He didn't plan to tell Gillian about taking the torture for her sake.
She never needed to know.
It wasn't important.
She was safe. And so was he, now.
Everything could just work this way. Things would be easier if she didn't know and didn't feel guilty about it forever and ever.
He was okay now.
For the most part.
There was still pain. Physical and mental. He couldn't forget it. No matter how drunk he got, he could still remember the pain and remember Shaughn's face. He couldn't help it! It was tearing away at him. Plus, everytime he moved, the pain was right there. Undeniable. Unconditional. Sounds like God's love. Apparently that's how God's love worked. He wasn't sure, but that's what he'd heard. Apparently He would never stop loving you. Apparently He didn't care what you did. He was there for you.
Yeah, that matches the pain. No matter what Cal did... it was still there for him. It never stopped.
He'd taken pain medications given to him by doctors, but they didn't do jack. They didn't even numb the excruciating pain!
Morphine helped, on the other hand. But it didn't do good things to his mind. He was already a little messed up up there... this didn't help.
He'd stared at Gillian, dizzy out of his mind, "Hoowww, youuurrr...?" He couldn't even form words well.
He couldn't talk to her at all.
He was tired and was confused and didn't exactly know what was going on. Where was he? "Whereee?"
"You're at the hospital Cal." She had whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder.
He'd grabbed it and pulled it up to his mouth. He kissed the back of it and then yelled out, "Oh God!"
"What?" She'd asked quickly.
"God... stop!" He'd yelled out.
He thought he saw things that weren't really there. Hallucinations. Hallucinations of Shaughn. He threw his arms away, trying to pushing the bastard away from him, but it didn't work. he just wouldn't go away!
"Go away!" Cal yelled.
"Cal!" She yelled worriedly. She laid a hand on his forhead. He was burning up.
They weren't even hallucinations. Morphine didn't do that. It just numbed things. He seriously thought that Shaughn was there. He was dreaming. Or nightmaring.
A high fever of 104. Constant. Dangerous. Not healthy.
He'd stayed in the hospital for three weeks, until the fever finally died down. But even then he was still sick. Almost always at 100 or a little higher. If it ever made it to 103 then he would have to go back to the hospital. Although, there was nothing they could do.
He was sick. He had been tortured for Pete's sake! of course he was sick. He could barely walk.
He was on fire. He was at 104, but was so cold. So cold that he shivered uncontrollably and asked for blankets and blankets on end.
He was back in his office, after they had lunch. He'd gone to the cube for a while and talked to a man. He'd done good.
He was a little cocky. That was healthy for Cal. He had been sarcastic and spiteful. That made Gillian happy. He was becoming himself again.
Then, on his way back to his office, he'd gotten pissed at Loker for no apparent reason. Which - luckily - Loker had taken as a sign of healing and just shrugged it off.
But now - after a month of being better - he wasn't feeling to hot again.
He was feeling feverish, like he had in the hospital.
He hadn't gotten severely sick since his last visit to the hospital. About two weeks after leaving he'd still had the lingering sickness, but then it had gone away.
Gillian knocked and he grunted, allowing her to enter.
"Hey." She said with a smile that disappeared when she saw his face, "How are you feeling?"
"Like I'm sick." He said in a hoarse voice.
She walked into his bathroom and grabbed a thermometer, "Here." She pushed it into his mouth, despite his protesting.
He sat there lazily, running hit tongue over the metal end of the thermometer.
It beeped and she pulled it out, "102. Oh my gosh. Lay down." She ordered, pointing to the couch.
He obeyed and stood up. She pushed on his shoulder a little bit and he stumbled towards the welcoming couch that hadn't changed, even though life around it did.
He fell onto it and buried his face in the pillow. he was so tired. This couch felt so... familiar and right.
He remembered all the late nights that he crashed on this couch rather then going home to sleep with Zoe.
He remembered all the late nights that Gillian told him would catch up with him eventually.
He remembered all the late nights that she had stayed up with him, working on a hard case or watching videos.
He moaned slightly and rolled over, so he was looking up at the roof.
She was out of sight. He wasn't sure where she had gone, but she'd be coming back.
She returned a couple seconds later with a cold rag to meet his forhead.
He flinched a little when she laid it on his head, but then it became soothing.
.:.
A doctor was there half an hour later.
Although it didn't seem like that big of a deal, the doctor said to call him if anything spiked up like that.
So she did, and now Dr. Wahl was towering over a sick Cal.
He pulled Cal's shirt up to examine the burn on his chest and Gillian almost gasped when she saw it.
She felt bad for being in there, invading Cal's privacy in a way.
"Well... that's the problem." Dr. Wahl thought aloud.
"What's the problem?" She stared at the darkish purple 'SS' on his chest. It looked painful. She turned away and crossed her arms over her chest.
"The burn is healing." Dr. Wahl - William - stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, "There's really nothing that can be done. A burn is a painful thing to overcome... and it'll bring fevers with it." He said.
"We can't do anything?" She turned back to Will.
"Well... I can get you some burn cream that will ease the pain a little bit." He said with a shrug. "We need to flip him over, though. I need to see his back."
She nodded and assisted Will with turning Cal's moaning body over.
William pulled up Cal's shirt and ran his fingers over the rough skin on Cal's back, "Yeah."
"How long will it last?"
"A week? Maybe two?" William suggested, "Good luck. If the pain becomes too much - which it shouldn't - give me a call. And if it goes over 103."
"Yep." She said with a heavy sigh. Poor Cal.
A/N: O. M. P. (Oh my pickles) Did I really squeeze in another chapter? YUP! Thanks for reading and reviewing!