Hidden In Plain Sight

Disclaimer: This is a stand-alone piece not set in the world of my other ones. Pre-finale, probably set just before. This story was inspired by the song "How Could This Happen to Me" by Simple Plan. You can find the lyrics here in you want: /music/lyric.nsf/How-Could-This-Happen-to-Me-lyrics-Simple-Plan/C4A6ABA7F06A950448256FDD00165559

Synopsis: Bug is in a car crash and is sent to the hospital as a John Doe. The others have no idea where he is, and go looking for him. Jordan, Garret and Woody are investigating the case, but neither sees his face until it might be too late.

Rating: Teen, probably just because I'm paranoid. Mostly because of a few bad words, and some peril; this apparently makes movies rated PG13, so I'm rating his fic to match. :)

PS The title used to be "Death Goes On Again" but has now been changed because it didn't really fit.

Chapter One:

It had been a long day at the Boston Morgue. Mahesh Vijayaraghavensatyanaryanamurthy, known to his coworkers as Bug, was so tired he was literally falling asleep at his desk. The blow-fly larvae he was studying kept being squished accidently by his metal tweezers as he tried to force himself to stay awake and measure them.

"Bug?" Jordan's voice woke him from yet another light sleep. He looked up at her, bleary-eyed.

"Yeah?" he replied quietly, rubbing his hands across his eyes.

"Have you been here all night?" She sounded worried. He nodded.

"I had to finish documenting the length of my larvae." Jordan rolled her eyes at him, obviously annoyed.

"You do know that it's three AM, right?" He looked at his watch.

"Oh. No, I didn't."

"Lily's going to be wondering where you are, Bug. I just came in to get my purse; I left it in my office. Go home. I'll drive you, if you want." Bug shook his head and stood up.

"No, I'll be alright. You go on ahead. I'll leave in a few minutes," he said, scooping up his larvae and putting them back in their container. "I just have to clean up."

"You'd better be outta here in ten minutes. You look like crap," said Jordan. She turned around and walked in the direction of her office.



"Why thank you Jordan, you look lovely at his hour, too," he muttered under his breath, cracking his knuckles. It was a bad habit that Lily kept trying to train him out of.

Bug finished cleaning up his experiment and pulled off his rubber gloves with a snap! He threw them in the trash can and grabbed his jacket, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

When he got to his car he could barely keep his eyes open. Being this tired is not good for my health, he thought. He unlocked and opened the driver's side door and sat down. He yawned.

He had been up late for the past four nights, working with is larvae. He was proud to report that only one had died (before he started squishing them) and that they all had grown 4 millimetres since the beginning of his experiment.

He fumbled with his keys before putting the right one in the ignition and starting his car, then closed his car door and backed out of his parking space. He knew he was probably too tired to be driving himself, but he couldn't bring himself to ask for help. Not Bug. He was too independent.

The drive to his apartment was uneventful at first. He drove slowly, below the limit, and carefully; stopping at stop signs and being a very safe driver. Even when he was too exhausted to think Bug tried to be a safe driver. After his younger brother's death he promised himself that he would never hurt another human being with a vehicle.

There was one long road called Chelsea Street he had to take to get back to his apartment. It was in a rather unpopulated area of Boston, only a few houses dotted here and there along the road. It was a high-traffic area, though, even at three-thirty in the morning. Early-birds commuting to work, and late-workers like Bug going home were driving along it. It was practically a highway, just with a lower speed limit.

Not far up ahead on the road a navy El Camaro was stalling in the middle of the street. The driver, a young white man with brown hair and green eyes, had swerved when he saw a child run across the street, and his car chose that time to die on him. He was in the middle of the street, front end on his car in one lane and backend in the other. Panicking, he kept trying to start his car. But it was useless, the car he completely given up.

Bug, meanwhile, hadn't seen the stalled driver. He was so tired, his mind so focussed on the road exactly in front of his car he wasn't looking too far ahead.

Finally, he saw the car, perhaps forty feet in front of his own. He slammed on the breaks with both feet and yanked on the wheel, trying to avoid the El Camaro. Bug's car started a wild spin, and just barely hit the back bumped of it. Unfortunately, his car kept going and when he collided with the El Camaro, it sent his car spinning. His car flipped one, twice, three times, before stopping on its roof maybe fifteen feet away. Bug was unconscious by that point.

Another car, containing a white female who was perhaps forty, was on her way to work. She was an accountant, and had to get to work early. Her cell phone rang and she reached for it, picking it up 

and flipping it open. She glanced and the road, dropped her cell phone and slammed on her breaks, but it was too late for her also. Her car ran head-long into Bug's, knocking it into the El Camaro, whose owner was trying desperately to get out of his car. When Bug had hit him the airbags went off, locking him into his seat.

Bug's car was pushed on its side, driver side down. The driver of the El Camaro was flung into his window, cracking his skull. The woman driver was sent flying through her windshield. She had forgotten to do up her seatbelt.

Three more drivers were unable to avoid the three cars already involved in the accident. Two of them died instantaneously, the other survived with only a mild concussion. The cars were in what you could call a pileup, with Bug stranded helplessly at the bottom.

The entire thing had lasted for only about three and a half minutes, but in those three and a half minutes four lives were taken, and two were changed forever.

XXX

A single child, the one who had dashed across the street and accidently caused the pileup, stood by the side of the road, mouth open and video camera on. He had caught the whole thing on tape.

So... hate it? Love it? Want me to continue? Please review! I'd love to hear your comments on it so far, and I'm not sure if I should continue writing this... tell me what you think!!