Part Ten
I'm about halfway down the hall when the alarms stop. The nurses head back to their station and the doctor from before speaks briefly with Hannibal.
Not quite within earshot all I can make out are the words 'close' and 'keep careful watch'. I'd rather not know all the details. They'll just make me more scared than I already am.
Waiting until the doctor is gone, I finish my trek to the colonel.
"Face flat-lined, but they were able to resuscitate. The doctor says…" he begins, but I cut him off.
"I don't want to know. It doesn't matter what the doctor says. What do they know, really? They said I was crazy, but look at me now. I'm no crazier than a bed bug."
I attempt a smile, but I don't think I am very successful. "I gotta see him, Hannibal. Can I go in?"
He nods slowly. "It might do him some good to know you are here, Captain."
He claps me on the shoulder, gives it a squeeze and slowly heads back to where I left BA and Frankie.
Pausing outside the door, I attempt to take a couple of deep breaths. My chest feels constricted and I place a hand against it. I feel my heart hammering and become aware of my blood pounding in my ears.
My eyes are burning. I squeeze them shut as my face contorts. Pressing my left hand against my forehead, eyes, and nose, I attempt to hide my lapse of control.
Control? Who am I kidding? I haven't been in control all night. Barely going through the motions is more like it.
Something between a gasp and a faint wail escapes my lips. Like jumping into ice-cold water, I blindly open the door to the ICU and step in.
After the bright lights from the hallway, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in the room. Even when I can see clearly, I'm afraid to look. Instead I stare down at my scuffed, black dress shoes, and become aware of how uncomfortable they are.
My nose begins to run and absentmindedly I swipe my sleeve across it. Halfway through the motion I pause.
Not my sleeve. Face's sleeve. Man, he's going to kill me.
Sniffing, I lower my arm and finally look.
I don't know what I was expecting, but I certainly didn't think I wouldn't recognize him at first.
The circles around his eyes are so dark it looks like somebody clocked him with a right and a left, and his blond hair lies in damp, dark clumps across his forehead. The respirator hisses in counterpoint with the faint beeps from the heart monitor.
But, if we weren't in this room, surrounded by all this equipment I would have thought I had gone back in time. As bad as he looks, he actually looks younger at the same time.
I stare for a moment, and then smile. Although I have no idea what I am going to say, I know what he would.
"I know exactly what you would say to me at this moment," I begin. "'This is cliché. Not to mention poor timing.' You of all people should know I was never good about picking the right time. Spontaneity is the spice of life, Faceman. You know that."
I move closer, ignoring the tubes and wires giving him blood, oxygen, medicine, and all the things he needs to fight and live. Pulling a chair close to the bed, I sit down.
"I have to tell you that I am surprised at you. This is the oldest trick in the book. Hannibal would tell you that you are losing your touch to have to resort to this. So, you see, you really have no business telling me I'm being cliché."
Reaching over, I take his hand. It's cold and clammy.
"Aw, Face. What am I doing? Can you even hear me?"
Absent-mindedly I rub his hand between mine. Maybe I'm trying to convey my warmth to him. More likely I'm reassuring myself that he's still here.
"Remember when you were wondering what your life would have been like if you had been adopted? I have no way of answering that, but I can tell you my life would not have been the same. Face, I'd still be in the VA if it weren't for you. Maybe this is pretty selfish of me, but I don't know what I would do without you. Please, please don't leave me. I need you."
It's too much. I can't take it any longer. The tears I've been holding back all night leak out and I rest my head on top his hand.
"I know I could make you happy. I know I could. I've messed up, I know. Wasted a lot of time being crazy, figuring it all out. But, you and I, we're good together. Maybe you're gonna punch the living daylights out of me if I tell you this later, when you're awake and lucid. Because there will be a later, Face. I know you're going to be okay. Do you hear me? You're going to be okay."