Fragments
by: raileht
Summary: It's all just fun and games until someone gets hurt and the same rings true with Dr. Megan Hunt when she finds herself face to face with Wilson Polley. (Ep. 220 Mind Games - reimagined)
Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.
Rating: T, to be safe
Spoilers/Timeline: I loved the finale but there was something buzzing around my head and I had to get it out. Also, this is my first ever attempt at a Body of Proof story so I can't and won't make promises.
Warning: A lot more violent than the one in the finale, Mind Games and I changed a lot of things so if you have questions, feel free to ask. I am a huge fan of basdass Dr. Megan Hunt so…well, that's how I'm writing her. (Also, I must confess I am suffering serious Dana Delany fever here so writing this was inevitable, I think. Took three hours of my butt never leaving the chair)
Warning #2: I always try as much as possible to get existing settings of the show as accurate as I can get it, but honestly, I have not been able to fully make sense of the floor plan of the Philly CME offices so I'm going with the flow here, alright? That said, any error is all mine and I apologize ahead. Also, this is not was not beta'd and I do not have a beta.
Last, I'm not sure if this should continue so feedback would be incredibly lovely and thank you for reading!
-o0o0o0o0o-
"Speak to me of the dark gifts, I use them. I'm Gentleman Death in silk and lace, come to put out the candles."
― Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat
CHAPTER ONE
"I agree. I don't want it to end."
She didn't know what made her look, maybe it was just basic human behavior to look around without actually thinking while on the phone, a kind of move that didn't need to be though of to happen. Then again, she knew who she was talking to and knew just how devious the bastard was so maybe it was instinct that made her look behind her and catch him just as he emerged from the corner like a killer from one of those cheesy slasher movies her daughter braved watching with her.
In those movies, the villain always appeared behind the girl—because it usually was a girl—who's on the phone. Like a dark shadow, a presence unexpected usually comes out as if from nowhere and from then on, as the script goes, it goes straight downhill.
So naturally, like life imitating some seriously crappy art, that's exactly what happened.
Megan Hunt dropped the phone, barely noticing the picture frame with the photo of her daughter and herself getting knocked over and headed straight for the door. That was instinct too, running to the first source of entry and secured it locked even though she was in an office made of glass—maybe she should talk to her boss about that later.
She ran away from the door but kept her eye on him. He's not dumb, he can easily break through and they both know it and judging from the direction he had taken a he veered away from the door and moved towards a chair in no particular hurry, she'd guessed his route easily. It's not rocket science when your prey is just behind a plate-glass wall.
Wilson Polley could take her down easily, she knew it without a doubt, but she still had her mind, her best weapon, and she was going to use it. He could break her neck with his bare hands but she was going to make damn sure she was going to make him work for it.
On her way back to the phone, she grabbed the heavy paperweight she kept on her glass table, clutching it tightly with one hand. She grabbed the receiver she'd dropped only moments before and began to dial only to be distracted by a looming figure creeping in the corner of her eye.
Polley had indeed grabbed a chair and was heading towards her with it, ready to launch it at the wall of glass. She cursed, her shaking finger hitting buttons only to be halted once more, this time by a deafening crash and before she knew it, glass was flying everywhere.
Megan had known it was coming but it still took her by surprise and she dropped the phone once more, slipping as she stumbled back away from the crash, turning her face away from the flying shards and the wreckage. In the process, she knocked over her purse, the picture frame and a few other items on her table as she moved to get away. She heard the crash as Wilson Polley threw aside the chair he had used and before she knew it, he was there, looming over her menacingly.
"Good evening, Dr. Hunt."
When Polley made a move to grab her, Megan scurried back, slipping in the process but he was on her in an instant, his large hand capturing her left wrist with a vice like grip. She gasped, breathing raggedly and her heart leaping to her throat as if trying to punch its way out of her body and she spat wildly at him, "Get away from me!"
He didn't listen though and pulled again. She struggled, trying to find something to grab on to and lucked out when she felt her hand close on a familiar texture. Desperately, she clutched the large paperweight she'd taken with her and held on.
Rounding on Polley, Megan gritted her teeth as she launched it straight at the bastard.
The heavy improvised projectile flew straight at his head and he doubled over, his hand flying to his temple with a surprised grunt followed by a curse. Megan moved, but not before realizing she had knocked her phone out of her purse. A whisper of thanks slipped from her mind as she grabbed it, scrambling to her feet and simply ran.
Polley had blocked her way to the door she had locked, leaving only the devastation he had created out of her office on her way out. But as Megan passed through the hole, her high heels slipped on some of the scattered shards and she reached out blindly, clutching the window frame. She cried out as she felt the pieces of glass pierce her palm.
Behind her, Polley had gotten his bearings back and made a grab for her again, taking a fistful of the ends of her hair and pulled hard. Megan cried out, her head jerking back and she almost slipped again.
She took advantage of the momentum and instead spun around, ignoring the way the movement seemed to tear her hair straight from her scalp and pushed hard. He didn't let go so with a grunt, she dug the back of one heel into his foot, causing him to release her. She didn't hesitate, taking off as fast as her feet would allow.
Behind her, she heard Polley laugh, "Run, Dr. Hunt! Run because when I catch you, you will pay for that!"
Megan didn't stop to hear if he was going to tell her just exactly how he was going to make her pay, running down the hall just as he stumbled after her, blocking the way to the elevators and the stairs. She knew the place far better than he did and she kept that in mind, mapping out the office she had spent the better part of the last few years working in and tried to quickly decide the best route to take.
Down the hall were the rooms allocated for autopsies. Those were the suites she was more familiar and they held the instruments that could work better as weapons compared to an unassuming paperweight. She knew where they were stored and left for the night and if she could only get to them, then she might find something to defend herself against the madman chasing after her.
In the back of her mind, she only hoped she could hold Polley off long enough to make it through the service elevator used for transporting bodies in and out of the building. With a bit of luck, that could serve as a way out or at least, find shelter although without her keys, she knew getting to her car was out of the options available to her.
She took solace that there was an active set of security in the building and it was never really empty during the night. Maybe a guard or even a janitor—anyone would be there who could help Megan. He was gaining on her fast, if his thundering footfalls behind her were any indication.
At the moment though, the immediate goal was to put as much space between her and Polley as possible and Megan just ran, straight down the hall. The lights there were off, though it wasn't completely dark and she slipped into the Autopsy Suite, the one right after the area where Trace Analysis did their work. She slipped right through the open door, ducking behind a solid opaque wall and tried her best not to breathe too loudly. Her heart was in her throat and her head felt light from the running and insufficient oxygen.
The shaking of her body wasn't helping either as adrenaline ran rapidly through her system, her knees shaking as she steadied herself whilst she crouched steadily as she could. She kept her ears out for Polley above the thunderous beats of her heart smashing its way through her body.
"Dr. Hunt," she heard him call out to her in an eerie melodious tone, "Come out and play…I promise I'll be gentle. We were having such a lovely honest conversation…I would hate to have it end there."
Megan's chin began to quiver and she stopped herself, placing her hand over her mouth, not noticing her own blood smearing against her skin. Her heart continued to threaten to jump right out of her mouth and she lifted her phone, hunching right over it as she let it light up and began to try and dial again. She breathed through her nose, sinking her upper teeth onto her bottom lip, biting hard as her thumb trembled violently over the surface of her phone, almost making it impossible to operate the piece of technology without error.
She blinked away the tears that stung her eyes and tried not to panic as her shaking had caused her to falter in using her phone and instead, it brought her right to the call history. The most recent call was at the top of the list and with a desperate whimper nearly escaping her lips which she smothered with her hand, she pressed call.
Megan waited and she had been so desperate to have the call connect, she had forgotten to keep a look out—a grievous mistake, it turned out as somehow, there was a presence right behind her from where she had positioned herself by the doors.
"Hello there," Polley said cheerfully and Megan's head shot up, eyes wide and felt rather than saw something colliding hard against her cheek—the back of Polley's hand.
The doctor fell with a painful thud, her body colliding against the cold floor sideways with the side of her face slamming hard on the landing. Her cheeks burned and her head began to swim, the impact mixed with adrenaline leaving her momentarily stunned. A foot away from her, her phone skittered along face down, halting just far enough to Polley to kneel down and grab it.
"Now who do we—oh! Dr. Kate Murphy? Well, we'll just have to let that one go now, won't we?" Polley crooned, nudging Megan onto her back, her eyes nearly rolling to the back of her head as she tried to focus her vision. He hung up for her, cutting off the call just as it connected and slipped it into his pocket. "This is, I'm afraid, a private party and you're the honored guest. Can't have the good woman spoiling our fun, right, Dr. Hunt?"
Megan got her first opportunity to look at Polley's face and see the damage she had inflicted on him during her break for freedom. His right temple was an angry shade of red with blood smeared from when he had most likely wiped off and what blood was left on the wound was already clotting. A few drops mingled with his sweat, running into a diluted mix on the top side of his face.
To her dismay, that was all that was visible in the damage she caused. She was sure she could possibly have nearly broken a toe or two, but he'd caught up to her anyway. Her mind screamed as it swam, trying hard to keep focus and realized she must have hit her head harder than she'd originally assessed. The side of her face burned and throbbed as she blinked wordlessly at the man so intent to have her in his mercy.
"You have been very difficult, doctor," Polley said, shaking his head at her and waved a finger in her face as if she was a child in need of serious chastising. "I was going to be gracious, but seeing as you've made it impossible to do so, I'm afraid this long goodbye is going to be a lot less pleasant than I'd planned."
"You're not getting away with this," Megan managed to find her voice, sounding a lot braver than she felt while Wilson Polley looming over her like a monster from a dream. "People know where I am…they're going to be here soon."
"Yes, but the question is when?" Polley chuckled, shaking his head at her, "I know good ole' Detective Morris and your band of merry men are at a party for that lovely pregnant wife of his…now, I don't know about you but I'm pretty sure things are swinging there and I really do think, dear doctor, that you and I have enough time to savor this one last moment…together."
Even while she was at an obvious disadvantage, Megan still found it in herself to be defiant, despite the fear that steadily coursed through her veins. She wasn't giving up but she still had the presence of mind to realize she could be dead already, lying there underneath the madman.
But even with that finality hanging over her head, she fund she couldn't just leave it there and give up. It wasn't over until she took her last breath and that meant she was going to fight him every step of the way because there was no way in hell she was going to give him the satisfaction of having her cower in his presence—she wasn't going to just hand him that kind of power, not if she could help it.
"I'm not gonna beg," she snarled as viciously as she could.
Despite the vitriol Megan directed at him, it didn't seem to affect Polley in any way, chuckling as if he'd just heard an amusing anecdote then nodded before tilting his head sideways as he looked down on her, "Oh, I know you enough by now not to expect that from you…not that it matters," he grabbed her by the upper arms, digging his fingers painfully into her skin, pulling her up sharply and slammed her back against the wall.
Pain shot up and down her back and she wasn't able to suppress the cry that escaped her lips, her head colliding harshly with the wall as Polley pinned her easily. A groan escaped her lips, her head lolling to the side only to have it snap back into place with the help of his hand gabbing her chin, this time his fingers digging into her jaw like was trying to crush it with his hand.
"From now on, I'll be doing all the talking," Polley smiled and while it may be the most cheerful one he could muster, it just came across as sinister to Megan who, even with the continued throbbing of her head, could still see the look clearly displayed on his face, "Maybe no one's ever told you, but you talk too much…"
He tightened his grip on her face and Megan winced, trying to move her head but he kept his hold strong.
"So, we're going to have to make some…adjustments," there was that smile again, this time it was matched with a glint in his eye she'd yet to see until now. It scared her, recognizing the maliciousness in his dark eyes for what it was, knowing it could mean nothing good for her, "But for that, you're going to have to take a little nap, alright, doc? Nighty-night."
Before Megan could figure out what that meant, Wilson Polley pulled his other arm back before slamming his fist right in her face.
She was out before her brain could register the pain that came with the blow.
-o0o-
"I thought you guys said Megan was on her way out."
Dr. Kate Murphy and Peter Dunlop turned towards the very pregnant wife of Detective Bud Morris, who was—for the lack of a better word—waddling her way towards them. Her husband followed close behind, perfecting his very own imitation of a large protective bear hovering over his mate. Not too far away, Detective Samantha Baker looked up from the conversation she was having with one of the guests.
"She was," Kate replied, checking her watch and glancing at Peter who didn't look as if he had an answer himself. She wasn't surprised, having caught the tail-end of his last conversation with his partner. She hadn't bothered butting into that one, knowing the two could have their tiffs at times, considering Peter was partnered with her most troublesome employee.
There were only two ways it could go—they would patch things up eventually, which they'd done before already, or Kate would have to do something about it if it became a problem. She was giving them time to sort it out, what they did was their business. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to give another reason for her sometimes tumultuous relationship with Megan to get muddled again. That was one boat Kate wasn't really all that eager to rock all too soon once more if she could help it.
Peter had things to deal with and Megan still had a lot of things to learn that could not be found in her medical texts or anything inside an evidence bag. So far, they hadn't killed each other—which was not hard to imagine doing if one was saddled with the brilliant ex-neurosurgeon-turned-Medical-Examiner—so their little fights were fine with Kate, as long as it was kept out of work.
"Well, where is she? Shouldn't she be here by now?" Jeannie Morris asked with one hand on her ever expanding belly, the other on her husband's chest. She was very much looking forward to seeing the doctor once again, not only because she'd been the one to help her detect her having gestational diabetes, but also because for a while, Megan Hunt had been quite the curiosity.
Apart from her mother, Jeannie had never quite seen anyone get under her husband's skin like that and it was different too because while Bud grumbled about his mother-in-law, he grumbled about the once elusive Dr. Hunt in a way that told his wife there was grudging respect there, despite the fact that there were day he could clobber the woman himself. It had amused Jeannie and fascinated her at the same time because as much as a rock as her husband could be, he couldn't seem to find some way of just muscling himself through the woman the way he normally would with anyone else.
Besides, Jeannie did like Megan very much. She hadn't met the woman Bud had talked about, she had met a Megan Hunt that was nice, gentle and caring. Why else would a complete stranger just help her out of the blue? She knew, like her often crabby husband, Megan was similar to him as well—both of them had a rough exterior that just covered this core where another part of them was hidden and protected from the world, the soft, caring, warm part of them very few people were allowed to see.
Not that she would ever tell her husband or the doctor about these thoughts. No, these were Jeannie's alone because she knew, like Bud, Megan would either laugh it off or just outright tell her to have her head checked. Both were stubborn mules, she knew and she knew a thing or two about those.
"It's, oh," Kate took out her phone, impeccably groomed eyebrows shooting up, "A missed call…from Megan?"
"Did she leave a message?" Jeannie asked, hopeful.
The blonde Chief Medical Examiner frowned, "No, nothing. Maybe she was just calling to tell us she's going to be late."
"Well, call her back and tell her to get her butt here," Bud said in an unusually cheerful mood which was not surprising, considering this was a party to celebrate his growing family. "She's missing out."
"Maybe she just got held up," Kate said as she pressed her phone to her ear, glancing at Peter and gave him a knowing look, "You know Megan."
Peter nodded simply, sipping his drink and checked his own watch. It was his turn to raise his eyebrows—he hadn't realized they'd been there a while. He knew Megan had her moments, but even for her this was unusually late. She knew Jeannie was looking forward to seeing her and Peter knew despite her somewhat awkward anti-social tendencies, Megan wouldn't just simply let Jeannie down because even without saying, he knew she liked the detective's wife.
"Voicemail," Kate frowned, pausing before speaking into her phone, "Hey, Megan, where are you? You're missing out on a party and there's a very pregnant Mama here who'd like to see you. Hurry up or call me back, alright? It's Kate."
"It's Kate?" Bud echoed with a grin, "Like she wouldn't know?"
"Just making sure," the blonde made a face, "You're lucky Jeannie's around, I'd kick your butt, Bud."
"Do I hear a throwdown?" Dr. Ethan Gross piped up, nudging his way through a clump of baby pink and blue balloons, cupcake in hand and looking very much into the celebration. Behind him, Dr. Curtis Brumfield followed along with his own pastry confection.
"My husband, your boss," Jeannie replied with a grin, "My money's on Dr. Murphy."
"Hey! Husband in the room?" Bud, playing along as he pretended to be affronted.
Jeannie smiled at Kate, "Bud doesn't like to hit girls."
Everyone laughed and Bud simply said, "That's why I have Sam for my partner. She hits them for me."
"Yeah, well, I'm not about to hit the doc for you so you're on your own on this one," Sam piped up, drink in hand and a grin.
"Gee, thanks," Bud said sourly as they laughed again.
"Hey, is Dr. Hunt here yet?" Ethan asked, finishing off his cupcake, "She's got to try these babies!"
"Didn't yo' mama teach you how to eat, you bobblehead?" Curtis asked, nudging the younger man on the shoulder and tossed a pastel colored paper napkin at him. "You got food on yo' face!"
"Oh, sorry," Ethan said sheepishly, wiping his face off and looked expectantly at everyone. "So?"
"She called me but I missed it," Kate explained, "We left her a message…she should be here soon."
Ethan frowned, "She should have been here by now. Where could she be…? I mean, didn't we leave the office, like, an hour ago or something? She's really late."
"It's been more than an hour," Curtis said, "We got here practically the same time."
"When was the last time anyone spoke to the doc anyway?" Sam asked, frowning now. The curiosity of the whereabouts of the Medical Examiner was slowly affecting the jovial mood of the celebration.
Peter looked at his watch again, "Yeah…we probably should call the office. Maybe she got held up?"
"What are the chances there's a case…?" Jeannie asked.
"Nu-uh, we woulda been notified," Curtis answered.
Kate nodded, "Or at least Peter would know…Megan would call him if something came in."
"Bud?" Jeannie turned towards her husband who was surveying the group from behind her, a more serious look on his face now. "What's going on?"
He saw the look on his wife's face then shook his head, "Could someone please just call the woman? Call until she picks up—she's bound to! That damned phone of hers I always attached to her hip."
Kate and Ethan took their phones out as well while the two detectives shared a look. No one was saying it yet, but things didn't quite feel so festive anymore. Something had changed and it wasn't just because the doctor was unusually out of reach—something just didn't feel right. Years of experience in their profession had made sure their instincts and skills were honed to feel the slightest of shifts and they could definitely feel one there.
Ethan's face fell as his eyes grew wide, "Guys…?"
They all turned towards him and he was faced with expectant faces now. This time, even the young intern didn't seem all that into the idea of partying now or having more cupcakes.
"What if something's happened to Dr. Hunt?"
-o0o-
"Yoo…hoo…"
Someone was poking her and it was annoying.
"Yoohoo…"
Megan felt her head throbbing in the midst of trying to figure out who was poking her. Who would be dumb enough to? And why did her head hurt like a week's worth of hangover? Bleary eyed, she came to, blinking to let her eyes adjust to the sudden light. Light. Was it morning? A hangover then?
"…wake up, Sunshine," said a voice that her memory immediately pulled.
Her eyes shot open, despite her fact her senses hadn't fully caught on yet though it did not take long because suddenly it all came back—Polley, her office, her cellphone sliding across the floor. Trying to call Kate—anyone—for help. It hit her like a freight train and she might as well have, judging from the amount of pain that radiated from her head and other parts of her body.
"Shit," she almost said but found she couldn't really do so with her mouth taped. Her body seized up, tensing when she found her hands bound and folded to her chest a she lay on her side. Taped too, just like her ankles and when she felt the cold on her skin, she knew he had taken her shoes as well.
Unable to fight instinct, Megan Hunt began to struggle against the bonds keeping her immobile, her back arching, her chest heaving with a sudden inhale and the coolness seemed to pierce right through her skin. What the hell had the son of a bitch done to her? Her eyes were as wide as they could go as simultaneously her mouth tried to fight against the adhesive.
"Shh, shh…" his hand landed on the side of her neck and she stilled at his touch. He moved her hair away, pushing pieces of it off her eyes and helped clear her vision to show her just exactly where they were.
It wasn't hard to figure out, not when she knew the room as well as she did the back of her hand. They were still in the autopsy suite. Immediately, Megan knew why she felt so cold, why it seemed to spear its way right into her bones—it wasn't shock or anything Polley had done to her, at least, not yet. It was much worse.
Wilson Polley had laid down Megan Hunt on one of the suite's autopsy tables—the same tables she herself had used to cut open countless numbers of bodies in the span of her career as a Medical Examiner.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Dr. Hunt," Polley said, "Just in time to join in on the fun."
The clattering of metal and a sound of wheels turning caught her attention and despite her weakness and current position, Megan tried to look as to where the noise was coming from. She turned her head every which way until she felt herself getting a little dizzy. She didn't stop though and just as the sound stopped, she found herself faced with an all too familiar tray filled with all sorts of very familiar things.
"I hope you don't mind," Polley crooned with a grin, pushing her hair back further and waved something in front of her, "I thought I'd borrow some of your toys, seeing as you took mine?"
Megan's eyes widened when she recognized it was a scalpel pinched delicately between Polley's fingers.
And the demented smile on his face was enough to tell her exactly why he decided to borrow her 'toys'.
-o0o-
"Ethan! What have you been smokin', knucklehead?"
"What?" the young intern rounded on his boss's—sort of—boss, "She hasn't called and she would have picked up when we called her. She hasn't. Not me or Kate. It's weird."
"Now, let's not jump into—"
"It's possible!" Ethan insisted, not letting Kate finish when she'd begun to speak and turned to Peter, Bud and Sam—the people he counted on most to see his point of view. They were cops, "Right? I mean, Polley is still out there, isn't he? What if he came after her?"
"Who's Polley? What are you talking about?" Jeannie asked, turning to her husband and his partner, only to have him gently rub her shoulder soothingly. He wanted to calm her down, knowing she could not afford the stress, not that either of them could help it, not when things were getting tense by the minute.
"The Marshalls had him en route to the Canadian—" Sam began, but the usually awkward doctor seemed to be on some kind of roll.
"They tracked the GPS of a cellphone to the Canadian border," Ethan pointed out, "That doesn't prove anything except a phone was headed that way." He looked at Bud and Same solemnly, "What are the chances he planted that phone on someone? Or, you know…this guy is smart and he specifically taunted Dr. Hunt…what if he came back for her? He targeted her! He threatened Lacey!"
"Oh, my god," Jeannie gasped from beside Bud who could barely suppress the tenseness and stress from appearing on his face. It wasn't just his desire to keep his wife calm that was making him react despite his sudden reticence—the nagging feeling was still there and a part of him knew he'd heard enough to consider that maybe the intern might have a point.
"Ethan…" Kate began slowly, only to stop as well, turning towards the two detectives, as if they could handle the young doctor better than she could.
"If that's not the case, then where is she?" he pulled out his phone, calling again and this time, put it on speaker. The doctor's voice broke through the speakers clearly, "You've reached Dr. Megan Hunt. Leave a—" He hung up, giving them all a look as if that solidified everything, "See? She would have picked up."
"She could be with Lacey right now," Peter offered but Ethan shook his head in an obvious rejection.
"Dr. Hunt is a pain in the ass, but she woulda called," Curtis said, "Or answered. It's too early to expect her to be sleepin', even with Lacey in the house."
"Bud, I'm worried," Jeannie said, her eyes wide as she turned fully towards him. "Ethan might be right…what if something happened?"
"We can't let our imaginations run ahead of us," Bud shook his head, "She could be on her way this very moment…maybe she's driving, won't pick up? Maybe she dropped by somewhere…doesn't she have a boyfriend or something?"
"He's out of town," Peter answered, "At least, last I heard."
"Bud, please," Jeannie said and it didn't take long before everyone saw the man nod slowly, turning to his partner, Bud began, "Sam, could you—?"
"On it," she nodded, putting aside her glass and allowed a ghost of a smirk to appear on her face. "I'll drag her butt in here and we can all kick her ass for makin' us worry, alright?"
"Sounds too good to pass up," Curtis quipped. "I'm in."
Jeannie smiled, "Thank you."
"I'll come with you," Peter said, his eyes meeting Kate who nodded at him. They rode there together using her car and she was the only one aware of what went down between partners.
"Good, you shoot her if she tries to run," Sam joked in an effort to lighten the mood. "She's your partner so it won't count."
"Call us when you find her," Kate said, placing a calming hand on Jeannie's arm and rubbed gently, giving her a gentle reassuring smile.
After the two had gone, Kate and Curtis, minus Bud and Jeannie who had gone on to get the pregnant woman a drink to calm her, turned to Ethan. When usually he would have seemed contrite, he wasn't then, shrugging as he simply said, "Better safe than sorry."
"If you and Dr. Hunt worried that pregnant woman for nothin'," Curtis snorted, "I ain't gonn' help yo' scrawny ass when that bear of a man pounces on you for gettin' his wife worked up."
Ethan shrugged, "I just wanna make sure she's okay…I mean, when has she not picked up her phone? Well, except for when it broke once."
"Mhm," Curtis simply gave a derisive hum as he walked off.
Ethan turned to Kate, "You really think nothing's wrong?"
The Chief managed a smile even though there was something in her eyes that didn't quite match her expression, "I'm sure she's okay."
He watched her walk off, following the direction to where the Morrises had headed and Ethan simply watched them go. The party was still in full-swing, the other guests seemingly unaware of the discussion that had just taken place. Ethan stood there, surrounded by pink and blue balloons and stared at the doors from where Sam and Peter had exited.
Something really just didn't feel right and somewhere in his stomach, Ethan just felt the oddest sensations. It was unpleasant and despite his insistence, he hoped that his imagination was really just getting away from him. He hoped Dr. Hunt would return soon, laughing with Sam and Peter about his skittishness. He would prefer she laugh at him and tease him, as opposed to the thoughts that continued to swirl about in his mind.
Because the truth was, Ethan genuinely liked Megan Hunt and he would honestly hate it if anything were ever to happen to her. She was more than just a mentor to him—Megan understood him in a way that very few others could and even though she might deny it, he considered her to be one of his true friends.
Sticking his hands in his pockets, the curly haired doctor turned away from the door, mumbling quietly, "I hope you're right, Dr. Murphy…I really hope you're right."
Never in his life had Ethan Gross hoped so badly he was wrong.
-o0o-
"Now, here's the deal, Dr. Hunt."
Megan looked up, wide-eyed, as Wilson Polley loomed over her again. He had turned on the overhead light and seemed overly fond of the No. 10 surgical blade he managed to find. It was the same one she used to make the Y incision and she didn't even want to imagine what the sick bastard had in mind for her.
She had to get out, if not for herself, then for her daughter.
Lacey.
The thought of Lacey, the most important thing in her life, her whole world, was enough to summon tears to gather in her eyes and cause her already tense throat to feel even tighter. After having just gotten her back and reconnecting, Megan could not imagine losing her again. There was still so much left to know, to say and still so much lost time to make up for, she couldn't imagine just leaving her all over again. She wasn't ready to go, she was so far from ready.
She was thankful Polley was too busy playing his mind games to notice the shift in her emotions. Self-pity and giving up were two things she didn't need so she mustered up the courage to swallow the lump in her throat and got her mind working. She had time. Polley was like a fat cat playing with his prey and the more he kept at it, the more time she had. She just needed to use her head.
"…you be nice to me and I will be nice to you," he said, "I'm still curious as to where you have my toy…you must have it here somewhere?"
Megan simply stared at him, breathing through her nose. Her head still hurt and she could feel practically her whole face throbbing though she guessed the cold from both the room and the table was keeping the complete effect of the blows she'd received at bay. Sometimes her vision would swim but it happened in intervals. She was relatively in one piece—for now—she still had a chance.
"I'll return yours, if you give me mine," he offered then waited. When nothing came and she simply lay there, he shrugged and moved the overhead light, this time focusing it on her torso, "Alright then. I can make do."
He put the blade aside then proceeded to grab her shoulder. Megan flinched at first, then shrugged his hold off as hard as she could. He merely chuckled and grabbed her again, this time hard and rough with both hands, moving her protesting body until she was on her back yet again. She continued to fight him, shoving him as much as she could with her bound wrists.
She must have been pushing his patience enough when suddenly he stopped, raising his hand then struck her again, much like before. Her head snapped to the side and he wrapped his hand around her neck, holding her in place while the other one reached for something.
Megan only stopped fighting when her eyes caught the distinct glint of light bouncing off a shiny surface. It was followed by Polley's hand stopping at her neck and a slight sting of pain, right on her jugular where he pressed the hard enough to break the skin and draw blood.
"I can end this here right now, if you want," he snarled, the sinister playfulness gone as he glared down on her. "Give me a reason. Do it."
She stopped struggling, her wrists resting on her chest and her legs went still, resting awkwardly sideways. Megan met his eyes, her hazel orbs unflinchingly challenging his despite the presence of fear. Even under the knife, she defied him within an inch from death.
Polley held her gaze for a moment before grinning again, "Now, see, this is why I like you, why you were worth all the trouble."
He moved the blade from her skin, waving it at her where she could catch a glimpse of her own blood, as if she needed proof of what he had done. To her surprise, he tossed it aside, letting it clatter onto the floor thoughtlessly before turning away from her again.
"You're different," he said over his shoulder, confident she wasn't going to move. "Somehow, I knew you weren't going to beg or plead or bargain the way those other stupid ones did…oh, you should have heard them…the tears, the apologies, the endless offerings of money, of things, of themselves."
He laughed, "They begged, oh, how they begged…quaking in fear, crying as if it would make a difference. Each and every one of them too dumb to realize…it was already over."
Polley turned to Megan, smiling at her, "But you, Dr. Hunt…you're different. I knew you would be." He chuckled, "You…are going to be my greatest work."
Megan began to breathe heavier through her nose, her chest heaving and her body nearly cramping with the urge to curl up in herself, her mind working into overdrive trying to find any way she could protect herself.
"I have to confess," he said after a beat and he raised his arm once more. Megan flinched, her eyes closing as her body had seemed to have ingrained in her sensory memory that whenever he moved that way, pain followed. He had conditioned her with only a few blows and that alone was enough to spurn her desire not to give up.
He noticed and simply laughed, "Oh, don't worry, I'm being nice now. There really shouldn't be any need for such unpleasantness…in fact I am going to tell you the truth. No need to shy away from me. I have…a confession."
Polley raised his hand once more then held something against the light.
Fighting against the glare and the swimming of her head, Megan squinted until she recognized what Wilson Polley was so eager to show her
"I found this in the lab," Polley grinned, "Wait, don't tell me…you left it there, didn't you? Just for me? You know how I loved this. I mean, you examined it, didn't you? It's a beauty, isn't it? You have no idea how much time and money it cost to find the perfect one…and it is: perfect."
He let the tip of the hook press against her cheek, tracing the edges of the steadily forming bruise under her left eye from where he had knocked her out cold. She flinched, moving away from the sharp tool only to have him press on, the very tip of the curved hook scratching almost painfully against her skin.
"I was just testing you, to see if you'd help out an old friend," he shrugged, "But no need to dwell on that. You've got your toys, I've got mine."
Something began to buzz and Polley stopped, pulling out her phone from his pocket, "Well, aren't you just Miss Popular tonight? So many calls, so many messages…by the way, Dr. Murphy says call her back. But we're busy so we cannot afford—oh, look, a message from Peter."
He grinned at her, "He says: 'Where are U? Everyone's getting worried. Call back.' Aww, ain't that sweet? Oh, well, busy bees need to work, work, work!" He sighed, "Since you're a bit tied up, I'll let him know you…got held up somewhere and you'll see him soon."
Polley typed the message, reading his work for a moment before pressing send. He smiled at Megan, "There. That should buy us some time, right, doc?"
Without another word, he launched the phone straight across the room and she heard it smash against a wall and shatter, the pieces clattering as it met the ground. Try as she might, she couldn't help the pang of fear as that act only drove the feeling of hopelessness that threatened to overtake her mind then.
"I guess that's enough dilly-dallying for me," Polley said simply then suddenly, he moved so fast Megan hadn't been able to see where he was going until he felt him grab a fistful of hair from the back of her head, lifting her head up and painfully stretching her neck as he pulled her hard enough to lift the upper half of her torso off the table.
Megan whimpered, unable to help herself as her abdominal muscles folded awkwardly, nearly cramping as he continued to put the strain on her body. Mercilessly, he tilted her head back by her hair, nearly ripping it clear from the roots, leaving her body shaking as she tried to hold herself up. She felt as if her neck was going to snap clean off her body and her legs tensed, knees folding as her feet tried to support her body vainly, the rest of her body contorting to support the unnatural position with little success.
"Three years," Polley snarled, bringing his face so close to hers, she could see the sweat beading on his forehead and his cheeks. He was hot, heat seemingly pushing through his pores and his eyes bulged as they bore into hers, "Three years I have dreamt of ripping out that beautiful brain of yours. Now, here we are and just because you are so special, I am going to do this while you're awake so you can see just how special you are to me."
He pulled harder on her hair but this time, the whimpers that were left muffled under the tape was not from that but rather was caused by the hook he was intently moving towards her left nostril. Megan began to move then, trying to dislodge her head from his hand.
The hook seemed larger than it actually was, even from the awkward tilt of her head. Vainly, Megan's bound legs began to kick, her body straining even more to fight her captor.
But Polley held on, his hands curling impossibly tighter on her scalp and had she had the frame of mind, she would have felt the sensation that would have made her think she was bleeding from the roots of her hair.
Megan whimpered, moving her head but it only caused her more pain from her scalp to her neck. She moved her arms but not hard enough to dislodge Polley off of her. The hook was getting closer to her nose, she could practically feel the molded tip. She began to panic and animal instincts took over—fight, flight or die.
Blindly, she kicked her legs, hitting Polley and making him stumble although it wasn't enough to make him slip and let her go. There was a loud clanging sound and Polley stopped, glancing at the tray he had knocked over, sending the contents all over the floor. Megan recognized her own medical tools hitting the ground—she's heard that enough times both from her life as a neurosurgeon and a medical examiner from clumsy nurses and interns to know.
It turned out the distraction was enough for Megan, thinking fast and decided to gamble on her chances once more, curling both hands into tight fists and jabbed upwards. She hit the hand holding the ancient tool, knocking it clean from his hands, sending it clattering on the tile floors. Megan jabbed again, catching him on the chin and Polley let out a yelp.
He slipped, arms flailing before falling on a heap on the side of the table, disappearing from her view with a thump. Megan's hands hurt like hell, but she didn't let that stop her, rolling off the table and landing a painfully on the other side of the table. She ripped the tape from her mouth, crying out from the sting and began to frantically chew at the ones around her wrist. At the same time, she tried to move her ankles to try and slip them off, if not worry the material enough to loosen somehow.
Biting through the damned material was taking longer than she expected and Megan had to think of another way to free herself. She couldn't hear movement from Polley's side but she wouldn't put it past him getting up again. She looked around, frantic, until she found her salvation—
A scalpel, shiny and glinting from the light like a small beacon of hope.
Megan made a grab for it, fingers closing in on the handle and manipulated it into position with her fingers and teeth then started slashing at the duct tape around her ankles. Her body hurt in so many places, but she didn't let anything stop her. The sharp blade slipped once and cut through her pant leg and pierced her skin at some point, but she merely grit her teeth and kept going.
She didn't even dare look to where Polley might be.
With only the barest threads left from the fibrous threads of the tape, Megan slashed on. She almost finished until she felt a hand grab around her throat and it maneuvered into a chokehold. She gasped, feeling Polley tighten his arm around her neck, not sure whether he aimed to force her into unconsciousness or just finish her off then with a snap.
She didn't wait to find out and instead, twisted her body as hard as she could, both hands clutching the blade and shoved it into any part of him she could reach behind her.
The sharp blade slipped as it ripped through his skin then the bone on his shin and when Megan pushed again, it dug into his calf. Polley screamed, throwing her forward with a vicious shove and she let the momentum carry her. Her bound hands barely cushioned the impact, but she had cut through the bindings around her ankles to rip the last few threads apart with a hard kick and she pushed her body up and began to run once more.
Disoriented, she retraced her steps without thinking, unable to decide on a specific goal other than to get as far away from her attacker as she could.
But Polley was close and she could hear him screaming, cursing and yelling her name. She'd gotten him so incredibly man, she knew for sure the next time she let him catch her, she was as good as dead.
It was that thought that propelled her to go faster, running straight down the hall, barefoot and her head still swimming, still in so much pain.
But Megan was desperate to live, desperate not to have her life end that night.
She caught the lights from the main area of the floor where her office, Kate's and various other sections were still well lit. Megan almost sobbed with relief, running so fast, her heart was practically clawing its way out of her throat straight to her mouth. She'd been so intent on reaching her goal, she had forgotten the wall Polley had shattered his way into her office.
Barefoot and frantic, Megan ran straight at the fragments scattered on the tile floors. She cried out, slipping as she felt shards of glass pierce her feet, breaking skin and drawing blood with the combination of her weight and the momentum of the slip. She went on, trying hard not to step on any more with a sob after another, unable to help the pain. She didn't stop though, knowing she couldn't afford to.
She trailed blood and hobbled a little along but she was so close to the elevators and the stairway with Polley right behind her, the thought of having him catch her again helped her rally through the pain.
"You can run but I will get you! I'm going to rip your brain out and then I'm going to go after that precious daughter of yours! You bet I will make sure she suffers MORE than you ever will and I'll tell her she has YOU to thank for it!"
Megan pushed herself, slipping from both the blood and the pain, dizzy from the rush of adrenaline, fear and her body nearly crumbling under the abuse. But just as she reached halfway across the space between the elevator and the waiting area, she felt a heavy weight fall on her.
She screamed as she fell down hard face first, her cheek hitting the floor that caused lights to explode behind her eyelids as Polley tackled her. He grabbed her by the hair again and she screamed once more as he lifted her by the back of her neck, slamming her into the nearest wall hard enough to knock the air right out of her lungs. Pain erupted from every point of her body, starting from her back, her eyes shooting open with the shock of the blow and her mouth opening with a strangled gasp.
Polley shove his arm right on her throat, savagely pressing hard while the other let go of her hair and pulled out the hook. He held her up, effectively immobilizing her, deflecting all of her futile attempts to kick and claw at him with her bound hands. He raised the hook merely inches away from her face.
"Fun and games are over," he snarled, whatever morbid joviality he had prior gone now as the storm that gathered in his eyes. He made sure she saw the weapon he so loved, "I'm going to jam this up your nose and pull your goddamned brain out.
"And you are going to be awake for it, you smug bitch," he growled at her, his face a mask of unbridled fury, moving the hook towards her once more, "I'm going to smash this straight through your brain—straight through that goddamned skull of yours and I'll ram this up so hard until this hook is standing on the top of your head like a goddamned unicorn! Think you your darling Lacey will love that?"
Polley moved his hand back, the hook ready and pressed harder against Megan's neck with his forearm, hard enough for her to believe he was going to just snap it and kill her. He was cutting her airway off so completely, she couldn't even attempt to swallow. She struggled more though, her eyes nearly rolling to the back of her head as she began to choke.
Feebly, her bound hands tried to claw at his arm, tried to pull him off of her, her face burning as she struggled for the oxygen her body was going into overdrive demanding for. The taste of iron filled her mouth, blood from the inside of her cheek where her teeth had dug in when Polley tackled her.
The mixture of blood and saliva trickled over the corner of her mouth and chin. Megan let out a strangled sound, her hands slipping as it tried to grab on to his arm, the weakening blows she tried to inflict with her curled fists simply turning into a nuisance instead of a source of pain.
But it was all useless now because it seemed even Polley didn't realize just how hard he was pressing on her and showed no signs of letting go.
It didn't take long for Megan to reach the point where she couldn't struggle anymore, her pale hands falling limp as the edges of her vision began to grow fuzzy and dark. Wilson Polley just held her there though, a snarl displayed on his face. Her arms felt like lead, hanging limply in front of her and she couldn't even try to move her legs any longer. Her body spasmed and convulsed for oxygen, getting nothing with the way Megan was fading quickly.
Devastated, she knew the end was near for her.
And try as she might, she was losing out on this fight. It wasn't a matter of giving up, she knew, she just simply could not will herself any further. Polley had her in a death grip and it was only a matter of time before he finished what he had come to do. She barely had seconds, couldn't even imagine minutes anymore and even as her hands twitched and her finger curled and uncurled in the slightest of movements, there was little else that could be done. Polley had every edge on her, holding her up and gave no further chances of escape.
With that, a tear slipped down her reddening cheek as she let one last thought swim through her mind. They were words she was never going to be able to say again and she'd never been felt such regret in her life.
And it hurt worse than anything Polley could ever do to her.
"I'm so sorry, Lacey…I tried. I tried so hard. I'm sorry. Lacey…Lacey. Lacey, I love you. Please don't ever forget. I love you, baby."
At the very least, she took comfort that in the last moments of her life, she only saw her daughter's smiling face and clung to the memories of her, recalling every detail, replaying the sound of her laughter, her voice and remembering the times they spent together.
Lacey, her beautiful, wonderful Lacey. She was the one true good thing in her life and Megan was so very sorry to leave her. She hoped desperately to god Lacey would never doubt her mother had loved her so much more than she could ever imagine.
"I love you, Lace. I love you."
More tears came, but so did the sweet beckoning embrace of the eternal darkness and Megan Hunt allowed it to envelope her completely, finally.
Her eyes slipped closed and her body stilled, hanging limply against the wall at the hand of Wilson Polley.
Megan Hunt never heard the ding that followed mere seconds after she let the dark take her away.
-o0o-
"I spoke with the night shift guys, they haven't seen anyone."
"Not even Megan?"
Sam shook her head, "No. I had them check for her car and they said it's still there."
"Then she's still in the building," Peter concluded as they rode the elevator to the seventh floor.
"Looks like it," Sam said, scoffing slightly, "Can you believe she's still working?"
Peter couldn't help but smirk, "I can. It's Megan."
"Yeah, well, I'm me and I wanna get back to my future godchild's party," Sam checked her watch, "I'm going to haul her ass off her chair if I have to."
"I'll help," Peter grinned.
The elevator bell dinged, signaling they had arrived on their floor. Nothing seemed to show any signs for cause of alarm, both of them momentarily letting their worries ebb away. They stepped off, ready to toss their own two cents at the ME when they rag on her for being late only to be faced with a sight neither expected to encounter.
Wilson Polley was holding up the body of Dr. Megan Hunt against him like a human shield.
But even then, that wasn't the most alarming aspect of the situation. Rather, it was the sight of the limp and unmoving doctor in the grasp of the killer with his hand around her neck and a manic glint in his eyes. His other hand held the all too familiar tool against her body, the tip digging into the unconscious woman's side. It looked as if the madman was holding up the doctor, unconscious and completely unaware.
She was so still it wasn't hard to think that maybe they'd come too late.
-o0o-
"WILSON!"
Immediately, both Sam and Peter drew their weapons, aiming them right at Polley as he stood, hiding behind the petite woman in a slight crouch. The two didn't fire but they kept their guns trained on him. It was hard to take a shot, not without risking their colleague's life in the process but they kept their aim sharp, ready to take the first possible opportunity they could.
Sam kept her focus on Polley, waiting for him to mess up and get a possible angle on him. Peter, on the other hand, while he had his gun trained on the madman and ready to cover Sam, also tried to assess the status of the woman he'd been working with side by side for the better part of nearly a year.
Megan hung limply against Polley, her back pressed against his chest, her head kept upright by his obviously tight grip on her neck. There was no sign of life from her and from what Peter could see, she'd been through hell in the hands of the serial killer.
Her wrists were bound together in front of her with duct tape and, to his horror, he realized he could also see blood on her face. And it didn't end there—Peter could also detect bruises already forming on her temple, down to the side of her face and possibly under one eye. Her clothes were in disarray, her feet exposed and the shoes she adored so missing. Peter tried to remember what she'd been wearing that day and found he couldn't.
But that didn't matter because no matter how bad she looked, Peter's main hope was her being alive.
Yet she simply hung there, her feet—grotesquely stained with what looked like blood as well—dragged on the tile floors and she showed no signs of attempting to hold herself up. Her tangled and slightly matted red hair hung around her face like a curtain, head lolling forward slightly as her captor maintained his grip on her. If she was alive, Peter had no way of knowing for certain.
"Wilson, let the doctor go and put your hands up!" Sam demanded, "Let her go!"
"I let her go, you shoot me," Polley taunted, "Sorry, no dice. Pick another card…besides, she's quite a prize, you know. Smells lovely. And very nice to hold…all woman."
"Wilson Polley, I will NOT ask again!"
The fugitive simply laughed, "What are you going to do, Detective? Shoot her to get to me? Go ahead!" he moved even closer to Megan's body, nuzzling her behind the ear with a sinister grin, "But I can't promise my hand won't slip…then again, who knows if the doc's going to feel it or not? She could be dead, alive…who knows for sure?"
"Wilson, let Dr. Hunt go! I don't wanna shoot you!"
"Of course you do," Polley laughed then looked at Peter, "Especially him, right, Mr. Dunlop? I've got your partner and the longer you let me hold on to her, the less chance you see her open those lovely hazel eyes of hers." He smirked, "Yes, hazel…we've been spending the better part of the time getting better acquainted. So, really, this is entirely up to you because I've had my time with her…what do you say?"
"You can't think we're letting you walk out of here," Peter reasoned, a feet or so behind Sam and it took everything in him not to rush the man. It was the sight of his partner hanging like a broken doll that stopped him from doing something stupid. "Not like this. Just let Megan go and we can—"
"What? Shoot me? Throw me back in that hole?" Polley smirked, "No deal. And you better keep those safeties on, officers, because believe me, if I go down…I'm taking her with me straight to hell."
"Polley, stop and think for two seconds—either you get killed or—"
"—I kill her," with a maniacal grin, "Well, it really doesn't take a genius, doesn't it?"
Peter watched the man, his eyes widening as he realized his intent. It was there, clear as day, in his glinting eyes. Megan could still be alive, but from the way Polley's eyes practically glimmered with glee, it was obvious her time was running out fast.
"Wilson," he tried again though instinct told him it was a waste of time, "Don't even think about—"
"Think about what? This?" with that, Polley moved the hand holding the embalming hook abruptly, viciously moving to plunge the sharp tool into Megan's body.
He had almost succeeded if not for the loud bang that came, the sound bouncing off the walls through the empty floor, jerking him backwards.
The bullet pierced straight through his clothes and pain shot right through his system, startling Polley enough to drop the hook. It clattered to the ground, slipping from his hand as his arm reacted to the bullet that mercilessly tore through his flesh. He screamed, stumbling back and let go of the unconscious woman, allowing both Sam and Peter to move in with the detective heading towards Polley to subdue him.
Peter went straight to Megan, unable to reach her in time to catch her and knelt down next to her. He didn't waste time and moved with his fingers on her neck, feeling for a pulse, barely noticing how her skin almost felt cool to the touch. Behind him, he didn't even notice Sam reading Polley his rights in between telling him to settle down, most likely not even bothering to be gentle with the injured criminal.
"Sam!" Peter called just as he shifted his partner's body onto her back. He pulled out a small Swiss knife from his pocket and ripped off the tape that held her wrists together then tilted her head to clear her airway. He bent down, placing his ear close to her mouth and cursed when he couldn't hear or feel her breathing, "Sam! She's not breathing! Megan?"
"I'm calling an ambulance right now," the Detective said as she kept Polley pinned facedown with her knee in the middle of his back, uncaring he was losing blood from the gunshot wound nor the fact that he was wailing. She called for dispatch, summoning an ambulance and gave out the necessary urgent information.
"Megan," Peter breathed as he positioned his hands on her chest, "Megan, come on, wake up! It's Peter. Can you hear me? Megan?"
Sam watched helplessly as she held Polley down, watching Peter while he began chest compressions, counting under his breath in between steadily imploring the doctor to awaken.
While it had crossed his mind at one point or another, not once did it ever occur to Peter Dunlop the first time his lips would touch that of Megan Hunt's, it would be under these circumstances. It wasn't habitual that thoughts of the sort would come to mind, but he was a man and she was an attractive woman—such things were inevitable and of all the possible scenarios he had thought of, this had never come close.
But it was happening and with the desperate effort of trying to revive her, it didn't even register in his mind that his lips had indeed touched his partner's.
Peter breathed life into Megan twice, stopping only for a moment to listen before resuming the process. She hadn't responded, not a shift nor a twitch of a finger. But Peter pressed on and kept steady count, cursing even louder each time she failed to show any signs of change.
"Don't do this," he mumbled, repeating the process of attempting to resuscitate her, "Don't do this, Megan. Lacey needs you. She needs you. Don't you leave her, don't you dare. Come on, Megan…don't give up. You don't even know what that means."
"It's too late," Polley suddenly said, laughing even as Sam jerked his body, pressing down on his shoulder, "She's gone…better think fast what you're going to say to that daughter of hers. Mommy just had to go!"
"Shut up!" Peter snarled, resuming chest compressions once more, "Where is that damned ambulance?"
"Dead, dead, dead," Polley sang, "Ding dong, the witch is dead—"
"Shut up or I'm going put another bullet in your ass!" Sam yelled, pulling the man onto his feet and shoved him to the nearest wall, "You got the right to remain silent!"
"It won't matter now, won't it?" Polley grinned even as he winced, "I won."
It took everything within Detective Sam Baker not to smash his smug face right into the wall over and over again. It would be far less than what he actually deserved, but it would help with the steadying stream of rage flowing through her system. It was only the idea of being the one responsible for letting the bastard walk free based on a technicality that helped keep her temper in check. She wasn't about to hand him a get out of jail free card.
"Megan, come on! Wake up! Damn it, Megan!"
Just then, the elevators opened and the paramedics finally arrived. They went to work, pushing Peter aside and fired off questions as they tended to the unconscious doctor who still hadn't shown any sign of life. He fell back, breathing heavily from the effort and with a shaking hand wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, unable to take his eyes off of Megan Hunt.
He was sure he was going to throw up but he willed himself not to. Instead, Peter sat back, and proceeded to hold his head in his hands as he tried to breathe properly, sweat and—though he was unaware—tears trickling over his cheeks. He watched helplessly on while the two people worked on his partner, answering as much as of their questions as he could, barely able to keep focus.
When the time came to take her away, Peter didn't hesitate, moving with them as he kept his eyes on her. Though he wasn't entirely aware of it, he continued to speak to her in hushed whispers, urging her to wake up with her name in a seemingly endless repeat on his lips.
By the time the elevator doors closed, his back was against the wall, unable to keep himself upright without assistance as his legs threatened to give underneath him. Peter's hopes practically plummeted along with his insides as the doctor maintained status quo, stubborn to the very end.
Flashes of memories of his last girlfriend, Dani, who had died not too long ago flooded his mind. It had been under different circumstances, a different time, but seeing the blood, feeling that same barrage of helplessness and devastation—it assaulted Peter Dunlop to the point that made his heart constrict painfully in his chest.
He had been unable to save Dani then and watching Megan lying so still when he was so used to trying to catch up with her half the time, he felt the same crippling feeling of failure as if he'd been the one to land each and every blow on her battered body. It didn't help that his last conversation with her earlier that evening hadn't ended in the best of terms. He had given up on her and said words he now knew he didn't truly mean.
Peter could accept if she too gave up on him, but he at least wanted the chance to take it all back. He had been angry and maybe a part of him did mean it in the heat of the moment, but not now. He hadn't given up, hadn't meant that he would no longer be there for her.
He pressed his back against the elevator wall, breathing raggedly as he absently clawed at the elevator's rail, trying to hang on to whatever he could to keep himself up when his knees could barely hold him up. His eyes fell on Megan, unable to stop the misery from showing on his face.
She still hadn't regained consciousness and the way the medics were continuing to work on her with an Ambu bag, it wasn't at all looking well. Peter wiped his face with a shaky hand, breathing in deeply with his heart hammering against his chest. He didn't want to think, didn't want to recognize whatever sign there may be in front of him because that would mean facing the reality that maybe, just maybe, he had failed to save someone he cared about once more.
He had tried to save Dani the same way even as she slipped away from him, he didn't know if he could face the same thing happening all over again with his stubborn, flame-haired partner. He had tried so hard to bring Dani back but he had failed. With Megan—he didn't want to think about it.
Peter bent forward, staying out of the way of the medics and fought the urge to vomit once more when it came back at him like a battering ram. He looked up, catching a glimpse of a tangled lock of red hair, blocking out the voices in the small box and focused on the woman he'd come to know and care about.
"Come back, Megan…come back."