Fire in the Mind

By Adalanta

Disclaimer: All characters in this story, with the exception of Dr. Miller, are owned by the producers of Third Watch, NBC, and probably some other people though I don't know exactly who. I'd hoped to have this done earlier but that obviously didn't happen. Anyway, here's the next part. Please, take a second to leave a review and let me know how this is going.

Author's Note: I have no medical background at all. I'm just making it up as I go along. Hope this doesn't upset any doctors or nurses out there.

Chapter Three

"Well, Mr. Doherty, you're a lucky man."

As the young man spoke, Jimmy Doherty shifted his eyes away from Kim to look at him. He felt Kim's warm hand in his, a comforting familiar presence.

"I doubt that you remember, but we met a couple of days ago. I'm Jonathan Miller, your doctor. You've been here, at Mercy Hospital, for almost five days."

Five days? his mind repeated numbly. No wonder Kim looks tired. He couldn't believe that he had been in the hospital for that long.

"You are very lucky to be alive. Not many men could have survived the injuries you sustained from that fall. It was touch and go for a while, but you're over the worst now."

Jimmy looked back at Kim, trying to ask her questions with his eyes, the only way he had to communicate with that wretched tube stuck down his throat. Fall? What fall? I don't remember falling, Kim. What happened to me? Why can't I remember?

Kim must have seen the confusion in his eyes and interrupted Miller as he started to go on. "Doctor, I think something's wrong. He…he looks confused about something."

Miller halted mid-sentence. "Mr. Doherty? Is something wrong?"

Jimmy nodded, moving his head slightly up and down. Even with his precautions, he still gagged a little as the tube scratched his throat. He shut his eyes and tried to relax. The feeling of unease was back, making his heart beat faster until it was thumping painfully in his chest.

"Jimmy? It's okay, Jimmy, just try to calm down."

His eyes shot open, and he shook his head, ignoring the pain it caused. I want to know what is going on! he shouted mentally. He grasped Kim's hand weakly and looked at her, pleading with his eyes.

Kim's face paled a bit more, and she swallowed. "Dr. Miller…I don't think he remembers what happened."

"Mr. Doherty, look at me. Look right here."

Dr. Miller's voice was grave and demanding. It penetrated the thick wall of fear that had wrapped itself tightly around his mind, stifling any rational thought. Jimmy automatically obeyed, forcing his gaze reluctantly away from Kim's and focusing on the doctor.

The doctor's brown eyes were bright with concern as they stared into Jimmy's. "Okay, Mr. Doherty. This is what we're going to do. I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I need you to squeeze Kim's hand to answer. Squeeze once for 'yes' and twice for 'no.' Do you understand?"

He squeezed Kim's hand once weakly. "He understands."

"Good. Now, do you remember your fall?"

Jimmy squeezed twice. "No." Kim's voice wavered unsteadily.

"Hmmm. Do you remember the fire?"

There was a fire? he thought, as he answered "no." This time Kim didn't even speak, just shook her head when the doctor looked at her to translate.

Miller frowned. "Mr. Doherty, do you remember anything at all about that day?"

Again, he said "no." Jimmy was starting to get frightened. I don't understand. Why won't someone tell me what happened? Don't they get it?! I DON'T REMEMBER! Panic surged through him like a bolt of electricity, spurring him into action. He needed to know what was going on, needed to speak to someone – NOW!

He frantically reached up and clawed at his mouth, trying to pull out the ventilator tube. I want it out! Get it out! GET IT OUT NOW! He screamed, ignoring the fierce wave of pain that flooded his body at the sudden movement. The panic was so great that he was completely oblivious to it. The only thing that mattered to him was getting his airway cleared.

A hand grabbed his left arm in an iron grip and pressed it firmly back down before he could raise it more than a few inches off the bed. For some reason, it didn't obey and seemed heavier than he remembered, like it was weighed down. He felt a brief flash of pain at the pressure, but continued to struggle against it. His right arm reached his mouth, and his trembling fingers tore helplessly at the tape. Someone else quickly pulled his hand away, trapping it at his side.

NO! LET…ME…GO! With each word, he fought harder against the hands holding him down. How long he struggled, he wasn't sure. Time had no meaning. The only thing that matter was escaping the hands and yanking the tube out of his mouth. But all too quickly, the rush of adrenaline faded away, taking with it his energy and his will to fight. He lay there trembling, exhausted, his once iron-strong spirit cracked and splintering. He kept his eyes closed tightly as the oxygen from the ventilator made its way through his lungs.

Then, the pain rammed into him with the force of a tractor-trailer going ninety miles an hour. A searing pain sliced through the left side of his chest, cutting its way to his lungs where it morphed into a thousand razor blades that stabbed him ruthlessly. Every regulated breath was agony, sucking him into a new dimension full of pain. A separate tremor of pain started in his left shoulder, traveling all the way down his arm, burning like a forest fire. It felt like his flesh was melting off from the inside out.

He could hear voices in the distance, their words swirling around him like a firestorm. He could feel a hand holding his right one, and he squeezed it tightly as each new wave of pain rolled over him.

Tears streamed from his eyes, wrenched out of him by the torment he was suffering. The cold, wet tears sliding down his face felt like ice upon his heated skin. A soft, cool cloth touched his face, wiping away the sweat and tears. It felt like an angel had reached down into his hell, giving him a moment of relief among the flames of pain that threatened to consume him.

Slowly, the torturous pain began to ease, allowing him to think and hear clearly again. His eyes fluttered open.

The first thing he saw was Kim standing beside him, holding his right hand with one of her own and wiping his face with the other. As his eyes focused on her face, he noticed that she looked more worried than ever. Her pale face looked strained, and her beautiful eyes were full of fear. But no matter how upset she seemed, she put on a brave front for him. She smiled faintly, "Are you feeling any better?"

Unable to answer, he simply squeezed her hand once. A moment later, Dr. Miller appeared behind his ex-wife.

"Mr. Doherty, I gave you something to ease the pain, but you need to relax for it to take affect. It's going to make you a little sleepy." The doctor glanced over at Kim and then back to Jimmy. "It appears that the concussion you received has caused a short term memory loss. I don't know when – or if – you'll remember what happened." He nodded to Kim.

"Jimmy, it was an apartment fire." Kim spoke hesitantly. "The fire had already engulfed the fourth floor of the building and was moving down into the third. Your ladder divided up and began to search the floors to make sure no one had been left behind. You took the third floor."

Jimmy stared up at her, noting how uneasy she was discussing his accident. She wouldn't look straight at him, keeping her eyes glued to their joined hands. It must have been pretty bad, he thought, watching her struggle to continue speaking. She…she's afraid. His stomach clenched at the thought. Kim was one of the strongest people he knew. She could wade into any emergency situation and never even flinch. If she's this upset…he refused to finish the troubling thought, concentrating instead on Kim as she continued.

"The floor – collapsed. You fell … Don and Manny found you trapped under some debris and pulled you out before the fire could reach you. Y-you were…in bad shape." She started to say something else, but stopped. Suddenly releasing her tight grip on his hand, she turned her back to Jimmy and stammered, "I – I'm sorry. I just can't – " Her eyes welling up with tears, she stumbled blindly out of the room and into the hallway.

Shifting his head slightly on the pillow, Jimmy watched, stunned, as she fled the room. He wanted to move to go after her and comfort her; his heart ached to see her so upset. She shouldn't be alone. He turned back to see Dr. Miller still staring at the door, his expression troubled. As if feeling he was being watched, he glanced back to his patient and shook his head. Help her, Jimmy ordered with his eyes.

"Don't worry, Mr. Doherty. She won't be alone. There's always someone else here for her – another firefighter, paramedic, or cop. It seems that you're quite popular." He flashed a quick smile. "Last time I checked, there was a paramedic out there – Doc, I think. She'll be all right."

"Well, I suppose I'd better finish the story. Like Kim said, the floor collapsed causing you to fall. You landed on your left side. Because of that, most of your injuries occurred on that side. Your left shoulder was dislocated, and your left forearm was broken. I don't know if you've realized it yet, but we have a cast on your forearm; we also have your shoulder immobilized with a partial cast."

He reached down and carefully moved down the white hospital sheet a few inches, revealing Jimmy's cast-covered upper chest. "See, the cast wraps all the way around the top of your chest – basically over the collarbone – and then extends over your shoulder and ends about halfway down your upper arm." He smiled good-naturedly. "I'm afraid you're not going to be using that arm for quite a while, at least three weeks. The break should heal without a problem but we have to keep a close watch on that shoulder."

Dr. Miller cleared his throat, "Your head impacted the floor when you landed – you received a pretty bad concussion. Unfortunately, there's not much we can do about that. The main thing is to keep calm," he heavily emphasized the last word, "and to get some sleep. Oh, and try not to move around much…not that you can right now anyway."

The doctor paused and studied Jimmy for a few moments, examining his face intently, almost as if he were evaluating him. Jimmy met his gaze and held it without wavering, even though he was beginning to feel fatigued again. The medicine must be working, he thought. The doc said I'd start to feel sleepy. I'm tired, but I want – no, need – to know what's wrong with me. He struggled to maintain steady eye contact, resisting the tempting lure of sleep. Finally, the doctor seemed to make up his mind.

"The last, and the most serious, of your injuries are your lungs. When you fell, you broke three ribs, one of which punctured your left lung and caused some heavy internal bleeding. The ER doctors operated on you immediately upon your arrival and repaired the damage, but you had lost a lot of blood and were not able to breathe on your own. That is one of the reasons for the ventilator."

Wait a minute, Doherty thought sleepily. Did he just say 'one' of the reasons? What – what does that mean? He forced his wandering mind to pay attention, though the action was difficult. He barely succeeded.

"The other reason we have you on a ventilator is…a bit more complicated." The young physician shifted uncomfortably in the chair by the bed. "Mr. Doherty, when you were found, you were not wearing your oxygen mask. I'm not sure how it happened – maybe it was knocked off by the debris – I don't know, but the fact is, your lungs were exposed to a tremendous amount of smoke and heat before you were rescued." Dr. Miller finally met Jimmy's gaze directly. "Your lungs were severely damaged – the lining of your lungs and your throat, as well, were scorched by the heat. All the smoke you inhaled during that time only compounded the problem."

Jimmy heard the doctor's words but was too drained to feel worried. He knew he should be alarmed, upset…something, but his mind kept drifting away. He felt warm and comfortable, could not keep his eyelids from sliding shut. The only thing he wanted to do was sleep. He blinked drowsily, and the objects in the room seemed to waver in and out of focus.

The doctor seemed to see how hard he was fighting to stay awake. "It's okay, Mr. Doherty. Rest now. We can talk about this later. Just relax."

The silence in the room was heavenly. His foggy mind scarcely noticed the beeps and hums of the machines. He was just drifting off to sleep, the pain medication finally gaining control, when he heard the door open.

Kim's voice was subdued and throaty from crying. "Is he asleep?"

"Yes. It took longer than usual, but the medication finally worked."

If his eyelids hadn't become too heavy to lift, they would have shot open as her hand tenderly smoothed his dark hair back from his forehead. She brushed her hand lightly through his hair, then moved it down to caress his cheek. "Poor Jimmy. Did…did you tell him…?"

The doctor didn't reply right away. "About the fall? Yes."

"But…not – not the rest?"

"No. I don't think he could take it right now in his condition. Besides, it appears he doesn't remember anything about the fire."

"Jimmy doesn't deal with…that sort of thing very well. Do you think he could have blocked his memory on purpose?"

"Hmmm. I hadn't thought of that," Dr. Miller spoke thoughtfully. "It's possible. With something that traumatic…Well, all we can do is wait and see what happens."

Kim sighed deeply. "He's going to find out eventually. Sooner or later, he's going to have to have to face it."

"Let's hope that it's later, then."

Those were the last words that Jimmy Doherty heard as he finally relaxed and slipped off to sleep.