Fire in the Mind

By Adalanta

Disclaimer: The characters in this story, with the exception of Dr. Miller, belong to NBC and the creators of Third Watch. I really, really appreciate all of the encouraging reviews you all have written about Chapter One. It was my first TW story, and I was kind of nervous. I'll try to post a chapter every week or so - it just depends on my work schedule. Anyway, hope you all like this chapter as well. Please, feel free to leave me a review and let me know how I'm doing. Or you can email me at adalanta14@yahoo.com!

Chapter Two

White. Everything was white.

The whiteness surrounded him when he finally gained enough strength to raise his heavy eyelids and open his eyes. I hate white, he mumbled to himself, letting his eyes close automatically.

"No, Mr. Doherty," a man's voice spoke close by. "You need to keep your eyes open for a little while longer."

He reluctantly obeyed, only opening his eyes halfway. It was all he could do to manage even that. I jus' wanna go back to sleep. Why…why do you need me awake?

Through his slitted eyes, he could see a vague blur beside him move closer. Before he knew it, his eyes were forced open, and a liquid of some kind was put in them, causing them to close once more. His body tensed as the pain reached his hazy mind. He moaned involuntarily, but was only able to gag weakly on the thing in his throat. The combination of shock and pain dispelled some of the fog from his mind, and he remembered vaguely what happened before. It's just a tube, he told himself, trying to calm down. You're not choking.

As he forced his rigid body to relax, he felt someone holding his right hand, squeezing it gently. The flaring pain faded into a dull ache. He slowly opened his eyes to see who it was. This time, his vision was a little better. He still couldn't see as clearly as normal, but it was much better than last time. What was in those eye drops? he wondered. He blinked a couple more times. Things came into focus.

A man was standing by the left side of his bed, studying him, but his serious expression eased a little when he saw Jimmy open his eyes.

"Mr. Doherty, I'm Doctor Miller. I'm going to take a quick look at your eyes and see if those drops helped any, okay?"

Before his muddled mind could comprehend what the man had just told him, he felt hands touching his face. Each eye was systematically pried open and a bright light was shown into them. The light hurt his eyes and made his head throb harder. As he blinked away the resulting tears, he saw the doctor look over to the other side of the bed, a slight frown on his face, and shake his head. The man quickly turned his attention back towards Jimmy.

"All right. Now, I want you to follow my finger."

He tried to obey the simple instructions, but it was too difficult. The motion of the man's hand made him dizzy, and he was forced to shut his eyes to try to control his nausea. Man, what's wrong? he asked himself. I feel like I'm gonna puke.

"Doctor, what's wrong?" a woman's voice off to his right, full of concern, echoed his own thought. Kim. That's Kim. He felt vaguely proud of himself at the realization. Right now it was an accomplishment to simply understand what was being said.

"I'm not quite sure," Dr. Miller replied. "He's having a lot of difficulty focusing his eyes. His pupils are still slightly dilated, which is to be expected from the amount of pain medication he's receiving, but he shouldn't be having trouble with such simple movement." The man paused. "It could be that the ash and smoke did more damage to his eyes than we first thought. If that's true, then we'll have to continue with the drops, even though they appear to hurt him. If it's not the smoke, then it's his concussion. I'm sorry to say that we can't do anything for him except wait for it to heal. Time is the only solution in that case."

Smoke? Concussion? What happened to me? How did I get here?

"Ms. Zambrano – "

"Kim, please, doctor." Her voice was insistent.

"Fine. Kim, I think for now we'll continue with the drops. If the smoke is the problem, then his eyes should clear up in a day or so. And if it's a concussion, the drops won't do any damage."

Jimmy heard her sigh softly. "I just wish there was more that we could do. I mean, he's been through so much already…"

"I feel the same way. But he's a fighter. He'd have to be to have lasted this long. Most other men would have given up, but somehow…I don't know. I never used to believe in miracles, but after this case? I think I might change my mind."

"You don't know Jimmy, Dr. Miller. He's one of the most stubborn, most obstinate men I've ever met. When we were married, I hated that, but now, I've never been so glad for those traits. I don't know what I would do - what Joey would do - if…if he'd…" She broke down, unable to go any farther.

"Kim, don't you think it's about time you take a break and go home? You've been here for three days straight. You need to get a decent night's sleep, and besides, I'm sure your son needs you. He's probably upset - "

"Joey understands what's going on, that his dad's job is dangerous. He's staying with my parents for now. And I've told you before, I'm not leaving Jimmy. He's going to need me when he wakes up. I won't leave him now."

"All right. I can't force you to go, but try to get some more sleep, okay? I don't want to have another patient on my hands. And something tells me that you're just as stubborn as your ex-husband."

"I'll try."

"Good. I've got to check on another patient and make some calls. When he wakes up, call the nurse and have her get me. I'll be back by in a few hours to check on him again."

Jimmy heard a door open and shut, but he was so tired that he didn't even realize that he wasn't alone until he felt a small hand take his own. Kim didn't say a word. She probably thinks I'm already asleep, he thought drowsily. She'd be mad…if she knew…I…wasn't… Before he could even finish the thought, he slipped back into darkness.

************************

Consciousness came upon him slowly, easing him up out of the comfortable embrace of sleep, pulling him inch by inch closer to the waking world. He did not fight it, nor did he help it. He didn't want to face reality.

Reality was a place where he was poked and prodded and given medicines that made his eyes burn. He hazily remembered being jerked out of sleep several times when someone had pried his eyelids apart and put in something that had burned badly, like pouring salt in an open wound. Each time, the pain drove him back towards the darkness, where he was free. It had become a place of sanctuary.

Still, now that his body had decided it was time to wake up, he couldn't stop it. Once full awareness had returned, he was reluctant to open his eyes and betray himself to other people. So, he just lay in his bed, listening to the sounds of the world he now, however mysteriously, lived in.

The steady, rhythmic beeping of the machine to the left of his head was reassuring. That must be the heart monitor, he mused. Well, at least my heart seems to be okay. He heard the regular whooshing of the ventilator pushing air in and out of his lungs. He hated being on a ventilator. For that matter, he hated being in the hospital, period. He pushed that frustrating thought aside. After all, there was nothing he could do about it right now anyway. It's not like I could just slip away unnoticed, he thought wryly. Above the duet of the machines, he detected another faint sound. It took a few moments of concentration to figure out what it was, but he finally succeeded. It was the soft steady breathing of someone deeply asleep. And it seemed familiar.

He cautiously opened his eyes.

At first, things were blurry like they had been before. Everything was still white, too. But this time, his eyes slowly cleared, the hazy film dissolving until his vision became normal. If he could have, he would have laughed. No wonder everything is white, he snickered in his mind. I'm looking at the ceiling!

He glanced slowly about the room, taking his time and making sure his eyes were completely healed. He vaguely remembered waking up before and nearly vomiting when he'd tried to move his eyes. Or was that a dream? He wasn't really sure of anything.

The room was lit only by a pair of blue lamps, one to the right of his head and the other on the opposite corner at the far end of the room. The low light was much easier on his eyes, which had become used to darkness. Thank goodness the overhead light isn't on. That would really hurt. His gaze finally landed on a figure curled up in a chair about three feet from his bed. It was Kim.

His ex-wife was sleeping in what looked to be an awkward, if not painful, position. She was twisted into a ball, her feet tucked beneath her, her head resting against bent knees and leaning on the back of the chair.

Jimmy stared at her, remembering another time when she had slept that way. The memory hovered in the back of his mind for a minute before he could extract it fully. It was the exact same position she had slept in when their son Joey had been rushed to the hospital. He had only been two at the time and had developed an extremely high fever. He and Kim had stayed by his side, nervously waiting, terrified that their little boy might die. He had finally convinced her to sleep, but she had refused to leave the room; instead, she had curled up in a chair by Joey's side just the same as she was now.

She must be pretty concerned about me to sleep like that. She only does it when she's really upset or worried about someone. He felt the stirring of a nameless, shapeless fear as it began to form in the pit of his stomach. He ruthlessly shoved the uneasiness away, but was unable to completely banish it.

Suddenly, he heard the door open and close and the sound of footsteps as someone approached his bed. He was too weak to turn his head. Besides, when he moved his head much, the tube rubbed the sides of his throat, making him want to cough. And he knew that was a very bad (and painful) idea.

A man appeared beside Kim: young, medium height and build, with sandy-brown hair and goatee. He had on a white physician's coat, so Jimmy assumed he was one of the doctors. He watched, motionless, as the doctor looked down at her and shook his head, his expression one of sadness but also respect. He reached over towards the end of Jimmy's bed. Jimmy couldn't see what he did, but a second later his hand reappeared with a blue blanket, which he proceeded to drape loosely over Kim.

Finally, the young man turned to check on Jimmy. He stopped abruptly when he saw that his eyes were open and looking right at him. The man looked stunned but quickly recovered and smiled warmly.

"Welcome back, Mr. Doherty. I'm Doctor Miller."

Jimmy looked at him, and then shifted his eyes towards Kim, hoping the doctor would understand what he meant without speaking.

Dr. Miller chuckled quietly. "Yes, I probably should wake her up, but this is the first time I've actually seen her asleep since you were brought here. Still, if I didn't, she'd undoubtedly find out and then I'd be in all kinds of trouble." He stepped over to her and lightly touched her shoulder. "Ms. Zambrano - Kim - wake up."

Kim sat up, alarmed, still half asleep. "W-what's going on? Is something wrong with Jimmy?" Her voice shook with fatigue.

The man smiled again and hastened to reassure her. "No, no. Jimmy's just fine. In fact, I think he wants to say 'Hi' to you…in a manner of speaking."

Jimmy weakly raised his right hand towards her, though the small movement left him drained of energy. He was tired and weak, but he felt a little better when she took his hand. He closed his eyes and just concentrated on the feel of her hand in his.

"Jimmy? Are you okay?" he heard her ask, and, even though his exhausted body longed more than anything to sleep, he forced his eyes open once more. I…just woke up. I'm not…not going to sleep yet. I n-need to find out what happened…how I got here. He stared into her shining eyes, trying to draw the strength he needed to stay awake a while longer. He steeled himself as the doctor began to speak.