring at Luka's locker. "Abby, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be off today."
Abby took a deep breath. "I know. I just wanted to see if I can still take you up on y our offer to take a couple days off."
"Is everything all right?"
"Fine, I just thought I'd take a couple of days, maybe drive up to see my mom."
"I think that's a good idea," Kerry said in her no-nonsense yet still sympathetic way. "You take as much time as you need."
"I just want a couple of days. I just want to get away from the hospital for a while." Because I can't stop thinking about Luka, she thought. Every time I walk down the halls I expect to see him coming toward me. And I can't take it.
"I understand. Just let me know when you get back."
"I will. Thanks." She waited until Kerry left the lounge, then closed her eyes and sighed. That hadn't been so bad, she thought. She only wished the next part-talking to her mother-would be as easy.
She left the ER a couple minutes later after casting a last long look at Luka's locker. She wondered who was going to clean it out, and what would be done with his things. Then she wondered what would happen to his apartment, and if anyone had been feeding his fish. When she felt her eyes mist over, she hurried through the ambulance bay, ignoring the voice behind her, calling her name.
But when the voice persisted, she finally stopped, closing her eyes briefly before turning around.
Lily rushed up to her, holding onto her stethoscope so it wouldn't fly away. "Abby, Dr. Weaver wants to talk to you. She said it's urgent."
Abby prayed for patience. "Look, I'm off for the next couple days. Whatever it is, it can wait until I get back."
"I really think you need to come now."
"Damn it," Abby muttered under her breath, then followed the other nurse back inside. When she looked up at the admit desk and saw Kerry standing behind it, the phone clutched in her hand with a look of shock on her face, Abby's heart sped up. She waited until Kerry hung up the phone, then raised her eyes expectantly.
Kerry met her gaze, shaking her head slightly. "You're not going to believe it..."
Abby sat stiffly at her kitchen table. It was three-thirty in the morning, and she couldn't sleep. It had been more than 36 hours since she'd learned of Luka's death, and she hadn't had more than two hours sleep since then. Not last night, when she'd laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, tears coming off and on, her mind unable to stop conjuring images of Luka. She'd tried to sleep tonight, but hadn't gotten more than fifteen minutes at a time. Finally, she'd given up on sleep altogether.
Now here she was, sitting at the table, staring at the bottle she'd purchased the night before. She hadn't opened it yet, but oh, she wanted to. Her desire for the fiery liquid was a living thing, consuming her. It was a siren song, enticing her with promises of pleasure. If she drank it she could be at peace, if only for a little while. If she drank it, she could forget. She could forget about the way Carter had walked away from her. She could forget about the way her coworkers were tiptoeing around her. And she could forget about Luka, about the empty void she felt knowing she would never see him again.
Her fingers closed around the neck of the bottle and she pulled it closer. Cheap, potent whiskey. She could almost feel it burn its way down her throat. Just one sip would feel so good. Just one sip and her pain would start to fade away. Just one sip and she could feel a little peace.
At the moment she didn't care that one sip would lead to two, and two would lead to the entire bottle. She didn't care, because she had nothing left to hold onto. Luka was gone, Carter had left, and she'd never felt so lost in her life.
It was true what they said about hindsight, she thought. Now that it was too late, she saw all the mistakes she'd made along the way. In glaring detail, she saw all of her failings, saw how she could've avoided them but hadn't.
She closed her eyes and pictured her first date with Luka. She'd been so nervous asking him out. She never asked men out. But after impulsively kissing him a couple nights before, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. Just knowing she was in the ER with him had sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach like a teenager with a crush. Which, in a way, she was. Her heart fluttered whenever she was around him, and when they were alone she had trouble finding her words. And though her attempt to ask him out was fumbling, it worked.
The date had started off easily, wonderfully. Playing foosball that night, she hadn't been able to remember the last time she'd had as much fun. Playing with him, talking with him, she'd discovered a side to Luka that he didn't reveal at the hospital. So easygoing and relaxed, but with that adorable hint of first-date jitters. Even that first night she'd started to feel sparks of something deeper develop between them. They'd just seemed to fit together so naturally. He'd made her feel good-happy and relaxed yet definitely energized-for the first time in a long time.
She'd barely felt the cold that night as they walked near the river. They'd talked, joked, and when he took her hand and held it in his much larger one, she'd felt a jolt of electricity. It had felt good, right, being close to him.
And then the mugger had come out of nowhere. She'd never been so scared in her life as when Luka fell to the ground like that. But she hadn't had any time to worry about whether he was unconscious or worse, because the mugger came after her, demanding the purse she hadn't been carrying that night. She hadn't known what to do except throw her hands up in self-defense and wait for the man's angry blows.
But Luka had gotten back up, and the mugger was no match for his much larger size. And she'd never admitted it to anyone, but Luka's rage had terrified her. It had taken over him, and it had been as if he wasn't even aware of what he was doing. He'd smashed the mugger's head into the ground far longer than was necessary to subdue him. The detective they'd spoken with that night had assured them it had been self-defense and that there was nothing to worry about. But neither of them had told him just how many times the mugger's head had hit the ground.
Abby had made her first mistake with Luka that night. When he'd shrugged off her care and walked away, she hadn't gone after him. His face had been a cold, blank mask, but turbulent emotions had swirled in his eyes. She'd felt the burden of guilt on his shoulders, but she'd stayed behind. She'd known him for so little time, she hadn't dared follow him. But she should have stayed, just so he wasn't alone, so she wasn't alone.
She pulled the cap off of the bottle and let the sharp scent waft up to her. Her mouth watered for it, and she was ashamed. No matter how much time passed, she knew she'd always be tempted. Alcohol would always hold that power over her.
Luka's face flashed through her mind, and a sheen of tears gathered in her eyes. He shouldn't be dead. He deserved to live his life, to live it with passion, to find a woman who could love him, who could give him children, who could make him happy. When she thought of her mother, and now her brother, she wasn't sure she dared to be that woman. Because what her family went through she wouldn't wish on anyone.
But none of that mattered, she thought with a harsh laugh, bringing the bottle to her lips. Luka was dead. He had died, alone in the jungle, no one by his side to comfort him. No one to tell him they loved him.
Well, I did, she thought as her first sip burnt its fiery path down her throat. I was just too damn stupid to do anything about it when I had the chance.
She set the bottle down, hard enough to slosh a little onto the table, and wiped away a tear. She looked down at the bottle, at the transient comfort it promised, and there wasn't a recrimination strong enough for what she felt in that moment. She raged at herself, for all of her useless fears and insecurities, for never having the guts to make the life she'd wanted. A life with Luka. And she raged against fate, for keeping her here while taking away the life of a man who, more than anyone she'd ever known, deserved to be happy.
With a violent curse she swung her arm, sending the bottle flying. It shattered against the side of the refrigerator, glass shards dropping and shooting out like lethal teardrops, the liquid sloshing down the side of the refrigerator and pooling at the bottom.
Luka didn't deserve this. She would not let his death, her memories of him both good and bad, turn her into a miserable drunk. She scraped her fingers through her hair and sighed. She wondered if there were any meetings at four in the morning. Then she looked down at herself and shook her head. She'd make quite a site walking into a meeting in ratty pajama pants and an old tank top.
Maybe she'd take Dr. Weaver up on her offer of a few days off, Abby thought suddenly, slumping back down in her seat. Maybe she could go visit her mother. Her relationship with Maggie was a mistake she hadn't lost the chance to fix yet. Maybe it was time to put all of her childhood hurts aside and make things right with her mother. She'd made the mistake of refusing to let Luka help when she was having problems with her mother. She knew he'd wanted her to work on her relationship with her mother, but she hadn't done it. Well, she could do it now, for her, and for him.
* * * * *
She got to the hospital early, hoping to catch Dr. Weaver at the beginning of her shift. She didn't want to have to trail the woman through the halls like a lost puppy dog. She wanted to get this over with a minimum of fuss, then be gone.
She snuck into the lounge and let the door swing shut before anyone noticed her. Today was her scheduled day off, and she didn't want to have to tell them why she was here. Because then she'd have to endure their looks of sympathy. She didn't want sympathy, and she damn sure didn't want pity.
Weaver walked in ten minutes later, as Abby sat staring at Luka's locker. "Abby, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be off today."
Abby took a deep breath. "I know. I just wanted to see if I can still take you up on y our offer to take a couple days off."
"Is everything all right?"
"Fine, I just thought I'd take a couple of days, maybe drive up to see my mom."
"I think that's a good idea," Kerry said in her no-nonsense yet still sympathetic way. "You take as much time as you need."
"I just want a couple of days. I just want to get away from the hospital for a while." Because I can't stop thinking about Luka, she thought. Every time I walk down the halls I expect to see him coming toward me. And I can't take it.
"I understand. Just let me know when you get back."
"I will. Thanks." She waited until Kerry left the lounge, then closed her eyes and sighed. That hadn't been so bad, she thought. She only wished the next part-talking to her mother-would be as easy.
She left the ER a couple minutes later after casting a last long look at Luka's locker. She wondered who was going to clean it out, and what would be done with his things. Then she wondered what would happen to his apartment, and if anyone had been feeding his fish. When she felt her eyes mist over, she hurried through the ambulance bay, ignoring the voice behind her, calling her name.
But when the voice persisted, she finally stopped, closing her eyes briefly before turning around.
Lily rushed up to her, holding onto her stethoscope so it wouldn't fly away. "Abby, Dr. Weaver wants to talk to you. She said it's urgent."
Abby prayed for patience. "Look, I'm off for the next couple days. Whatever it is, it can wait until I get back."
"I really think you need to come now."
"Damn it," Abby muttered under her breath, then followed the other nurse back inside. When she looked up at the admit desk and saw Kerry standing behind it, the phone clutched in her hand with a look of shock on her face, Abby's heart sped up. She waited until Kerry hung up the phone, then raised her eyes expectantly.
Kerry met her gaze, shaking her head slightly. "You're not going to believe it..."