A KW/LKo Series, Part 10
Never Say Never
By Miesque
miesque48@hotmail.com

SYNOPSIS: Kerry loses her job but finds a friend in Luka.

DISCLAIMER: The characters of Luka Kovac and Kerry Weaver are the sole property of NBC, Amblin Entertainment, Warner Brothers and Constant C

SONG: ‘Stong Enough’ by Sheryl Crow

PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS: Birthday Surprise; A Friend In Need; Once More Unto the Breach; Running Interference; Laughing At Joe’s; Taking Note; Waiting On A Friend; The Last Goodbye 

Kerry just wanted to go somewhere and cry. She had lost her position as ER chief in the blink of an eye, all because she had gone against Romano for a patient. She had been suspended at first, but now Romano was out for blood. Other things had caused the blow-up to occur, of course, but Romano had decided to 'lower the boom' on her, so to speak. All her ambitions, all her struggling...for nothing. It was gone.  

"Ungrateful little bastard," she whispered, whiping her eyes.

How many times had she shown no mercy when other doctors under her watch had bent or broken the rules? Was this some kind of payback? Was it the result of kicking against the goads for too long, and too hard? She had been the pushy one, and it had all finally blown up in her face. She could almost hear Mark Greene calling Doug Ross to tell him about it-laughing at her. She remembered how they had laughed at her at first: Doug imitating her limp, mocking her. The paranoid, fearful side of Kerry believed that they still laughed at her.

Now, she was doing the same things he did. She remembered what the nurses called it: "Doing a Doug." But it was her duty, wasn't it, to care more about the patient than policy? She had told Doug she didn't nail colleagues. And she wouldn't have, if he hadn't pulled her and her staff into the mess he'd caused. That was why she hadn't dragged anyone else into her situation-not even Luka, who she knew would have at least stood by her. But no...she wouldn't do that. This was her own fault. She wasn't going to let him, or anyone else, suffer for her mistakes.

She wondered, bitterly, who would take her place. Mark? Yeah, that's a laugh, she thought. He'll be a popular choice with most of the staff, since they know they can walk all over him. He always tries to be Mr. Congeniality instead of a strong leader-and he's not a great leader, either, she thought. More like a rather incompetent general, sitting backwards on his warhorse, watching disaster occur and not having a clue as to what he should do when the Huns finally pushed for a final, hammering assault. Mark couldn't handle it. She had seen how badly he handed the board over to other attendings, and how his personal life was screwing up everything in his professional life. She snickered to herself. "Strange that my career is going down the crapper, since I don't have a personal life."

She had heard through the grapevine that Mark and Elizabeth were on the verge of breaking up. Sometimes, she could feel sorry for Mark; they had been friends once, before she had allowed Romano to take the chief of staff position. Maybe she had stabbed Mark in the back; but what could she have done? She had seen where the situation was going and knew it was hopeless-the votes had all been counted before the election even took place. If she had sided with Mark, Romano would have made things even more difficult than they were now. Politics, politics.

Right now, she just wished she had someone to talk to.

Kerry immediately thought of Luka. She wished Luka had more ambition-or, maybe he did. He had been an acting chief in Sarajevo...but he had said he didn't want the job. Besides, she figured he wasn't interested in playing politics any more. Politics had destroyed his life, after all.

Kerry sighed, running a hand through her hair. She was sitting in the lounge, trying to collect herself before going out into the ER again, where everyone would be watching her, trying to gauge her reaction to what had happened. She hoped that she wouldn't see Luka; that he would have already gone home. His day had been just as lousy-patients he couldn't save, mainly, and a thousand other stresses. Still, he had carried himself with the same dignity, the same grace. But the limp was back-he looked so exhausted, so worn down. Lately, she had been seeing more grey in his hair. She wondered if he had dyed it before, perhaps a means of denying that age was catching up with him. Maybe he, too, had finally given up on fighting time.

She dug in her pocket for that little sprig of rosemary, and the sprig of rue. Luka had given her that idea, and for some reason, it was working. She had learned, from him, to practice discretion and tact. She still lost her temper easily-still said the wrong thing, but she felt that she was changing a great deal lately. That things were still changing, and she had no choice but to allow it to happen. 

Maybe she was going soft. Lately, she had been more emotional, reacting through her instincts. Before, she had kept her emotions under lock and key, always being brisk and professional, never allowing her feelings to guide her. Now, she found herself talking with her patients, wanting to understand what they were going through, and it was strange to see how they responded to simple compassion. Maybe she felt that if she could understand them, she could understand everything else. Maybe she could understand Luka, too.  

Funny, how she was thinking about his troubles now, rather than her own. Maybe her problems weren't that important any more. She had not reached out to anyone in so long-she had not allowed anyone in, either. That protective wall she had around herself was still pretty sturdy, but lately, it seemed like it wasn't keeping the little hurts out, where they belonged. The 'slings and arrows of outrageous fortune' were piercing through the cracks, wounding her a little more every day. The outrage was losing her position as ER chief. The fortune...well, she hadn't figured out what that was yet.

She fingered the sprig of rosemary, remembering the kindness Luka had shown to her on her birthday, even while under so much stress. Then she got out the sprig of rue, and prayed for grace.

Luka came back from supper and noted how tense everyone still was. Romano still hadn't decided who he wanted as Kerry's replacement. Still, it rankled Luka that Kerry had been demoted, without any kind of support from Mark. He supposed it was Greene's way of getting back at Kerry for allowing Romano to be made chief of staff. But he didn't like it.

He saw Carter and changed direction, heading toward him, avoiding Mark. He was talking to Chuny about a patient, and as soon as the conversation ended, Luka asked him where Kerry was.

"Still in the lounge, I think. We've been avoiding it ever since. She's been in there for an hour now."" Carter said nervously. "Mark's in charge...for now now." He didn't look particulary thrilled about that, either.

"Yeah...of our days and our nights," Luka muttered. John snorted.

"Ambition, Dr. Kovac. Everybody has ambition." 

"True. But look where ambition got Macbeth," Luka said tiredly. "Witches, a bumped-off king in the guest bedroom, a crazy wife obsessed with hard-to-shift stains. Then it was ambulatory forests, rambling soliloquies, and death in battle. Ambition is just fine, but the cost ought to be considered sometimes, too." He thought of what it had cost Kerry. But he didn't really feel sorry for her-he knew she could deal with it in the end, and overcome it. She was a lot stronger than he had been when his life came crashing down around him. He had become weak and exhausted, and had fled from the past like a coward.

He was officially off for the rest of the night, but he felt he needed to talk to Kerry-to offer some kind of support to her. He doubted anyone else had. Still, Luka didn't like playing office politics. He hated having to take up a position with one camp fighting against another. It was a matter of balance, he supposed, as he headed toward the lounge. Luka was always loyal to a friend, but he had given up on politics a long, long time ago. Still, he felt that Kerry had been wronged and something had to be done about it.

He pushed the door open, seeing her sitting there at the table, hands covering her face.

"Kerry?"

She whiped her eyes quickly, and tried to get to her feet. Luka, however, wouldn't allow that. "Sit down," he said, rather harshly. "What happened?" She looked so defeated, so exhausted. She winced slightly, involuntarily, and he knew her leg was hurting her, too. He said nothing about it, knowing too well about her pride. But she looked bruised and battered, as if some cruel, careless person had attacked her very spirit. And in fact, such a person had done just that.  

"Romano...took it all away from me..." 

"Why?" he asked mildly. He sat down close to her, drawing his chair toward her slightly.

"Spite, I guess. The little...frog..." She broke down then, to his great surprise. Her sobs filled the room, and he waited a moment, not sure if he should reach out to her. He hadn't reached out to anyone-he hadn't held another person in his arms in six years. But his instincts told him that she needed to be comforted in some way. He gathered her gently in his arms and let her cry against his chest. She was like a kitten, shivering and shaking against him, her tears dampening his scrub top.

Suddenly, she pulled away, gasping for breath, scrambling to her feet. Luka wasn't too surprised at that, nor was he offended. She was as closed off as him.  

Kerry looked around the, avoiding his direct gaze. She couldn't look into those beautiful eyes. She was afraid she'd burst into tears again. Who would ever believe that Kerry Weaver-the Alpha Bitch of the ER...only, now she was Omega Female-could break down and cry? At least she could be sure Luka wouldn't say anything to anyone about it.

"Listen, you need to calm down," he said calmly, standing up. "Come on." He handed her a box of Kleenex, practically pushed her back down into the chair, and waited until she had blown her nose and dried her tears. With him standing over her, she felt she had to regain her composure. In fact, she felt like some silly teenager, crying over the loss of a nitwit boyfriend. 

"You're going to march out of this room with your head up," Luka said, using a tone he hadn't used since his stint in the army. "You aren't going to look at them. Right?"

She nodded.

"You aren't going to let anyone beat you down. Not now. Right?"

She nodded again, glad to have some strength with her now.

"You're going to look neither to the right nor to the left. You're going to march out of here like only Kerry Weaver would, right?"

Too stunned to speak, startled at his commanding voice, she nodded. 

"Now go."

She stood up, fumbling with her crutch for a moment. He opened the door for her and said nothing as she walked away. Very few people looked at her, mainly out of decency (it would have been like staring at a person with stage fright as they tried to give a speech). Only Mark watched her walk by, but he said nothing-perhaps he was being magnanimous in his moment of triumph. Luka came out of the lounge next, ignoring Malucci's wave goodbye. He followed Kerry out into the night.

"So, where do you want to go?" he asked, catching up with her easily. He slowed his pace to a stroll, his long legs easily matching her fast step.

"I don't know...I just want to walk for a while, that's all."

"Okay." 

He noticed how much difficulty she was having, just walking. She looked so debilitated, so crushed. Finally, he shook his head and looked around for some place to sit. He spotted a bench and guided her toward it. She sat down, breathing out, a sob in her throat.

"I think what you need is a stiff drink," Luka said, sitting down beside her. He put his knees on his elbows, rubbing his hands together. It was a little chilly outside. The wind was blowing fitfully, making him shudder slightly. He was still wearing his scrub top-short sleeves. It was one of those strange nights that wasn't suited for a coat or a T-shirt, but something in between. In fact, Luka remembered nights like this in Croatia. His first son had been conceived on a night just like this...it surprised him to be thinking about that now.

"A drink?" She looked up, whiping her eyes. 

"Yeah. Come on. I see a bar across the street." He helped her back to her feet. He practically carried her across, his arm around her waist. Once inside, she began coughing, hiding her nervousness. How long had it been since any man had put his arm around Kerry's waist? A year? Two years?

Her body still tingled from just that unimportant touch. Contact, she thought. If I make any more contact with him, I'll... 

"Talk about the stereotypical 'smoke filled bar'," Luka said, smiling, causing her to jerk her head away, unable to match his gaze. He didn't seem to notice. He found an empty table and had her sit down. He took the crutch from her, leaning it securely against the table. "I'll go get us some beer."

She nodded and watched him disappear into the crowd. She looked around, assessing the atmosphere more carefully. The tobacco smoke was making her eyes sting a little-or maybe it was just her tears-and it was terribly noisy. Loud music played from the jukebox, people were dancing. She was vastly relieved when Luka returned, carrying two bottles of Budweiser.

"Weak cat piss, this stuff is. Hardly 'stiff'." Luka said, handing her a bottle. "But at least it's cold."

She smiled and drank gratefully, glad to have something cool at last. "I think I'm coming down with a cold!" she shouted over the din. 

"Yeah...or an allergic reaction to tobacco smoke," he yelled back. "Damn, this place is too loud."

"My throat is tickling," she said. The noise died down then, and she looked around, startled. A slower song was playing. She didn't recognize the artist, but the song was familiar. She knew she'd heard it somewhere, not long ago. And even then, the song made her think of her feelings for Luka. Her cheeks reddened as she looked at him-he was looking over his shoulder, and she saw his fine profile. Why did he have to be so damned good-looking? It was like a cruel joke-she couldn't look at him without her heart skipping a beat, and he didn't even realize it. He had no clue at all...

"Don't worry about Romano, Kerry," he said, leaning forward slightly and giving her a particularly charming smile. "I've heard that he intends to give up his job as chief of staff in order to invade Poland."

She covered her mouth, collapsing into giggles. She shook her head, amazed that she could find herself laughing at a time like this. She looked at him, noting his mischievous smile.

"Come on," he said suddenly. "Let's dance." He figured he should try to get her mind off of her troubles. He was good at that-it seemed like he was always doing that for someone. Smoothing ruffled feathers, kissing scraped knees, telling someone a story to distract them and make them smile. He had done that for Jasna, and he had become an expert at it. Still, sometimes, he wished he had someone to soothe away his own aches and pains; someone to distract him from his gloom. 

"Dance? Luka, I have a limp...this crutch..." 

"I have a limp, too, Kerry. Only, in the opposite leg. So we'll dance in circles. Come on..."

He helped her to her feet, moved her carefully out to the dance floor, and pulled her close. The bar became remarkably quiet-even sad-as other couples moved out onto the floor. The place was filled, it seemed, with people like Kerry and Luka-lonely, desperate, fearful, but trying to reach out for some warmth and companionship. Taking a chance.

"I should change my name to Eleanor Rigby," she said tiredly as he slipped his arm around her waist. He glanced down at her, wondering. His life had been pretty damned rotten after November 1991. But hers...it seemed like life had kicked her in the teeth a few times, too. He wondered if that was what drew him to her-she knew a little about loss and grief. She was just as lonely-maybe even more lonely.

Sighing, Kerry rested her head on Luka's chest and relaxed, moving almost timidly to the music. It had been so long since she'd allowed any man to touch her. Not that he was touching her very intimately or anything. His arm was around her waist, his other hand engulfing hers. There was warmth and security in his strong arms-she felt absolutely safe, calm...cared for. 

God, I feel like hell tonight
Tears of rage I cannot fight
I'd be the last to help you understand
Are you strong enough to be my man? 

Nothing's true and nothing's right
So let me be alone tonight
Cause you can't change the way I am
Are you strong enough to be my man? 

Lie to me
I promise I'll believe
Lie to me
But please don't leave 

I have a face I cannot show
I make the rules up as I go
It's try and love me if you can
Are you strong enough to be my man? 

When I've shown you that I just don't care
When I'm throwing punches in the air
When I'm broken down and I can't stand
Will you be strong enough to be my man? 

Lie to me
I promise I'll believe
Lie to me
But please don't leave... 

For once, Kerry's leg didn't hurt. For once, she felt completely at ease. Shyly, she slipped her arms around his neck, and looked up at him. He pulled her a little closer, maybe for balance, or...

"Well," Luka muttered, looking over her head, causing her to come back to reality again. She had become lost in the words, and in his arms. She wondered, fearfully, if he had noticed how she had looked at him; how lost in the fantasy she had become. "Looks like we've been found out."

She jumped, and turned around. Mark and Elizabeth were standing at the door, watching them with surprised expressions on their faces.

Damn, Kerry thought. I let my guard down just once, and look what happens.

She managed to stagger back to the table, where she retreived her crutch. Luka stood there a moment, his face expressionless, before he followed her over. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home. I'm going home."

"Then let me give you a ride..." 

"No. No, Luka. It's all right. Thank you for...being there for me. It was very kind of you, but you shouldn't feel obligated to help. I'll be okay." 

He looked confused, and she didn't hear him call her name over the din as she crutched quickly away. 

It was hard for her to get past the other patrons, and for a moment she had to come face to face with Mark and Elizabeth, who stared at her in amazement. But the worst part, for Kerry Weaver, was walking away from Luka.  

She resolved to avoid him from now on. She still had her job in the ER-though not as chief-and she could work with him as an equal now. But as for her foolish emotions...she would never let herself get carried away again. Never.

Liar, she thought, the tears proving too strong for her willpower.

She heard someone at the bar say, loudly, "Never say never!" and fled into the night, glad the darkness would cover her tears.

To be continued...