A KW/LKo Series, Part 4
Running Interference
By Miesque
miesque48@hotmail.com

Luka got off work at seven in the morning and walked wearily across the street to meet his sister for breakfast. The thought of watching her eat her usual fare of eggs, sausage, toast and jam made his stomach lurch even before he sat down.

"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked, after he only ordered coffee.

"No. I'm not hungry," he said. Of course, he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday afternoon, but he couldn't make himself eat when he wasn't hungry. It was bad enough when he was. Sanja, however, could eat anything her heart desired, except strawberries. Even better, she never gained weight. Unlike a lot of fashion models, she never had to stick her head in the toilet in order to keep her figure-not that Luka would have allowed that kind of thing anyway.

"You have to eat, Luka," she chided.

"I'm not hungry," he repeated sharply.

Sanja sighed and decided to try a different tack. "Well, you'll be pleased to know that I have found a tour guide."

"Really? Who?"

"Dr. Carter. It's his day off today and he offered to give me a tour of the city."

Luka looked at her narrowly. He wasn't sure he liked that idea, but he decided maybe it was better than her going out with Malucci.

"When is he picking you up?" he asked.

"In a few minutes. I hope you don't mind...?"

"No," he lied. Luka did mind, but only vaguely. Still, he felt he could trust Carter to behave himself with Sanja. He figured he was just being over-protective, as usual. Besides, Carter wasn't in any condition to make a serious play for Sanja. At least, not to Luka's way of thinking.

"So you promise to be your usual sweet, charming self about it and not become Dr. Psycho if we should be a little late coming back?"

"Psycho?" Luka raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, well, maybe 'irrational'."

"Don't call me irrational, Sanja. You know I hate it when you call me irrational!" Luka said, giving her his best imitation of a bugged-out Niles Crane. She giggled, then grinned when she saw Carter coming toward them.

"Hi, John, come sit with us!" she said with some enthusiasm. She patted the seat beside her and scooted over.

Carter slid into the seat beside her, noticing her cheerful smile. It made him forget his apprehension...at least, until he caught Luka's icy glare.

"Where do you intend to take my sister?" Luka asked, his voice remarkably mild.

"Uh..."

"Well, how about a Chippendales club?" Sanja said, winking at Luka, who narrowed his eyes at her. Carter paled. She just laughed. "I'm only kidding, Luka. Don't be such a buzzkill!"

Luka only shrugged.
                                           
"Oh, and I was hoping to see the Field Museum, and Wiggley Field."

"That's 'Wrigley'," Carter corrected her, laughing. "Wrigley Field."

"Whatever. And I'd love to see a movie, if you don't mind. I've heard 'American Beauty' is really good. At least it doesn't have subtitles. I went to a huge cineplex in New York once and ended up in the front row...saw 'Life Is Beautiful', I think...or maybe it was 'Il Postino'. I swear I almost had a stroke running back and forth, trying to read those bloody subtitles."

Carter cackled a little at that, but sobered when he saw Luka's expression.

"Maybe we could go to a drive-in theatre," she suggested. "I've always wanted to see one of those."

"I don't think there are any around here," Carter informed her.

"You would know that, right, John?" Luka asked. Carter could only give him an ingratiating smile.

Luka eyed Sanja's plate of fried eggs and sausage, and she pushed it toward him. "Here, at least eat the sausage."

He shook his head. "I have to go. I'm exhausted." He stood up slowly, groaning. His leg was really hurting now. "I trust, John, that you will be a gentleman?"

"Yes. Absolutely, Dr. Kovac." John meant it. He had asked Sanja to tour the city with him on a kind of impulse, but he knew that Luka could do some serious damage to him if Sanja came back with so much as a mild case of the sniffles. Oh, yeah, Carter thought. I'm gonna be a perfect gentleman.

Luka nodded and walked away, unable to hide his painful limp. At this point, he was so tired he didn't really give a damn. All Luka wanted now was a good month or so to sleep. Unfortunately, he had to be back at work at six that night.

Carter noticed Luka's awkward gait and looked at Sanja. "Why does he limp?"

"He was shot...in the war." That wasn't technically true. But it was close to the truth. Luka had been shot during the war. The circumstances were certainly nobody's business but Luka's.

Carter noticed the slightly wary expression on her face, and dropped it, but that bit of information sure was a surprise. Luka had been shot? But then again, Luka had been in a country at war, so it didn't seem unreasonable. Well, he thought, at least he knows what it's like.

Sanja smiled at him, and he got up and took the seat opposite her. She watched him for a moment. He was awfully cute-a lot cuter than the French guys she dated. There was something kind of sweet and innocent about John Carter, but there was a strange kind of hardness to him as well, and a bit of darkness behind his eyes: it made him look older than his years. But he was really nice, and she liked him. But as for telling anyone about Luka's past...out of the question. That was for Luka to do, not her. But Sanja still intended to have a conversation with Dr. Weaver.

After she finished her breakfast, she grinned at him. "Well, are you ready to go?"

"Yeah. Sure." He stood up and politely helped her out of the seat. "Maybe we'll go see 'Wiggley' Field first," he suggested.

She laughed and punched him playfully on the arm.



Luka sat at the admit desk, going over patient files, catching up on tons of paperwork. He was triage supervisor for the night, but that didn't mean he was off-duty regarding seeing countless patients with asthma, coughs, colds, alcoholic tremors and screaming fits. Luka had just seen a little girl that had put her finger through a skeleton keyhole, and had finally been forced to call the bonecutters from surgery to come down and snap the metal lock off with their giant hedgeclipper. He had found himself wincing at the scene, but the girl came out of the experience with only a slightly red finger and the knowledge that sticking her fingers in holes wasn't such a good idea. He was finally able to sit down after almost four hours on his feet. At least his leg wasn't bothering him too badly now.

Andrew was taking calls, and he interrupted Luka's thoughts. "Dr. Kovac, Dr. Carter is on line three...he says he needs to talk you. It's kind of an emergency," he said. Luka picked up the phone at his elbow.

"What?"

"Dr. Kovac? Uh...this is Dr. Carter. Your sister..."

"My sister is what?" Luka asked, panic surging through him.

"She's okay...she just has this rash. She's red..."

"Red?"

"Yeah."

"What did she eat?"

"I mean, we had dinner and we went back to the hotel and she ordered room service and we were..."

"What. Did. She. Eat?!" Luka growled, causing Kerry, who was standing nearby, to look up, alarmed.

"Strawberries. She ate some strawberries, and we were drinking some champagne. That's when she started getting red."

Relief washed over Luka. It was just strawberries. "All right. Bring her in and I'll give her a shot of cortisone. Is she swelling up or anything? Can she breathe?"

"Yeah. She's fine, except for being red."

"Okay. Bring her in."

Luka hung up and sat there for a moment, then he just burst into laughter. Strawberries. He had told her a thousand...no, probably a million...times to avoid strawberries as if they were Michael Bolton records. But did she listen? No....

Then, he suddenly sobered. What was Carter doing in her hotel room? And why were they drinking champagne? Still, Luka was determined to remain calm. Until he had a real, strong reason to think otherwise, he trusted John.

He got up, yawned and stretched for a moment, rubbed his eyes, and glanced at Andrew. "When Dr. Carter and an Adriatic lobster arrive, come get me. I'll be in the on-call room, taking a nap."



Kerry was the one who ended up treating Sanja; Luka had to take a GSW victim. She gave Sanja the cortisone shot and some samples of pills Luka had recommended to make the redness go away quickly and safely. "She does this sometimes, and these pills always work," he had told her before running out to the ambulance bay. "It was a process of elimination, after a while. A result of her never listening to me." With this statement, he gave his bright red sister a withering glance and dashed away before Sanja could say anything.

Sanja and Kerry carried on a comfortable conversation until Sanja was ready to leave. She turned and looked at Kerry with a measured eye.

"You like my brother, yes?"

Startled, Kerry stared at her. "Yes, I do. Of course. We all do. He's a very nice man...and an excellent doctor."

"For some reason, I have a feeling he has told you...a few things. Yes?"

Kerry nodded. "Yes. He told me about...Vukovar. He told me about...what happened."

"His wife's name was Monika. They had two children, Jasna and Marko." Sanja looked down. "Luka has a huge heart, Dr. Weaver..."

"Kerry."

Sanja nodded. "He has a huge heart, and emotions to match. He's easy to hurt. Everything hits him so hard, you know? When they were murdered, I thought he'd die, too. Our father died not long after our mother passed. The death certificate said 'heart failure' but the doctor who treated him said he died of a broken heart. Kovacs...we all mate for life. Like wolves and hawks."

"He felt like it was his fault. That he had failed them. He was such a mess after they were killed, Kerry. I mean, a real mess. I think, actually, that he had some kind of breakdown, because he didn't speak for weeks. Hardly even a word. He was in so much pain, physically and mentally...his heart was broken."

"So you think maybe he has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?" Kerry asked, keeping her voice even, to hide her emotions. Sanja shrugged. She didn't know. All she knew was that loved her brother, and wanted him to heal and be happy.

"I was hoping he'd leave...that he'd get out of Croatia. And when he said he was leaving, I was so glad. I knew I'd miss him but it was for the best. He did that for me, actually. He got me out of Croatia before it was too late. I was angry about that at first, but now, I see that he was right. He did the same thing...I guess, for once, he was thinking of himself. He had to get away from it, or he'd go crazy. But it was still hard for him. It still is hard for him."

Kerry nodded, unable to speak.

"I just hope you'll be kind to him. He needs some kindness...some compassion. He's always trying to save the world, to protect everyone, and he forgets to protect himself, and he gets beaten down by it all...he's always had problems with depression, even before. I never really noticed it as a kid, but now that I look back at things that happened, I know now that he had some problems. I'm not sure why; he just always has had trouble with it. He just needs someone to talk to, because all his life he's been everyone else's tower of strength, but...he doesn't have anyone to lean on himself. Ever since Monika died, he's just been so alone. He cares too much, and when things go wrong...well, he can't really cope. It looks like he does, but he really doesn't. He only has so much strength. I mean, after all he's been through, he doesn't sweat the small stuff. You can insult him, kick him, treat him like crap, but if he sees someone small and weak being hurt, he can be utterly ruthless."

"Yes...I've seen that," Kerry said quietly. She remembered Paulie Johnson in particular. Luka had actually goaded the man into hitting him, all to prove a point. Kerry didn't know any other man who'd do a thing like that-but Luka wasn't like any man she'd ever known. All that humiliation to try and rescue that poor woman, and she had gone back to the little greaseball anyway. Sadly, Luka had not learned how to keep a distance. And he had not yet learned that he just couldn't save everybody. It had to be emotionally taxing for him.

Of course, on that very same day, Kerry had fired Luka-dismissed him without even looking at him, as if he were nothing. She was still kicking herself about that, even though he had forgiven her.

Sanja gathered up her coat and her purse. "I'm only saying this because...well, because I think that there's something between you and Luka. He needs a friend as much as he needs a..."

Malik came in just then. "Dr. Weaver, we've got a multiple-victim MVA just rolling in."

"It's okay." Sanja smiled. "Thank you, Dr. Weaver."

Kerry rushed out to the ambulance bay, and Luka was already waiting. He looked so damned good, and so damned tired all at once. But she pulled herself back to reality and got to work.


To be continued...