Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, only the ones I created.

Author's notes: I guess I have nothing to say here. A little surprise in this
chapter. I know most of you are a little confused but hang in there, it'll all
be explained as the story goes on, I promise. Remember the flashbacks are
enclosed in 3 periods (...)



"Touched With Fire" by Carolina (Part 3 of Fire and Rain)



  "You're right about that, Greg. And brace yourselves everyone, because we
have one more day, of rain, rain, rain! A low pressure coming from the
Great..."

  Out of habit, his arm raised by itself and shut off the alarm clock. For a
moment, he thought he was back home, so he searched for the remote control on
the night stand. But there was nothing there, so he opened his eyes and let out
a grunt.

  Oh, right.

  He sat on the bed, looking around the place and trying to wake himself up. It
had been a disturbing night of infomercials and Saturday Night Live reruns, and
as he walked into the bathroom, he was very careful to not look at himself in
the mirror.

  Too late.

  He took a long look at his face. It suddenly seemed like the last time he had
seen himself in the mirror was years ago, when he had the energy and
willingness of a 13 year old. He could still see treaces of that old Luka, if
he watched close enough. He could almost hear him, like an alter trying to
escape his mind and come out into the world, to see what he had missed, to see
if he could fix Luka Kovac. But he would not let him.

  Breakfast was squeezed in between the hotel and the convention center, while
he tried to concentrate on the road. He knew eating while doing other things
always gave him a stomach ache, but at this point he wouldn't mind a little
physical pain, at least those could be cured with a little Tums.

  It was still raining. God, he hated this weather. It was chilling, but
raining, not snowing or hailing. As he pulled over, he turned off the engine
and just sat there, watching as doctors ran in, covering their heads with
newspapers and coats. He waited.

  Then he waited some more.

  The sound of the rain was like a smoothing lullaby, and as he closed his eyes
and laid his head back on the seat, he remembered the last time it rained this
hard.


  ..."What happened? Where is he?"

  "Elizabeth," he said, startled, drained, heartbroken, miserable and
completely out of this world. "I, I..."...


  A tap on the shield. "Hey, buddy."

  Luka opened his eyes and looked out the window, the smiley face of Dr. Jensen
covered by a big black umbrella. He smiled.

  "Conference is about to start, we're gonna be late," Dr. Jensen said.

  Luka gathered his things, and opened the door, glad Dr. Jensen wanted to
share the umbrella with him.

  "Sorry I woke you," Dr. Jensen said as they began to walk in.

  "I wasn't sleeping," Luka called out over the sound of the rain.

  Dr. Jensen didn't seem to hear that, or didn't give it much importance as
they walked in and he closed the umbrella. "I bet you're not used to this kind
of weather."

  Luka looked out as the rain fell, "A little."

  "I've been known to do crazy things, but I'd never work on this damn city,"
Jensen said as if he had suddenly turned angry at Luka.

  Luka smiled, "You have to be out of your mind."

~*~

  'Don't look around, don't look around,' his mind chastized over and over. The
man on the podium had managed to send the majority of the audience into a deep
sleep, and Luka himself was fighting hard to keep his head above the water.
Thank God for technology and recorders.

  He shifted on his seat, watching as Jensen drew cartoons of airplanes and
soldiers on his pad. He wished he could be soothed by such trivial things right
then.

 The microphone screeched, and all the sleeping doctors woke up, startled.

  "Ok, thank you, Dr. Morgan," another man said and the audience clapped
weakly. "Why don't you all go for lunch, and we'll meet back here at 1 again."

  Luka stood up and grabbed his coat and the sound of hundreds of people doing
the same reminded him of the calmness of the sea. The great Pacific had been a
good listener, the best therapist.

  "Treat you up for lunch at that Mexican place?" Dr. Jensen said as he put on
his coat.

  "I don't think we'd be able to make it in time," Luka said, but realized
Jensen wasn't even listening to him. Luka followed his gaze and realized the
man was just looking at another female doctor. "I'm sure she'd love to,
though," he added teasingly.

  Jensen gave Luka a weary smile, and walked away, offering the woman his
umbrella.

  Luka watched them go and shook his head. Looked like another day of cold
sandwiches and old coffee again. There was already a big line in front of the
tables, and he doubted the'd be anything left when his turn came, so he decided
to grab a soda and squeezed his way past everyone, and out the door.

  When he was little he loved rain. Him and his brother would run out and jump
in and out of puddles of muddy water. They'd turn on the water hose and drench
each other as rubber toys laid around the yard. Then, exhausted, he'd fall back
on the ground and looked at the sky as thousands of drops fell on his skin.
He'd open his mouth and catch them there, and then swallow the sweet natural
rain. It was inevitably followed by his mother's screams and a bad case of a
cold.

  But that was different. American rain and Croatian rain were different. But
there were many differences between America and Croatia and long ago he had
learned not to compare. Both countries were part of who he was and it almost
seemed as if home was somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic.

  He put his hands on his coat, and sniffed the cold air. As he looked down at
his shoes, he couldn't help but notice they were old and ragged. Not a good
impression, although most everyone around here didn't seem to be aware he was
standing there.

  He was wrong again.

  There was that familiar feeling again, those eyes. Even through a telescope,
he could recognize them. Even after a transplant. Millions of voices inside his
head begged him to walk away, and other millions were telling him to suck it
up. He listened to neither as he turned to his side.

  A burning sensation. Shudder... switch... and the old Luka was back.

  "Thought you could use a sandwich."

  He shrugged his shoulders, and was pretty sure he looked like a deer caught
by the headlights of a very heavy truck, driven by men he knew wouldn't stop.
In a matter of microseconds, he imprinted this memory on his mind. He took a
photograph to take back, one that he would keep on the back of his mind for
future remembrance. Same height, same weight, longer hair, curled, her voice
sounded the same, and like a fool, his eyes immediately inspected her ring
finger. Typical ex boyfriend behavior, he thought.

 'Say something, asshole,' his mind said as he watched the sandwich she was
offering him. He smiled and took it in his hand, "Thank you."

  Abby looked up at him for a brief second, and turned towards the rain,
knowing well that even if she fought with all her might to come up with
something to say, she wouldn't be able to. His hair was grayer, his eyes tired.
He looked taller, maybe skinnier.

  She looked down at her sandwich as she unwrapped the plastic covering, and
just listened to the rain, because it suddenly seemed like everyone else had
gone inside. They hadn't.

  "How have you been?" Luka asked all of a sudden, unable to look down at her,
and kicking the water under his shoes.

  Abby looked up at him, and then towards the parking lot. "I'm good. You?"

  Luka pressed his lips together and nodded. "Yeah, good... too."

  "Didn't expect to see you here," she added, taking a bite of her sandwich.

  "Change of plans," Luka said.

  Abby closed her eyes and looked down. His accent was nearly gone. That which
was once turned every woman in the ER crazy was there no more. Not a fatal
loss, but it made her realize 5 years had gone by, or maybe 500.

  "Hey, Ab."

  They both looked to their side, where a man waved at her, smiling and
motioning to two bottles of juices.

  Abby smiled back at him and turned to Luka and after a few sedconds added,
"I'll see you around, ok?"

  Luka watched as she made some sort of nervous wave with her hand and walked
away. "Yeah," he said after she was gone. He looked at the rain again, and
wondered if the last 5 minutes had happened or if it had been a memory, a
flashback. He frowned, and looked her way again, she was gone.

  One time he had a dream in which Daniela walked into his hotel room, with a
bag of groceries in her arms. Suddenly there was a kitchen and she began to
make his favorite dish. He stood up, and kissed her, and embraced her for the
longest time. It had felt real, he had touched her, he had kissed her, she was
there. But it was a dream. 

  He wondered if the opposite had happened. He remembered waking up that
morning, but he wondered if the rest was surreal.

~*~

Jeremia was a bullfrog. He was a good friend of his. Jeremia could offer him
some of his good wine, but he couldn't get him out of this jam.

  "Dammit!" he hissed as he kicked the empty tire of the rental car. Rain was
pouring down a in rage, like tiny icicles penetrating his skin. He couldn't do
anything else than get in and sit back.

  He could drive anyway, and risk ruining the tire. It wasn't his car anyway.
But he decided to sit there for a moment, listening to the silence. He listened
until the silence actually began to have a noise, a noise that pressed on his
ears tight. Maybe if he slept there, he would save a lot of time the morning
after.

  A horn. Damn the horn. He opened his eyes and was blinded by the headlights
of a car, and as he put his arm in front of his eyes, they were shut off. An
umbrella peeked itself out of the car, and he rolled down the window a little.
Great. A minute ago he thought things couldn't possibly get worse. His margin
of error was widening to unacceptable levels.

  "Is everything ok?" Abby asked as she tried to look inside.

  Luka motioned forward, "Flat tire."

  In an impulse, Abby looked at the tires on her side, but they were both ok.
She sniffed. "Do you need a ride?"

  Red alert, red alert. Luka shook his head, "No, I'm just going to call a
cab." A white lie never killed anyone.

  Abby looked up and around. It was dark, and the road was practically empty.
"From where?"

  Rule number one of lying, always make sure your lie is backed up by fake
proof.

  Abby squinted her eyes, as if she was looking straight into the sun. "Where
are you staying?"

  Luka looked up, "Same place."

  Abby nodded, feeling her back being sprayed by the rain. "Do you wanna...
grab a cup of coffee?"

  No, no, NO! He looked at his watch, to maybe give out the idea that he had
somewhere to be. But he didn't, and she knew that, but she also knew that she
wasn't going to have coffee with just a friend. Damn the way she always found a
way to take them both into rollercoaster rides.

  Abby noticed his reluctance, and she wanted to backpedal, but there was a
little voice telling her this was it. He would leave again, and they wouldn't
be able to say good bye... again. "I just wanted to know what you were up to...
but you don't have to."

  The sound of the rain was becoming louder and louder. And he let out a small
spurt of breath. "Yeah, sure."

~*~

  How many times had he gone up these stairs before? Running, walking, tired,
carrying groceries, chasing after Abby as she giggled, and he laughed. It
seemed like decades ago, yet as he took each step, the memories became more and
more clear, more defined, more recent.

  He halls were still painted the same color and so was her door, and it was
like re descovering a lost city. She took out her keys, and gave him somewhat
of a nervous look. He knew what she was thinking and he was thinking the same,
probably not a good idea to go into that apartment again, with Abby, when it
was raining outside. He was sure he had seen this scene in hundreds of movies
before, and they always ended with the man sneaking out of bed in the morning.

  She opened the door, and the same smell hit him in the face. She still lit
the same candles, and her smell was still in the air. It was partially lit, as
usual, but there was new furniture. He couldn't help but notice, though, that
although the air remained, it was more playful now, more innocent, happier. It
made him queasy.

  He walked in hesitantly as Abby put her keys on a nearby plate. He almost
jumped when a young girl came out of the room.

  "Hey," Abby said quietly, as Luka looked in ignorance.

  "How was the conference?" the girl asked.

  "Boring," Abby simply said, taking off her coat. She motioned for Luka to do
the same and he obliged.

  "Well," the girl started, looking at Luka in amusement. "This is my cue
then." She put her coat on and grabbed her back pack. "She's been sleeping for
2 hours."

  "Thanks, Steff," Abby said. "Do you need a ride?"

  "No, I can take a cab," the girl said.

  Abby walked over and handed her a couple of bills, and Steffanie took that
chance to lean over and whisper, "Isn't that the guy from the picture?"

  Abby pushed the young girl out and closed the door behind her. She stood
there for a moment, with her back against her old place, and turned around with
a nervous smile.

  Luka raised his eyebrows, understanding her uncomfort. "Who was that?" he
asked.

  "Uhhh," Abby said, scratching her head and looking around the place, trying
to come up with coherent words. "Um, I, um, there's... there's someone I want
you to meet."

  Luka didn't like the sound of that, but when Abby began walking past him and
towards the bedrooms, he slowly followed. She opened the spare room where they
used to keep all their books and trinkets and he almost fell back when he
realized it was a nursery.

  His stomach clenched.

  Abby walked over the edge of a crib, with an expression on her face he had
never seen before. She was radiant, happy, an Abby he had never met. And it
added more to her beauty.

  She turned around with a smile and motioned him to come over, but Luka was
too scared to see what was inside. He held on to the door frame for a while,
feeling... feeling something. Feeling jealous, scared, maybe betrayed. But he
gulped that down and did as she told.

  It must have taken him hours, but he finally reached her side. He looked down
in trepidation, but his expression eased when he looked at the little figure on
the small crib, fast asleep, and looking like an angel.

  "This is Liliana," Abby said proudly, looking down at the baby as well.
 
  Luka was confused, and... well, confused. He looked at Abby again, "I
thought..." he looked at her ring finger again... bare. "I, I..."

  Abby let out a soft chuckle. "She's not mine... or, well, she IS mine, but,
um, she... I adopted her."

  Luka nodded, and somehow everything made sense. He looked down at the baby
girl. Well, he could have deducted she was adopted, because there's no way she
could have come from Abby herself, unless the father was Juan Valdez. Her
slightly tanned skin looked so soft, he felt the impulse to touch it, and her
black sliky hair had that smell no one, not even himself, could resist.

  He looked up at Abby again, with a questioning expression. "How, how, did
you?"

  Abby motioned him to follow her out, and turned off the lights. Luka followed
her and sat on the couch, and she went to the kitchen to make some coffee. As
the seconds passed, he grew more confused, as thousands of feelings engulfed
him inside. Mostly, though, what seemed to stand out the most was: why?


... "Luka... I, I can't have a baby."...


  The smell of brewing coffee made him look up, and Abby handed him a cup and
proceeded to seat on the couch he was sitting, but not too close, both on
different sides.
 
  "I didn't plan it," she started as she rested the cup on her thigh and
crossed his legs. "Um, I was working in OB one day, and this young girl came
in. She, uh, she was in labor, and, uh, I had seen her before. She was 19, and,
um, her parents are back in... I don't know, somewhere in South America. She
was supposed to be going to college, but, well, her boyfriend got her pregnant,
and he bailed out."

  She shook her head, "She was really scared, and everytime she came in I tried
to reassure her that everything would be ok. See, her boyfriend is white, and,
uh, his parents had a moral objection about him dating her, so he just denied
the baby was his. She decided to have it, because she thought she would go to
hell if she had an abortion." She thought of that for a while and raised her
eyebrows. "I was her OB whenever she came in and I was on duty, and I was there
through her labor. I knew she didn't want the baby, but, um, I still tried to
encourage her."

  Luka watched intensely, listening to every word as if they were his own.
Everything seemed too unbelievable to him, like something taken out of a book.
He was still confused, more than anything.

  Abby scratched her forehead, and took a deep breath, "I came home one day,
and, um, there was a bundle in front of my door." She chuckled, "There was a
note, and, um, the rest is history I guess. The only thing she requested was
for me to name her Lilianna because that was the name of her grandmother. She's
9 months and 2 weeks old."

  Luka smiled, but he wasn't sure it was a genuine smile. He stared at her long
after she finished talking, and she looked almost complete. He knew these
feelings were entirely selfish, but he could not help it. As much as he tried
to push them away, they kept pushing themselves in. "Um," he shook his head,
"How did you..."

  "Make time?" Abby asked.

  That was not the question Luka was going to ask, but it was good enough for
now.

  "Kerry helped me a lot. Um, we didn't know if I could keep her, because you
know how social services are about this. I didn't know if I wanted to keep her
either." She let out a sigh, "The first thing I did after I saw that baby at my
door was to go to the nearest police station to drop her off. I talked to
social services and they wanted to put her on a home, and, um, I know how those
places are, so I decided to take care of her that night. It only took one
night. I just feel in love with her," she said sincerely.

  Luka nodded, looking down at her cup of coffee, small little stuffed animals
spread across the living room. He took a deep breath and leaned back, a serious
expression on his face.

  Abby noticed this and put her cup of coffee on the center table, "Luka, I
didn't plan it..."

  "I think I should go," he said, standing up. Before he could make it half way
through the living room, though, and as if on cue, a soft cry came from the
room.

  Abby watched Luka for a moment, the look on her face apologizing for
something they both knew what it was, and just walked pass him and into the
nursery. Luka stood there for a moment, trying to sink everything in. He knew
coming back to Chicago would be painful, but not this painful. He reached for
his coat.

  "Hey," Abby smiled as she walked into the nursery, where the baby was sitting
down, tears running down her face. "It's ok," she cooed.

  "Mama," baby Liliana cried as Abby stroked her in her arms, and the cries
became softer and softer.

  "Shh shh," Abby paced around the room. She didn't even stop when a figure
stood at the door.

  Luka watched her, not being able to take his eyes of that scene. He closed
his eyes, trying to dominate his own feelings. He wanted to be happy for her,
but he couldn't. He felt as if someone had reached inside and taken his stomach
out. Life, again, had proved to be unfair.

  He took a deep breath, looking down at the floor, and held it in. "How," he
stopped and continued, "We never... talked about..."

  "It was a mess, Luka," Abby said, shaking her head.

  Luka bit his lip, looking down. "I wanted this, Abby."

  Abby stopped pacing, looking down, the baby asleep on her shoulder. "Me too,"
she said softly, and then looked up at him, "You left."

  There was the stab Luka had been waiting for all night long, and yet he
didn't know it would hurt his much. He kept looking down at the pink carpet, so
many feelings centrifuging inside of him, that it left him empty. Without
looking up, he softly murmured, "I should go."

  Abby waited until he was gone to raise her head, and as soon as she heard the
door close, she sat down on a rocking chair, and even after the baby slept, she
still cooed, mostly to herself.

~*~

  The door closed heavily behind him, and he could feel nothing inside of him
but pure rage. Rage ran through his veins, rage was pumped out of his heart and
rage was taking over his body.

  Why did this always had to happen? Why did she always made him so damn angry?
It was a torture, one he couldn't endure anymore. He sat on his bed, and buried
his head on his hands for a few seconds. Unplugging the alarm clock from the
wall, he laid back. It took him a couple of minutes to realize he still had his
shoes on.

  There was a small fly flying over and over into the lightbulb of the lamp.
Over and over and over again. He watched it carefully, and a bond was made. Two
things would happen, either the fly would knock itself dead and fall on the
table, or she woluld get whatever it was she wanted from the bulb. It was very
easy to knock oneself unconscious. Safer, quicker, got the job done... but sad.


  He closed his eyes, feeling his body falling down onto a mahogany surface.


  ..."I can't have a baby," her voice was soft, and vulnerable, almost
trembling.

  "Abby, you don't have to be scared of manic-depression..."

  "I can't have a baby, Luka," her voice was stronger, yet pained.

  Luka shook his head in confusion, and hurt. "Why?"

  She started to cry.

  Luka reached for her arm, confused. "Abby," he whispered.

  She finally raised her head from her hands, her face soaked. She sat back on
the couch and took a deep breath, but the tears would not stop falling. "I, I
was pregnant before," she whimpered before gathering her strenght. "I just
couldn't do it, I just couldn't do it again. But they did something wrong," she
said in a stronger voice, almost whispering, as if she wasn't crying at all.
"We can't have a baby, Luka. I'm sorry," she whimpered again...


To be continued...

~Carolina~
"I appear at times merry and in good heart, talk, too, before others quite
reasonably, and it looks as if I feel, too, God knows how well within my skin.
Yet the soul mantains its deathly sleep and the heart bleeds from a thousand
wounds." -Hugo Wolf