24 Steps
Part Eight
By Carolina
super_carolina1@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: None of the ER characters belong to me, but the other ones do.

Author's notes: Sorry about the delay of this part, but with the move I had a lot of things to do and no time to do them in. This part is rather long, I apologize for that. But I really couldn't break it down further nor did I want to. Still, I hope you enjoy it :)



"Luka! That leg lac is still waiting in 5," Kerry barked as she walked into the admit area to erase a name she had just discharged.

Luka looked over his shoulder from the computer. "Yeah, I'll be right there," he said and stared at the back of her head for a moment. He finally tapped on the counter and walked over. "Kerry, I still need Saturday off."

"I know, I said I was going to think about it, Luka," Kerry said and walked away.

Carter wrinkled his forehead when he saw his boss in such a bad mood and approached Luka. "Did they call you yet?"

Luka looked at the young doctor with an expression of ignorance for a second and then shook his head. "No," he said in disappointment. He had been on the edge since he dropped Abby off, waiting for that call which would allow him to go visit her this weekend and had even called up there to give them an alternate phone number, but his many phones hadn't made a sound all week.

He smiled faintly at Carter and then grabbed a chart to go and fix that leg lac.

Carter followed behind. "You know, if they don't call you it doesn't mean that she doesn't want you there."

"I know," Luka said quickly and defensively.

"I mean, she has a lot of things to work on, and the last thing..."

"I know, Carter," Luka said again, this time a little harsh.

Carter raised his hands up as a truce. "Alright," he said and walked away.

Luka immediately felt like a scum, but instead of apologizing, he walked into exam 5. "Hello, Mr. Cummings..."



Abby sat on a small bench outside, feeling the breeze tumble her hair and writing things down on a notebook. She had a cigarette in her left hand, and an old pen in the other. Blue. She hated blue ink, but that was all they gave her, so she had to settle for seeing all the things she had to tell herself being printed down by old, disgusting, blue ink.

"Hi, Abby."

Abby looked up and gave a fake smile, and immediately closed her notebook.

"Writing on your journal?"

Abby nodded, a fake smile still pasted on her face. She had forgotten just how curious recovering addicts were, and this place was no different. Ben was the first person who talked to her, other than Renee. Not because he needed someone, not because he could tell Abby needed someone, but probably because the shirt she was wearing that day was a little too tight, and it was a little too cold. She had tossed it away that same night.

"I don't use mine much, I'd rather just talk to my sponsor, he's a cool guy," he said and sat next to Abby.

Abby took a long puff of her cigarette and turned to him. She could tell he wasn't a bad guy, just an idiot. He was one of these men who hit on virtually every single woman they met, but could probably not hold an orgasm for five seconds. She had met men like that, at the hospital, on her way home, but mostly on bars. She wondered what Ben's reaction would be if she suddenly pressed her body against his; he'd most likely start crying and go to his room.

"You know, Ben, I was really in a moment here, and now I've lost my train of thought," she said harshly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized but didn't have the courtesy to leave her alone. Instead, he got more comfortable on his seat. On the background, a few people's singing could be heard, and Ben just shook his head. "God, I hate that fucking chanting."

"Maybe you should join them," Abby said, looking forward and playing with her cigarette.

"How is singing some shit ass Bible verse going to help us when we get the hell out of here? I've done this fucking program 4 times, trust me, it doesn't," Ben went on and on about the chanting.

Abby took another puff of her cigarette. She wished that for one second, he would stop cussing, for at least 3 consecutive sentences, but that seemed to be the extent of his vocabulary. "If you don't think this program works then why do you keep coming back?"

"Isn't this your second time?" Ben asked and watched her. "Why do you keep coming back?"

"I've never been in a rehab center," Abby said nonchalantly, just waiting for him to leave her alone.

Ben looked forward, "I keep thinking that if I come back they'll maybe let me crash permanently, food's not bad at all."

Abby smiled and nodded, and stood up. "See you around, Ben."

Ben watched her go and then stood up to follow her, "You know, I really think us alcoholics should hang out more often, you know? Just sort of stay away from the junkies."

Abby stopped, and he did as well. "Ben, I am really having a bad day, can you please just leave me alone?" she barked.

Ben smiled, "You look really hot when you're mad."

"Ugh," Abby grunted and walked away, leaving him behind. Everywhere she looked, there was someone already there, looking at her as if they wanted to talk to her, trying to save her, or just engulf her in meaningless conversation, they were all Bens. It made her sick, literally. She couldn't even tell what day it was anymore, not that she cared. All she wanted to do was just get out, find the closest bar and let the demons inside of her take control of her life, it was just so much easier that way. She was sick of the singing, the praying, the holding hands, the meetings, the cheap slogans, the sharing, the wake up calls, the cleaning, the bad food, the claustrophobic room they had given her, the decaf coffee, the brand of cigarettes which were nothers, the staff, her shaking hands, her headaches, her tremors, her nausea... she hated it all, and writing things down in a cheap notebook would not help, nothing was helping.

All of a sudden she was in her room, and she did not know how she had gotten there. Her hands opened her bathroom door and her torso reached the toilet intuitively. She let it all out. All her breakfast was flushed, like her dinner, and her lunch. She laid there for a while, hugging the toilet, the only thing she had truly and genuinely hugged since she had gotten there. She could smell her own vomit even after it was flushed, and she still tasted it on her mouth, and still rising on her stomach. Then her shaking hands. She couldn't even remember what her hands were like when they were not shaking; if they were too small or average, if her fingers were long and feminine or stubby.

She wiped her dry mouth and knelt next to the sink to wash it with tepid water. Whose idea was to seal the windows shut? Air was scarce, and all she could do at the moment was lay on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. She tried to think of good things; easy does it, one day at a time, first things first, live and let live, drinking never achieved anything, stay in control, with God all things are possible, all it takes is the will to stop drinking, raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens... Ben was right, that bullshit was not helping at the moment. She felt the cold tiles against her cheek, and each one of her muscles felt like they were 7 tons.

Her hands were still shaking and one of them reached the "hot" knob of the tub, and she turned it all the way. Her sensory nerves immediately alarmed her brain, and she winced in pain, that only caused her hands to shake more.



Luka sat on an incredibly small chair, in an incredibly small room which was incredibly filled with people. He realized he was the only one with a pad and pen, and that made him feel apprehensive, so he put them away. Most everyone seemed to know each other already, but the only thing he had made closed friends with was his coffee, which filled a cheap Styrofoam cup.

He crossed his right leg over his left, and at the same time, a woman walked into the room and everyone became silent. She closed the door and walked to a small desk in the front of the room, and after grabbing a couple of papers, she put her back pack down. The chairs were in a circle, but there were so many that most were forced to create a cluster behind the main circle... Luka made sure his was on the back.

After she talked and said hello to some people, the woman who was in charge finally decided to begin."Ok, this is room 151, and you are all in 'Family Members and Friends of Alcoholics', in case you are wondering why no one is smoking."

Everyone laughed, but Luka didn't get it.

"For those of you who don't know me, my name is Kathy and if you stay with this group I will always be in charge. Anyway, we seem to have gotten the small room, but, um, RR needed a bigger one tonight, so we will be back to our usual room next week." She nodded, looking around the room, and then looked down at the papers she was holding in her hands. "Before we start, I would like to welcome those of you who have never been here before, we hope tonight is enough to make you want to come back. And, um, I have a couple of announcements to make."

Luka shifted on his seat as the woman went on and on about upcoming activities, and charities they were supporting. He looked around, everyone's faces concentrated just on her. They all looked like your average person, and, although some of them looked a little saddened, most were incredibly well rested. At the same time that he looked at a man two chairs away from him, the man looked at him, and they exchanged greetings with a nod before Luka looked back to the woman in the front.

"If you want to be a part of the 'Meals on Wheels' program, you can come talk to me at the end of tonight's meeting," she said and put the papers down to sit on one of the chairs in the main circle. "Ok," she said and cleared her throat. "I see some new faces on the back, anyone would like to share their reason for being here?"



"I think, I mean, my family loved throwing parties, and they were what you would call nowadays "social drinkers". My mom loved those parties, just another way to show the elite community just how likeable us Roberts were. I think the first time I used cocaine I was around 15, or something. My friends gave it to me. I mean, my parents used to be hippies, and they did all kinds of stuff, so it was ok for me to do it as well. Plus, once you start using the fucking thing you can't stop."

Abby looked at the man talking, but she could rarely hear him. They were forced to do this every night, break into groups of 10 or so and just talk; tonight she had come early to take the only comfortable chair, so she could press her legs against her chest, a position which helped her control herself some more. Everyone in the room seemed to be listening, or at least pretending to. She didn't want to listen. The last thing she needed to hear was how some one else had screwed up their life and was now, with the help of God, trying to get back on the right track. All she needed was a cigarette, a good cigarette, not those light things they passed around. Or candy. She would walk out of here not craving alcohol but addicted to sweets.

"I mean, I used it every night, and when you reach that place, it's just easier to stay that way. I mean, I fucking knew what people in rehab were like, shaking, and puking their guts out, and fucking begging for one more shot. That wasn't appealing, and it's still not appealing. I mean, at least when I was using I was gone half the time, you know? I wasn't feeling a fucking thing." He laughed nervously.

"I think Brad brings up a good point: why recover?" the woman in charge, Beth, said.

A woman raised her hand, and she was acknowledged. "I mean, I think I would rather be sober, because that way I can control the things I do, and even the cravings, I can shut off for a couple of minutes. And then like, the people you are close to want to be close to you, because you are more likeable and less likely to make an ass of yourself when you're sober."

"Good, that's good, Judy. Anyone else?" Beth asked again.

Abby looked form the person on her right to the person on her left, rocking on her chair and playing with a strand of her hair repeatedly, just waiting for one of them to give out a reason so she could go to bed and they could all wake up and do the same thing over and over.

"Abby?"

Abby looked up as if she had just come to life.

"We haven't heard from you tonight, can you give us a reason to stay off drugs or alcohol?"

Abby repositioned her legs under her, and felt as the blood began to flow through her veins again, making her legs feel a little cold. She didn't give much thought to the question. "I guess you can work better when you're sober."

"Meaning that through nursing, you can help those who are in your position right now, something you couldn't do if you were drunk," Beth said.

Abby nodded. "Sure."

"You know, I don't think she even thought about that for 2 seconds," a man said.

"Eddie, emotions," Beth said.

"Well, that is my reason to stay sober," Abby said to the man, this was certainly not her day.

"Didn't sound like it," Ben said. "I mean, I just told you all I haven't had sex in two years and I think I wanna hear something a little more juicy than work is the only thing that keeps you sober. I mean, just because you're having a bad day doesn't mean that you have to take it out on us."

"Shut up, Ben," Abby hissed.

"Abby, let Ben express his emotions," Beth said.

Abby sprung forward, "He's not expressing his emotions, he's just sitting there and trying to make me say something he wants to hear, like the size of my bra or how long it's been since *I* had sex," she snapped.

"And that makes you angry?" Beth asked soothingly.

"Of course it makes me angry!..."

"Good, Anger," Beth said and wrote the word on the board.

"...You know, I sit here all night, listening to whatever you people have to say and I NEVER try to contradict anyone of you or even fucking question your reasons for being sober or for drinking, using, or whatever. And if I can't do the same, well, THEN MAYBE I SHOULDN'T BE HERE!" she yelled again, stood up to walk out, slamming the door after her.

"I think we should send her to another group," Eddie said, a few agreed.



"Um, hi, my name is Martha," an overweight woman stood up shyly. Her hair was unkempt and her eyes weary.

"Hi Martha," people said, but none at the same time, and it just sounded like a collective mumble.

"This is my first time here, but I'm certainly not new to this whole process. Well, um, my husband is an alcoholic, and um, he's doing the program... for the third time." She chuckled miserably after that. "Anyway, um, I-I guess it all started when Danny was a kid, his father was an alcoholic, and he was abusive towards his wife, and then Danny grew up with that, and he was drinking even before he could drive." She lowered her stare for a moment, looking at her playing fingers. "We met through some friends, and I fell in love with him immediately... we were married the next year." She smiled, "We have three sons, and um, I guess I noticed there was a problem when um, we were at a party, I was pregnant with my second son, and Danny got so drunk that he got in the car and drove home without us, and we had to stay at our friends'... I didn't even have diapers," she said and began to softly cry. "He keeps saying that the third time is a charm, but I'm so scared that my sons will grow up to be alcoholics themselves."

Someone next to her stood up and put his arm around her, only to make her sit down on the chair.

"Thanks for sharing with us, Martha, and I hope you keep us informed about your husband's progress," Kathy said.

Luka kept staring at the woman who had just spoken with contempt, and even kept looking at her after she had sat down and another person stood up to tell the story of their life. He couldn't even count the number of times he had met women like her, and just how many times he had begged them to leave their spouse. He wasn't so sure about that now. He wasn't sure leaving was a solution anymore. He had been so sure before, now he just didn't know.



Another slamming of the door and Abby was in her room again. She wanted to scream, or cry, or at least punch a wall, but she knew that since they didn't give out drugs to anyone, she would have to live with the pain of a broken hand. She paced around the room for a while, feeling the space shrink more and more around her, and her incapable of doing something about it. She probably should have been thinking about what her punishment would be for walking out of the meeting like that, but she didn't care about it at the moment. Today had probably been one of the worst days of her life, and she had had a lot of bad days in her lifetime. The previous days had gone ok, and the day before she had even felt like she could do this. But then, she woke up on the wrong side of the bed and she was suddenly cussing and storming out of rooms and even burned her hand with hot water. That wasn't normal, but then again, rarely anything was normal around here.

The only thing she could do at the moment to put herself out of her misery was strip out of her clothes and turn on the cold water, and torture herself until the morning came and she maybe attempt to wake up on the right side of the bed.



"Luka, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to put you down on the schedule for Saturday, I need someone with enough experience to cover during the day," Kerry said when she saw Luka sitting on the front desk, reading a chart.

Luka wanted to protest, to tell her his reasons, and to let her know that there were enough doctors around here to cover the ER. But dammit, Kerry knew his reasons. She knew why he wanted Saturday off and she herself had said Abby needed someone there. Before he could argue his case, though, Kerry was gone and a gurney was rushed in. He tried to put all that anger aside and walked towards the paramedics. "What have you got?"

"Single MVA, auto collided against a downtown building. This is Rich Burdon, age 36, complains of pain to the chest and tenderness in his right leg and left arm. BP is 90/70, pulse 120."

Cleo saw this and approached them. "Need any help?"

Luka looked at her as they wheeled the gurney in, "Couldn't hurt."

"Where am I?" the man asked.

"You are in the hospital, sir, we're going to take care of you," Luka said. "On my count, one, two, three."

"Sir, have you had anything to drink?" Cleo asked the man.

"What?" he slurred.

"That answers the question," she said and removed the collar.

Luka looked at her and then down at the man, "Call radiology, Lydia."

"Let's do a lavage while we're at it, I'll call the police," Cleo added.

Luka looked up at her again, "Why?"

"He's drunk, we have to report all drunk drivers," she said.

Luka shook his head, "Don't call them yet."

Cleo turned to Lydia and nodded for her to call them.

Luka saw that, "Lydia get back here!"

"Luka, don't start," Cleo protested.

Luka just looked at Lydia, "Don't call the police," he hissed as he listened to the man's chest with his stethoscope, all eyes fixated on him.



"How are you feeling?" Renee said as she walked into Abby's room to find her on the bed.

Abby peeked her head out of the book she was reading and put it down on her stomach. "I'm ok, thanks."

Renee sat on the bed, "Still craving?"

Abby smiled, "I was sober for 5 years, never stopped wanting a drink."

"Yeah, stupid question, huh?" Renee said and her friend just pressed her lips together. She looked around the room for a while and then back at Abby. "Heard about your little outburst last night."

Abby let out a sigh and looked up, "Look, I was just having a bad day, ok?" she said sharply.

"We all have bad days, Abby. Do you think it's easier for those people out there? It's not, but they're here because they want to better themselves. And if you want to better yourself you have to DO the program," she scolded.

"Thanks for the advice," Abby mumbled.

Renee calmed herself down for a moment, and then lowered her stare. "Look, I don't like coming in here and talking to you like I'm your mother. You're a grown woman, and you have common sense, you know what to do."

Abby looked at her book for a moment and then looked up at her, "So what's my punishment?"

Renee looked at her intensely, "Just don't walk away from meetings again," she said, stressing every word.

Abby smiled, "Thank you."

"And if anyone asks, just tell them I made you clean the toilets," Renee joked. "So how come you're in here? It's a nice day outside, you can help us with the Welcome sign."

Abby, who had gone back to her book, didn't even look up, "There's enough people doing that."

Renee paused, "I have some make up in my place, I can fix you up for tomorrow."

Abby looked up, "That's not gonna be necessary."

Renee nodded, "You don't have anyone visiting?"

Abby shook her head with a fake smile.

"How come?" Renee asked.

Abby closed her book and sat up, looking flustered and annoyed. "It's, just personal, ok?"

"Well," Renee said and stood up, tapping Abby's knee, "I don't know about your personal life, but I can tell you how it feels to see everyone out there having fun with their family members and friends while you are alone in your room, with a book you're not even concentrating on, and I can tell you that it is one of the most awful feelings. So, if you want, I can at least get you the keys to the TV room so you don't hear us outside," she added and walked out of the room.

Abby threw her an annoyed look once Renee was gone. "Reverse psychology, ha! I know more about that than you, sweetie," she mumbled to herself as she began to read her book again.



"Luka!"

Luka threw his head back in annoyance when he heard Kerry's voice again, she seemed to have a liking on his name, particularly screaming it. So he turned around.

"I heard what happened in the trauma room," Kerry said as she approached him. "Care to share the reason as to why you refused to call the cops on that man?"

"The cops came anyway, so that's not important anymore," he mumbled, looking through his locker, ready to go home.

"I think it is," Kerry said. "Because that man was so drunk, he could have killed someone on the road."

"He didn't," Luka said, tired of having to explain every single one of his actions.

Kerry watched him for a moment and then shifted on her feet, "So what were you planning on doing? Hm? Send him up to rehab?"

Luka closed his locker door and turned to her, "Why not?"

Kerry smiled sarcastically, "You're serious."

Luka put on his jacket and walked pass her, "Night, Kerry," he mumbled and walked out of the room. For some reason, he just felt like walking home, even though home was pretty far away. There were two sets of keys in his pockets, Abby's and his. They didn't call. Family day was tomorrow and he would have to come to work thinking that his help didn't mean anything to Abby, that she didn't need him because she had found people who had gone through what she was going through and his help was no longer necessary there. Maybe it never was?

The night was cold, and he adjusted his jacket tightly. The sun was probably out in Croatia. He hadn't thought about that for a long time, he hadn't thought about his family or his old friends, or his dad. The last few weeks had been like going through a worm whole in space. He went from point A to point C without going through point B. He had other priorities, different point of views and opinions. Normally when that happened he moved away, to another city or country. He couldn't do that now. He would have to go through that change with an audience. He already had, and he hated it.

As he opened the door to Abby's apartment building, he thought about the drunk driver, and Cleo. He didn't want to think about it, but it was pushing into his thoughts. He really did think that man could change. He really did think he deserved a second chance. If he didn't, well, where would Abby be right now?

He shook his head as he unlocked her door, and rushed inside to stop a ringing to her phone.



Luka took a deep breath as he saw a tall bell tower out in the distance, becoming bigger as his car sped. His heart wanted out of his chest, and the only thing he could do to control it was tap on the wheel with his fingers while taking short but deep breaths. He was on the edge of making a U-turn to go home, but he just blinked twice and accelerated. He began to wonder if someone from her family would be there. Her brother was in Florida, and her mother hadn't turned up, he knew the last person Abby would want there was Maggie. Still, a cousin? An old friend? He doubted it. In a way, he wanted someone else to be there so it wouldn't be as awkward as he had the suspicion it would be. Carter had gracefully accepted to trade schedules with him, so he would have to fly solo.

The left turning signal began to blink and he still didn't know what he would say. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable, but he knew that was inevitable; he would most likely put his foot in his mouth.

As he turned off the engine, he looked around the parking lot, which was filled with cars, and expecting family members and anxious kids running towards the doors to see their mother or father, an uncle. Luka closed his eyes and counted to three, and his left hand opened the door to meet the right and help it carry the light brown teddy bear and the rose he had gotten. The rose he bought in a red light on his way over, and the teddy bear at a gift shop next to Abby's apartment building, he had removed its 'Get well' t-shirt. For some reason, Carter's speech about Abby being scared at night had hunted him relentlessly, so he wanted her to have something she could sleep with, to protect her and cuddle up to her and make her nights feel less lonely.

He locked his car and made his way to the center. There was a big welcome banner above the doors, and as he walked in, he recognized the receptionist he had met when they came in that memorable night. He nodded a greeting and kept walking, following the paper arrows which were taped to the walls and directed him to the yard. Now that he had been inside, he decided that it was a pretty big place. Different floors for men and women, and different wings for addicts, sponsors, family members and the staff.

A big archway appeared in front of Luka and he walked through, only to be outside again. There was nothing special. No balloons, or signs, or cartwheels with clowns; just trees, chairs, some benches, and a huge table filled with food. That was as far as he could see, though, because the whole thing went on for what seemed like miles.

His eyes immediately began to search for Abby, whom he couldn't see anywhere. A little girl was looking at the teddy bear with a yearning in her eyes, but Luka just smiled and held the bear closer. His muscles finally tensed up when he spotted Abby. She was talking to a man and a woman, and their conversation seemed comfortable and inviting, Abby was even smiling. She hadn't gained the pounds she had lost, and she was looking pale, that made him bite his lip. But she was wearing black pants he hadn't remembered packing for her, along with a white shirt and a black cardigan over it.

He hesitated for a moment, and then walked over. Abby looked his way and then back at her friends, and then back when she realized Luka was there. She gave him a weak smile, and without excusing herself, she turned away from her friends and walked up to meet him halfway.

Luka literally felt like someone had dropped acid all over his stomach, he still didn't know what to say to her. She was probably five feet away, four, three, two...

"Hey, Abby," someone shouted and it made her break her concentration.

"Hey, Ben," Abby said, less than enthusiastically.

"Play's about to start, wanna come?" he said, eying Luka.

"Um, no, why don't you tell me how it goes later, ok?" Abby said sweetly, thinking Ben always chose the worst moments to submerge.

"Alright," Ben said and turned to Luka. "I'm Ben," he said and extended his hand. "We don't use last names here."

Luka smiled and extended his free hand, "I'm Luka."

"Alright, nice to meet you, man," Ben said and gave Abby a knowing look before he disappeared into the center.

Abby looked at Luka and smiled, "Sorry, he's a little..."

"It's ok," Luka said with that big smile on his face. He suddenly looked down at his hands, "Um, I brought you these."

Abby looked at the bear and the rose, and took them in her hands, smelling the rose under her nose. "Thank you," she said and got on her tip toes to give Luka a hug. She had craved this ever since he left. No one could hug like Luka, with such delicacy but so firm. She felt safe like this, as if his strong arms could protect her from anything that could come to her, even her mother. Luka took a long breath of her scent and held her close, feeling her vulnerability even through her breathing. She had been so strong when he met her, and even after they began dating. Now, she was basically torn to pieces, so weak and insecure, like a castle made of cards. He pulled back and kissed her briefly with a smile, her lips cold against his.

Abby smiled and looked around, "You wanna, um, sit?"

"Sure," Luka said and let her walk him somewhere which was not in the middle of the grounds. He realized that at the end of the yard, a forest began, something that couldn't be seen from the road. There was probably a river down there, or a lake... these places were always built around nature like this. Abby found a nice little swing which he was surprised was even available and she sat down, and so did he. He smiled at her, "I didn't think you would let me come," he joked.

Abby scratched her neck and looked down, "I didn't want you to come."

"Why?" Luka asked.

Abby shrugged her shoulders and looked around.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he said, looking for her stare.

Abby finally looked at him, still with a smile on her face, "I know, it's just, um, I don't know."

Luka nodded, understanding what she was trying to say. He looked around at all the people, and really couldn't tell the addicts from the family members, except for the kids. "So," he looked at Abby again and gave her a nervous questioning look, "How do you like it here?"

Abby raised her eyebrows, "It's ok, I mean, um, just, um... well aside from not being able to drink or take drugs, I guess it's ok. I mean, they make us pray all the time, and sing, and do all these things like hug each other all the time, and, um, you know."

Luka nodded, noticing she wasn't even sure of what she was saying anymore, but that was probably all part of the process, or she was nervous because he was there? She was shaking her hand back and forth as she spoke, as if it would help the words come out much faster, and she took a deep breath practically after every two words. He was familiar with it, but had never thought he'd see her crumbled like that.

"Praying is good," he finally said, trying to break the silence.

"Yeah," Abby said and nodded, and put her hands down.

Luka looked at her head, which had around 5 braids from the front and pinned in the middle of her hair, the rest of it down. "I like your hair," he said, letting her know that.

Abby touched her hair as an impulse. "Oh, um, this girl, she's 17 and she wants to be a hair stylist for the stars, heroine addict. She likes doing things with my hair, and, um, I let her because it keeps her, you know, in control." She smiled.

"It's beautiful," Luka said.

Abby let out a nervous chuckle, "I, we only have mirrors in one bathroom, I haven't looked at myself in days."

"You're beautiful," Luka said, which was true, despite how pale and white her skin looked, and how tired her eyes seemed. "What happened to your hand?" he asked after he noticed a little red scar forming in the back of it.

Abby looked down at it and rubbed it with her left hand. "Um, I had an accident with the hot water," she said.

Luka nodded and took her hand to take a closer look at it, "Did you put something on it?"

"No, it's really not that big of a deal," she said, trying to change the subject. "So I guess Carter couldn't make it, huh?"

Luka looked up, but still held her hand, "Abby did you hurt yourself?" he asked carefully.

"No!" Abby said and removed her hand from his, but he held the left one instead. She didn't want to make a scene, and she certainly didn't want to be mad, so she shook her head. "I, these showers are crazy, and the hot water is always too hot, and I didn't know that, so when I was testing it, you know, it just."

"Ok," Luka said nodding. He could tell she was lying, but decided to let it go."Well, Carter is working for me, because Weaver has been crazy."

"Did you tell her what I told you?" Abby asked, a little worried.

"Yeah, she said it was ok, and everyone sends their support and love," he said, rubbing herhand with his thumb.

"I don't know how I'm gonna face them now," she said as she looked down at one of the buttons of his shirt.

"They all just can't wait to see you, Abby, don't worry about that," Luka tried to reassure her. Abby looked up and smiled, and Luka looked back when he heard a man playing a song with a guitar. "You have entertainment."

"Yeah, that's Paul, they let him bring his guitar, but no one let him know just how awful he is," Abby said.

Luka chuckled, "He's not that bad."

"Yeah, well, you should hear our singing sessions, they're just..." she said and shook her head.

"What else do you do here?" Luka asked. He had been curious about this since he dropped her off, trying to know just how you keep a person busy so they won't think of drugs. Maybe if he got her to sing at home more often, he could help her some more.

"Oh, well, um, next week we are going mountain climbing, I mean, me and my group."

"Your group?" Luka asked.

"My bonding group, we meet every night to talk and stuff, and, um, I guess they want us to climb a mountain so we can feel better about ourselves and feel like we can achieve everything," Abby said as if she had done that a million times. "And, um, then we have to keep things in this journal, like, just write everything we feel and think all day, it's," she added and shook her head.

Luka chuckled and he looked down, wanting to ask so many things. It seemed like even if she answered all of his questions, it still wasn't enough. He was still working on the fact that she was here, and he was in Chicago, and that she was an alcoholic, and living with drug addicts which sang and chanted their withdrawals away.

"So," he said nervously. "How are you feeling?"

Abby looked at him and shrugged her shoulders, "I've been better."

Luka stared at her for a moment, her smile vanished and her vulnerability back. He wanted to get her to talk about what she was feeling, maybe ask him to get her out of here. "Are they giving you something for the withdrawals?" he asked.

Abby shook her head, "No, um, we just live on smuggled cigarettes, and, um, they have a store in the back, so I've been eating candy a lot," she smiled, "You know, like hard candy, and chocolate, it's the only thing I don't throw up."

Luka brought his hand up and caressed her hair. He felt so sorry for her. He didn't want to, because he knew that was the last thing she wanted from him, pity. But he still felt bad.

"Still, you know, they sell cigarettes sometimes, but I never make it in time, and they only take cash, so," she added.

Luka smiled, "Well, maybe I can get you a few things before I leave." He shook his head after a pause. "So," he took a deep breath, "What was that phone call?" That had been in his mind a lot, and had made him lost some sleep. He watched as Abby's smile vanished again.

"I'm sorry about that, I just..."

"It's ok," Luka said.

"I stole my sponsor's cell phone, and it ran out of batteries," she said with a chuckle.

Luka smiled, "I thought they let you make phone calls."

"Not very often," Abby said. "I just, um, that night I was, you know, feeling very bad, and I needed to, um, just hear your voice for at least a second," she said in a low tone, almost as a cry.

Luka saw her lower her head and immediately pulled her close. "Hey, it's ok, uh?" he cooed.

"I'm sorry," Abby sniffed against his shirt.

"It's ok," Luka said and pulled back, watching her shaking fingers clean out a tear. His hands helped her own. "Please don't cry." He kissed her forehead. "You want to go get some candy?"

Abby sniffed and looked up, "What?"

"In that store, come on," Luka said and stood up, bringing her with him.

Abby grabbed the bear and the rose and grabbed Luka's hand, her depression gone.

Luka looked at her and smiled as they made their way through all the people. "So where's your room?" he asked her to get her thinking of something else.

"Um, it's- on the other side. I'd show it to you but, um, they don't let us bring men or women to the rooms," she explained.

Luke nodded, "I get it."

"No, it's not because of us, well, um, some are sex addicts, so..."

"Sex addicts?" Luka asked, slightly amused.

"Yeah," Abby chuckled, "Like we aren't all."

Luka laughed as they entered a small store which looked like a candy factory, but mostly just had magazines, books, food, soda, juice and a lot of gum.

"Abby, I was wondering when you were going to come back," a woman behind the counter said.

Abby looked up but didn't smile, "I ran out of cash."

"I got a cargo of cherry Jolly Ranchers just for you," she said and pointed to a box behind her.

"Thanks, Rose."

Luka walked around the small store, gathering virtually every kind of candy he could see and throwing it into a basket as Abby checked out some magazines. There were kids all over the place, looking at things their parents would not buy. After he made sure there was more than enough, he walked out front again.

"Wow," Abby exclaimed, looking at the basket. "Just how long are you going to keep me here?"

Luka smiled and put the basket on the counter. "Anything else you need?"

Abby shook her head, she didn't want to be a leech. But Luka grabbed a couple of magazines he thought she'd like and threw them in too. After paying for everything, he gave Abby a heavy bag and he carried the other. Once out, Abby looked both ways and turned to him, "Come on."

She began to walk into the center, and Luka followed, "Where are we going?"

"My room," Abby said and looked back at his knowing face. "Not like that, you idiot, just to leave these things inside."

"Ah," Luka nodded. When the receptionist wasn't looking, Abby sneaked in, and he followed, feeling like he was doing something very wrong. There was no one inside, and Abby rushed through the hall as she came face to face with her door and opened it.

"No locks?" Luka asked.

"Hiding ourselves from the world is one step back from overcoming our addiction," Abby said.

Luka followed her in, looking around the small room, which only had a bed and a dresser. "Kind of small, huh?"

Abby threw her bag on the bed and put the bear against the pillow, "Yeah, um, first week we live alone, then we get a roommate, I'm still waiting to get transferred."

Luka nodded. He so wanted to throw her on that bed and get her in trouble, but he tried to convince himself that there would be plenty of time for that when she got out. Plus, this wasn't a conjugal visit. He scratched the back of his head when he heard people singing again. He grabbed Abby's hand and walked her out, not trusting himself as far as he could see his own nose. "Singing again."

"Lean on me," Abby said. "It's like an anthem."

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked, feeling his stomach growl.

Frankly, Abby was not hungry at all, but she didn't feel sick, so she just nodded along. She had no idea why this had gotten her so sick. The first time wasn't nearly as bad, and some of the people around here ate sometimes 6 times a day. Renee told her that it was psychological, but Abby didn't understand the psychology behind not being able to eat.

The afternoon came quickly, too quickly, they thought. Soon everyone began to leave, and Luka's shift was scheduled to start in a couple of hours. His heart broke when he told Abby he had to leave and her face dropped. But she walked him out anyway, until a staff member stopped her.

Luka turned around, and saw Abby biting her lip. "Please don't cry, ok?" he begged her and held her close. "Just two more weeks."

"Um hm," Abby said, holding on to him tight, almost cutting his circulation. "Tell Carter that, um, I miss him, and that I hope his sponsor is treating him well," she chocked out.

"I will," Luka said and tried to pull back but Abby wouldn't let him.

"And tell Lydia and Haleh, and Chuny that, um, I miss them too much, and um..."

"Ok, Abby, don't worry about that, ok?" Luka said and pulled back to grab both sides of her face. "Just think of you, and just try to get out of here as fast as you can."

"Ok," she said and felt Luka's lips pressed against her own trembling ones.

Luka took a step back and kissed both her hands, "Just two weeks."

Abby nodded as he walked away, "I'll miss you."

Luka smiled, "I'll miss you too," he said, walking backwards.

Abby smiled as well, and wiped a tear. The sight of him leaving was too much to take, so she decided to walk back in, stealing a glance of him one more time, the only connection she had to the outside world disappearing.

Luka blew her a kiss and walked towards his empty car, hearing people singing form inside the center, and him trying to swallow down his courage, the sound of a cheap and badly played guitar filling his ears.

"Lean on me, when you're not strong, and I'll be your friend. I'll help you carry on, for it won't be long 'til I'm gonna' need somebody to lean on."

To be continued...


Carolina