Disclaimers: I don't own ER, Luka or Carter.
Author's Notes: I know I said a new chapter depended on reviews, but it suited my mood, so I wrote another anyhow.
He rocked his son in his arms, and looked over to the love of his life, sitting in a nearby chair, reading a newspaper. In French, of course. She looked up at him and smiled, her eyes dark and flashing, glowing with love, with happiness. She knew where he had been, what he had been through, but had not been there to see it, so it was easy for her, easy to accept it as a part of him, not to forget, but not to remember either. Everything was so calm, so happy, so light. Somehow, it wasn't untill she walked over and kissed him that he realized it was only a dream, a wonderful dream, but a dream none the less.
His son and daughter ran around, playing tag, or some silly equivilent. All over the world, children played tag. It was like it was ingrained into them, instinctual. His wife was at the counter, kneading dough for a loaf of fresh bread. Everyone's here, he realized, everything's safe. Somehow, it wasn't untill his two children came in, carrying a rather scruffy looking stray pup and begging to keep it that he realized it was only a dream, a wonderful dream, but a dream none the less.
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