Disclaimer: None of the ER characters belong to me.

Author's notes: Because there's nothing sweeter than tormenting Abby...



24 Steps: Part 16 by Carolina


Getting ready in the mornings never seemed like such a significant task as it
was today. The sun seemed to have risen late, the paper boy hadn't made his
rounds, and the alarm clock never had a chance to start its relentless beep. She
wasn't really sure, but she had the feeling her eyes had remained opened all
night. Abby took a longer shower, actually did her hair, and ironed her uniform
three times. Her stomach was twice as uptight, and the thought of breakfast
actually made her sick. A week and a half after coming home, she was going back
to work.

And it seemed like every decision was too big for her brain to unscramble; milk
or cream, drive or walk, taxi or the El... As she locked her door, she leaned
into it, letting out a sigh. She heard her neighbor getting ready to walk out,
so she quickened her pace and got out of there before the lady tangled her in
another meaningless conversation. Howard the cat was still scared to come out
after Luka had scared him and now every time the woman saw Abby, she'd do
nothing but reprimand her, the latest being that Luka should pay for Howard's
cat psychology sessions.

The El was practically empty, and a glance at her watch let her know it was
still too early. But she sat back and tried to relax. For the past week and a
half she had done nothing but watch television, go on walks, go to her meetings,
call Maggie, call Carter... she hadn't talked to Luka. She had yet to come up
with the best words to apologize for her behavior. Even if she wrote a
Shakespearean speech, she knew Luka would be reluctant to forgive her. Carter
told her that he was back at work, but things between him and Weaver were always
tense. He tried to keep conversations with others light, because someone would
always ask him, "How is Abby doing?" So things at work for Luka hadn't been
going well. Abby couldn't help but feeling responsible. Responsible was selling
it short. She couldn't feel but feeling like a scum. If it wasn't for her
bullheadedness, Luka would be okay now. She didn't know if he asked about her,
but she figured it was okay if he didn't. She wondered if he would ever care
about her again. She wondered if he would smile in her presence once more, if
she would ever be able to see that shine in his eyes every time he saw her, that
shine she saw when he went to visit her in rehab. She had done so much damage
that the odds were grossly against her.

As she stepped out, a man pushed her, rushing towards the newspaper machine.
After telling him a few of her own words, she walked down the stairs, watching
as an ambulance rushed into the bay. The more steps she took, the more her
stomach twisted and turned. She kept taking deep breaths, deep enough that
people around her thought she was practicing for Lamaze class; one man asked her
if she was in labor. She graciously told him she was okay, and after chuckling,
she found herself face to face with the ER doors.

Or not.

She made a U turn and headed towards Doc Magoos instead.

Sometimes a smell flies you back momentarily to places you know you have been
before, but they're hard to remember. The smell of clay takes you back to pre
school, but you can't really remember which day exactly. The smell of sloppy
joes to high school, and old books to college days. The smell of Doc Magoos did
the same. To the night she became Carter's sponsor, to Thanksgiving with Luka
and Maggie, to countless of lonely nights, to meetings with friends and
colleagues. She never realized how much she missed this place until she was far
away from home. Not the hospital, not the ambulance bay, just Doc Magoos. Now
all those memories flowed gracefully through her, leaving her breathless for a
second or two.

Trying to appear casual, she walked over and sat on a stool by the counter. "Can
I have a tall black coffee with one of creme to go, please?" she smiled at the
woman behind the counter, who repeated Abby's words and returned to do her task.


Abby took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. A couple of strands of her hair
fell on her face, and her fingers began to play with one of them as she looked
forward. She felt as if it was her first day of school, in another country, with
people who spoke a completely different language. All of a sudden her hand
slipped inside her bag. She took out her packet of cigarettes and checked
inside, only seven left. Those would probably be gone by her lunch break. If God
really loved her, and had at least a little bit of compassion, then Luka
wouldn't be working today.

The waitress put the large cup of coffee in front of Abby, who immediately
grabbed a couple of packets of sugar and began to shake them in the air.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the elusive Miss Lockhart," a voice came from
behind.

Abby looked back and wasn't discreet to show her disappointment at the sight of
Robert Romano.

"Morning," she mumbled as she turned back around.

"You're not making that coffee Irish, are you?" Romano said as he took a seat
next to hers.

Abby slowly gave him one of her deadly stares, and returned to the safety of her
coffee.

"Touché," Romano said and snapped his fingers at the waitress. "The usual."

Abby watched as a cascade of sugar fell on her coffee, and without moving she
asked. "Aren't you gonna be late for surgery?"

Romano let out a couple of chuckles. "The boss sets his own schedule, and I get
paid more. I bet you know a lot about life's generosities."

Abby continued to look at her coffee. "I bet I do."

"Come on, Miss Lockhart," Romano said, noticing her sarcastic tone. "Human error
is what makes us stronger, if it wasn't for alcoholics and drug addicts we'd all
be out of jobs."

She turned her heads towards him again, watching as the lights from the ceiling
reflected on his shiny bald head.

The waitress put her coffee in front of Romano and he continued. "So how was
rehab? They still putting those little chocolate mints on the pillows?"

Abby turned towards Romano. "Do you enjoy being a prick? Or is it some kind of
disability?"

Romano chuckled, mixing sugar into his coffee. "I'll let that one pass in hopes
you don't kill anyone today."

Abby smiled sarcastically. "I don't know, are you feeling lucky?"

Romano nodded. "Strangely so, yes." He picked up his jacket. "Coffee's on me."

Abby looked back as he left, and looked at the waitress. "Can I have a donut
too?"

"Sure," the waitress said, putting the donut in a bag.

"It's on Dr. Romano's tab, and, uh, give yourself a nice tip," Abby said as she
grabbed the bag, gave the waitress a smile, and walked out.

Well, nothing like an encounter with Romano to put her back on track. She
stepped outside and this time didn't have any second thoughts before she
approached the ER. The first thing she heard was the telephones ringing off the
hook, and the first thing she saw was Randi smiling at her way as she tried to
answer each one of them. Kerry saw Abby walk into the lounge and she followed
quickly, with a few charts resting on her arms.

"Abby, welcome back," Kerry said.

Abby looked up, not having seen Kerry, and pasted a smile on her face, knowing
she'd be hearing the same greeting over and over today. "Thank you."

"Are you ready?" Kerry asked.

"Yeah," Abby said casually. 

"If you need to take it slow..."

"Thanks, Dr. Weaver, but I'm fine," Abby interrupted as she put her nurse jacket
on.

"Good," Kerry said. "But take it slow just in case."

Abby nodded, and watched as Kerry left. The day hadn't started and she already
hated it. Even Kerry, a woman who cared more about the efficiency of her workers
than their being, was sympathetically smothering her with special treatment.
Carter would keep asking if she was okay every 5 seconds and the nurses probably
already had their own version about the events of the last months. Those past
few months, how could she have been so careless? She had been so careful about
her recovery, about staying away from alcohol, about going to her meetings every
week. And now she couldn't even remember why she relapsed in the first place.
She couldn't even remember the exact day when she began drinking again. It just
seemed like such a huge ordeal, and yet such a small cause. And every night she
kept thinking about those 5 years, about how they had been her pride and
comfort. She couldn't even count on that anymore.

As she clipped her ID to her uniform, she took a deep breath and walked outside.
She stood by the door for a moment, expecting every face in the hospital to turn
towards her, but none of them did. 

She walked towards the desk, unsure of even the steps she was taking, and took a
look at the board, scanning for Luka's name. She let out a sigh of relief when
she didn't see it there.

"Hey, welcome back," Carter said as he walked over, dropping a chart on the
rack.

Abby turned around and smiled. "Thanks."

"How are you feeling?" Carter asked.

There it is.

"I'm fine," Abby continued to smile despite her growing discomfort.

"Well, if you are, then I need help on exam 2," Carter added and started to walk
away.

Abby looked around, feeling as if any step could break her down, and followed
Carter down the hall. There was a drunken man snoring on the bed, and Abby
flinched at the smell.

"Oh, God, please tell me it's not maggots," Abby moaned.

Carter looked at her and frowned. "Sorry."

"God," Abby continued to complain, putting her gloves on.

"I think most of them are dead, though, but he needs stitches. Sort of a welcome
back present," Carter said as he put on his mask and sat on a stool by the bed.

"A card would have been just fine," Abby said and sat on the other side. The
smell and the sight made her nauseous and she had to look to the side for a
while.

"You okay?" Carter asked.

"Yeah," Abby mumbled, still looking away.

"I can get Haleh..."

"I'm fine," Abby snapped. She got herself together and started to work again,
feeling Carter's eyes on her head. God, she hated when people worried about her.
Don't they have their own problems?

Carter shook his head, grabbing a pair of tweezers. All of a sudden he didn't
know what to say, but just as he began to think of a possible topic of
conversation, Abby interrupted the silence.

"Luka working today?" she asked, trying to sound as casual as she could.

"Yeah, he's here," Carter said.

Abby looked up immediately. "I didn't see his name on the board."

"I think he's doing charts," Carter mumbled, looking down at the dirty body of
the homeless man, who continued to snore.

"Oh," Abby simply said and returned to work.

"Did you talk to him yet?" Carter asked.

Abby smiled. "You'd already know if I did."

"Right," Carter said as if he had been caught doing something bad. "Are you
going to?"

Abby tried to take a deep breath, but the stench was too strong, so she just let
out some of her breath. "Sometime in the future, maybe."

"Can't avoid him forever," Carter said.

"I can try," Abby said. "Homey here has enough worms to keep me busy all day."

Carter chuckled. As he sewed on the wound, he felt an uncomfortable silence, and
trying to second guess, he just asked. "Does it bother you? That Luka and I are
friends?"

Abby looked up, confused. "No," she said. "Why would it?"

Carter shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. You don't seem comfortable with
it."

Abby let out a sigh. "I guess I'm not used to you two being in the same room
without snapping at each other's throats."

A small chuckle escaped Carter's lungs and he adjusted the mask around his mouth
and nose. "You know I don't mind."

"I know," Abby said.

"And if you want to talk to me about something, that doesn't mean I'm gonna go
and tell Luka, you have your privacy and he has his," Carter said.

Abby's eyes darted around the room for a second, and then the homeless man let
out a louder snore. It was ignored. "Has he told you..." She stopped there, not
knowing how to ask the question. "Does he tell you things?" she finally
finished.

Carter didn't want to answer that question. He guessed that was what he got for
getting in the middle of those two. "Yeah, sometimes," he mumbled.

She didn't press further. Even if she did, she knew Carter wouldn't say
anything. And it was comforting to know that if she were to tell him something,
he wouldn't tell Luka either. For the first time in months she felt grateful for
Carter's friendship. She never really stopped on her tracks to realize how much
it meant to her.

Suddenly she felt something tickling her finger and she jumped up. "Jesus!" she
snapped as she shook her hand and a worm fell on the floor. "God!"

"Whaa, whaa," the homeless man stirred in his sleep, looking around and bothered
that he had been awaken from his sleep.

Carter stood up, putting the tray away. "Well, we're done here."

"When do I get a sponge bath?" the homeless man asked, scratching his hairy
face.

Abby let out a sigh. "I'll get the hose."

~*~

The more she thought about time, and the more she glanced at the watch on the
wall, the slower the day went. Weaver seemed to have learned magic while she was
gone, because just when she thought she was alone in a room, all of a sudden
Kerry magically appeared, making sure Abby was sticking to minor cases. How this
woman managed to run an emergency department and still have time to check on her
employees individually every five minutes mesmerized Abby.

She opened the door to the cafeteria, immediately perceiving the smell of bland
food. She approached the line as she looked around the room, her eyes searching
for someone she might know. Chuny and Haleh waved her over and Abby smiled,
grabbing an apple, a turkey sandwich and a diet coke and paying the cash
register.

"We saved you a seat," Chuny said, putting her things aside.

"Yeah, right," Abby said, all of a sudden having a high school flashback.

"I heard Weaver was on your back," Haleh said, playing with the straw of her
drink.

"Isn't she on everyone's back?" Abby asked.

"I heard she likes you the most," Chuny said.

"And with the latest rumors flying around..." Haleh said playfully.

Abby looked up. "Don't start..." she looked down, frowned, and then looked up
again. "What rumors?"

"You haven't heard?" Chuny asked, like a school girl.

"No, what happened?" Abby asked.

"Weaver went through the other door," Haleh said with a mischievous smile.

"Oh, come on," Abby said skeptically.

"That's old news. The new news is that she's dating Coburn," Chuny added.

"What?!" Abby laughed. "Now you're making things up."

"It's true, ask Randi," Haleh said. "She saw them at a gay bar the other night."

"And what was Randi doing at a gay bar?" Abby asked.

"I don't know," Chuny explained.

As the nurse continued to give out the details of Kerry's fictional affair, Abby
looked around the cafeteria. The place was always crowded at noon, no matter how
bad the food was, but there, in a corner of the room, she saw Luka. She stared
as he read a chart, concentrating hard on the information on it. He seemed to be
oblivious to everything and everyone around him, including the remaining of the
food in front of him. She wondered where he had been all day. Did he know she
would be coming back to work so decided to do paper work instead? Delusional,
maybe, but she wouldn't put it past Luka. All of a sudden another doctor
approached, asking if the chair next to him was available. Luka came out of his
thoughts and immediately picked up his trash, getting up and dumping the tray on
a near trash can. As he turned around, he saw her sitting there, and Abby
immediately lowered her eyes. She felt as he stared at her for several more
seconds. As soon as she looked up, he looked down, and walked away.

"... and Coburn has been down in the ER five times today," Chuny finished her
story, nudging Abby's arm.

Abby jumped and turned towards Chuny as if she was a stranger. "What?"

Chuny shook her head. "Never mind."

"Don't worry, he's not dating anyone else," Haleh said.

"Who?" Abby asked.

"Dr. Kovac," Chuny said. "We heard what happened."

Abby let out a sigh, gathering her uneaten food. "Do you know everything that
happens in the ER?"

"We know everything that happens in the hospital," Haleh explained.

"Well... give it a rest," Abby said a little angrily as she stood up and dumped
her food into a trash can. She felt as the nurses' eyes followed her out of the
room and Abby immediately walked out of the cafeteria and out to fresh air on
the back alley. Her hand reached into her pocket and she took out a pack of
cigarettes.

This was useless. All that hard work, all those hours of torture and pain only
to come home to more pain. So many of her friends in rehab were so happy about
recovering and going home to their families. All of them were ecstatic as they
announced they were going to be able to go home. She wondered if those people
were feeling the way she felt right now. She wondered if they were questioning
their recovery, their lives, their decisions. She wondered if they felt out of
place, out of character, if they belonged. Her thoughts wandered to Ben. She
wondered if he had been discharged, if he had relapsed already, if he had gone
to see his children.

So many of those people had children. Visitation hours were filled with children
laughs and screams as they ran to meet their mothers or fathers. Abby only
watched from her seat, knowing that even though those children were happy to see
their parents, their childhoods were ruined. They'd grow up like her, second
guessing every minute of their existence, wondering who was out to hurt them and
who was out to stab them in the back. Pulling back every time they felt tears,
or anger, or disappointment... every time they felt love.

"Hey," Carter frowned as he stepped out for a minute to see if it was raining
and saw her there.

Abby didn't say anything, but took a poof of her smoke and let it out slowly.

"Are you okay?"

Sweet mother of God, what did she have to do to make people stop asking that
question?

"Yeah," Abby said, staring straight ahead at the huge trash cans that stood at
the end of the alley.

"Do you wanna go home? I can talk to Weaver," Carter asked, holding the door in
place.

"No," Abby said immediately, throwing the cigarette away. There went her only
minute of peace.

She adjusted the stethoscope around her neck, giving Carter one of her best fake
smiles. He opened the door wider and she walked pass him, hearing as the heavy
door snapped back into place, sending an echo of chills down her spine.

~*~

She tried to remind herself not to look at the clock on the wall. Maybe if she
disregarded the notion of time, it would slip away faster than it was supposed
to. The waiting area was filled with people who seemed to be perfectly fine.
Some of them were holding kitchen towels against a limb, but she wouldn't see
any blood. That was the bad thing about Spring, people seemed to be more
appreciative about doctors.

But it had also been a quiet day. Despite the sirens blaring, the babies crying,
the machines beeping and Weaver shouting, it had seemed like the sound was off.
Maybe she just didn't talk enough. The nurses kept gossiping about Kerry and
Janet, and Abby simply had to roll her eyes at the idea. She had worked under
Coburn for almost 10 years and a lesbian she was not. She seemed like one, acted
like one, but come on. She decided to let the nurses have their fun anyway. Live
and let live.

"Kerry."

She heard the raspy voice of Luka and she remained still, pretending to review
an empty chart in her hands.

"Luka, are you done?" Kerry asked.

"Not yet," Luka said. "Dr. Petal is not in his office, I need a confirmation."

"And I need those charts ready today."

Kerry's voice seemed angry. Not her usual angry, when she came into the ER and
everyone ran for hiding. Angry at Luka. For what? Well, Abby knew. But she
wondered if Luka had done something today. She wondered if doing charts was his
punishment for doing something.

"I know, I need his page number," Luka added, his voice sounding stressed and
awkward.

"Look on the computer," Kerry said, and Abby heard the metallic sound her brace
created as she walked away.

Abby tried to look behind her shoulder, but she knew Luka was standing there,
and she didn't want to create another tense moment. All of a sudden he entered
her peripheral vision as he sat on a stool in front of the computer. She could
tell he was tired by the way his shoulders were hunched over, but her eyes
returned to the chart in front of her, empty as it was. She heard him mutter a
couple of things, and as she put the chart down, she walked over tentatively,
and hit the Enter button for him.

The computer let out a beep of approval, and Luka barely looked up at her as he
let out a, "Thanks."

"Yeah," Abby said as she grabbed her chart and started to write something in it.


As Luka typed Dr. Patel's name, his feet began to tap against the leg of the
stool and he finally just shook his head. "How's your day been?"

Abby looked up and at him, as if he was speaking in a different language.
"Good," she smiled. "Sticking it to minors."

Luka actually relaxed a little, but not enough. He was about to offer his
assistance if needed, but then remembered that Abby never accepted his help, no
matter how much she needed it. So he returned to his search, and after writing
the number down on a post it note, he stood up and simply walked away.

Abby was about to say something, call him back, but he was too far away now. Any
attempt would cause a scene, throw more fuel into the nurses' gossip bonfire.
What a mess.

"Abby, IV change in exam 2," Kerry said as she whisked by.

Abby nodded, looking towards Luka's direction, but decided to follow Kerry
instead. "Dr. Weaver," she said as she caught up. "Can I talk to you for a
second?"

"A second," Kerry said.

Abby scanned through her mind for the one question which would cover all the
information she needed. "Um, it's about Luka, Dr. Kovac..." she shook her head.
"Luka."

"What about it?" Kerry asked, still walking and reading a chart at the same
time.

"Is he on some kind of probation, or something?" Abby asked.

Kerry looked back for a brief second and returned to her chart. "No, why?"

"Well, he's not usually doing charts all day," Abby tried to make light of the
situation by chuckling slightly.

"We're slow, he can afford it," Kerry replied.

"Right," Abby said but kept following. "Dr. Weaver, I know that what happened
wasn't very, well, appropriate?"

"Abby," Kerry interrupted. "This has nothing to do with what happened two weeks
ago, Luka volunteered to do the charts and even if it was some kind of
punishment, I really don't have the right to discuss it with you."

Abby recoiled at the blow, but continued. "I just wanted to let you know that
Luka's reaction... well, it was my fault, not his..."

"Abby," Kerry finally stopped walking. "This is between Luka and the
administration."

Abby watched helplessly as Kerry walked away as if nothing had happened, reading
off her chart. Letting out a sigh of disappointment, she simply turned around
and headed towards the desk. She couldn't fix her life, she couldn't fix others.
One day at a time. That's not very comforting when said days brought nothing but
hurt and disappointments.

~*~

"Forget your troubles come on get happy! We're gonna scare all your cares away,"
a woman sang as Abby tried to hold her steady. "Shout hallelujah, come on, get
happy!" She suddenly stopped with a couple of giggles. "Did you know Judy
Garland?"

Abby smiled. "No, can't say I did."

"I did," the woman grinned. "Those songs? I wrote them all. Somewhere over the
rainbow, way up high," she began to sing again. "There's a land that I heard of,
once in a lullaby."

"That's... nice," Abby said. All of a sudden the door opened and she looked back
to see Luka with a chart on his hand. Great, he chooses this moment to start
working again.

"She's back?" he mumbled as he checked the chart one more time.

"I think she just wandered out," Abby replied, looking down at the woman, who
kept humming to herself.

Luka put the chart down, feeling the awkwardness making the air around the room
dense. "Mrs. Morris, where's your nurse?" he asked as he sat down on a stool,
analyzing the small cut on her arm carefully.

"Somewhere, over the rainbow," the woman giggled.

Abby rolled her eyes. What she wouldn't give to be somewhere over the rainbow.
She'd take those flying monkeys over her life any day. Mrs. Morris now began to
sing a slow ballad, and Abby looked at Luka as he put his gloves on. It was as
if Mrs. Morris wasn't even there. It made her nervous and too stressed. "Do you
need me here?"

Luka looked up for a moment, not knowing what to say, and then finally replied.
"Um, no, go ahead."

Abby nodded and walked out of the room, wondering if there was a spot available
at Mercy or some other hospital.

As she glanced at the clock of a computer on the desk, she realized her day was
almost over. All these people around her, she wondered how they were able to go
through the day without a drink. It was what she had been thinking about all
day. Her need for a drink had never been as overwhelming as this. The first time
around, she was able to get her thoughts together, think of one or more
incentives, and pull through. Now, she had no med school, no marriage to save,
nothing to salvage.

"Abby," Kerry called once more as she walked over. "If you wanna go home, go
ahead."

Abby was about to protest, but her body eased instead. "You sure you don't need
me around here?"

"We got it covered," Kerry said. "Go home."

Go home. Weaver language for, 'Your job is in jeopardy, so get yourself together
or you're fired'. She examined her boss' features as she grabbed another chart
and went back to work, and Abby simply ripped her tag from her jacket and
dropped it in her pocket.

As she got her things together, her thoughts wandered to her earlier musings.
Maybe she should find a reason to do this. Maybe she should go back to med
school to keep her thoughts off from alcohol and Luka. She needed to keep
moving, to keep her mind busy.

She walked out, and as she held on to her bag tightly, she couldn't feel her day
was over. She needed to talk to Luka desperately, but he was busy with a
patient. It was a sudden drive she had never felt until now, and she wondered if
it was her own mind trying to tell her this was the right step, making things
better, telling her it was her fault and it was her job to fix it.

But she didn't know what to say.

So she walked out, glancing at her watch and knowing she could at least make it
to a meeting.

Without even going home to change, she made her way through the old building and
opened a door with a paper taped to it reading "AA". The meeting was already in
progress, and a couple of people looked her way, giving her a smile. She smiled
back, and sat on the back. A couple of people turned her way to say hello, and
she regarded them all with the same smile. Finally, without even knowing why or
how, the man stopped talking and she raised her arm. He smiled, and invited her
over. As if it was an out of body experience, Abby watched herself as she made
her way up the room, and an uncomfortable silence made her stomach hurt.

When she reached the podium, she caressed the wood with the tip of her fingers,
looking at the path they took, remembering all the times she had done this
before.

"Uh, my name is Abby, and I'm an alcoholic."

And said those words. Everyone said hi, and she smiled, an encouragement to
continue. She kept looking down at the papers resting on the podium, all
announcements the speaker would make later.

"I know you've been wondering where I've been these past several months." She
finally looked up, with a smile everyone knew wasn't genuine. "Well, um, I guess
I have bad news." She felt as some people shifted on their seats, a reaction to
news they already knew. "Um," she continued. "I, uh, I relapsed a couple of
months ago." The silence continued. "I, uh, I don't really know why, or," she
chuckled, "Or even when, it's, I'm not gonna... blame it on work, or my
boyfriend, or my mother..." She took a deep breath, and continued. "But it still
hurts, because I never thought this was gonna happen. I always thought that was
it, you know? The nightmare was over and I was so proud. And when new people
came through that door, I never thought that would be me again. And when other
people needed help, it made me happy to know I could help them, because I had
done it, I, uh, I had recovered."

She felt a lump in her throat, and it was eased when her eyes became a little
moist. But it was okay. This was the only place where she allowed herself to
cry. No matter how bad her day was, how awful her life had been, there was
always one or two people whose lives had been ten times more screwed up than
hers. She felt at peace, even though she was the messenger of bad news. This was
probably the only place on earth she could call home, an old classroom with a
bunch of people who couldn't keep their lives together. That was her family.

"Well, I guess I screwed up again." No one said anything, no one moved, all eyes
were kept on her, and even though she didn't know what she was trying to
communicate, she continued. "Today I was at work, and I realized that, God, I
really want a drink again. I, I can't think, I can't work," she let out a sigh.
"I've been avoiding coming here, because it's just... excruciating. I used to
sit there, feeling the glory of being congratulated, of seeing people smile when
I said I had been sober for another day." She took a moment to look away at a
poster taped almost all the way near the ceiling, her fingers clearing a
stationary tear in her eye. Her mood changed from sadness to anger. "I, um, when
I treated a drunk patient I used to think he or she was below me, that I was
better than them. And now I just... I hate myself, I hate myself for being so
weak, and for avoiding you, and everyone else in my life, and for thinking it
was over, and for thinking I was better, and for screwing up. And I don't know
what I hate the most, the fact that I relapsed, the fact that I let you all
down, or the fact that right now I can't really say I'm gonna be okay. I'm not
okay right now, and I hate that."

She lingered there for a while, and then after finding herself speechless, she
just walked away and sat on her chair again. A woman next to her patted her arm,
and Abby only heard as the man in the podium began to talk about how much she
could count on them, how they supported her and how they didn't judge her. They
didn't judge her. No matter where the words came from, it was always music to
her ears.

A woman in front of her turned around with a smile. "Welcome home."

Abby smiled, through her drying tears. "Thanks, Cass."

"Do you need a sponsor?"

Abby chuckled. "Very much."

~*~

The headache was almost over. She had been walking around the city, thinking
about her plans, her new sponsor, thinking about step two. Was there really
someone out there looking out for her? If there was, he or she must be painfully
blind. If she wasn't ready to admit there was a God, how on earth would she make
it to step 12?

Abby stood outside of the hotel as little yellow lights decorated the edges of
the building. It really wasn't Christmas, but she guessed hotels did that to
attract more tenants. As she took a deep breath, she felt butterflies flying
quickly all over her stomach, making her almost nauseous. Well, more like
vultures.

"Can I help you with your luggage?" a man suddenly walked up to her, dressed in
a tight burgundy suit and wearing white gloves.

Abby looked at him, and then around her, realizing she had been standing next to
a family's luggage as they kept taking things out of their car. "No, this isn't
mine, sorry," she said quickly and adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she
walked into the hotel.

This place was always crowded, whether it was tourist season or not. It was one
of those hotels which had a small bar, and a small casino inside. She never
really knew how Luka could live in a place like this. The place was a lot of
things, but it wasn't a home.

She got on the elevator and waited as it took her to the 12th floor. The music
was distracting her somewhat from her thoughts, but at the same time torturing
her with its tackiness. The elevator stopped, and an Asian couple with cameras
around their necks got inside.

"Oh, this is going up," Abby said, but quickly realized they didn't speak
English. "Up?" she said as she pointed her finger towards the ceiling.

"Yes, up," the woman said with a huge smile on her face.

Abby decided to let it go, and just heard as the couple whispered to each other
in Chinese, or Japanese, or Esperanto, she never knew. With a ding, the elevator
stopped on the 12th floor and she drew in a big breath as she walked outside.

"Up!" the Asian woman said with a smile and a wave, and Abby returned the smile
with a, "Good night."

All of a sudden she was alone in the cold hallway of Luka's floor. She hated
this place. She hated that it was always so cold, and the hallways so quiet,
hurting your ears because of the altitude. She hated that is smelled like cheap
carpet cleaner, and you never really could have someone you could call a next
door neighbor. As she stood there she considered going home, and maybe just
calling him on the phone, but she knew that was just another way to escape her
problems. Step 9, step 9. She wasn't even on step 3, but this night she had to
remind herself of step 9. Even if Luka had nothing to do with her recovery, this
night she could use step 9 to remind her that she would have to do this sooner
or later.

So she walked down the hall, putting her thoughts aside. Then she finally found
herself in front of his door, and without hesitation, she knocked on it a couple
of times, and waited. A couple walked past her. Was it couples night in this
place? She knocked on Luka's door again, and waited some more. As she looked
around, she thought that maybe he wasn't home, maybe he had been called to
attend a patient. She knocked again, and looked at her watch.

Suddenly the door opened, but Abby frowned, looking at a small Mexican woman who
was dragging a cleaning cart.

"Finish," she asked in a heavy accent, opening the door for Abby.

"Uh, is Dr. Kovac there?" Abby asked, glancing discreetly inside.

"Dr. Kovac, no," the woman said. "I clean."

"Yeah," Abby sighed. "Do you know where he is?" she asked, thinking that if she
over pronounced every word, the woman would somehow understand her better. She
really needed to learn a second language.

"I clean," the woman repeated. "Dr. Kovac... he... uh... drink," she said as she
pointed downstairs.

"He's in the bar?" Abby asked.

"Yes, bar," the woman said excited as she nodded up and down.

Abby smiled. "Thank you."

She heard as the woman kept dragging the cart into another room, and once more,
Abby walked around the hallway and got on the elevator again.

"Up," the same Asian woman smiled as she saw Abby, who walked inside and pushed
the already lightened L button.

"Hey," Abby greeted once more. Well, if she didn't get anything out of this
night, at least she could go home knowing she had made two elevator friends. She
smiled at the couple and then looked down as she felt their eyes on her. She
hated being on elevators with people. It never mattered if music was playing or
not, there was always an awkward silence she detested. The couple kept
whispering, and she wondered why, because it wasn't like she would understand
what they were saying anyway. Then finally there was a ding and Abby let them
walk out first. The man and the woman waved goodbye as they walked towards the
exit doors, and Abby responded with her fake smile. Once they were out of sight,
she turned towards the bar.

The bar, just what she needed at that moment. She contemplated between walking
in, or having someone go in and get Luka for her. She looked inside, and could
easily spot him at the bar, talking to a man next to him. He was drinking
something yellowish in a short glass. He suddenly let out a laugh as the man
next to him said something, and she realized they weren't speaking in English.
Chicago had never seen as diverse as tonight.

As she walked in, she looked around the bar. It was loud and there were
waitresses with short skirts walking around with trays in their hands. She let
out a sigh and walked straight towards the bar.

"Luka," she called out as she stopped walking when she was facing his back.

Luka turned around, and his smile quickly disappeared. Luka's friend nudged
Luka's arm with a huge grin.

"Can I talk to you?" Abby asked, her voice fighting with the noise of the bar.

Luka looked doubtful and without saying anything, he reached into his pocket.
His friend said something Abby couldn't understand, but she figured he offered
to pay the bill, because Luka patted him in the shoulder a couple of times and
gulped the rest of his drink down. Suddenly he realized they were in a bar, so
he rested his hand on her back as he guided her outside.

As they walked around aimlessly, he really didn't know what to say. He was
beginning to feel nervous, wishing he was out of this earth. He looked around
the crowded lobby and then down at Abby. "Do you... wanna go somewhere?"

"I don't know," Abby said as she played with her fingers.

"Are you hungry?" Luka asked.

"Um, not really," Abby said, shaking her head.

Luka just nodded, and opened the doors to the hotel to let them both out. Abby
started to walk down the sidewalk and he followed, and between them an
uncomfortable silence that was killing Luka inside.

"So," he started, looking around the passing cars.

Abby cleared her throat. She hated this. She hated admitting she was wrong. She
hated saying she was sorry. She hated talking about her weaknesses with Luka.
She hated that she had weaknesses. She just hated this moment. So she tried to
use that hate as an incentive.

"Um," she started. "I just..." Damn, why didn't she write this down before
coming over? "I wanted to apologize... for what happened," she finally said as
she tried to avoid his eyes. Thank God they were walking beside each other and
not meeting face to face in some restaurant.

Luka slipped his hands into his pockets, still not knowing what to say. Apology
accepted? Not really, he was still mad at her. Forget about it? Not really,
because the fight was still playing vividly in his mind. It's not your fault?
Not really. As much as he wanted to believe that, it was far from the truth.

"It was my fault," she continued. "And I know you were right, I guess I just, I
do that sometimes."

Luka let out a quiet breath, knowing she was apologizing mostly because she had
to. That just made his earlier decision much better. His hand grabbed and
snapped a small leave from a tree he passed, that would at least give him
something to play with, distract him a little. "Look, Abby," he started, feeling
her eyes on him for a brief second. "I care about you, more than you can
imagine, but I feel like I'm not making things better."

Abby stopped walking immediately, feeling her stomach sink. The words were in
her mouth, but she couldn't dare to say them. A car sped up far away, letting
out a loud screech, and she looked up at him in disbelief. "Are you breaking up
with me?" she asked, half incredulous, half hurt.

Luka stopped as well, looking at her. "No." He looked around, not knowing how he
continued to breathe on his own after these thoughts he was having. "I don't
know," he repeated quietly.

Abby closed her eyes hard, and dropped her head. Well, this was worst than she
could have possibly imagined, worst than him not forgiving her. "Luka..."

"Abby..." he interrupted. "I just want you to get better, and us fighting is not
going to help. I went to those meetings and they said..."

"What meetings?" Abby asked, looking for his stare, but he kept looking around.

"Those, friends and family of alcoholics, and they said..."

"What were you doing there?" Abby asked, the small anger in her previous
sentence no longer there.

"Carter thought it would help," Luka said, staring at her for a second, and then
looking away. "Abby, you're right, I don't know what it's like being an
alcoholic, or a drug addict. And maybe I don't know how to take care of one, so
maybe it would be better for you if we took a break."

The anger was back. Abby let out a sigh, looking as a group of tourists got on a
bus and a guide began to talk on a microphone. "So that's your decision to
make?" she asked in an accusatory way.

"Maybe," Luka said.

Abby looked at him immediately. If looks could kill, Luka would be seven feet
under. She began to walk away, feeling as if she didn't walk this anger away,
she would explode.

Luka followed. "Abby, you know this is better."

"No, I don't, Luka!" Abby snapped, and stopped walking once more. "Do you even
care about what I want? Or what I feel is best for me?"

Luka stopped, putting his hands on his pockets.

"No," Abby said. "I'm not crippled, or handicapped, or some stupid moron..."

"Abby, I'm doing this because I care about you, and I want you to get better,"
Luka said.

"If that were true you wouldn't be leaving me out in the cold," Abby replied.

"I'm not bailing out on you, Abby," Luka said. "I just..." he let out a sigh of
frustration, not being able to put his thoughts into words. He finally realized
he'd have to be honest if he wanted her to understand. "Abby..." he started
again, but the angry look on her face made him stop. Finally, taking a deep
breath, he decided to fix this mess, eloquently or not.

"Abby, I love you." He watched as a parade of overwhelming emotions flashed
through her face, and he looked down. This was certainly not how he had imagined
telling her, not under these circumstances. "I'm not leaving you in the cold,
Abby, I care about you. But I don't want to be the reason why you relapse, I
don't want that to happen again."

Abby looked down, playing with a ring on her index finger. Well, if this wasn't
an emotional day, then she didn't even want to think about what one felt like.
She started low, only to go high, and now she was low again. She wondered what
came after that.

"Abby," Luka said, staring at the top of her head. "Say something."

Abby only looked to the side watching as the bus of tourists faded away. God she
needed a cigarette. She needed a drink.

"Abby?" Luka asked again.

"What do you want me to say, Luka?" she finally said. "Wow, this is great? Or
take it with a smile? Or fine see you at work?"

"No," Luka replied. "I want you to try to understand why I'm doing this."

Abby let her arms fall to her side in frustration. "See, that's the problem,
Luka, I can't."

"Abby, I went to those meetings, and they said it's better not to be in a
relationship at least a year after detox..."

"That's not every case!" Abby interrupted.

"Abby we're not married!" Luka replied, raising his voice. "We can't
communicate, you never talk to me. I can't help you if you don't let me, and you
don't let me, so I don't know what to do. And that just makes me more stressed,
and it makes you stressed, and you shouldn't have to worry about us right now."

Abby just shook her head, letting out a sigh.

"We're not breaking up, Abby, we're just taking a break," Luka repeated in a
lower tone, praying that she could understand, praying he could understand as
well tomorrow morning.

"So why does it feel like we are?" Abby asked and looked up at him. "You think
this is good for my recovery, Luka, but is it good for us?"

The through hadn't passed through Luka's mind. He really didn't feel like they
had a choice. It was either this, or Abby relapsing again. He couldn't afford
that. Neither could she. "I guess you have to trust me," Luka said.

Abby just looked down. When she came over she was expecting to apologize for her
mistake, and hoping Luka would forgive her. She was sure he would forgive her.
She knew Luka would, he always did.

"Well," she said as she balanced herself in her feet. "I guess since I don't
have a say..."

"You do have a say," Luka said. "I just want you to be selfish for now."

Abby looked up at him, but only briefly. She looked down at the her new pack of
cigarettes peeking through the contents of her purse. God she needed to light
one. "So now what?"

Luka let his hands massage his face for a moment, making him feel a little
better. Until he opened his eyes. He touched her arm tentatively, but she didn't
pull away. "Just, take it easy, and call me if you need anything, and talk to me
at work."

Abby just shook her head. "Night, Luka." She didn't even let one second pass
before she dug into her purse and took out her cigarettes. She didn't know if
Luka was still standing there, but that didn't seem to matter as she took a poof
and felt the nicotine relax her muscles a little.

Her bed. She desperately needed to be in her bed right now. She wanted to crawl
under the covers and never come out. She thought that maybe Luka could be a
reason for her to recover, but now he had bailed out. But didn't he say he loved
her? He had never said that before, never even insinuated it. As hopeful as it
was, it also kept reminding her of the night her father left. He had also said
that he loved her. He had said that this separation was temporary, that he would
talk to a lawyer and they would be together again, together forever. But he had
lied. Well, he didn't lie, it just didn't happen, it fell through the cracks.
Hadn't Maggie said repeatedly that she loved her also? Didn't her brother?
Didn't Richard? The more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself
that she really did was a Pigweed. Get close, learn to love it, die by it.

Her apartment was cold, even thought the night had seemed warm. As she let her
sheets cover her body, she began to wonder if this was really right. The first
time around it hadn't felt this bad, this lonely, this hopeless. Even though she
was lonely, and the situation was bad, and everything should have been hopeless,
she was able to pull through. And she was still stuck on step two.

"I love you, I care about you, I want you to get better, I love you."

Words that would not let her close her eyes and get some sleep. As much as she
wanted to believe Luka was right, as much as she wanted it to be true that what
he was doing was okay, she felt like she was walking into the darkness. She
couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't feel, could only yearn for that which she
knew would destroy her forever. She couldn't let it happen again, but letting it
happen seemed like the only way she could escape from this abyss, the only way
the darkness would disappear.

"Call me if you need anything, talk to me at work, I'll still be here if you
need me."

Words. Just words. Words that were taken away by the wind and disappeared into
the dark clouds. She rolled away from the light, and covered herself head to toe
with her sheets, allowing the darkness to take over.


To be continued...