A/N: Sorry about the longer wait. 14-hour work days just aren't conducive to fanfic-writing. Especially if you've got to do other junk after you get home. Oh well, I like being busy, so I really can't complain too much.
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
"David… dead?" the injured agent muttered, eyes already closed as he plunged back into unconsciousness.
Don looked up at Megan in alarm as soon as the mumbled words registered in his brain. Where would Colby have gotten that from? From experience, Don knew about the effects of narcotics, and how it usually made you think some pretty weird things. But this time, the senior agent was seriously concerned.
Megan started to recommend that they call David, but cut herself short when she saw Don's cell phone in his hand, already punching in the speed-dial. "If the hospital staff have a problem with it, they can go to hell," he muttered to Megan, referring to the 'no cell phone' rule.
Although it was almost three in the morning, David was still wide awake, still staring at his ceiling. He knew he needed to sleep, he was just afraid to do it. His phone, sitting on a table just two feet from his bed, started to ring. Even though he was already awake, the sudden noise startled David.
Slowly, he twisted his head so he was looking at his phone. He knew it was probably Don calling with an update about Colby, but he couldn't muster the motivation or energy to reach out and pick up the phone. It rang for about twenty seconds before directing the call to voice mail. David returned his gaze to the ceiling.
"Damn it!" Don cursed loudly. Megan, who had been studying Colby as he slept, sharply looked up at her boss. "Pick up the phone, David," Don instructed as he redialed.
When David still didn't answer, Don left a voice mail message before hanging up and trying again.
David ignored the second, third, and fourth calls. Silence ensued for nearly a minute after the fourth call. Good, David thought. As bad as he felt about not being at the hospital with Colby, he felt guiltier that it had been his fault that Colby was there in the first place. As the more senior of the two, David should have been able to protect Colby. He couldn't protect him then, and there was nothing he could do for him now. He had failed.
Despair had taken hold of the young agent.
His phone started ringing again. David regarded his phone with annoyance. He didn't want sleep, but he at least wanted peace.
On the seventh call, David finally reached over and picked up the phone, answering it just as Don was about to give up. He pressed the button to accept the call and put the phone to his ear, but remained silent.
"David?" he heard his supervisor's concerned voice, but didn't respond immediately.
"David? You there?"
Finally, David spoke with a sigh. "Yeah. I'm here."
Don almost went off on his subordinate for not answering the phone any of the previous times, but stopped himself when he heard the tone in David's voice. He couldn't quite identify it precisely, but he had an idea of how to proceed. Megan had returned her attention to Don when it was apparent that David had actually picked up. Don made a hand gesture to her, and she nodded while he switched over to speakerphone mode.
"Did I wake you up?" he asked cautiously, motioning for Megan to listen but stay silent.
David shook his head slowly, then realized Don couldn't see him. "No."
"Alright. I hate to ask this of you, but I need you to come back to the hospital." Don waited for a response, but when he hadn't gotten one for a couple seconds, he continued his explanation. "Colby's asleep right now, but he really needs to see you when he wakes up again." Still no reaction from David's end. Don pressed on. "We've got your car here, and I know you're in no condition to drive. Megan will swing by and pick you up, okay? She'll be there in about twenty minutes, so get dressed and be ready when she gets there." David still hadn't said a word.
Don pressed a little harder, needing some sort of confirmation that David understood what was happening. "You got that?"
David grunted softly. "Yeah. I got it." Assuming that the conversation was over, David snapped the phone shut.
Don heard the line go dead before he closed his phone. "It takes twenty minutes to get from here to David's, but I need to hear your opinion before you go. You can blaze the way with lights and sirens if you need to, though traffic shouldn't be too bad at this time of day," Don quickly explained to Megan. She nodded in agreement.
Megan had been critically listening to the phone conversation, trying to assess the situation. She knew that Don wanted her conclusions, but she hadn't really concluded anything quite yet. Instead, she started thinking aloud, putting it all together. "He said you didn't wake him up. I doubt if he's slept at all since he got home, though maybe not for lack of trying. He sounds like he's going through the same symptoms as PTSD, although it is probably too early for the actual disorder to manifest itself. You said earlier that he sounded numb on the phone, and that he seemed desperate or anxious when you first got here. He was trying to blame himself for what happened. It sounds like he already believes that it is his fault, and being alone for the past several hours with his thoughts has not been good for him. Even if we didn't need him here to prove to Colby that he is alive, it is probably best that we pull him out of his isolation. Be careful about everything you say or do while you're around David. He may misinterpret what you say to think that you are also blaming him, thereby reinforcing his own belief."
While she was giving her brief analysis, Megan had gathered all of her belongings and readied herself to leave the hospital. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she concluded as she headed toward the door. Don nodded, then retook his seat in silent vigil over the youngest member of his team.
Colby found himself alone in his hospital room. He felt a little light-headed, but other than that, he really couldn't complain. Unsure of what he should be doing, since no-one else was around, Colby passed the time by listening to the steady beeping of the heart monitor. It really was an annoying noise. Someone should make a machine that wasn't quite as obnoxious. He idly wondered what would happen if he ripped off the little pulse-oximeter that was clipped to his left index finger. It would probably stop the beeping, he decided, but maybe the machine wouldn't understand that he had just taken it off, and it would assume he was going into cardiac arrest. That wouldn't be good. The beeping might be replaced with some sort of alarm noise, and nurses would come running. That would almost definitely be more annoying than listening to a digital noise representing his heartbeat.
Bored again, Colby studied his room. A couple chairs, some medical machinery, some jars of sterile stuff – pretty much a standard hospital room. But there was one thing that was glaringly absent. No television. Where was the television? What kind of a hospital was this – not providing a TV in a patient's room? He would have to speak to someone about that. What did they expect him to do all day when he didn't have visitors?
Just outside his open door, Colby could hear footsteps. Ah, just in time, he thought, assuming that the footsteps belonged to someone on the hospital staff. He would have to let them know just what he thought about the TV situation. When the mysterious person finally entered the room to stand at the foot of Colby's bed, he was shocked.
"Dwayne Carter? How did you get here? I thought you'd been put away."
The former agent-turned-traitor just shrugged in response. "I thought you'd be happy to see me, Granger. I hear you got yourself in a tight spot."
Colby just stared at the man who was once like a brother to him. The man who had saved his life. "I just can't… I mean, how… why…" the young agent stumbled over his words, stopping and starting over each time, unsure of what he was trying to say. "What are you doing here?" he finally managed to spit out.
Dwayne smiled at the bed-ridden man. "Well, I heard you were laid-up in here, and I knew that last time you got yourself into any serious trouble, I was there to pull you out. I thought maybe you needed me again."
Colby blinked. What the hell was going on? What the hell had happened? He knew he was in the hospital, but he couldn't remember why. Even Dwayne seemed to know more about what had happened than Colby.
"I hear your boss, Eppes, is pretty mad at you," Dwayne stated. Colby threw him a questioning look. Why would Don be mad? "You cost him a good agent. Let your own partner get killed. I'd probably be mad if I was in his shoes, too."
Reality came crashing over Colby. David was dead? It was his fault? He could remember that Don and Megan hadn't wanted to tell him something, and now he knew why. They had to be upset.
"I heard Eppes say that he wished the two of you would have switched places, and that you would be dead, but your partner would by lying here in this bed, alive. I don't know that I would go that far, but your boss seemed really angry about it."
Colby swallowed. Don wouldn't have said those things. Would he? "I'm sorry," he croaked. "I didn't mean to get him killed. I don't know what happened."
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Granger," Dwayne's voice had gotten harder. "You're the reason he's dead. You ended his life, just like you destroyed mine. I offered to let you come with me; I was willing to let you in on the deal. If you would've just come with me, I would still have a life. And your partner would still be alive. Sorry just doesn't cut it."
Colby had squeezed his eyes shut against the accusations Dwayne was laying on him. He re-opened them to see Dwayne holding a pistol. "Dwayne, don't! Please!" he begged.
"I seem to recall asking you the same thing. And you handed me over to the wolves." A single shot rang out, and Colby screamed in pain as the bullet slammed into his abdomen.
A/N: Sorry for leaving you with a cliffhanger. Really. I hate reading cliffies, but I wanted to get something posted tonight. I am about to start the next chapter, so it should be up in the next day or two.
