Mecheal came into Luka's hospital room.

"Janko?" She said again, a smile on her face. "That's a pretty funny name." Luka looked at her curiously; then he realized that she didn't want Carol to get suspicious.

"It's a good Croatian name," Luka countered, feigning indignation. "Janko. Jerko. Bozo- I even had a cousin named Dinko. All perfectly good names." Carol was stifling a laugh.

"Hey," Luka continued. "They may sound funny to you, but some American names sound pretty funny to me, too- Keanu, Moon Unit, Malik..."

"I'm sure Malik would appreciate that," Carol chuckled.

"I knew a Croat named Ljutomisl once- Ljutomisl Kukoc." Mecheal put in. She narrowed her eyes, and Luka knew she was telling him her husband's name, but he still couldn't place her. Instead, Luka just shrugged.

"Some names sound the same," he added. "Like Viktor- and girl's names are very pretty- Ana, Maja, Emma..." Mecheal smiled and nodded; she knew just whom he was talking about.

"Ljutomisl's wife was Hicela- I think that was pretty. And her mother lived with them, too- her name was Natalija." It wasn't helping- Luka still couldn't place her, couldn't tell remember any Hicela or Natalija from back then...

"I take it you two know each other, " Carol said with a smile.

"Carol-I'm sorry, " Luka said. He had almost forgotten she was there; he was so involved in trying to remember Mecheal/Hicela. "This is Mecheal- she works in the ER here."

"Luka worked here a few times last fall," Mecheal explained. "I was so surprised when they brought him in last night- it's hard to work on someone you know. And he gave us quite a scare."

"Mecheal was a big help to me," Luka said gratefully, smiling at her. Carol looked at them curiously; she could sense there was something going on between Luka and Mecheal, but she didn't press it.

"Just doing my job," Mecheal answered modestly. "You know how it is, don't you Carol?" Carol nodded.

"Hey," Carol said, "Didn't I meet you at a seminar last year?" Mecheal looked at her for a minute.

"Yeah- I think so. 'Keep Staph away from your Staff', right- only you were just a bit pregnant."

Luka lay back and closed his eyes, listening to the women chat. He had been energized by the name-game he'd played with Mecheal, but now he felt so tired again. He thought of Hicela and Ljutomisl and Natalija- the names seemed familiar, but why? How did he know them- if he did know them? And Mecheal seemed harmless, seemed friendly- but she knew his secrets, knew his past, and that frightened him. Luka had thought that killing Karel would mean he was free, mean he was safe- but instead it was leading to new problems. The blood was coming back; the lids on his boxes were rattling, threatening to explode once again...

"Luka," Carol said softly. "I'm going to go now- you get some rest, okay? I'll come back another day." Luka forced his boxes shut again, forced the memories away before he opened his eyes.

"Okay, Carol," he answered tiredly. "Thanks again for the -what did you call them- toiletries. They'll come in handy." He felt so exhausted again; his side was aching, and he reached for it without thinking. He just wanted to be alone, but he knew that Mecheal would stay; she needed to explain why she knew him. He just hoped it was something he wanted to hear.

"You take care," Carol said from the door. "I'll see ya."

"Kiss the girls for me," Luka managed, and then he was alone with Mecheal. He looked at her warily, not knowing what to expect.

"Mecheal," he started.

"Sshh," she said. She bent down closer to him and whispered in Croatian, "It's okay, I'm a friend." Luka relaxed ever so slightly, still not completely trusting her.

"I thought you looked familiar when you first worked her," Mecheal continued. "But I was afraid to say anything to you. I couldn't place you; I didn't recognize your name. And so many terrible things happened back then..." Mecheal stopped; her eyes seemed far away. Luka knew she was remembering some horror; he had felt that way too many times. Finally she took a deep breath and went on.

"I-I had to be sure you were someone-safe," she explained, "And not one of-*them*." She looked him in the eyes, as if hoping he would understand, and Luka knew she was referring to Karel and his band.

"I took a chance this morning- I guessed that Karel was your enemy too- why else would he try to kill you?" Karel was dancing before him again; Luka squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force him away, but it wasn't working- it took too much energy. Mecheal brushed his hair back, trying to soothe him, and it helped chase the demon away.

"It's okay," Mecheal repeated softly. "You're safe now." Luka hoped she was right.

"When I heard Carol say your name- when I heard 'Janko Pavic', I knew." Mecheal went on. "You grew your hair long, changed your name, that's what confused me. But when I realized who you were, I knew why you wanted Karel dead." Luka studied Mecheal's face again, but he still didn't know her, not from before- he only knew her as a nurse here at Mercy.

"I knew Emma," Mecheal explained, answering his unasked question. "Not very well, but a bit. My mother- Natalija- she did lace work. She made Maja's christening gown. I remember because Emma was so happy with it- she sent Mama customers for years afterwards, and sometimes she'd stop in just to say hello."

The christening gown- Luka knew it well; Emma had been so pleased with it. He thought of when she first showed him, showing off the lace and the ribbons, thrilling over the fabric. Luka had been happy because Emma had been so happy; they used the gown for Maja and then for Viktor as well, had planned to use it for all their children, had planned to use it many times for many children... He still had it; it had been one of the few things he'd kept of theirs, packed safely away in it's box in his closet. He hadn't looked at since passing through Customs so long ago- the agents had opened the box, had pawed through their things, desecrating their memories while searching for who knows what. He had had to fight to maintain his composure then, had to fight to keep his emotions in check- the gown brought back too much, reminded him of everything he'd lost. He had packed it away carefully, gently, shutting it safely in its box, always close, yet unseen, like his memories of them...

"Luka," Mecheal said softly, pulling him back to the present. "I-I'm sorry if I upset you." He took a deep breath, gathering his strength.

"It's okay," he answered quietly. "I like to remember them- the good times with them." Except that he always ended up remembering the bad times, remembering the blood...

"I should let you rest," Mecheal said gently. But he didn't want her to go, not yet- he had too much he still needed to know, too much he needed to tell her.

"No- stay some," he pleaded. "I still- I- did I know you?" Mecheal sat back next to him and put her hand on his arm.

"No, I don't think so," she admitted. "I didn't work in the hospital then. But I knew you- who you were, anyway- everybody did." Her voice became hard again. "And I knew what Karel did to your family. And we all thought he'd killed you, too."

"No such luck," Luka said under his breath.

"I'm sorry- I didn't hear you," Mecheal said.

"I ran away," Luka said, his voice weary with guilt. "I- I went on the farmhouse raid. Karel talked us- talked me- into getting revenge. But when I realized what we'd done, what I'd done, I couldn't face anyone. I had to get away, had to start a new life somehow. I ran and ran, but it didn't help." It was getting hard to talk, hard to fight the pain that the memories brought. Mecheal soothed his hair back again.

"I understand," she said softly. "Karel- he..." she took a deep breath, as if afraid to tell him something. "He killed my husband. And so I ran away, too." Luka forced himself to look at her; he saw his pain mirrored in her eyes; now he understood why she had sought him out.

"I'm sorry," he offered weakly, needing to say something, but knowing it wasn't enough. Mecheal attempted to smile her thanks, but she was wrestling with her own emotions, her own memories, and had to turn away from him to hide her pain.

"I really should go now," she told him, her voice choked. "You need your rest, and I need to get to work. I'll come back tomorrow, and we can talk more."

"Mecheal," Luka said, trying to keep her here- but he could think of nothing to say to her. But Mecheal stopped at the door anyway, realizing there was something she needed to know.

"Luka," she said carefully, "How did Karel know you where you were?" Luka answered instantly.

"Radic told him." Mecheal blanched as she hurried back to his bedside.

"Radic? Gregor Radic?" Mecheal asked with fear in her voice; her eyes darted around the room as if she expected to find him hiding in the shadows. "He's here in Chicago?" Luka noticed that Mecheal was trembling; her breath was heavy and uneven, her eyes wide with fear. So Radic was a demon for her, as well.

"No, he's not in Chicago," he assured her. "He was just passing through. His wife hurt her arm and they came into County. He recognized me, called me Janko- but I told him he was wrong. He left me alone, then- but he told Karel he saw me." "So Radic knows you're here," Mecheal whispered. The truth slammed into Luka like a fist- Radic knew he was here. He had forgotten that. Surely Radic would hear about Karel- and then what? Luka couldn't guess- it was terrifying just to think about it. His side started to hurt more than ever; his leg was throbbed rhythmically with every beat of his heart. Suddenly he realized he was no longer safe; Chicago was no longer safe- maybe no place was safe anymore. He sank into his bed, feeling utterly defeated. He had risked so much to protect his life here in Chicago, but now Radic would come back, would surely come to Chicago and tell all he knew, would put an end to "Luka Kovac"...

Mecheal was still there, still looking at him with fear-filled eyes.

"Do you think he'll come?" She asked anxiously. Luka just sighed and nodded wearily; he felt so very old.

"What will we do?" Mecheal asked nervously. We? Luka thought- she has nothing to fear. Radic doesn't know she's here.

"He won't be looking for you," Luka reminded her disconsolately, "You'll be safe as long as you stay away from me." Mecheal started to say something, but he waved her away.

"Do yourself a favor," Luka said firmly. "Don't visit me. Pretend you don't know me." Mecheal move to brush his hair back again, but Luka pulled away. "You just go. I can take care of myself." Lord knows I've had enough practice, he thought.

"You be careful," Mecheal whispered, sincerely concerned.

"Yeah," he answered unconvincingly. He didn't open his eyes, but he sensed that Mecheal had finally left. Luka felt like he was falling again, falling into a black hole of pain and despair. Flames flashed up; he was trapped in an inferno; the pain seared his side, his leg, his heart. He tried to call out, tried to ask God for His help, but the only answer he got came from Karel.

"It's no use, Janko. God doesn't help murders, Janko! He doesn't help liars, Janko! It's too late for you, my friend, just too late. See you in Hell!"

to part 8

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