Disclaimer: None of the ER characters belong to me.

Author's notes: Stop me, I cannot keep starting stories like this, I
don't have time! I borrowed the name from James Taylor's song "Fire
and Rain", which always makes me feel a little sad, but it's a great
song. Sorry this part is so short, I usually write a lot. The next
parts will be longer, I promise. Just to let you know, scenes enclosed
in periods (...) are flashbacks, since I can't use Italics on these
boards.

Summary: I don't wanna give anything away, so just go ahead and read.
There are no spoilers or anything, and it'll all be explained as the
story progresses.

Rating: PG-13 for now.

On with the show...


  "Fire and Rain" by Carolina


  This was a bad idea. A bad idea. He didn't want to be here. Chicago
was not home. Croatia wasn't home either. Both places held bad
memories; both had chewed him alive and spit him out west. He would
always go back to Croatia to visit his family, but there was no reason
to be in Chicago.

  Everything looked the same, a new building here, a new mall there.
But still the same streets, the same darkness that made the city lose
all it's appeal. Darkness in Chicago to him was the symbol for bad
things. But he tried to put that aside for now. Still, as he drove
through places where he had driven before, memories kept popping up.
The route he used to take on his morning walks, the bakery where he
bought his bread, the El tracks, an unfortunate walk by the river.

  He didn't need to look to the small map sitting on the passenger
seat to know where he was going. Some things had changed, but
everything looked exactly the way he left them almost 5 years ago.
Strangely enough some things change on the outside, but in the inside
they always remain the same. He tried to fool himself into thinking he
was one of these things, but he knew well that even though Chicago was
the same place, he wasn't the same person.

  As he drove, he rubbed his shoulder, feeling the tension building on
the nape of his neck. It had been a while since he had a good night
sleep and just when things were beginning to seem a little
comfortable, here he was again. His heart had been tugging at his
chest as soon as he found out he would be coming back, it practically
stopped beating as soon as he stepped out of the airport and it was
still beating irregularly. It was painful. Being back here hurt,
almost as much as going back to Croatia. Too many things made him want
to crawl into a hole and die. In a weird way, he was still missing the
people, his job. One thing stood out most than all, but all in all,
being back here was a mistake, and he knew it, but a part of him he
didn't know existed had dragged him back.

  He pulled the rental car in front of the hotel and took his bag out
of the trunk. Without a word, he nodded at the Valet guy and walked
in. There was a new receptionist, not that he was expecting to see the
old one, but she looked young despite her height, and she stood behind
a computer as she chewed her gum, she was obviously shoveled into the
job. He put his bag down and took the papers out of the inside pocket
of his coat.

  "Dr. Kovac?" a man called from behind.

  Luka turned around to see the old manager still there, smiling as if
he had just seen an old friend. Out of courtesy, he extended his hand
and formed a small smile.

  "What are you doing here? I thought you had moved."

  "I did," Luka said. "I'm here on business."

  The manager patted Luka's back, "Well, never mind reservations.
Mindy, put Dr. Kovac here on the penthouse."

  Luka shook his head with a small laugh, "That's not necessary."

  "Nonsense. The best room for my best tenant," the manager quipped.
"How long are you going to be in Chicago?

  "Uh, a week," Luka said.

  "Well it's settled. Do you think I was going to let you get one of
those small rooms?"

  "Well," Luka hesitated, "Thank you."

  "And if you need anything, just ring me up and I'll send someone up
in a second," the manager added.

  "Here you go, sir," Mindy said as she handed him a set of keys.

  Luka took them in his hand and played with them for a moment before
he turned to the manager, "Thank you."

  "Don't mention it. Come and find me one night, we'll have drinks.
Welcome back," the manager said with another tap on Luka's back and
walked off to greet other people.

  Luka smiled as he watched him go and then turned to Mindy, who was
happily blowing a bubble and staring at his behind as if it was a
prime meat cut.

~*~

  The penthouse was definitely better than that little room he had a
while back. There was a huge bed in a separate room and a giant
television stood in the small living room. The only thing missing was
a kitchen, but he didn't intend on spending much time cooking anyway.
There were frames hanging from the walls and fresh flowers in vases on
the tables and even in the bathroom, which itself was built for
royalty. It made him feel a little uncomfortable. He never did like
living in big spaces. Big spaces always reminded him of ways it could
be filled, by people it could be filled, people he didn't know.

  He dropped his bag on the floor and sat on the bed, burying his head
on his hands. He was tired. Of the trip, the drive, his life.
Everything. In fact, he couldn't remember not being tired now. As he
sat there he could feel the years pass by, but as he looked up, he
realized it had just been seconds. He laid back on the bed, shoes and
all, and picked up the phone. After dialing a few familiar numbers, he
closed his eyes and waited.

  "Tom?" he asked as he opened his eyes and looked down for a second.

  "Luka, did you make it safely?" a man on the other end answered.

  "Yes, yes, I'm in the hotel now," Luka said with little enthusiasm.

  "Do you know where you have to go?"

  Luka nodded, "Yes, I just wanted to let you know I made it here."

  "Ok," Tom said. "Listen, thank you for doing this, we owe you big
time."

  "No problem," Luka said, even thought it indeed was a problem.

  "We'll give you a couple of days off when you come back," Tom added
to humor Luka, but it didn't work very well. So he cleared his throat.
"Listen, we're a little busy here, so, call me back, ok?"

  "Yeah, um, I'm going to bed," Luka said.

  "Anything you want me to tell anyone," Tom asked.

  Luka seemed to think about that for a moment and then let out a,
"No."

  "Ok man. See you when you get back," Tom said.

  "Yeah, see you," Luka said and hung up immediately. He let out a
sigh and looked up at the ceiling, realizing that even the ceilings
were carefully painted as if this was the Sistine Chapel. He
maneuvered to take off his shoes with just his feet, but realized he'd
have to get off the bed to actually turn off the lights...


... "Don't turn off the lights, we're not done talking," Luka said
furiously.

  "There's nothing else to talk about."

  "I think there is."
 
  "Luka please, I don't wanna talk about this."

  "I do," he insisted.

  "Just leave me alone."

  "I can't!"...
   

  Another sigh came out of his system. He wished he would have said
no. But no, that idiot Costas had to get sick just a day before the
trip. That was awfully convenient. Now here he was, in no other city
than Chicago. He carefully planned the different ways he could not be
seen. Maybe just get up, go on his business and immediately come back
here. He would have to eat from the hotel, drink from the hotel and
once again, live on the hotel. Luka Kovac was not going to step out
into the streets of Chicago, and he would not let the memories engulf
his mind and slowly kill him as they have been for the past 5 years.


 To be continued...