For One Life

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 16/38

by JD and Mel

For several minutes the two men ate in shared silence, the sounds of those around them acting as a buffer while each was left to their own thoughts. Laying his fork on his plate Luka lifted his eyes to the older man across the table.

"Did you question what you could do after your wife..?" He let the question trail off as if not even realizing he was going to ask it, and found himself immediately regretting having said anything. "I'm sorry..it's not my business." He dropped his eyes back to his own plate.

"You should never apologize for asking questions, Luka," William chided him. His eyes watched the younger man. "I did question what I could and would do. Most of all, I was angry."

Luka lifted his eyes with the words, chewing on the inside of his lip as he listened. "Because you didn't do what you were supposed to be able to do?" It was all he could do to get the question out.

William nodded. "I began to wonder what all my training was for, all the things I was striving for, were worth if they couldn't save her, of all people."

He swallowed again, the words hitting too close to home for him, then dropped his eyes to his plate as he tried not to let the feelings take hold.

"But in time, I realized that I hadn't been training all that time so I could save one person, but instead many. And it was only Fate that caused the one I lost to be my wife."

"I keep thinking that maybe I'm not supposed to be a doctor." His voice barely carried as he continued to look at the table. "First my wife and daughter, then what happened at the hospital." He brushed his hand over his face. "I don't know what to think."

"Luka, it's war. It's wrong, and pretty far from fair, and I don't think you can think much about it." William chewed slowly on a piece of bread. "You could just as easily say Fate put you here, in the middle of a refugee camp, in the middle of a war, so that you could help." Luka raised his eyes again, the uncertainty clearly etched on his face, as William continued, "The point is, you can't always question and get an answer you can understand. You're here now. You should do what you can while you are here. That goes for this life just as much as for this camp itself."

"I don't have a life anymore, I'm just here."

"Then you should so something while you are here."

He released a breath, then swallowed again, his eyes reflecting pain far greater then one his age should know. "What if I can't do it?"

William laid one of his hands flat on the table. "What do you mean?"

The young Croat seemed to consider his answer carefully, or perhaps he was just searching for a way to explain what he didn't understand himself. "Even in the hospital I kept seeing them...I'd go to treat someone and it wouldn't be them. It would be my wife, or my daughter, or my son. I don't want anyone else to die because of me."

"Did you fail in those treatments because of what you saw?"

"There were times someone else would have to take them," Luka admitted, "especially when it first happened. But if no one could." He had to remember to breathe. "It wasn't the same anymore, t was almost like I had to not be there to treat them. I don't know how to explain it."

William nodded, his expression sympathetic. "You probably needed a little distance from the battle zone, distance and time."

"There isn't anyway to get away from it though, is there?" His voice barely carried across the table as he asked for confirmation of something he already knew.

"Not completely, Luka. It's not something to escape, in time you have to accept it. And in the time it takes to do that, you could heal yourself by healing others."

He finally lifted his eyes again. "Is that what you did?"

William nodded, slowly. "I felt like each person I was able to save, the more proud my wife became of me, because she had always liked that I didn't give up, that I was stubborn."

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to do it a second time. I tried before." He reached a hand over to touch the crutches. "This was what I got from that."

William shook his head a little. "You got that from some idiot with a gun. Not from practicing." He paused, folding his arms a moment, his dinner forgotten. "Doctors are people who can't give up that easily, Luka. If you were good enough to get through some schooling for it, you were a person like that. Where would our patients be if we gave up when something went drastically wrong?"

He held his answer an overlong minute, then released the almost bitter words carefully. "They'd be with my family."

"What about their husbands, then? You really want them to be separated like you were?" William's words were low, but strong. "Would you like there to be more fathers like you, who's daughters or sons perished because no one would help? Think about what you are saying, Luka."

He propped his elbows on the table before resting his head in his hands, the words ringing truer then he wanted to admit. When he lifted his head again, the battle in him was clearly visible. "There's no easy way is there?"

"No," William said, with no apology in his words. "There is never an easy path, for even in an easy life there are obstacles and tragedies. No one is immune from it. There's no way to avoid it. For each decision you make, someone else is affected." William
stabbed his finger against the table for emphasis. "When you decide to do nothing, you think you only affect yourself, but in truth it affects everyone around you who could have been helped or hindered by you." Luka listened to the words with his eyes downcast, but as the man finished talking he nodded his head in acceptance. "I'm sorry if this seems harsh, Luka," he added, "but I don't want to try and protect you from the world, I want you to live in it."

"I understand," Luka said, very low. "I just don't know that I can ever go back to how I was, it's like who I was died with them."

"You're right, Luka," William answered. "Who you are will never be the same, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You are grieving for yourself as much as for them. But you have the ability to recreate yourself from the ashes."

"What if I don't know how to do that?"

"No one can tell you how to do it. You just take different pieces of yourself and start putting them back together. You can't do it all at once."

He sighed as the man's advice washed over him and wished it were as easy as he made it out to be. He dragged his fork through the beans still on his plate with little interest. In truth his appetite still wasn't there, and he finally laid the utensil on the edge of the tin, the beans relatively untouched.

"You know, all of this discussion is academic unless you eat something," William said, smiling.

Luka lifted his eyes at the comment, then reached for the bread and pulled a bite off though it held even less appeal at the moment then the beans did.

"And here I was trying to tempt you with the doctors fare."

"I'm sorry..." He popped the bite in his mouth and chewed with little enthusiasm.

William chuckled, but before he could say anything else, another doctor ducked his head into the tent, speaking to the military guard, whom moved over to the table.

"Dr. Northstar? You're being called over to the main mess tent."

Luka looked up suddenly as the guard entered, his stomach plunging as he imagined the worst before he spoke.

"Is it an emergency?" William asked calmly.

The guard shook his head. "They only said you should come over to the main mess, Doctor. I don't know for sure."

Luka had already reached for his crutches before the man finished and was starting to rise."I can get back to the tent alone. You can go.."

The guard inclined his head politely, and went back to his station, and William rose as well. "I'd rather you come with me, Luka. I might be able to use you." He took up the plates and stacked them neatly, and the cups as well.

He wanted to protest but for reasons he didn't understand, he nodded as he got to his feet. After glancing towards where William had gone he headed slowly to the door. Was it curiousity? Or perhaps that he didn't wish to disappoint the older man by ignoring everything he had said.

William dropped the plates and cups off, and headed to meet him at the door, holding it open so Luka could get through. A small creaseline of worry had etched itself on William's head, but he didn't say anything aloud. Once outside Luka stopped, waiting for William to lead.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 17/38

by JD and Mel

William closed the mess door behind them, a set look to his face as they started out.

"How long did you study for?" he asked, his question casual but belying the worry in his dark eyes.

Luka took a glance around them..then adjusted the fit of the crutches under his arms before following. "I was in my third year." He lifted his eyes from the ground and glanced over to the man as he answered.

"That's very good," William said, offhandedly. He kept his pace adjusted to Luka's, but seemed almost restless. "That's more than many of our volunteers here."

He dropped his eyes again, swallowing the reply that almost forced itself out.

"Luka?" He glanced sideways. "Did you want to say something?"

"No." His reply came quietly.

"Well, let's hope it's nothing serious in here, yes?" he said with a smile, as they neared the mess tent.

Hunching his shoulders slightly against the chill Luka found himself simply nodding, the nervousness of what might be coming already sinking in.

There was the sound of many voices, shouted orders and arguments not yet completely resolved, as they got close to the mess tent. A few doctors and volunteers were coming and going from the entrance. As the neared the door Luka moved to the side. One of the doctors spotted William, and slowed. "Dr. Northstar," he called, "coming to give us a hand in there?"

William nodded. "If I knew what was going on, yes."

"Basically, a brawl," the younger man said, scratching at his forehead a moment. "I can't tell you how it started, just cooped up people, I guess. Throwing of blame about. It's more an issue of reinjury this time, as opposed to anything fresh."

As he waited, Luka shifted his weight, taking most of it on his good leg to give his arms a rest. Why had he allowed the doctor to persuade him to come? His eyes flicked between the refugees that lingered outside, their faces reflecting as much as any words might before returning to the two physicians.

William glanced back to Luka. "See, nothing too serious. Good time to dive in."

The younger doctor saluted William half-jokingly, and trotted off to tend his own patients.

"Maybe you don't need me then." He offered half hopefully even as he saw still more refugees in need of care.

William shook his head, heading towards the entrance. "There's never too many helping hands, Luka. Come on."

He hesitated a moment, a fleeting thought of just walking away entering his mind and then disappearing before he could act on it, before, with a sigh, he followed.

Inside the mess tent, it was chaos, although dying down. Tables were overturned along with chairs, and food was discarded. Several people were being tended to by gaggles of doctors, most with little more than bruises and cuts.

He stopped just inside the entrance, his eyes taking in the scene as he once again fought the urge to flee.

The noise was composed of moans from the injured and the shouts of medical personnel to their aides, for bandages, blood, and the like. Several volunteers had started picking up the chairs and tables, righting everything, and all uninjured people were being rounded up, and escorted out the door even as some continued to protest.

He couldn't help tensing as one of the military worked his way to the door, the memory of the earlier interrogation still too fresh in his thoughts.

William gestured him forward, stopping to borrow two sets of latex gloves from one of the equipped aides, and held out a pair to Luka. "Looks like cleanup work...which is good work," he said, mildly. His eyes scanned the room a moment.

Drawing a centering breath Luka started forward, then paused, shifting his weight to free a hand before taking the gloves.

William snapped on his own gloves, his eyes still taking in the scene, then he tensed.

He pulled the gloves on before looking back to William, only then catching the change in the man and he immediately followed his line of sight to see what had caused it.

Without a word, William started across the room, and the point of his interest became clear. Claire was sitting on the ground, being helped into the sitting position by another volunteer. The bruise on her forehead had been reinjured, and was bleeding profusely now.

As William started over he followed, still not sure what he was going to do. His pace was a bit slower then the older man's as he maneuvered the crutches around chairs, abandoned dishes, and cups.

She swiped at it ineffectually with her sleeve. As they neared her, she looked up, and oddly, her expression seemed more chagrined than pleased. "Poppa," she said with a sigh, and her eyes flicked to Luka, coming up behind him. "Figures they would call you here."

As she spoke he stopped, shifting his eyes away as if to give her a moment of privacy even among the crowd. He let his gaze move over those around them, accessing the extent of injuries without even thinking about it.

William knelt, his fingers probing the cut with a professional air. "Now, you're going to need stitches, Claire." His voice was somewhat relieved, and Luka would realize he had envisioned something much worse happening. "You do have a real penchant for trouble, you know."

He returned his attention to William a moment as he spoke, leaning on the crutches as he waited.

Her voice and eyes were suddenly angry. "I know no such thing." She pushed his hand away. "They certainly didn't need to make you come here just for me." She started to scramble to her feet, still irritated, but when she put her weight on her legs, she yelped, falling back again.

He had let his attention wander again, the sound of one of the unfinished arguments drawing him to it, but at Claire's cry of pain he returned it to them.

William kept a steadying hand on her left arm as she sat back down, hard. "Leg?" he inquired.

Claire shook her head, although her eyes were still closed tightly. "Ankle," she said through gritted teeth.

Luka remained standing behind them, forcing his attention to remain on the two instead of those around them.

William shifted his fingers to the ankle, pulling her shoe and sock off and setting them aside. Manipulating the bones, which made her whole body tense, he said, "It's broken, Claire. See? Right there."

Claire nodded. "I'll take your word for it," she managed, dryly, though her jaw was set against the pain.

With the announcement Luka glanced around, seeing who was available to help her father get her to the clinic.

William left the ankle alone, then glanced around the room, at the other injuries awaiting. "I've got a few bleeders, Claire. I'll be right back. Luka, take my pen light, I'll borrow another." He took the small light from his pocket and handed it over.

"What for?" Even as he asked though he moved closer to comply.

"Head injuries. To assess properly for concussion, best way is to check the pupils." William pressed the pen light into his hand. "Can you do stitches? I can get you a chair, send them to you."

He started to protest, then glanced around only to offer a resigned sigh before nodding.

"Yeah."

"Good. Claire?" He half turned to his daughter.

She waved him off. "I'm fine. Go to it."

William righted a chair by Luka so he could sit, and then set one opposite him, for patients.

Moving over to the chair he eased himself down to it, then offered the crutches to Claire. "You want these?"

She looked up at his, brushing matted hair from her face. "In a few, I think I'm going to stay here a few minutes." She drew her leg in a little more, trying to find a somewhat painless spot for her ankle.

He registered the blood as she moved her hair. "Do you have a headache, or blurring?"

William brought over a suture kit, with a small packet of individually sealed needles, so he could get started. "Sending the first your way in a minute, Luka."

She flicked her eyes to her father a moment as he came and went, then registered Luka's question. "Hmm?"

He shifted his glance to William as he appeared. "Ok.." Then returned his attention to Claire. "Is your vision blurry, or funny to you?

She looked around experimentally. "I don't think so, my eye hurts, but I think I just got something in it."

"Can you move a little closer so I can look?" He shifted his leg, mindful of the splint before turning more to her.

Painfully, she scooted forward but stayed on the ground, at least closer to his chair.

Leaning down he flicked the light on, studying each eye in turn.

She winced at the light, her pupils reacting accordingly, although her left eye seemed sluggish, and was redder than the other.

As he switched it off he lay it on the table then carefully felt along her scalp and around the wound with his fingers.

She tensed up, expecting pain, but she didn't protest it.

"You want to call your Father or should I?"

"For what?"

I can't be sure without an x-Ray, but I'm thinking you have a concussion."

Claire frowned, putting her own fingers up to press at the wound. "The x-ray machine isn't working, I don't think."

"Don't play with it."

She gave him a mock glare, but put her fingers down as instructed.

"You could use a couple stitches."

She sighed. "Probably, hurts like hell."

"It can wait for your Father to do it." He reached across the table to pick up some gauze and handed it to her. "Hold this on it for a few minutes. You need to stay awake though so if you feel sleepy you need to say something."

Claire took the gauze, gently pressing it to her head, and simply nodded, silently.

A tall man, with the look of another refugee, came over to the free chair. "Dr. Lu-ka..?" he said, unsure. His lower lip was split, badly.

As he heard his name Luka turned.<Croatian>"Have a seat..."

The man nodded, with a little relief, and sank into the chair, his large frame almost too big for it.

Without thinking he mentally shifted to the mode of one who had dealt with far too many injuries, and as he first assessed then dealt with the injuries he offered equal parts information and reassurance in Croatian.

The man relaxed under the care, absorbing the conversation like a sponge, or like one who hadn't been able to talk to a countryman very much before now.

<Croatian>"You should go to the clinic in a week to have the stitches taken out." He cut the thread as he finished.

Another was already waiting behind the chair, a shorter man, who seemed to have a rather long gash along his forearm. The taller of the two rose from the seat, thanking Luka and assuring him he'd return to the clinic.

"Molim."

The shorter one, much more silent and reserved, took the vacated seat, and regarded Luka somewhat suspiciously.

He moved the used materials away as he readied for the next, when the man sat he offered a slight nod before explaining in Croatian what he intended to do.

The man's suspicion lessened somewhat upon hearing the Croatian, but he still said nothing as he held out his arm. Once or twice, he looked at Claire where she remained on the ground.

As he threaded a new needle he glanced to Claire, and when he spoke his words remained in Croatian without thought. "How are you doing? Claire, how are you doing, any worse?" He shifted to English when she didn't immediately respond.

She was watching him work, her arms crossed over her upraised knee, and she hadn't seemed to hear the first question. When he repeated it, she looked up at his eyes, her own slightly dull but still alert. "The same. You are very good at that, you know."

He half snorted, brushing the compliment off before returning his attention to the man, once more slipping into his native language as he explained what he was going to do.

The man had frowned at the use of English, and seemed distrustful of Claire being there, but he continued to hold his arm out.

He lowered his voice slightly so his words were for the man alone as he caught his look at Claire<Croatian>"She's very bossy usually, you're lucky."

The man quickly shot his gaze to Luka again, as if he were trying to gauge the tone of the words. After a moment, he managed a half-smile, and nodded, very small.

Snipping the thread he covered the stitches and taped it. "All finished, go to the clinic in a week to have them taken out."

Very low, he said, in Croatian, "Don't like Americans. All Americans there." He regarded his stitches curiously.

"Dr Forquet is French." He kept his words in Croatian as well.

The man made a dismissive gesture with his other hand, as if it were all the same to him.

He eyed the man a moment as if mentally making a decision before he spoke again. "Find me then."

The man looked up at him, tilting his head a little as he regarded Luka skeptically. "You'll take them out?"

He simply nodded.

The man looked pleased. "She's not going to be there?" He didn't even look at Claire, knowing Luka would guess who he meant.

"I can't promise that.."

The man snorted, irritated, looking back down at his stitches.

He drew a breath again. "Her Father is treating me, she might be there." He motioned to his splinted leg.

The man ran his fingers near the closed wound, with only a cursory glance at the leg. "I know she's one of them, the volunteers. She tried to stop the fight. Don't want her treating me." His words were mild, with no anger to them.

"She's not a doctor."

The man shrugged. "Half of them aren't. Don't stop 'em."

"Find me, I'll do it."

The man looked back up, his eyes cool. "All right. A week?"

He nodded.

The shorter man rose from the seat, dropping his arm to his side, with a nod of farewell, and walked away.

He tended the several more waiting in much the same manner, explaining and reassuring as needed, his voice patient and his actions practiced.

Most looked shocked, some still angry, speaking out about the brawl that had started, seemingly, from the frustration at being cooped up.

As he motioned the last off he moved the soiled materials aside and looked back to Claire. "Any change?" Realizing he had spoke in Croatian he slid back into English."Sorry."

She was holding the gauze in her hand, not on the wound, seemingly having forgotten about the bleeding on her head. She had been watching him work, and looked a little fatigued now, as well as the black eye from before worsening a little.

He glanced around the tent for William, as he looked back to her he frowned slightly. "That was for your head."

William and one other doctor were working on what looked like a minor stab wound, as others brought by a stretcher for the man.

She looked up, blankly. "What was?" Her eyes went to the gauze, and she looked sheepish. "Oh. Right." Obediently, she pressed it back to her head.

"Looks like he is almost done."

She nodded. "My arm got tired," she said, by way of explanation.

He pulled the gloves off and piled them on the other garbage before rolling his shoulders slightly.

She smiled. "Dr. Luka."

"Was going to be." He offered the words quietly before massaging his thigh a bit.

"Looks like you are," she offered. She set her arm down again, giving up on the gauze.

He shifted his eyes to her, "Not without finishing and there's no way I can do that now."

She blinked, rubbing at her eye absently. "I'm sure there is a way you can."

The room was being set to rights by other volunteers, almost clear now of the injured parties.

"I can't afford to go to school..not and try and pay for a place to live..it's just another thing that died with my family." His voice grew quiet as he spoke.

She watched him, quietly, then said, "Are there any long bandages in there, by the way? I need to set my ankle."

"Let your Father do it, he should be here in a few minutes.." He glanced over to where William was.

"I can do it," she insisted.

"Just wait for him."

She set the gauze aside, displeased. "Why?"

He looked at her then reached for the crutches to pull himself upright. As he stood he gave into a short coughing burst from the exertion before speaking. "I'll go get him."

"Luka," she protested, "I really can do it, if you would just hand me the things I need..."

He moved over to William, explaining what he thought was up without glancing back to her.

William left the side of the stretcher, with a few parting instructions to the other doctor as they left, and pulled off his gloves with a snap, listening to Luka. He moved over to where Claire was sitting, her shoulders slumped, and he knelt. "Claire, look up at me, okay?"

As he finished he rubbed his eye, the fatigue at the walk and then the work catching up with him. When William moved to Claire he followed.

She lifted her eyes up, and William took his own light, shining it in and out of her right eye, his other hand under her chin to hold it steady.

He stayed back slightly though he watched his actions..taking mental notes at his technique.

He slid his hand up to feel the bone around the wound, his expression serious, even as Claire sighed with relief that the light was gone.

"What did you do? Feels like a straight laceration," he said, holding up his finger in front of her face. "Follow my finger, please."

He shifted the crutches under his armpits, easing all the weight off his injured leg with the action.

Her eyes tracked it back and forth, a little slowly. "I got knocked over, and the table hit me in the head."

He nodded, then asked, "How did Luka do?" His tone was amused.

Claire smiled, weakly. "Good."

William glanced back at the man a moment, then back to Claire. "I knew he would. Now, unfortunately for you, it seems as if you managed to get hit in the same spot two days in a row. I think you've damaged your oculomotor nerve, though not too badly. The one by your right eye."

As they talked Luka let his head drop slightly, not really listening, his own weariness catching up with him.

Claire nodded, wearily. "I need to set my ankle," she said.

He coughed again as he stood there, then lifted his eyes to Claire and William.

"I can do it," William said, preferring not to argue with her. He reached around the chair to draw out the long bandages, and looked up at Luka. "How are you holding up?"

"Take care of her." He brushed the concern off though his voice showed the wear of the added talking in it's tone.

William straightened out her leg and started to wrap the ankle tightly, and Claire didn't have the energy to protest, even in pain. "This shouldn't take long, then I think you both need to get back to the tent, and rest."

He nodded, even as he continued to watch, for once he might even agree with the man.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 18/38

by JD and Mel

Luka had grown almost silent on the walk back to the Northstar's tent, retreating deep inside himself again, his breathing coming a little harsher by the time they finally reached the tent.

William opened it for them, letting both stagger through and retreat to opposite cots.

Instead of fully entering Luka found himself hesitating as he came even with the elder doctor. "Maybe I should go back to the clinic, you have enough to do with Claire now." He followed the words with a deep cough as he attempted to clear his lungs.

Claire sank into her father's cot, only having the energy to lay the crutches on the floor before she laid down.

William shook his head, shooing him in with a hand gesture. "I'm not moving the oxygen tank yet, and I don't like shifting people before I have to,"

"I can get by without it." His argument was made even less convincing by the even deeper cough that followed it.

He moved over and turned the power on to the tank, before picking up Claire's discarded crutches. "We're going to use it while it's here, Luka."

He hesitated a moment longer..debating the chance at winning the argument, then swept his eyes over the man, trying to read him from his body language.

Claire started to curl up on the cot, drawing her knees up, but William patted her shoulder as he went by. "Don't fall asleep yet, ageyutsa." He glanced over at Luka, with a patient look. "You can't stand in the doorway all day, Luka. I might need that door."

He released another pent up cough and gave up the battle, making his way back to the cot as it eased. Using the crutches to support him he lowered himself to sit on the side then lay them down before bending over to untie his shoes and slide them off.

William moved over, getting the oxygen tubing ready and moving to place it around his neck.

He raised his eyes to William as the man settled the oxygen again, then lifted his splinted leg onto the bed with his hands before drawing the other up. Too tired to even undress, he accepted his defeat and lay back.

"There, that's settled for now." He adjusted the flow, looking over the dials. "How did you like your first try at field doctoring?"

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed."I don't think I can do this."

William looked at him, curious. "Why not?"

He shook his head, then slid his hand in his pocket to confirm the picture was there. "I can't." He paused for a second before answering. "I can't be there the way they want someone to be there for them."

"You seemed to do well enough today."

He fingered the photo, his hand still in his pocket. "I sewed some stitches, nothing more then that."

William moved over to Claire's bedside, pulling up his stool. "Sometimes, that is all they need. Someone to get them back on their feet." At his gesture, Claire pulled herself sluggishly to a sitting position, and William took out his penlight again.

"They need someone who can give them a reason to do that, I'm not that person." His voice grew quieter before he withdrew the picture and turned onto his side before laying his head on his arm as he looked at it.

"Luka, to be blunt, I think you are overstating your effect in this case. Most people already have a reason to get back on their feet, they just need a hand. They don't need you to give their life purpose. They just want you to save it." William peered into Claire's eyes, first her left than her right. "Can you close just your right eye for me?" he asked, mildly. Claire had to blink a little, but with some squinting she was able to close the eye as asked. William held up his penlight, off now, about a foot away from her. "Can you focus on this?"

He pulled his eyes from the picture long enough for him to look at William as he spoke, then dropped them again, not quite ready to accept the truth in his words.

Claire cleared her throat. "No."

William made a hmm sound, his lips pressed together thoughtfully, and used his fingers again to probe the gash hidden by her hair. "It seemed to me that those people you helped today, Luka, needed you just to do something they couldn't do for themselves. It's not always saving the soul you need to worry about." William pulled his bag closer, rifling through it for supplies. He brought out a large bottle of hydrogen peroxide, several gauze pads, and a suture kit.

Luka lifted his eyes again, then coughed as a prelude to speaking. "Why does it have to be me? Why does it matter so much to you what I do?"

"Alright, Claire, the best way to do this is have you sit on the floor, here in front of the cot." As she scooted over and onto the floor, stretching her leg out, William looked up at Luka. "Because I don't wish to waste your talents, not when your hands could be the important ones in someone else's life."

He gave another glance to the picture and then slid it back in his pocket, almost as if he could prevent those in it from seeing more then he wanted them to see. "What talent, my talent to kill people?" His words came off harsh...and he lifted his hand to rub his face as he released them.

He stretched on a fresh pair of latex gloves, then carefully parted Claire's hair around the gash, pulling at individual strands where they were stuck. Claire closed her eyes, wearily, seemingly unaware of Luka's words, but William glanced up. "I'm sorry?"

"Nothing, I'm tired." He rolled to his back, then shifted enough that he could almost turn away from them before closing his eyes, hoping to escape any further discussion in sleep.

Instead of William, it was Claire's voice that broke into the silence, although it sounded slightly slurred. "Did you kill someone, Luka?" she asked.

"My family." He didn't open his eyes or look to either of them as he answered.

William sighed, a little heavily. "You didn't kill them, and you know it, Luka."

He drew a breath, then turned his head and opened his eyes to look at William. "Do I? I didn't save them. I held their lives in my hands and I failed them. I was tired and because of that I stopped breathing for my daughter. I was tired so I gave up on her. They died because of me." He rubbed his hand over his face, embracing what he saw as his own failure before then turning away again.

William looked right back, unflinchingly. "How long, Luka before you gave up?"

"I should have kept going, until someone came." His voice was very quiet.

William continued to work on Claire's gash, his face drawn. "I'm sorry you had to learn your lesson the way you did, and as young as you were, Luka, but to ignore it is worse. You cannot save everyone, no matter how much you might want to. And in the meantime, you are deciding that you're no good to anyone else, and to refuse to help your fellow man in his time of need because of your own perceived failures...that is the last thing anyone should ever do."

He squeezed his eyes shut, the words hitting hard and silencing him for the moment.

William finished cleaning the wound with the antiseptic and the gauze, and peered at the spot again, now more visible.

"Claire, hand me the scissors in my bag, please." It was quiet for a long moment, then William said, "Claire? Wake up, ageyutsa."

He turned fully to his side with a soft groan, jarring his leg with the action. He didn't want to hear anymore, the blame was his, and he wasn't ready to hear let alone believe anything different.

William set aside the bottle of antiseptic and the gauze, rising up off the cot and picking Claire up. He stretched her out on the cot, and shook her shoulder. "Claire, come on, wake up."

Try as he might he found himself unable to block out the sounds around him. As he listened to William try and coax Claire into action, he opened his eyes then turned his head to watch what was happening.

William was sitting on the edge of the cot, leaning over Claire as he slid back each of her eyelids in turn to check her pupils once more, then tested her pulse.

He watched silently, not willing to interrupt his concentration. After a moment more he forced himself to sit, his guilt wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Pulling the oxygen off, he cleared his throat. "Should I go get someone?"

William said no more, but the look on his face was serious and forbidding. "Just a moment." He retrieved a cold pack from the side pocket of his back, crushing it with his hands to activate it, and placed it under Claire's neck.

He was already fishing for his shoes, a cough breaking as he leaned over for them. Once he had found them and slipped them on he reached for his crutches.

William slid his fingers around her neck, placing his thumbs to spots under her chin so he could turn her head either way, checking her ears and the back of her neck for swelling or bruising. After several long minutes he sat back and glanced over at Luka. "I'm going to take Claire over to the clinic, I want you to stay here and put that oxygen back on, you've done enough for one day."

If Luka had meant to protest, the look from the older man silenced him before he could. Releasing an exasperated sigh he slid out of his shoes and pulled his legs back onto the cot before reaching for the nasal tubing.

As if sensing the younger man's worries William offered a smile of reassurance. "If there's any change I'll send someone for you, but right now you need to think about yourself and what you need is sleep."

He was right of course, his leg throbbed and his arms ached from using the crutches, but it didn't make the truth any easier to accept. He would though and in silent protest he refused to give into the need until William and Claire had left the tent.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 19/38

by JD and Mel

Luka had shifted more to his side, giving his knee a rest as he settled into an uneasy sleep disturbed often by coughing, the slow hiss of the oxygen the only other sound breaking the tent's quiet.

Sometime during the night, the other two returned, and now Claire was sleeping in her father's cot, much quieter than Luka was.

As a particularly heavy jag woke him he propped himself up on one arm, as he was waiting for it to pass he was just able to pick out their sleeping forms in the darkness.

William stirred from the chair he was stretched out in, his eyes opening to slits in the dark as the sound roused him. "Luka?"

"Yeah." His voice came out a hoarse croak. "Didn't mean to wake you."

William unfolded himself from the chair, rising to fetch the water pitcher and a cup. "That's quite all right. It may not look that way, but it's close to dawn, and this is when I wake anyway." His voice was low, in the dark.

Luka simply nodded before dropping his head as another cough moved through him harshly.

He poured the water into the cup and offered it. "The cough is always the most persistent thing."

"Thanks."He took it and forced a sip down his raw throat only to cough again forcing him to lower it before it spilled. "How's Claire?"

William's eyes flicked over to where she was sound asleep, her chest rising and falling with slow breath. "She's got a concussion, but it's luckily a small one. I think it was simply aggravated by lack of sleep."

"You have to ..." He searched for the word in English and frowned when it wasn't there then added it in Croatian. "You have to sedate her?" He finished it off in the more comfortable tongue.

"Only a little," William answered, pulling over his stool so he could ease himself onto it. "Need to be careful when sedating a concussive patient, just enough to get her to fall asleep. It should be well out of her system by now."

Luka took note of the information..."Sa..day..te" He whispered the word to himself as William voiced it, then nodded. "I should have remembered that."

William smiled, amused. "You will. Takes a little time for these things to become habit, but you'll learn. You did well, yesterday. I meant to thank you."

He shrugged, giving into yet another coughing run. "I didn't do that much."

"I disagree. You were quick, competent, and made your patients comfortable as you worked. I was very pleased with it all."

He lifted a hand to wipe his eye, not ready to accept that he was good for anything at the moment. "Anyone could have done it."

"No, they could not have. Perhaps a lot of other doctors, yes, but not very many medical students. You have real potential, Luka."

He brushed his hand across his face again in dismissal before still another cough caught him and delayed his response. "Doesn't really matter now anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because it's gone like everything else." He lay back again with a heavy sigh, his hand sliding into his pocket seeking the reassurance that his single remaining possession was still there.

"Not everything is as it seems, Luka. Your potential is not gone. You proved that yesterday." William rubbed at his chin a moment, thinking. "I do need to start my rounds soon, and I need to stop and restock my bag beforehand. "You'll watch Claire for me?"

He flicked his eyes across the tent then back to him before nodding. Yeah."

William smiled. "I wouldn't ask you if I didn't think you were capable, Luka."

"I know." He left unsaid that he hoped he wouldn't fail him like he had his own family though it remained in his eyes.

William nodded, rising from his stool. "I won't be long. But I trust you."

He simply nodded, then propped himself up so he could semi keep an eye on Claire.

The elder man took up his bag, after a last check on his daughter, then slipped his shoes on and walked out of the tent.

Luka found himself watching William until he left then he fully sat up, going so far as to shift so his good leg hung over the side of the bed. If Claire need him he wanted to be ready.

Morning light seeped into the tent, lighting it before she started to stir, tossing a little on the cot.

As he heard her he moved his other leg, getting both feet on the floor before he pulled the oxygen line off. He suffered through still another burst of coughing he before reaching for his crutches in anticipation of rising.

She opened her eyes, blinking in the light, then raised her handto her head to block it out a moment.

"I'll get it." He used the crutches to push himself to his feet then after tucking them under his arms moved over to turn the oxygen flow off before going to draw the tent flap closed.

Claire managed to open her eyes enough to see him. "Hmm? Oh." She let her head fall back on the pillow. "Thank you." Her voice was thick with the sleep.

"That's okay." He coughed a couple times to clear his throat then made his way back across the tent. "You need anything?"

She moved her arm off her face so she could make an effort to get up. "Are you taking care of me now?" Her tone was teasing.

"Your Father had to go out, said he wouldn't be long." He was surprisingly fully dressed though a closer look showed the wrinkles of his clothes having been slept in.

She waved her hand a little, dismissively. "It's okay....I'll be fine." She made herself sit up, swinging her legs over the side. "I think."

"Take it slow, your father said you have a concussion." He reached the bed and eased himself back down on it before propping the crutches beside him.

She sighed. "Do I?" She rubbed at her eyes. "My mouth feels like I've been swallowing cotton."

"Oh..sorry." He forced himself back up, pouring water into the cup and then biting his lip as he maneuvered back to her while trying not to spill it. "Here, drink this." He carefully handed the cup to her.

She looked up, aghast. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you get up." She took the cup quickly, so he could hold the crutches again. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, you want anything else?"

"I want you to sit back down, please," she said, half-joking.

He straightened up and pivoted around so he could move back to the cot, then lowered himself to it again. As he leaned the crutches on the side of it he stretched the
braced leg out in front of him.

She took a sip from the cup, closing her eyes a moment as she swirled the water in her mouth. Reopening them, she took a longer drink, then carefully scooted to the end of the cot, by the locker on the floor, obviously not trusting herself to walk yet "How is your--" She stopped, coughing to clear her throat. "your leg?"

"Side effect of the....said...seda..tive." He stumbled a bit with the English.

"Yea.." She pushed her hair back, messy from sleep. "Hopefully won't last long."

"My leg's not bad, but, I'll be glad to get your Father's splint off."

She smiled, as she leaned over, rummaging in the locker til she found a small bottle of pills. Holding it up so she could read the label, she said, "It would be nice to walk normally again, I bet." She gestured to her own wrapped ankle, the pills in the bottle
rattling. "I'm stuck too."

"Yeah." He eyed the bottle. "What are those?"

"I'm praying they are painkillers," she admitted, rubbing her eyes and looking again.

"You can't take them, not without your Father's okay. Can't hide the symptoms because of the concussion." He extended a hand to have her toss the bottle.

She looked up at him, blinking. "It's just an analgesic."

"Not unless he says, give them." He kept his hand outstretched.

She watched him for a moment, surprised at his suddenly decisive manner, and then meekly tossed them over, her shoulders slumping.

He leaned slightly to make the catch then sat the bottle on the small table by his cot.

"He won't be long."

Sighing, she finished off the water and set the cup down, then laid back on the cot again. "Very well." She brought her hand up to her head to rub it, and winced whenshe encountered the stitches.

He wet his lips as he debated something with himself then spoke again. "I'll let you have a question to distract you."

Briefly, she muttered, "It had better be a good question to distract me from this headache." She turned her eyes to him, hers tired but amused, then saw that his expression was serious. Quietly, she said, "If we play that again, it means you get to ask me a question too."

He fingered the corner of his eye then shifted his attention to her as he let the hand drop.

"We don't have to, this is to distract you."

She let out a breath, trying to make her hands rest on top of her stomach instead of playing with the stitches. Her feet hung over the end since she hadn't moved all the way up to the pillow. "Hardly seems fair."

"My choice." He dropped his eyes for a moment to a fray on the jeans, then after picking at it lifted them to her again.

She settled for rubbing the bridge of her nose, a diversionary tactic. "Alright." She paused, thinking. "How did you pick your children's names?"

He wet his lips with the question,then drew a breath. "Danijela, my wife, she picked Jasna, he liked the way it sounded. Marko was named after one of my Uncle's, to honor him."

She nodded, her eyes fluttering a little, but she put her hand back on her stomach. "Your uncle? Did he pass away?"

He nodded. "When I was a boy, I remember he would come to my Grandfather's farm, and he would make my Grandfather angry by putting us on the cows." He smiled slightly with the memory.

"Like....riding them? Like horses?"

"More like sitting on them until we fell off."

She smiled, and her eyes closed all the way. "Did you fall off alot?"

"He would leave us there, he thought it was funny, and so did we until we did fall off."

"He did it every time though and we let him because it was a big joke to my Grandfather."

She giggled, quietly. "Falling off cows, did they get upset? The cows, I mean."

He shook his head. "Only if we tried to make them go by kicking them."

"Did they go anywhere?"

"Not usually, cows are very..." He searched for the word,

"stubborn."

"I've heard that." She fell silent again for several moments.

He scooted back on the cot and pulled the splinted leg up..then stretched back. "You can ask something else." He made the offer quietly.

She barely stirred, then she said, "Do you like to ride horses?"

"When I was a kid I did...been a longtime."

"Did you like it?"

"Better then cows." The answer came innocently.

She laughed, and then promptly winced, putting her hands to her head. "Bastard, you made me laugh."

His smile deepened then faded. "Sorry."

"And if you tell my father that I use language like that, you'll be sorry." She smiled, making her words a tease.

He glanced over to her. "You said a bad word? You mean I should not call your Father this?" He allowed his accent to thicken with the mock naivety.

Her eyes flew open, and she turned on the cot to stare at him. "Dear god, no."

"Bastard." He repeated the word, his accent flowering it slightly.

"Oh...you're teasing me." She laid back down with a groan. "I swear, I don't remember being so mean to you as to deserve this.."

"I am being very nice to you."

"You took away the painkillers," she pointed out, almost pouting.

"You have a concussion."

"Yes, yes." She pursed her lips a moment, trying to keep from rubbing her head. "I like the way you say 'bastard.' Sounds funny."

He caught her action and forced himself to sit up, then pulled his leg off the bed before reaching for the crutches and standing, once up he found a towel and soaked it with water before carrying it to her. "For your head." He balanced the crutches under his armpits as he folded it and handed it over.

She opened her eyes, hearing him move, and seemed surprised to see him standing by her cot. Rising onto her elbows, she took it and laid it on her head. With a sigh, she laid back down. "I take it all back, you are being very nice."

While up he picked the cup up and carried it back to refill then brought it back as well.

"Here's some more water too." Once done he made his way back to his cot and eased himself down on it.

Propping herself back up, she took the cup, removing the towel for a moment so she could drink deeply. Then she set the cup aside, and laid back down with the cool towel in place. "Thank you."

"Yeah." He watched her a moment more then lifted his leg back on the cot again, and leaned back.

Claire rested her arm across her forehead, over the towel, gingerly. "I feel like I'm riding a horse right now," she said, low. "Or else the whole tent is moving."

He pushed himself up on his arm as she spoke, then looked over at her. "Dizzy? Are you sick to your stomach?" Even as he asked he was shifting the leg back to the floor and reaching for his crutches. He gave into a couple deep coughs before forcing himself to his feet again, as he saw the penlight on the table he made his way over to it.

"Yea, some." She shifted on the cot, keeping her arm over her head. "Not that much, just a little."

Once he had picked it up he walked over to her and lowered himself to where he could sit on the edge of the cot beside her. "Take your arm down and let me look at your eyes."

With the request he set the crutches aside and flicked the light on.

Obediently, she slid her arm to her side, pushing the cloth off her head to expose her eyes.

He shined it first in one then the other, comparing the contraction rate then moved it to her right eye. "Follow the light.." He shifted it up, then down, then side to side. As he moved it to the other eye he frowned slightly as he repeated the actions..noting the difference.

She blinked a little at the light, but did her best to follow his instructions. "Okay, this is really not helping the dizzy factor." Switching it off he reached for the crutches and pushed himself to his feet again..pausing as he searched for something then making his way over to a small bucket which he then carried back and sat beside her cot. "It's probably because of the concussion, but if you feel sick I'll put this here."

She pushed the towel back into place. "I can't throw up in front of cute medical students," she teased, although her voice was pained.

"Then you're in luck because there are none here." His reply came dryly before he moved back to his cot.

"Yea, maybe you aren't that cute," she agreed.

He let the comment go unanswered as he settled once more on the narrow cot.

"But you're sure acting like a med student."

"I told your father I would look after you."

She sighed, placing her other hand over her stomach again. "Well, I'm glad you're acting like a doctor," she said, quietly. "And not just keeping me company."

"Anyone could do what I'm doing, it's no big thing." He sat up enough to lean forward and lift his splinted leg over, then lay back again.

"Damn you." She said it very low, before she turned onto her side, facing away from him, her shoulders hunched.

If he heard her he said nothing, though he did catch her movement, and for a moment longer he left his eyes on her back as if waiting to see if she said more.

Her voice was muffled. "You could have just said 'your're welcome'." She moved her arm back over her head.

He released a sigh with her words and shifted to his side as well, resting his head on his arm before withdrawing the picture from his pocket and settling his eyes on it.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 20/38

by JD and Mel

Claire had apparently fallen asleep, as she was silent so long, and an hour passed. The tent flap moved, quietly, and William stepped in, his hair a little windblown, and he was squinting in the change in light. With the rustle of the flap as it opened, Luka glanced up. Seeing William, he slipped the picture he still held in his hand, back in his pocket. The older man's eyes went immediately to Claire, then to Luka, and he stepped all the way inside, letting the flap fall back down. "Still asleep?" he mouthed, gesturing to his daughter.

"She was awake, said she was dizzy. Her one eye is slow to the light, too." He kept his voice low so as not to wake Claire as he updated her father.

William nodded, and stooped over Claire's form, moving her hair out of the way a moment so he could see her face. He touched her cheek, which she didn't respond to. "Did she say she was in a lot of pain?" he asked, curiously.

"Some.." Luka reached for the bottle of pills and held them up. "She wanted to take these, I thought she should wait for you to okay it." As he spoke he forced himself to sit back up, then eased his braced leg off the cot again.

William straightened, rubbing his index finger and thumb together. "She's been crying," he observed, before taking the bottle and checking the label. "Yes, I'd like to keep any drug interactions to a minimun."

"I didn't know, I should have had someone go find you." He mentally chastized himself for not doing just that.

William shook his head. "Sounds like you did just fine. You checked her eyes and all....that, plus she awoke on her own. All good signs." He set the bottle aside. "How are you feeling?"

"My knee is throbbing, but I can handle it."

"Are you sure?" William smiled, touching the bottle with his fingers. "You can take a few of these, if you want. No more than two, however."

Luka waved his offer off with a shake of his head. "Better save them for someone who really needs them."

"You may be that person," he pointed out, pulling his stool over. "Still coughing?"

He nodded. "Some."

"Here, let me see the leg, about time for some rewrapping, considering movement and all."

He eyed first William, then Claire before reluctantly pushing himself to his feet, keeping his weight on his good leg as he unfastened the belt, then his jeans. After easing them down, he sat again, pulling the thin blanket across his lap once he was settled. William helped him when necessary, as Luka braced his hands on the cot, then drew his lower lip between his teeth in anticipation of uncovering the pained knee.

William slid his fingers under the wrappings and started to unwind them around. "Is the movement any less stiff now?"

"Hard to tell with the splint, I just know the knee is hurting. Just thought it was from all the walking and everything."

William removed the two makeshift boards, setting them aside. After all that time bandaged, they were bent a little outwards. Setting them aside, he took off the remainder of the wrappings until it was completely exposed. Luka let his eyes drop to the knee, regarding it critically as he waited for the man to comment on it. William placed his fingers on either side of the knee, testing the ligaments. "What do you think?" he asked.

There was a quick intake of air with the initial touch, even though he thought he was ready for it, and then through clenched teeth he offered, "Not so bad."

William smiled. "Your face doesn't say that." He took Luka's hand and placed the fingers on either side of the knee. "Here, feel for the ends of the ligaments. Then feel for the knotty tissue where they were originally attached. See how there is growth there?"

He swiped his tongue across his lips, then watched and did as asked. "Yeah."

"You can tell when something needs surgical help on joints by learning the feel of these ligaments, and the cartilage around them."

"It'll be okay?" Despite efforts to conceal it, his voice betrayed him, wavering slightly with residual fear as he questioned the man.

William nodded. "It's already reattaching, and as far as I can tell, no more than a few centimeters from the original site. Now, to speed the new growth, that's why we keep it wrapped so tightly, and restrict movement." Luka nodded, wincing slightly as he fingered the knee himself, trying to note the differences that were being pointed out to him. William drew two new flat sticks from his bag. "You should practice on yourself like that....gives you a real feel for it."

"The swelling still looks pretty bad." Luka couldn't overlook the fact that one knee was almost double the size of the other.

William shook his head. "It's misleading. You see, a knee is almost all bone...not much around it but the ligaments. All swelling looks bad on the knee. The same swelling you wouldn't notice as much say, on an arm, maybe a shoulder."

He offered a nod of understanding even though he was having his own doubts. "Okay."

"Ready for rewrap?"

Luka drew a breath, then took hold of the edge of the cot. His hands tensed slightly for the anticipated pain. "Yeah."

"Do you want to try doing it?" William chuckled. "I don't usually encourage self-treating, but you are a student.."

"I guess." He released the his hold on the cot with the acceptance.

"Come now, Luka, show some enthusiam. Not often you get to see a good ligament tear out here." His face was serious, but his eyes twinkled. Luka raised his eyes to the older man, not quite sure how to take the teasing, and William added, "Take your lessons where you can find them, Luka. Remember that."

"Yeah." He took the offered bandage and drew a breath before beginning to wrap the knee again.

"Wait, wait." He held out the two sticks. "Make sure these anchor it."

"Right, I forgot." He set the loose end aside and tucked one of the sticks between the layers only to repeat the action with the second. He drew a slight breath with the added pressure but didn't seem to be cutting himself any slack on the tightness of his wrapping despite it.

"Slowly, make sure it has room to circulate, and let the swelling ease.."

He nodded, loosening the last couple rounds before finishing.

"There, now, test the give with your fingers."

Luka lifted his eyes from his task to the elder doctor, looking a little puzzled. "Give?"

William slid his fingers barely under the wrap. "Pull on it, see if it moves. If it gives. See?"

"Oh, okay."

"We're going to change the dressings on the bullet wound next."

"All right." He swallowed then eased himself back onto the cot, stretching the leg out flat on it.

"I want your help on this one too." William unwrapped the bandage a little faster on this one. Luka complied silently, aware of how it had looked only a few days earlier. William leaned forward, peering at it a little. Casually, he took a pair of gloves from his bag, and handed one of the two to Luka. Then he slipped the other one on his own right hand. The younger man took the glove, not sure what he had in mind, then pulled it on. "Alright now, with an entry wound--" William started, before he was interrupted by a faint moan from the other cot.

At the sound Luka shifted his attention to Claire, then back to William. "See to her." Even as he spoke, he reached for the blanket to cover himself modestly.

William nodded. "Don't rewrap that yet." He rose and went to the other cot, as Claire rolled over onto her back.

Luka nodded, though he did drape a piece of the bandage on the wound to shield it from the blanket contact.

William perched on the edge of her cot, as she started to sit up, blinking. "Hang on there," he murmured, pushing her back down. "Let me look at you."

"Poppa?" she asked, her voice rough.

With William to the other side of the tent, Luka lay back, closing his eyes with a sigh as he gave in slightly to the pain he had been trying to avoid acknowledging.

"How is your head?"

Claire groaned. "It feels like someone was beating on me as I slept, sure it wasn't one of you two?"

"I prefer to wait until you are awake to pick on you, thank you very much," William said, archly. "Open your eyes." Luka did the same as Claire was ordered to, opening his eyes as he turned slightly to his side to watch them. He managed no more than a muted groan to mark the effort. William gently put his fingers under her chin, tilting her head back as he looked into her eyes critically. Her lips tightened automatically, but she let him check, even following his finger when he asked with her eyes.

Releasing a cough before speaking, Luka propped himself up on his elbow to ease it. "Any change?"

"Some," William said, slowly. He moved his hand to test the bruise on her forehead. She closed her eyes tightly as he touched it. "Good, seems like any internal swelling has started to ease." Leaning over the side of his own cot, Luka snagged the discarded jeans from the floor. William diverted his eyes a moment, catching the action from the corner of his eye. "Hey, I'm not done with you yet." He smiled at Luka.

"I know." He fished his picture from the pocket, then sat up enough to toss his jeans to the foot of the cot before leaning back on one arm again.

Claire reopened her eyes. "Can I please have something for my head now?"

William sighed, leaning back. "Any dizziness?"

She started to shake her head, then stopped. "..No."

"Any nausea?" William continued to question his daughter as he worked.

She started to sit up, watching to see if he'd stop her. "No."

"Hmm." William rubbed at his jaw with his ungloved hand, then said, "What do you think, Luka?"

"She said she was earlier." He pointed to the bucket by the bed.

"True, let's give it a few hours, Claire," William said, trying to be sympathetic. She sighed, her shoulders slumping, as she rubbed her head with her hand. "Alright, back to wound number two," he said, almost cheerfully, scooting his stool over to Luka's cot. "Between the two of you, I'm getting a lot of work," he added.

Luka lay back himself, only to start coughing with the position then forced himself back to the semi-upright compromise. It seemed as if he could never get comfortable. "I can go back to the medical tent, you have enough to worry about here."

"Is that what you want?" William asked, testing his glove again and leaning over the cot. "It shouldn't be about Claire, she's going to be fine, I think." He gave his daughter a smile.

"I don't want to make anymore work for you."

William made a tsking noise. "So you'll make me walk all the way to the medical tent? Not very nice for one of my assistants. Let's see that leg." Obediently, Luka rolled back onto his back, and pulled the blanket aside, a cough immediately following the action as he was once more flat on his back, like clockwork. William leaned forward, examining the edges. "Do you mind if Claire sees it as well?"

He boosted himself up on his elbows to watch, easing his breathing before answering.

"No." Modesty accompanied his permission and he arranged the blanket so it would cover a bit more skin as he agreed.

"Claire." William said it like an order. She rose from the cot, pushing her hair back. Carefully, she sat on the edge of his cot, using her hands to steady herself. "What do you see here?" he said, his gloved fingers pressing at the wound. Luka drew a breath in with the pressure despite the effort not to. She had to blink a few times to clear her vision, then narrowed her eyes to focus them. "Exit bullet wound," she said, her voice rusty. She cleared it after a moment.

"Luka? What would you look for in a wound like this?"

He wet his lips, the flicking of his eyes an indication of his searching for a word. When he didn't find it he offered "infekcija" in Croatian before switching back to English. "If the wound wasn't kept clean, or ulomci," he shifted momentarily to Croatian again, "were left behind."

William nodded. "You have to check for infection, yes, and if any pieces were left. But largely in a bullet or knife wound, there won't be. A shrapnel wound, yes." He carefully set his fingers at the puckered edges and pressed, lightly. "But an infection isn't always visible. You need to learn how to feel for things like tissue degeneration, or too soft flesh underneath."

The gasp was unavoidable, as was the tensing of his muscle at the man's touch. Claire lifted her eyes to Luka's face. "Poppa, careful," she murmured.

"It's okay." Luka drew a couple deeper breaths then nodded for William to go on even as his voice betrayed him. His compromise to himself was a tightening of his hands in the bedding where they might not notice.

"See how the thigh muscles tense? That's good, it means they have not been compromised by the wound." Claire dropped her eyes again to the wound as William spoke. "Now, as long as there is no bleeding, and no infection, the tissues will knit just fine in time."

Further instruction was interupted as there was a rustling at the tent door, and William turned to look.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 21/38

by JD and Mel

"Dr. Northstar?"

Luka eased his grip, enabling him to draw the blanket fully over himself as William turned to the door at the sound of his name. Another older doctor, this one English, poked his head in the door when William gave his assent. "I could use your help just a mite...have a few difficult cases coming in. Do you have the time to spare?"

William rose, pulling off the glove. "Claire, why don't you help Luka rewrap that?"

Luka kept his eyes on the stranger a moment longer..not sure how he would react to his presence in the Northstar's tent.

The other doctor smiled, toothily. "Thanks, I appreicate it. I'll have him back in a jiff," he said, throwing off a quick salute to Claire and Luka.

Claire didn't react, just staying where she was on the edge of the cot.

"If you can get me the bandages I can wrap it."

William eyed them both before stepping out. As silence fell over the tent, Claire bent down and retrieved the bandages from William's bags. "Did he check the entry site?" she asked, almost listlessly.

He was already sitting up and exposing the leg again as she moved away. "No, it's probably okay though."

"Probably doesn't work in medicine, Luka. Let me see it."

He released an exasperated sigh and reluctantly turned away from her, revealing the back of his leg before he fixed his eyes on a random stain on the tent wall in front of him.

She took another pair of the latex gloves from her father's bag and pulled them on, almost like a habit, then tested the entry wound with her fingertips. Her touch was very careful, more hesitant than her father's. Her forehead felt hot, so she paused to wipe it with her forearm.

He bit his lip at the touch and the muscle tensed, but he made no sound with it.

"It does seem to be fine," she said, absently. "None of the looseness you can feel in a lot of entry wounds."

"Was worse before, you can go lay down, I can wrap it myself."

She gestured for him to relax. "Already sitting up, anyway, bullet wound is a hell of a lot better than knife wounds, when it comes to the leg."

He shifted onto his back again before sitting up. "I really can do it, you should rest"

"I don't want to rest," she almost snapped, then was instantly contrite, closing her eyes. "Sorry. Just, wrap it and I'll check it."

He tore open two gauze packets and lay the contents aside as he picked the roll up. "Just thought you looked tired." He dropped his eyes to his leg, placing the gauze at the back as he began wrapping then doing the same to the front wound as he reached it, lastly circling the thigh several times to hold them in place.

"Make sure you don't do it too tightly." She stayed where she was, like she couldn't move very far. "You always look tired too, you know."

Once he was finished he tied it off, looping the end under one layer then knotting it. He raised his eyes to her.

"I dealt with worse then this in Vukovar."

She tested it with her fingertips. "Are you saying I can't handle it as well as you?"

"It's not a game, no winners here."

She set her jaw, removing her fingers from the wrap. "I didn't say it was."

He lay back, only to set another coughing barrage into motion and quickly raised up. He reached behind his back, bunching the blanket under him slightly.

"You should be back on oxygen."

"You should be in bed."

She lifted her eyes to him. "No sleeping isn't going to kill me."

"I'll go back on the oxygen if you go back to bed."

Claire lifted an eyebrow. "Are we back to that game again?"

He coughed a little more harshly. "I guess so."

She eyed him, her look suspicious. "Go on the oxygen first."

"I don't think so."

She tilted her head. "I can't help you with the oxygen if I'm in bed already."

"Turn it on, then get back in bed." His voice came a little more hoarse as he offered the compromise.

"You can adjust it on your own?"

He simply looked at her. "Yes."

She looked like she would protest again, but after a pause, she leaned over to turn the machine on. Her fingers slid down the side and turned the equipment on, but stretching out made her yelp suddenly, and she drew her arm back to her chest, her other hand sliding over her ribs.

"What's wrong? He immediately sat up, ignoring the cough that broke at the action and his own spasm of pain.

"It's nothing," she said, through clenched teeth. "Look, it's on. Hold up, your end, of the bargain, put it on." She hunched over, her hand still pressed to her ribs. She had closed her eyes.

"Yeah, right." He reached to touch her side."Drop your arm."

"No!" she said, retreating a little further down the cot. "Put the damn oxygen on."

He frowned, then as she moved away forced his leg off the bed, making the move to stand despite the consequences. "If you won't let me I'll get your Father."

She took a few breaths, reopening her eyes and relaxing the tightness of her shoulders a little. "What are you doing? Luka!"

He groaned as he put weight on the leg, the crutches out of reach. "I'm not playing games."

She started to stand up, but had to hunch back over and sat on the cot again. "Fine, fine, just sit down."

As she agree he did as she had asked, the muscles in his leg spasming slightly. "Move back down here and let me see."

"Put the oxygen on first," she said, looking at him through one eye.

"I'll just get your Father." He pushed himself up off the bed, ignoring his half dressed state as he used the cot to steady himself and worked his way around it.

"Oh, for....fine!" She nearly shouted it, then moved her arm. In one swift movement, she yanked her shirt up and over her head. She was wearing a bra, but there was a large, blossoming bruise that started at the lower edge of her ribs and extended up under the edge of her bra.

Reaching the end he grabbed his jeans and fumbled them on at the same moment she agreed. Then cussed softly in Croatian at the sight of her injury.

"There, now we're both going for half-dressed," she said, shutting her eyes again and putting her hand over the bruise.

He reached for the crutches. "I'm going after your Father."

"No!" She started to rise off the cot, and reached for him with her other hand. "You can't."

He finished fastening his pants then reached for his crutches, with them to steady him he started for the door."

Her eyes were panicked. "Luka, don't get him. Please."

He stopped as she reached for him. "I have to."

"No, you don't." She managed to stand, taking deep breaths. She still kept one hand over the bruise. "The ribs aren't broken, I already checked. There's nothing that can be done."

"Could be inside damage. You need X-Rays."

"Internal." She corrected automatically. "If there was, there would already besigns." She took another breath. "I've been watching for anything to indicate internal bleeding. It's just the bruise."

He looked between her and the door, his loyalty obviously torn over what to do.

She trembled a little. "I don't want anyone seeing it. If you go and get him, then I'm leaving. You won't be able to return before I'm gone."

It didn't come from the tent." He stated the fact quietly. "That's why."

"And what difference is it going to make?" she asked, in a near whisper. "What do you think can be done now?"

"If you won't let me tell your Father, you have to let me do the exam, all of it." His tone left no room for negotiatian.

Her eyes widened. "You're not in any condition...to do that."

"Me or him...or I tell Angelique." The third compromise was added after a momentary delay.

She closed her eyes. "What are you trying to prove?"

"That you're all right, no, you'll never be all right again, but this happened because of me, and I have to know that nothing else is wrong."

Two tears slipped out from under her closed eyes. "Nothing else is wrong," she insisted.

He trembled slightly, his own fear and weakness mingling together as he stood there.

"Let me do the exam, or someone else can, if you're worried, you won't be my first."

"I don't want." she started, before swallowing. "I just don't understand the point. I survived, didn't I?"

"Physically, but things could still be wrong...there are things to look for."

"I know, don't you think I do? I know what to look for."

"Let me get Angelique, let her do it. You can trust her, I trust her."

She moved slowly, sitting down on her cot, her hair falling forward as she leaned over.

"It won't be long..."

"I don't know." she whispered.

"You have to be seen by someone."

"She'll tell Poppa. I don't want him to know."

"No one else has to know. I'll tell her...no file."

She lifted her eyes. "She'll tell him."

He shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Let me get her."

She lowered her eyes again, her shoulders trembling. "Poppa will be back soon."

He shifted the crutches."Then I need to hurry."

"Luka, do you have to?"

He started for the door, then turned and walked back to her, handing his picture to her. "I'm leaving this with you, I'll get it when I come backmy word to tell no one else, on their memories."

Her fingers shook a little as she took the picture, carefully. Looking up at him, she seemed confused. "You'd....leave it here?"

"I trust her, I trust you."

As she looked at him, a few more tears slipped unheeded down her face. "Okay."

He turned and headed for the door before he changed his mind, the panic at walking away already registering if he proved wrong in his reading of her. He disappeared out the door, five minutes... ten minutes... fifteen minutes and the flap rustled, the older woman came in with Luka not far behind her, she carried her own medical bag. "Claire?"

She was still sitting in the same position, in fact, she was holding the picture just as carefully, as if it were a bomb and she knew moving would set it off. Her eyes hadn't moved from it either, and she hadn't wiped any of the tears away either.

Angelique moved over beside her, taking a seat beside her and folding her arms around her like a mother holding a child.

Without answering Angelique, she turned and held out the picture to Luka. "H-here. I didn't lose it." She didn't seem to register the hug, just kept her eyes on the photo.

"Shh...she whispered to her in French, nonsense meant to soothe for a few minutes..

"I didn't lose it," she repeated, quieter.

He moved over to take the picture back, then retreated again. "I knew they were safe with you." He offered quietly before he slipped out the door, leaving the two women alone.

She managed a nod before he left, then closed her eyes, seemingly wilting into Angelique's embrace. A long while passed, an easy forty five minutes, before Angelique made her way outside the tent.

"Luka? Are you well?" She said it the way others said okay, rather than meaning non-sick.

He was leaning on one off the posts nearby, looking a bit shaky but holding his own.

"Better I think."

She moved over to regard him closely, although she smiled, motherly. "You are looking better now, oui."

"She going to be okay?" He asked the question very quietly.

She took a breath. "I believe so, there is some pelvic tenderness that is bothering me, but she agreed to come to the medical tent tomorrow for more testing. Her ribs are not broken, but are definitely bruised."

He nodded. "I told her only you would know, she doesn't want her Father to worry."

"It's understandable," she said, in her lilting voice. "She is very loyal and protective of her father, she does not like to see him upset. I would take her to the main tent right now, but he is still there, and will wonder if I do that."

He nodded."Is she sleeping?"

Angelique tilted her head slightly. "She is lying down, but I do not know if she is sleeping yet. She said she is not supposed to take anything because of her concussion."

"Unless you agree."

The older woman shifted her grip on the medical bag. "As long as she rests, I dont see the need yet to prescribe anything. She still has some lingering shock too."

He nodded."Should I leave her alone? I could move to a tent."

"It's really up to you, Luka. She does seem to trust you, however. And your moving might alert William that something more is wrong."

"I didn't think of that." He released a breath and a cough .."I'll stay then."

"It would serve twofold. You can keep an eye out for things that others may miss." She rested her hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "You are a good friend," she murmured.

"Thanks for coming."

"Of course. And try to keep her from moving around too much. She has several actual cuts that are bothering me...moving seems to aggravate them."

He pushed off the post as she spoke. "Cuts?"

"On her thigh. Only her right, for some reason. If they don't start closing properly, I may stitch them."

"She didn't tell anyone."

Angelique nodded. "She believed it would go away if she didn't speak of it, common reaction. Also..." She smiled a little. "Claire always struck me as a fairly stubborn woman."

"I should have seen the signs, I've seen it before."

She made a clucking sound with her tongue, reassuring. "You've had a lot to concern yourself with, mon chere. And someone like a med student knows how to hide those signs."

He released a breath. "I should go inside, before her Father comes back and wonders what is going on."

Angelique glanced around. "A good idea. I will see you soon, oui?"

"Thanks again. I'll make sure she is there tomorrow." He gave the woman a rare smile before turning and heading for the tentflap. Claire was lying on her cot again, but facing into the room rather than at the tent wall as he entered. Her eyes were open, but dry, with no indication that she had cried before. Angelique had apparently helped her put her shirt back on, but her shoes were sitting neatly on the floor.

"You going to lay down?" He moved over to the cot, switching the oxygen back on as he had agreed he would before sitting.

For a moment, it looked like she hadn't heard him, then she shifted her eyes to look at him. "You going to put that oxygen on?" If her tone wasn't so quiet, it might be teasing.

"I said I would."

"So you did," she said, quietly.

He drew a breath and eased the pants off, forgoing his earlier efforts at modesty due to his own growing fatigue. As he sat on his own cot he fished his picture out of the pocket before dropping the jeans into a pile next to it. That done, He coaxed his leg up and covered himself before finally slipping the tubing over his head and adjusting it.

Her eyes were still open, but she seemed oblivious to his changing, like she didn't see what was right in front of her. After a moment, she said, very low, "Did she talk to you?"

"Only to tell me to watch a couple things, I said she wouldn't tell."

"Watch a couple things?" She shifted, sliding her hand up under her head.

He lay back, only to cough then sat up to bunch the blankets again so he was only half reclining. "Yeah, shock mostly. You should rest."

She absorbed that, drawing her knees up slowly. "Luka?" she said, very low.

"Yeah?" His voice came equally subdued.

She was quiet for a while, as if she'd forgotten what she was going to say.

He tucked his picture near his head.

She closed her eyes. "Thanks," she finally murmured, faintly.

"You're welcome." He lay his head on his arm, settling his eyes on the picture as he listened to her breathing across the room. Only when he was sure that she was asleep did he allow himself to consider the same luxury, and within moments of it being given he too was asleep.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 22/38

by JD and Mel

The tent had darkened considerably with a fresh storm rolling in, and Luka rolled to his side, drawing the blanket over his shoulder to compensate for the chill. The sound of his breathing was rougher despite the oxygen and he only half slept as he listened for Claire to make any sounds or for William's return. William came into the tent, pushing back one of the flaps. There was a tenseness to his shoulders, a deadly seriousness that hadn't been there when he had left. At the sound of the rustle he opened his eyes, pushing himself up on his arm and forcing a cough to rise. William paused, looking him over, his eyes dark and fathomless. He didn't say anything yet, just moved over to check the oxygen level and set his bag down.

"Something wrong?" Luka's voice came rough but quiet.

He seemed very faraway, almost like he was holding himself in check. "What did Angelique say about how you were doing?" He drew the stool over, but didn't sit on it yet. He glanced to Luka, his voice low and modulated. "She did come to the tent, didn't she?"

He coughed, then forced himself to sit, drawing the blanket around him as he did. "She didn't." He coughed again, almost doubling himself over before it eased. "I went after her." He flicked his eyes to Claire then back to her father. "For Claire, I thought she might be more willing to talk to a woman."

William looked away from him, picking up his bag and setting it on the table so he could withdraw a few things. "And.?"

He coughed again, as he shook his head. "I don't know, I left them alone."

"Did Angelique do the exam?" He started replacing some of the dimished gauze in his bag from supplies.

"What did she say?"

"Do you always answer questions with another question?" he asked with a deceptively mild tone.

That he was torn over what to reveal was obvious and as a way of avoiding he let a particularly strong attack of coughing delay his response.

William sighed, although it was strained, and went over to adjust the oxygen. "Are you still taking the anitvirals?"

"Only what you gave me. I'm sorry, I said it was hers to tell." He leaned back slightly trying to draw more of the oxygen into his lungs.

William adjusted the prongs, then retrieved a small medicine bottle from his bag, and poured a cup of water. "Someone else saw Angelique come to the tent, and they saw you outside while she was here. " he said, evenly. He shook two capsules out into his hand, and offered them to Luka.

He tolerated the attentions, though he couldn't help the feeling of betrayal he felt over not sharing everything. Raising up he took the pills.

William held out the cup, silently. "I'm not, angry with you," he finally spoke, although it had a deeply strained sound to his tone.

He eyed them a minute then put them in his mouth before taking the water and drinking. "It's my fault, you can blame me."

"What is your fault?"

"If she hadn't started seeing me, brought me here, she wouldn't have, gone."

The muscles in William's jaw tightened a moment, but despite the flash of something in his eyes, he said, quietly, "You don't know that."

He lay back with a resigned sigh."No one is...safe around me... better I go." He started to lift his hand to the tubing as if he was going to remove it as he sat up.

"Luka." William sat down on the edge of the cot, as if a great weight were on his shoulders. "I'm asking you....not to go." His voice was very low, and sounded tired, hollow.'

"It'll be better, I make too much trouble for everyone."

William smoothed his hand over his eyes. "You're wrong....and I'd like it if you stayed."

"She needs you...I'm just...in the way." He did lay back again though he still protested.

"She doesn't want me to know," William pointed out, his shoulders tight. He didn't look at Luka. "One of the men who had gone with her, he was the one who saw Angelique come here."

"He knows?" His question was followed by coughs that forced him to sit until they eased.

William was quiet for a long moment.

"How could they just watch?" His question was so quiet it might not even have been meant to be voiced aloud.

William cleared his throat, quietly. "As I suspected, there were guns involved." After a moment more, he said, "He told me he was glad she finally spoke up."

Luka swallowed."So, they chose their lives over hers." He fought the emotion in his voice knowing he would have sacrificed himself had he been there in hopes he could reunite with his family.

The lines along William's arms stood out in relief, as if he was ready to spring up and move, but he remained where he was. "You never know what someone might do in that situation," he finally said, although it sounded rote.

"I do...there are.." He drew a ragged breath. "There are worse things then dying."

William took a short breath, then indicated he wanted to see how the leg was wrapped. The need to do something was clear in his expression. "He told me all of it," he said, after another pause.

Luka nodded, pulling aside the blanket to reveal the bare leg..

"That's why I had asked you about the exam." He slid his fingers under the bandage and tested it, but still didn't look up at Luka. "I can't ask anyone else."

He nodded, then looked to Claire and back before lowering his voice. "She's going to see Angelique again tomorrow."

"Angelique won't tell me anything either," he said, noncommitally. "But I suppose that is something."

He swallowed a fresh cough."Maybe she needs time before she can talk, like I did."

"Be that as it may." He readjusted the blanket over his leg. "I'd prefer it if you stayed here for a little while longer. Let's say that...I need you to."

He nodded."There are things I haven't told...even to the soldiers." The confession came quietly.

William had to clear his throat again. "You know you can talk to me." He smiled, weakly. "Be nice if someone did."

He drew a ragged breath as he rubbed his eyes. "Doesn't change it... to talk about it...but those are the things that come in the nightmares..."

"I see. Well, if it will help." William glanced at him. "I know it would help distract me. I..." He let his voice trail off, rubbing at his chin a moment.

"I don't know if anything can help."

"It's not that." One of his hands made a fist on his knee. "I'm trying to keep from going after that volunteer that told me all about it."

"I know...after my family..." He stopped himself from saying more then restarted. "I wanted to become a soldier, I wanted to kill all of them...to make them all of them pay."

"And now?" he asked, quietly.

"I don't know, sometimes I wish they would find me...finish me...I almost let them, but I promised someone to get out." He squeezed his eyes closed to stop the tears he knew were close with the knowledge that the man was likely dead now as well.

"Do you still want to be a soldier?"

"I don't know what I want." He let his eyes settle on the man."I want someone to pay, but I know it won't change anything."

William nodded his acceptance of that, putting a hand on Luka's shoulder. "Yes, I need to remember that as well."

"No matter how many I would kill they would all still be dead." He leaned his head to the man's arm, a silent acceptance of the contact. "At least you still have her...it's more then I have."

William smoothed a hand over Luka's hair. "Maybe," he started, quietly, "maybe this is why it was so important that I meet you." He said it more to himself than anything.

He stifled half a cough but said nothing..letting his own fatigue draw him to it again.

"Alright," he murmured, quietly. "It's late. You should be sleeping."

He nodded.."So should you, no beds left though."

William smiled, although it was worn. "I can always take the floor."

"I can sleep on the floor." He drew back from William's touch. "Slept worse places."

William shook his head. "Not until the last of the cough is gone."

Luka settled his eyes on him weighing his chance of arguing then conceded without a fight as he lay back.

William actually smiled. "I see you are giving in more often where Claire and I are concerned."

"Can't win." His words came with the hint of drowsiness signalling the approaching sleep.

"You're wrong," William said, very quietly, drawing the covers up. "You've won us over, pretty much."

If Luka heard he didn't comment, his eyes having closed so the dark lashes rested against the bruising under his eyes. William remained at his side until the silence of the darkening room was broken only by the wheeze of his breathing and the whisper of the oxygen.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 23/38

by JD and Mel

Luka's sleep was again restless, his thoughts troubled from his conversation with William. As if that weren't enough, lingering congestion left his breathing raspy, and what little sleep came was soon interrupted by the racking cough throughout the night. Several times he woke, only to lay in the darkness of the tent envying the other two as they slept, wondering how they could possibly sleep through the noise before he fell asleep again.

Too soon it seemed that trails of light crept into the tent, signifying early morning. William had slept on the floor, and was seemingly none the worse for wear. Claire was still sound asleep, and had not stirred all night long, almost too deep a sleep. As yet another run of coughing roused him Luka pushed up on his arm, looking around the tent as he waited for it to ease. William had woken, but was simply reading, turned to catch a band of light from the tent opening. Catching sight of him, Luka cleared his throat. "Morning." His voice came hoarse and broken with the greeting.

William set the book down, sitting up. "Morning." He looked too alert for this early in the morning. "What's the status?" he asked.

"Sorry?" Luka looked puzzled by the question.

William gave a mild smile. "How are you feeling this morning? That's what I meant."

"Like someone is sitting on me." He coughed in punctuation to his answer. "You?"

William took a breath, rising from his makeshift bed, and moving over. He was wearing what looked like sweat pants, loose at the ankles. "About the same. So, tightness in the chest?" He bent to retrieve his bag. Luka nodded to the question and sat up fully in preparation for what he knew was coming. William settled onto the stool, and drew out the scope. He placed it at his ears, and set the scope to his chest. "Always the last to go," he mused..

"I didn't hear her last night, dreams, I mean." His voice broke as he spoke.

William paused, ostensibly to listen to his chest, but he didn't seem to be paying attention. "She woke up a little after you fell asleep," he said, quieter.

"I tried to listen." He coughed, a deep and hoarse sound.

William shook his head just a little, frowning as he concentrated on the sounds. His eyes were unfocused. "I ended up sedating her. She wasn't getting any sleep."

"I'm sorry." He offered the apology, assuming his coughing was responsible "You going to take her home?"

He flicked his eyes upward, towards him. "I've thought about it." He moved the scope to his back. "Take a deep breath." Luka drew a strained breath, then coughed from the effort. "Okay, just a breath will be fine," William amended, and Luka took another, less deeply this time. William moved the scope a little at a time, pinpointing the different sounds. Among all the other sounds, Luka's stomach rumbled slightly, evidence to his lack of eating the day before.

After a pensive moment, William removed the scope and set it back in his bag. "It might not seem like it, but there is some improvement."

"That's good."

"Do you agree?"

He brushed his hand through his hair, then over the beard growth before shrugging. "Yeah, I guess, the cough's because it's breaking down?"

William nodded. "Your body is trying to expel the build up."

"Yeah, worse then keeping it." He managed a small smile.

William chuckled, low. "Well, the body does reabsorb some of it. But yes. Now, breakfast?"

"I'm okay, I should clean up though." He looked around for where he had dropped his clothes in preparation for getting dressed.

"Is that a yes?" William handed him his pants.

"I'd take tea, know coffee is scarce." Luka took the jeans then moved his legs to the side of the bed before dropping the pants and leaning forward to ease them on.

William drew on a shirt over his white t-shirt, his movements restrained. He took the time to pull his thin braid from under the collar, then went to sit on the edge of Claire's cot. She was still deeply asleep, under the blanket William had put over her the night before.

Using the bed to support him and careful of his bad leg, Luka stood to pull his pants up then looked for the shirt. Spotting it at the foot of his cot, he carefully worked his steps to it, the effort more difficult without the crutch. He watched as William listened to her breathing a moment, setting his fingers to first her head, then slid them over her throat. She didn't stir at all.

"Better to stay with her." He pulled the shirt over his head, oblivious to the way it hung on his thin frame.

William set his hands back on his knees. "Where are you going to head off to?"

He wrinkled his nose a bit. "Should wash up some, maybe shave."

William nodded. "Get something to eat?"

He eyed William as he reached for his shoes, then sat to pull them on before nodding. "Bring you and Claire something back?"

"Would you?" William seemed surprised that he offered. "I'm not sure you can manage, with the crutches."

Luka just nodded, his efforts bringing on a cough but not stopping him as he rose and reached for the crutches. "Have to learn sometime." Once they were steady under his arms he gave William a half smile and headed for the door.

Some twenty minutes later he returned. Luka pushed the door open, juggling a cotton bag on one side and a metal cup in his other hand. William had changed into jeans, and seemed to have cleaned up. He also was wearing his shoes, as if he was ready to go out on rounds. Luka moved to William and passed the bag to him.

William glanced into it and set the bag aside. "Good job, Luka," he said, approvingly. Inside a mixture of breakfast items were wrapped and he recognized them from the staff tent. Luka's cup, on the other hand, showed the wear of the more populated mess and once he reached his cot and sat, he pulled a chunk of bread from his pocket and lay it aside, content to sip the tea in his cup. Now clean shaven, it appeared he'd made good on his vow to visit the showers as well. "You were industrious this morning."

Luka had a quick grin, but it vanished as he looked over at the other cot. Claire was still asleep, but she had obviously moved, coming out of a deeper sleep. "I had to argue with them to get them to believe it was for you," he added, with a humored sigh in his tone.

William looked surprised. "You argued with them?" He reached into the bag, pulling out one of the wrapped things. Luka shrugged, and took another sip, although he couldn't keep the slightly satisfied look from his eye. William unwrapped the slices of bread, then laid out the rest of the items. Curious, he looked over an unlabeled can that was marked with permanent ink. "Are you only going to have the tea?"

"I got some bread." Luka indicated the crusty chunk on the nightstand.

William took some utensils from his foot locker, and opened the can. "Not bad, peaches. Want to try it? Good vitamins."

Luka felt surprise flood his features. The fruit a luxury he'd not seen in far too many months. "Should save it for Claire."

"I will, but you could still have a little bit."

"Been a longtime." Luka admitted. William set his fork in the can, then handed it over to him. The younger man set the cup on the small table before taking it, then speared one slice before passing it back. It dripped from the preservative juice, and the scent was strong, enough to make his mouth hurt slightly. Luka held the slice as if not sure it was real then took a bite, letting it fully slide down his throat before he took another. Giving into the rarity of the treat he ate slowly, savoring the sweetness. As he finished he reached for the tea again. "Thanks."

On the cot, Claire moved, the covers rustling as she tossed a little, starting to wake.

William set the can down on the bedside table, drawing the stool over and sitting on it, evenly between the two cots. The older man gave him a smile, his eyes going between checking on Luka to make sure he ate, to Claire where she was starting to wake up. "Give Claire some time, she'll find chocolate if it comes into camp. I think she can smell it out."

Catching William's eye on him he reached for the bread, pulling a small bite off and soaking it in the tea before he popped it in his mouth. "They didn't have any."

Claire blinked, coming awake groggily. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Did someone mention chocolate?"

Luka glanced to the bed as she woke, his hair still damp from the showers. "No, chocolate, sorry." He couldn't help but smile at her instant interest.

William shook his head. "Sorry, Claire. How are you feeling?" He was obviously trying to not be too oversolicitious.

She used her elbows to push herself up, her hair tousled, her face still drawn. "Ugh, my mouth is all fuzzy."

Luka looked between them, confused over the term. "Fuzz-ee?"

William reached for the can and held it out. "From the sominex. Here, peaches."

Claire glanced at Luka, pushing hair out of her face. "Yes, like cotton. Fuzzy, thick." She looked at the can in surprise. "Really?" Luka nodded both his understanding and confirming the peaches, then broke another bite of bread off and dipped it in the tea to soften it.

She took the can, and dipped out one of the pieces, taking time to chew it. "That does help," she admitted.

William was watching her, although trying to appear as if he wasn't doing so closely. "I do need to start my rounds soon," he said, reluctantly.

Setting the cup aside, Luka leaned down to unlace the shoe on his braced leg then pulled it off in preparation of bringing the leg back onto the bed. He untied the other boot and brought his legs back onto the bed, the exercise of the morning having taken more from him then he was ready to admit. His breathing too was still rattled. He pulled the bedroll up enough so he was reclining rather then laying flat to compensate for the difficulty in breathing.

Claire paused with the fork still in the can. "Did you go somewhere, Luka?"

He leaned across to pick the tin cup which held his tea then sat back again with it cradled in his hands, warming them, the bread forgotten where it sat. "I went after the breakfast and took a shower." He brushed his hand back through his hair, lifting still damp bangs off of his face unconsciously.

"Really?" She looked down at the can. "How did you manage to get peaches?"

William fiddled with his bag, then busied himself restarting the oxygen for Luka.

"They came from the staff mess tent," Luka said, casually, as if he went there regularly all the time. "I told them it was for you two, but they weren't sure if they could believe me."

She got an odd look when he mentioned the staff. "They didn't, ask why we weren't there?"

He steadied the cup as he coughed, then took a sip as it eased. He shifted to Croatian. "Ja ne shvatiti." He managed a smile at his creativity.

She smiled, dropping her eyes again to the can, although she only played with the fork instead of eating.

"I might send you all the time," William murmured, making sure Luka wore the oxygen tube again. Luka tolerated the placement of the tube, not bothering to voice any protest. The older man moved over to Claire's cot, and pulled the stool a little closer. "I've got a lot to do today," he said, quietly. He obviously wanted to say something different, but simply said, "You two should try taking some walks while it's not raining."

She poked the peaches with the fork, not looking up. "Sure, we can do that."

"Don't waste the food," he chided them both. "Eat up."

"Don't see you eating it." He voiced the complaint quietly but reached for his chunk of bread all the same, then broke another piece off and soaked it in the tea before putting it in his mouth.

William gave him a look. "You're awfully smart-mouthed for such a skinny kid," he teased, with a smirk.

He looked over at the man. "Haven't been a kid for a longtime." Claire oblingingly put one of the peaches in her mouth to avoid arguing, and watched the two of them.

"Compared to me, you are. Now, eat."

Luka soaked another bite, then chewed it obviously for William's benefit, but took his time in swallowing in concession to the sore throat.

In a move meant to placate them, William took up one of the slices of bread, and found a bit of preserves tucked into a paper envelope in the bag, then spread it on the bread. There were noticable differences in the bread; while Luka's was a grainier farm bread, the slices provided to the staff were softer. Taking a bite, he chewed for a moment, as he retook a seat on the edge of Claire's cot. With his free hand, he rubbed her knee. "Take it easy today," he said. "Too much moving around, past few days."

Claire looked up, but just nodded, keeping to her quiet eating.

With a final pat, he rose, giving Luka another assessing look before he picked up his bag. "If you need me, come looking. I'll be in the med tent most of the day, I figure."

"Okay." He took another bite while William was in the tent to placate him.

Claire nodded, again, lowering her eyes. She rested the can on one of her knees. William took his bread and left the tent, the flap falling down behind him.

"There's oatmeal in there." He motioned to the bag on the table beside Claire's cot. "You could add the peaches."

She lifted her eyes to the abandoned bag, then looked at him. "Want any more yourself? I don't think I can take the whole can."

"Save it for later. I'm really not that hungry."

"Are you sure? They would be good for your throat." She stirred the fork. "They taste heavenly, I just can't eat too much fruit on an empty stomach."

"I had some, before you woke up."

"Ah." She managed a smile. "Testing them out for me?"

"Your father was sharing."

Her smile faltered a little, and she set the can aside, on the small table between the cots.

"What'd I say?"

"It's not that." she started. After a pause, she said, "He knows, doesn't he?"

He looked over at her, debating a moment, then nodded. "He won't say anything, I don't think. I didn't tell him, neither did Angelique."

"Say anything?" She sighed, sliding down on the cot again. "He was the only one I didn't want to know. I don't care if he says anything now."

"You have to see her today."

She didn't look over but nodded slowly. "Who told him?"

"One of those with you, not sure if he meant to. But he's your father...you're still his child." He swallowed before he could continue. "He only wants to be there for you. Nothing hurts worse then seeing your child in pain, and knowing you can't do anything but be there for them."

She was quiet, absorbing his words, although she simply looked up at the roof of the tent. "He shouldn't have to know about things like that," she finally said, low.

"He's your father...none of it will matter except that you are here now," Luka insisted.

"It does matter," she said, resting her forearm over her eyes, obscuring them. "It's always going to bother him."

"Not knowing would be worse," he warned. "He would know something was wrong and imagining is worse then knowing the truth."

"I don't think you could imagine..." she said, her voice thick, although she let it trail off.

"He's been working here long enough to have seen it all, Claire. He knows how bad it can get. You're alive, and that's more then many of the women they get their hands on can say."

She didn't answer for a moment, then finally, "I understood what you meant before, kind-of."

"Kind of?"

"About wanting to be dead." It was a quiet response.

He leaned over to set the now empty cup and the remaining bread on the table, feeling a cold chill. "You still feel like that?"

She shifted her arm a little. "Yes and no. Not like it was while....it was happening. I kept thinking, why don't they just shoot me and be done with it. And then, after.....I was grateful, but not that I survived....grateful that they didn't take the supplies."

"It's about the power...the control," Luka ventured, hoping that she would see it wasn't so straightforward a thing. "That's why they do it to women...and children. The men they shoot...because far too many are like me and with their families gone, they don't care if they die."

"Well....at the time, I didn't care."

"I can't say I know what that's like...I don't."

"Be glad," she said, very low.

"I know when I was shot I thought I would just stay there, let them catch me and finish me...but I promised someone I would get out of the city..so I got up. Afterward...I wished I had stayed...so I wouldn't see what I did."

"But you came here," she murmured, moving her arm so she could rub her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"No...I had given up," he protested. "A couple of the drivers found me unconscious in a ditch near the road, they brought me here. I begged Angelique to let me die."

"You gave up?" Her voice was rusty.

"I was tired...hungry, in pain. I knew I couldn't keep running, so I thought if I just went to sleep...it would all go away and I could be with my family again. Maybe that makes you stronger then me."

"Why?" she asked, thickly.

Because you didn't quit," he said, softly. "You came back..you went right to work...I gave up."

"I wanted to pretend," she said. The words were just as soft. "Pretend that it hadn't happened."

"It's hard to do, it comes in your sleep, when you want it to stay away." His voice was more distant and it was hard to tell if he was speaking for her or himself.

She rolled on the cot, facing away from him, her shoulders hunched. He raised up a bit to ease the coughing that hit him, then lay back again, watching Claire's back but saying nothing as he gave her time to think.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 24/38

by JD and Mel

The silence in the tent stretched, allowing the sounds outside the tent to filter in, even here life continued despite what either of them might want. It was Claire who finally broke the self imposed solitude.

"I do need to go see her today," Claire said, quietly.

"Angelique?"

Instead of answering, she instead asked, "Are you...going to go, too?"

"Do you want me to?

She was silent a moment, then said, "Angelique would like to see you."

"That's not what I asked you." Luka turned slightly to his side and raised up on his arm so that he could more comfortably watch her.

"Yes," she finally said.

"Then I'll go." He kept his eyes on her back as he spoke.

She relaxed slightly, although her shoulders remained hunched, as if her arms were kept close to her chest. "I need to get stitches," she said, very low.

That forced him to sit, and he pulled the oxygen off as he did. "Where?"

Claire heard him move, and half-turned back, enough so he could see her eyes, and the feeling within them. "Don't take off the oxygen."

He didn't move except to drop his feet to the floor. It was always an effective threat. "Where?"

She returned back to her former position. "On my thigh."

"You showed her?"

"Yes."

That seemed to alleviate some of the worry and he leaned forward to cough. Without the oxygen there were a few moments of heavily drawn breaths before he grew quiet again. "Should go now then..." His words came rougher.

She turned over, looking at him. "I wish you wouldn't take the oxygen off.." She swallowed. "Hearing your coug, it goes right through me."

"I have to take it off to go." He leaned forward to retreive his shoes.

"Can we....take just a few minutes?"

"If you want." He picked up one shoe and slid the foot of his good leg in it, then laced it before forcing himself to stand so he could put the other on.

"Those shoes fit you better?"

He left it untied as he used the bed and half hopped over to reach the oxygen to turn it off, the crutches still leaning at the foot of the cot. "Yeah, not so big."

"I'm glad," she said, softly.

He swallowed a cough at the effort and did the half hop back to where the crutches lay then grabbed them before he sat again.

"Wish I didn't have to get stitches. I hate needles," she tried to joke, weakly.

"It won't be so bad."

"Maybe....it's all in the mind, though." She sniffed once, then asked, "You really think I am stronger?"

"It's harder to keep going. Too hard for me." He finished the end more quietly.

"I can't let you give up," she said, as if trying to explain it. "I can't."

"Yeah...so you keep telling me." His tone was a tad lighter, a joke from him?

"I'm afraid I'm going to fail."

Luka rubbed his fingers in the corner of his eye. "I can't make any promises...not yet...there are still times.." His voice cracked and he paused before beginning again. "There are still times when it hurts so bad...that I miss them so much." He waved a hand in dismissal. "But I'm trying. Everything I own consists of a photo of dead people and someone's old clothes...not much to build a life on."

"I know....I know you are trying," she said, low and unevenly. "I want to help...and I feel like I can't help anymore.."

"Why? Because they took something that wasn't theirs to take? That doesn't change what you're doing...it makes you different. Makes you see us differently maybe..." He wiped his hand over his face, "It's hard to explain."

"I..." She faltered, then said, thickly, "I've been trying to show you that there is still life worth living out there, and then this happens."

"I know...but it's not your fault."

"How can I help you, when I can't...can't even..." She stopped, turning over again with her back to him.

"Helping me is the last thing you should be worrying about now." Even as he spoke the words he wasn't sure how they might be interpreted by her.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 25/38

by JD and Mel

Luka rested on the bench outside of the main medical tent, having brushed off Angelique's attempts to look him over. It was hard for him not to be nervous, and not just due to his worry for Claire. As irrational as it was, whenever anyone in uniform passed he tensed as if expecting to be confronted by the soldiers demanding still more questioning over all he had seen. He made no attempts to engage anyone passing in conversation. Why should he? All it brought was more reminders of what he had lost. That he sat here now waiting for Claire to finish inevitably brought back memories of his first meetings with the woman. Who had thought then that she would become so much a part of his life? There was slight movement of the door, then Claire slipped outside, closing it behind her.

He glanced up as the door opened, pushing aside the lingering thoughts, then reached for the crutches to pull himself to his feet. "All finished?"

"Yea," she said, sliding her hands into her jean pockets, almost nervously, with her shoulders hunched. She looked out across the camp instead of at him.

"You all right?" His tone held the note of concern and the hesitation of not wanting to pry.

Her lips pressed together, her eyes dropping but still not looking at him. "I don't know....I guess."

"You want to be alone? I can walk you back and go somewhere." He punctuated the offer with a brief cough.

"Not really." She swallowed, looking back over the camp, at the wan sunlight. "Walk sounds nice though."

Luka wet his lips, letting his eyes roam the area around them before returning to her. "Okay."

Finally, she looked at him. "But I don't think that would be ideal for you....maybe I should walk you back to the tent, put you back on the oxygen."

"I'm okay."

"What about your leg?"

He forced himself to look at her and not the people around them. "It's not too bad," he said offhandedly. He adjusted the fit of the crutches under his arms. "I can do it."

Her eyes searched his for a moment, her own tired and strained. "Alright....short walk."

"Where to?"

"I don't know..." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Not much to look at around here."

"Could go out to the fence?" He didn't mention that it was his choice because it meant no people around them.

"Yes..." she said slowly. "I'd like to go outside the fence. Can we get around it?"

He nodded in response then began to walk. It took him a bit to find his pace and his eyes settled on the ground at first as he avoided rocks and such. "I don't know." She walked alongside him, with a small limp, much less noticable than his own. At first he said nothing, giving her a chance to get her thoughts together as well as him a chance to do the same with his own.

"I suppose I shouldn't make you do too much. I can see later, if there is a way to walk outside it."

He raised his eyes from the ground and looked over to her. "Not much on the other side but field. I don't even think I knew it was there the other night." He made the confession quietly. "I'd just started walking...didn't know where I was going."

"I know." She avoided the eyes of people passing them, but kept her gaze on the camp at large. The tents thinned as they walked, slowly but surely, towards the edge of the camp. "Good thing for you it was there," she pointed out, quietly.

"Maybe."

"It was." She set her jaw, almost stubbornly.

He lifted his eyes to her again, trying to read her before saying anything. "How long would you have looked?"

"As long as I had to."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want you to die."

He ran his tongue inside his lips.."I wanted to...after reliving all of it. I thought I could just keep walking and it would all disappear...the fence stopped me."

"I suppose I just had to be selfish then."

He had no answer for her clipped words. Once they actually cleared the camp, he seemed to visibly relax as if just the idea of there being no one watching him made a difference in his whole posture. The fence materialized, rickety and sparse, bordering one side.

"I need to start working again tomorrow," she said finally.

He nodded to her statement. "Where at?"

"I'll be doing the same thing I was before," she said, as they approached it, slowly. "Helping here and there...running supplies."

"Be hard to go back.." He said it for himself as well as for her, knowing he wasn't sure he could go back to Vukovar...not with what he had seen, and lost. He paused as they reached the fence, resting the crutches against itas he caught his breath.

"Yes," she agreed quietly. One of her hands just touched the fence, although she didn't grasp it. "Just keep walking....it sounds appealing, doesn't it?"

"Before they found me I was doing that." His voice was quieter. "I didn't know where I was even going...only that I had to keep walking until I finally couldn't anymore."

"What did you think you would find?" She let her eyes roam over the unending fields past the fence.

His eyes drifted to the field and his gaze seemed to unfocus. "Think...or hope?"

She looked at him. "I already know.."

"It wasn't there...isn't there.."

"What if..." she started to say, but then shook her head. "It will be hard, going back."

"Least you have something to go back to, people who are there for you."

She moved to the fence and rested her arms atop it. "Yea.." She glanced at him. "You mention that a lot." He coughed lightly, then shifted his eyes to her. "About my having a place to go back to. People, all that," she continued.

"It's true...isn't it?"

"Why does it matter?"

"It's worse to be alone." His voice grew softer. "To lose everything and everyone."

"Do you think I'm going to tell anyone about what happened here?" she said, quietly.

"You don't have to tell them...they'll still be there."

"People come and go," she answered, vaguely. "What about your father?"

He looked back over the field and wet his lips. "I don't know."

"We should try and find him."

"I'm not even sure where to look," Luka admitted. "I know where they were...but...he had to leave.."

"We'll try," she repeated, still quiet. "There are ways."

"I sent a letter after...but I never heard anything back, I don't even know if it found him."

"Maybe it didn't, but you can always write more letters."

"Maybe it's better like this, not knowing." He looked off into the field again.

"Why?"

He rubbed his eyes before answering. "I don't think I'm ready to know for sure that he might be gone too."

"You can hope that he's still alive." Claire watched him, still somber. "Nothing wrong with writing a letter."

"Not yet...not so soon...if it finds someone who knows..." He shook his head. "It's better with a little hope."

"Okay," she sighed. "But,someday you have to try again."

He nodded slightly and sighed. "Yeah...someday."

She watched him another moment, then said, in his native tongue, "Help me with my Croatian.."

He looked over to her and lifted an eyebrow.

She blinked at his direct look. "..Please?" she added, unsure.

"Help you what?" He slid easily into his native tongue and the hesitation and halt that was present in his English faded.

"Speak it better," she replied, now the one with the hesitation in her voice. "We could...speak it from now on....sort of....all Croatian, all the time." She offered a wan smile.

"Better for me." He offered one of the infrequent smiles. "What about your father?"

"Well....we would have to use English with him," she admitted, although her words in his tongue were slow. "It's just for...you and me."

"He doesn't speak it at all?"

"Some...he learned..after me." She struggled for a few of the words.

He nodded and looked up at the sky, frowning at the darkening clouds. "We better go back before he worries."

Her grip tightened on the fence. She seemed hesitant.

He settled his eyes on her. "He's your tata...he won't say anything to hurt you."

"You can go back," she said, still in Croatian. "Get some rest. I'll stay out here a little longer."

He shook his head and shifted his position some. "Bad idea...then I have to explain why I left you here by yourself and he's not my tata."

"He likes you," she protested, her tongue getting better. "He's not going to be upset. Besides, it's still morning...not the middle of the night.."

"Says you..." Luka answered, repressing another smile.

She frowned a moment, deciphering the syntax. "Ah....yes, I say so."

"Not sure I believe you though."

"I do not lie," she murmured, her accent a little off.

"Not lie...but if he was mad anything could happen."

She looked at him. "Anything could happen?"

He shrugged, the slight smile winning out.

Claire sighed. "You can't let me stay out here?"

He shook his head. "Nope...like you couldn't let me."

"It's not the same."

He looked over the field. "It's a place to hide...but it can't change things...or make any of them go away."

"I'm not going to die out here."

"Maybe not outside...but you can still do it inside..." He stopped, getting far too close to his own truths.

"Do you think...that is what I am doing?"

"Only you know that."

"Is that what is happening to you?"

Luka closed his eyes a moment, then opened them though he didn't look at her. She always turned those tough questions back on him, but perhaps it was what he needed. "Yeah...I think maybe...and it's a painful way to go."

"How do I stop you from doing that?" she asked, very quietly.

Luka stared across the field a moment more, then dropped his eyes to her. "I don't know."

"Will you tell me when you do know?" she asked, with a sad half-smile.

Would he even try to know? He looked back out over the field a minute more before answering almost reluctantly. "Yeah.."

Claire watched him. "Now I do not believe you."

He forced himself to look at her and repeated her words to him. "I do not lie."

Slowly, she nodded. "Alright. Then you have to tell me when you know. When you know what I can do."

"Guess that means we're stuck with each other awhile. Ready to walk back?"

She let out a short breath, reluctantly. "I do not think I have a choice."

He released a rare laugh, then reached for the crutches. "Nope...not really."

"Now, honestly, I don't think you could actually make me," she teased, grumpily, looking at the crutches.

"Probably not, but I could try." He pushed off the fence, then settled the crutches under his arms before he turned his back to the fence. It was only when she did the same that he moved away, though he paused to assure himself she was at his side. Neither said much on the way back, each settling into their own thoughts as they walked. There would be time for talk later.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 26/38

by JD and Mel

Claire matched Luka's pace, slow, still with the slight limp. His breathing seemed to be coming a little rougher with the exertion though his coughing wasn't as bad as it had been only the night before, only brief bursts hitting him every so often.

Finally, as if no longer able to stand the shared silence she looked his way. "Of course, you could always whack me over the head with one of the crutches," she mused out loud, almost as if she were trying the Croatian words out.

"Not like hitting you in the head would do anything." His words were barely loud enough for her to hear.

"Hasn't done much so far," she said, wryly.

"Hard headed." He nodded, before flicking his eyes to her.

"Like you," she observed.

He shrugged and looked down at the path as it got a bit rockier.

"How are my words, so far?"

"Not bad...I can understand you...most people will...little accent problems but people will understand."

"I studied....kind of hard."

"Not too hard...not like English," he answered, wryly.

"Maybe....but I can't always remember the accents...where they go.."

He nodded. "Like my name, looks like Kovak. But is Kovach...hard for some people."

"Yes....the c....it's hard to remember if you don't always speak it."

"It's different, easy when you see it written with the accent marks, tells you how to say it."

"That's why I need you to speak it with me."

"Not like the first time when you wanted me to only speak English."

A blush crept up her cheeks. "I didn't feel like I knew enough....to talk....but I practiced, when I went...when I wasn't with you."

He nodded. "I knew more English then I let you think."

"I guessed that, afterwards. You, really did not want to talk to me."

"I didn't want to talk to anyone. The nurses told you I'm sure." It was his turn to feel embarrassed at how difficult he had made those early meetings.

"Yes.." Just like he had, she got more tense as they got closer to the rest of the tents, with more people around. "I don't...get upset, talking," she said. "I can always talk...no matter what. But..."

By the time they reached her tent, Luka was noticeably winded though he hadn't complained, his coughing finally becoming more frequent as his breathing came much harsher. He flicked his eyes to her as she held open the tent flap for him. "Thanks."
He shared a brief smile with her before he stepped through the open flap and moved to the bed. Sitting heavily, he laid the crutches aside before bending to take his shoes off, using his right to get the left free because of the brace. As if anticipating the upcoming difficulty Claire knelt to help him take the shoes off, and while he wanted to protest he instead accepted her help. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." She slid his shoes under his cot then rose with some difficulty, and went to sit on the other cot, gingerly.

He could already feel the ache in his muscles as he eased his leg onto the cot, and it was a relief to have his weight off his legs, giving into a slight cough, he laid back before closing his eyes as he waited for his breathing to slow.

"Wait...you need the oxygen again.." Anticipating that he would soon be asleep she got up, and moved over to the machine, going to one knee beside it to turn it on.

"Should save it for someone else." He offered the protest without bothering to open his eyes.

"It is here, so you should use it until it is gone." With some difficulty, she turned it on. Reluctantly his lids lifted and he looked over to her before pushing himself up on his forearms. She managed to get it started, and took the clear tubing, moving to sit on the edge of his cot, to loop it around him.

He tolerated her attentions then looked to see if the tin cup still sat on the small table. "Could I have some water?" He regretted asking her to do more even as he asked.

"Sure." She pushed herself off the cot and took up the glass, going to fill it from the pitcher and brought it back to him.

He took it with one hand and took several swallows before handing it back to her. "Thanks."

She nodded, setting it on the bedside table again. "You're going back to sleep?" she asked, quietly.

"Kind of tired...but I can stay awake. There was more in the bag from this morning." He offered the news as he leaned back again.

"The food?" she asked, perplexed.

He nodded. "If you're hungry that is."

"Okay," she gave in, with a little smile. Getting up, she walked over and took up the bag, before sitting on the edge of the cot to pull each of the things out, with growing surprise. "Luka...how did you get all these things?"

He cracked an eye open as he pushed up on one arm. "Told the food tent they were for you...Marissa says hello."

She held a few of the things in her hands, looking down at them. "She did?"

He nodded. "Not sure they believed me at first...thought I wanted it for myself."

"Thank you for trying...for getting all this."

"I showed them I already had mine and then they believed me."

She arranged the contents on her cot, then, after opening a small box, took and slowly ate a couple of the raisins it held inside. "You look tired," she said. "You don't have to stay up to talk to me."

"It's okay...not used to doing so much is all...been too lazy."

"You're a patient. You are supposed to be lazy."

"Won't be long and your father will want his tent back..I'll have to move to one of the common ones."

"Angelique wants you back there as well."

"Not sick enough for that...and they need the bed for someone who is."

"Won't you like having your own tent?"

"Not enough tents to have my own...most likely I'll go to one of the one's for single men."

"Well.....even then, you'll be away from us bothering you all the time," she offered, with a brief smile.

Without thinking he slipped his hand in his pocket to finger the picture, the identity of once more being single still not one he was comfortable with. "Sticking needles in me..." He offered the addition as a way of masking the thoughts.

She winced. "I don't stick needles in you...." Absently, she rubbed her upper leg.

"Your father does..when I'm sleeping."

"Oh." She looked down at the raisins cupped in her other hand. "I hate needles."

"Got to get used to them as a doctor."

"I know," she said, with a sheepish laugh. "I don't mind sticking other people with them...it's when I have to get..." She struggled for the word, when she was doing so well. "Sticked?"

"Stuck." He offered the correction gently...then followed it with a barely suppressed yawn. "Makes all the difference."

"You can go to sleep," she said, gently.

"It's okay...if you want to talk."

"Part of me does, but I don't need to," she murmured. "Mostly, I just don't want to lie down."

He withdrew his picture, flicking his eyes to the images before cupping his hand over it as he lay it on his chest. "Can sit in the chair..." He offered the concession.

"I can sit here," she replied, ducking her head. "I just feel worse when I lie down."

Even quieter he added, "Can lay over here." As he made the offer he eased over to the far side of his cot.

She paused, surprised he offered it. "I...." She swallowed, then said, "I'd just cry on you. Very messy." She managed a weak smile.

He offered a shrug, leaving the space there as he moved his picture up by his head and out of the way in the event she accepted. Feigning disinterest, he closed his eyes, giving her the chance to make her decision without the pressure of his watching her.

Claire set the raisins down, licking her lips a moment in hesitation. Finally, though, the offer was too much, and she crept over, sliding to lie down on the cot with him she turned so she could face him. Luka didn't immediately open his eyes though he was not yet asleep. His breathing had yet to fully ease; a slight rattle audible with her so close. He did however move his arm, the silent invitation there for her to move into the safety of his hold if she wanted to.

She was stiff a moment, but then she slid over, lifting her head so his arm could go under and around her shoulders, and she rested her cheek against the shirt on his chest. Her shoulders trembled, and as she had warned, she started to cry, almost silently, into the material.

He did what he hadn't thought he could and his arm circled her, holding her tightly before he lifted the other hand to stroke her hair.."Shh...sleep now.." He whispered to her softly in Croatian.

"I'm scared, too.....of sleeping.." she said, between small sobs, and oddly, she kept speaking in the same language.

"No one can hurt you here..." He continued to stroke her hair, his words too quiet, and in his mind he knew he had made the same promise before and failed. Her hand fisted in the shirt material, as she quieted under the stroking, her crying quieting down. "Shh...shh..." He whispered to her the nonsense he had whispered so many nights to his daughter as he'd held her, knowing he had used them too for his wife, and gradually he felt her relax. Only when he was sure she slept did he stop. And at last, in thestillness of the tent, he allowed himself to fall asleep.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 27/38

by JD and Mel

Luka found himself watching Claire for sometime. At first simply holding her while she gave into the tears she had withheld for so long, then later offering soothing words he hoped would ease her closer to sleep. The narrow cot offered little room for two and he had turned to his side, giving her more of the limited space. Only when he was sure she was truly asleep did he allow himself the same luxury and with it came the memories of Danijela. Maybe it was Claire's closeness, the feel of her heart beating against his chest strengthening the memories. He drew her more tightly to him inhaling the smell of her shampoo..her soap...his fingers looped in a strand of Claire's hair without his realizing it, imagining it was Danijela he held in her place. The effect was better then any drug and though his breathing was still rough it came easier, his sleep far deeper then it had been in sometime.

The tent maintained the dim darkness as the sun outside crept higher and neither seemed to rouse to the change in the room, both of them asleep as they had been the past hour. The faint smell of tobacco smoke filled the tent.

Claire started to stir, as if she were coming out of a dream, shifting on the cot. She coughed once, at the tang of the smoke, and the leftover roughness in her throat from crying.

"Danijela...go back to sleep ..." His words came quietly in his native tongue, still lost to the world of half-sleep and not aware of where he was. His hand moved idly through her hair with his words in an attempt to soothe her again.

A rough hand closed over Luka's...one that was obviously not a woman's hand.

The touch of the hand jerked him into consciousness and his breath caught as his eyes flew open in panic, his mind immediately expecting the worst.

William was sitting on the stool, close to the cot. He was holding what looked like a long pipe in one hand, faint smoke coming from it, and his other hand was tight on Luka's although not painful. He wasn't smiling. "She's not your wife," he said, low but gentle.

Luka blinked twice...his eyes registering the man and the tent, and his mind scrambled to put the puzzle pieces into place. Claire lay next to him, her head on one arm while her own draped him, he closed then opened his eyes again as he tried to rationalize William's words. "I know." Even as he said them he knew for at least a moment he hadn't.

He let go of his hand, and straightened on the stool, placing the pipe back between his teeth. His eyes glittered a little, but otherwise his expression was unreadable.

"She didn't want to sleep..." He offered the explanation as if the words alone clarified everything the man was seeing.

William exhaled the tobacco smoke, absorbing the words. "You called her Danijela, in your sleep."

He rubbed his eyes...forcing himself fully awake. "My wife...I was dreaming of her."

"I see." Still holding the pipe in his teeth, he put his hand on Claire's shoulder, shaking it gently until she woke up.

She came awake, groggy, blinking eyes that felt sticky. They went first to Luka, whom she still had her arm over, then over to her father. "Poppa?" She carefully disentangled her arm from around Luka, swallowing.

As Claire moved Luka took the opportunity to raise up on his arm...turning enough to retrieve his cherished picture and pocket it before looking back at William.

William took another drag on the pipe with his breath, and let it out slowly, almost as if he were counting inwardly. "You should move over to my cot, Claire." His tone made it clear it wasn't a suggestion.

She glanced at Luka, her eyes seeming lost for a moment, then she got up and moved over to the other cot, sitting down on it.

He wet his lips, his own nervousness obvious, then gave her a nod with the look...before pulling himself up into a sitting position preparing himself for the consequences of his actions.

"Now," he started, calmly, still unsmiling. "What happened this morning, that I should find you two in the same cot?"

Claire lowered her eyes, drawing a leg up onto the cot. "I just couldn't sleep, Poppa.."

Luka wet his lips again, suddenly very dry...then glanced to Claire before looking back to William. "She was afraid to sleep...I thought...I thought..if I held her...like I would my daughter when she was frightened..." He stumbled over words in his nervousness then stopped as his voice broke with the image of Jasna coming to mind..

She raised her eyes to him, noticing the tremor in his tone, her expression pained.

"I thought it would help." He found himself at a loss of what else he could say and looked to Claire for help.

William chewed on the pipe a moment. "Apparently so." He let out a breath. "Claire, I want you to take a short walk with me. Luka, we'll be back in a few minutes."

He nodded and moved to the edge of the cot...already looking for his shoes as if expecting to be leaving.

Claire bit her lip, but rose as her father requested. William noticed the movement Luka made, but did not naysay it, instead just walking to the door and holding it open for Claire to step outside. Just before he followed, he said, firmly, "Don't remove the oxygen." He poked the pipe in Luka's direction to underscore his words.

Luka dropped his hand...readying to do just that as the man had turned his back.

He eyed Luka as one might do a wayward child, a mixture of irritation and affection, before putting the pipe back in his mouth. Once he was satisfied that Luka was staying put, he followed Claire, letting the tent flap fall back into place.

Not daring to challenge the man Luka simply sat...awaiting his fate, unsure what it held.

About fifteen minutes later,Claire reentered the tent, chewing at her lower lip. Her eyes were red from obvious crying, but oddly, she seemed much more at ease than she had before, except when she was asleep on his cot with him.

Luka sat where he had been when they left...the only difference being he now held the small photo of his wife and daughter in his hands.

She brushed a hair away from her cheek and sank onto the cot opposite him.

As Claire entered he pocketed it, and wiped his hand over his face, erasing the betraying signs of where his thoughts had been. "He's pretty mad?" He asked the question though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"Yes and no," she answered, giving him a thin, but warm smile. She started to say more, but William reentered the tent as well, still holding his pipe.

"Got your shoes on?'" he asked Luka.

Luka looked to the door as the man re-entered...then shook his head..."You said not to move."

A corner of William's mouth twitched, although it did not turn into a smile as yet. He merely nodded. "So I did. Well, I would like you to walk with me. I want to show you something."

"Okay..." He reached up to pull the oxygen tubing off then paused as if waiting for permission.

William waved his free hand, indicating heshould remove it.

He did just that before scooting forward to try and catch his shoes with his free foot to bring them closer.

Claire watched, wanting to say something, but obviously feeling like she couldn't.

William pushed over the shoes with one of his feet.

As he had them near he leaned forward putting the one on his good leg then untying the other before he stood to put it on...balancing on the bed as he did. That done he grabbed for the crutches and slid them under his arms. He drew a steadying breath and lifted his eyes to William. "Ready."

"You're getting better at that," William observed placidly, holding open the tent flap. "We'll be back soon, Claire. Try and lie down for a while."

He slowly followed William to the door..casting Claire a quick glance as he passed.

She returned it, a mixture of pain and gratitude.

William let the flap fall down behind him as he exited, then started off on the path that would lead towards the outskirts of camp.

Luka followed somberly...several paces behind...his eyes more on the ground then off. .

William moved slowly, drawing on the pipe. Finally, he said, "This is a difficult thing, Luka."

Already expecting the worst he shook his head. "I'll move into the big tent...I'm sorry...I just thought it might help..I didn't mean anything by it." He tossed the words out too quickly, hoping one of them might be what he needed to appease him.

"It's not that..." He took another slow breath. "And yet it is. I admit I was...upset when I came back to the tent." He looked speculatively at the pipe a moment, holding it away from him. "I decided to take the time to think before I woke you both up."

Luka paused to watch him...deciding maybe it was safer to say nothing for the moment.

"Since you are most likely curious, I did not scold Claire either, on our walk. I did tell her that she didn't need to hide things from me anymore...I am her father." He sighed, closing his lips over the pipe again, almost sadly.

He swallowed but continued to hold his tongue, sensing the man was only getting started.

"I...believe she is relieved that it's out in the open now, so to speak. Now she'll let me comfort her..." He turned to look at Luka. "And I know that I have you to thank for at least part of that."

He looked a little confused. "I don't understand."

William regarded him thoughtfully. "She told me you impressed upon her that a father has unconditional love for his daughter."

He swallowed the lump that formed with the man's words and then nodded.

"But that is also why this is difficult, Luka."

"I'll go to the tent...I can't keep hiding from things either." He made the offer before the man could tell him to go.

"Actually, I have other ideas. But that is not what I meant. It's more in regards to Claire in general...and your relationship with her."

"Relationship?" The word came quietly...he had to be misunderstanding the meaning. He touched the pocket that held the picture with his fingertip, unable to help feeling that the man thought somehow he had betrayed his vows to his wife and his family.

William nodded. "As glad as I am that you two are friends, sometimes that same closeness worries me." Taking a drag on the pipe, he added, "I do trust you, and I know that you won't hurt her, but I wonder if that closeness is keeping you from coming to terms with what happened to your family."

"My family is dead...I know that...I saw them..." His tone held a sharpness that seemed abnormal for him.

"And when you see Claire," he asked quietly, "you are not seeing a replacement for your dead wife, are you?"

He shook his head...stunned at what the man was saying. "My wife has been gone less then two months...I loved her...and my children."

"Not that kind of replacement, Luka. Not trying to erase that memory...but instead trying to cling to it."

"No one can replace them." His words held a stronger bite as the man touched a nerve.

"You are right. No one can."

"Their memory is all I have left of them...I need to hold onto it." He tried to regain control as he explained.

He put a hand on Luka's shoulder. "When a man loses those he loves, sometimes the instinct is to find the same contact again, to remind him what it felt like. It's not uncommon....not just with people here, but everywhere there is war. Do you understand what I mean? Having Claire around calms you, and some of that is because she is your friend. I only worry that the other part is because she reminds you of your wife. And that makes me more concerned for you.....not angry, Luka...concerned."

He tensed momentarily under the man's hand..then drew a shuddered breath. "She's not like Danijela...I'm not sure I'll ever know anyone like her again...but it's not like that...it's why I tried to keep her away...I don't know that I want to feel like that for someone again."

"Okay," he said soothingly, rubbing with his hand. "You probably won't ever know anyone enough like your wife, no. But I have to talk to you about these things. I don't think you are in danger of falling in love with anyone right now, even Claire, so you shouldn't worry about that. It's not in you to do that."

"Maybe it's better I not see her...I can go away...it'll be better for her." Better for me he thought, better I'm alone the way it's supposed to be. He could feel the hollowness opening inside him again with the thought.

"This isn't the same as feeling that way for a person all over again. It's just a response some people have, while grieving...a way to try and reconnect with what they lost. Well, now we come to it. Claire is not in the same position as you, obviously. She's close to you because she likes you, although don't worry...it's just friendship. Yet she needs to have room as well, especially now."

"I make her remember." He shifted his hand off the crutch to pull at the fabric of his shirt. "Every time she sees me she'll remember."

"And yet she stays around you. Doesn't that make you wonder, Luka? Why she does that?"

He dropped his eyes. "She still thinks I'll let myself die if she isn't near me."

"Maybe, although you are much farther from that now. No....I think she needs you a little, too."

"Am I? Even I don't know that."

"Than where you were? Yes....compared to before, I think you are anyway. If Claire is near you, you won't let yourself die?"

He dropped his eyes...not ready to concede that he was fully ready to live...

William took a pull of the smoke, letting it soothe him. "Claire feels like she can talk to you about what happened. That is why I think she still needs you."

He kept his eyes on the ground. "I know. But now she can talk to you."

He nodded. "She also needs to feel independent....back in control of her life. I think she needs to work again." He looked at Luka, his eyes serious. "Just like I think you need to work again."

That forced his eyes from the ground though maybe there was a hint of panic in the look. "I can't..."

"Why can't you?"

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 28/38

by JD and Mel

Luka was at a loss as to how to explain his fears or even his reasons for not wanting to start over yet again to the older man. Maybe all he wanted to do was disappear somewhere. Delaying his reply he swallowed and dropped his eyes to the rough path.

"You can always start small, Luka. But you can help, and you should."

He drew a breath and forced himself to look back at the man. "I tried to start over once before." The sense of failure was hard to conceal as he spoke.

"This isn't just starting over. I'm not asking you to do anything more than help, right now. Your health is improving every day, and you have the knowledge that not many of the volunteers have."

His jaw tightened a bit as he mulled the words over. "If I have to do it I will, but as soon as I'm able to leave I'm finished with it." He closed then opened his eyes, his words seeming to be a surprise even to himself, but for the moment he wasn't ready to rescend them.

"And where will you go?" William asked, quietly.

"It doesn't really matter does it?" The words held too much truth in them. It wasn't like he had a reason to be anywhere anymore. That thought prompted a deeper realization, no matter where he chose to go, he would still be alone.

William took a long pull on his pipe, then said, "I'm disappointed to hear you say that."

"Why? It's the truth. I don't have anywhere or anyone to go back to."

"I'm disappointed you look at helping others as some sort of penance, or chore. That you couldn't care less who needs you, as long as you get to go escape and hide," William said. His tone was flat.

He let his eyes drop to the ground again with the impact of the words...then shifted his weight on the crutches. When he raised his eyes again they held a hint of the dullness he'd been hiding behind in the month's since he'd lost his family."It's not like I'm a doctor... maybe I never would have finished anyway."

"I'm not very interested in maybes, Luka," he answered, his teeth still on the pipe. "I doubt you would have brought your family to Vukovar for your education if you thought that 'maybe' you wouldn't even finish. You're looking for excuses now."

"Things were different then...that was before I let my family die...before I ran away from the people I was supposed to be taking care of."

"And so now you are going to run away again?"

"I said I would do it."

"If you had to. Well, Luka, I don't need a volunteer who doesn't really want to help anyone, but is just there because I intimidated him. I can do without that."

"That's supposed to make me change how I feel? " He was surprised at the anger that seemed to be seeping into his words, when had he last felt that...to who? God? The weight pressed down harder upon him, how could he not blame the man for taking his family? He drew another breath.

"No, that's my refusal of your less-than-generous offer," he returned, unfazed by Luka's show of emotion. "Let me tell you something, Luka, because I like you. I do understand what you are going through, over your family. But your pain is no more special than anyone else's. You don't feel it so much stronger than anyone else here who's lost someone that you can ignore them all. If you want to persist in that, then don't help. Go to wherever it is you wish to go. But remember this too....as angry as I am right now, mostly from disappointment, I refuse to turn my back on you. If you want to leave, so be it....it will hurt me and it will hurt Claire, and you'll be missing out on helping your people. But we'll be waiting for you to come back." He clamped his teeth tightly over the pipe, stemming any more angry words.

He felt like he was in a hole with no way out...part of him wanting to allow himself to be buried and a smaller part wanting him to concede...but he couldn't...not yet. He tightened his hands on the crutches until his knuckles whitened.

After taking a long breath, William said, "I thought going to the men's tent might be too much for you, so I found a volunteer that you could share a tent with. His name is Thomas Grybowski. He's about your age....his tent is on this pathway."

"Why should I be any different then anyone else?"

"This isn't different. Thomas has room and no one living there. The men's tent is already getting cramped. If you don't want it, then I'll find someone else."

He released a breath. "I'll take it..."

William nodded, curtly. "He's expecting you whenever you are ready to go."

"I might as well do it now."

William turned his dark eyes to Luka, the gaze serious. "Listen to me, Luka. If you are going to leave as soon as you are able, then do the decent thing and say goodbye to Claire. I don't want to see her hurt."

It was his turn to nod. "I will."

His eyes bored into Luka's for a long moment, as if testing his resolve. "My offer stands, but I won't take your help with the patients unless you are willing. I don't want forced labor. And what I said about not turning my back is true." His lips moved, tightening a little. "I did my best to help you, but every parent has to come to a point where they let their kids go out on the own, to succeed or fail. I know you are not my son, and you do not see yourself as a kid, but that is how I feel. It's up to you to determine if you are going to sink or swim, Luka."

He let his eyes drop again...taking the words in before finally looking up. "Better go then."

"You don't want to go back to my tent for a little longer?"

"No reason to, you said I was getting around enough."

He set his jaw, as if he wanted to argue more, but he didn't. Instead, he nodded, and led Luka to one of the medium tents lined up along one side of the path they walked on.
He paused before one. "Remember what I said about Claire," he said, quietly but evenly.

Luka followed slowly...for the most part his eyes on the path afraid the man might see the sense of betrayal on the man's face that he was sure he must be feeling. Only as they reached the tent and William spoke did he finally look back up. "I will."

He sighed, his expression drawn. He knocked on the center support, and after a moment, a man nearly as tall as Luka came out of the flap, adjusting glasses on his nose.

Luka took the man's appearance in. Thomas was scarcely an inch shorter than he, and almost as thin, although it was obviously genetics and not starvation. His mouth was wide, in his pale face, with lanky blond hair hanging over his brow. He held out a long hand. "Luka, yes? Hullo!"

Shifting the hand off the crutch he took the offered hand with little enthusiasm. "Yes, Luka."

"I'm Thomas," he said, shaking his hand with a firm grip, oblivious of the balancing of the crutches. "You decided to take the empty spot?" He had a thick accent, not from the region.

"Yeah, thanks." His words lacked any emotion and were spoken more out of obligation then anything else.

Thomas waved his hands around, one automatically going to his glasses again. "No, thanking you...I'd like the company. Also, it's safer, having a partner." He shook his head. "Lost my old roomie...too many volunteers up and quit these days, can't take the conditions, you know."

He shook his head."Not really. I'm not a volunteer."

Thomas shrugged, as if it wasn't much consequence. "Still, be good company to have here. I'm not in the tent much, so you'll have some to yourself, but good to have another body around."

William blew out some smoke, and cleared his throat. "Luka's ready to stay, if you're fine with that, Thomas."

Thomas nodded. "I am. Welcome, you are, come on in." He clapped William on the shoulder. "Glad to help any friend of Dr. Northstar."

Luka nodded to his comments but saying little more then was necessary. When he withdrew his hand he tightened it on the crutch again. He looked to William. "Thanks for everything. I'll talk to Claire later."

William nodded, a little worn. "So be it. You know where to find me, should you want to." He smiled briefly at Thomas, then turned to walk away.

He watched the man walk away saying nothing else then waited for Thomas to go inside so he could follow.

Thomas ducked down, so he could enter the tent comfortably, and held open the flap for Luka.

Luka moved in as well then paused, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimness.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 29/38

by JD and Mel

Luka followed the man into the tent...his thoughts were everywhere, and he knew he needed time to figure out what had happened, what he had done to cause everything to unravel. The tent was smaller than the Northstars, although not by much. It held the same twin cots, with a three-legged table between them, with a lantern on top of it. At the end of each cot was a foor locker, one blue and one black. The blue one was open, on the left, and it showed a mixture of clothing and books. There was also a table off to the open space on the right, that had a plastic thermos and a small stack of plastic cups. Once inside he paused, waiting for the man to make the next move.

Thomas rubbed his hands together, with a genial smile. "As you can see, I've got the left cot...I made sure there was everything you needed in the right locker."

Luka looked over to him as he spoke. "Everything I need?"

Thomas nodded, his movements more broad and excitable than those of the Northstars. "Sheets, an extra blanket...only just enough to go around, really. I found a decent towel too."

"Oh...I don't need much.." He moved over to the cot with the words and took a seat before laying the crutches aside so he could work his shoes off.

Thomas took a seat on the other cot, sweeping a few random books off the small table between them. "Your welcome to any of my books, o'course."

"Thanks.." He voiced the word knowing he had no intention of making use of the offer. With both shoes off he leaned forward to slide them under the cot before lifting his injured leg onto it.

Thomas peered at him a little, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "All bandaged up, I see."

"Yeah.." Luka looked over before bringing the other leg up beside the first, though he didn't as yet lay down.

The man nodded, as if the simple word had answered all his questions. "You must be a good friend of the Northstars...but you're not American, are you?"

"I'm Croatian...and not really a friend...I met Claire when I was in the main hospital tent."

"Claire? Ah, that's the daughter, right? Not met her yet."

"Yeah..." He gave into a short cough then turned a bit to his side before laying down with his head on his arm. Once there he confirmed his picture was still in his pocket,
though he didn't pull it out.

"Well, Dr. Northstar himself is pretty nice guy, all around." Thomas swung his own legs up onto his cot, leaning on an elbow as he picked up one of his books. "Probably the whole family is like that."

Luka felt it safer to say nothing, his irritation with the older man's words still simmering too close to the surface. Maybe he could pretend to sleep...it had worked in the hospital, or at least it had with everyone but Claire, too bad he couldn't hide behind his language as well. He shifted slightly trying to get comfortable though his leg still throbbed from the day's exercise.

"Now, Dr. Northstar said you might be volunteering with the rest of us?" He eyed Luka a moment. "No offense to ya, but you look like maybe volunteering be too much right now."

"I told him if I have to do it I can." There was no enthusiam of the prospect in his tone.

Thomas chuckled. "We must be harder up than we thought, eh...putting the injured to work too.."

"Why are you here?" He asked the question quietly despite his better judgement.

Thomas opened his book, his left foot bouncing a little on the cot, to his own internal music. "Because I'm single and broke, and they needed doctors." He chuckled. "Isn't that what doctors do when they are at loose ends? Join up for war."

"I wouldn't know.." He touched his hand to his pocket again, as if somehow the picture might have disappeared in the short time since he had last checked. "I think I'm going to try and sleep."

"Gotcha," Thomas murmured, flipping a few pages of his book. "I'll try and be quiet."

Sleep, that was the laugh...escape..to the dreams that found his family alive if he was lucky. With the man's permission he he rolled over to his other side, his back to the man in the cot opposite and closed his eyes, shutting everything out with the act, if only he could shut his mind down as well. With the reclining came the coughing and he shifted first to his back then to his side again before it finally eased enough that he could finally sleep.

To be continued...

[FicWriter]

For One Life

Chapter 30/38

by JD and Mel

Things had settled into a monotonous routine since Luka had moved into the tent with Thomas. With the weather damp, he'd found it easy to stay in bed until late morning, once awake he would force himself outside, a trip to the showers and his once a day visit to the mess tent. It was easier that way, the fewer people he had to face the better. If only he could find a way to get Thomas to understand that he wanted little more then to be left alone. He'd begun to take a longer route back to the tent after the midday meal, a part of him hoping that the man would be gone when he returned. Not that he didn't appreciate the privacy of the smaller tent of course, but all he wanted out of the arrangement was the bed. As he reached the tent he pulled the flap aside so he could enter and stepped inside.

Thomas looked up, pushing his glasses back on his nose in that familiar gesture. "Hey...there you are."

"Yeah..." He moved over and carefully sat...cautious of sudden movements to the newly unbraced knee.

He laid his book aside on the table, face down with the pages splayed out. "You know, if I had a girl that pretty talking to me all the time, I'd say more than 'yeah' once in a while." He grinned toothily.

He looked a little confused by the man's comments. "What?"

Thomas tapped his left foot on the floor, where it rested. "That girl...Claire? Yes, her. I got to meet her."

"Oh.." He started to lean forward to pull his shoe off, he didn't want to think about Claire and how badly he had messed things up...better she forget about him anyway.

"She dropped something off for you." He pushed a wrapped bundle towards him, where it was resting on the small table.

He left the shoe untied and sat up...reaching for the package as if it might somehow explode in his hands. Laying it on his lap he slowly opened it.

Thomas sat up, his curiosity evident.

He lifted the small things out first...the razor...soap and a toothbrush..then sat them on the bed as his eyes widened before he withdrew a tee and a pair of grey sweatpants. He swallowed before replacing them back on the paper. "She look okay?" He asked the question quietly as he fingered the items.

Thomas merely raised an eyebrow, interested but not thinking it was all that special. "She looked pretty fine to me...not that I know what she might have looked like before. Was she injured or something?" He screwed up his forehead, thinking. "She had a limp. That's about it. Twisted an ankle maybe?"

Only then noticing the item that had slipped onto the cot without his having seen it. He retrieved the cocoa pouch then lay it on top with the rest. "Yeah..something like that."

Thomas glanced over the items again. "Is that everything you needed? Because she seemed keen to talk to you."

He looked over to him. "She said that?"

Thomas nodded, pushing the glasses back then lacing his fingers together. "She was real disappointed that you were out, said she didn't have much time or something. Then she said that she was hoping to talk to you."

He sat the package over on the table. "She say where she would be?" He leaned forward to retie his shoe with the question.

Thomas shrugged. "I said I didn't think you wanted to go anywhere....you stayed in the tent alot. I guess she's back at her own tent." He glanced to the flap of the tent. "Getting late anyway."

He nodded and reached for the crutches to pull himself up. "Doesn't matter maybe..." He started for the door.

"What doesn't matter?"

"The time."

"Ah. Have fun then. I didn't realize you two were still friends..."

As he reached the door he pulled the flap aside...swallowing his response before exiting. Were they friends? He made his way through the camp slowly, ignoring the chill coming with evening, by the time he reached the row which housed the Northstar's tent though he was having doubts, what if her Father was there? What if it was her turn to tell him good-bye." He hesitated a few tents away..eyeing it and trying to make up
his mind as to whether he should continue or turn around. Drawing a breath he released it and approached...pausing again at the door. "Claire?" When there was no answer, he wet his lips and looked around before moving forward and lifting back the flap enough to look inside. "Claire?" The tent was empty, and somewhat sparser than usual. The foot lockers were closed, and the sheets on the cots were undisturbed. The water
pitcher was gone although the cups were there. Behind him, footsteps sounded, quick and hurried. He turned to the sound of the footsteps letting the flap close behind him, readying his excuse for whoever it might be.

An older man, with a heavy, gray beard and darker skin approached, carrying a child no more than two in his arms. "Doctor?" he said, in Croatian. His eyes were wide, and he panted a little. "I am looking for the woman-doctor, who speaks Croatian..." The child in his arms, a little boy, wasn't moving, his eyes closed.

"They're not here..." His eyes moved to the boy, not much older then Marko would have been..the lump rose. "What's wrong with the boy?" His words had naturally returned to his native tongue. "Bring him inside..."

The man seemed relieved he spoke the familiar language. "My grandson.." he offered, holding the boy a little away from his chest so Luka could see him. "He was being treated for infection....I was just feeding him."

He pushed the tent open and moved inside..."Put him on the bed...what was he eating?"

"He doesn't eat much." Tears welled in the man's eyes. "He only likes the things he can't have. I think he had found some candy, from one of the other children."

He followed him in, going over to Claire's cot and setting the boy down. He moved to the footlocker...then glanced back to the door before opening it and pulling a stethescope and some forceps out before returning to the boy.

"He went to run outside....he was fussy and upset all day, and kept crying too. Then when I go look, I find him behind the tent, all quiet like this." The man bit his knuckles, disraught.

Easing himself down on the cot Luka dropped the crutches on the floor before settling the scope in his ears. Opening the boys shirt he listened to his chest...then frowned setting them aside. "He's having troubled breathing.." He picked the boy up, trying to rouse him. "What's his name?"

"Matte." He hovered, looking over Luka's shoulder. "I looked in his mouth, I saw nothing. He said all day that he didn't feel well, but I thought he was just bored."

He lay him back down then tilted his head slightly before picking the forceps up...biting his lip he slipped them into the small boy's mouth...reaching almost too deep it seemed...

The old man kept his hand over his mouth, pulling at his beard a little with his worry.

"Something is there." He leaned closer to the boy as he maneuvered for it and finally withdrew a half chewed taffy. As it came free the boy began to cough and Luka lifted him up again...rubbing his back slowly. It was then he felt the small lump on the back of his neck...brushing his hair aside he looked at it. "You said he isn't eating?"

His grandfather fell on him, taking up his hands and kissing them repeatedly, overcome with relief. "Yes.....he is fussy." He smoothed the boy's hair with a gnarled hand, tears in his eyes.

The boy, startled and pained, started to cry, although he was comforted by the old man.

The bite was red and raised. "He's been bit by something...maybe allergic...take him to the hospital tent...show the older woman Doctor...Angelique. Can you remember that...the French Doctor." He released the boy to the Grandfather before leaning forward to retrieve the discarded crutches so he could stand.

"A bite?" He leaned forward, looking at the reddened spot. "Oh, you poor child," he cooed, gathering his grandson back into his arms. "Of course you did not feel well....I should have noticed that." He looked up at Luka, rising to stand. "Thank you, Doctor. I
did not know what to do...he is all my family."

"I'm not a Doctor...now go, you should hurry."

He nodded. "I will go. But even if you are not a doctor, I am grateful that you could help us. Thank you again." He clasped Luka's free hand tightly, his eyes still moist, then turned away with the little boy, hurrying to the main med tent.

With the man gone he gathered the equipment up and carried it back to the footlocker... wiping each off on his shirt before replacing them. As there was another sound of footsteps at the flap of the tent, he shut the lid turning towards the entrance, already readying himself for the consequences.

William ducked into the tent, looking fatigued. He drew up short as he saw Luka in there already. Lifting an eyebrow, he said, "Luka? Is something wrong?" He set down the medical bag, but his eyes didn't scan the tent, not wanting to imply Luka was a thief.

"Someone was here looking for you...an old man and his grandson...I sent them to Angelique." The chewed taffy still lay on the now rumpled cot and he picked it up as he spoke. "I was looking for Claire....I can go."

"Ah....they needed a doctor?" He seemingly ignored the comment about Claire.

The way he was holding his leg made it obvious he had removed the splints since leaving the Northstar's tent. "Yeah....the boy was hardly breathing...he'd swallowed candy he had found."

Immediately, William shifted into doctor mode. "An obstruction in his airway? But you got it out, yes?"

"I had to get in your trunk.." As he explained he began to slowly ease his way to the door.

William nodded, quickly. "Yes, all the equipment is in there. Now I am glad I left it all. What had he swallowed?" William hadn't moved much farther, so he still was within the
escape path.

Luka opened his hand to reveal the taffy. "Chewy candy..he was a small boy." Small... like Marko..too small for that candy. His mind twisted itself with thoughts he didn't want
to have.

William nodded, a little to himself. "Good thing you were there, then. How is your leg? I don't see the splint.."

"I took it off...needed to shower."

"Of course...wasn't meant to be permanent." He regarded him still, the same shrewd look. "And it's healing well?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't hurt too bad."

"Good, good." He took off his coat, lying it over the foot locker before picking up a tissue and extending his hand for the taffy."Candy...strong temptation. Now, how is it with Thomas?"

"It's okay..it's a bed."

William sighed, depositing the candy in a small wire trashcan beside the main table. "As talkative as ever. I admit I was worrying about you."

"You don't have to." He released the man from blame even as he was unable to hide the dullness that had crept back in his eyes, the same as it was when he first arrived.

"You don't worry about people because you have to," William said, gently. "You do it because you care about them."

He fidgeted a bit with the crutches. "I'm sorry I messed things up...it's probably better I'm not here anyway."

William rubbed at his eyes a moment, then the bridge of his nose. "No, you didn't mess anything up, Luka. Perhaps I was too harsh with you. All this going on around us..." He let it trail off.

He sighed quietly not sure what to say to the man and sure he had ruined whatever had been there. "I should go, it's getting dark."

"Why did you come to see Claire?" William asked, quietly. "Have you decided to leave?"

"She brought some things by..I wasn't there when she did...thought I should thank her."

"Is that all, then?"

" No, I wanted to see how she was doing too..."

"Okay.." He moved over and sat on his cot, with a small grunt of tiredness. "You can always come back and see her later."

"Sure..." He used the man's moving away as his escape and walked closer to the door. "Night."

"Luka.." he called.

He stopped and turned back at his name.

"Are you going to come back to see her?" he asked, his tone serious. "I'm not going to tell her you are, and have her get her hopes up. She's barely spoken to me since you left." That last was said with a wry half-smile.

"I still need to thank her."

"Very well," the man conceded. "And you can always come speak to me, you know. I miss adult conversation." He shook his head.

"Lots of people here to talk to..." Too many he wanted to say especially when you didn't want to talk.

"Alright, Luka," he relented. He looked up, his gaze more worn than usual. "I won't force you to do anything, anymore. I said I would let you alone, and I will, if that's what you want."

There it was..the hinge he couldn't know...if Danijela had forced him to leave his family would be alive...if his teacher hadn't forced him to leave he would be dead...he had to be forced...his decisions were always the wrong ones. "I'd better go..." He moved to the flap again

"Goodbye, Luka."

He nodded, a slow goodbye, then disappeared silently into the darkness...

To be continued...