Smashed
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys rule! Ummm… this chapter should have more Sam/Luka as Casey asked… other than that, I guess it's just up to you to actually read it lol.
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it… not a sausage… zilch! Except of course Bryony, and any other characters you don't recognise!
-
"Any normal person would've quit days ago," Clare spluttered, charcoal still coming from her mouth, "I should have,"
It made a nice change to be in the hospital but not dressed in a blue nurse's uniform, Sam decided, though she'd rather be at home with the kids. Correction: she'd rather be at home with Bryony. But no, she'd had to leave her daughter with Susan, who was on her well earned break, and left Alex at home. He's probably wrecked the house by now, she thought, pulling the warmth of her coat around her.
"I am so sorry it had to come to this, I know Alex can be such a pain in the…" Clare rested a shaky hand on Sam's shoulder.
"It's not your fault,"
Luka was looking at them talk through the glass. As a last minute thing, he'd had to step in for a few hours to cover for Carter, though he hadn't said why. It was probably better he stayed away from Sam and her problems, or at least for now. She and Alex could sort things out on their own, it was better he didn't interfere.
"You okay?" Luka turned round to see Susan stood behind him, Bryony resting on her hip.
Luka nodded, "I'm fine," He looked down at his daughter, "Want me to take her?"
Susan carefully handed the child to Luka. She hadn't noticed that a big red patch had appeared on her coat, looking suspiciously like blood… not that it was unusual in a hospital. Luka gestured towards it.
"You might want to sort that,"
Susan looked down, "That wasn't there before…"
A look of worry crossed the Croatian's face, as he held out his daughter, Susan lifting up her little blue dress, which was decorated with a clown, and yellow stitches. Sure enough, her little white tights were splattered with blood.
-
"Don't blame this on me, I told you but you wouldn't listen," Alex leant on the car as his Mom lifted Bryony out of her car seat, "You hung up on me,"
Luka shook his head, closing the car door as Sam carried their daughter up the front steps to their reasonably new apartment, "Ever heard of the boy who cried wolf?"
Sam walked into the living room, putting down Bryony, who was now dressed in a pink dress with a red sweater over the top, and was wearing one tiny pink shoe, "Alex, go to your room,"
"Whatever,"
With Alex out of the way, and it getting near to Bryony's bed time, Luka decided on some time alone with his soon-to-be-wife, who was currently picking up broken plastic from the carpet, where Bryony had obviously been earlier in the day. Luka sat himself down on the couch, watching his daughter innocently playing with her foot. Then, off came the remaining shoe.
"Now I see how she does it,"
Sam laughed, turning to look at the scene on the couch for a moment, before her attention being suddenly brought back to the plastic on the floor, and the blood dripping from her finger, "Shit!"
"You okay?" Luka asked, looking up from Bryony, "Need help?"
"I think I can handle a cut finger, I am a nurse after all,"
Luka smiled, "Yes, and the best one in County,"
He stood up, bending down next to her. The cut wasn't deep, but it was still bleeding quite a lot. Taking Sam's hand, he planted a gentle kiss on the cut finger, and looked up into her eyes. Still holding her hand, he helped her up.
"What about the…" Sam looked at the pile of plastic in front of the TV.
"It can wait," Luka said softly, putting his arms round Sam's waist.
Sam turned herself round to face him, his arms still round her, and hers gently round his neck. She was about to pull him in for a kiss, when out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bryony giggling, trying to eat the television remote.
"BRYONY!" Letting go of Luka, she pulled the set of buttons away from her, picking her up from the couch and going into the bedroom with her.
Luka sunk down into the couch again, leaning back, eyes closed. He hardly noticed Sam come out of their room, closing the door quietly behind her, and it was only when she sat on his lap that he opened his eyes, realizing her presence. Tired, she leant into him, burying her head in his jacket, her arm round him.
"Tired?"
She looked up into his eyes, "You could say that,"
He kissed her softly, before letting her fall back into his warmth, eyes closed again. Sighing, he kissed the top of her head. Their life may have its ups and downs, but he couldn't wish for anything better.
-
The sunlight poured in through the cracks in the blinds, casting stripy shadows all across the beige wall in the lounge, and lighting up the large room, making the mirror in the hallway send glittering splashes of light across. It was a perfect morning, cool but not too cold, sunny but not so it blinded. Not that Luka and Sam could complain anyway, fast asleep in each other's arms.
"Mom?"
Sam opened one eye, peering at Alex who was stood in front of her turning himself almost upside down so he was eye level with her. She sighed. Still in his pyjamas, and as annoying as ever, Alex had tried to get Bryony and himself breakfast, resulting in cereal mayhem. Just past him, Bryony sat in her highchair, milk splashed down her dress (she was still wearing the one from the night before) and a huge grin on her face.
"Alex, look at the mess you've made!" Luka moaned, now also awake.
Sam stood up and stretched sleepily, "It's okay, he was just trying to help," She kissed her son giving him a hug. He pulled a face, wriggling free.
The phone rang, and Luka reached across to grab it. Grimacing, he answered, every now and then saying yes. Not really paying attention, Sam went over to clean up Bryony and gather the dishes.
"Sam? I think you need to hear this,"
He looked serious. Deadly serious. Putting Bryony back in her seat, Sam crossed over to where Luka was sitting, flopping down next to him, a worried look on her face. Whoever it had been on the phone, it had been important.
"I'll cut to the chase… that was Carter," Luka cleared his throat, "Clare's dead,"
To Be Continued…
