Luka pushed his dinner tray away and picked up the remote. Not that he expected to find anything worth watching. Hospitalization was definitely beginning to grate. He'd been here barely a week, and was more than ready to go home. Or, he would be more than ready if his body would hurry up and heal. "Maybe Monday," Donald had said that morning. "That's a good target to aim for, anyway." Five more days.

Of course, going home would only solve half the problem. What he really wanted was to be able to go back to work, and that was, he knew, a lot more than five days away. Five weeks ... if he was lucky. Until he went back to work, though, there would be little to occupy his mind. Little to distract him from the memories of what had happened. He'd keep seeing, in his memory, the glint of light on the gun; feeling his blood on his hand … and hearing Brian say softly, "Shall I tell you how she screamed?" Not that any of this should bother him so much. He was getting well, slowly but surely. And, most important, Abby was getting well too. She hadn't been badly hurt. Her bruises were fading, her stitches had come out yesterday. She was always cheerful, always ready to distract him from his own pain, his own problems. Abby's bruises were fading, but Luka still winced every time he saw his own chest, the staples holding the incision closed. This too would heal, he knew, but there would always be a scar there to remind him of what had happened.

Abby would be here soon. The days were long and dull, Abby was working again, so only stopped by briefly on her breaks. And, besides Abby, he'd had only a few other visitors. Short, dutiful visits opening with "You're looking well," and closing with "Well, I don't want to tire you too much, Luka, so I'd better be going," and not much in between. Luka slept as much as he could, to make the time go faster.

But Abby came by every evening after work, and stayed until visiting hours ended and the floor nurse threw her out. Abby didn't talk much either, truth be told, and he still wasn't really up to long conversations -- they did tire him. But just having her here was nice. They didn't have to talk.

A tap on the door. That was odd, Abby never bothered to knock. She knew he was expecting her.

"Come in."

The door opened. It was Carter. Luka was surprised. Most people from the ER had come by, if only for that required visit, but he hadn't yet seen Carter.

"I wondered if you were ever going to visit," Luka said cheerfully.

"I did come by a few times those first two or three days. You were, unfortunately, asleep at the time."

"Sure, sure ... and you have proof of this?"

"Ask the nurses." Carter smiled and sat down in the chair. For a moment there was silence.

Luka knew that Carter had been on duty when he'd been brought in. His memories of that time were still scant and hazy, but he remembered Carter looking down at him, remembered the fear on his face. He should thank him, he thought ... but would Carter want thanks? He'd been, after all, just doing his job.

"How are you feeling?" Carter finally asked.

"Better than yesterday ... not so good as tomorrow."

"In other words, like crap, right?"

"Yeah. I definitely prefer being the doctor, not the patient."

"There are some days when being the doctor isn't much fun either." Carter looked away, but not before Luka saw a flicker of pain in his eyes.

"I've had a few of those too." It must have been horrible for Carter, Luka knew. But he didn't really want to talk about that right now. He tried to think of something else to say. "Donald says I'll be going home early next week."

"Will you be able to manage at home?" Carter sounded surprised. And Luka realized he hadn't really thought about that part. How would he manage at home? It was going to be a few weeks before he would be anywhere near 'well.' He'd have to hire someone, he thought.

But before he could think of how to answer Carter, a familiar voice came from the doorway, "Sorry I'm late." And suddenly there was a tension in the air, and a momentary silence that seemed to last forever.

"It's ok," Luka said, breaking the silence. "Carter stopped by. He's been keeping me company."

"Hi, Carter," Abby said, and the tension was clear in her voice.

"Abby."

"Look ..." Abby said, still standing in the doorway. "If you two want to talk some more, I'll run and get myself some dinner. I'll come back ..."

"No," interrupted Luka. "Come on in. You're welcome to finish my dinner." Carter had risen from the chair.

"I was actually just about to leave myself. I'd just stopped by for a minute. I'm already late for work." He turned back to Luka. "I'll drop by again soon; we'll have time to talk some more."

"Sure," Luka said.

"I'll see you later," Carter said to Abby, rather stiffly, Luka thought.

"Yeah," Abby replied, and sat down in the chair Carter had just vacated. And there was silence until Carter had left, closing the door behind him.