Medical Attention

Chapter eight. Healing.

Abby isn’t home when John tries to call her that night. Never mind. He’ll ask her out when he sees her on his morning shift. He’s not sure if she’ll go out with him again but there’s no harm in trying, right? She might accept his offer. She’s taken him back before. And as far as he knows, she’s not dating anyone. Maybe she’ll accept a date out of pure loneliness, if nothing else. John is aware that he’s only thinking about Abby because he’s on the rebound, not because he really loves her. She may not be the perfect woman, far from it, but hey, at least she’s just as messed up as him. They have a lot in common. They work in the same hospital. They’ve both battled addictions. And they’ve both dated Kovac. John finds that knowledge a little weird but also a little comforting. Abby knows what an ass Kovac can be. He broke it off with her, as she expected he would. She believes that Kovac can’t handle a strong woman like her. Truth is, Kovac couldn’t handle her unstable mental state. Not that he cited that as the reason he was dumping her. He gave some lame excuse about not having the time for a serious relationship, the “It’s not you, it’s me,” speech. Yes, Abby knows from prior experience that Kovac doesn’t hang around for long. She warned Carter about hooking up with the dude. Carter thinks that she can’t be all that bad if she tried to stop him from making the same mistake she made. Still, John inevitably made the same mistake. He should have listened to her. Because she tried to warn him, she must have been concerned about him, even though she just seemed furious and spiteful at the time. If she cares, even a little bit, then John has a chance of getting her back.

Needless to say, John mostly wants to date Abby to piss Kovac off.

It’s another frenzied day in the E.R. and John has to put his plans of a dinner invitation on hold until things quiet down. A busload of injured factory workers fills up the emergency room and surgery. There had been an explosion at a metal processing plant and there are various shrapnel wounds, burns and smoke inhalation cases to deal with, all at once. As they race back and forth between victims, treating the most serious cases first, Carter and Kovac cross paths, many times, and Carter finds himself snapping at Kovac, telling him to hurry up or get out of the way, demanding him to pass over a piece of equipment and giving harsh orders, generally being rude and impatient with the older doctor. Kovac soon loses his own patience and snaps back at Carter, swearing under his breath in Croatian. Most of the other doctors and nurses at County just think the two are short-fused due to the sudden influx of patients, which is not out of the ordinary – hell, they all get cranky when this happens, but one person senses that it’s more than that. That person is Abby. She notices a lot of tension between Kovac and Carter and it’s not work related. Trying to diffuse the situation, she helps them both out as much as she can and ignores their appalling moods, even when they take it out on her. Men are just bastards most of the time, in her opinion.

Later, much later, after all the critically injured have been stabilised and the not so critically injured have gone home, Dr John Carter sits in the lunchroom for a well-deserved break. He’s drinking some hot coffee and worrying about a very petite Japanese teenager he just saw who’s pregnant with twins, and if her small body can carry the foetuses to full term, when Abby enters the room. He looks up.

“Hi,” she says. “Nice work back there.”

Carter had saved a flat liner whose throat had been impaled with a large piece of metal. He first performed an emergency tracheotomy. The victim still wasn’t breathing and wasn’t responding to CPR or being zapped. Carter whipped out an electric saw, cut through the woman’s ribs, pried her chest open and got her heart going by pumping it with his bare hands. Well, not bare; he had gloves on, but he still brought her back from the dead with his hands. Then he removed the chunk of metal from her neck, sewed her all up and now she’s going be fine, even though she’ll have scars on her throat and the centre of her chest. Scars are better than dying.

Thanks,” he replies. “You were a great help too.”

Abby shrugs and makes her coffee, not expecting thanks. She’s just doing her job. Placing her paper cup on the table, she takes a seat opposite Carter. She sips her coffee and glances at him.

“So,” she begins conversationally. “Did you two break up?”

Startled, John stiffens in his chair. “Christ, is it that obvious?”

Taking another sip, Abby answers, “Only to me because I have personal knowledge of your…ah…relationship. Don’t worry. Nobody else would know.”

John sighs and gazes into his drink. “Well, that’s a relief, I guess.”

The brunette woman questions, “It is over?”

John sighs again. “Yeah. It’s over.” He gives Abby a sharp look. “Happy now?”

Abby appears taken aback by Carter’s almost angry tone. “No, Carter, I’m not happy,” she argues. “I don’t get happy when people I care about get hurt.”

John stares at her. She cares? Good. That’s good. Maybe he should ask her out right now. Before he can do that, Abby pats his hand.

“For what it’s worth,” she says understandingly, “I’m sorry.”

John nods. “Sure.”

Abby saying she’s sorry has made Carter feel depressed. He doesn’t want to feel depressed over Kovac. Breaking up with him is supposed to be a positive thing. Where are all the positive things he’s supposed to be feeling? Ah well, you get that when you’re giving up an addiction. It takes a while for all the negative shit to dissipate out of your system. But it will. In due course. He remains silent while they both finish their beverages. He decides he’ll ask her later, at the end of his shift. If he asks now, he’ll just seem desperate. Abby gets up and tosses her disposable cup in the trash. Just before she leaves the room, she shoots him a smug look and says, “By the way. Told ya this would happen.”

Making a face of irritation, John shoves his chair back and tips the dregs of his coffee in the sink. “Yes,” he sardonically mutters to himself. “Yes, you did.” As he crumples up his cup and slams it in the bin, he adds, “Bitch.”

Bitch or not, John still asks her out when he clocks off. After a moment of debating, Abby says okay. She isn’t surprised that Carter has come crawling back to her like the mutt he is. She told him not to do this but he’s done it. How pathetic. What makes it more pathetic is that she’s taking him back. She doesn’t know why she’s agreeing to see him again after the way he cheated on her with Kovac but spending time with a sexually confused male is better than spending time with reruns of Full House and a soggy, tasteless TV dinner. She’d rather be screwing a real guy, even if he is half gay, than masturbating while thinking of John Stamos. An actual dick is way better than an imaginary one. And if Carter wants to take her out to dinner in a nice restaurant, the least she can do is let him bone her.

As they choose their dinner destination outside by the main entrance of the hospital while Abby has a smoke, the automatic doors open and Kovac strides out in his long winter coat. Sam is not with him. But that doesn’t mean they won’t be banging each other back at his apartment later. In a clear voice, making sure Kovac can hear him, John reaffirms, “I’ll pick you up at eight, Abby. Okay?” Abby stubs her cigarette in the snow and replies, “Okay.” She notices Kovac and catches him sneaking a look at John. She sees a flicker of something in Kovac’s eyes, some emotion, but it is gone before she can identify it. She thinks he’s probably annoyed because John’s not pining over him like all of his other dumped conquests do. Except for Abby. She didn’t pine over Kovac when he ditched her. She doesn’t pine over anybody. She just hardens her heart a fraction more. Anyway, she doesn’t care what Kovac thinks of her and John going out. The two men aren’t together anymore so John can date whomever he desires. And that’s her. Knowing that somebody wants her, even if it is befuddled John Carter, makes her feel less like a hideous spinster. She doesn’t want to end up like her mother, old and alone and let’s face it, crazy as the Mad Hatter. She may have received a portion of the crazy gene that runs in her family but she vows never to let it rule her life or ruin her chances of finding a man who’ll put up with her. John has put up with her before. And he’s rich. He’ll do for now. She still has an hour of work of to go and then she’ll head home to shower, put on her makeup and dress in something slutty.

At the restaurant, John and Abby eat their meals and make awkward small-talk. That’s where food comes in handy. It gives your mouth something to do when you can’t think of anything to say. Abby doesn’t ask Carter what happened with him and Kovac. Carter doesn’t bring the subject up either. He really doesn’t want to discuss the whole closet issue. They can make bursts of idle chit-chat between chewing but John is finding it hard to look directly into Abby’s eyes and it seems she feels the same way. She’s fidgeting and appears ill-at-ease. She is wearing a little black dress that shows off her cleavage and her hair is tumbling over her shoulders in curling-iron spirals. She’s got more makeup on than normal. She looks sexy but sex with her is the last thing on Carter’s mind. He’s just attempting to make it through dinner. Anyone looking at them would believe they were on a blind date; they seem that uncomfortable. But they’ve known each other for years. For one unbearable minute, tapping his fingers and peering around the restaurant while waiting for dessert to arrive, John wonders what the hell he is doing dating Abby again. It hasn’t worked out the last couple of times so why should this time be any different? He can’t exactly say he’s having fun. Kovac’s cruel smile fills John’s head and with a surge of determination he recalls why he’s here again. He’s in recovery now. He’s getting on with his life, getting over Kovac and that’s why he’s here with Abby. She’s like his chemotherapy. Not pleasant to endure, but ultimately destroys the disease that has invaded Carter’s body. With her assistance, John can beat this thing. He’ll just have to grit his teeth and remember that she’s helping him, no matter how awful it feels to be in her presence. He can handle her being around him at work but here, alone with her, in a romantic setting; it’s like he’s waiting for the nausea for kick in. Already, his gut is churning. They are both relieved when the bill comes and after Carter pays with his MasterCard, they reclaim their jackets and brave the chilly walk back to Carter’s car.

When he asks Abby back to his place for a nightcap, John DOES feel sick. They both know there will be no drinking going on. Carter doesn’t really feel like having sex with her; the thought is most disagreeable, but he knows he has to do it if he’s going to move on. He’s got to get accustomed to women again. He’ll just have to close his eyes and think of Kate Winslet. Now, that’s a real woman, John muses. Beautiful, elegant, talented, sensual, independent, financially well off, motherly and down to earth. She’s a goddess. If she’d have him, he’d marry her in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, she’s already married. But he can still fantasise about her and he will, if it means he can do it with Abby without his pecker going limp on him. It’s not that Abby is physically unattractive; it’s just that her personality, akin to a cold fish with bipolar disorder, tends to grate on his nerves. And he still hasn’t forgiven her for turning down his marriage proposal. He’ll never ask her that again, regardless of how much he wants a wife. Abby is not wife material. She doesn’t even want children. Her idea of being maternal is watering her plants. Yet, she’ll suffice for a sexual partner and as a convenient tool to make Kovac envious. He’ll show that bastard that he too can score some pussy.

Once inside Carter’s apartment, he finds himself actually making drinks for the two of them. Lord, he needs a few to be able to do this. If he’s half drunk before they go to bed, it will be a damn sight easier for him.

“What would you like?” John asks her, indicating to his home bar and all the bottles of alcohol on the shelf.

“Screwdriver. Without the screw,” she quips.

“Still on the wagon?” he asks with raised eyebrows. Abby nods and smiles wryly. The last drink she had was the same day she caught Kovac and Carter together. She needed it then but she’s managed to stay sober since that night.

“You don’t mind if I drink?” he queries courteously. She shakes her head.

“You don’t mind if I smoke?” She reaches for her packet of cigarettes. That’s one vice she can’t quit.

“It’s fine. One OJ coming up,” John says and fixes Abby’s non-alcoholic orange juice. For himself, he pours a gin and tonic and makes it potent. The sooner he gets some artificial courage, the sooner he can do this. All the pre-sex activities, like talking, are simply agonising. John gives Abby her drink and they both sit on his leather lounge. They look at each other. Carter is wearing a white shirt and black pants with a black leather belt. Abby smiles nervously at him and John smiles back but it comes out more like a grimace. He’s wondering where they should do it. On the couch or in his bed? It will have to be in his bed because his condoms are in the bedside drawer. They can start on the couch, though. Should he make the first move and kiss her? God, he doesn’t want to. Maybe they can have sex without kissing. Kissing just seems too personal. It’s not like he’s in love with her or anything. What if he goes straight for her neck? If he nibbles her neck and then heads for her breasts, she won’t miss the kissing. Then he can peel her dress off and her bra and panties. What if she wants to suck him? Not likely; she’s never really enjoyed it in the past. She’s more of the lie-there-and-let-the-guy-do-all-the-work kind of lay. Should he go down on her? No, that’s just as personal as kissing. Perhaps he can get her ready with his hand. Much like Kovac was doing to Sam, his brain has to remind him. Thank you brain, John says disparagingly to himself. I’m trying NOT to think of Kovac here. Would you mind shutting up now, please? His brain obeys. Right, so he’ll get her lubed up with his hand and then carry her into the bedroom where he’ll unclothe himself, roll on a rubber and then…what? Do her missionary style? That would be okay, as he’s in the dominant position, but she might try chick tricks like gazing into his eyes or expecting him to kiss her while he’s banging her. He won’t be able to gaze into her eyes without his peter shrivelling up like an overcooked sausage. You only do that soulful stuff with the one you love. He thought he loved her once, but no more. If he gazes into her cinnamon coloured eyes, he’ll only be wishing they were bright blue with green specks and he can’t have that. Turning the light off would stop him from having to look at her but how can he stop her from kissing him? What if he begins in the missionary position then flips them over so that she’s on top? Yeah, that’s the direction he ought to take. If she’s doing the Cowgirl she’ll feel like she’s the one in control and she’ll be loving it so much, she won’t bother leaning down to kiss him. And if she tries to, Carter will shove his fingers in her mouth so she can’t. He might even be a little rough with her, spank her a bit, that kind of thing. She doesn’t mind a bit of rough-housing. And when she comes, then so will Carter and before she tries to cuddle up to him, he’ll get up to take the condom off and jump in the shower. Hopefully by then, she’ll have gotten the hint and gone home. He certainly doesn’t want her staying the night. She probably won’t want to stay the night anyway, seeing as she believes she doesn’t need anyone else to feel self-sufficient.

Alrighty. That’s the game plan. He’s got every move covered. He drains his drink, sets the glass down on the coffee table and takes a fortifying breath, preparing himself to go in for the kill. He just wants to get this over with.

As he turns towards Abby, the phone rings.

Saying a private prayer for the welcome interruption, John excuses himself and gets up to answer it, picking the receiver up from the cradle.

“John speaking.”

Abby watches curiously as a frown mars Carter’s unlined forehead.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asks anxiously. Abby looks for an ashtray but Carter doesn’t have any so she ducks into the kitchen to dispose of her cigarette butt in the trash. When she comes back into the living area, she notices that Carter has turned deathly white.

“When? How?” he is asking in alarm. There is a long period where he is listening to whoever is on the other end of the line, all the life dying out of his eyes. Then he slowly hangs up, staring into space.

Concerned, Abby goes up to him and touches his forearm. John doesn’t even seem to know that she’s there.

“What is it?” she probes. She’s thinking that something has happened to one of his family members, a car crash or a catastrophic event similar to that. John doesn’t look at Abby. In a monotone voice, he states, “Kem lost the baby. This morning.”

“Oh my God, John, I’m so sorry,” Abby gushes. She knew that Kem had been due to give birth any day now. She’d heard Carter talking about it with Dr Chen. He had sounded excited but at the same time very sad because he wouldn’t be able to be there. Not that Kem had forbidden him to visit her and the baby, but that when he got the call that she was in labour and he’d arranged the earliest possible flight, it would be all be over by the time he landed in Africa. He had sounded despondent that he would miss the birth. But now there will be no birth. No live birth, anyway. For Kem will still have to deliver it. As a nurse and aspiring doctor, Abby knows that Kem will have to be induced into labour but the baby will be stillborn. She thinks it’s truly horrible that women are forced to deliver a dead baby and that a C-section would be much less painful for the mother but that’s the way it’s done. The body has to complete the process. If the baby dies, it still has to be born the old fashioned way. Poor Carter. Seeing his baby, even if he couldn’t be a family with Kem, was something he was really looking forward to. And now he’ll never see it. What an absolute tragedy.

“Is there anything I can do?” Abby offers. John continues staring into space.

“Yes,” he finally says, not matching her gaze. “You can go. I need to be alone right now.”

“Are you sure?” Abby thinks that John should have some support during a deeply emotional crisis like this. “‘Cos I can stay if you-”

“No. Just go. Please.” John sounds flat and vacant. Abby, worried about him, wants to stay to console him but since he asked her leave, then she will do that. If he needs her, he knows where she lives.

“All right,” Abby says, retrieving her coat and bag. “Call me if you need to talk, okay?”

There is no answer from Carter. Abby gives him one last worried glance and leaves. John stands there by the telephone for a long time, eyes unfocused, face blank.

As if he is sleepwalking, he lifts the receiver and dials a number.

“Hello?” a voice answers.

Carter doesn’t say anything.

“Hello? Who’s there?” The voice is getting wary.

Eventually, Carter speaks. “It’s John,” he says quietly.

“Carter?” Kovac exclaims, alarm bells ringing in his head. John sounds strange, not like himself at all. Something is very wrong.

“Are you okay?” he enquires, his brows drawing together in apprehension.

In that same eerily quiet and calm tone, Carter explains, “The baby died.”

Kovac has no need to ask which baby. “Oh, John…” he says softly. Kovac’s heart bleeds for the second doctor and he shuts his eyes in sadness and empathy. He knows what it’s like to lose a child. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” John replies. He is quite collected for someone whose whole world has been turned upside down. “It was a boy, you know.”

“Really? Oh…” Kovac doesn’t know what else to say. For Christ’s sake, Carter’s son just died. No words can make the guy feel any better. “Do you want me to come over?”

“No, I’m fine,” Carter says, even though he doesn’t sound fine. “I won’t be coming in to work tomorrow. Can you tell Weaver for me? I just don’t feel like talking to anyone else right now.”

“Sure, I’ll tell her,” Kovac promises. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come over? You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I want to be alone,” John repeats. “Just tell Weaver for me, okay Luka?”

Kovac nods. “Okay. And John?”

“What?”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

John hangs up. Kovac listens to the dial tone for a few seconds and presses the END CALL button on his cordless phone, placing it back on his bedside table.

“What was that about?” Sam asks him, lolling in Kovac’s bed with a sheet wrapped around her. Long blonde curls tickle her naked shoulders. Kovac rubs his face with his palm, appearing distracted and tense. He turns to her, sitting on the edge of the mattress, clad in only his boxer shorts.

“It was Carter. Kem lost the baby.”

“Oh Jeez. That’s awful,” she sympathises. “The poor guy.”

Pulling on his pants, Luka declares, “I’m going over there. With the condition he’s in, I wouldn’t trust him to be alone. For all I know, he’s already taken a bunch of pills.”

“Yeah, you should go. Watch over him,” Sam agrees. She knows of Carter’s previous painkiller problem. She also knows that Luka and Carter are very good friends so she sees nothing unusual about the Croatian rushing to his buddy’s aid. After all, Carter rescued Luka from the inhospitable Congo so Luka owes him his life for that.

“I should get back to Alex anyway,” she mutters, reaching for her own clothes. “He’s probably already terrorised the babysitter half to death.”

Kovac shrugs into a gunmetal grey pullover and then faces the blonde. He clears his throat and says, “Sam, I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

Sam halts, her shirt buttons undone. “Why not?”

Running a hand through his thick dark hair, Kovac looks to the ceiling and then back at the nurse, exhaling an uneasy breath. “Because I’m in love with someone,” he admits. “We aren’t together at present but I think we should be. I’ve tried to move on but I can’t. I’m sorry Sam, but that’s the way it is.”

“Oh,” she says, hiding her disappointment and resuming getting dressed. “Well, okay then. That information could have been more useful to me, like yesterday.”

“I know. Sorry,” Kovac apologises, biting his lip. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I can’t be with anyone else when all I think of is them. That’s why I’m going to see them tonight.”

“Hey, who am I to stand in the way of true love and…What?” Sam halts once more, staring at Kovac with disbelief, his words only just registering in her mind. “Wait a minute. You’re not talking about…about Carter are you?”

“I’m afraid I am,” Kovac fills her in, meeting her incredulous stare, letting her see the truth in his face.

“Oh,” she says again, digesting the information. “Ohh…” She makes a nod of acceptance. “Ya know, that kind of explains a lot. God, I should have seen this coming.”

“I’ve been in love with him for ages. It’s not like you’ve turned me gay or anything,” Kovac attempts to joke.

Sam smiles, zipping up her skirt. “I get it. I know I’m not THAT ugly.” She grabs her belongings and pushes Kovac towards the door.

“Get over there and make sure he doesn’t kill himself,” she orders. Kovac slips on his shoes and collects his car keys.

“I’ll drop you off on the way,” he suggests but Sam hands him his coat and gives him another push.

“I’ll get a cab. Just go, dammit! Take care of him. Love him! Lord knows the man needs it.”

“Thanks Sam.” Kovac pecks her on the cheek. “You’re the best.”

As he speedily disappears around the corner, off to save John’s life, Sam sighs. “You lucky bastard, Carter.”

Kovac pretty much has to break John’s door down, because the younger man won’t come and open it, no matter how hard he bangs or yells. He runs into the bathroom and finds it unoccupied, thanking God John is not floating in a tub of his own blood, or slumped over the toilet covered in vomit, pills scattered around him. He can’t find John anywhere, not in the kitchen, not in the bedroom, not even on the balcony. He checks to make sure John has not become a human pancake on the road below but there are no signs of suicide and no sign of Dr John Carter.

“John? Are you here? Son of a bitch!” He whirls around, wondering where the fuck John could have gone, when he hears a whimper coming from the living area. He discovers Carter curled up in a man-ball behind the leather lounge suite. Not dead. He crouches down and grasps Carter’s shoulder.

“Here you are, ljepota,” he breathes gratefully. “You had me so worried.”

John’s white shirt is rumpled and tear-stained but there are no marks of blood. Knowing Carter’s fear of knives ever since he’d been stabbed in the back, it’s unlikely he’d do himself in with anything even resembling a blade. If he was going to kill himself, he’d OD on drugs. It’s fast, effective and painless.

“Have you taken anything?” Luka asks frantically. “Any pills?”

John just sniffles, face hidden.

“Tell me!” Kovac commands, shaking him. “Tell me what you took!”

In a small little-boy voice, John replies from behind his protective arms, “Nothing. Only gin.”

Kovac raises his head and scans the room, seeing the empty bottle of gin lying sideways on the bench of the bar. Carter had abandoned the glass after the second drink and chugged it right out of the bottle, sans tonic or even ice.

“Gin? That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“You swear to me?”

“I swear. On Gamma’s grave.”

If John swears on his beloved Gamma’s grave, he is telling the utmost truth. With overwhelming relief, Kovac relaxes and tries to coax John out of his foetal-like huddle.

“John, look at me. Please.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.” John’s words are slurred. He sounds drunk. And he is. While some people get violent and angry with they are drunk, others get happy and talkative. Some get stupid and clumsy. Drunk John Carter is presently regressing to boyhood. He is vulnerable and scared and just wants to hide from everyone.

“C’mon, honey. Look at me,” Kovac urges, petting his arm. Hesitantly, John uncurls and lowers his hands, peering at Kovac with bloodshot eyes. He’s definitely been crying. A lot. And there are pink patches on his cheek, from where he’s inadvertently rubbed his skin against the carpet.

“Why’d you call me ‘honey’?” he questions. Kovac smiles gently and brushes a lock of hair out of Carter’s face.

“Because you’re sweet. And I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” John says sulkily. “You love Sam.”

“I do not love her,” Luka says firmly. “I love you. And I told her that.”

John gazes at Luka uncertainly. “You did?”

“I most definitely did,” Luka reiterates. He tugs at John’s arm. “C’mon, up you go.” He helps Carter to sit up on the carpet and Carter tucks his legs under him, like a kid sitting on the floor of a kindergarten, ready to listen to a storybook. The younger male tilts his head and pouts.

“Do you really love me?”

“Yes. I do. With all my heart,” Luka vows, grazing John’s cheekbone with his knuckles.

John squints at him speculatively. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

Exasperatedly, Kovac replies, “I’m here, aren’t I? When you called me I was so afraid you would do something to hurt yourself so I rushed over here as fast as I could. If anything happened to you…I don’t know what I’d do. You’re the only one I care about.”

“Were you with Sam tonight?”

John’s suspicious question causes Kovac to feel like a piece of shit. Here he was, in the arms of some woman he hardly even cares for, when he should have been here, comforting John, being here for him in his time of loss. He decides to come clean.

“Yes, I was with her.” At John’s scowl, Kovac hurriedly adds, “But I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Carter drawls scathingly.

Luka relents. “Okay, I was GOING to sleep with her. We went to the movies and had some dinner and when you called, we were in bed and we were just about to…you know. But then when I spoke to you, I realised that I didn’t want to be with her. I was only with her because I couldn’t be with you. I told her right then I didn’t want to see her anymore and that I loved you. And I left. And that’s the truth.”

“Did you fuck her in the supply closet?” John wants to know.

“No. What you saw was pretty much it.” Luka cringes in remembrance.

“So, these last two weeks, you haven’t slept with her at all?”

“No. I haven’t slept with anyone. Barring yesterday’s unfortunate lapse of judgement, the last person I was sexually intimate with was you. ”

“Why did you have to take her into OUR closet, Luka?” The damage caused by Luka’s malicious deed is evident in Carter’s visage. As well as irate, he seems close to tears again. “Why did you make me see that? Huh?”

Luka lowers his eyes, ashamed of what he did. “I guess I was punishing you, Carter. Punishing you for dumping me. It was a mean, cruel, nasty thing to do and I’m sorry. I regret it. If I could take it back, I would.”

Still upset by the incident, John glowers at the second doctor, looking for all the world like a toddler whose best friend stole his candy.

“You deceived me. You betrayed me,” he accuses Kovac in a wounded child-like voice.

“I know I did. But I will never, ever do anything like that to you again, John, I promise,” Luka says impassionedly, his gaze fully connecting with John’s, blue irises into brown. “I just want to be with you. If you let me, I will love you. I will take care of you. I will be there for you. Always. Is that what you want?”

John doesn’t reply but his lip is trembling.

“Do you want to be with me too?” Luka takes John’s hand. It is trembling also. “I know you feel something for me, Carter. Why did you call me tonight? Out of everyone else you could have called at the hospital, why did you call me? Why didn’t you call Abby? Weren’t you taking her on a date tonight? ”

“I did take her out,” Carter sullenly informs Luka, yanking his hand back. “And it was the worst date I’ve ever had. I was only doing it to make you jealous.”

“Well, you succeeded there, kid,” Luka says dryly. “I was going out of my mind thinking of you with her. She’s not good for you, John. She’ll only mess you up more.”

“Tell me about it. I knew the whole time it was a very bad idea. Ya know, I was actually going to sleep with her too,” John tells Luka in self-disgust. “But I was saved by the bell.” He laughs humourlessly. Kem calling him with the bad news stopped him from having to screw Abby. Talk about fucking timing.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Luka says with a measure of thankfulness. “But you haven’t answered my question. Why did you call me?”

“I…I don’t…” Carter finishes helplessly. He can’t or won’t answer that.

“Sometimes you astonish me with your unexpected affection and then the next thing I know, you go and tell me to get lost. One minute you need me, the next you don’t. You confuse me very much, Carter,” Luka confesses. “Every time we get close, you back off. Why do you keep running away from me? Why do you shut me out? All I want to do is love you. Why won’t you let me love you?”

John hiccups. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

The intoxicated doctor gazes at his knees. He miserably says, “Because you’ll leave me.”

“But I won’t,” Luka tries to reassure him. “I won’t do that. I only left you because you kept telling me to, you idiot. If you stop pushing me away, I will be here forever.”

“How can I believe that?” Carter says angrily. “Everyone I care about dies or leaves me. It’s the pattern of my life. My brother, Abby, Gamma, Kem. They all left me in one way or the other. And now my son has left me.”

Carter’s voice cracks. “He’s gone, Luka. My son is gone. My baby boy.” He hiccups again, his face woefully etched with grief and despair, his chocolate eyes almost black with mourning.

Overcome with sorrow, Kovac takes Carter’s slim figure in his arms and Carter doesn’t try to resist. “I’m so sorry, udvurati. So very sorry…” he whispers, rubbing his lover’s back. “It’s all right, John. You can cry.”

John shakes his head against Kovac’s shoulder. “No,” he says resolutely, his voice muffled in Kovac’s coat. “I’ve cried enough. I’m tired of crying. I’m just…tired.” He allows himself to sag weakly against Luka’s bigger form. Carter smells like gin and expensive cologne.

“You wanna take care of me, Luka? Well, I’m letting you. I’m too fucked up to take care of myself,” Carter groans drunkenly and wearily.

“Well, it’s about bloody time,” Luka announces in his foreign accent. He tells Carter to hang onto him and as the smaller man’s arms go around his neck, Kovac lifts him and carries Carter to his bedroom, just like out of a romance novel. With his broad shoulders and rock-hard biceps, Kovac easily carries John’s slender weight. He lays his bundle on the bed and as John sleepily watches, Kovac removes Carter’s belt.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Carter slurs. “I said you could take care of me. Not take advantage of me. I’ll sue your ass if you try anything while I’m mentally incapable of consenting to…um…stuff that I haven’t consented to.”

“Don’t call your lawyer. I’m not taking any advantages. Just making you more comfortable,” Kovac assures John, laying the belt on top of John’s clothes cabinet. Kovac removes his own coat and hangs it over the back of a chair. He then takes off his shoes and joins John on the bed, lying next to his alcohol-affected amigo. Kovac cups John’s face in his hands and kisses the younger male’s mouth, tenderly and sweetly.

“Predivan,” he murmurs against Carter’s lips. Carter wrinkles his nose.

“I’m not beautiful,” he quarrels. “Look at me. I don’t need a mirror to know I’m drunk and dishevelled, I got carpet burns on my face, my eyes are like roadmaps and I reek of spirits.”

“You’re still beautiful to me,” Luka decrees and kisses him one more time before hitting the touch lamp and making it switch off. In the darkness of the room, he slips his loving arms around Carter, who wriggles, gets comfortable and snuggles back into him. Despite grieving over his lost son, John sighs deeply and contentedly. This is comforting. He needs this. Having Luka embrace him like he’s the most important person in the solar system. He is glad he told Abby to get out and he’s glad Luka disobeyed his request and came over. He’d rather snuggle with Luka than Abby any day. If she was here, he may as well snuggle with a giant female praying mantis.

“At least you won’t bite my head off,” he mutters.

“I beg your pardon?” Luka asks, puzzled. John chuckles.

“Nothin’. I’m just wasted.” Then in a fretful tone he queries, “You’re not just gonna leave in the middle of the night, are you, Kovac?”

“Nope. Not even if Kerri Weaver calls me herself and tells me to get down to the E.R. I’d rather get fired than leave you.” He squeezes John tight.

“Cool,” John returns, satisfied.

“Sleep well, dear John,” Luka wishes, planting a kiss into Carter’s mussed hair. “I love you.”

As he drifts off to drunken dreamland, Carter mumbles, “Love you too, Luka.”

Now it is Luka’s turn to cry. As John soundly sleeps, he cries for his partner’s loss. He cries for the father Carter is not going to be. But most of all he cries with joy. For his brown-eyed boy loves him.

And all night long, Kovac holds him close to his heart.

***