Disclaimer: All characters in this story are the property of NBC, Warner Brothers, John Wells, and whoever else. I just borrow them and promise to return them. Don't worry, I won't hurt them. I make no money off these fics, I write them for fun.

Feedback is always appreciated-> DougandCarol@hotmail.com

Writer's Notes: Follows Part 8 immediately. Still heavy angst, as Abby has a *long* road ahead of her.

Big thanks to Carolina and Shannon who give me great idea’s and take a look at these fics before they’re done, telling me how I’m doing! Thanks guys!!

++++++++++++++++++

I never dreamed I could cry so hard
That ain't like a man
I could fly like a bird somedays
Had a place where I could land

++++++++++++++++++++

She'd continued to cry for over an hour. He had reached out again, and again, trying to touch her, and she continued to push him away. The look on her face remained one of pure terror. Her body had shook, the tears fell, the color in her face drained. Her breath became labored; she had coughed and choked, and sobbed. He had wanted to hold her, just wrap his arms around her and assure her everything would be ok. But he couldn't, he couldn't hold her, hug her, kiss her. He couldn't tell her he loved her, couldn't lay near her in bed, touch her stomach to feel their baby kick. He longed for when he could do all of that again.

By the time she had fallen asleep on the couch, her face was a deep color of red, stained with the tears that had fallen from her eyes. She had all but cried herself to sleep, her head resting against the pillow behind her head. Her casted arm lay next to her, her other arm lay across her chest, her fingers dangling freely. The newly decorated Christmas tree shimmered behind her, against the opposite wall.

Luka stood in the doorway, watching her. His arms were folded tightly in front of his chest, his black sweatshirt pulling tightly on him, being bunched by the folding under his arms. He watched her face, he watched her breathe. He watched her every movement, every moment he was near her. Freeing his arms, he walked quietly across the carpeted floor and grabbed a blanket that hung along the back of the couch. Unfolding it, he laid it across Abby's body, pulling it down over her feet, picking up the Christmas ornament that had been dropped earlier. He looked again at the inscription and carried it to the tree. He hung it on a high branch, right next to a blue light. The reflection against the red ornament glowed in the dim room.

Checking to make sure she was covered one last time, Luka put his hand to his lips, and then to her cheek gently. It was the closest he could get to kissing her, to touching her skin. Walking quietly from the room, he shuffled into the kitchen and turned the light on over the island in the center. Grabbing the phone from the counter, he punched in a number he had only called once before. It rang only once before a deep voice on the other end answered.

"Hello?" the voice asked.

"Hello, Eric?" Luka replied quietly, reaching in front of him for a small stack of envelopes. They were all bills, from banks, credit card companies, etc..

"Luka?" Eric replied, coughing on the other end. "Is everything alright?" he asked. "How is Abby doing?"

Luka sighed, tossing the junk mail from the pile into the nearby trashcan. "She's sleeping right now."

"Oh."

"I want her to see a therapist." Luka whispered, getting off the stool and walking toward the counter where he stuck the bills in the pile along with the other, older one's.

"I was going to suggest that." Eric replied. "Has she opened up at all?"

"She had a flashback earlier tonight. This is hurting me more than I thought it would. She won't let me help her. I try to help her and she pulls away, or tells me to leave her alone." He said, grabbing a can of soda from the refrigerator.

"She still won't let you touch her?"

"No."

Eric paused, as he watched the TV screen in his own living room. "Therapy would really help I'd bet." He replied. "She needs time."

"I know that. But I hate seeing her the way she is. She is afraid to leave our bedroom. I got her to come downstairs today for the first time and that is when the flashbacks started."

"Maybe that's progress?" Eric suggested.

"I think I'm going to speak with Dr. Legaspi at the hospital. I cannot watch her suffer alone anymore. I want her to trust me, and to know that I would never hurt her."

"She's had a hard time all her life Luka, this just adds to it even more." Eric replied.

"Don't you think that I know that?" Luka replied. "I love her Eric, I want to help her."

Eric nodded to himself, turning from his television. "I love her too. She's my sister."

Luka went silent. He didn't know what to say anymore. His eyes went to the clock and watched it tick away. "Eric, I remember awhile ago Abby mentioned that you had boxes of her old things in your attic." He said, remembering the conversation from months ago.

"Yeah, there are 5 or 6 of them up there." He replied. "Why?"

As he stood at the counter, pieces began to come together in his head. "She told me about a stuffed dog she had when she was a little girl.." Luka said, speaking softly, as he cranked his neck thru the doorway, making sure she was still asleep.

"Frankie?" Eric finished for him. He laughed on the other end of the phone. "I remember her carrying that thing with her everywhere."

Luka chuckled softly. "She mentioned it before. Umm.. do you think it is with her other things?" he asked.

"It's probably up there somewhere. Why?"

Luka swallowed, wondering if this idea was even worth it. "I was just thinking, if she got so much comfort from that dog as a child, maybe it would help her now." He said, almost sheepishly.

Eric nodded again, watching his cat run across the floor in front of his feet. "That might help.." he replied. "I could go and look now if you want."

"I would appreciate it." Luka replied. "The sooner I gave it to her, the sooner it could help."

"Yeah, ok. I'll go and look for it ok? If I find it, I'll send it out tomorrow ok?"

Luka started to grin, happy that Eric had agreed. "Ok, that sounds good. Thank you Eric."

"It's no problem. I just hope it will help her."

Luka nodded to himself in agreement. "So do I."

+++++++++++++++++++++++

But giving into the nightime
Ain't no cure for the pain
You gotta wade into the water
You gotta learn to live again

+++++++++++++++++++++++

The next few days seemed to be exact replicas of the days before them. Abby would wake up numerous times during the night, and go sit by the window. Then she would fall back to sleep in the chair. Luka would find her there in the morning, her head rested on the arm of the chair, her hand always on top of her stomach, as if it were permanently stuck there.

"Abby, we need to leave." Luka called up the stairs later that morning, pulling his thick coat over his shoulders. He waited for a response and got none. Gripping her coat in his arms, he walked up the stairway to their bedroom. "Abby.." he called again.

"I'm not going." She mumbled, her face buried in her arms.

"Abby, this will help you."

"I'm not a psycho, I don't need a therapist." She mumbled, lifting her head to watch him.

"Nobody said you were." Luka replied, sitting on the bed across from her. "He only wants to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk."

"Abby, please." Luka pleaded. "You said the other day you wanted to go."

"I don't want to go anymore."

"Abby, please come. You don't have to stay long."

"No."

Luka sighed and stood up. He knew deep down that no matter how hard she tried to convince him she didn't want to go, she actually did. He knew she wanted to heal, but couldn't do it alone.

"Come on Abby." He said again, holding the jacket out to her. "We don't have to stay the whole time."

"I said no Luka."

Luka sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. "Fine, ok. We don't have to go."

Abby just watched him; he still held the jacket in his hand. His face was very serious; she knew he wanted her to go. She knew she wanted to go. Reaching up with her unbroken arm, she took the coat from him. Her muscles ached as she pulled it on, he tried to help her put it on, and she again pushed him away, insisting she didn't need help, not to touch her.

"Abby, you know I'm doing this because I care about you." Luka whispered softly, as she got herself slowly off the bed. Her face was still as bruised and sad as it had been all along. Her movements were slow and labored, her eyes still as dark and sad as they had been since that night.

She didn't reply, she just silently walked from the room and down the stairs, taking them one by one, stopping on each step. Luka followed closely behind her, making sure she didn't lose her footing, and trip. When they reached the hallway, Abby stopped and leaned her body up against the wall. Her eyes shut tight, she took a deep breath and let out a sigh. Luka watched her as he took the house keys into his hands. Watching her like this wanted to make him cry, to scream. 3 weeks now and still nothing. No suspect, no motive, no improvement.

Arriving at the hospital, they had gone immediately up to the Psych ward and Abby wandered over to the small waiting area where she sat on one of the hard chairs and turned toward the fish tank that sat across from her. Her eyes became fixated on the fish, as they had on the Christmas lights only days before. She again became oblivious to the world around her, stuck in a trance, in a world only she knew about.

Luka signed in for her, and followed her to the waiting area. He watched as her attention became focused on the fish tank, and let out a deep sigh. He took a seat in the chair next to her, and she never even realized he was there. Her total focus was on the fish.

"Abby Kovac?" Dr. DeRaad called only a few moments later. He stood in the entryway to the room, holding a chart in his hands.

Luka looked up and immediately got to his feet when he heard Abby's name called. Abby didn't even turn, her gaze still in the fish tank.

"Abby?" Luka called, turning to her. "Abby?' he said again, touching her shoulder.

His touch provided an immediate reaction of her pulling away from him. She pulled her body back, turning her head from the direction of the fish tank to the direction of the light gray tile floor.

"Abby?" Dr. DeRaad called again, moving into the room, coming closer to her. Luka stood right next to her, watching her as she again began to gaze into the tank. He watched her reflection appear on the glass, the dark color of her bruises, the scars from her cuts….

She still didn't reply. She only turned to look at both men for a second, before turning away yet again. Her hand moved up to her face, and then back down by her side. "I want to go home." She mumbled.

Dr. DeRaad nodded as Luka put his hand over his mouth. He leaned down to become eye level with Abby, setting the chart on the floor next to him.

"How about you come into my office? We can talk in there." He suggested.

Abby didn't reply, she just turned to look at him. Her face held a cold stare, as stare that could only be described as one of pure fear. Slowly, she pulled herself from the chair and followed the doctor and Luka down the short hallway to his office.

"Dr. Kovac, I think for now, it would be best for me to talk with Abby alone." Dr. DeRaad told him, as he held the doorknob.

"I want to stay with her." Luka protested.

"I know. But it may be easier for me to talk with her, and to get her to open up if I speak with her alone." He explained. "You can wait right out here if you want."

"She needs me with her.."

"Don't worry. Dr. Kovac, I've dealt with rape victims, trust me."

Luka watched as he began to close the door. "Fine." He mumbled, stepping back, nodding his head.

Dr. DeRaad nodded him a reassuring nod and closed the door, leaving Luka to look at the dark colored wood.

Inside the office, Abby was curled up on the chair near Dr. DeRaad's desk, her head hung low, looking at the legs of her chair.

"How are you doing Abby?" Dr. DeRaad asked, pulling out a pen from his desk drawer.

She didn't reply. She just met his gaze again with her stare, and scratched her leg with her right hand.

"Ok, you don't have to talk." He assured her with a grin. He took a seat across from her, pulling a pad of paper from next to him. He thought for a moment of how to begin a conversation, to know she could trust him. "They said it's suppose to snow again later. My son is thrilled. He wants me to take him sledding this weekend."

Abby looked up to him, giving him an odd look. She scratched her leg again, a nervous habit she had picked up years ago.

"I just don't like it because it's so cold. I was thinking I would take him to play hockey over at the new place they just built. Have you seen it? It's a huge indoor sports complex."

"I've seen it." Abby mumbled, staring down at the dark purple color of her cast.

Dr. DeRaad nodded, crossing his legs in front of him. "Do you like hockey?" he asked.

Abby didn't even bothering looking at him, she hung her head low. "I never played." She mumbled. "But Eric always did."

He nodded, happy in getting a response. It was something. "Who is Eric?" he asked, hoping to get her to talk more.

She looked up, clearing her throat and sneezing. "My brother." She replied quietly. She sneezed again, taking a tissue from the hands of Dr. DeRaad.

"Does Eric live around here?"

"No."

"Where is he?"

"In Florida." She murmured, her eyes still avoiding all possible contact with his. She sneezed again, her body thrusting with great force as she did.

Luka sat outside the doctor's office with his legs crossed, on the hard tile floor. His hands were folded in his lap, his thumb playing with the wedding ring on his finger. He listened to the quiet murmurs that were seeping through the crack at the bottom of the door. Looking up, he took notice of the small bulletin board that held notices for all sorts of group therapy. There was one support group flyer that stood out and he got up on his feet and tore it from the clip. Reading it over quickly, he folded it up into a small square and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

Abby looked up at Dr. DeRaad and pursed her lips, turning them a light white color. Her eyes glared an icy stare, her zipper now pulled up to her neck. Her white sneakers ran across the tile in small circles, leaving a scuffmark behind.

She cleared the mucus from her throat and closed her eyes. She felt her hair drape down in front of her, shielding her from the outside world as she nodded her head back down again. It was her fortress, her protection. A ringing hummed in her ears, soft at first, then grew louder and louder.

"Abby, how are you feeling?" he asked, trying to get her to speak. "Have you been sleeping?"

A cold chill ran through her body, causing goose bumps to form on her arms, the hairs standing on end. "I sleep." She said.

"Enough?"

"I don't know."

"Has your doctor prescribed anything for you?" he asked gently, taking notes as they spoke to each other. He glanced quickly up at the clock and back to her. Her head still hung, her face covered by her dark hair.

"No."

"Ok." He said nodding.

"Can I leave?" she asked quietly, looking up for a moment. Her face was red and swollen, almost as if she had been crying.

Dr. DeRaad nodded, setting the chart down in his lap. "Abby, you can leave whenever you want. You chose to come here today, and you can choose to leave. But I'd really like to talk with you for a few more minutes."

She watched him, and took a deep breath. Turning her head toward the door, she nodded and fiddled with her jacket zipper again. "Fine." She whispered.

He smiled another smile of comfort and continued. He watched her movements for a moment, the way she played with her jacket, they way her hand kept wandering down to her stomach. How it would stop there for a few moments, and then she'd play with her zipper again.

"When is the baby due Abby?" he asked, looking to her small frame, where the pregnancy was becoming more and more visible each day.

She shivered in the cold, looking quickly to the window where the dark sky was overhead. Turning back to Dr. DeRaad, she coughed again and sighed.

"In April."

"Are you excited?" he asked, attempting to get her to speak more than one word. She watched him, knowing he was waiting for an answer.

"Luka's really happy." She mumbled, kicking her bag at her feet, knocking it over.

Dr. DeRaad nodded. "I'll bet. I remember when I found out my wife was pregnant with our son, how excited I was." He told her. "But what about you, are you excited?"

She sat silent for a minute, her gaze straight ahead, before her head began to nod slowly. She bit her lip as she did, her eyes closing. "Yes.."

He laughed very softly, making more notes. "Do you know if it's a boy or girl yet?" he asked.

She sighed and shook her head. "No."

He nodded. "Yeah, it's probably the best surprise you can get.. to wait that is." He stated. She didn't reply, just tugged at her jacket, shivering in the chilly air. "I really want to leave now." She said slowly, gripping her sleeve tightly.

He nodded. "Ok, that was a good session." He said, standing up, setting her chart down on his desk. "But I want to meet with you again Abby. Maybe next week after Christmas?" he suggested.

"Yeah, ok." She said, standing up, walking toward the door.

As the door swung open, Luka's head shot around as he got to his feet again, brushing his pants off. Abby walked slowly through the door, stopping halfway down the hallway, peering at photo's that hung on the wall.

"Did she talk to you?" Luka asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. His fingers hit his car keys, and he pushed them aside, pushing his hands even further in.

Dr. DeRaad nodded, looking down the hallway at her. "She spoke for awhile. Not much, but you can't expect her to. Her recovery is going to be a long road, it's going to take a long time."

"I know." Luka sighed.

"She really wants to go home right now though." He said. "But you need to keep talking to her. Even if she doesn't answer you. Talk to her, act as if she is answering you, it will help her."

"Ok."

"I want to see her again soon. Next week sometime?"

"Yes, I will make an appointment." Luka assured him. "Thank you."

+++++++++++

And reach out for her healing hands
Reach out for her healing hands
There's a light, where the darkness ends,
Touch me now and let me see again,
Rock me now in your gentle healing hands

+++++++++++

"For tonight is the night when the lord, Jesus Christ was born…."

The priest looked out into the crowd of parishioners whom had gathered that chilly Christmas Eve in the small church as he spoke. His hands were raised high in front of him, an altar boy on each of his sides. The table in front of him was draped with a creamy white cloth, with two deep red stripes, one down each side. Atop the table was a gold chalice, set between two tall white candles.

Slowly, his hands lowered, signaling everyone in the church to be seated. The sound of everyone moving sounded like one big thud, and all was silent again. The church was stuffed beyond capacity, pews were filled, many stood in the back of the church, some along the two end aisles against the brick walls.

The loud sound from the organ filled the church, the sounds of "The First Noel" coming from it. Luka rubbed his hands together, listening as he stared at the head of the older man in front of him. He had just removed his hat and his hair was standing what seemed to be on end. He had no idea why he cared so much about watching this man's head, it was only his hair.

"As we gather tonight to celebrate the birth of the lord, may we all place forth our prayers and thoughts, for those of us who have lost someone during this holiday season." The priest boomed loudly, as the alter boys walked over to an oversized advent wreath that sat off to the side, and lit the four candles. The flames glowed in the dimly lit church, the wax melting slowly down the sides of each candle.

Luka sat next to Abby in one of the pews on the far left. Next to them, only a few feet higher was a stained glass window of Jesus hung on the cross. Abby was staring straight ahead, listening to the dull boom of the organ.

"Our father, who art in heaven…."

"Abby, are you cold?" Luka asked, looking at her as she shivered, her teeth chattering as she listened. Her head shook as the priest continued the prayer. "Take my coat." He offered, pulling it off of his shoulders and attempting to wrap it around hers.

"Stop it." She whispered, shifting her body away from him, keeping away from the man sitting next to her. "I'm not cold."

Luka sighed, setting his prayer book down. "Abby…"

"Thy kingdom come.. thy will be done….."

"I said to stop it." She mumbled, turning her attention toward the choir of singers that hummed softly along with the music. They all wore matching red robes, each holding a songbook in their hands.

"You look funny." A child said loudly, turning around from his seat in the pew in front of Abby and Luka. He pointed to Abby's face, sitting on his knees. "I had scratches on my face once. My kitty, his name is Nibbles, he scratched me."

The woman next to him grabbed him by the arm and pulled him around. Setting him down on his bottom instead of his knees, she quickly turned around, her face red with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry." She whispered quickly, before turning away again. "Ryan, will you behave." She said angrily, in a voice slightly above a whisper. "I told you if you don't, Santa won't come tonight."

Luka looked toward Abby as the woman turned away, Abby was biting her lip, again. Her face was a deep red color; she was fiddling with her hands in her lap. She moved her broken arm over, holding it close.

"And lead us not, into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen."

"I want to leave." Abby whispered, holding back the tears from the utter embarrassment. The people whom sat all around her were now staring at her, all wondering what could have possibly caused the bruises and cuts that covered her.

"But mommy.." the boy whined louder. "What happened to her? Did her kitty hurt her too?"

"Ok, come on." Luka whispered, getting to his feet, pulling his jacket back over his arms, zipping the front. He looked down and held his arm out for Abby to take hold of as she got up, but she ignored it. He sighed again, knowing deep in his mind she wouldn't have grabbed it. Pushing past the people who sat next to them, drawing their knees up to allow them to pass, they made their way into the aisle.

"Please open your missiles to page 57, a reading from the book of Matthew."

The cold air hit them with great force as they pushed through the church doors and into the cold, windy Chicago Street. Sleet was falling heavily from the sky, leaving slushy piles along the curb.

"Abby, wait." Luka said, walking faster to catch up with her. Her jacket was wrapped tightly around her, her hands hanging limply by her sides as she walked. Her hair matted down by the sleet, coughing loudly as she passed an apartment building.

Luka pulled his own gloves on, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Her lips were a sickly shade of white and her teeth still chattering as they walked. "Let's go in here and warm up." He said, nodding toward a coffee shop on the corner of the street. "Then we can walk to the car."

"I want to go home." She replied, sniffling and blowing hard, a puff of smoke showing in the chilly air.

"It is cold Abby. You need to warm up." He replied, pulling the coffee shop door open and walking inside, allowing Abby to pass him. Inside, the heat was warm and comforting as he approached the counter. The shop was empty, aside from the older man who sat behind the counter, reading a newspaper. Luka glanced up at the clock that read 7:42.

"Abby, what do you want?" he asked, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He glanced over at her. She was sitting in a booth, her gaze looking up at the TV that sat hooked up to the wall. "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" was playing on the screen, he watched as the Grinch stuffed the Christmas tree down the chimney. She ignored him, pulling her casted arm onto the tabletop, pulling her jacket sleeve down around her hand. "Abby?"

"Nothing." She groaned, turning toward the Christmas lights that hung around the ceiling.

"Can I have a coffee with two sugars and a cup of warm milk?" Luka asked, pulling a bill of money from his wallet, setting it on the counter. The older man sighed as he got up and proceeded to fill the order. Setting them on the counter, he took the money and Luka walked toward the booth where Abby sat, setting the hot cups down.

"I said I didn't want anything." She mumbled, looking at the white Styrofoam cup that sat in front of her.

"It will warm you up." He replied, pulling the cover off his coffee cup, fiddling with the opening. "You have eaten almost nothing today Abby, you need something."

"I don't want it." She protested, yawning tiredly, her eyes gazing back at him.

"Please drink it." He begged, setting his cup down on the table, coffee spilling over the side. "I'm worried about you Abby. You and the baby." He admitted, pulling his thumb away, wiping the coffee from it.

She blinked slowly, holding her breath as he spoke to her. She felt the baby kick within her and swallowed her saliva, daring to open her eyes again. "Luka.." she said slowly, swallowing again. "I eat enough, I sleep. The baby kicks, it moves. I feel it ok? Will everyone just stop telling me what to do, I'm not a baby." She said angrily, her eyes still locked shut. "I don't want the damn milk."

He watched her in surprise, as she got angry. This was the first time since the attack she had acknowledged to him she felt the baby, that she was angry. He knew it would come when she'd had enough, but he wasn't prepared for it. Dr. DeRaad had told him that anger was a sign of coming to terms with the rape; one of the first steps in healing.

"Fine, you don't have to drink the milk." He replied, pushing himself forward in his seat. "But will you promise me Abby? Promise me that you will go see Dr. DeRaad again." He said, out of the blue. "Please…."

+++++++++++++

I never knew sleep so restless
Empty arms so cold
That's not the way it's supposed to be
It ain't the spell that I was sold

+++++++++++++

The smell of coffee brewing wafted through the early morning air. Luka sat in the living room, picking at the fire, attempting to move the log he had lit only moments earlier. The ashes blew up and flew out onto the rug, filling the room with a warmth that Luka could only remember so few times in his life.

The Christmas tree sat lit, a small pile of presents sat under it. All wrapped in bright paper, some with colorful bows stuck to them. Luka took one last glance at them; he had spent an hour arranging them the night before. They were all for Abby, he had picked them up at various times over the past few months. But the one special one, the one he wanted her to have first sat up front, wrapped in a huge box, with a bright green bow taped to it.

He wanted to make this day special, bring her whatever joy he could. After the previous night, he was desperate to get her to crack a smile, something he hadn't seen her do in weeks. He reached under the tree to grab a box when he heard footsteps, and Abby appeared in the doorway, her bathrobe wrapped tightly around her, her hand resting on her stomach.

"Merry Christmas." Luka said, sitting up and holding the box in his lap and Abby walked slowly into the living room without a word. Her face was red and tear stained again, obvious she had been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot, her lips blistered and chapped.

He gave her a small smile and held the gift out to her, and she took it onto her hands. She looked down at it and back at Luka, fiddling with the paper. "Luka, you didn't need to…"

"I wanted to." He replied, cutting her off. "Open it." He said, his grin growing wider, playing with his hands nervously.

She bit her lip and with her uninjured hand, picked at the paper slowly, revealing a plain white box. Pulling the lid back with her fingers, she peered into the box and let out a small gasp, lifting the gift into her lap.

"Frankie." she whispered, staring down at the stuffed dog with the brown fur and white spots. She rubbed the matted fur; looking at the purple marker mark she remembered leaving there so many years ago. She'd tried to give him a tattoo like the one she had seen on a TV commercial, only it had just came out one big purple blob. "Where'd you get him?" she asked quietly, staring at the stuffed animal like it would disappear if she didn't.

"Eric sent him to me." Luka replied, moving closer to her, pulling his sweatshirt sleeves down. "I knew you liked him when you were little."

She looked at the dog longer, and then up at Luka. Her eyes were glassy, and her face swollen from the crying. But the glow she got the moment she opened the box was enough. She hadn't smiled, or laughed, but the glow was something. "Thank you." She whispered, pulling the dog in close, like a comfort object.

Luka nodded, continuing to fumble with his hands. "You're welcome." He whispered, looking up at her. He watched her cuddle the dog like a small child would and sighed, happy in knowing he had found something she could find comfort with.

++++++++++++++

But giving into the nightime
Ain't no cure for the pain
You gotta wade into the water
You gotta learn to live again

++++++++++++++

"How about we ask Luka if he wants to come in?" Dr. DeRaad asked, days later during his now third session with Abby. He watched her as she nodded, playing nervously with her jacket zipper again.

He had been making slow but positive progress with her during their last session, and now this one. He had gotten her to talk, to begin to open up. Digging deep with each question, and answer, he had begun to understand her feelings, what she needed.

Abby watched as he opened the office door and allowed Luka in, pointing toward the chair next to her. Luka walked over slowly, his shoes squeaking as they moved across the tile floor. He took the seat next to her, and scuffed his shoes, nervous with being in the room.

"Abby, you're sure you're comfortable with this, right?" Dr. DeRaad asked one more time, taking his seat back across from them.

Abby nodded without a word, and shook her arm, feeling the pins and needles as it fell asleep.

Dr. DeRaad nodded, pulling a fresh piece of paper out, settling his clipboard into his lap once again. "Remember, if at any time you start to feel uncomfortable, tell me, and Luka will leave ok?"

"Yes."

"Ok, good."

Luka looked at the doctor, and back to Abby who was squirming uncomfortably in her chair. He took a deep breath, not sure what he should expect.

"Let me start off by saying that I'm pleased by the progress Abby and I have made in these past few sessions." Dr. DeRaad said, looking to both of them. "And now that I have gathered some background, and know of the events that took place, I can start helping you Abby, in dealing with all that has happened, and eventually, hopefully, healing you."

Luka nodded, looking toward Abby who was staring straight ahead.

"But in order for me to do this, I need both of your cooperation. Abby cannot, and will not heal by herself. You'll need to help." He continued, looking at Luka. "But it also means, that you Abby, need to allow him to help."

She stared at him longer, blinking her eyes, grasping the arm of the chair.

"And I would like to start today… with a small step."

Luka nodded again, himself eager to begin. He wanted Abby to heal; he wanted her to be comfortable again. He wanted to see her smile, unafraid of the outside world, of him."

"Abby, do you trust Luka?" Dr. DeRaad asked, pushing himself forward in his chair.

Abby sat silently for a minute, tapping her foot lightly on the floor nervously. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, as her head began to shake. "Yes…." She whispered, almost inaudibly.

Dr. DeRaad nodded, looking to Luka.

"Do you know he would never hurt you?" he asked, as Luka's gaze turned from that of the doctors, to Abby's.

She nodded her head, gazing nervously at him.

"Ok." He replied. "Now Abby, I only want you to do this if you're ready ok?" he asked. "If you aren't, it is perfectly ok, and we'll continue to work at it." He said. "Alright?"

Her head sat straight, her eyes watching him intently. "Yes." She mumbled, clearing her throat.

"I want you to hold Luka's hand."

Luka watched her as he saw her whole body tense up, her hand gripping the chair harder, her teeth clenching together. Her face became pale, the wrinkles in her forehead apparent.

"But only if you are ready."

Luka continued to watch her, his hand sat outstretched on the arm of his chair. Dr. DeRaad watched as she opened her eyes, and hung her head low again. She swallowed so loudly it was heard by both men, and she let out a heavy breath. Her fingers twitched, moving along the fabric of her black pants. But slowly, they moved. Her whole hand moving up through the air, across her leg, along the arm of the chair. Luka watched intently, and then, the warmth of her hand filled his, as he felt her fingers slide between his. And they stopped, locking in place, holding tightly against his skin. And when they had, Luka let out a sigh, and a laugh under his breath, as a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to breathe freely again.

++++++++++

Reach out for her healing hands
Reach out for her healing hands
There's a light, where the darkness ends,
Touch me now and let me see again,
Rock me now in your gentle healing hands

05/25/01