Chapter Three

It was over- finally over. She was done with Carter's self righteousness, his supposed perfection. Most of all, she was tired of him trying to twist her into what he thought she should be.

It had been the hardest week she'd had to endure for a while. Keeping a secret from Carter hadn't been as difficult as she thought. He was still holding a grudge from the last fight; so they barely spoke. No, rather it had been the few times she had seen Luka. They ran into each other in the hall, worked a patient or a trauma together. He would meet her eyes for a second and then both would look away. It was almost as though they had never been friends. Never been lovers. Never anything more than awkwardly professional- if there was such a thing. But there was a warmth in his eyes when he looked at her that betrayed his feelings. There was a slight shake in her hands when he was close by.

"You know, he still watches you when you aren't looking, Abby." Carter started, as they drove away from the hospital. "I think he's still in love with you. It's pathetic, really." He chuckled.

"Who?" She asked, barely listening.

"Luka." He said, as though stating the obvious. She feigned indifference.

"So?"

"So? He's your ex- boyfriend; don't you think that's a little weird? It's been, what, two years?"

"Year and a half, actually." She said softly. Carter looked over at her, shocked.

"Are you counting now?" She rolled her eyes.

"Just because I actually know how long it's been doesn't mean I'm pining away for him." She ignored the voice in her head that told her she still wanted him, that she still missed him. "You were so wrapped up with Susan Lewis- I'm surprised you even know when we broke up. And Carter?"

"What." He snapped.

"Green really isn't your color, Carter." She smiled sweetly.

She got out of the car and made her way to the stairwell. She heard Carter slam the car door. It was funny how they managed to jump straight from work to arguing. A bit like skipping from one battle to another, really.

"I'm not jealous! What do I have to be jealous about? I have you, Luka doesn't." She stared at him, mouth open.

"Tell me you didn't just say that! I'm not some damn trophy." He opened the door; she could see his jaw was clenched.

"Of course not, more like a consolation prize." She slapped him as he came in behind her. "What did you do that for?" Carter yelled at her. She threw her stuff down onto the couch.

"Do you even have to ask? I can't believe I left him for this. At least he was better in bed." She relished in dealing that blow to Carter's oversized ego.

"But he didn't understand you. For all of his supposed wonderful traits, your brooding Croat can't even get that right. I wonder if it's because he's still mourning his wife. Maybe it's because all he cares about is screwing women, not actually building a relationship. Hmm?"

"He married her and he loved her- that counts for a hell of a lot more than all of your failed relationships."

"And I suppose you're some sort of expert on the matter? You're divorced, remember? Your mother was divorced, too, wasn't she?"

"This isn't about my mother. This is about us, what's left anyway."

"Giving up, again, Abby? Running away?" He taunted her.

"I'd have to be a masochist to stay with you. I'm never going to be good enough for you, am I? I'll always be an alcoholic, a smoker, and a nurse. I'll always have the bipolar family and the ex- husband. I'm done." She finished quietly.

"Does it always have to be about you?"

"No. You're the one who's always made it about me and my problems. Just leave and for once can you just go without making a fuss." That shut him up. He picked up his coat and walked out the door. With a sigh, she leaned against the door.

She took her first real breath in three months. That's how long she'd been drinking, how long they'd been fighting, how long Richard had been remarried. He was happy. She was happy for him.

A part of her, however, told her she should be where he is. He had a house, a kid, a wife, and an M.D. She, on the other hand, still had a one- room apartment, a "terminated pregnancy" to her credit, and a friend- turned- boyfriend. To top it all off, she was a nurse; and let's not forget that she had stopped med school a year from finishing. And so she started drinking? Why? To prove that she could do something right? No. Maybe to be able to say that her life was a complete failure. She wasn't really sure.

It didn't matter now, really. Didn't matter what had brought her to this point. Just mattered that she was here. Standing outside of a liquor store with a bottle of vodka in hand. No she didn't drink to forget. Not at all. She was celebrating. Alone.

Her apartment was empty- as she expected it to be. She didn't miss Carter (actually, it was nice to be free of that particular milestone). Instead she missed someone else. Tall. Dark. And so she drank to him. To her brooding ex- boyfriend. To her faithful protector. To her workplace friend and her passionate one- night stand. To the one person she could say she loved almost as much as alcohol. For Carter she lit a cigarette, fags they called them in England. She really needed to quit.

It was later much later. A quarter of the vodka was gone. It wasn't a big bottle, but still- she was pleasantly tipsy. Not a light was on. The moon bathed the place in an ethereal glow. She lit another cigarette, last one for the night. She almost dropped the damn thing when a knock at the door startled her. She opened it. Light from outside spilled into the room and silhouetting the man standing there. It was him.

"Luka."

"Hey." He explained his presence before she could ask. "My shift just finished. I was thinking about you... so I thought I'd come and see how you are." She nodded, turning a lamp on.

"Come in, please." She sat back down on the couch and he followed. "Would you like something to drink?" She offered, holding up a shot of vodka. He shook his head.

"Trying to quit, actually." She shrugged.

"Your loss." She winked at him and drank it down. He watched her, his expression turning serious.

"Listen, Abby, I came here to talk about the other night. Now that I'm here, I don't really think that's such a good idea." He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I will say this, though, because I still care about you. He told me… about your drinking. I'm not going to tell you what to do. You're a big girl. But this isn't what you want your life to be, is it? You deserve more, Abby, so much more."

"Maybe this is my lot in life. I'm not a happy person, Luka. I had a shitty childhood and a life full of regret and failure." In spite of the alcohol, she felt clear- headed. She saw him, then, finally understood the look in his eyes. Loneliness. Heartbreak. He was her fallen hero. "But I'm tired of things being about me, Luka. I'm not fine, I've got issues. We've established that. I want to know about you. Are you okay?" He laughed, but it was hollow and mirthless.

"No, I'm not. Not sure I've ever been fine since… well, since they died. Definitely not since I lost you. But it's more than that. More complicated than that." He stared down at his hands, pain etched on his face. "I don't know who I am anymore. I've lost myself in a world of drinking and women." He looked up at her with sad, troubled eyes. "I can't feel anything, Abby." It was then that she took him into her arms and, like in that hotel room so many months ago, he kissed her.

A/N: Just so I don't get pelted for the contradiction in these last two chapters. When Luka said "a week without her," he was referring to not being with her in a romantic sense, or even as just friends. Just thought I'd clear that up. This is the end (unless you can convince me to go on). Thank you all for your encouragement and comments and I'm sorry it was so short.