Restless Days and Restless Nights
*(*(*)*)*

Ch. 8
*(*(*)*)*

Photographs and Memories Pt 4

*(*(*)*)*

The next morning after TC had left to take his couple on their morning tour, Thomas wandered around the estate, disconsolately. He knew Higgins would go absolutely ballistic if he tried to either row or go swimming…and he wasn't in the mood to piss her or Rick off. God, he was jones-ing to get out there though. Maybe exercise of that nature was sort of his drug…he needed it the way some people needed coffee first thing in the morning. He liked coffee well enough, but he did not need it the way he needed his morning row or swim. That was really his jam. Okay, he was man enough to admit it. He was addicted to exercise in the form of a morning row/paddle or a morning swim…and an evening swim…oh, boy. Did he have a problem? Nah, swimming was logical when you lived on an island, right?

Whatever…suddenly, Magnum perked up slightly. There was one of those Mylar balloons tangled up in a tree near the main house. This was something he could handle. Surely Higgins couldn't object to him getting that 'eyesore' out of the tree, sparing either her or Kumu from the risk of climbing a ladder to get it out, right?

So, quietly, so as not to draw attention, the private investigator went and fetched a ladder, set it up securely and safely (he thought) and climbed up reaching up with his good arm to unwind the leader ribbon from the branch, retrieve the balloon and bring it down to earth. Almost there…

"Thomas Sullivan Magnum the Fourth, what in the bloody hell do you think you are doing? In the condition you are in, you should not be clamoring up ladders, to fetch down stupid Mylar balloons, nature hazard though they are. Get back down here on the ground and take a seat."

Lord, how could a woman with a British accent make him think of his own, very Hispanic mother? That made no sense, yet her cadence had done credible tribute to his Madre when she was really pissed about something or other he had done when he was very young. That whole overly long, overly pretentious sounding name was said in a manner so reminiscent of MaMa he actually looked down to verify visually it was Juliet Higgins.

"I'll be there in just a moment, Higgy." He reassured her. "I was really careful." Then he missed a step and had to grab the ladder tightly with the hand from his injured arm. Darkness roared over his eyes and ears…and he nearly blacked out. "Well, I was mostly really careful…" he finished in a slightly strangled voice. "That hurt…" He admitted, as he stepped down to the ground. He felt Rick's hands gently supporting him to a lounge chair. "Sit, Thomas before you do yourself another injury." His friend advised him.

"Let's check it out, shall we?" Higgins said to Rick.

"Oh, yes, let's…" Rick agreed as he started undoing Thomas' shirt.

Thomas muttered, "Again with the shirt…I should give up the detective gig and just go to work at Chippendale's." Rick had all he could do to keep from collapsing in laughter at the sotto voce remark. "My condition is just fine, Higgins…I am perfectly capable of going up a ladder and getting a stupid balloon down."

"Quit while you are behind, Thomas," Rick advised his friend, as he helped ease the shirt off his friend.

Suddenly an out of place female voice hit Magnum's ear. "Good lord, Magnum…that is the little injury Detective Katsumoto wanted me to get a look at? That's no little injury, man. You should be in the hospital."

"Dr. Cunha, how are you this fine morning?" Thomas replied, determined to be pleasant. Who else would the gang of 6 sic on him, bloody Steve McGarrett?

"Clearly better than you are…" The woman snapped. "This is why my patients are the dead, no talkback, no squirming and no sass." Still, her hands were gentle as she probed his shoulder. "Oh, Thomas…" She shook her head. "You need to get this properly treated, Magnum. I can feel the old fracture I was told about, but I am pretty certain there's a new one as well…" She came around in front of him and gently tugged his chin up until their eyes met. "Please, please, please…go and get this properly seen to."

Thomas closed his eyes, sighed, and shook his head. "Doc, I've been down this road before. It's not happening. I'll be…"

"Fine?" She shook her head at him sadly. "You are fine in one sense, Magnum, but this, this is not FINE." She sighed. "Okay, at least come by my office and I'll do some X-rays. I want a better look at what we are dealing with, please? Will you do that for me?"

Thomas sighed again. "As you wish…"

"I do…promise?" He smiled at her and nodded. "As soon as you can, Magnum."

"I will…but you have patients that are waiting to be taken care of."

"Ah, they are dead. They can wait a little longer." She replied. Magnum smiled at her odd quirk of humor.

"I'll drive you, buddy," Rick advised his friend.

"I said I'll go, Rick. You have work."

"Naw, I gave myself the day off, brother. I'm all yours for the day."

"Okay, Rick." Magnum gave in…didn't mean he'd be rerouted to the hospital when the good doctor got her better look, but he'd humor her and everyone else this far…and no farther, damn it. He had to draw the line somewhere.

Not too much later, Thomas lay on the table as Cunha got the x-rays, only slightly creeped out that the last person to occupy this spot had probably been dead. Was this even sanitary? He was very careful, not to talk back, not to squirm and not to sass. The woman was doing him, sort of, a favor after all. When they were finished, TM, Rick and the good doctor were looking at the X-rays up on the computer screen. Oh, boy…they had been right all along. Cunha traced the old damages with her pointer and described them as not so much healed as an abomination and then the pointer moved to what were clearly three new fractures one in the acromioclavicular joint, on the supraspinous fossa and the scapular spine. Great - now what? Nope. He was still not going to the hospital. He survived without hospital care in the camps, he could bloody well do it here.

Thomas very nicely thanked the good doctor and offered to take her out to dinner in return for her kindness, but she gently told him to seriously consider seeing an orthopod and she would consider that payment enough. TM was very quiet on the way home and when they got back to the estate he quietly told Rick thanks, but he was really tired and not feeling too well and he was going to take a nap. Rick shook his head, worried about his friend, but accepting the man's stubborn nature was part of what had enabled all of them to survive the camps. He couldn't really regret who Magnum was, even if he felt the man was hurting himself now, by being so damn stubborn.

Rick quietly went to the club, canceling the rest of his self assigned day off. TC came in at lunch to see what had been learned. To say he wasn't happy to discover that even after finding out he did indeed have new fractures, Thomas still wouldn't go to the hospital or be seen by an orthopod was an understatement, but then, Calvin suddenly got a thoughtful look on his face. "Oh, man…talk about stupid. I never considered that. Rick, do you think his not wanting to go to the hospital has anything to do with the wicked witch of the East?"

Wright looked at him like he'd lost his senses. "Huh? What does the WIZARD OF OZ have to do with Thomas not wanting to voluntarily go to the hospital for his shoulder?"

"No, Orville, think…who did Nuzo name the wicked witch of the East? Think, damn it."

The helicopter gunner thought a few moments before it hit him. "Oh, shit. THAT witch…the psychology masters' thesis gal who wanted to write her thesis on the 'sickness' of Navy Seals – how you had to be mentally ill to want to do that job – to want to become a Navy Seal? That whack job? What made you think of her?"

"Something Thomas said last night…and I quote, "Most of the time it only bothers me when a rainstorm is coming in or if I swim or row a bit too long, so I don't see why I need the damn surgery…and you know how I feel about getting locked up in some damn hospital. It's not happening." Now think on that real hard a minute."

Rick looked confused, but then thought a bit more carefully, getting it… " 'You know how I feel about getting locked up in some damn hospital…' You think it's that damn threat she left him with, that if anyone ever got a good look inside his head, they would lock him up as a danger to himself and others and throw away the key? You think that is still echoing through his head and scaring him away from getting proper care?"

TC made a face. "I could be wrong…"

Rick came right back. "I kind of doubt it, T. After just two days in the locked ward, Thomas was ready to jump off the damn roof. He'd be terrified of being permanently confined, especially after Afghanistan. But he knows we wouldn't let that happen, right? We'd bust him out. Tommy's only dangerous to bad guys and himself, not anyone else."

"You are damn straight we'd bust him out...whatever it took. That lady was a real nut job. I wish Thomas had never met her…it put him off ever seeing a counselor." TC affirmed. "Nobody is locking our boy up and throwing away the key. No way, no how."

"Hey, TC, I just had a brilliant idea, if I do say so myself…"

"And you do…" Theodore joined.

"Yea, actually, I do. He won't see a counselor, but he'll see Father Mike…"
"Oh, the gift of the Blarney…that might actually work, Rick. Mike Murphy might actually be able to get through to our boy."

"Yep, I think I'll go see the good Padre tomorrow. Sort of a Hail Mary pass attempt, eh?" The Club manager nodded.

"Well that's appropriate, Father Murphy is a Priest. If anybody should be good to catch a Hail Mary, it's him!" Calvin replied.

A/N: Okay...I really have to work on the other story for a while now. Now, thanks to screen name Diana-0f-Wales, I remember that Rick did mention being from Chi-town in this version, too. Seamonkeys down the Chicago sewer system...that's a weird place...yes, I've been down there, briefly once it was very weird.