All these little things in life they all create this haze
There's too many things to get done, and I'm running out of days

It couldn't have been a long wait, but the time it took for the nurse to arrive seemed like an eternity. Shawn must have hit the call button about fifty times before she pushed through the door. He started to sit up as she walked towards him, but she pushed him back firmly.

"Hold on… just relax. Do you need to use the restroom?"

Shawn propped himself up on his elbows. "No I don… actually, yes I do… but I need to talk to my partner, Gus, first- I need to get out…"

The nurse frowned, checking Shawn's vitals. "I'll help you to the bathroom, but I'm afraid a jailbreak is above and beyond. Besides, it's three in the morning, I have a feeling Gus won't thank you for that, partner or no."

There was a definite thread of panic coiling in the back of Shawn's throat. "Just let me…" he paused, pulling his voice out of the higher register, forcing calm,"Just let me call Gus. It's urgent… I have to talk to him…" Though he was speaking slower, there must have been something in his eyes because the nurse seemed to tense.

"Mr. Spencer, I'm going to ask you to relax just one time. Don't force me to call a doctor in here, because he'll probably recommend we strap you down."

Shawn swallowed. "Wow, any other time and I'd be all over that…"

Apparently not amused, the nurse crossed her arms, frowning deeply. "Mr. Spencer…"

"Not your scene, I totally understand. Look, here's the thing… Gus and I are really close… really, really, close." He paused, waiting for that look of understanding. After a moment, the nurse's eyes widened. 'Gotcha.' He thought, burying a smirk. "I sorta felt… you know… anxious when I woke up all by myself. I suppose I just panicked."

That disconcerted look was still in the nurse's eyes, but she placed a hand on his arm compassionately. "If you can wait just a few more hours, I promise I'll dial the phone for you myself… alright?"

Still frantic, but hiding it well, Shawn allowed the nurse to think she'd convinced him. "Okay… you're right. I had a bad dream… and I just missed him…" He looked up into her eyes, pulling his most innocent expression. "You think I could get that walk to the bathroom?"

Appearing to relax, the nurse finally smiled. "Okay. But take it slow… those pain meds are strong, but your leg will still hurt a bit."

Shawn nodded as he sat up. Sliding his feet to the floor, he didn't have to pretend to be in pain as he hobbled towards the bathroom. The nurse walked at his side, supporting his weight as he limped across the cold linoleum. Shawn felt bad, he really did. However, he really didn't have a choice either. They were only steps from the door when he suddenly twisted out from under the nurse's arm. Biting back a groan, he pushed her through the door and slammed it shut, immediately bracing his back against it. She was strong, he had to give her credit. The first hit from the other side almost dislodged him.

"Mr. Spencer, open this door now!"

Her screams were bound to draw attention, even muffled through the door. Knowing he couldn't brace the door forever with his body, Shawn scanned the room for anything… ah! Another strike jarred his leg, and he bit his lip as he felt himself sliding. She stopped for a second, likely to gather her strength. Using that moment of time, Shawn lunged for one of the chairs just a few feet away. The door was partially open when he slammed against it again, earning even louder cries of rage. Sweat ran down his face, and his leg was in flames, but Shawn managed to wrench the chair in front of the door- propping it under the handle. He eased away, watching anxiously for a second until he determined the chair would hold. Then, feeling the whole time like collapsing, he struggled to the closet where his things were kept. His shirt was hanging from the pole, but there was no sign of his jeans. With a sinking feeling, he realized they must have been cut away by the hospital staff. That sucked, he'd been told they made his ass look great. Thankfully, his wallet was still there in a box, along with a handful of change and a few crumpled singles. Next to the box sat his badly mistreated sneakers. Grabbing his clothes, wallet, and money, Shawn made his way to the door. Peering out cautiously, wincing at the shouts from the bathroom, he eyed the hallway. Nobody in sight thank God. He knew it wouldn't last. Unless his neighbors were comatose, they'd start pressing their call buttons to alert staff to the strange noises.

He only had moments.

Sliding out of the room, he hopped to a door across the hall. Squinting through the small window, the occupant inside seemed to still be asleep. Thankfully, the nurse's shrieks were a lot quieter outside the room. No doubt this would nix any plans he might have had for asking her out…

One more glance down the hall, and Shawn fumbled into the room. The snores of the room's single occupant were one of the most calming sounds Shawn could have hoped to hear. Using the wall to hold himself upright, he made his way to the closet. Inside, he found another shirt, and a box of personal items. But better yet, was a pair of pants. He made a face at the oversized brown lycra blend… but now wasn't the time to play Timothy Gunn. Quickly shedding his hospital clothes, Shawn pulled on his torn, and in some places, scorched, shirt. He paused at the pants, feeling a twist in his gut at what it was likely to feel like to pull them on. Then he thought of his father, and any possible discomfort was brushed to the side. He didn't really have a choice.

It was worse than he'd imagined.

He didn't scream, but he couldn't hold back the small cries that made it past his teeth. It took almost ten minutes of methodical struggling to finally pull the pants up to his waist. When he finished, he leaned heavily against the wall, shaking with pain and fatigue. The drugs, though dulling, were definitely working against him right now. Blinking away sweat, he glanced at the rolling table where he'd set his shoes. There was no way he'd be able to get those on… not without passing out. Besides, he was pushing his luck as it was. Hopefully he could get out without the staff realizing he was barefoot.

Taking a few deep breaths, Shawn squeezed shut his eyes and pushed away from the wall. Oh… it hurt. The ten steps back to the door seemed like ten miles. Ten miles of nauseating heat that radiated down past his knee, and up through his groin. When he finally reached the door, he grabbed for the knob and held it tightly. He was starting to worry he might not succeed after all…

'Shawn, you never finish a damn thing…'

Oh perfect, now his memories were lecturing him too.

Biting his lip, Shawn lifted his head to scan the hallway again. About three yards away, a nurse walked down the hall and turned a corner. Waiting until he was sure she was gone, Shawn finally eased out of the room. He listened intently for a moment, but there was no sound. Apparently his nurse had either lost her voice or given up. Promising himself that he'd buy her two dozen roses and a pair of magnetic kissing bears once he resolved his current crisis, Shawn limped and stumbled for the elevators at the other end of the hallway.

0o0o0o0o0

The great escape from the hospital was actually rather anti-climactic. There was only a single nurse on duty at the station downstairs, and she was lost in the music coming from her I-Pod. Creeping past her desk, Shawn's only other obstacle was the pair of guards near the front doors. That actually took some finesse. Adopting an agitated expression, Shawn stumbled up to the pair. "Hey, hey guys!" The two guards were startled at being addressed out of the blue. One of them actually dropped his hand to the butt of his gun.

"Woah, ease up there Gregory Peck…" The guard relaxed, dropping his hand as he looked Shawn up and down.

"Is there something we can…"

"Yeah," interrupted Shawn, gesturing behind himself. "Some idiot is screaming next door to my room, and I can't find anyone to check it out! I've been hitting my call button for like, fifteen minutes!"

The guards shared a look, then started towards the nurse's station. "Wait here, we'll have one of the staff check it out. What room did you say you were from?"

"Two thirty four."

The moment the two guards turned away, Shawn pushed through the doors. Moving as fast as he was able, he cut around a parked ambulance and headed for the bank of trees lining the parking lot. He'd barely made it around the first trunk when he heard a shout. Bracing himself against the tree, he leaned to the side, looking back the way he'd come. One of the guards was looking back and forth in front of the hospital entrance. After a moment, he held his radio up to his face and walked back inside. Breathing with relief, Shawn closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He rested for only a moment. Then, steeling himself, he dropped his chin. Pushing away from the tree, cursing the uneven ground, he made for the bank of payphones, dimly lit by the overhead sodiums, at the other end of the parking lot.

0o0o0o0

Gus was not happy to be woken up at three forty-two in the morning, Shawn could tell.

"Dude, if I had more cash on me, I'd have called a cab. As it is, they don't accept video rental cards as payment."

Gus clenched the wheel tighter.

"Gus, I'm sorry, I just didn't have another choice."

Apparently 'sorry' had an effect, because Gus's shoulders dropped and his face softened. "No, forget it." Making a sharp right, Gus headed back to his apartment. As he drove, Shawn interrogated him on what he'd told Vick. Pretty much everything it turned out. After they'd been rescued by the Captain, Shawn had been taken immediately to the hospital. The surgery had taken eight hours, during which they'd removed a fourteen inch chunk of wood from his left thigh. They'd actually had to cut the wound larger to remove the foreign body. There was concern that infection could develop. Shawn winced when Gus reached that particular part of the story. By the look on his friend's face, it was affecting him even worse. Shawn decided to keep to himself what he'd thought he'd heard earlier that night. Whether the wound was infected or not was a moot point right now. He'd deal with it after his father was safe and sound and ridiculing Shawn for taking so long. Gus was glancing at him, and Shawn realized he'd stopped speaking a few moments ago.

"How you feeling? You look pale."

Shawn shrugged. "I'm great! Though I do feel a little like Bo Derek in 'Orca'." He probably would have been more convincing if his voice hadn't cracked at the end of his sentence. Gus glanced at him again, then gasped as his eyes went to Shawn's leg.

"Dude, you're bleeding!"

Shawn looked down, and saw a patch of blood the size of quarter soaking through the top of his pants. "Shit." He muttered darkly. He should have known all his activity would aggravate the injury. He probably tore out half his stitches with all his lunging around.

"It's more likely from the drainage tube."

Shawn frowned at Gus's words, replayed the last few seconds in his head, and realized he'd spoken out loud. Looking back at his friend, he saw that Gus had that familiar sick look again. Actually, Shawn couldn't blame him. In all honesty, the realization that he had a tube sticking out of his leg under all the bandages was just… gross.

They were pulling up to Gus's apartment, and Shawn grabbed for the door handle. "I call bathroom!"

Of course, being a true friend through and through, Gus promptly left him at the car and dashed for his front door. Shawn couldn't blame him though, he'd have done the same thing.

0o0o0o0

The plate of braised duck and sautéed mushrooms had congealed hours ago on the fine china plate. The goblet of wine was untouched. The water glass, on the other hand, had been drained to the last drop. The man sent to collect the dinner service hardly glanced at the uneaten meal. Instead, he held his gaze on the man by the bed. When the man had first arrived, he'd sworn himself hoarse at anyone within earshot. Before he'd been forced into this room, he'd even managed to get in a lucky punch, breaking the nose of one of his captors. Of course, even then, the orders were to subdue him with minimal damage. However, if the stubborn bastard didn't want to eat, that was his problem. They only had to put up with him for one more day anyhow. Soon, time would be up, and they would escort their guest to an unpopulated area near the water. They each were allowed a turn with the instrument of their choice.

The guard with the broken nose had been promised the first strike.