The alarm. Luka rolled over and hit the clock, knocking it to the floor.

He liked work. He really did. Going back had been the best thing he could have done. But why did shifts always have to start at such inhumane hours? It was still pitch dark outside ... but then it was December.

You've gotten spoiled, he told himself. All those months of sleeping in every day, sleeping late, having nothing to get up for, nothing to do. Even now, only two shifts a week, a mixture of days and nights, weren't giving his body an opportunity to reset any sort of biological rhythms. Well, next week he'd be back up to three shifts. And soon, with any luck, onto some sort of regular schedule again.

He'd slept badly too. Nightmares again? They'd been bad again, since last week's trauma. The sheets were damp, his shirt stuck to his back. He couldn't remember having dreamt, but he must have. He rarely remembered the dreams any more.

Luka groaned, got out of bed. Find the crutch, he'd need it until his leg loosened up after the night, though he didn't usually use it to walk around the apartment any more. Put on the coffee. Into the shower.

The hot water helped clear his head, his chest. He remembered coughing during the night. His throat was scratchy, sore. He'd been coughing for a couple of days. Must be coming down with something ... probably the flu. It was bad this year, he'd already seen half a dozen flu patients and it was just the beginning of December. Oh well, he'd get through the shift, then he'd have three days at home to recover before his next one. He usually shook off things like this pretty quickly, and it didn't seem bad. Two shifts a week; he could hardly justify calling in sick for something like this.

Luka got out of the shower, dressed quickly. Coffee. It didn't taste good. Nothing did. He was queasy. He remembered that he hadn't had dinner last night. He'd dozed off reading a book, and had then gone to bed early.

'Come on, Luka,' he told himself. 'Pull yourself together here! You're still just shaken up from last week. It happened. You know to expect it, and now you can keep it from happening again. You just can't let it get to you.' If he wanted to work, and he had to work, he had to keep working, he would have to be able to deal with things like that. He could come home after the shift - he could throw up, scream, cry and rage, in the privacy of his own apartment - but for those 12 hours, he had to hold it together. He had to stay in control through whatever they threw at him. And to do that, he had to take care of himself. He had to get enough to eat, get enough rest.

Luka choked down the coffee and the two slices of buttered toast. They felt like sandpaper in his mouth. His stomach still churned and he sat for a few minutes until he was sure the food would stay down. A few swigs of Pepto-Bismol to close the deal, then he got his coat and his crutch, and headed out into the chilly dawn.

The ER was warm and busy, as always. Luka always felt better when he was here. Despite everything, this was still the one place where he could almost forget his own problems, and pretend he was the person he had been before.

Kerry was waiting for him in the lounge. She got right to the point.

"How are things going for you so far, Luka?"

"Really well. I'm doing well with the work. I like being back."

"Good, good. Robert says that things seem to be going well too. Still..." Kerry hesitated, "We both think you should stick with the 24 hour a week schedule for a little while yet."

"I can handle more. And I need the money. This is barely paying me more than I was making on disability."

"You look very tired, Luka."

"I'm coming down with something," Luka admitted. "But I'll be fine. And once I'm over this, I can work a full schedule again."

"If you're coming down with something, that says you may be pushing yourself a little too hard."

"No, it says I've been exposed to the Influenza virus."

"Let's stick with two shifts until Christmas - either 2 12's or 3 8's, your choice. If you're doing better by then, we'll put you on a full schedule again."

"Two 12's," Luka said. He knew Kerry was right. He did need a little more time to get back into the routine. But 8 hour shifts wouldn't give his body a chance to get used to the 12 hour work schedule that was usual for attendings.

"Robert's been very happy with your work," Kerry said again. "You're doing great. Don't be surprised that you can't just jump back in with both feet. These things do take time."

"I know Kerry," Luka said. He turned to his locker, began to open the lock to get himself ready for the work day. He heard Kerry leave the room.

Walking out of the lounge a few minutes later, Luka almost collided with Abby. He hadn't had a shift with her since he'd been back, not terribly surprising given his limited work schedule. He hadn't even seen her, he realized, since that day in his hospital room 6 months before.

Abby looked startled, then smiled. Then, after an instant, the smile vanished under a look of nervous uncertainty.

"Abby," he said softly. "It's been a long time."

"Yeah."

"How are you doing?"

"I'm good. Keeping busy." Abby fidgeted nervously.

"Good. Busy is good."

"I'd heard you were back at work."

"Just been back for a couple of weeks, and just two shifts a week for a while."

An awkward pause, then, "You're looking good."

Luka knew that was a lie, that Abby didn't think he looked well at all. He could see that when she'd first seen him, she'd be surprised at how bad he looked. "I'm coming down with something," he explained again. "I'm feeling pretty crappy today. But I am doing good. I'm walking again, I'm working again. I'm happy."

"I'm glad." But the uncertainty was still there. Something Abby couldn't, or wouldn't ask.

"Abby," Luka said. "I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anything you did. I just needed time to get myself together again. I was going through a horrible time ... things were so hard."

"I know. You don't have to explain. You're better now?"

"Yeah, I'm doing much better. And we can be friends again, if you want."

"That'd be good."

Luka smiled at her, and was pleased to see her smile back. "Well, patients call."

"Maybe we could get lunch later?" Abby asked.

"Maybe. Try to find me later."

Fractures, burns, chest pains, fevers, boils, vertigo. The usual round of patients. Still no trauma. It was barely 2 and Luka was on his fifth cup of coffee. Just get through the shift, he told himself, then he could go home and sleep.

Randi poked her head into the room where Luka was evaluating an elderly patient with abdominal pain. "Dr. Kovač? Call for you on line 4. Dr. Heneley's office."

They were calling, Luka realized, to remind him of his appointment Monday morning. Just a regular check-up and follow-up. He almost groaned. He didn't want to go. If he was sick, he didn't want to be going in for a check up, it would just complicate matters. And if he had the flu, there really wasn't anything Heneley could do for him anyway. It would just waste everyone's time.

Luka picked up the phone. "Kovač here ... yeah ... I'm going to have to reschedule ... I umm ... have a shift Monday ... I'll call back next week when I know what my schedule will be for the next few weeks. Thanks." He hung up, returned to his patient. The shift was half over. He'd get some lunch; not that he was hungry, but all that coffee wasn't sitting well in his empty stomach, then there would be just a few more hours to go.