Disclaimer: I remember reading someone's disclaimer here on FF once, and I liked it, so whoever you are, I'm quoting you: "I own nothing, just my Luka and Abby shaped cookies." I think you get the point, I do not own Luka or Abby sadly! Oh and the words in italics and with central alignment are lyrics from Greenday – Give Me Novocaine, they're not mine either!
Dedication: As ever, this story is dedicated to Josefin, Alice, Elissa, Tani, and Andy but I also dedicate this to the new entries of Kenzie and Karissa. All of you are amazing, sweet, lovely people and make me smile. Thank you guys, for everything, I love you all!
Thanks: I want to say a massive thank you to my wonderful reviewers (Josefin-, Andy2301, BeautifulWreck, Peaky, Alik22, CocaCola1052, strumpfhase, LLF, Muskoka Girl, CarbyLivesOn, Moonlight Enchantments, trillion kisses) because your comments make an enormous difference and give me a HUGE boost of confidence and encourage me to keep writing:)
WARNING: This is going to be completely different from usual, and is supposed to be dark and sinister. I don't think I succeeded, but I did try though! Abby isn't mentioned directly in this chapter, but don't loose faith my lovely Lubies, she is there, all the time. That didn't make much sense did it? Oh dear! I'll explain next chapter!
Ooh yeah! I have had to research a lot for this chapter but as we don't know all that much about Luka's past, I've had to be a bit creative! I tried to keep as close to the truth as I could, but I –make- a few things up, I hope that's okay!
I also want to add that I make Luka out to be to blame in this chapter, but THAT IS NOT MY OWN VIEW! I'm just trying to portray Luka's demons and the immense guilt he carries from the incident. PLEASE DON'T EAT ME!
Croatia.
Vukovar.
If only he hadn't been so stubborn. If only he hadn't been so selfish. If only he had known that his decision to finish his internship would end like that. If only he had heeded the advice that was given. If only he had taken them away from there. If only he had not left the apartment that morning; not left them alone. If only the bomb hadn't hit.
If only.
1991.
The year his world came crumbling down around him. Four numbers maliciously bound together to form one date, - just one, were enough to tear his life into tatters and send them fluttering down around him. A date carved into his mind, impressed into his soul, never to be forgotten, always to be feared.
Protection.
All he ever wanted to do was protect them, he just didn't know how to. Heaven knows he'd tried; He'd kept them cooped up inside their tiny apartment, imprisoned in the building, and saw as they fidgeted and whined, irritable and suffering from Cabin Fever as a result of not being unable to go outside for such a long time. He knew they hated it, and he hated to see it, but he didn't know what else to do to protect them. He did what he thought was right, all he could think of doing. He did all that he could.
Safety.
He should have saved them, that was what he was supposed to do. He could have saved them earlier if he had taken them away from there, if he hadn't waited until it was too late and too unsafe to leave. It was his fault, he knew that. There was nothing he could do to change that, it was his fault and it always would be.
A wife and two children, gone. Just like that, gone. In one blink of an eye, gone. Gone forever. Gone.
He'd only planned to be gone for a few minutes; he had only gone out to get some food. When he left the apartment that morning he left his life behind, never to be seen again. Had he known what was going to happen, he never would have left.
A son. Marko. Two years old. Gone.
He was so small, so little, so vulnerable. He never even had a chance. As soon as the shell hit, Marko's short, short life was ended instantly. He was so young; he hadn't even experienced life properly. All he had been granted was a nibble, a sip of life, and boy did he have a thirst for it. He absorbed life, all aspects of it, always looking around; trying to drink in something more, he was such an inquisitive child, always loving simply being himself, simply being alive. Marko's face never seen without a smile plastered across it, until that day. On that day, no smile was visible. All to be seen there was an expression of extreme anguish etched across his features as his tiny arms stretched out before him, reaching out for something, someone. Reaching out for the father who hadn't been there.
A daughter. Jasna. Four years old. Gone.
She was so kind, so sweet; she had so much to give. Jasna fought to hold onto her life, fought with all her might, she wasn't ready to go, it wasn't her time to go, she didn't want to go. Her frail form lay among the broken debris when he saw her. She was pale as death, her lips a splash of red on her otherwise colourless face. He pummelled upon her small chest with all the strength he could muster, the tears streaming down his face, splashing onto her closed eyelids, until all he could do was cradle her tiny body in his arms as his daughter took her final breaths.
A wife. A mother. Danijela. Gone.
She was so beautiful, so loving; she never had a harsh word to say about anyone. Danijela had been his first love. The moment he had seen her, he knew he loved her. He just knew. The memory he had of day they married was unbelievable, it was nearly as happy as the memories he had of the days on which Jasna and Marko were born. But that's all they were, memories. Memories that would only ever be memories, memories like the ones of his family that he would have to rely on after that day was over. He could have saved Danijela. Well maybe, but maybe not. He wasn't technically a doctor then; he might be able to now, but back then? He wasn't sure. Who are you kidding Luka? You could have saved her but you didn't. You didn't even try. You tried to save Jasna first, and while you did, your wife, the mother of your children, the woman you loved, died. She bled out, spending her very last moments in agony and alone, praying for her children, praying for the husband who wasn't there.
You should have been there, but you weren't.
You should have saved them, but you didn't.
Now they're all gone.
