A/N: Elaine, if you're reading this I fully expect coconut bludgeoning and photo proof. Because that line needs to be justified.
:)
XLVIII) The Morning After
It took a while for it all to sink in for her.
"What does this mean?" she asked in a whisper after the set down the cell phone. Shirking back from it as soon as she did, as if it was contaminated.
"Means you were drugged. Dunno with what or when, but I'd guess the wine at the restaurant. You were fine going in there and then out of it in just over thirty minutes...my guess would be that is was a mix. Rohypnol and GHB. Along with something else. A knock out sedative. No idea what exactly."
"Drugged...?" She eyed him. Stunned and speechless. "And what...what are we going to do about the rest of it?"
Cal lowered his shoulders. The exhaustion was starting to seep into his bones now and he could barely think clearly. He desperately needed a couple of hours of sleep. "I don't know yet. But I'm not gonna do anything that'll risk your life."
"If we tell them he's a liar when he's not...the FBI won't protect him. We'll be signing his death warrant."
Cal nodded. It was true they would. But if it was a choice between an ex-con and his best friend, there was no question in his mind as to what needed to be done. "I don't know yet what I'll do...but we'll find a way out of this."
He thought that she turned a couple of notches paler with the news and it made him worry all over again. Truth was she looked terrible. Pale and jittery as she curled herself up in the sofa. She managed to eat half a piece of toast and drink some water without throwing it up, but he wasn't sure how long that would last. Had a feeling she wasn't quite done yet.
He inched over to her, concerned by the way she bit her lip to ward off some sort of pain. At the way she wrapped her arms around herself. "You okay, luv?"
"Yeah..." But she winced as she said it.
"You know I spot liars for a living, yeah?"
"Headache is pretty bad. So are the cramps."
Cal put an arm around her, holding her close. She groaned at the movement. One of her hands rested on her stomach and he gently moved his own hand on top of hers. Steadying her with the added pressure. Seeing her like this made him want to strangle the culprit with his bare hands.
Cal knew she was tough. Had seen her work through a concussion and a car crash not even flinch through cuts and bruises and scrapes.
If Foster was wincing and whimpering, it was bad. And it was probably because the bastards who did this hadn't thought to dose the drug for her size. Had given her something that would knock out a two hundred pound man. Never mind she'd combined it with two glasses of wine and a lack of food. It was the worst possible combination.
Cal shuddered when he took a moment to wonder how close to overdosing she might have come. Glad that he'd never know because he was sure it was dangerously close.
"Anything I can do?" he asked her.
She leaned her head against him and grabbed his free hand, needing something to squeeze. "No."
He kissed the top of her head. "Take a deep breath. Try and relax. It'll pass."
"Cal?"
"What is it?"
"Thanks."
"For what?"
"Everything."
He held her a little tighter. It hit him then too. That he could've lost her last night and the thought sent chills down his spine. Because he couldn't imagine his life without her in it anymore. Gillian Foster had become his best friend and he'd long ago started taking it for granted that she always would be. For as long as he lived.
Cal swallowed and let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in. "Anytime."
It took a while but eventually her body relaxed against his and he felt her breathing steady as she fell back asleep. It meant he could relax too and Cal drifted off.
They couldn't have been sleeping for more than an hour when he felt her stirring next to him, trying to lift his arm off of her.
"Hey..." he yawned. "You okay?"
"No..." Gillian shook her head. "Feel sick again."
Cal helped her up, noticing that she radiated warmth again too.
He held up the ice bucket for her.
"No," she protested. "Bathroom." She pushed him away when he helped her walk there. "Let me go alone this time...please."
Not a chance. You can barely stand up by yourself.
"Sorry, luv. Not in your state." He was too worried about her to give a damn about her embarrassment. He pushed a strand of moist hair from her face and gave her a reassuring look. "Trust me, I've got a kid. I've seen it all."
"I don't care...not this time."
She pushed him away and made a clumsy run for it, slamming the bathroom door shut behind her.
Oh blimey...for Christ's sake, Gill, is that necessary? Is this what it's like dealing with me?
Truth was he'd seen every unappealing human bodily function in full detail long before he had a kid. Thanks to his father. Seeing Gillian sick wouldn't even come close to some of the things his father did when he was drunk out of his mind.
He banged on the door, kicked it once too, but she still wouldn't open it. It was a flimsy door. He could've kicked it down, but that was a little drastic. Even for him.
Although when she still didn't come out thirty minutes later it started to sound like a feasible option.
"If you don't open this door now, I'm gonna break it down and I swear you're gonna pay the bill for it..."
It swung open a little and he saw her sitting on the rim of the bathtub, completely spent.
"Bet that would be a big bill."
Cal kneeled down next to her. "You alright, luv?"
She looked like she wanted to cry. "No."
"Come on," he held out his hand to her and when she didn't respond to his gesture, he draped his arms around her instead. Lifting her up and carrying her back to his bed instead. The fact that she didn't protest scared him more than anything else.
What the hell am I gonna do?
Seeing her like this threw him for a loop. Foster was the one who held things together. Took care of the both of them. Not him. He wasn't any good at this.
Cal took a deep breath. Told himself to calm down and think. That this was normal if she really did come close to overdosing. That he needed to keep her hydrated now. Force her to drink as much as she could. Give her something to lower her temperature and ease her discomfort.
After covering her with the blanket, Cal picked up the phone and called the concierge. "I need a sports drink from the gift shop, something with carbs and electrolytes, whatever you can find. Something sweet. Two bottles. "
He jumped into the shower after the items were delivered to his room, needing to get out of his sweaty clothes.
When he was done he changed into a t-shirt and jeans and then went back to check on Foster, who was half asleep, half awake, curled into the fetal position in his king-size bed.
His mobile phone rang and he grabbed it to answer the call.
"Yeah?"
"Hi, Cal. It's Alec. Is Gill with you? She's not picking up her cell. I've been trying to reach her since last night."
Alec. He'd forgotten all about Alec.
Cal turned to Gillian with a frown. Her eyes were closed shut tightly but she wasn't asleep.
"She got sick last night. Stomach bug or something. I've been meaning to call you and let you know."
"Is...she okay?"
"Think so...but she's finally getting some sleep now. Don't have the heart to wake her."
"Okay...will you...give her my best? Tell her to call me when she's up to it?"
"Yeah...will do."
Cal ran his tongue over his lips. Was she going to be okay? Didn't her husband have a right to know what happened?
Cal put down his phone. He wasn't up for dealing with Alec Foster right now. Never was really. He had enough on his hands as it was.
He made her sit up, drink some of the Gatorade from a glass, after he crushed two aspirin into it.
Gillian made a face when she drank it. "What's in it?"
"Nothing."
She pushed the glass away. "You're lying...can tell too you know."
"Gill?"
"What?"
"Drink it."
"Cal..."
"Drink."
It was an unfair battle because she had no fight in her. Cal couldn't help a chuckle when she finished it without another word.
Better yet, it seemed to work because she fell back asleep not long afterwards.
Cal checked his watch, astounded that it wasn't even nine in the morning yet. He felt like he'd lived three days in the span of one night. He debated calling the FBI to say he wouldn't make it today, but he only had to be there at two in the afternoon and he was itching to get to the field office. He wasn't going to find out who was helping the mob from his hotel room.
Setting the alarm to go off three hours from now, Cal figured he could do it with time to spare.
He fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes and when his alarm jarred him back awake he saw Foster lying sideways next to him, blue eyes wide open and staring at him.
"Hey..."
"Hey."
"How you feeling?"
"Better."
Cal pressed the back of his palm against her cheek. It felt normal, not hot. He noticed that one of the Gatorade bottles was empty.
He smirked. "Knew if I got something with loads of sugar in it, you'd keep it down."
"You know me too well."
Thank god.
He needed her to get better for a myriad of reasons, not the least of which was that he was going to need her to figure this out.
"You gonna be okay if I leave for a bit?" he asked her, stretching as he got up.
Gillian nodded. "Yeah."
"Stay here. Put out the "do not disturb" sign, don't open the door and don't answer your phone if you don't know the number."
"I want to go back to my room, take a shower, change my clothes..."
Cal frowned, not entirely convinced she was up for that. "Alright, let me change and get ready first then I'll take you there."
She sank back into the pillow. "Okay..."
Cal did as promised, making sure she locked the door with the bolt lock as well as the latch. "Take it easy...watch TV and try and eat something," he told her before leaving.
It still didn't make him entirely comfortable to leave her alone, but he figured the hotel room was probably the safest place for her right now. That whatever these thugs had wanted to accomplish had already been done.
Part of him hoped that Franco really was lying. Because if push came to shove, Cal would do as they asked. He'd tell the FBI that Franco was lying.
Because the alternative wasn't an option.
But he wasn't ready to throw in the towel yet. And that meant he needed to figure out who was helping the mob.
