Title: Better to Burn
Summary: Umm, there's Luka, there's Abby, there's lots of thoughtful introspection, self-reform, and not-so-subtle symbology. Slightly abstract. Set in season 8.
Spoilers: Till mid- season 8… I'm confident you've all gotten that far already. After that it's pretty AU.
Disclaimer: I'm not that pretty and I'm not that special, so please don't sue. I'm not that wealthy either (they're not mine.)
Reviews: I would be eternally grateful.
Ch. 3: No Corner
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"You cannot find peace by avoiding life, Leonard."
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It was the same dream every time. Hands bound—but that was her own doing. The water below was murky. Heart pounding, it wasn't the water that she feared, not the end. She knew what was in it, but from above she couldn't see. She never took the last step. Never fell in.
Abby awoke peacefully.
After mentally weighing the merits of sleep versus wage-earning for a couple of minutes, (her unpaid phone bill, to her acute displeasure, finally shifting favour towards the latter,) she threw off her covers and made her way to the shower without giving the nightly escapades of her subconscious a second thought.
As the sound of running water filled the bathroom, Abby closed her eyes and let her mind go blank, the soft massage of warm water on her back inviting her into oblivion. By the time she reopened her eyes, her vision was made hazy by steam. Abby watched as drops of water streaked the door of her shower stall, liked how the mottled glass made everything blurry, as if the world were someone's vision through tears.
No, thought Abby. Not tears. A painting— watercolour. Soft edges, colours melting together, inexact shapes. What lay beyond its frame, unseen, was only to be imagined. Possibility— Abby was comfortable with possibility; much less so with realisation. In her experience, realisation was more often than not synonymous with disappointment.
Recently, however, she had not been able to shake the memory of Luka's resolve from the back of her mind. He had known loss, she knew, and disappointment, of which she herself was probably not the least. And yet he sought out life rather than trying to protect himself from it. It was a revelation that held Abby strangely aghast at this man who had shared his bed with her for almost a year.
It occurred to her that Luka would be due home soon. It had been almost a month since he'd left; Christmas had turned into New Years, New Years to her birthday, and her birthday to the promise of three more dreary weeks of a Chicago January. She found herself impatient for his return, knowing that he probably wouldn't elaborate much on his experiences, but nonetheless becoming uncharacteristically anxious to take a peek— (just a peek, mind you)— at what lay beyond the picture frame.
******
"Your boyfriend's asking for you."
Abby looked up from the chart that had just been carelessly shoved in front of her face.
"What?"
"Creepy guy in One?" Chuny grinned. "Needs his nurse. He's all yours."
Abby rolled her eyes and sighed. "Right, thanks." Why she hadn't chosen to go for the accounting degree was, at the moment, beyond her.
"Hey Abby, code brown in Exam 3. And Mrs. Wright in Curtain 2 needs more emesis basins."
In fact, 15th Century Russian Feudal Studies was beginning to sound more and more appealing…
"You're back," Mr. Kell, 41, 160 Pounds, No History of Head Trauma greeted Abby dully as she stepped into Exam 1. He indicated his hospital gown. "I changed into this thing a half an hour ago." His voice was monotone, his eyes droopy.
"Sorry. Did the acetaminophen help?"
"A little, I guess." Man, this guy was depressing. Abby looked up as Carter entered the room.
"You're really beautiful." The dreary voice called Abby's attention back to her patient. "What?" She shook her head. "Oh, thanks."
She smiled at Carter. "Mr. Kell complains of constant headache pain- started about a week ago."
Carter smiled back, amused. "Hi Mr. Kell, I'm Dr. Carter…"
Ten minutes later, Carter caught up to Abby as she exited Mr. Kell's room. "Making new friends?"
"Shut up, Carter."
"No, no— I really thought I saw something there."
Abby was now laughing out loud at his crooked grin. "You know, maybe I need to remind you of a certain Miss McDuffy?"
Carter held up his hands in mock defeat. "Point taken." Still grinning, he grabbed another chart and studied it briefly. "Aaahhh, 'I think I have the crabs, and it itches bad.'" He smirked. "See you later, Abby."
Abby glanced at the board; things seemed to be winding down a bit. She took a deep breath. She could do this… only— she glanced at her watch— six more hours left?? She exhaled and leaned on the admin desk, trying to rub the fatigue from her eyes.
"Coffee?"
Abby looked up from the Styrofoam cup that was suddenly being held out in front of her. "Luka!"
Luka smiled as she took the cup of weak lounge coffee gratefully. "You look like you need a boost."
"I'll say. So, you're back." Very good, Abby. Excellent deduction.
"Yep. Got in last night."
"I was getting worried; I thought I'd at least get a post card."
"You need to get email."
Abby looked around wearily. "Didn't take you long to get sucked back into this insanity."
"Nope… It's good to see you though."
His expression was calm, sincere, and clearer than Abby had seen it in a long time. She smiled up at him. "You too."
"I…"
"Dr. Kovac," Gallant broke in hesitantly and was now standing uncertainly a few yards away. He approached as Luka gave him his attention. "I have a 52 year old man with mild chest pain in Exam 2. Could you help me rule out MI?"
"Sure." Luka turned back to Abby. "See you."
She nodded, finding it difficult to believe that this was the same man whom she had left one month earlier, after a warm but brief embrace and a simple goodbye, looking utterly defeated, startlingly unalive. Now, it was the clarity in his eyes that was startling. She had seen that expression before, once or twice perhaps, after making love to him. At the time it had irritated her, but now she found it vaguely stimulating, intriguing.
"Luka!" He turned around as she caught up to him in the hallway. "I was just thinking, if you want, I could take you out for coffee or something later. You could tell me about your trip…"
Luka ran his fingers through his hair, looking slightly surprised.
"It's not a big deal; I know you're probably jet-lagged."
"No, uh, I was going to get some dinner later probably… at Magoo's, around 7? You could join me."
Abby blinked, then nodded. "Magoo's is good."
"Ok."
"Ok."
A pause. Then Luka smiled and reached out to touch her arm lightly. "See you then." He disappeared through the exam room door.
******
Abby was late to dinner. She spotted Luka sitting in a corner booth from across the diner and hurried over, her expression apologetic.
"You're still here."
His smile was amicable. "Of course… I have to eat."
"Sorry I'm late," she said as she slid into the seat across from him. "Just, kept getting roped in, you know."
Luka waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Food's not even here yet."
"Mmmm, food," she murmured as she picked up a menu.
After placing her order, Abby settled back into her seat. "So…"
"So."
There was a moment's pause as Abby poked at the ice cubes in her water, then stopped and focused again on Luka. "Good trip?"
Luka leaned forward slightly and thought for a moment, then started hesitantly.
"It was… good. Good for me. It's different there, the developing world. Not just culture, geography— those things are nominal. It's… the soul of the place. Of the people. Life doesn't wait; it's not cushioned like it is here. There's nothing separating you from each and every day." He glanced up uncertainly and then continued. "It's as if… you've descended a bit farther towards the core of what it is to be alive. Things tend to be more raw—emotions, experiences. And it's not just the harsh side of existence… it's everything. Pain and grief as well as joy and celebration." He glanced up again, and this time his focus remained on her. "It's just that, sometimes, here, this place… it can be a bit too contrived, too numbing. I just need to remind myself of life, of me."
Abby's food was starting to get cold. She didn't notice. She swallowed and wondered why it seemed to take forever to find her voice and why, when it did come, it sounded far away and breathless.
"Didn't it hurt?"
Luka's response was immediate.
"Yes."
******
That dream again. The familiar panic growing as she inched closer to the muddy pond that surrounded the rock on which she stood, dry, safe… she could stay there as long as she wanted to. The terror was blinding as she took yet another step forward. Closed her eyes. Fell in.
Abby awoke with a violent jolt, a scream caught in the back of her throat, sheets soaked with a cold sweat. Her breath was loud in her ears as she lay paralyzed in her bed, waiting for her heart to stop pounding painfully in her chest.
"Shit," she hissed, as soon as she was able to pull herself out of bed. Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, she headed to the bathroom. Warm water was soothing as it ran over shaking hands and splashed across her face. When she reopened her eyes, however, she found her reflection grotesque and imposing. Red eyes, dark circles, tangled hair… it was so disturbingly clear that some of the terror returned. Abby wrapped the blanket tighter around her body and turned away.
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"To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is. At last to know it, to love it, for what it is, and then, to put it away."
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A/N: The beginning and ending quotes of this chapter are delivered by Virginia Woolf in The Hours, a great book by Michael Cunningham as well as a great movie. Luka and Abby's initial dialogue (sans coffee) is from "A Simple Twist of Fate," and Carter's crabs patient is courtesy of Dr. Lewis (I heart her) in "Tell Me Where it Hurts," I think. Also, please forgive medical inaccuracies! i.e. I have no idea if a med student would need an attending to help r/o MI, but apparently in my world they would.