100Moods/Anxious

ER/Luka Kovac. 005 Anxious
Title: Escape Pt 1
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Anxious
Word Count: 528
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: intro to violence
Summary: (Luka flees Vukovar Part 1 of a series)

"You should get out of the City while you still can..."  He heard the Chief's voice as clearly as he had the last day he saw him. 

"I can't leave them.."  He sipped at the tepid liquid that had replaced the coffee they could no longer come by. 

"Luka...you are alive..they are not...you are still young..go while you can."  The man persisted..then turned at the sound of yelling in the halls which caused both men to hurriedly rise...

"They're coming...they're coming..the Serbs..."  The orderly almost knocked them down as he made his way through the halls, alerting those still in the hospital. 

"Luka..go..there is no time to waste..you are young..if they find you they will kill you."  The man pushed him

"I can't leave you.." He protested...but the man shook his head...

"I have to stay..for the patients..I'm old..I'll be fine..now hurry..go to the basement..and out that way..before you are seen..go!"  He practically pushed the young man down the hall towards the stairs.  "Luka..if you hear anyone..find a place and hide..promise me."  He fixed his eyes on the younger man until he nodded. 

"I promise..." Reluctantly he opened the door and moved to join the others who were already making their way down..

He could feel the panic in the other men as they raced down the stairs in hopes of getting out of the hospital before the soldiers came...they had all heard the stories...they all believed it could never happen to them..but what if they were wrong?  No...it was a hospital...surely that would insure the safety of those inside.  As he hit the ground floor there was a back-up of men..someone had to open the door and look...he forced his way to the front of them..then eased the door open a crack.  Nothing that he could see, he bit his lip...and slid around the door..hugging the wall as he inched his way to the corner...and then he saw them..they were coming..he could see the trucks rounding the corner not two blocks away.  He turned and dashed back to the doorway.

"We have to go now...they're just down the street."  He didn't wait to see if they would follow..he could only think of himself now...he glanced up at the window... hoping for a glimpse of the man who had been his mentor...but he saw no one.  He peeled the white coat off as he ran...tossing it behind some debris...and as the rumble of approaching trucks grew closer he ducked into a bombed out building..digging through the rubble as he looked for someway to conceal himself.  His breathing was ragged from the strain but he knew he couldn't stop..he grabbed at anything in his way..tossing it aside until miraculously he found a small pocket barely large enough to hold him... drawing a deep breath he wedged himself into it then pulled a section of wallboard over the opening...all he could do now was wait...

To be continued

100moods/Scared

ER/Luka Kovac. 087. Scared
Title: Escape Pt 2
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Scared
Word Count: 1044
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Violence
Summary: (Luka flees Vukovar Part 2 of a series, find Pt 1 at 005 Anxious)

At first he'd felt like he was choking...the dust from the broken wallboard seeming to fill his every opening...he shifted position..careful not to make any noise as he wiped it from his eyes...not like it mattered...the darkness prevented him from seeing.  He could hear them though....footfalls crunching on the debris over his head...Oh, God, please don't let them find me...he concentrated on not moving...never realizing how difficult that could be as his muscles seemed to rebel.  He lost track of time...knowing only the burning as the dust scratched his eyes..and seeped into every pore.  

As it grew later his panic at being caught shared space with his increasing thirst..he ran his tongue across his lips...how much longer until they were gone?  He listened as the Serbian soldiers above laughed about what they had done...he could smell the smoke from their cigarettes...and within it all he knew that his fate would be decided within seconds were they to find him.  He bit into his hand as a cough threatened to break...only pulling it out as the need finally passed.

He must have dozed...though how he could sleep with death so close was a mystery... he jerked abruptly awake as first a gunshot then a scream broke the silence of his hiding place.  Time had no meaning anymore..and after what seemed like hours, but what might have been minutes, the voices were gone, leaving only the sound of passing trucks on the street behind.  He was left with his own thoughts then, and in his growing disorientation imagined that he was home...he could hear Jasna's laughter...smell the scent of Danijela's soap as he nuzzled her neck...feel the softness of Marko's hair as he stroked it.  He shifted slightly then groaned as a muscle cramp tore through his calf and forced reality back into his mind.  How much longer could he stay here...how much longer until they found him and his fate became that of his family, or the gunshot victim, or the thousands of others who had died at their hands?

Eventually it was hunger and thirst that forced him from the safety of the blackness... the gnawing consuming him until not even sleep offered an escape from it.  He bit his lip as he slid the wallboard aside..the sound seeming almost deafening.  They could be waiting for him...the thought came unbidden....could, but was death here any more welcome?  He hoisted himself up so that he could see over the edge, it was still dark and the air held the scent of fresh rain...but it was quiet..almost too quiet.  He shimmied the rest of the way out and crawled forward on his belly, as if his staying low to the ground would somehow make his less visible...then peeked his head around the corner..letting his eyes move up and down the street.

His lungs screamed as he ran...and as he zigzagged across the field, dodging bullets and debris, all that mattered was reaching the wall and getting over it.  Watch where you're going.  He shielded his face as a bullet striking nearby sent a spray of gravel up towards him.  Get to the wall.  He found he had to keep reminding himself of the main objective as he barely avoided the bricks and rubble of bombed out buildings that had once been home to people no longer there.  He almost made it. He released an audible groan as a barb of the wire bit into his hand as he grabbed it.  Too late to stop...he hoisted himself up and threw his leg over the top wire.  The memory of the next few minutes played through his mind in slow motion, he felt the bullet rip into his thigh, the momentum so strong that it easily carried him over the top and to the other side.

The ground was littered with debris, shards of glass, broken bricks, plaster, all creating the cushion he lay upon, but none drawing his notice now.  As he lay there stunned by the shock of the bullet and the subsequent fall he realized how close death really was.  He could just stay here...let them come for him and it would all finally be over.  He had no doubt in his mind if he were captured now it would mean his death.  He would be like those at the hospital, or the man who's screams had reached him in hiding, but more importantly, he would be back with his family.  He closed his eyes at the thought, no more worries about the dangers of going for something as simple as food or water.  No more cold because you were living in a building that no longer had heat or electricity.  He moaned softly as even those thoughts were pushed away by the pain that forced itself into the forefront of his consciousness.

Shifting so he could prop himself up on one elbow he looked first to see if they were coming for him before he brought his other hand to his thigh.  How bad was it?  He groaned as numb fingers probed the wound, a mixture of relief mingling with renewed pain as he registered the second opening in the back of his leg that marked the bullet's exit.  Voices drew his attention back towards the city and his decision was made on survival instinct alone...he had to get moving. 

He forced himself to his feet, a cry of anguish escaping as sensation screamed through the leg at the weight on it. He could see the headlights of an approaching vehicle....he knew it meant death was coming for him....for a moment he was frozen a strange fascination remaining at the realization. A bullet striking the ground near him sprayed gravel and broke his trance...his gaze immediately broke and his eyes moved to see where it was fired from. As if to confirm it, a second shot rang out and without thinking he began to run, his gait a staggered lope as he favored his injured leg. If he could reach the treeline he could be safe...safe...alive...

To be continued

100Moods/Exhausted

ER/Luka Kovac. 039. Exhausted
Title: Escape Pt 3
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Exhausted
Word Count: 1199
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Violence
Summary: (Luka flees Vukovar Part 3 of a series, find Pt 1 at 005 Anxious, Pt 2 at 087. Scared)

It had been raining for most of the night but he knew he had to keep going...he had to put distance between himself and the city...between himself and those who would kill him.  Keep to the trees...keep off the main roads...he tried to remember the warnings that had been whispered in the halls and ward rooms of the hospital.  Why hadn't he paid more attention to them?  The thought was lost as he caught his foot on a half buried root and he found himself falling.  A cry of surprise replaced by a choked one of pain at impact and he clutched his leg as he prayed for it to subside. 

He couldn't do this anymore.  He lay there for what seemed like hours but in truth was only minutes trying to catch his breath as the new pain mingled with that which had settled deep inside of him.  Pulling his hand from his thigh he felt the stickiness of the blood from the reopened wound...how much longer could he leave it untreated before it was too late?  Biting his lip he forced himself first to sit and then to stand...he had to keep moving...

As the first streaks of dawn creased the sky he knew that he had gone as far as he could without sleep. After the first day he had taken to traveling by night to avoid the patrols, and while it was safer, it also meant the travel was slower.  When he saw the ruined walls of what had been part of a small house he stumbled towards it warily.  Part of his mind warned him to be cautious, the rest saw as a place of shelter from the seemingly endless rain that had been falling.  It could be a trap...they could be watching even now...waiting for just that right moment to take him prisoner, or worse to kill him. 

He crept closer...stopping every few feet as his eyes swept the fields around it for any signs of movement, then moving again as his ears registered only the steady rain that fell.  When he reached the house he paused again, taking in the pitted plaster and crumbled brick that bore witness to the destruction that had driven the family from it's walls.  Little remained behind, what hadn't been destroyed had long ago been salvaged by others in need.  Only a corner of the roof remained, but it was something and he gratefully sought shelter beneath it.

Groaning, he lowered himself to the ground acknowledging what he had already known as his leg's stiffness told him he had neglected it for far too long.  Unfastening his pants he raised himself enough to ease them down, then bit off a strangled cry as the blood soaked fabric tore itself loose from the wounds.  Gritting his teeth he settled again and probed the wounds...his muscles tensing at the daggers of pain the action brought.  Other then being dirty the wound was better then he expected, the bullet seemed to have exited intact, and at least that was in his favor.  Tearing several strips of fabric off the bottom of his shirt he packed both wounds then bound them tightly, it would have to do..at least for now.  With a weary sigh he eased his pants back up and over the makeshift bandages and leaned back against the damp wall willing himself to rest.

He awoke to pangs of hunger he could no longer ignore, and a cough that signaled the start of even more concerns.  As long as the rain continued he wouldn't go thirsty, but rainwater alone wasn't enough to sustain him, he would have to find food at some point tonight.  He pushed his wet hair back off of his face, only to lose himself in a wave of coughing, how many days had it been?  How many days since the remainder of what had passed as his life had crumbled around him like the walls of this small house?  The grumble of his stomach reminded him again of the moments overriding concern..he had to find food...when had he ate last?  He'd found those two turnips at the edge of a field... yesterday?  No..that had been two days ago..what had he eaten since...had he eaten since?  He rubbed his hand across his face, then clenched his jaw as he forced himself to his feet.

Eyeing the fields as he stood outside the wall he had to force himself to think.  This was a farm, what crops would they have grown?  Was it possible some had been plowed under...that there might be something left for him to find?  Which way?  Where should he go?  The sea...if he got to the sea he could catch a ship..but were there any guarantees that he would find safety even there?  Did it even matter what direction he went?  He brushed his hand back through his hair as his eyes slowly panned the landscape around him, then dropped it as they settled on a short outcropping of trees. 

He had to try...with fresh resolve he moved towards them, keeping his gaze on his feet as he walked through the field.  Nothing, he found his frustration mounting, not a potato...a turnip, not even a wild onion survived, it had been stripped bare like too much of his country.  Out of necessity he stooped and pulled a handful of grass that had taken root, balling the blades he popped them in his mouth.  It was something, maybe he could fool himself into thinking it was more.  As he chewed he started walking again, his gait a shuffling limp as he favored the injured leg. 

How much longer could he do this?  Sleeping by day, existing on next to nothing, he spit the wad of grass out as he walked, the juice only seeming to irritate his throat.  God, please..not something else to worry about, if only the rain would stop, or he could find something warmer to wear.  He found his mind wandering as he tried to find ways to distract himself, anything to keep himself from giving up.  He could be warm in the memories...he could be sleeping under thick blankets wrapped in Danijela's arms.  He could return to the times before rationing when going for food didn't mean risking your life.  He barely noticed the rain as he walked now, his hunger satiated by thick stew and warm buttered bread...if only it could last.

To be continued

100Moods/Shocked

ER/Luka Kovac 088. Shocked
Title: Escape Pt 4
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Shocked
Word Count: 757
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: This chapter contains material that may offend those with sensitive stomachs, discretion is advised.
Summary: (Luka flees Vukovar Part 4 of a series, find Pt 1 at 005. Anxious, Pt 2 at 087. Scared, Pt 3 at 039. Exhausted)

As he crested the rise his vision was down to little more then his hand in front of his face, the worsening rain now joined by a thickening fog brought on by dropping temperatures.  He should stop...should find somewhere to wait it out.  As he stumbled and fell Luka was sent sprawling, a cry of surprise breaking before he could stop it.  Another root...he grabbed his leg...gritting his teeth as he waited for the pain to subside.  As it finally eased he groaned and forced himself up from the muck and to his knees, his eyes searching for the offender.  The cry that broke next was unstoppable...Oh, God, he scrambled back..ignoring the pain of his leg and rocks that tore into him, his eyes locked firmly on the pale hand that now rose from the ground in front of him.

"Isuse Boze..ne."  His eyes dropped to the ground in front of him...the mud...they were in the mud. Had it not been for the rain he would have smelled it.  He wiped his hands on his shirt in a vain attempt to rid himself of the mud, knowing in truth it covered him.  At the realization of what he had found his stomach had already started to heave.  "Isuse Boze..."  He felt the bile rise and knew the battle was lost... doubling over he spent the next several minutes emptying his stomach of what little nourishment it had held.  He was at it's mercy and it's grip was strong...first the grass and turnips, then bile.  When he was sure he had nothing left to give he was wracked by dry heaves that threatened to steal what little strength remained to him. 

As it finally eased he straightened, dragging his arm across his mouth as dulled eyes registered the carnage in front of him.  They hadn't fled...he felt his stomach rise to choke him again as his eyes took in the bloated corpses half buried in the mud around him. What kind of monsters could do this?  He swallowed back a fresh wave of nausea as his eyes settled on the foot of a small child less then an arm's length away from him...he had to get away...

He retreated slowly...scrambling to his feet in realization that even the ground he knelt on was not safe as his hand came in contact with still another body.  Was this his fate?  Would the soldiers return only to make him one more anonymous corpse in to be found by the next person who stumbled into this clearing?  No...he couldn't think that...he had to believe he would find safety...he had to believe he would survive.  He staggered through the trees...aware that he no longer seemed to feel anything.  He could hear his labored breathing...he felt the wetness of the reopening of the bullet wound in his leg...he could smell the stench of death permeating his clothing.  This was his world now...he paused as a wave of coughing hit him...knowing that that simple act could be enough to signal his death. 

As it eased he started moving again...stumbling blindly through the darkness...what if he was going the wrong way?  What if instead of moving closer to safety he was returning to those that would kill him?  He found his mind circling around thoughts of death...how would he die?  Would he be shot on sight?  Would they take him prisoner only to torture him before he was killed?  Would he be left to starve...to meet death slowly?  He tried to push the thoughts away, knowing nothing could be gained from them but unable to fully banish them either.  Would his fate be that of those in the forest...or of those he had left at the hospital?  He groaned at the thought that so many he had known...so many friends...and even family, were now dead.  He bit his lip to hold the anguished cry back...the memories piercing him as deeply as if he had been stabbed by a knife.

There wasn't any escape...he was sure of that now.  Fear had wrapped itself so tightly around him that he seemed barely able to breathe and he was sure the strangled gasps would bring death to him.  Panic was driving him and as he stumbled blindly through the trees all he wanted to do was get away from the bodies...away from the grave that was meant to hide the secrets. 

To be continued

100moods/Broken

ER/Luka Kovac 012 Broken
Title: Escape Pt 5
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Broken
Word Count: 644
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: This chapter contains material that may offend those with sensitive stomachs, discretion is advised.
Summary: (Luka flees Vukovar Part 5 of a series, find Pt 1 at 005. Anxious, Pt 2 at 087. Scared, Pt 3 at 039. Exhausted, Pt 4 at 088. Shocked)

The ghosts... he couldn't stop the ghosts..they were all around him now... circling him, beckoning to him.  His stomach lurched and his mouth was filled with the taste of the bitterness as the image of the small foot surfaced as he ran.  He could touch it...oh, God, it was still warm.  He sank to his knees, clawing the mud away as if the boy was still in front of him...he couldn't breathe.  He felt his own breathing alter in response before seeming to stop completely as he uncovered the small boy's face.  His stomach recoiled...oh God...Marko. There was nothing left for his body to give and still it demanded more...he retched until his throat was raw..then almost gratefully he collapsed to the mud in exhaustion.

It was all his fault...they were all dead because of him.  Danijela... Jasna... little Marko, he was the reason they were dead.  Why hadn't he left Vukovar when Danijela had begged him to take them away?  Why hadn't he sent them ahead if he'd felt himself unable to leave?  How could he have placed his career above their lives?  He couldn't breathe...he had known what was happening, he'd heard the whispered stories in the halls and the wards.  He had treated the injuries and seen the bodies and still he hadn't believed it could happen to them.  How could he have thought they would be immune?  How could he have ignored it all?  He drew his knees to his chest, oblivious to the mud, and the rain, and the cold.  He could hear the keening of the victims...they were screaming their pain...they were dead because of him...he had killed them all...the keening grew louder.

He was done...let them find him...kill him.  As he lay in the mud, he could feel the numbness of shock moving in on him and as much as he feared it, he found himself welcoming it as well.  This place would be his grave...there would be no marker pronouncing him beloved Husband...Father...Son...he would be one more nameless corpse, left to bloat...to rot.  He released a sigh of acceptance, lifting his cheek from the mud before he slid his hand under it.  Suddenly it seemed that nothing else existed but the layers of pain, hunger, and fatigue that were drawing him away from all he had known.

An onset of coughing went unchecked as he lacked even the energy to muffle it.  When it had subsided he closed his eyes...he was so tired, and he pulled the layers over him like welcoming blankets.  Pain...it was the strongest...the warmest.  He imagined the tendrils of infection moving through his bloodstream...rivers of death among the life's flow.  The cuts and the scratches left by stone and brambles...fragments of glass... small slivers under his skin...all small remnants to mark the journey that had brought him here.  His lungs seemed to scream for air now...each breath threatening to tear something loose...or so it seemed. 

He drew the next layer over him...hunger...the hollowness holding it's own pain within it, the acid burning a reminder in case he forgot.  The final layer...fatigue...even more numbing then the blanket of pain, a weighted ache that made each limb seem too heavy to lift.  He was warm now, wrapped in the layers, oblivious to the rain...to the mud...to the night's frosted chill.  Sleep was beckoning him...it was safe there...there would be no ghosts...he could retreat to the dreams...to the time when his world was intact.  He felt the world fading...a cloud of nothingness billowing around him until it seemed to envelope him...and he couldn't help thinking that this must be death...and he wasn't afraid.

100moods/Drained

ER/Luka Kovac 030. Drained
Title: Midnight
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Drained
Word Count: 766
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Contains Spoilers to Kisangani.
Summary: Sleep eludes a drained Luka in the early morning hours of an African day.

He should be trying to get some sleep...but how could he? Standing on the steps of the small clinic Luka stretched and listened to the pop as his back protested the amount of strain he'd been putting on it. It was quiet now...quiet that is if he ignored the sounds of the gunfire in the distance, the quiet moans of his patients inside. Taking a seat on the steps he withdrew the crumpled cigarette package from his pocket and slipped one of the filters into his mouth before lighting it. As he took a long drag he tried to force himself to relax.

He was exhausted, had been for days, he shouldn't be having any trouble finding sleep, so why was he? Gillian...his thoughts went immediately to the woman and he found himself glancing at his watch. If all had gone well she and Carter would have returned to Kisangani...they would be safe and within the week the two of them would return to their homes. With luck she would forget about him, and Carter? He took a long pull on the cigarette as he pictured the fear on the young man's face. How long would it take for him to forget what he had been through? 212

He tipped his head back watching the smoke as it curled around him. If only he could forget...no...that was the problem wasn't it? He didn't want to forget. As long as he found himself immersed in the chaos of the clinic his own life didn't matter. He took yet another drag on the cigarette, letting it burn at his throat before releasing the smoke. How long could he use this place to escape?

He found himself standing as the question surfaced and started down the steps. What kind of a normal person would see this as a place to hide? He stopped as he reached the yard and let his eyes sweep the ground around the clinic. The smell of death...of blood...of sweat, and fear still hung heavy in the air...but still he had volunteered to stay. He took a final pull on the butt before flicking it away only to find himself searching for the glow before walking over to stamp it out.

He was willing to risk his life for these three children and their parents... why? He slapped a mosquito as it bit his neck then wiped the sweat on his pantleg. Did he think he could somehow redeem himself here for all he had done in Chicago? How many lives would he have to save to undo all the damage he had caused to others? Ten, twenty? How many lives would it take would undo the mistakes that had cost Rick his life? How many to make up for almost killing Erin? He swatted yet another mosquito in frustration....how many to finally erase the guilt he felt over the deaths of his own family? 284

Pulling the front of his tee up he wiped the sweat from his face. How long could he hide here? That was what he was doing after all...he knew it, odds were Carter did as well. Would he tell? Glancing at the clinic he cocked his head, making sure it was quiet before walking away from it. He had hid from his past before...after leaving Vukovar, before coming to County...always moving...why had he stopped? What had made him decide to allow people to get close again?

That was the danger wasn't it? When he let people get close to him they always got hurt. Some were lucky...like Carol...somehow she had sensed the danger and escaped before she got hurt..but not Abby. He pulled the pack out again and found himself lighting another cigarette, surprised to see his hands trembling as he did. Abby had given him a chance to feel something and he had wasted it...and yet here he was, allowing himself to do the same thing to Gillian.

Gillian...why had he accepted her offer of companionship? Why hadn't he just focused on the work? He took an overly long draw on the cigarette then released the plume of smoke. Maybe if he stayed here long enough she would return home and forget him. God, he was tired...tired of thinking...tired of worrying about how much pain he had caused to others. He glanced at his watch again, Midnight...he was drained...he needed to try and sleep...he needed to try and find some peace from it all...at least for a few hours, if only that was possible.

100moods/Awake

ER/Luka Kovac 008. Awake
Title: Safe
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac, Carter, Gillian
Prompt: Awake
Word Count: 1048
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Contains Spoilers to The Lost.
Summary: Luka wakes after his rescue in the Congo

Even before he opened his eyes he knew something was different...he was floating...no, not floating. He allowed himself to sniff the air and for the first time in who knew how long his senses weren't overwhelmed by the stench of death. Forcing his eyes open, Luka immediately closed them again, caught off guard by unexpected brightness. "It's all right..." He heard the words, felt a hand on his forehead, and he cautiously opened them again.

"Gillian?" His voice broke with the effort of speaking as he sought confirmation for what he knew had to be a dream.

"Yes..." She brushed her fingers across his forehead then issued a smile in response. "I think the fever has broke."

"Where?" His voice cracked again and he cleared his throat while taking in the area around them. "You found us?"

Gillian smiled at that, smiled even though her eyes grew wet with un-shed tears. "John and I...we had some help though."

"Patrique." The name was enough to voice what he wanted to say and she immediately shushed him with a hand to his lips.

"I know...we found him." She reached for a glass on the small table next to his bed and held it to his lips. "You should drink."

"He was trying to save us...save me.."

"It's all right...you don't have to talk about it..." She wanted to silence him but she knew too that he had to talk about it.

"Chance...her mother?" There was fear on his face again with the question, fear that he alone had been spared.

"They're here...they're both safe." Gillian saw the relief and took that moment to offer the glass again, but after only a couple swallows he lifted his hand to push it away.

"Carter is here?" He seemed only to register the earlier reference.

"Yes, he came back to find you."

His eyes closed again as he nodded his understanding. Setting the glass down again Gillian reached for the cloth that lay soaking in a bowl beside it. As she squeezed the water from it she found herself watching him, not sure if he was still awake or had fallen asleep again.

"Why?" The word came so quietly that she almost missed it.

"Luka?" She wiped his face and waited for his eyes to reopen.

"Why did he come back?" The question was not one she had expected to answer and she resorted to simply shaking her head.

"Maybe you should ask him, he's outside I think, I can go get him." As much as she hated to leave him Gillian knew that this was still part of his understanding all that had happened.

Closing his eyes for a moment Luka considered her offer then opened them again with a nod. "Thank you..." He whispered the words and she sensed there was more to them then just her offer to get Carter.

The smile that followed them was genuine. "For what?" She continued to dab the cloth over his skin, cautious of the numerous cuts and bruises.

"For being here...for finding me." The second was added after a lengthy pause.

What could she say to that? Instead of answering Gillian lay the cloth aside and leaned in to kiss him. "You're welcome." She let the second kiss linger before drawing back as a nurse entered with Carter.

"You're awake." Carter's face reflected relief and a smile broadened across it as he saw Luka.

"Yeah..." The Croatian started to raise himself up only to have Gillian lay a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Too weak to protest he fell back against the thin mattress, his eyes still on the younger man. "Why?" The question had to be asked and it was out before he could stop it.

The corner of Carter's mouth edged up as he approached the bed, then took a seat beside it. "Why, what?"

"You came back..." Luka glanced to Gillian as he once more began to raise himself up off the bed, then dropped with an exasperated sigh as it elicited a glare from her.

"I couldn't just leave you out there."

"You could have been killed." Luka let his eyes settle firmly on the man then frowned as he shrugged in response. "You shouldn't have risked it."

"Too late." Carter smiled yet again, "Besides, I needed the vacation."

"Yeah, sure." Luka wasn't in the least convinced but he was too tired to argue. Sensing his growing fatigue the nurse did what Gillian hadn't been able to do herself.

"You should come back later, he needs rest now." Her words came in halted English for Carter's benefit, as she slipped a thermometer between his lips, then checked his IV.

"Right, get some sleep, we'll talk when you wake up again." Rising he took Luka's offered hand and squeezed it in response. "You look a lot better."

"Not sure I could look worse..." The response came drowsily after the nurse withdrew the thermometer, and if he realized the extent of what he was saying he didn't show it.

"Sure you could have." Carter found himself whispering the words to himself before turning to Gillian. "I'll meet you outside, you need to eat and get some rest yourself." His tone left little room for argument on her part.

"In a minute...." She watched him leave before retaking the seat beside Luka. Already she could tell he was inching towards sleep and she picked the cloth up to wipe his face, prompting him to open his eyes again.

"Leaving?" His voice had grown scratchy and Gillian lay the cloth aside to offer him another sip of water.

"Not because I want to."

"Missed you..." His words trailed off and prompted a smile from her.

"I missed you too..." She brushed his hair from his eyes with the admission. "Sleep now...you're safe..." She continued to stroke his hair until his breathing had slowed and indicated he was asleep. "You're safe..." She wasn't sure if her words were a reassurance to him or meant for her benefit, but she found herself repeating them almost as if they were a mantra until Carter opened the door and interrupted her.

"Gillian..."

With a sigh of resignation, Gillian leaned forward to kiss Luka's forehead, the heat from the fever he still battled warming her lips. "You're safe now...." She repeated the words for him. Only when she was sure he was asleep did she stand and after straightening the light blanket that covered him she reluctantly went to where Carter waited.

100moods/Sick

ER/Luka Kovac 089. Sick
Title: The Return
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac, Gillian
Prompt: Sick
Word Count: 1294
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Contains Spoilers to Dear Abby.
Summary: Luka returns to Chicago

Even before they had fully entered the elevator he felt the exhaustion taking hold of him again and with a resigned sigh Luka let his head loll back against the raised gurney before he eased his eyes closed. Mere moments passed before he felt Gillian's hand on his forehead and with half a smile on his lips he opened them again.

"Tired?" The simple question came quietly as she brushed his bangs off his forehead.

"Yeah..." He was more than tired though, he was worn out from something as simple as smiling and saying hello.

"Your fever is spiking again. " Gillian reached over to adjust the flow on the IV that hung on the right side of the gurney.

"Not that bad..." His accent came heavier as he accepted that he was too tired to control it.

"You need to sleep." Gillian found herself glancing to the floor numbers before looking at him again.

"Always sleeping." His eyes slid closed a moment before he forced them open.

"That's what happens when you're sick..it'll get better, give it time. She found herself smiling at him before laying a hand on his arm. "It hasn't been that long..." She regretted the reference before she finished it and let the words trail off.

"Long enough..." If he caught what she was eluding to Luka let it go.

"You just don't want to be in the hospital." Gillian's smile came more naturally with her comment.

"Rather be home...with you." The corner of his mouth curved upwards and Gillian knew a blush was rising on her cheeks with the deeper meaning.

"I'm sure you would, but not today." She shot a quick glance to the paramedics standing in the elevator with them before looking back at Luka.

"No...not today..." He repeated her words even more quietly as sleep pulled harder on him and he let his eyes close again.

"Almost there." Lifting one hand she began to brush her fingertips across his forehead. The heat coming off his skin was hard to miss and she lifted her eyes quickly to the floor numbers before looking back at him.

"Okay..." His acceptance was barely audible as he sank closer towards sleep. As the car stopped and the doors opened he barely roused and Gillian was sure he was beyond recognizing that they had even exited the car and were approaching his room.

As they reached the nurse's station the paramedics halted and turned their attention to the older woman who rose from behind the desk. "We have a patient for you."

The woman looked between them all, her gaze remaining a beat longer on Luka than on the rest before she returned her attention to them. "His name?"

"Kovac...Dr. Luka Kovac." Gillian found herself intervening. "I'm a nurse...if you can show me his room I can get him settled."

"We have procedures..." Even as she began to talk the woman reached for Luka's chart and quickly scanned it. "Malaria...contusions...probable concussion." The nurse frowned as she read through Luka's chart then lifted her eyes to Gillian again. "His room is over this way, it's one of the observation rooms, we'll be able to watch him from the desk."

"Thank you." Gillian left unsaid that she had no intentions of leaving him much less transferring his care to anyone else.

"We can take him from here." The woman took a position to the back of the gurney replacing one of the two paramedics. "Thank you."

"Yeah..sure, no problem..." The two men exchanged glances before shrugging and moving away.

"As soon as they had stepped aside two more nurses were there to replace them, and it was this exchange that roused Luka again."

"Hey..." Gillian gave him a smile as his eyes slid open.

"Hey..." His voice cracked slightly as he spoke.

"Almost ready to get you settled into your room."

"Okay..." He swept his eyes over the other nurses as well as the corridor as they moved towards the open door of what would be his home for at least the next week.

"All right...my name is Ada, I'm the charge nurse...from what I've seen I think it's time to get you into a gown and get some vitals." The older nurse drew her attention to Luka once they were inside. "Let's get you moved into the bed first though."

"I can do it..." Luka pushed himself upright slightly then immediately regretted it as the room seemed to spin.

"Sure you can, but humor us this time." The woman might have been talking to a child as she and the others began to get him ready to transfer.

Luka released a breath and lay back again knowing he was in no position to argue with the woman.

"Now..on three I want you to slide this way...okay?" The nurses had moved around the gurney and began to take hold of the sheets under him.

"Yeah..." Luka looked between the women before letting his eyes come to rest on Gillian.

"Won't be too long and you can go back to sleep." Gillian offered him a reassuring smile as she spoke.

"Sure?" If she had meant to answer she was stopped from it as the nurses moved Luka to the other bed.

"All right...now, here's a gown...let's get you changed...then we need vitals." She handed him the hospital gown before moving to untie his shoes and pull them off.

"Gillian..." Luka found himself protesting the thought of the woman changing him even though he knew she was only doing her job.

Reading his needs Gillian smiled and nodded to him. "Would you mind if I help him change?"

Ada looked between them and for the first time smiled. "Shy are we? No, go ahead...I'll be right back."

Gillian waited until they had left the room before moving open to help Luka undress. "Careful." She eased his tee up and over his head as she cautioned him, then slowly worked the remaining arm down the IV line until she could feed the bag of Quinine through it. When she turned back she had to force herself not to react to the signs of captivity that his body still revealed. Though the bruises had shifted from vivid purples to duller shades tinged with yellow, the evidence of abuse he had gone through was undeniable. As she helped him into the gown she tried not to let her face reflect her shock to at the sight of his thinness, knowing it was only a matter of time before he filled out again.

"Going to do tests?" Gillian brought her attention to his eyes as the question came.

"Most likely, at the very least they'll draw blood." As she answered she tied the laces at the gown' s neck.

"No blood left." His eyes were drooping again and rather then argue Gillian simply smiled in response.

"Just try and get some sleep while you can." She knew too well that when the nurses returned he would be poked and prodded as they did their own assessment of his condition, and only when they were done would he be allowed the sleep he so desperately needed.

His fatigue seemed that much more obvious as Luka turned on his side to face her, his eyes visible as little more than slits. As she reached over to brush his hair back Gillian saw the more noticeable signs of his illness. "Luka...are you cold?" She noted his increased shivering with the question, a striking contradiction to the sweat that was beginning to coat his skin.

"Just tired..." The words drifted off, fading into nothingness as his eyes closed and sleep once more wrapped itself around him.

100moods/Guilty

ER/Luka Kovac 048. Guilty
Title: Regrets
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Guilty
Word Count: 769
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: spoilers to "Walk Like a Man" included within
Summary: Luka regrets the choices he's made

How much longer could he continue to do this before it destroyed him? As Luka unlocked the door to his apartment the question continued to haunt him. This wasn't like him....he knew that, he was sure Abby did as well, it was like he was watching a stranger possess him. Without conscious thought he tossed his keys on the table and moved to the refrigerator, then pulled the beer from it. He was losing himself...had been losing himself for longer then he wanted to admit. He twisted the cap free and tossed it in the sink before taking a long pull on the bottle.

All those years he had intentionally shut his feelings off...distanced himself so he wouldn't have to risk getting too close. Carol had been the start...he had lowered his guard and allowed first her, then the babies in...he had allowed himself to pretend he was normal. What a fool he had been. He took a deeper draw on the beer. When she had left he had drawn himself even tighter...assuming a front that let others see what he knew wasn't truly there. His time with Abby was a lie..he knew that...she needed him as much as he needed her, but in the end they had done nothing more then cause each other more pain, which had led him to where he was now.

How many more mornings would he wake with someone he felt nothing for? Yes, he could lie to himself and pretend to feel, experience the sensations their lips on his brought to him. Know that their touch on his skin was a sign he was still alive...if only he could find a way to make those feelings last. He took another longer pull on the bottle. Why, when he finally found his release did the numbness that was now his world, return? Was this what death felt like? He downed the rest of the bottle and reached for another before moving into the livingroom. How much of who he was....who he had been, was he willing to sacrifice to feel something?

Dropping onto the couch he loosened his tie, then twisted the cap off before tossing it on the table. What had he been thinking? Had he been thinking at all? He had been willing to risk everything, he had left a sick child alone for fifteen minutes of what? He raised the fresh bottle to his lips. What had he gained from those fifteen minutes in the closet? Amid the hurried desperate fumbling to free buttons and zippers, to feel her skin against his, what had been gained, but more importantly, what had been lost? Yes, there was the instant gratification, the feel of her hand over his skin, her lips, the tightness of her body as she drew him into her...but at what cost?

He drew deeply on the beer as if that could somehow wash away the nausea he was feeling at his actions. He had known it was wrong, but the fact remained...for those brief careless moments he had felt alive and wanted, if only he could find a way to make it last. It had never been like this before...yes he had known his hold was slipping..that he wasn't able to pretend that everything was normal, but he'd never worried that anyone else would notice. He was sure Abby had seen the signs...maybe because in her own way she knew what it was like. Was that why it hadn't worked out between them? He had always thought Abby felt too much, where he knew he was the opposite...and though he could pretend all he wanted he could never make it real.

Even as he finished the beer he knew he would need another...and rising he walked to the refrigerator to get it. What would Danijela have thought of him if she were to meet him now? The thought carried the weight of a blow to the stomach and he grabbed the edge of the sink to steady himself. Would she even recognize what he had fallen to? Maybe the truth was as he had always believed it to be....who he was had died with her and the children that day in the apartment. With an anguished groan he sank to the floor..his back sliding down the cabinet door before he leaned forward and buried his face in his hands...the beer forgotten. The realization was complete...he was losing himself and there was no one to find him again...

100moods/Morose

ER/Luka Kovac 065. Morose
Title: Responsibility
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Morose
Word Count: 683
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: spoilers to "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished" included within
Summary: Luka realizes his life is not what he wishes it was.

He had to leave...that was the only thing he did know. His mind was reeling and nothing he said or did made it stop. Why did it suddenly seem so clear what the problem was? Responsibility...that was the key...he could tell others to take responsibility for their actions...he was good at that wasn't he. Why then couldn't he claim responsibility for his own actions? Blame he was willing to take...he made mistakes, reckless mistakes, life threatening mistakes, and he was always ready to shoulder blame for those. Why then was claiming responsibility so much harder?

He stopped walking all too aware that he hadn't a clue where he was. Stop... breathe... he had to keep reminding himself to do the simple things as he took in his surroundings. With the calming came awareness as well...he was cold, in his hurry to leave he hadn't even bothered to exchange the labcoat for his peacoat. He could feel the eyes on him and as he glanced in a nearby store window he couldn't help but notice the panic still registering on his face. Pulling the glaring white coat off he balled it up and clutched it to him as if it somehow would keep him tied to what was real.

He was slipping even farther away from things...losing his footing on the rapidly crumbling ledge that had been his life for so many years. All those years he had pretended to have healed. All those years he had tried to convince himself that his life was normal. Normal? The very thought of that started him moving again, when was the last time his life had been "normal."

When he and Danijela had met they thought they would have the perfect life...they were young, in love, he would one day be a doctor and they would raise healthy, happy babies. The fantasies of youth...how could he have known then how wrong they both would be about what their lives would hold? How could they have known that they would never grow old together? How could they know that she would die in the dark, dusty rubble that had been their home, knowing her son was already dead and her daughter might well be joining her? How could they have known that the beautiful babies she gave birth to would never know the wonders of learning, the freedom of youth? How could they have known that those beautiful babies would die before they had a chance to know what life was even about? He found the cries choking in his throat, leaving him gasping for air and barely able to see the pavement in front of him.

The tears fell without his even realizing it as he walked and he soon became oblivious to the stares of those he passed. Responsibility. It had been his responsibility to keep them safe, to protect them and he had failed at that and though he had always claimed the blame the responsibility was something else.

Where could he go? Who could he turn to? There was no one...he was alone and that too was a responsibility he had yet to claim. He had tried with Carol, opening himself slowly to let first her, then later the girls inside his walls only to feel the pain of losing them as he had lost so much before. With Abby it had been different, he could allow her in without having to open himself, the wounds that scarred him invisible to her. They neither claimed responsibility for the failures between them, only the blame. They hadn't talked...hadn't revealed more then they absolutely had to...to acknowledge their pasts was to begin to take responsibility and that they could neither do. So they had given what they could, nights in each other's arm...moments of what they could call love, physical comfort because neither could accept the responsibility that would come with anything more permanent then that. Finally though they both realized it wouldn't work and so they had needed to end it through the pain that they both knew too well. He paused to lean against the wall of an abandoned building, gasping for air and wiping the wetness from his face, only then realizing that darkness had begun to fall. Funny how despite it all they had been willing to try again, both willing to take blame for their actions while leaving unspoken who should claim responsibility for what. 299

He could feel the dampness leeching the heat from his body, when had the misting begun that now left his shirt clinging to him and the rivers of water running down his face from his hair? He should stop a cab..go home...but even home wasn't safe. Home was where he brought those that would let him forget. The place where he could be told how lucky he was. The place where he could seek the physical comfort he needed and not have to worry about taking responsibility for his actions.

"Aye, there's the rub..." The quote surfaced without thought...responsibility said it all, even if he failed to claim it, the fact remained it was still his. The thought lingered as he began to walk again...he couldn't do this alone, that much was clear, but where did he turn? Who could he trust to understand? Who could he turn to that would even care? That too was his responsibility to claim, had he given anyone a reason to care? Erin had wanted to and look what he had done to her.

As his depression deepened again the tears returned joining the wetness of the rain on his face. He was alone...he might well be the only person alive for those he could turn to...and that too was a responsibility he had yet to claim...

100moods/Lonely

ER/Luka Kovac 060. Lonely
Title: Stages of Loneliness
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Lonely
Word Count: 543
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers to "Next of Kin" within
Summary: Events at work hit too close to home for Luka

Was Matilda's life his future? Even after he pronounced her he found it hard to leave her alone, the thought that she would be alone in death as she had been in life weighing heavily on him.

"Dr. Kovac?" It was Haleh's hand on his arm that brought him back to where he was and he swallowed before turning to her. "We can take care of her." The look on her face spoke of understanding, as if she somehow knew that even in those few hours how much the elderly woman had affected him.

"Thanks, Haleh." He voiced the gratitude quietly, hoping she understood the deeper significance of the word before he forced himself to leave. He had two patients still waiting on him, and while he knew his shift was over, had been over for some time, he knew too that he needed the transition time before he even attempted to drive home.

"Dr. Kovac, the chart." He stopped at the door and turned back as Haleh spoke then approached him. "You forgot to sign for time of death."

"Oh, right." He found himself looking over to Matilda again before scrawling his name and handing the chart back. "There you go."

The next hour passed with his mind clouded by thoughts that he couldn't quite escape, and more then once he found himself having to ask someone to repeat themselves. He might have been existing in a half world, hearing conversations as if they were muffled, seeming almost an observer to his own actions, he needed to get away, the pull to escape growing stronger.

By the time he stepped into the apartment the fugue had worsened. Two days she had lain injured on the floor of her apartment, two days and not one person had missed her, not one person had cared enough to check on her. Would that be his fate if he continued at the rate he was going? He shrugged his coat off and dumped it and his scarf unceremoniously on the couch before walking to the refrigerator and pulling a beer out. As he tossed the cap in the sink he caught sight of the flashing of the light on the answering machine and after a long pull on the beer he moved over to it.

As he hit play an unfamiliar voice broke the silence of the room. "Luka, you don't know me, my name's Becca, my friend Melissa gave me your number, she said you liked to have a good time. Look, I'm not doing anything tonight, I thought you might be open for some company. My number is 555-2463, call me, it's supposed to be cold tonight, maybe we can find something to do to keep each other warm."

The boldness of the woman and her call shocked him, her implications clear even through the machine. Was this what he had fallen to? He downed the remainder of the beer in one drink only to pull a second from the refrigerator as he played the message a second time.

"Maybe we can find something to do to keep each other warm..." The phrase echoed in his thoughts even as he reached for the phone, knowing that anything was better then being alone with his thoughts.

100moods/Thankful

ER/Luka Kovac 094. Thankful
Title: The Gift
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Thankful
Word Count: 1962
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: Possible tissue alert, spoilers to "Hindsight" within.
Summary: Sometimes unexpected things make us the most thankful.

Christmas...he dreaded it more then any other time of the year, maybe more so this year than all the others. Luka had found himself counting off the hours all month. He'd gotten through the weeks leading up to the holiday by pulling all of the extra shifts he could, and that had partially worked. He had managed to avoid the holiday party, through creative shift swapping and thus avoided a repeat of the previous year, but that had only been a temporary fix.

Christmas Eve Day...he'd had to force himself out from under the covers, the prospect of facing another day of the sad holiday decorations at the hospital almost more then he could handle. He'd dreamt of Danijela and the children again...dreamt of the years of sledding with first Jasna, then Marko. Even now that image brought a sad smile to his face, the boy so small, had nestled safely in his father's lap, too young to realize what it all meant. But that was before...that was when the holidays brought joy instead of sadness.

6am...the start of his shift...the start of what he knew would be too long of a day. He deposited his peacoat in his locker before exchanging it for the labcoat and tried not to notice the Christmas cards taped to the various lockers. Well wishes from family and friends...well wishes that he had once known but no more. Not totally true of course..he had heard from his father...Tata...the call had come too early, the older man once more having forgotten the time differences. Even though he knew his son would not be coming home he had tried to get him to change his mind, tempting him with reminders of home, and in the end accepting his failure. He missed his father..his Tata...but he couldn't face going back..not now, not when the memories of what had been lost were so close to the surface.

At the Nurse's Station he reached for the first chart he saw...it didn't matter what it was, he only knew he had to keep busy...had to keep his thoughts on anything but what he could never have again. The hours seemed to last forever...and with each passing one came more reminders of the day...Santa hats...Christmas carols, holiday cookies, couldn't anyone see they all made things worse?

Early afternoon...his shift too close to ending...he couldn't go home..not yet...not to face the night alone with the memories. "Dr. Kovac..." He heard his name as he was completing a chart and glanced up to find Jerry holding his hand over the phone. "It's Dr. Lewis, she wants to know if you could cover her shift...says she slipped on the ice and can't come in."

"Yeah..sure..." He reached for another chart without asking for more details, relieved that at least for a few more hours he could escape the memories.

6pm...the parties are starting...families are making their way around the city, and things begin to pick up. Last minute shoppers...traffic accidents...drunks...slip and falls...he'd take them all if it meant he could avoid facing the emptiness that was his life. The patients begin to run together but he won't let what happened to Rick happen to them. Rick..yet another holiday reminder he wished he could forget. Almost in tandem came thoughts of Erin...and he found himself wondering how she was...wondering if she had forgiven him.

10pm...no sign of things slowing...a relief in it's own twisted way...he should feel sorry for them...sorry that they were here instead of being at home with their families and friends. Should feel sorry, but he didn't...couldn't, because for the moments they were here he was freed from reliving his past.

"Luka..." He felt his stomach lurch as Kerry called his name and he stopped in midstride and turned to face her.

"I'm kind of busy here, Kerry." He hoped that would be enough to stop her but somehow he knew it wasn't.

"What are you still doing here? I thought your shift ended at 6."

"It did...but Susan called in, I said I would take hers...it's okay."

"It's not okay...you've pulled doubles three days this week already..I told you to cut back." The redhead's face took on a hardness he had grown used to seeing.

"She slipped on some ice...and it's not like I have to be anywhere...if I get tired I'll find a room and get some sleep." He knew that was a lie as soon as he said it...he wouldn't sleep here..couldn't sleep here, not and risk the dreams he knew would come.

"Aren't you supposed to be back on at 6? That'll be 36 hours, Luka...find someone else to take it."

"Kerry...it's Christmas...there isn't anyone else...I don't have any plans...I can cover it." He hoped his words convinced her...hoped she couldn't hear the desperation in his voice. He needed to be here...needed to be anywhere but home alone.

Kerry lifted her eyes to his, and for a moment he felt as if she could somehow see inside of him. Lifting his hand he wiped it down his mouth, swallowing the fear that she would somehow discover the truth he was trying to hide. "All right...but this is the last shift you pick up extra this week. You look like hell, finish the patients you're working on and find somewhere to sleep for at least an hour...do I make myself clear?"

"Kerry..." He started to protest then at the glare she tossed his way let the rest of the argument go.

"I said...do I make myself clear?" Her voice took on an icier tone.

"Yes," Luka exhaled audibly...agreeing to the one thing he knew he didn't want to do. As the woman walked away he reached for another chart and flipping it open he began to skim the notes.

1am...he'd managed to avoid sleep after all...a four-car pileup had seen to that...one death, the rest minor injuries, but enough to delay the sleep he dreaded giving in to. He slid the last of the charts in the rack and wearily wiped his hand over his face...he needed coffee. He needed sleep...the thought triggered a yawn and he covered his mouth with his hand before anyone could notice. He had to stay busy...had to not think about how things had been. Without even being aware of it he leaned on the counter before settling his chin in his palm, meaning to study the board, only to have it blur as he tried to read it. He was losing the fight...he straightened and shook his head.

"The board's pretty clear...why don't you go get some sleep?" He turned to Haleh as she spoke.

"I'm good..." He wondered if his words sounded as hollow to her as they did to his ears.

"You're not good...you're practically asleep on your feet." Haleh's mouth curved up in a smile. "I'll call Weaver if you don't."

"You wouldn't?" He watched the woman's face for the signs that might prove she was lying.

"Try me." He look hardened on him before she spoke again. "Sutures or the Lounge..your choice."

Luka found himself looking around as if there would miraculously be someone there to bail him out. When it became obvious there wouldn't be an escape he returned his eyes to her. "Sutures..." It was safer...he knew that...too many people used the Lounge..too many people who might overhear if the memories became too real.

"If we get a trauma we can't handle I'll wake you...now go." He was sure the woman would have pushed him down the hall to the room if he didn't go of his own accord, and so he had, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. The room was quiet...and as he entered to reached around to switch the light off. Why couldn't they just let him work...a few more days and it would be over for another year. He released a breath and made his way to the bed that was farthest from the door. As he took a seat he felt the fatigue settle in and in his mind he marveled at how quickly it seemed to happen. He could simply sit here...could, but wouldn't...he found himself stretching out on the bed before he even realized he had done it. The sleep was coming...he was past stopping it now, and despite what he knew the act would bring he allowed his eyes to close...

"Tata...I want to put the star on the tree..." He moaned softly as the dream came, the small girl's voice so clear in his thoughts that he could almost believe she was there. They hadn't been rich...but somehow Danijela had found a way to buy both the fish they had had for dinner and the turkey she would make for Christmas Day. Their tree was so small...but to Jasna it couldn't have been more beautiful and the few presents that lay wrapped under it had held her transfixed for hours on end as she imagined what each might hold. Marko was too young to understand it all but he had giggled as only a small baby can, fascinated by the single strand of blinking lights and enduring his sister's attempts to tie bows around his hands and feet. He saw them all readying for Midnight Mass...remembered the chill in the air as they walked to the Chapel. He could hear the mass...and just for a moment he could feel his daughter as she nestled against him, her attention captivated by the service. That final memory was enough to wake him and without touching his face he knew his cheeks would be wet with shed tears.

Pushing himself up, Luka wiped the wetness from his face then glanced at his watch...5am, Christmas Day. How was he supposed to make it through if he couldn't work? There was no way he could tell Kerry why he needed to do this...no way he could make her understand the importance of it. Turning, he let his legs dangle over the side on the bed....there had to be something he could say to make her understand without saying too much.

"Dr. Kovac?" He heard the gentle rap on the door a moment before the door opened and Haleh pushed it open. "Sorry to wake you, there's a GSW coming in."

"It's all right...I was already awake..." He was off the bed even as he spoke, relieved that at least for now the past would retreat. It wouldn't last, he knew that just as he knew that he would dread the day the memories stopped coming. They had been his life, and with the pain of remembering came the joy of reliving what had been the happiest days of his life. Maybe that was the reason they kept coming...not to bring him the sadness of their loss, but to remind him of all he'd had...and maybe one day might have again. Maybe that was the gift they continued to give after all these years, the gift he had never noticed until today. It was that thought that remained as he followed Haleh from the room, and for the first time in far too many years he felt the dread recede, replaced by a warmth he had never thought he would feel again.

100moods/Anger

ER/Luka Kovac 003. Angry
Title: The Weight of One Child
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Angry
Word Count: 660
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: spoilers to "May Day" within.
Summary: Luka tries to deal with his anger over the senseless death of a newborn.

Not until the train doors had closed and the car had left the platform did I even realize that it had come and gone. The fog that had held me prisoner since the fetal tones had grown silent was still strong even here away from the hospital. I am trained to help people, to save their lives, I could have saved his if not for his mother, if not for the fear of losing my license. I can feel the weakness in my legs beginning, the rolling of my stomach as I fight the urge to throw-up and I force myself to sit and drop my head into my hands.

How could she just let him die? How could she lie there and listen to his heartbeat grow slower and slower and not let me save him? What kind of monster carries a child for nine months inside of her, feels it growing, feels it moving only to have it come to term so she can let it die?

I think of how it was with Danijela, first with Jasna, then later with Marko, how from the moment she learned she was with child she seemed to glow. I remember nights when I would lay with my head on her stomach and listen to the sound of our babies as they moved inside her, feel them as they turned this way and that. I remember how anxious they seemed to come out and become part of our lives and how much we worried on those days when they were quiet. I remember how excited we were as her due dates grew closer and closer and how we planned for each babies arrival.

God, I wanted to scream at this baby's mother, I wanted to first shake her then hit her, find a way to make her realize what a mistake she was making. Even now I still feel the anger I felt at her, the disgust, and I know it is driven by my own feelings of loss. Even after so many years I can summon those emotions with barely a second thought, she may not understand the loss of her son, but I do, all too well.

I hope she remembers what it was like to deliver her son, the pain that accompanied his birth, the silence instead of the cry that should have announced his arrival. I want her to remember that he was perfect, that he had all ten fingers and all ten toes, that he would have been healthy if not for her selfishness. I hope she remembers how beautiful he was, and that she sees his face in her dreams the way I still see my children in mine.

As I sit here now on the platform and wait for the next train I know images of him will linger with me for days if not weeks. I know too that those thoughts will bring ones of my own children, dreams of them as babies, of times with Danijela, and unavoidably the moments of their deaths. I know I shouldn't let my thoughts travel this path, it's one I've been down too often it seems since I've been spending time with Carol and her daughters. Or had been I should say, with her gone. I can't even go to her to talk about what happened and so I'll keep my silence, my memories and my thoughts to myself as I've done for far too many years.

Increased activity on the platform stirs me into rising and I move back towards the track to wait. Saved by the train, or at least I've been given a reprieve, I know the thoughts will be back, they'll last a few days, maybe a week only to go back into hiding until the next time. If only I could remember, from one time to the next, the power behind the weight of one child.

100moods/Confused

ER/Luka Kovac 017. Confused
Title: Alex
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Confused
Word Count: 554
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: spoilers to "Back in the World" within.
Summary: Luka finds himself at a loss for words when it comes to how to talk to Alex about his father.


How can I explain why I did what I did? I see the pain on your face, the hurt and anger in your eyes and I know you think I'm to blame for causing it. What if I had gotten home just five minutes later? Why is it so hard for me to tell you how afraid I was that we could have lost you? Why is it so hard for me to tell you what I'm feeling? I watch you walk away without a word, and I want to throw open my door and run after you. I want to wrap my arms around you and promise to keep you safe, but I can't, not yet.

I have the day to myself and as I wander the empty apartment I can't help but see the reminders of the day before, the missing television and stereo, the other things that mattered more to him then you. I pray you will never know that of course. Even though you heard the words I hope you never understand the meanings behind them. They are only things to us, and I would have given him more had he asked to keep him from taking you from us.

I wish I could explain what the loss of you would have meant to your mother, what it would have meant to me. What the loss of a child means to any parent. Someday I will share with you what it meant to me when I suffered that loss so many years ago. How the loss of my own children left me little more then a hollow shell for far too many of those years. Someday I will explain how I would have given everything to spare your mother knowing those feelings as I did. Someday I will tell you how you and your mother have begun to fill that emptiness with something I thought never to feel again.

It's too soon for you to hear any of this now, to understand any of this, all you have room for is the anger at me for sending your father away and the pain at knowing he left without you. I stand in your room and I wonder how far I would have gone to stop him had he not gone willingly. Then, in that same thought, I know I would have gone as far as necessary because nothing would have allowed me to let him take you from us as long as I drew breath. I hope it will never come to that, but the possibility is there, hiding in the darkness just out of sight.

I know you are too young to understand any of this now, and nothing I can say will undo what you saw. I only wish I could explain how much it hurts to see the anger you feel towards me etched on your face. An anger directed at me when I know I was acting only to protect you. I wish I could explain what it feels like to endure the silence as your feelings simmer inside of you. I can only hope that you will allow your mother to give you the comfort you need, that you will tell her what you can't, or won't tell me. More importantly I hope that in time you will forgive me for doing what I had to do to keep you safe.

100moods/Sympathetic

ER/Luka Kovac 093 Sympathetic
Title: The Journey
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Sympathetic
Word Count: 1016
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: none to speak of
Summary: Luka wonders how best to help Carter deal with the death of his son while finding too many similarities in how he faced his own losses.

It had been a long day. As he unlocked the door of his apartment Luka felt the urge to do nothing more then head to his bed and lose himself to sleep, if only it was that easy. So much was happening, some good, some not, some to him and some to others. How long had it been since he'd worried about what was happening to others in more then a cursory way?

He loosened his tie and went to the refrigerator for a beer, then took a long swallow before going any further. He was worried about Carter. He, better then most knew what thoughts were going through the man's head, the sense of loss, the guilt, the despair. He'd shared 5 years with Jasna, 18 months with Marko, he had smiles to remember, first steps, the sound of their laughter, and yes, even their tears. He knew the smells that would always stir memories, and he had images of them that would forever remain in his heart and mind. Carter had none of that, all he had was the sense of loss and the images of the son that would never see all the world had to offer. What could he say to him that might make his journey easier then his own had been? 217

The question lingered as he walked into the livingroom and sank down into the couch. He had made it known that he would be there for him, but would John accept his offer? When he had been in the dark place that Carter now lived he had refused the comfort that those around him had tried to offer. He had wrapped himself in his grief and misery and he had used it as a means of punishing himself for the very thing that had been beyond his control. He hadn't wanted to hear their expressions of sympathy and so he had withdrawn, using work as his escape until it was all he had left. He took another pull on the bottle before lowering it.

The behaviors he had thought would take the pain away were the same ones he saw in John now, and all too well he knew they would change nothing. How many days had he gone without sleep so that he wouldn't have to dream? When that time finally came, when his body was too exhausted for him to pretend not to need sleep, he too had used alcohol in hopes that the dreams could be kept at bay. It had failed for him, and it would fail for Carter, try as they might the memories would still come. He had hated those nightmares, the cries for him to come to their rescue that he knew would go unanswered. John's nightmares would be different, but they would still come and they would haunt him until he found a way to make peace with himself.

Drawing his lower lip between his teeth Luka stared at the phone on the table beside him, he should call him, offer him the company he most likely would refuse. The grief was like a poison, untreated it would eat you alive, leaving behind a shell that did little more then exist. He had worn that shell for so many years that he'd all but forgotten the man he had once been. When had it begun to crack? When had he finally realized that he had once more begun to welcome the new day?

It had come slowly, he knew that, and it had come again in the guise of what he knew was his weakness. Carol's twins, Kate and Tess, they had been the ones who had found a way into the shell he'd hidden behind, and with them had been Carol. It had been hard at first, everything they did seemed to stir long dormant memories. Where before he had dreaded them, the more he was with the girls the more he welcomed them. He had tried not to see the similarities at first, wanted to believe that what he'd shared with Danijela would never be possible again, but he was wrong. If only he knew how to make John see that too.

He could only imagine what Kem was going through, the guilt she was carrying, but how could he convince John that it wasn't a time for them to be apart? Their strength was in each other, something he'd never had. It wasn't hard to imagine what they were going through, yes, they blamed themselves, but, they likely blamed each other as well. How could he make them understand that within them they held the one thing that would sustain them through the ordeal that was now their life? What he wouldn't have given to be able to say that. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a long, slow swallow. How different would things have been if Danijela had survived? If he had been able to share his grief with her instead of going through it alone...he could only imagine how different things would have been.

He would have to warn Carter that there was the risk of the grief returning, that he might think he was past it only to find it lurking in the shadows ready to pounce when he least expected it. That too had been one of the lessons he had learned, one of those he knew he could share. There would come a time though when he would realize that he'd gone without thinking of his loss, it might be only minutes at first, then gradually he might go an hour. He'd never believed he would go days without thinking about his family, but in time he had, and where once he had felt guilt at that, he now knew it was simply part of the healing. Danijela, Jasna, and Marko would always be part of him, just as John and Kem's son would be part of them, but he didn't have to be someone they remembered with sadness. It had taken so many years for him to reach that realization, but he had, and once that had happened he knew he was ready to move on.

Maybe that was what made things with Sam feel so different then it had with any of the others. Until her he had always felt that he was somehow betraying Danijela by being with another woman, but he knew now that he'd been wrong. Danijela would always hold a place in his heart, as would Jasna and Marko, and no one would ever replace them. Sam and Alex had stirred in him something he had thought he'd never experience again and he knew now that he was ready to welcome it instead of running from it as he might have only months before. His life had not ended with the death's of his wife and children despite the years he had told himself it had. Kem and John would discover the same in time. He could only hope that they would draw on each other's strengths as they struggled through the dark times ahead of them. He had made the journey alone because he'd had no choice, such was not the case for them, their love was their light, and together they would find their way through the pain and to the happiness that lay on the other side.

100moods/Hopeful

ER/Luka Kovac 050. Hopeful
Title: We Never Talk
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Hopeful
Word Count: 861
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: none to speak of
Summary: Luka tries to come to terms with the weaknesses in the relationship he has with Sam and finds himself hopeful.


We never talk...that's what you said to the shrink, maybe it's true, maybe it's not. I do think you were right when you said we can talk about other people easier then we can talk about ourselves. Lying here, watching you sleep, I find myself thinking about what I should say, but what I can't. I think about the times when I've almost started to say something about my past only to stop myself before I could begin. I think of how much we pretend that things are normal between us, for Alex, for others and how much we wish it were true when we know it's not. It's easy to accept our failures in the dark.

Only yesterday I caught myself in a moment of weakness and almost gave in to it. You were sorting through some baby pictures of Alex and I found myself wishing I had just one of Marko to share with you. I wanted to show you my one of Jasna, her picture is one she shares with Danijela, a black and white that's creased and worn from so many years of handling, and I knew that would only upset you so I didn't. For Marko I could not even do that and instead I said nothing. There was a time when I had begun to open up about my past, with Carol, I'd shared small stories of my childhood, of times on my grandparent's farm, of the day when everything was changed forever. I tried again with the Bishop when he heard my confession, but it grew too hard and so I stopped, making him the last to know the full story.

I think I don't talk about my past because so much has happened that I don't want to relive. I can't tell you how badly I want to be a father again, to know that joy of holding something that is a part of you and the woman you love in your arms. Something...I know they aren't things, they're miracles, gifts from God, I believe that now more then I ever did before, I don't know, maybe because I lost mine and you still have yours with you. I want to tell you about my babies, about Jasna, her birth, what she loved, what she hated. With Marko it's different, I told Carol once I could raise an image of him, his hands and face covered in chocolate ice cream, simply by closing my eyes but not anymore. Now, more often then not what I see is his small hand reaching for help from under the debris that stole his life. I see what he looked like once I had lifted the sides of the crib and cleared all of the plaster away, how he looked as I held him in my arms and my tears left tracks in the dirt that coated his face. It's harder for me to draw memories of his life and far too easy to call forth those of his death. It's worse to know that had they survived Jasna would now be the age her mother was when she gave birth and Marko would be nearly a man himself and that neither were given the chance to live those lives. There won't be any more sleep for me tonight and rather then risk waking you I'd better get up, if only I could put it all aside as easy as you seem to do.

Walking the darkened apartment I find my thoughts scattered, I should have expected this, but how could I have known we would have to revisit my past? Why should those losses affect where we are now? I want to believe I'm happy. I try to give you all you want, all you and Alex need, is there something I'm missing? I enjoy being with you, with Alex, I thought it was the same for both of you, where did we go wrong? There are so many questions now that we never thought to ask? I don't know, maybe they were there all along and we just didn't want, or maybe we were just too afraid to ask them.

I'm back where I started and I find myself standing in the open doorway watching you sleep wondering if you want us to stay together. A part of me will always love Danijela and my children, I'll always mourn their loss, that will never change no matter how much time passes. I can tell you that I can love you despite that, I can love Alex and we can be a family and you have to believe that if we're going to succeed. In time I hope I'll be able to share that part of my life with you, you'll have to be patient, but,as long as you're willing to work at this so am I...

"Luka? You coming back to bed?" Sam's soft voice broke the silence of the darkened room.

"Yeah."

And I know I am though it's still it's still true, we never talk...

100moods/Depressed

ER/Luka Kovac 025. Depressed
Title: Too Much
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Depressed
Word Count: 1016
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Contains spoilers to "A Little Help from my Friends"
Summary: Sometimes life just seems to be more then you can handle alone.

Why did he have to send him home? Why couldn't Romano at least have allowed him to lose himself in his work, to lose himself in the one thing that was keeping him from losing himself completely? As he walked slowly to his car he couldn't free himself of the questions. Didn't he realize how dangerous it was for him to be alone with the thoughts that were only quieted with work? No...how could he know, how could any of them know just how close to the edge he really was?

As he climbed into the car and brought the engine to life he could feel the thoughts surge with the power of it. He was the one responsible for almost killing Erin. He was to blame for the father and son who had almost been killed because of his recklessness. Why was he always the one to walk away unscathed? Danijela...the children...Rick... Erin, all of them dead, or dying, or worse, while he remained untouched.

Where was he going? What did it matter? Did anyone care? If he were to leave and never come back...if he were to drive off a bridge and sink to the bottom of the Lake, would anyone notice he was gone? No...not like this...his mind screamed for the thoughts to leave him...why couldn't he get them to stop?

His route had somehow brought him to the Bishop's Church, and even as he saw it he knew he wouldn't stop, knew he couldn't enter. How could he admit that he had thrown away the trust the Bishop had placed in him? How could he admit that he had allowed the man to die thinking that in his last moments he had released him from the burdens he had carried for so many years, when in truth they had remained and if anything only grown stronger?

What did he have now? Was there anyone in his life who would care if he was gone? He forced the thoughts to retreat to a dark corner of his mind, but even then he could feel them taunting him. He had to get the car home before someone else was hurt, or killed by his hand. Home, what a laugh. He'd thought he could have that again, he had found the apartment, filled it with all the things he had thought would make it one, all the while knowing that the most important thing it needed he would never likely have again.

Pulling the car into his parking space he shut the engine off and climbed out before moving to the safety of the building. Safety...was he safe anywhere? He could feel it all coming again...the fear...the panic...he needed to be working. Why couldn't anyone see that? He wasn't safe here...he wasn't safe when he was alone.

As he turned the key in the lock and forced the door open he could feel it building, rising up inside him so tightly he was sure it would strangle him. He made his way to the cabinet and pulled the bottle of vodka out, seeking to numb it the only way he knew how. Without even taking time to pour it into a glass he brought it to his lips...needing the burn as it slid down his throat to distract him.

He had to escape...had to find a way to get away from the endless reminders of the failure he had become. As he took another swallow his eyes settled on the small prescription bottle on the shelf. Was this the way? In the next moment he had it in his hand...was this his means of escape?

Who would care? He ran his fingers over the bottle before carrying it to the table, then took a long swallow of the vodka before setting both down on it's surface. How long would it be before anyone noticed? He uncapped the pills and dumped the contents on the table, arranging them into rows as he contemplated them. How many to numb? How many to forget? How many to stop the thoughts? How many to put an end to it all? Maybe this was the solution he had been looking for. He reached for the vodka and took another long drink. He could escape it all, but for one thing...in that escape he would forever lose the chance to be reunited with Danijela. In that escape he would forever lose the chance to hold Jasna and Marko in his arms again.

He could almost pretend the anguished groan came from someone else as it broke at the thoughts. Why couldn't he escape this hell even with death? His hell...his punishment for living...no, not living, he hadn't lived since that day in Vukovar when he had lost them all. Surviving, that was all he had done since that day, and even now that was threatened.

He couldn't do this alone..not today...not anymore. But who could he turn to that would understand? Who could he turn to that would accept him with all he had become? Who would overlook the faults, the failures, the grief? Who would be there to offer him the hold that could keep him from taking that final step?

In that instant he knew and as he rose and reached for the phone the tears from the realization had already begun to fall. He dialed the number from memory, his hand shaking so badly he was sure he would drop the phone. The ache in his chest threatened to rip him apart and as the voice broke into his thoughts as it was answered. The grief slamming into him with enough force that he sank to the floor. It was all he could do to keep the receiver to his ear as the sobs tore into him and the voice on the other end responded as he had known it would, offering the comfort even before he found the words to ask for it or explain. When he finally found his own voice his words were heavy with the pain he was powerless to hide. "Tata..." He slid into his native tongue without thought, responding on the deepest levels to the reassurances that filled his ear. "Tata...I need you."

100moods/Sinful

ER/Luka Kovac 086. Sinful
Title: What Right?
Fandom: ER
Characters: Luka Kovac
Prompt: Sinful
Word Count: 554
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers:none to speak of
Summary: Luka's wicked ways begin to catch up with him.

The scent of her perfume lingered and with it Luka felt the bile rise...what had he done, worse yet, what was he becoming? As he leaned against the door it dawned on him...he hadn't even asked her name. Clamping a hand over his mouth he hurried to the bathroom, then dropped to his knees just in time to grab the sides of the bowl. If only he could rid himself of the guilt as easily as he emptied his stomach of everything else.

It was all falling apart, but maybe that was the point. What right did he have to be happy? What right did he have to be safe and secure? As his stomach voided of what little it had held the dry heaves began and he found himself almost laying over the bowl as they threatened to tear his insides apart.

Ten years had passed since his world had shattered the first time...ten years since everything that had meant anything to him had been ripped away. What right did he have to happiness? What right did he have to think he deserved to have anyone in his life that cared about him? Maybe tonight was his reality...maybe all he deserved was someone who would pretend to care for him if he paid her enough money. He tightened his hold on the bowl so that his knuckles whitened as he held on to it.

After several more minutes he forced himself to his feet, then flushed away the evidence of his failure. All those years he'd pretended he was moving on...pretended he had overcome the loss of Danijela and the children. All the years he had thought that distancing himself from the daily realities of his past would make him forget. All of it was a lie. He turned on the faucet only to lean over the sink as it filled.

What right did he had to think he deserved a life when they were denied theirs? If only he wasn't such a coward. If only he had the strength to end his life the way theirs had been ended. If only he had the courage to put the misery that had become his life to rest forever. No! He had to remind himself that suicide wasn't even an escape he was allowed. If he was to ever hope to rejoin Danijela and the children his death could not come by his own hand. He splashed water on his face in an attempt to quell the rising queasiness.

Maybe this was his punishment. Ten years he had worked to rebuild a life, to recreate himself and make him other then husband to Danijela and father to Jasna and Marko. Ten years he had worked to find a way to share their memories with thoughts of a future without them in it, only to come to the realization that he didn't deserve one that involved any form of happiness. Carol...Abby...his position...he didn't deserve any of it.

He stood up and looked at the stranger in the mirror with the realization, when the words came they came with the quiet tone of acceptance. "How much more do I have to give up before you are satisfied?"