Author/pseudonym: Cathy Roberts
Email address: huntersglenn@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
Status: Completed
Pairing: John Carter/Luka Kovac
Date: March 6, 2003
Archive: Please ask first
Series: 4/7
Category: "E.R."
Disclaimer: "ER" and all its characters belong to Warner Bros. No infringement of their copyright is intended. This story was written for the enjoyment of "ER" fans everywhere, and may be downloaded for your own pleasure. I owe a special thanks to Melissa for planting the story idea in my head and being there to look over each bit as it was written.
Summary: The slashy adventures of John Carter and Luka Kovac in the Congo. The song "Grace Is Gone" is by Dave Matthews.
Dr. Kovac, I Presume, Part 4
By Cathy Roberts
The next morning was as busy as the one before had been, Luka noticed, and Gillian's attitude seemed to be even more irritating now that she seemed to be patting herself on the back for 'getting them together' as she put it in an aside while they were getting coffee. Luka wished that her words were true, that he and John were really a couple, but he had awoken with no further confirmation on that happening than he had when he had fallen asleep. He would have to be patient, and do all he could to convince Carter that they as a couple was something worth considering.
He found himself smiling over breakfast as he remembered how adamant Carter had been about trying things again that morning. Even though he admitted to being sore, Carter had been enthusiastic about their lovemaking, and had reached completion that time with a bit of help from Luka's hand. They had come at the same time, their cries of pleasure over that fact lost in the kiss they were sharing at that time. And Luka couldn't keep himself from looking down the table at Carter, hoping that the smile on his face was because of the same memories.
Luka's smile faltered though, when he saw Charles rushing up to Carter's side. He whispered something to him and then Carter was looking directly at Luka, his eyes looking surprised and worried. And then he was gone from the dining room, leaving behind his coffee. John Carter never abandoned coffee, and that seemed to be a bad sign to Luka.
Charles then came to sit beside Luka, a cup of coffee in his hand. "Are you about ready?" he asked.
"Ready for what?" Luka asked, his mind still wondering what Charles had said to Carter to make him rush out that way.
"I'm driving you back to the clinic today, remember?" Charles leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "We've got the truck loaded with supplies now. It's not much, but more than what the clinic had before."
Shit. Luka had forgotten about the clinic. He didn't have a choice but to go back there since there were patients there and only two nurses to watch over them until he returned. He nodded, wondering if he'd get the chance to tell Carter where'd he gone. "I've got to get my things from my room and then we can go. So, what did you tell Carter that made him hurry out?" Even as he asked, he could feel Gillian's eyes boring into him, her curiosity just as aroused.
"Angeligue sent me down to get him because he had a telephone call from the United States."
"His family? I hope nothing's wrong," Luka replied, hoping he was masking his fear that the caller was Abby, begging Carter to give her another chance. "His grandmother is elderly and has been having medical problems."
Charles looked at him intently, and then nodded. "That's right, you two do work in the same hospital, don't you? No, Angelique didn't say it was his family. Some woman named Abby. Is that his mother, do you know?"
Luka's stomach was dropping but he managed to shake his head. "No, it's not his mother." He looked up and saw Gillian looking at him, pity and concern in her eyes. Dammitt, he didn't want her pity! He got to his feet. "Let me get my things and we can go." And if his trip to his room took him by Angelique's office, well, then that couldn't be helped, could it?
Luka hurried away from the dining room, not wanting Gillian to catch up to him, to ask him how he was. He didn't want to talk to anyone, except for perhaps Abby, and that would be to brag to her that he had been making love with Carter and she should just slink off to the corner and leave his man alone.
His man. God, when had Carter become his? Carter loved Abby, not him. Right? No. Luka didn't even have to ask that. He knew that Carter and Abby were in love, had seen it in their eyes. It had haunted him for months, their feelings for one another, the happiness they seemed to have found. And Abby had thrown it all away. Was there something within her that refused to let her be happy? That refused to allow her to let others be happy? Look at what her actions had done to Carter, and now with this call, at what her actions would do to him and Carter.
By the time Luka reached Angelique's office, his bag in hand, he had convinced himself that Carter had taken Abby back. He loved the woman. Luka had even heard that Carter had proposed to her, more than once, even. You didn't walk away from that kind of love, even if the object of your love cheated and threw it in your face. Oh, Luka could gladly kill her for hurting Carter that way, but as long as Carter forgave her, what right did he have to say anything?
The door was shut and Luka didn't want to see if it was also locked. His hand was on the doorknob several times, but he never turned it, never tried to see if he could slip inside and hear what Carter was saying to Abby. It would hurt too much to hear him consoling her. And so, he stood there, his palm pressed up against the wooden door, fighting the urge to press his ear against the wood to see if he could overhear anything. And then he heard Gillian calling his name, and he stepped back from the door, turning to watch her walk toward him.
"Gillian," his greeting was, he hoped, polite.
"Charles is outside with the truck, so if you're ready?" She said, her eyes on his bag.
"I'm ready. I was hoping I'd have a chance to tell Carter where I was going, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen. Would you mind telling him for me? I hope to be back here before I head home, so I should see him then."
Gillian nodded. "I'll tell him. I don't suppose you know what's going on in there?" She inclined her head toward the door.
"He's having a phone conversation with the woman he loves," Luka coldly replied as he started to walk past her.
"Luka..."
He stopped, but didn't turn to look at her. He didn't dare let her see the emotions that his eyes had to be showing right then.
"I'm sorry," she softly said.
"So am I. Take care, Gillian. I'll see you in a few more days." Luka started to walk again, not stopping until he was outside. He took a deep breath, the humid morning air reminding him all too much of the steam-filled room from the night before. A memory. But it was all he had left of John Carter. And it would have to suffice.
"Let's go, Charles. There are patients waiting." Luka tossed his bag into the back of the truck, and then climbed up into the passenger side of the cab, letting Charles drive. The sooner he was away from the site of his latest heartache, the better, Luka thought. And yet he already found himself eager for when he'd make the return trip, so he could see Carter again before they returned to Chicago. Just to see him would be enough, or so Luka hoped.
John lost track of how long he sat there, simply staring at the phone. When he had been told that it was Abby on the phone, he hadn't hesitated to rush to Angelique's office to take the call, even though his mind had been in overdrive the entire time. Was she calling to tell him that Susan had lied, that Hank meant nothing to her? Was she calling to tell him that she was sorry and wanted his forgiveness? Was she calling to break up with him?
Strange how out of all of those possibilities, it was the breaking up one that was most in his mind as he stepped into Angelique's office and accepted the receiver from her, not trusting himself to talk until Angelique was out of the room with the door closed behind her.
They had talked about many things. About being afraid, about love, or lack thereof, about drinking, her drinking specifically. They had spoken about Hank from pedes and his phone calls to her apartment, with her admitting that she'd been present for some of them, but had let the machine pick up because she was too scared and ashamed to talk with him.
And, by the time the call ended, he and Abby had reached the conclusion that they simply didn't work as a couple. For her, there hadn't been enough of something, he wasn't sure if it was love or trust. Or perhaps confidence in herself. For him, he had realized that, while he loved her enough to propose, it wasn't enough to not want her to change. He couldn't handle the drinking, the emotional hiding. He had been honest with Abby about his feelings, laid them all out on the table for her, and she had continued to keep hers bottled up inside. And, as the call reached the end, he had told her about Luka. Oh, he didn't give her details, but he did tell her that he and Luka had grown closer since he was still there. Abby had seemed surprised by that news, but not exactly disappointed. John wondered how she would have reacted if he had told her that they had made love that morning, just hours before her phone call. Would she have been pleased he had found someone to take her place?
And had he? Had he reached out for Luka out of the need for comfort or were his budding feelings for the man genuine? He had been so sure of how he had felt about Abby, and those feelings had obviously not been true. But, then again, it had taken time for him to reach the realization that he did love her despite everything else. His observation about Luka didn't need a realization. Did that make those feelings more 'real'? Or were they nothing more than wishful thinking on his part?
Checking his watch, John saw that he'd been in Angelique's office for over thirty minutes, and there were patients who needed to be seen. He ran his hand over his eyes, hoping that the day would be better than the one before and the one before that and the one before that. He was tired of seeing patients that he couldn't truly help - not there anyway. Now, if they were at County, the story would be different. There'd be no children with polio, there would be antibiotics available and plenty of them, there'd be decent food. With a sigh and a small prayer to that God he wasn't always sure he believed in, John got to his feet and headed to the waiting area, his eyes already searching the sea of faces for Luka's, needing the reassurance his presence brought.
But there was no sign of Luka and it was too busy for John to stop to ask about him. It wasn't until he was able to take a short break for lunch that he was able to sit by Gillian and ask, for not only Luka, but Charles as well, since he hadn't seen him around, either.
"They left," Gillian replied between bites. "They had to get back to the clinic."
John slowly nodded, remembering only then that when Luka had shown up the other day, he had mentioned that there were patients at the clinic that couldn't be moved and he had come in for some supplies. He had also come in with injured rebel soldiers that he had found along the way, one of which had died while John could do nothing but ease his passing. That had sucked - watching Angelique and Luka save the others while his more critically injured patient died. Resources were stretched so thinly that only those who could successfully recover were operated on. Those who were iffy, like John's patient, were made as comfortable as possible without wasting even more resources on them.
"Luka waited to tell you, but they had to go. He said that he'll see you when he gets back," Gillian continued.
"Thanks. I had forgotten that he needed to get back there." John pushed the remains of his lunch away, his appetite suddenly gone.
"How did the telephone call go?" Gillian asked.
"It was all right," John dully replied. He got to his feet. "I'm getting back to work. Enjoy your lunch." Walking away, John didn't see the worried look that Gillian was giving his retreating form, her brow wrinkled in thought.
As he worked through the afternoon, John came to the conclusion that Luka returning to the clinic was for the best as it would give him time to think without Luka being there as a distraction. And there was a lot for him to think about, John knew that. He had to deal with his feelings for Abby as well as for whatever it was that was starting for Luka. Despite all the things that had happened in his life, it still managed to surprise John that his life had changed in the eight short days since he'd left Chicago. He supposed that it was a good thing that change could still surprise him when it came, although a part of him was beginning to think that change, especially where his life was concerned, was something that would always be waiting just around the corner.
The days passed, not slowly, nor quickly. John slept, had nightmares, awoke, fretted, missed Luka's arms and the sound of his breathing, then fell asleep again to wake up to work. Work varied only in whom he was seeing and not what he was seeing - the citizens of the ravaged country all turning into one blur for him. Except for the children. His 'little birds', the ones who held the hope for their country on their thin shoulders, providing he could do his best to keep them alive. Still, John did what he could, and there were many nights he was up late, flashlight in hand to illuminate the pages of a book that he would do his best to read - his French was horrible, but it seemed to amuse the children, and hearing them laugh was well worth the effort of mangling the language, he reasoned.
It was a bit of a surprise for him to get to breakfast one morning and have Angelique announcing that it was his last day at the hospital. The two weeks had gone by that quickly. And Luka had never returned before going home. That part saddened him, even though he had been too busy during the days to notice the man's absence. And that, too, saddened him. It appeared that despite Luka's words that night they made love, that they would see each other in Chicago and behave no differently than before. Luka had obviously decided that he wasn't worth it. Smart man. And John had no choice but to honor that decision, no matter how much it hurt.
Therefore, John was very surprised - yet again - the Congo kept doing that to him - when shortly after lunch he saw Luka in the waiting area. Like him, Luka was only supposed to have been there for two weeks, yet there he was, talking to a patient while a nurse made notes. Still there two weeks past the time he was supposed to return. Kerry would be furious, John knew that much. Perhaps Luka wasn't going back? Maybe he had decided to stay there and do what he could? John had to admit that similar thoughts had been going through his head the past few days, when he realized that there was really nothing for him in Chicago if he didn't even have Luka's friendship. Why not stay? He was slowly picking up French, and, with a bit of hard study and tutoring, John was sure he could soon be speaking it well enough. Leaving the Chicago would be hard, despite Gamma being dead, leaving the United States would be even harder, but it was something he was considering.
Before he saw Luka, that is. If Luka was staying, then John couldn't. He didn't want to make things difficult for the man. John knew he was staring at Luka, but it didn't really bother him until he saw Luka look in his direction, then past him and then back to his patient. John was nothing more than someone who blended into the crowd...and with that knowledge, he returned to work, his heart heavier than it had been since Luka left to return to the clinic.
Carter's face had haunted Luka's waking hours, had been prominent in his dreams. At least he wasn't having nightmares, he thought. But somehow the erotic dreams involving Carter seemed worse since Carter could never be his. In his dreams, though, he was 'John', and despite dreading nighttime because he knew he'd be sleeping alone and then dreaming about Carter, there was still a small part of Luka that looked forward to those dreams since they were the only time when they could be together.
He yearned to see Carter, to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him and love him. But Carter was once more beyond his reach. It was only right and logical that Carter would take Abby back. They loved each other. Luka had seen that with his own eyes, and he had spent his non-working hours lately convincing himself of that reality. They would marry and make beautiful babies, as they should be doing. What did John Carter need with a moody Croatian?
And if there had been a way to get to Kinasha and the airport without returning to the hospital, Luka would have taken it. But there wasn't, so he was stuck spending one last day there. And then he would have to get on a truck with Carter and drive to the nearest airport, then get in a small plane with Carter and fly to the capital. Thankfully, once at the international airport, he could get away from the man. They'd most certainly have different flights out, Luka thought. At least he hoped they did. But until then, he'd have to try his best to pretend that Carter meant nothing to him. Do nothing to distract Carter from Abby, no matter how much he wanted to distract Carter from everything.
So it was therefore difficult, but necessary, to look through Carter when he saw him in the waiting area. The man had looked good enough to eat, and all Luka could do was pretend he didn't exist. Returning to County General and going back to pretending was going to be Hell, and Luka didn't know how he was going to make it. It had nearly destroyed him when he had been blindly seeking fulfillment, his thoughts that Abby had been IT for him. Now that he knew the truth, that it had never been Abby, but always Carter, and Carter couldn't be his, what was he going to do? Self-destruct totally this time? Resign from County and go to another hospital? Doing that would take him away from Carter, and while he longed for that, it was also a prospect that Luka dreaded.
It took all of Luka's willpower to push thoughts of Carter from his mind, to keep from watching him while he worked. But, Luka managed to treat the patients, and he even managed to miss dinner, not wanting to risk having to talk to Carter. He was outside, enjoying a smoke when Gillian approached him, a stern look on her face as she leaned against the wall.
"Gillian," he nodded as he greeted her. "Care for a cigarette?"
"No, thank you," she replied, her voice tight with controlled emotion. Luka knew right then that he was in trouble with her over something, or someone.
"Suit yourself," he replied before taking a long drag on his cigarette.
"You're a real bastard, Luka, do you realize that?"
His eyebrows rose, but he nodded. "I think I've heard those words before. Why am I now a bastard? I thought you were past me screwing the Scottish nurse."
"I am. What I'm not past is you screwing John," she bitterly replied.
Luka turned his head to look directly at her. "I seem to recall you being the one who set all of that up, did you not?"
"I set it up so that the two of you could make love because I could see he had feelings for you and I thought you cared about him. I was obviously wrong about that. I don't think anyone missed the way you kept looking through him this afternoon. He's been moping around here ever since you left, and the first thing you did when you got back was ignore him. Sounds to me like you were just in it for the fucking, Luka."
Luka's temper flared. How dare she accuse him of that? Gillian, the woman who invited just about every man there into her bed at one time or another, accusing him of being interested in only fucking John Carter! He was about to tear into her full force, but held back. It wasn't Gillian's fault that his dreams had been smashed to bits. "I care very much for him and about him, Gillian. But he's with Abby again and I'm not going to do anything to ruin that."
"Is he?" Gillian asked, her eyes narrowing as she regarded him. "You haven't spoken one word to him since you arrived. How would you know anything about him?"
"I know him, Gillian. Abby called here, wanting him to take her back and he forgave her. It's not in him to turn her down."
Gillian shook her head. "You are such a fool, Luka Kovac. Such a fool. Go on and believe what you wish, but you're not the only person who missed dinner tonight, and you're not the only fool here, either." And with that, Gillian turned around and went back into the hospital, leaving Luka alone with the stars and his thoughts.
Maybe she was right. Not about him being a fool, but about him not giving Carter the chance to tell him that there couldn't be a 'them'. They would talk on the trip into Kinasha, Luka thought. Get things settled before they reached the international airport. He put out his cigarette and went back inside, going directly to his room so he could finish packing for the trip to a home that no longer held any appeal for him.
In his effort to avoid Luka at dinner, John had first considered just staying in his room. But he had eventually rejected that idea as being too childish. Instead he had opted for one last bit of reading to the children, and he was seated cross-legged on the concrete floor of the ward, eager faces surrounding him as he opened the book. The children laughed as he read the title, as they always did when he spoke too much French, and John laughed along with them, loving the musical lilt to the laughter of the children. It pained him to think that he'd never have children of his own, but he had given up hope of that ever happening. First it was because he had never found someone he loved enough to marry. Then, when he had found Abby, he had discovered she was too scared to have children, afraid that she'd pass on the gene that would make them bi-polar. And now, with Abby out of his life, John wasn't sure that he'd ever find someone else. So, no. No children for him. But that didn't mean he couldn't be a good 'uncle' to the ones he knew. He only wished he could do more for the children who were gathered around him right then, find ways to give them new limbs, or to feed them. He knew that once home he'd have the Carter Foundation do something, but he also knew that it wouldn't be enough. He could help some of them, but not all of them.
John was nearly done with the story when he noticed that he had an additional person listening - Gillian. And she didn't look happy at all. John did his best to ignore her as he finished the story, then carried each child to bed, tucking them in before their families came there to do the same thing, smiling their gratitude at him for the small bit of entertainment he had provided both them and the children. Once the last child was put to bed and the lights in the ward were turned down for the night, John walked over to Gillian.
"I wanted to read to them one last time," he explained as he put the book on a small table near the door, then gestured for her to precede him out of the ward. "It's hard to believe that I'm going home tomorrow."
"I know. I'll be leaving in another week myself. They grow on you, don't they?" she warmly asked.
John nodded. "They do. And not just the children." He looked up at the ceiling, squinting against the light bulb that hung there. "Strange to have had power this long. I remember us losing it when I first got here. Angeligue said then that the rebels cut the lines about once a week. I guess they missed them this week."
"One can hope," Gillian said. "We need to talk."
John stopped and looked at her questioningly. "About what?"
"Luka," she quickly replied.
"I don't see where there's anything to talk about, Gillian. I had thought...it doesn't matter what I had thought. He came back and doesn't want anything to do with me." He looked down at the floor, thinking it odd that he had ceased to notice the stains in the concrete. "I was thinking of coming back, permanently."
"Here?" Gillian sounded surprised.
John nodded. "It's a good place to be, Gillian. They need doctors here. They need someone like me. Even if I can't speak French all that well."
She snorted. "You mean even if you can't speak French. John, why would you want to do that? You have a good life in Chicago. You have Abby, and your friends and family..."
"I have nothing back there, Gillian," John replied, more than a hint of bitterness in his voice. "The only ones that were ever there all the time were my grandmother and cousin. And now that Gamma's gone, and Chase has his own life..." He shook his head. "My parents travel and are hardly ever there. I won't be missed by many people, trust me."
"Not even Abby?" Gillian gently asked.
He shook his head. "Especially not by Abby." Or by Luka, he mentally added, but he didn't want to tell her that. It was bad enough that he was indulging in this bout of self-pity in front of her. "I've been thinking about it all week, Gillian, and I think it's the best thing to do."
"I don't know about that. It's good to volunteer, but I'm not sure I'd want to live here year after year." She looked at him, and then slowly smiled. "So, not even Luka would be enough to keep you in Chicago?"
"Luka doesn't want me," John said, his voice once more bitter. "You saw how he was when he got here this afternoon. He's changed his mind about things, and that's fine. It's his choice. But I don't think I can handle being there in Chicago with him, Gillian."
Gillian started to say something in response to that, but then she closed her mouth, regarding him intently. "You know," she finally said. "I think that you and Luka need to talk. Tonight. Now."
"He doesn't want to talk to me, Gillian."
"John, he thinks that you're back together with Abby," she said.
"What?" John shook his head. "What gave him that idea? He left before Abby and I were done talking."
"I don't know why he thinks that, but he does. He keeps telling me about how well he 'knows' you, and he's convinced that you and Abby are back together as a result of that telephone call. That's why he was ignoring you earlier. It's just that he's a fool and too proud to tell you that his heart is broken because he thinks you don't care about him."
"Really?" John asked, his whole mood picking up. "That's...wonderful...I mean...it's not wonderful, but..."
Gillian laughed. "I know what you mean. Now go on and talk to him before he decides that he's not leaving."
"He's not leaving?" John asked, his good mood suddenly gone. "He has to go home...WE have to go home."
"Then go tell him so, John," Gillian urged, a huge smile on her face. It was amazing what a little embellishment of the truth could accomplish, she thought as she watched John rush off in the direction of the dorm wing of the hospital. Luka Kovac wouldn't know what hit him, but she was sure that come morning, he'd be very happy about it all.
To be continued