He's on his way home after work. It's almost midnight, but Jack McCoy is kind of famous for putting in long hours at the office.
He's passing by the Warehouse District now, row after row of warehouses, some long abandoned.
All Jack wants to do is to get home, and pour himself into bed, get a little sleep before going back to work again.
The sudden appearance of a glowing figure, indubitably female, appearing right in front of his Yamaha, causes him to swerve, the bike colliding headlong, into a brick wall…
Bellevue ER
Dr. Liam Kennedy's shift had been quiet. So, it's perhaps only fair that he should pay for it now, at the end of his shift.
The EMT's are bringing the victim of a motorcycle accident in now, and Kennedy pauses to thank the Lord that the man, roughly in his forties to fifties, had had the common sense to wear a bike helmet.
Not that it seems to have helped all that much.
The man is in total arrest. Not breathing, heart stopped.
Someone's manually pumping oxygen into the man's lungs, as Kennedy does the chest compressions, and someone else readies the shock pads…
Jack McCoy stands in front of the dilapidated warehouse, and he can't, for the life of him, understand why he's here. He turns, looking for his bike. It's nowhere to be found.
A girl stands just in front of the wall. She's short, looks to be just shy of twenty; wearing something that looks like a hospital gown.
A kid…
Short cropped hair so pale, it looks white; especially by the light of the moon.
She looks right at McCoy, with terrified eyes. Then he sees the blood…
She's covered in blood, from head to foot; from cuts all over her body.
Arms…
Legs…
Her torso, in particular…Just soaked in blood.
But it's the tear in her throat that alarms the attorney.
"Help me…" the girl's lips don't move, but McCoy hears her voice.
"Help me…"
Then, before he can frame a coherent thought, blinding light erupts, swallowing everything…
"He's back! Normal Sinus Rhythm!"
Everything is too bright, too loud. Jack McCoy's body feels sluggish. He can't move.
Someone bends over, blocking the light, holding his head steady, flashing a light into his eyes.
"Mr. McCoy," the man said. "You were in an accident. You're going to be fine. Do you understand?"
McCoy blinks owlishly in the bright light.
"The girl…"
It comes out barely comprehensible; has to be the breathing tube still down his throat. But apparently the man understands what McCoy was trying to say.
"There was no one else there, Mr. McCoy. Just you and your bike…"
McCoy loses the rest of whatever the man was saying as he falls into brilliant haze…
Less than a week later, Jack McCoy was released from Bellevue, with instructions to take things easy for a week.
That was when he started having the nightmares...