Heh. So I stepped away from this fic for a while, hoping to come back with a fresh perspective. I worked on this chapter for a long time, to the point where I couldn't tell up from down in terms of pacing and quality. I know how I wanted it to sound, but it just wasn't working. And my muse was just being a total bitch. It was tough. And you know, ER hasn't exactly been that inspirational of late ;) But I'm back, and hopefully with a vengeance. I am determined to keep going with this fic not only because I love it, but because I have so much more story to tell and there was no way in hell I could leave everyone hanging like that. This chapter was tricky, being as introspective and angsty as it is, but I had a lot of fun writing it. Hope you all enjoy it.

Liz

Chapter Thirteen – Snap

"So what would you tell your boyfriend if he were here today?" the host asked, her glossy lips pressed together in feigned concern.

The young girl looked up into the camera, her eyes watering. "I'd tell him that my baby isn't his, that it was a result of my alien abduction," she confessed quietly, gently patting her rounded stomach. Clutching at the fabric of her black dress, she added earnestly, "but I'd tell him that I hope we can work through it. I love him very much, and I know he feels the same."

"Well, Jenna, we have a surprise for you," the host told her. She looked conspiratorially into the camera as if about to divulge a secret. The muscles in her face barely moved. Bad Botox. "Your boyfriend is here today. In fact, he's backstage right now. Let's bring him out!" An unseen audience clapped and cheered.

Sam stared at her television screen in morbid fascination. Where do they get these people? she wondered, agog.

She looked on as Jenna proceeded to tell her boyfriend that no, her baby was not his but the product of her union with a masked extraterrestrial from Alpha Centauri.

This is the kind of quality programming I miss when I'm at County? Sam thought sarcastically. I should just tell Susan to keep me on night shift.

Carefully balancing her bowl of cereal, she grabbed the remote and switched channels. Cooking show. Whatever.

Sighing, she placed the remote beside her and spooned more cereal into her mouth. It was Oreo-O's, bought in a moment of sugar-deprived weakness. Guaranteed to contain nothing typically found in nature, the box gamely tried to proclaim that the cereal was nutritious, but who were they kidding? She was basically eating a bowl of cookies with milk. Just the way breakfast should be.

Switching her attention back to the TV, she tried in vain to share the onscreen chef's enthusiasm for the pasta he was cooking – although, she thought ruefully, if I was getting paid as much as he probably is, I'd be pretty darn excited, too. In truth, all she could think about was her son.

She had woken far too late. But she had spent the entire night playing out worst-case scenarios in her head and that nightmare about Alex, Steve and Luka had left her shaken until the early hours of the morning. She had fallen asleep without even realizing it. I should have been up to check the answering machine for messages from the police, she thought, furious at herself. Granted, there hadn't been any, but she felt terrible nonetheless. The last time she had slept until noon was after a night of drinking and partying with Steve and his deadbeat friends. She had been barely sixteen at the time. Not for the first time, Sam felt disgusted at the thought of how she had behaved back then, when the idea of Steve and love had seemed so attractive. Hell, she'd believed they'd get married one day. White dress, big church, the works. What a fool she had been.

But she had to admit there was a part of her that still clung to that hopelessly adolescent fantasy. And Luka had seemed the perfect guy to share it with – one day. But now that dream had pretty much evaporated and she knew she was as much to blame for that as he was. Maybe even more so. And now Alex was missing.

She glanced over at the telephone on the kitchen counter, as if she had somehow missed it ringing while she was watching TV or lost in thought. She knew there was little chance of that, however. The television had proved a welcome distraction from worrying for all of five minutes. The state of mind she was in, she would have heard that phone buzz under ten feet of concrete.

She looked at her watch. God, it was already past four o'clock. Admittedly, it had taken her the better part of the day to find the strength to crawl out of bed, take a shower and face reality. The temptation to grab the phone, burrow under the covers and stare at the ceiling, wallowing in self-pity, had been overwhelming. But Sam knew that would have only made her feel worse – as if that's even possible at this point, she reflected despondently.

Casting her bowl aside, she held her head in her hands as if it were going to explode. She was exhausted despite the restless sleep she had managed the night before. She was running on pure adrenaline and she knew it.

Sam needed Luka. Things just seemed to make more sense, decisions seemed to be easier to make when he was around. He always seemed to know the right thing to say, hard as it might be to do so. It pained her to admit, having promised herself long ago that she would never again fall in love, never go down that path a second time. But Fate was a stubborn little thing and sometimes it felt like she was calling all the shots.

She hated this. She'd built up a thick skin over the years – she hadn't had much of a choice – and all of this? Well, it reminded her that she wasn't invincible. And it hurt.

She finished her cereal and went to place the bowl in the kitchen sink. She didn't cry, though. And she wouldn't. Sam promised herself in that moment that she would not cry over Alex's disappearance again. Not unless the unthinkable happened.

But as soon as she made that promise, Sam knew that she would almost certainly break it.

It was just that she felt so useless. Her son was lost and there was nothing she could do about it. She had no idea where he was going or if he was even still in Chicago. All she could do was sit by the phone. She had never felt this helpless, not even when Steve had left her all those years ago, pregnant and alone.

She clenched her fists at her side, trying desperately not to lash out, to scream, to sob – to do anything other than just sit here. Her throat was killing her and she was bone-weary. All she wanted was to wake up and discover that this had all been a terrible dream.

The trill of the phone snapped her out of her reverie.

Jerking her head towards to sound, she darted out from behind the sink and snatched up the phone. She didn't even stop to look at the caller ID. Oh God, oh God, oh God…

"Hello?" she breathed out.

"Sam, it's Jerry."

She deflated. "Oh, hi, Jerry. Listen, is someone a no-show? Because if you need me to come in tonight, I'm not going to be able to…"

Jerry cut her off mid-sentence. "That's not why I'm calling." He sounded tense, a quality she was not used to hearing in his voice.

"What is it?" she asked, bracing herself for the worst.

He didn't disappoint.

"It's Alex, Sam. He was just brought in. The homeless pick-up found him. It… it looks pretty bad."

Sam felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. All the air left her body. A deep, soul-wrenching grief settled on her chest. She tried to take a breath, but her chest was constricted. She felt dizzy, disoriented, her throat aching with unshed tears. It took every ounce of her self-control not to pass out.

"I understand," she choked out. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Thanks."

She didn't so much hang up as drop the receiver.

Gasping for air, she stumbled over to the coffee table and grabbed Luka's car keys. She barely registered slipping them into her pocket. She could barely feel her feet touching the ground. It's okay, everything will be okay, it's okay, we're okay, he's okay…

It wasn't until she was placing her hand on the doorknob, poised to fly out the front door, that all the thoughts that had been running through her mind simply collapsed in upon themselves. All the strength left her then, and for a few seconds, Sam simply stood there in the doorway, leaning against the frame for support. "Please God, no," she whispered. "Not now."

Outside, the angry red rays of the sun had only just begun to settle on the horizon.