Standard Disclaimers in Part One. Same Authors. Same Rating. Feedback Welcome!

Chapter Two

After high tailing it back to the Suburban and driving faster that he should have, Colby had gotten to the ER and dropped into the nearest available chair. The seat felt good, the air conditioning felt good, not moving felt good. He tilted his head against the wall; his worry for Don was foremost in his mind. He shut his eyes, running through a mental first aid book in his head. He had done what he could for Don and now, had to wait until someone came and told him that all would be well.

Then, and only then, would he be able to breathe again.

"Agent Granger?" A female voice made Colby open his eyes.

That was quick. A little too quick. A sick feeling took up residence in the pit of his stomach. What was he going to tell Alan and Charlie? He eyed the woman in the lab coat and raised his hand. "I'm Agent Granger."

The woman came over to Colby. "I'm Dr. Sekilli. I'm a resident in the E.R. Dr. Leporre is working on your partner right now, and he asked me to come out and see how you were doing."

Is that all? He looked down at his grass-stained pants and rumpled, half-dry shirt. He looked back up at the doctor. "I've had better days."

"I would hope so. I'd like to check you out and make sure you're all right. Can you come with me?"

Colby nodded and climbed to his feet, following Dr. Sekilli into the E.R., wondering where Don was.

"He's over there." She pointed to a room with a closed door at the far end of the E.R.

Colby looked at her. How did she know what he was thinking? Her boss hadn't keeled over the golf course right in front of her! And why was the door closed?

"You didn't have to ask." Dr. Sekilli led him into a curtained off cubicle at the opposite end from Don and pointed at the gurney. "Have a seat. I'll be as quick as I can."

He settled on the gurney and let himself be poked and prodded.

After checking his vital signs, she said, "Your heart rate is a bit elevated and your temp is up about a degree, but considering where you've been and what you've been doing, I'm not surprised."

Colby nodded, his mind elsewhere.

"Any lightheadness?" She asked.

"No."

"Any headaches? Nausea, tightness in your chest?"

"Nope."

There came a bang and a clatter, much like someone dropping a tray of instruments and Colby could have sworn he heard Don yell. He moved to get up but Dr. Sekilli put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Agent Granger, you will only get in the way."

Colby shot her a glare that was completely missed. What Dr. Sekilli said was right but that didn't help at all. It didn't answer the one question burning in his mind. What was happening to Don?

She eyed Colby for a long moment, listened for any other unusual noises, then returned to her exam. "My suggestion to you is to go over to the cafeteria or the gift shop we've got here and get some Gatorade." She said, upon finishing a few moments later. "Somehow, I can't see you drinking an flavor of Pedilyte willingly."

Colby grimaced but nodded.

"It may taste terrible but it'll help you out, really."

"Okay." C'mon, let me out of here so I can go find out what's happening to my boss.

Dr. Sekilli showed Colby another way out of the E.R. "When Dr. Leporre is done, he'll come and talk to you."

Colby looked at her. Was this woman a mind-reader?

"You didn't have to ask." she said, repeating one of her earlier statements. Even though she didn't say anything more, clearly she was used to dealing with cops and knew how concerned and protective partners could be when one of them was down.

"Dr. Sekilli?" A male voice echoed from the E.R.

"Duty calls," she said and left Colby standing in the hall.

Though he couldn't, or rather wouldn't, open his eyes Don knew he was no longer moving inside the bright white blurry boxy contraption. But he couldn't identify any of the voices he heard other than 'Tommy' and nothing the supposed paramedic was saying made any damn sense.

"…the arrhythmias weren't your standard pre-MI, more like what I've seen before in young runners who pushed their bodies too far."

"A flutter rather than a vee-fib or vee-tach or pee-vee-cees?" A new older-sounding voice answered Tommy and the tone made Don want to snarl at the man.

"Yes, Doc."

"Okay, good. We've got him from here, Tommy. Michelle, get on the horn to the on-call cardiologist and get lab up here to draw blood for a cardio workup, just to hedge our bets."

"Right away, Doctor. Trauma Two is open for you." Another voice, a female one this time.

Don felt the surface under him jolt as it hit something, then the movement stopped. He had the sensation of being lifted, there was a joggle, then clammy and damn cold coverings were tossed over his body. A bright light, brighter than what he'd been sensing through his closed eyelids, seemed to focus on his face, forcing a groan out of his throat.

"Agent Eppes, are you awake?" Asked the older voice he now suspected belonged to a so-called doctor, or at least someone masquerading as one. "No response, Chris, where is my… ah, thank you. Agent Eppes, I need you to wake up and talk to me. Come on, don't make me use a pain-stimulus."

He didn't know what the hell the doctor was talking about, but he knew he wasn't about to open his eyes. He just wouldn't. Not with that damn bright light waiting on the other side of his blood red eyelids. Then again, it's amazing how fast a person's eyelids will fly open when someone jabs a knife in your bare foot.

"Oooow!"

"Good, neuro-functions respond well to light stimulus." The doctor, a carbon copy of Wyatt Earp right down to the handlebar mustache, dropped something shiny and silver looking on a tray to his right, somewhere behind Don's head, then turned back to look at him. At least, that's what Don assumed what was happening. He couldn't really tell - the man seemed to have the same sort of blurry edges 'Tommy' had had. "Agent Eppes, I'm Doctor Leporre, I am the Chief of Emergency Medicine here at Pacifica Hospital. You were brought here by ambulance after you collapsed at the LA National Golf Course."

Golf course? Oh crap! Cooley! Don tried to move, to get up, but he couldn't seem to find the strength to do it. What in the hell were these people pumping into him and where the hell was Granger? A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and held him down, without much effort.

"Doctor, he's trying to get up."

"Chris, get another IV ready to go once Lab has drawn their samples. I want him on chilled normal saline and 5 dextrose, and run it full open. If he doesn't settle, give him a very light dose of Valium, but let's try to avoid sedation if we can. Also, call down to Central Supply and see if they have a cooling blanket available or can get one to us in a hurry."

Ignoring the hand on his shoulder, Don tried to get up again, only to find more pressure applied and his strength totally nonexistent. "Oowt o' 'ere."

"Agent Eppes, you're not getting out of here until you're back to normal. If you behave and play nice with the nursing staff, that might be in six to seven hours. More if your labs come back and I don't like the results." The lanky man in the white coat over a neon-lime green shirt stood up and leaned over to look into Don's eyes. "Do you understand me, Agent Eppes?"

"Noo…yesssss." Damn, why couldn't he talk right? Had he somehow hit his head, or were the drugs they were pumping into him affecting his mouth?

"Good. I'll be back in just a few minutes; I want to check on--" What he wanted to check on, Don didn't hear over the abrupt eruption of ear shattering noise. Finally, whatever had been holding him back let up just enough to allow him to get halfway off the table, tangling his legs up in something and wrapping something slick around his throat. Ungentle hands and arms enveloped his upper body and unceremoniously plopped him back onto the cold table he'd just nearly managed to leave.

"That's it!" Dr. Leporre snapped. "5cc's of valium and, Chris, make sure someone is in here with him at all times."

"Yes, Doctor. Okay, Agent Eppes, I need you to lay here like a good boy and stay put, all right?" The warm voice belonged to a woman, of that Don was sure, but when he looked at her … damn! It was like looking at Major Houlihan, from the movie, not the TV series - but with the body of Hawkeye Pierce - from the series. No wonder he hadn't been able to get off the table!

All the strength he'd found earlier evaporated away like so much mist, and Don knew the chances of him leaving on his own any time soon was gone. So he started to make plans to bide his time and conserve his strength … until Chris, the Hawkeye bodied look-a-like of Major Houlihan from the movie came back and, with sure efficiency, slipped a little something into the IV line the paramedic had started and … and…

What was he thinking about again?