Instant Attraction, Part 10
In Memory...
By Miesque
miesque48@hotmail.com

Disclaimer again: I do not own Luka or Kerry.  The $uit$ at NBC, Warner Bros., Amblin, & Constant C do. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Let's just say I've been attacked by inspiration. Three in a week...seems like a record for me. But believe me, part eleven is going to be much harder to write. Hope I don't seem like I'm rushing things, but when the muse speaks...

A follow up to “All in the Family”

Previous installments: Instant Attraction; Room For Rent; Fired; Blackout; On The Line; Point of Refuge; Heart to Heart; Double-Take; Broken Valentine

Thanks again to Canada for editing and suggestions.



Pardon, Goddess of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight;
For the which, with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.
Midnight, assist our moan!
Help us to sigh and groan
Heavily, heavily;
Graves, yawn, and yield your dead,
Till death be uttered,
Heavily, heavily.

~Shakespeare, ‘Much Ado About Nothing’



Luka sat motionless in the pew, staring down at his hands. Looking out the window, he could see snow falling. He glanced down at his watch, and saw that it was six in the morning. He was supposed to have breakfast with his brother at eight, but he had decided to call and cancel. For now, he wanted to sit and be alone for a while.

What had happened? He still wasn’t entirely sure. It was all a blur. He only remembered bits and pieces. The blood on the floor. Lucy so pale and helpless. Carter’s terrified eyes. Blood in the foley bag. Performing CPR on Lucy. Elizabeth yelling “Cut! Cut!”. The arguing at the front desk between himself, Mark and Kerry. Kerry’s accusations. Mrs. Sobreiki...

He looked down at his scrub top, which was still covered with blood. Carter’s and Lucy’s blood. Carter was still alive, which was good. But Lucy...with so much of a bright future ahead of her, cut down before she had even had a chance to start.

Luka was sure there would be repercussions in the future for him. Suspension, possibly, or at least a write-up. Kerry was fair but she was just. He would be disappointed in her if she didn’t write him up for his neglect. It was his fault, in many ways, for what had happened. If he had done rounds instead of letting Mark leave. He had gotten angry, but they all had been angry and upset, horrified at what had happened. They were the ones in charge. Kerry had approved the party. But Luka had let the music get too loud. Mark hadn’t done rounds, but Luka could have done them himself. Carter hadn’t filled him in on Sobreiki, but Luka could have followed his instincts. Something had been gnawing at his stomach all night, hadn’t it? Something had made him feel uneasy. But he had chosen not to follow his instincts.

He would never forget the stricken look on Kerry’s face when he came back in from Doc Magoo’s, after hearing that Lucy was dead. The nurses had all been quiet and subdued, speaking in low voices. He had wanted to shake them... “Whispering and walking on shells won’t help anything!” But he, too, had become even more quiet.

Kerry had just sat there at the admit desk, her face so pale and stark, tears in her eyes. Her friend had been almost fatally wounded. A young woman with a bright future was dead.   And the man that had done it would probably get off with a plea of insanity and spend his days... Luka choked suddenly... in a mental hospital.

He felt bile rise to his throat, but he took a gasping breath, forcing it back down and making the sign of the cross. No, he thought. I’m not that crazy yet. I haven’t gone totally insane yet. He remembered what Mrs. Sobreiki had said: “Just because he’s a little depressed doesn’t mean he’s crazy.” Luka had to wonder if that was true.

I wish, I wish, he said to himself. Jasna had said that often, blowing seeds off dandelions. He hadn’t thought about it much at the time, but he wondered what his daughter had been wishing for. She had been five when she died. What does a five-year old wish for? Luka couldn’t remember being five, so he didn’t know. “God, I wish I had asked her,” he said out loud. “I wish, I wish...” He closed his eyes, hoping for the wish to come true. But it never did.

Luka wished he could have thought of something to say to Kerry, but they had avoided each other for the rest of the night. When his shift ended, he had taken refuge in the hospital chapel. He doubted Lucy was Catholic, but he said a prayer for her nonetheless, and lit four candles. One for Tatjana, one for Marko, one for Jasna, and one for Lucy.

“I don’t understand this,” he whispered. “I don’t understand at all. I just hope it was quick. I hope it was painless... that you didn’t feel anything. That when it ended, you had people around you who cared.”

He was glad he was alone. He didn’t want anyone to see his tears. He hadn’t cried in so long that it was actually a relief to let it happen. He let his tears flow unchecked, not bothering to wipe them away. It was the least he could do for Lucy. He hadn’t done enough for her before.



Davor was tapping his foot, angrily glaring around the ER. He had come in to see his brother that morning, alarmed when Luka never showed up for breakfast, and had found himself witnessing a terrible scene. Police were everywhere-yellow tape blocked the entrance to one of the exam rooms. A policeman, emerging from the lounge, stared at him curiously, as if he recognized him, but passed without comment. He didn’t see Luka anywhere, though, and that worried him immensely.

“What happened?” he asked Randi.  She looked shaken.

“We had two stabbings... one of our residents... and a med student...” she gasped. The phone was ringing, but she was ignoring it.

“Good God! Are they all right?”

“No...the med student...”

“Randi!”

Davor looked up to see Kerry crutching toward them. He was startled at her appearance. She wore no make-up. Her eyes puffy from crying. She looked exhausted.

“Did you get hold of Mrs. Knight yet?” she asked the desk clerk.

Randi nodded. “She’s on a plane now,” she said softly.

“Good. And the Carter family. Did you contact them?”

“No. They’re ‘abroad’ and can’t be...can’t be located right now. Carter’s grandmother is still trying...”

Kerry looked up at Davor, but seemed to looking right through him. He stared down at her, brow furrowed. “Where is my
brother, Dr. Weaver?”

“I don’t know. He got off at six...”

“I didn’t see him leave,” Randi choked. “He came out of the lounge a while ago... the police questioned him the longest...”

Bastards, Davor thought. Of course they’d question the foreigner first. “What happened, Dr. Weaver? People were stabbed?”

“Yes. One of our medical students, Lucy Knight, was killed. And one of our fourth-year residents was stabbed but he’s...stable. Why are you here?”

“I’m looking for my brother. We were supposed to have breakfast but he didn’t show up. Where is he?”

“I told you I don’t know!” Kerry snapped.  Suddenly, she froze and stared up at Davor. “He never showed up?”

“No.  He didn’t.”

Kerry swallowed. “He must still be around here somewhere, then,” she said, her voice flat and tired. “I’m sorry, Davor. It’s just been...”

“Awful. I can imagine.” He looked around. “Please...don’t worry about Luka now. I’m sure he’s fine.”

She stared up at him, and then shook her head. “I can’t believe this happened...and I...” She stopped and turned away, her stomach lurching again. She had blamed Luka for the whole thing. Had asked him to talk to Mrs. Sobreiki...

But really, who was better at that than Luka? She certainly couldn’t send Mark in to deal with her, to cope with the police. Who had better experience at this sort of thing-explaining horribly impossible things to people than Luka?

Kerry looked back at him. “Davor, I would really appreciate it if you found Luka for me. I need to talk to him.”

“I’ll find him. If no one saw him leave, I can assume he’s still here...” Davor pulled his gloves off, then removed his coat and scarf.  “Kerry, Luka would never...”

She swallowed and nodded, then crutched quickly away, back toward her office. There were many phone calls to make, forms to fill out...decisions to make.



It took Davor almost an hour to find Luka. He wasn’t able to think like his brother-to get into his head.  So he had trouble deciding where Luka was most likely to go if he were still in the hospital.

He was striding purposefully down the hall when he nearly collided with a beautiful, dark-haired woman dressed in a peach- colored nurses’ scrubs. She glanced up at him, started to continue down the hall, then did a startled double-take and rushed back to him.

“Luka?”

“No... I’m Davor... Luka’s brother.”

“I’m Carol Hathaway. Luka never mentioned having a brother.”

Davor smiled, studying her for a moment. So this is the famous Carol Hathaway, he thought. It didn’t please him to see that she bore such a startling resemblance to Tatjana. Didn’t Luka see it?

“Oh well... I’m kind of the black sheep of the family. Luka is... something entirely different.”

She stared at him for a moment, startled a little by Davor’s resemblance to Luka. “Are you looking for Luka?”

“Yes. Have you seen him?”

“No. Not since last night. We had a couple of stabbings, you know...”

“Yes. I heard about that. Did you know the victims?”

She only nodded. Davor eyed her suspiciously. Something about this woman made him uneasy.

“Well,” Carol said at last. “I’ll keep an eye out for him... I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

“You spend much time with Luka? Are you dating him?”

Carol’s eyes narrowed. “No, I’m not dating him. He’s just a friend.”

Davor didn’t like that at all. He had seen how his brother seemed to light up a little when he talked about this woman. There was none of that light in her about Luka. He watched her walk away and suddenly laughed to himself. Apparently, she’s blind, he thought, and went back to his search for his missing brother.



Luka was leaning against the glass, looking at the babies in the bassinets.

He had come up to the maternity ward an hour ago. That had been a blessing and a curse. The OB on call was detained, and Luka was suddenly dragged into a delivery room by a frantic young nurse who apparently hadn’t seen a birth before.

The woman about to deliver was forty years old, but in good shape-BP was excellent, heart rate only a little elevated. “It’s our first child,” her husband-who appeared several years younger-said nervously. “Can you do anything, doc?”

Well, of course. Suddenly so calm he wondered if he was having an out-of-body experience, Luka took charge. He told the woman to hum, which appeared to help. The husband, whose name was David, kept asking annoying questions until Luka snapped at him to shut up. At 8:42 in the morning, Luka found himself standing in the delivery room, holding a wriggling baby girl in his hands, the delivery having taken only minutes. The woman was crying, David looked delighted. But Luka could tell by their expressions that they were worried. He immediately asked for the tests on the already screaming girl, and after washing up came back with the good news. “She’s perfect,” he informed them, smiling softly. “Perfectly normal.”

“What’s your name?” the woman asked, holding her new daughter in her arms, smiling happily into the pinched little face.

“Luka. Luka Kovac.”

The couple glanced at each other. “That’s it!” David grinned. “We’ll name her Lucy!”

“We’ve been fighting about it for days, but it’s perfect,” the woman-named Olivia Patterson-informed Luka. “Lucy Patterson.”

He was staring at little Lucy Patterson now, watching as the nurse changed the baby’s diaper. Eight pounds, two ounces, twenty inches long, with dark-blonde hair.

It was good, he thought. They hadn’t known it, of course, but they had also named their baby after Lucy Knight-he took no credit for it at all. Hadn’t she told him it was always encouraging to deliver a healthy baby? She had been right.

Luka was still watching the babies, when he saw Davor’s reflection in the glass.

“You didn’t show up for breakfast, Luka,” Davor said tiredly. “It took me forever to find you.”

“I’m sorry,” Luka said softly. “It was a bad night.”

“Yes, I heard.” Davor peered through the window at the babies, and shook his head. He wasn’t good with children at all. But
Luka...children just flocked to him.

“Would you like some breakfast, Luka? We could go down to the cafeteria or something...”

“No. I have to make a phone call.”

“To who?”

Luka swallowed. “Kerry gave me... she referred me to a psychologist. I... I have to make an appointment.”

Davor nodded, restraining himself from embracing his brother. But he couldn’t hide the relief on his face. “Good, Luka. I’m glad to hear that. You need help.”

“I delivered a baby a little while ago,” Luka said, pointing at the only bassinet with a pink blanket. All the rest were blue. “That one. Lucy Patterson.”

Davor stared at his brother for a long time, then closed his eyes. “That’s good, Luka.”

They watched as a man and two older people came up to peer through the window at one of the babies. Davor smiled a little.  “Remember when Jasna was born? Papa telling you how to pick her up?”

“’Scoop!’” Luka laughed.

“Yep. Papa...you know, I miss him every day. Every day I see something that I wish he was around to see. Or I hear a good joke that I know would make him laugh.”

“You and Papa were always close.”

“Yeah, but Majka loved you the most,” Davor laughed. “And Grandpa. Grandpa thought the world of you.”

“He spoiled both of us rotten,” Luka countered, yawning and stretching. “I think he would have given us Paris as an Easter
present.”

“To you, he would. For me... eh, a toy dump truck!”

Luka only laughed in response, shaking his head. Davor liked seeing his brother smile a little. When Luka had left Zagreb, he had been a broken-down image of himself.  Now, the old Luka was shining through sometimes. The smile was still there, just as dazzling as always. The dry wit, the soft heart, and that goodness that made Luka such a special person in Davor’s eyes. A special person he doubted he’d ever understand.

“Anyway, Luka...Dr. Weaver wants to talk to you.”

“I can imagine,” Luka answered, his smile fading. “What happened last night... I was responsible. In charge of the board.”

Davor took a deep breath. “Whatever happens, Luka, I’m sure it will be okay. You can’t go around blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong...”

They stepped into the elevator, and Luka leaned heavily against the wall. “I wish I could follow that advice, Davor.”

“Then make the phone call first, before you talk to Dr. Weaver. That way, you’ll have that in your pocket, you know? She can yell and scream if she likes, but you can tell her you’re looking for help and she... she’ll be able to... I don’t know. She cares about you, Luka. In fact, she likes you. A lot.”

Luka barely heard his brother, though. He had closed his eyes, a bittersweet memory coming up into his mind like a mist. That day Davor had taken him by boat from Split to Pescara. On that day, for the first time since November the ninetheenth, Luka had felt something. He had looked up at the sky, watching a seagull wing up into the clouds. For a moment, Luka had held his hand out over the rails of the boat, feeling the water spraying on his skin, the salt burning the marks on his bare wrist. If it burned, it meant he was alive. So he had pulled his hand back and had seen Davor standing there, staring at him, puzzled.

That same look was on Davor’s face now.

“What?” Davor said suddenly. “What happened to you, Luka?”

“I’m still alive. That’s all,” Luka said quietly. “Hard to imagine, isn’t it? That I could still be alive.”

Davor took a deep breath, at a total loss for words. He sighed, put his hand behind Luka’s head, and pulled him to him, embracing him. He said nothing as Luka began to sob. He just cradled his brother in his arms, not giving a damn when the doors opened and a doctor stood there a moment, staring. Davor just pushed the button for the door to close and let Luka cry for as long as he needed.


To be continued...