He would be home soon, he told himself, willing his sore muscles to relax despite the cramping in his legs and lower back.

Home.

Staring out of the plane window, he looked down at the tiny lights below, indicating a city. Could be Milwaukee, he assumed recalling the map and leaned his head against the vibrating window. Soon, they'd touch down in Chicago. He shook his head minutely at the thought.

Chicago wasn't home. America wasn't home. Not really, no matter how long he would live and work here.

Luka sighed deeply again, blinking rapidly as his emotions drove to the surface. After one month in The Hague as a witness of the International Tribunal against War Crimes, he felt drained. Images of unspeakable atrocities, which he thought he'd buried deep enough into a remote corner of his mind, came back to him with a vengeance. He felt lost, wondering how he'd managed to survive those four weeks in Europe without going insane.

He'd lost his humanity.

How could anyone claim to be a human being after reciting gruesome stories and verifying hard facts which could not be fathomed by an innocent, ignorant bystander? Was he still human?

Luka rubbed his eyes. The thoughts kept coming from all sides. Each corner, each little drawer of hidden memories in his brain supplied the one or other information he didn't want to deal with anymore. Voices tormented him, he could hear his children begging him to take them with him to the market place. Then there was the sound, the unmistakable whistle of artillery fire and… Luka squeezed his eyes shut while pressing his head against the plane window. No matter how hard he tried his vivid mind brought to light what he had so desperately wanted to bury in the darkness.

***

It was the calm before the storm. Kerry Weaver looked around the ER. It was too quiet. At 2.30 a.m. the place was usually crowed with patients, coming in after the most impossible accidents. Tonight, however, it was eerily silent.

"It looks like a ghost town here," Carter remarked as he put the last chart back into its place. "What's going on tonight? Nobody wants to get sick?" He snorted, and then shook his head. "Eerie."

Kerry nodded, adding her signature to a purchase order of syringes and reaching for the next. "At least there's time for some paper work," she murmured.

"Yeah, there's that," Carter sighed, looking around once more to see if there might be somebody in need for medical help. "It's not even snowing for crying out loud," he commented, as he recalled their last quiet day at the ER after an avalanche of snow had poured down on Chicago some time ago.

"Kerry, there's a phone call for you on line 3." Abby stuck her head around the corner. "Somebody from O'Hare," she added with a confused frown.

"Thanks, Abby," Kerry abandoned her paper work and reached for the telephone. "This is Dr. Kerry Weaver," she spoke into the receiver. Even before the person on the other end of the line began to speak, her instincts told her that this was about Luka. Her young subordinate was due back from his ordeal in the Netherlands tonight… Last night, she corrected herself.

"Pardon the late intrusion, ma'am," a male voice said. "My name's Jim Nichols, officer with the immigrations office at O'Hare airport. We have a man in custody who claims to be one of your employees. Luka Kovac." He abused the foreign name to the best of his ability.

"It's Kovac," Kerry corrected immediately. "What do you mean you have him in custody?"

"There are some problems with his documents, ma'am," Nichols informed, sounding bored. "We need somebody to vouch for him."

"I'll be right there," Kerry promised. "Just, let him be. He's been through a lot," she added, knowing Nichols probably wouldn't give a damn about an opinion over the phone. Kerry hung up and shrugged out of her lab coat.

"What's going on?" Carter asked after over-hearing the one-sided conversation.

"Some idiot at immigrations," she hissed between teeth. "Probably was bored and thought it was about time to harass somebody."

"Luka?" Carter shook his head. "This isn't the first time he's re-entered the United States."

Kerry nodded. "Exactly. That's why this is probably just about some idiot at immigrations," she repeated. She turned around. "Abby, I need Luka's personnel file."

"Need backup?" Carter offered but Kerry shook her head.

"I'll be fine, John. This is not the first time I've dealt with…"

"… idiots at immigration," Carter finished and grinned. "I hear you. Still, if you need help or somebody vouching for Luka's integrity, give me a call."

Kerry smiled, while reaching out to accept the file Abby handed her. "I'm sure Luka would appreciate it."

"Can I go with you?" Abby asked quietly.

"I can handle this, Abby, but thanks."

"I know but… I just want to make sure he's alright," Abby explained.

Kerry stuffed the file into her bag. "He'll be alright, Abby. Don't worry." She touched her arm briefly and then turned on her heel to leave the ER.

***

It was almost a quarter to four when Kerry finally reached the airport. Traffic had been horrid and Kerry wondered why on earth it was so quiet in the ER while all nutcases were out on the road that night. Once in the terminal, it took another twenty minutes before she was allowed to see Luka.

Officer Nichols, indeed bored, and with a vicious gleaming in his eyes, accompanied her to an interview room. "We are still verifying his passport and visa," he said lamely. "He couldn't provide us with a copy of his Legal Alien status and…"

"I've got a copy right here." Kerry pulled the document from Luka's personnel file and shoved the paper into his hands.

"I need to verify this, ma'am," Nichols pointed out as he opened the door.

"Then do it now!" Kerry demanded her voice sharp and commanding.

Kerry stepped into the room and almost stopped dead in her tracks. Years of experience as a medical doctor had prepared her for many gruesome sights but there was nothing that could've steeled her for the heart-breaking image before her.

Slumped in a hard plastic chair, Luka didn't look up at the sound of the opening door. He might have been asleep if it weren't for the occasional shudder that coursed through his body as if he was cold. He'd lost weight. His tall frame seemed to drown in the clothes which looked at least one size too large. Dark circles of fatigue and stress darkened his eyes and the heavy stubble on his face reflected the long period of time he'd been on his feet today.

At the gentle tapping of her cane as Kerry walked towards him, Luka slowly looked up, blinking his eyes as if waking up from a dream. Recognition dawned in his dark eyes and a tired smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"Luka, it's good to see you," Kerry whispered, afraid any loud words would shatter the seemingly frail body. She smiled, too, hoping to assure him that everything would be alright soon.

"I'm sorry, Kerry, I didn't know who else to call," Luka said slowly, his exhaustion making his accent more prominent. "They said they needed some more documents." He closed his eyes briefly and blinked again to look at Kerry. "I'm really sorry."

"They've got everything they need now," Kerry assured him. "It won't take long for them to verify it. Don't worry, you'll be home soon." She gently patted his arm. It was then when she noticed the steel handcuffs encircling his wrists.

"Why the hell is he in handcuffs, officer?" Kerry turned around to look at Nichols.

Nichols shrugged, looking up from the documents Kerry had given him. "He was reluctant to follow orders and resisted surrendering his belongings." He shrugged again. "I'm sure you're aware of our country's current political situation, ma'am," he added.

"I wasn't resisting," Luka said quietly. In fact he had willingly supplied all the documents they had asked for, from passport to his unnecessary vidoe store card, but he had not been fast enough. Before he knew what was happening, Nichols and his colleagues had grabbed his hand luggage and his wallet and roughly cuffed him.

"I request that you take off those handcuffs, Officer Nichols," Kerry demanded coldly. "Now!"

"Kerry…," Luka began in a low voice. "It's okay. Let him do his job."

"Do his job?" Kerry looked at Luka incredulously. "He's treating you like a damn terrorist." She turned back to Nichols. "Take those cuffs off now, officer, or Dr. Kovac will file a law suit you won't be able to even fathom the implications of." Her eyes blazed with anger.

Luka closed his eyes as her sharp voice grated on his nerves. Though he was grateful for her presence nonetheless. Leave it to Weaver, he thought. She always had an answer, always knew what to do. He relaxed a bit more, knowing she'd take care of him and the situation. He was so tired...

"Luka?"

He jerked awake, staring confused at the woman in front of him. "What?" he rasped and rubbed at his eyes. Belatedly he noticed that his wrists were free, the handcuffs gone. "Kerry?" He looked at his superior quizzically, wondering how the hell she'd gotten there.

"We can go now, Luka," Kerry said gently.

"Go where?" He asked, as his exhausted mind still struggled to put together the events of the last few hours together.

Kerry smiled. "Let's go home."

"Home?" he echoed, looking around in confusion. Then he remembered the long flight back to the United States and the unexpected welcome he'd received at the airport. He struggled to his feet and was grateful for the hand that grabbed his elbow in guidance.

"We're truly sorry, Dr. Kovac," Officer Nichols said, "We were just following procedures, sir. I hope you'll understand that the safety..."

"Don't worry about it, officer," Luka dismissed his words with a shake of his head. "No harm done."

"You might hear from us," Kerry threatened in her stern voice, shooting an ice-cold glance at the airport employee.

***

In the east, the horizon began to colour warmly as Kerry stopped her car in front of the apartment building where Luka lived. A cool breeze wavered from the lake, making her shiver. She looked over to her charge and smiled hesitantly.

"We're there, Luka," she pointed out as Luka made no attempt of exiting the car.

A sigh escaped his lips and he nodded slowly. "Thank you, Kerry." He turned his head to look at her. "Did you bring my schedule?" he asked with his hand on the door handle.

Kerry made a dismissive gesture. "We can talk about it later. Get some rest and call me this evening. Then we'll go through your shifts."

"I can do the night shift, if you want," Luka offered although he wondered how he would manage to get up the stairs to his apartment, let alone work a 12 hour shift later. "Just need a hot shower and I'll be there."

"I know you would be, but we've got it all covered," Kerry assured him. She made a mental note to talk to Romano before he could start harassing Kovac for missing another day of work. Seeing the hesitation on Luka's face, she added, "Carter and Lewis are there. We'll be okay." She touched his arm and pushed him playfully.

"Get out!"

"Thank you, Kerry. I don't know how to make it up to you yet but if there's anything I can do for you – anytime – just let me know." The English words started to jumble in his head and he had to concentrate to complete the sentence. He squeezed his eyes for moment and finally opened the door. "Good night."

"Good night," Kerry called after him. It was on the tip of her tongue to add a 'sweet dreams' but one look at the drawn features and the raw emotions in his eyes gave her a clear indication about the nightmare he'd endured the last few weeks. No, she corrected herself realizing that she could not imagine in the slightest the ordeal he'd suffered. She watched with a worried frown as Luka walked slowly, almost limping, towards the apartment building.

***

A sharp pain shot through his lower back. Luka gasped and blindly reached for the wall for support. Leaving his heavy suitcase at the bottom of the stairs, he had only managed a few steps before his bad leg gave out. He closed his eyes, breathing harshly. He tried to take a deep breath but the agony in his back and leg was too much to be relieved through his usual breathing exercises alone. Luka grabbed the handrail and slowly pulled himself up the remaining flight, one agonizing step at a time. His mind started to shut down, he wanted to curse, he wanted to cry but he couldn't find the strength anymore to do more then react to the pain.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally reached the top of the stairs. He fumbled for his keys, blinking to clear his vision yet again. His hands shook violently as he unlocked the door.

Cold air greeted him when Luka stepped into his apartment. The furnace must be down, his tired brain concluded. However, too exhausted to even consider calling his landlord, he shuffled into the bedroom. Stumbling once over a pair of sneakers, he groaned as the unforeseen jolt sent spikes of pain through his body. He sat down on his bed, his eyes closed already. Without bothering with his shoes or coat, he laboriously crawled under the blanket. Sleep caught up with him immediately, taking him back to the dark place where his demons waited for him like vultures, picking at his soul and eating at his sanity.

***

Through the fog of sleep he could hear voices. Luka squeezed his eyes shut, willing them to disappear because he knew they'd only bring back pain and despair. He'd heard enough, seen enough. With the voices, the pictures rushed back to him. Relentlessly, they began to haunt him again like they had during those four weeks in The Hague. Pictures of destroyed houses, just like his own; pictures of dead children, just like his own; pictures of torn bodies, just like… Danjiela's.

With a start Luka jerked awake, his heart thundering in his chest.

Dim sunlight bathed his bedroom and chased the painful pictures away for a moment. However, the voices remained, talking in hushed tones next door. The voices even spoke English.

Luka shook his head to clear the cobwebs of sleep. He could clearly hear the voices now. Somebody was in his apartment. He struggled to get up, pausing momentarily as his back and leg protested the sudden movements. It was then when he noticed that he was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt. His clothes hung over a chair in a neat pile. He shook his head again.

What had happened? What…?

The voices chuckled next door and, suddenly, went silent as if feeling guilty for waking him. Slowly, Luka pushed himself off the bed and limped towards the door. His glance fell onto the alarm clock by the bed.

5.21 p.m.

What day was it? Rubbing his face tiredly, Luka turned the door handle and stepped into the living room. There he stopped dead in his tracks as four pairs of eyes riveted on him.

Kerry.

Haleh.

Abby.

Carter.

They smiled at him, looking at him expectantly and yet worried.

"Did we wake you?" Abby asked, exchanging a concerned look with her colleagues. "We tried to be quiet but Carter…"

"Yeah, I just told 'em an old story my gamma used to tell us every year at Thanksgiving." Carter nodded, then pressed his lips together. "Sorry, man, we didn't mean to wake you."

Luka shook his head. "No…, no it's okay. I… you didn't wake me," he reassured them, still puzzled at their being here.

"It's good to have you back, Dr. Kovac," Haleh smiled warmly. "We brought some food and supplies and if you're a good boy you'll even get desert." Her smile faltered a bit as he frowned.

"What…," he cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?"

It was Kerry who answered this time. "Your landlord kindly let us in when we explained the situation."

Carter chuckled. "Don't believe a word she's saying, Luka. Kerry didn't 'explain' the situation, she barked an order and the guy shook like a leaf in the wind and opened the door for us."

Luka nodded mutely, still waiting for the answer to his question.

"How are you feeling?" Abby walked towards him.

"I'm fine," Luka replied. He swallowed hard as Abby stood on her toes to hug him gently. She placed a kiss on his cheek while stroking the other with her hand.

"I'm glad you're back," she whispered, emotions choking her words.

He returned the embrace. "It's good to be back." He tenderly kissed hair and simply held on.

"Dr. Weaver was of the opinion that you looked a little ragged this morning and she wanted to make sure you were okay," Haleh supplied the answer Kerry had not provided yet. "We volunteered to help her out."

Kerry smiled broadly. "Well, actually, this is just a little contingent of helpers. Lewis, Corday, Chen and Malucci wanted to come over, too, but somebody has to mind the store."

Abby smiled. "Yeah, Frank and Jerry were about to start a fight who would get to deliver the cake." As Luka tightened his hold on her, she looked up worriedly. Not that she minded the closeness, but it seemed like he was hanging on to her with all his might. She could feel the quivering muscles in his back.

"Hope you'll like our little care package," Carter spread his arms. "We got everything your heart might desire." He counted off his fingers. "We've got roasted chicken, fried potatoes, a noodle salad, a veggie salad, mouse au chocolate, a cheesecake NY style…"

"Luka?" Abby whispered, searching his face. "What is it?"

The tall man incredulously shook his head. "You…," he tried to clear his throat, overwhelmed by the help of his friends. "You're most certainly crazy." His accent was thick, his dark eyes shining with more than gratitude.

"Of course we are," Carter agreed. "Otherwise a nutcase like you wouldn't be working with us. And I surely wouldn't have undressed a sane ER doctor." He winked at Luka.

They all shared a good-natured laugh.

Luka let go off Abby. "Takes one to know one," he needled at Carter. He took a step forward to look at the array of food they had prepared for him.

"Do I smell garlic?" He smiled, looking at Kerry for confirmation. He knew his superior had long found about his dedication to spicy food.

"Among other things," Kerry nodded, pleased with herself.

"The whole car smells," Haleh pointed out and the little group laughed again.

"This is incredible," Luka said. "I don't know what…" As he took another step forward, an excruciating pain shot through his bad leg. Luka cried out in pain and surprise, reaching for the next best support. He found Abby's arm but as his leg gave out, she couldn't prevent him from collapsing to the floor.

"Luka!" Abby and Kerry shouted his name simultaneously.

"What is it, Dr. Kovac?" Haleh jumped off the couch, however, she was intercepted by Carter who crouched down beside him.

It had all happened within a couple of seconds and before Luka's pained brain could offer any explanation, he could feel their hands touching him, feeling for his pulse, checking for hidden injuries. He gasped, gulping in air while trying to fight the tremendous pain in his leg.

"Haleh, call an ambulance," Carter ordered.

"N-no!" Luka rasped. "J-j-just a c-cramp…, just a cramp." He tried to reach for his leg but Abby pushed his hands away gently.

"Try to relax, Luka." She smiled reassuringly. "Take deep breaths…"

Immediately Carter changed his initial course of action and touched Luka's foot. Placing his hand at the sole of the foot, he carefully pushed the toes towards Luka's body.

Luka moaned in pain and threw his head back. Somewhere he could see Kerry hovering over him while Abby stroked his cheeks and forehead.

"You'll have to relax, Luka," Kerry advised, throwing a look at Carter.

"Push against my hand, Luka," Carter ordered as he applied more pressure to the foot.

Luka squeezed his eyes shut. "C-can't," he gasped while the pain cursed through his leg into his back.

"YES, you CAN!" Kerry's sharp voice came from above. "You know the drill, Dr. Kovac, the pain won't go away by itself, you hear me?"

Luka summoned his strength and tried to press his foot against Carter's torturing hand. The pain was intense, sending waves of fire through his body. Gritting his teeth, he pushed harder and harder until the muscle spasm slowly subsided.

Carter nodded. "That's it, Luka. Can you feel it? It's getting better, isn't it?" With his free hand, he tenderly touched the cramping calf. The muscle was hard like a rock.

Luka flinched at Carter's touch but the cramps were gone now and a deep muscle ache remained. "Oh my God," he breathed.

"Relax, Luka," Carter said, his tone gentler this time. He ran his hand over the leg. "You're still too tense, buddy. It might come back."

"I know," Luka nodded, exhaustion crawling up his body after the fierce battle with pain. "It's… not the first time," he confessed. He could feel the sweat running down his face.

"Old war injury, huh?" Carter joked unthinkingly and Kerry shot him a warning glance..

"Yeah, you could say that." Luka sighed heavily while trying to sit up.

"Luka…," Abby warned, but Luka shook his head.

"I'm okay." He bent forward to touch his leg. "It hasn't happened in a long time. I think… I've overdone it the last few weeks." He suddenly smiled sadly. "Pride can be a vicious enemy."

Carter looked up into the troubled dark eyes of his colleague. "Some would call it dignity," he corrected softly.

Luke shook his head. "I don't think I have any left," he mumbled.

"Well… we never really agreed on anything, right?" Carter replied quietly and then smiled.

Luka sighed again, feeling Abby's body behind him. He leaned into the soft support gratefully. "Thank you," he said, looking alternately at Carter, Kerry and Haleh. He turned his head slightly to catch Abby's smiling face. "Thank you all."

"What are friends for?" Kerry beamed at him.

"I mean… not for this," he vaguely gestured at his leg. He winced slightly while Carter started massaging the hurting muscle. "I mean… yes… but I… you… have no idea how much… it means to me…" Luka clenched his jaw as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. "… to come… come … home."

A single tear pearled down his cheek. It was good to be home.

The End

Acknowledgement: Thanks to J.D. for her quick beta. Her struggles with the questions marks were greatly appreciated (inside joke, folks).

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