My, oh my. The response to the first chapter has left me absolutely stunned. *_* (This, apparently, is a stunned/dazed emoticon.) You guys rock!
Thanks again to Phoenix, who nit-picks like none other. ;) Oh, and I forgot this last time: I don't own Covert Affairs or it's amazing characters. Alas!
I'm just gonna get down to it. Hope you enjoy the chapter!
**Two**
Auggie insists that they don't tell Joan or their other coworkers anything about the telescope accident until they know for sure what's going on. So, after Annie swears Stu to absolute secrecy, she guides Auggie as she normally would outside of the building to meet the ambulance. It's a challenge to keep up the appearance of being blind, especially since he's never seen the new DPD Command Center.
"We really do have windows," he whispers as they head toward the elevators.
Once they arrive at the nearest hospital ER, he's taken away for an array of tests and scans. Auggie does his best to remain patient, but after spending five hours in and out of CT machines and multiple exam rooms—and still having no answers about why his vision suddenly returned—the irritability starts to set in.
Around eight o'clock, he's wheeled into another exam room. Annie is inside, waiting for him. She places a brown paper bag in his lap. Inside are a turkey sandwich and a bottle of water.
"Thanks," he says, smiling in true appreciation. Shoveling hospital food into his empty stomach would only make him more irritable at this point.
"Did they tell you anything?" she asks.
He shakes his head minutely, still afraid that too much movement will cause him to lose his sight again.
"How'd you smuggle this past the nurses' station?" he asks around a mouthful of meat and bread. "Or yourself for that matter?"
"I told the nurse I was Annie Anderson," she says, "your sister."
His laughter nearly makes him choke on his food. "And the nurse believed you?"
Her mischievous smile gives away her answer. "No, but I got in anyway."
"It was a male nurse, wasn't it?" he asks as he finishes the sandwich.
"Maaaaybe." She draws the first vowel out in a teasing tone that makes him chuckle again.
As much as he dislikes the idea of her flirting her way past hospital staff, he's glad that Annie's here now. If it weren't for her, he'd probably be more anxious than he already is, though he's still plenty nervous to find out what's going on with his head.
Annie starts pacing, but the room is so small that she covers the area in four strides each way. He watches her in the silence that falls easily between them. The stiletto heels he's so used to hearing lengthen her legs nicely. His eyes travel up from her feet slowly, taking in the curve of her backside, the slim, athletic build of her upper body. She clasps her elbows with her hands, holding her folded arms in front of her. Her face is set in contemplation and concern. While he's not attuned to her facial expressions, he can practically feel the worry and the tension exuding from her, can hear it in her steady footfalls.
"No need for you to frown," he says casually, wanting to lighten the mood again while they wait for the doctor. "If I remember correctly, and I may not be considering I just suffered head trauma, it was me who was hit upside the head. Not you."
She stops pacing and sits in an empty chair opposite from him. "I just don't like seeing you hurt."
"This?" he asks, indicating the small gash near his hairline that required twelve stitches. "This is nothing."
"You know that's not what I mean."
"Oh right," he says, crumpling the paper bag and tossing it into the trashcan. "Almost forgot being able to see is a problem."
He says it so she can't miss his sarcasm, and his efforts change her frown into a near scowl. Annoyance or anger flashes across her eyes at his snarky comment, but she doesn't respond. Auggie kicks himself mentally for projecting his anger at her, but sarcasm has always been his go-to defensive maneuver.
In truth, he's terrified. There is no logical reason he can think of to explain the sudden return of his vision. The explosion that took his sight damaged both of his optic nerves irreparably; the connection between each of his optic nerves and maculae were completely severed according to his previous surgeons and ophthalmologists. Science dictates that it should be impossible for him to see, and he has always been a man of science, not a man of faith. He doesn't believe in miracles, at least not where his vision is concerned.
Annie has known him long enough to understand that sometimes anger or fear gets the best of his tongue. She knows that he's angry at the situation, the lack of answers, not her.
"I just hope it's not serious," she says quietly.
"You and me both."
Auggie rises from his wheelchair and picks up Annie's pacing habit. He detours from her route and goes into the adjoining bathroom, stopping in front of the sink. It's been more than two years since he last looked in a mirror. The face staring back at him seems almost foreign. A deep blue, almost purple, bruise crawls up the right side of his face and underneath his right eye. The gauze bandage covering the stitched gash on his forehead is mostly covered by his hair. His skin looks rougher than he remembers, but that may just be from the five o'clock shadow that has sprouted a little late in the day. It's strange to look at himself after so much time.
He's not sure how long he stands there, assessing himself, but he's pulled away from his reflection when another figure appears in the glass. Her arms are still crossed, but she's smiling. He returns it with a grin of his own.
"I'm pretty darn handsome," he says.
"Don't forget modest," she responds.
"So you agree with me."
She rolls her eyes, the smile widening. "Just because you're injured doesn't mean I'm going to feed your ego."
He laughs and looks back at his reflection one more time. "I look like Two-Face."
He turns around with one hand covering the battered side of his face. "Now I'm good-guy Auggie. . ." he says, then switches to cover the unmarked side of his face, "and now I'm badass Auggie."
Annie shakes her head. "Well, if you're making Batman jokes, you must be okay."
Two raps on the exam room door pull them away from the momentary humor and back into the tension brought on by uncertainty. The doctor enters the room as Auggie and Annie take their seats again.
"Hello, Mr. Anderson," the redheaded neurologist that oversaw his earlier tests says in greeting. "I'm sorry for the delay, but there were some minor complications with your CT scans."
"That's not the most reassuring news to open with," he says, going back to the sarcasm. He just wants to find out what's wrong and if it can be fixed, assuming it needs fixing.
The woman is slightly flustered by his rapid retort, looking down at her clipboard for the answers. She finds her footing and begins again. "Except for your vision, everything seems to be in order. You're not concussed. No hemorrhaging, clots, or intracranial pressure."
"What's the catch then? Why did it take this long to tell me everything's fine? Clearly, it's not."
"The CT scans were distorted because of metal fragments. That's why we had to rescan you."
"What metal fragments?" Annie asks.
He tilts his head in her direction, but keeps his focus on the doctor, trying to get a read on her. "From my accident. There was a shard of shrapnel it was too risky to remove. The operation could've killed me."
"I can't confirm that since your previous medical records haven't been released to us concerning that incident," the doctor says with a frown as though she's the one who has been inconvenienced.
He supposes that is one downfall of not being taken to a government hospital. All of his medical records concerning injuries sustained during field operations are classified and unattainable.
"Do you think the shrapnel has something to do with why I can see?"
"No," she says, "not at all."
The doctor places the CT scan on the light board mounted on the wall so that she can explain her findings with a visual aid. Auggie peers at it closely, trying to discern the source of his sight from the picture. There are two small dots on the scan, near the front of his brain. He can't begin to guess what they are though, other than metal fragments.
"According to this scan, there wasn't any shrapnel."
It doesn't make any sense. There has to be shrapnel in his head. He's been walking through Langley security every day with a medical card to get through the metal detectors his head routinely sets off. But from the images he's being presented with, the doctor is right. There is no shrapnel, just two smaller, almost refined looking fragments. Someone has lied to him, in one way or another.
His mind is still processing the information when Annie speaks up. "But aren't those metal fragments on the scan?"
"Yes, they appear to be. They almost look like surgical implants, but I'm not familiar with this model or its function."
"But where did they come from?" Annie continues. "Wouldn't Auggie remember if he had implants surgically inserted?"
The doctor turns from Annie to Auggie, looking at him expectantly. "I was hoping Mr. Anderson would be able to answer that."
Yeah, he wishes he could answer that question too. But he can't. Because he has no idea how those two pieces of metal got inside of his head. No effin' clue. The feeling that he's been betrayed by someone keeps circling around his mind, taunting him. How could he not know about this?
"I haven't had any operations since Tikrit," he grinds out.
His tone is a clue to the doctor that he wants answers now, that he doesn't have any more information he might be holding back. She points to the dots on the scan, drawing invisible circles with the tip of her capped pen on the printout that do little to help him understand the anatomy of it all.
"The fragments are attached to your optic nerves," she says. "I can't say for certain, but your fall may have dislodged them from their original position, which is why you can see now even though you couldn't before. Think of it as an appliance with faulty wiring. If you move the wire an inch to the left, it turns on. Move it an inch to the right, it turns off."
Her explanation makes some sense, but there is still one question that she hasn't answered. It's probably the most important question, as far as he's concerned. And there has never been more at stake riding on a single answer than there is now.
He takes a deep breath. "Was it these fragments that made me blind?"
"Not as far as we can tell," she says. "There's still significant damage to your optic nerves. The metal is acting as a conduit, a connection, between the optic nerve transmitters and the neuro-receptors that tell your brain what your eyes are seeing. Without that connection, you'll be just as blind as you have been for the past two years."
Auggie nods and falls silent, thinking.
Once again, it is Annie who breaks the silence, stepping in just when he needs her to. "What's the next step?"
The doctor turns off the light board and removes the CT scan, tucking it away in a large envelope before responding. "I highly recommend surgery to remove the metal fragments. It could be dangerous to keep them in place. One more bump, however small, could disturb the metal and potentially damage other areas of the brain."
"But," Auggie states, "if I get the surgery, I'll go back to being blind."
"Yes."
He appreciates the upfront answer after all of the uncertainty. "Do I have some time to think about it?"
"Of course," the doctor says. "I understand it will be a hard decision. However, in my opinion: the faster you have the surgery, the better."
After a few parting words of caution and a reiteration of the importance of the surgery, Annie and Auggie are allowed to leave.
Spending nearly seven hours in a hospital should leave him feeling more weary, more drained. But the desire to know the truth about the metal fragments in his head burns in his blood, fueling him with angry energy. Somehow, some way, the Company is behind this. It has to be.
As they reach Annie's Volkswagen, he says, "I need you to take me somewhere."
"Where to?" she asks.
"The Campbells'."
A/N: So, this chap was a little on the science-y side, but I had to explain what was going on inside Auggie's noggin'. I tried to research as much of the medical stuff as possible, but apologize if there are any gross errors. I also clearly took some liberties with Auggie's medical history. *Waves creative license and grins*
I admit to being addicted to your reviews and thoughts. XD
Special shout-outs to my non-registered reviewers: Sam V, nw, and Madil93! Zoraya h, I hope you weren't too upset. My fingers just don't type that fast. :)