Here's chapter 2. Hope you enjoy it, please review. See chapter one for disclaimers.
Leading his friend to the car Reed tried to keep down the distractions. It was very much like walking his three-year-old to a vehicle…except Jimmy didn't whistle at every pretty girl they passed on the way. Malloy was able to walk better than when they brought him in, but only marginally. However, Reed had to remind himself that he wasn't hurting anymore, and that was the important part. He could handle playing babysitter for a few hours to spare his friend some pain. Or at least, that was what he told himself when Pete made siren noises all the way to the drugstore.
Before getting out, he made sure his friend still had his seatbelt on to discourage any wandering, took his keys out, and said "Stay put!" firmly, very much like he was talking to his son.
Pete nodded solemnly. "Okay. Hard to walk anyway."
A wave of compassion fell over Reed, and he remembered that it wasn't Pete's fault they were in this situation. "Here," he said, handing him the Quartermaster catalog from the back seat. Look through this. I need to get some new shoes. Why don't you see if you can help me out pick out a pair?"
"Ok." He began flipping through the pages, and Jim felt safe enough to leave him in the car. Five minutes later, he was back in the car, with Pete dozing in the passenger seat. Gently removing the book from his hand, he tossed it into the backseat and started the black and white. He wished he could just take Pete on to his house and drop him off, but they had to finish up at the station before he could take him home. Somehow, he had to get him at least out of his uniform shirt and brass, change himself, and turn in the paperwork. Preferably while having as little contact with the other guys as possible. Especially Ed Wells.
He woke his partner up at the station. "Pete…come on. We gotta go change. Think you can make it?"
Pete nodded agreeably. "Sure thing, buddy." He opened the door and staggered to his feet. Jim was at his side in an instant.
"Easy, Pete! Come on, we'll get out of here quick and get you to the house and let you get some sleep, ok?"
Pete looked up at him. "Thanks, partner. You're a good friend, you know that?"
Reed smiled. "Thank you. Come on…" He led Malloy through the halls to the locker room, thankful that they didn't meet anyone on the way. The last thing Pete needed was to have to interact with others in the condition he was in. Some of the other guys wouldn't be quite so…understanding. Point of fact, they would tease him mercilessly. For a very long time. Like until his retirement dinner.
Thankfully, the locker room was also empty. He sat Pete down on the bench and opened his locker, trying to figure out the best way to get Pete out of uniform enough to get him home. Figuring the pants would be a useless effort, he focused on what he could do. "Can you get your uniform shirt off?"
Malloy cocked his head to one side and looked at Reed. "'Course I can! Wha'da ya think I am, some kind of invalid or something?" He raised his hands to undo the buttons, but his fingers just wouldn't cooperate. He looked up at Jim pitifully. "Can't I just put on m' jacket?"
The way he was slurring his words worried Jim more than the fact that he couldn't unbutton his own shirt. Kneeling down in front of his addled partner, he said, "I got it, Pete. Just hold still." He carefully unbuttoned the dark blue uniform shirt and pulled it back onto his partner's shoulders. Malloy put his arms back to slip it off and winced. "That hurt?" Reed asked. Pete held up his fingers about a millimeter apart. "A little?" Pete nodded, and Jim considered giving him one of the pain pills. But anymore medication and he'd be carrying Pete home.
He carefully hung Pete's uniform shirt in his own locker, certain that his friend wouldn't be able to open his own locker, and pulled on his jacket. He considered giving it to Pete to wear over his white t-shirt, but it was tight on his own slender frame. It would never fit Malloy's bulkier physique. He would be okay to make it to the car.
Reed grabbed his keys and put out his hands to help Malloy to his feet. The elder cop made a face, again remarkably like his godson. "I can do it!" He exclaimed, slowly pulled himself to his feet, and promptly fell forward to his knees. Reed caught him before he fell the rest of the way down.
"Easy, Pete!" Reed cried, alarmed. He helped him back to his feet. "Let's go home."
"My home or your home?"
"My home. I can't leave you alone like this, you can't even stand up!"
Pete nodded. "Nope. Can't leave me alone…my hands won't work. How would I change the channels on the TV?"
Jim snorted with laughter. "Or put your key in your door? Come on, think you can walk?"
"I think so…can you ask the room to stop spinning?"
"Sure, but I don't think it will listen to me. My car, on the other hand will. Let's go."
They were almost to the door when their luck ran out. Brinkman opened the door to the locker room and froze as he saw Reed standing there with Malloy clinging to his arm like a crutch. "Hiya, Boom-Boom!" Malloy exclaimed cheerfully. "We were just leaving."
Brinkman's eyes widened. "What's wrong with him? Is he drunk?"
"No, he's not drunk!" Reed growled. "He's medicated! He got hurt and I had to take him to the hospital!"
"Medicated?" Brinkman asked, concern furrowing his brow. For all the crap he gave Malloy and Reed, they were still friends. "What happened to him? Is he okay?"
Jim glanced at his partner and opened his mouth to answer when Pete answered for him. "I was attacked by a lion. See ya', Brinkman, we gotta go."
