Christmas/Anniversary 2008 Bonus Scene #1
2 Years 65 Days 2 Many
Because everyone who has read this story has been so nice and well-behaved, the Evil Twins have written a special holiday/anniversary missing scene for everyone's enjoyment. So, enjoy! This missing scene takes place in Part Five: It Helps To Have Family of Two Years....
MERRY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY CHANUKAH!
Miracles of miracles, it only took Alan half-an-hour to reach UCLA Medical Center. By the time he had parked and was walking in the front door, the time was just a shade past 5:30 p.m. He approached the Information Counter in the lobby with the intention of asking where, exactly, Colby was when he was intercepted by a young man in a business suit.
"Mister Eppes?" He asked. "I'm Agent Jimmy Messer. Don asked me to meet you." He showed Alan his id and then led him over to the bank of elevators. Agent Messer said nothing else until the elevator arrived, they both stepped inside and the doors closed. "Colby was admitted under a cover name - to protect him. We didn't want you asking for a dead man."
Alan nodded. "I understand. But what the hell happened?"
Jimmy let out a small chortle. "Don said that would be your first question and, I'm sorry sir, but I can't tell you anything else." He winced when Alan Eppes nailed him with a look that was only slightly less intense than the one his eldest son used on perps. "Honestly, I can't tell you. I don't have the full story, but Don did tell me to tell you he'd update you as soon as he could get away from the office and the bosses and the debriefs from hell."
The elevator dinged when it reached the 4th floor. The doors slid open and the two men walked off the elevator. Agent Messer guided Alan to the ICU, and then left him standing in the doorway for a moment, while he went and spoke with the charge nurse.
Alan swallowed thickly, pushing aside his personal feelings of the place. He had spent FAR too much time in hospitals and the ICU for his comfort. Hell, it was only by the grace of God that it was Colby lying in a bed and not Donnie.
"Mr. Eppes?" Agent Messer was back. "Colby's in Room# 4. You're his uncle. Thanks for coming. I've got to get back out there." Agent Messer flashed him a smile and was gone.
Alan swallowed again, then made his way over to Room# 4. He paused in the doorway, then walked in. It wasn't Colby that he noticed first but a doctor standing there, holding a chart in one hand, at least, Alan assumed that the man was doctor, considering the white coat and stethoscope the man had draped around his neck
The doctor looked up when Alan walked in. "You must be his uncle." The doctor held out his hand. "Dr. Michael Simon."
Alan shook the man's hand. "Alan Eppes." He looked at Colby, lying entirely too still in the bed, half his face covered by an oxygen mask, tubes and wires coming out of him. "How's he doing?"
"He's going to have a rough time of it, as it is, we'll keep him under while we try to flush the various drugs that were used on him out of his system. And watch him for possible complications from the CPR that was done."
Alan's eyes widened. "CPR? Why?"
Dr. Simon flipped through the chart before answering. "Looks like the first instance was on the scene, his heart was induced into failure. Potassium Chloride, according to the report. Second time was on the rescue chopper."
Alan felt his stomach tie into a tight knot. "My God. Is he going to be all right?"
Dr. Simon shrugged. "If it was just cardiac arrest ... I'd say 'sure, he's young, he's in good overall health' and be happy. But with the ... crap that was used on him--" He shook his head. "The next 20 or so hours will tell us more. In the meantime, don't be surprised if he has nightmares, flinches at the lightest touch or even gets pained by the lowest light levels in the room."
Alan swallowed. "His parents are on the way. They'll be here in the next few hours." He paused, not really wanting to add the next part of the sentence. "Will they be in time?"
"Yes. You, and he, have to believe that." Dr. Simon put the chart down on a nearby table and, surprisingly, leaned over Colby and spoke directly to the young man. "Colby . . . you have to be strong. You have to fight this. You don't want your Uncle to have to give your folks bad news when they get here, do you?" He smiled as he straightened up and looked directly at Alan
"Yes, I know his real name. Don't worry . . . I won't tell a soul." With that, Dr. Simon removed himself from the room, leaving Alan alone with his 'nephew'.
Alan watched him go, then settled into the nearest chair, pulled out his copy of the L.A. Times and started to flip through it, looking for something interesting to read to his '3rd son'.
"Oh dear ... looks like that Lolan girl got drunk & stupid at the clubs again..." Alan told Colby. He had already been through the comics and the sports and was now on the society section.
"That's Lohan, Mr. Eppes." A nurse came into the room to check on Colby.
He peered over the top of his reading glasses at her. "Then the Times needs to proof-read their stories better. I've read better over at that online news page, Buzzwire, than I've read in here in a long time."
"I'm not arguing with you, Mr. Eppes. The only reason I know is because my niece is glued to the society pages herself." The nurse said. She checked the machines surrounding Colby, then made some notations to the chart in her hand.
"Oh, well, I'm not glued to them . . . just don't want to read the depressing stuff to him, ya know?"
The nurse nodded. "It's good you read to him. He can hear you, even if he doesn't respond."
"That's what I believe ... Colby is almost like a third son to me." He sighed as he folded the society pages back up and let them fall to the floor. "I just wish his job, and my eldest son's job as well, weren't as potentially hazardous."
"I understand but you know that you can only do so much."
"True." He stood up, as his back demanded it. "These chairs are not comfortable, are they?"
She chuckled. "Unfortunately not. Sorry."
"It's all right. Can I trouble you to stay with him for just a few minutes? I want to grab a cup of coffee from down the hall."
She smiled and nodded. "Okay."
Alan glanced at his watch before leaving, then again when he got back from the vending machine - he'd been gone for maybe 3 minutes, but in those three minutes, something had happened.
The nurse, plus two of her colleagues were in Colby's room, trying to get him to stop thrashing around. Dropping the cup, he ran in, got the gist of the situation, then pushed his way through and carefully placed his hands on Colby's shoulders and spoke gently to the injured agent.
"Colby! Colby James ... settle down. I'm back, you're not alone ... you're safe."
His words acted like magic on his son's youngest agent and Colby stopped thrashing around. For just a moment, Colby's eyes appeared to settle on Alan before closing as he settled back into a deep sleep cycle.
The nurse looked at Alan. "Mr. Eppes, in the future, I'll get you your coffee."
He nodded, then apologized. "Uh, watch your step out there ... I kinda dropped everything when I realized what was happening."
"That's all right. Spills happen. Cream and sugar?" She asked.
"Black." He pulled the chair close with a well-aimed hook of the toe, not wanting to loose physical contact with Colby just then - least he get upset again. "All right, Colby. Let's see what we can do about your nightmares, shall we?" He started to speak nonsensical words as he gently rubbed the back of Colby's arm and wrist, not caring one wit if the nurses thought him idiotic.
He had spoken the truth earlier to the doctor, he DID think of Colby James Granger as one of his sons ... just like he thought of David Sinclair as a son and Megan Reeves as the daughter he and Margaret wanted but never had. Larry Fleinhardt, however, he thought of as a brother. A suitable surrogate for Charlie's need of a academic father.
The nurse he had been speaking with herded the other two out of the room, returning a few moments later with a cup of coffee, which she put on the rolling table near the bed.
"If you need anything else, Mr. Eppes, just yell. My name is Terri, by the way, Terri Mitchell." The nurse said to him.
Alan nodded in acknowledgement, but never stopped his litany to Colby. At least, not until the monitor on the wall above the bed showed the younger man's heart had settled into a quiet rhythm. Then he stopped, picked up the now lukewarm cup of coffee and downed half of it in one gulp. Sitting back in the chair, he just watched Colby - waiting to see if the young man was going to panic again and pleased to see that he didn't.
The time passed, as pleasantly as could be expected under the circumstances. Alan worked on the crossword from the L.A. Times, asking Colby the occasional question but not expecting an answer. Once in a while, the nurse who came in to check on Colby would answer the question for Alan. Then, it happened. Colby started to wake up, on his own. Alan heard a rustling of bed sheets first and looked up in time to see the young man stirring, moving his hands and arms just a bit.
Alan put down the paper and stood. "Colby? Are you waking up?"
He watched as Colby's eyelids fluttered and with it his stomach. "Colby, you're safe. You're at UCLA Medical Center. Relax, if you can, I'm not going anywhere, son. Not until Gigi gets here and kicks me out."
His words made Colby forced his eyes open further and move his head looking for the voice. When Colby finally made eye contact with him, it was like a huge weight had been lifted from Alan's chest.
"Safe?" Colby asked, his voice slow and slurring the last letter of the word, his eyes not quite able to maintain contact with Alan.
"Yes, you're safe, son." Alan told him. While it was good that Colby woke up on his own, it broke Alan's heart to see him this way.
"'kay." Colby mumbled, his eyelids drifting shut. Moments later, much to Alan's shock, tears started to roll down Colby's face.
"Shush, CeeJay...it's all right. You're safe. You're going to be okay." He told the stricken younger man, brushing his hand across Colby's forehead like he had done when Donnie and Charlie had been kids. That simple action seemed to trigger some kind of release in Colby for he seemed to relax and drop back to sleep.
Alan stood there a moment more, just in case Colby wasn't completely asleep but when nothing happened, he sat back down, pulled out the New York Times Crossword Puzzle and began working on it.
"Colby, what's a four letter word for bill of fare?"
END