Author's Note: I decided to bring back my favourite character ever. This is the first part only. There will be a follow up only if someone's interested, otherwise... I don't know.
Summary: Set during season 10. A well-known nurse is back on the scene.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and this story is completely invented.


The day at the ER had started as usual, with Luka late and Doc. Weaver threatening to fire him even if she knew too well she couldn't do it, since they were short-staffed. He was heading to the doctors' lounge when he heard the ambulance getting near and turned back "Need help?" he asked. "No, I get it. Sam, come with me!" Pratt was already in front of the ambulance bay.
"What happened?"
"Female, about forty-years-old, found unconscious in Grand Park. Irregular pulse, tachycardia, seriously malnourished".
"Ok, bring her in trauma two."

They were working on the woman when Luka passed in front of the room and saw what seemed to be a familiar face. She couldn't be her. She couldn't possibly be her. The long black curls, the pale face. She couldn't be her. For a moment he stood still, silent, shocked, looking from outside the doors. Then he took courage and entered the room. "What.... what happened?" "Female found unconscious, irregular pulse, tachycardia, we managed to stabilize the heart-beat, for the moment, but the heart is seriously damaged, she will probably need a transplant in the future." Luka turned pale on hearing those words."Doc. Kovac, do you know her?" "Her name's Carol Hathaway... I try to get into contact with her mother." He left, still shocked, wondering what could have happened to reduce her to that condition.


Helen Hathaway was still living in her old apartment outside Chicago. When the phone rang, she feared the worst. She did not recognize his voice at the beginning but his strange name was hard to forget. It was that foreign doctor with whom her daughter used to go out together some years ago, before she decided to leave for Seattle. At the beginning she wasn't happy at all about her decision, she still couldn't trust Doug after he had broken Carol's heart once again, but after all they really seemed to be happy... until three weeks before: Doug and the babies got killed in a car accident while going back home from the kindergarten. That was the end of everything. The end of her daughter's happiness, the end of a dream that should have lasted forever. She flied immediately to Seattle to be close to Carol and to try and bring her back to Chicago, but when she arrived there, she could hardly recognize her own daughter. The accident had been a real shock for Carol, the world had collapsed around her and her life was in pieces again. She refused to eat, to talk, she was only a ghost, but Helen managed to bring her back to Chicago. She felt confident that in this way she could help her, but things had been getting worse and worse. Until one day Carol left without saying a word. Helen called the police but they refused to intervene before the statutory 24 hours from the disappearance. But a girl who was jogging in the park found her and called the ambulance.


While waiting for Helen Hathaway to arrive, Luka was looking at Carol from outside her room. His eyes were red; he was forcing himself not to cry. He heard someone getting close and turned his face to see Sam right behind him. "Are you ok?" she asked him. "Yes." He was in no mood for talking. "Did you know her well?" He remained silent for a moment. "We were friends... I need a breath of air". Then he headed to the ambulance bay. He needed to be alone.


Few minutes later Carol recovered consciousness, she looked around for a while before realizing where she was. Sam noticed that she was awake and called Pratt. He explained to her that her heart was seriously damaged and that sooner or later she would need a transplant. He was expecting some kind of reaction; instead Carol looked at him for a moment, and then turned her head away without saying anything. It seemed like she wasn't hearing his words, or maybe she didn't want to hear them. He left the room and asked Sam to order a psychiatric consultation. "Is it necessary?" she asked. "Just restrict yourself to carrying out orders." He knew that Kovac would be against it, but she was her patient and it was up to him to decide.


Doc. Robertson came down from psychiatry for a consultation: they called him for a woman, probably manic-depressive. Those were the worst patients, because there were not willing to listen. He looked at the woman from outside the room: she was very thin and looked quiet. He entered and introduced himself; he started with the usual generic questions, like name and age, but as expected, she was showing no sign of listening. Luka was watching from outside. In the attempt of rousing some kind of reaction, he told her that if she wasn't willing to cooperate he would be forced to call for admission in a psychiatric hospital. But Carol's reaction was more than he expected. All the anger, the disillusion, the sadness, the despair exploded all of sudden. "What right do you have to decide for my life? You don't know anything about me, about my life! You don't know what I've been going through and how I am feeling! You have no right to judge me and no right to keep me here!" Luka entered in a rush, trying to calm her down, but she was already desperately trying to remove the needles and tubes. While trying to prevent her from doing it, Luka scratched seriously his arm with the needle and to avoid further troubles he ordered to tie her wrists with the constraint belts and to give her a high dose of sedative. She was in tears and desperate, she kept on saying that she didn't want to live and she didn't want anybody's help, then the sedative finally started to act and she fell asleep.


Sam was stitching up Luka's arm: the accident cost him seven stitches. He was silent, lost in his thoughts. She thought he'd need to talk about it and try to start a conversation. "Do you wish to talk about it?" Luka remained silent. "It's really horrific what happened to her... You probably know far too well what she's going through... You're not going to tell anything about it, right? ... Ok, I shut up." Maybe it was better this way; it was a bad day and she didn't really want to grieve over the misadventure of someone she didn't even know. "I'm sorry" finally Luka decided to say something "It's just that we were close friends in the past and it's hard to see her in those conditions". In that moment he didn't want to share with no one else the mixed feelings of friendship and love that he used to feel for her until she left for Seattle. For one year she'd been his best friend, they'd shared a lot of things together and used to get along so well, they could understand each other so easily that it was hard to believe that they were just friends. When she left, he was lost. For some time it was like he'd lost a piece of himself. It wasn't easy to share that kind of feelings.


When Carol woke up, Pratt tried to take advantage of her seeming calmness to convince her to sign the permission to list her for a transplant. "I don't need a new heart. Why do you want to waste a healthy heart with someone who doesn't want to live? There are so many people who may need it. I don't." He gave up. "Ok, it's your life. Do you wanna through it away? Well, then do it. That's not my business." While leaving the room he met Luka. "How is she?" He briefly recapped the conversation, telling that there was nothing more they could do. "Let me do a try. Let me talk to her." "Try if you wish, but you're wasting your breath. She wants to die. Full stop!" He entered and sat beside her. He was holding the form for the transplant list permission.
"Did I hurt you?" Her voice was quiet and soft.
"Well, seven stitches. Not bad, I would say." The tone of his voice was light-hearted.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean...."
"I know, I know, don't worry...." He looked at her, trying to understand if he could broach the subject. "How are you?"
"A little bit muzzy."
"It's due to the sedative, maybe the dose was a little bit exaggerate" he laughs. Carol was staring at him, seriously, without saying anything. Then she looked down at her wrists: she was trying to move her hands but couldn't. Luka tried to explain, "It's necessary... it's for your own good..." She kept on looking at her wrists. He had to talk about the transplant. "Carol, do you feel clear enough to talk about a serious matter?" Carol nodded. "Ok... I know far too well what you're going through. I've been through it before and I must confess that several times I wished I was dead with my family, I really wished to end it all. But then things change, Carol. What you want know, you could not want it anymore in a year or two." He hesitated for a moment. "Would you mind doing an agreement?" Carol stares at him with a questioning look." The waiting list for a heart transplant is quite long, one or two years. When the time comes, you will decide what to do, you are not forced to undergo the transplant, it will be your own choice. Listen to me, Carol. You could regret it. Sign the permission." Carol remained silent, but he could see she was meditating on his words. "And where does the agreement lie?"
"In return I will do everything I can to avoid the admission in the psychiatric hospital. I don't believe you need it and I don't believe you wanna spend the rest of your days in an asylum: once you are in, you don't leave anymore. And don't even think it would be a good occasion to let yourself die, 'cause you'll be constantly under control, that's how it works. Please, listen to me. I know you feel desperate now, but things will change. Don't throw your life away." Carol was staring at him, she was considering his words, but the pain she was feeling was stronger than any other thing. He was unsure whether he could insist or leave her time to think about it. "What.... what are you going to do?" he asked with a soft voice. Carol hesitated, she didn't know if she was doing the right thing, if he was right, if one day she could really regret it. One thing she knew: she could trust him. After all, she wasn't forced to undergo the transplant, when the time comes she will decide what to do. "Maybe that time will never come" she thought. "I cannot sign like this", she showed her wrists. Luka was not sure he could trust her right now, she was still under sedative and quiet, but what about later? What if she would try again to leave? "Promise that you are not going to play another joke, that you are not trying to leave. Once you are out of here you'll be in the position to do whatever you want, but since you are here, it's our responsibility if something happens. You won't try to leave, will you?" "I promise."
He untied the belts and drew the chart up to her so that she could sign the form.
"Good. You see, one day you'll thank me for this. Now I have to go, but I'll come back later to see you. Now get some rest." Carol didn't reply. He kissed her on the forehead and left. He met Pratt in the hallway. "Here's your permission." Pratt stared blankly at the signed form: he couldn't believe that Kovac really managed to convince her. Maybe the psychiatrist was wrong, maybe the psychiatric admission wasn't necessary. While he was considering the situation, Luka was already talking to Doc. Robertson. The psychiatrist wasn't completely convinced and proposed a second talk: if the results were the same as for the previous one, he would order an immediate admission. For some reason, Luka was sure that this time would be better.

(End of part one)