Authors' Note: Ok...chapter 16. Hope you enjoy this people, as we are not posting again until next week. It's Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada, so hopefully we'll get a good chunk written then. Until then....*Review*

The Nightrunners







Adam Gordon's Very Bad Day

Soundtrack: What You Are (Dave Matthews Band)

I walk into this room
Oh, all eyes on me now
But I do not know the people inside
They look straight through me, these eyes
Seeking more wisdom than I have to give away
Realize, realize what you are...

What you've become,
Just as I have
Are you and I so unalike?
I don't hear you
Just as I am
Afraid if we dance we might die
Mock the world
Live safe, say why
Don't you know if you live life
Then you become what you are

The seasons sparing
We're all drifting away
Away from you
I pray for you now

Hoping to God on high
Is like clinging to straws
While drowning, oh
Realize, realize what you are...

What you've become
Just as I have
Are you and I so unalike?
I don't hear you
Just as I am
Afraid if we dance we might die
Mock the world
Live safe, say why
Don't you know
When you live life
Then you become what you are

What you are
Is the beast in a lover's arms
What you are
Is the devil in the sweet, sweet kiss
What you are
Is missing a piece
What you are
Is a puzzle to me

What you've become
Just as I have
Are you and I so unalike?
I don't hear you
Just as I am
Afraid if we dance we might die
What the world gives to you
Don't you know
When you give life
Then you become what you are?

Don't trust me
Trust you...
Up to you...
Trust you...


All in all, Adam decided, unconsciousness wasn't so bad. You didn't have to worry that your partner had seemed on the edge for weeks, that dead people you were trying to resuscitate were going to grin and walk away, or that enemy helicopters were going to blow you out of the sky. All you had to do was relax, and the nice blackness would take care of everything.

Of course, they were trying to wake him up. Stupid bastards.

"Adam Gordon. If you can hear me, I want you to open your eyes. Can you do that for me?"

Grudgingly, Adam cracked one lid, assaulting his brain with light. Slamming it shut, he managed to clear his throat. "No."

Someone prodded the side of his head. "Stop being so stubborn and open your eyes. You can't possibly be tired. You've been asleep for over twelve hours."

"Fine." Adam groaned. "Just get rid of the light."

The light swung obligingly out of his field of view, and the cop opened his eyes. He was, in fact, lying on his back on a cot in a uniformly boring room. His shoulder and ribs were bandaged, and he was dressed in a pair of baggy cotton scrubs which somehow matched the room. The place had the bland, antiseptic feeling of a hospital, but the loud bustle that would normally accompany such a place was absent. There was a low murmur of voices in the distance, but the room was empty except for himself and-

"Shit!" Adam flew out of the bed, only to succeed in tangling his lower extremities in the bed sheets, landing himself in a an undignified heap on the floor. From this bug's eye view, his gaze followed a pair of legs clad in baggy black jeans, up towards a dark shirt, the blond hair, the green bandana, and the ever-present duster...

Another pair of legs moved into the picture. "Now see what you've done," another voice tut-tutted. "I'm not really that good at this healing thing. Do you want him to have a relapse or something?"

"My most sincere apologies. Officer Gordon, are you quite alright?"

Adam's vocal cords seemed to have seized. He noted, with some annoyance, that this sort of thing had been happening a lot lately. At precisely the same instant, the rest of Adam's body caught up with his brain, delivering the stunning realization that he was in a rather small amount of pain considering he'd been drowned, shot, and nearly chopped into fish bait.

A tall, angular man with shoulder-length blond hair was drawing him back to his feet, politely shoving him towards the bed with what was, nonetheless, complete finality. "Sit down, and do not move off that bed until I tell you that you may. You, Officer Gordon, very nearly died, and I'll be damned if you go and waste half a day's work on me."

Adam's attention, however, was focussed on the other occupant of the room. Duster-Boy had perched himself on the end of the cot, staring at him with a look in his eyes that the cop couldn't quite identify. Curiosity?

Hope?

Tall-Guy swept towards the door, throwing a glare over his shoulder. It was only slightly lessened by the gleam in his eye. "If he moves, my friend, you have my permission to knock him out again. That was the neatest bit of healing I've ever pulled in my life, and if he messes it up and dies on me, I'll be very, very annoyed."

The door clicked shut, leaving Adam alone in the room with the blond man he'd seen die. Had this been the faceless voice that had cut through the pain, the soothing words he had instinctively clung to?

"So, how old are you, anyway?"

"Excuse me?" Adam hadn't quite recovered from any of the night's shocks, so he wasn't ready to trust his ears yet.

"I asked you how old you were."

What the hell, answer the question; the day couldn't possibly get any weirder. "I'm thirty-one."

"Huh. That's funny. I would have said you were younger. You look like you're twenty-five. But I bet you hear that all the time."

For the life of him, Adam couldn't figure where this was going.

"Now me, I'm thirty-three thousand, give or take a few centuries."

Adam could only gape as the blond man continued, obviously unaware that he sounded like a complete lunatic.

"Officer Gordon, I represent a consortium, a fellowship if you will, and right now, we need your help..."

*********

I have to credit him, he did sit and listen to the entire speech. It was a good speech. After all, I'd practised it in my head for the last twelve hours.

Delivery finished, I sat back and waited for the expected results. They weren't long in coming.



"You're kidding, right?"

*Sigh.*

"Yes." I said, in the vain hopes that my sarcasm would penetrate his thick skull. "This has all been an elaborate hoax which I cooked up in my spare time because I have absolutely no life whatsoever, and subjected you to because you had the misfortune of watching me resurrect myself after being hit by a car. Congratulations, Adam Gordon. This isn't all about *you*, you know."

I really shouldn't have vented at the poor guy. It wasn't his fault; he'd been dead for thirty-thousand years, you couldn't exactly blame him for being reborn without the memories. But at this point, I was ready to kill Elrond. //Oh, it's all suppressed in theirsubconscious. They should remember with a little prodding.// A little prodding, my ass.

In the meantime, I noticed the cop looked a bit freaked. Okay, a *lot* freaked. For a moment, I debated sedating him, and starting the entire conversation over again in a few hours. I decided to plow ahead.

Not a very bright move, as it turned out, for Adam had used my momentary distraction to his advantage. Sneaky little bastard. As my head hit the wall hard enough to blow the world into primary colours, I reflected that, before this week, I hadn't experienced this much pain since the bloody Spanish Inquisition.

Adam flew past me, one hand reaching for the doorknob. He hadn't quite made it, however, when it was thrown open in a manner that was as subtle as a bulldozer.

Just as subtle as the twins, who both smacked into Adam, sending the lot of them tumbling to the floor. So much for the famed elven agility. Must be the Noldorian blood.

When the dust cleared, Adam was sitting on Elladan's back, his arms pinned by the cop's knees. Any sense of victory he might have felt, however, was drastically lessened by the fact that Elrohir had him in an excellent headlock. His face was slowly turning an unhealthy shade of purple, and I was mildly worried. Not overly worried, mind you. My head still ached too much to waste much sympathy on anyone else.

Oh, hell, I'd better intervene before someone did something stupid.

""Otorno"!" yelled Elrohir, sounding disgustingly cheery.

At the same instant, Elladan, in a similar tone: "Get off, little brother! You're a bit heavier than when you were a kid!"

Too late.

Elladan finally dislodged Adam, knocking him off in a manner that twisted his spine in a new and interesting way. The poor cop was wheezing, desperately trying to break Elrohir's hold, and the exuberant elf finally got the hint. He loosened his grip from a choke-hold to a bone-crushing hug.

The door flew open, and in charged Glorfindel, followed closely by Haldir. I decided to stay on the floor, safely out of the line of fire.

The blond Eldar grabbed the twins by the scruffs of their necks, one in each hand, hoisting them to their feet. Adopting a tone that had once sent hoards of orcs running for their collective lives, he let loose with a stream of elvish swear words that made even Haldir blush. Glorfindel then pitched them both out the door. I winced as I heard them thud off the opposite wall.

I felt so very tired all of a sudden. "Glorfindel, Haldir, go. Let me try talking to him again."

The other two elves slipped out. I could hear two contrite voices through the closed door- the twins. Apparently they'd trusted Elrond's belief that their little brother would remember them. Maybe I wouldn't kill the ex-Lord of Imladris. Maybe I'd just hurt him.

Adam was crouched against the wall, looking like a traumatised puppy, and not at all like a lost King of Men. I sat down next to him.

"Sorry about that." I said, as though I'd bumped him in the street rather than abruptly screwed up his life. I tugged my bandana off my head, picking at the knot and letting him stare at my ears for a while. Then, I stood and moved towards the table, picking up a syringe and filling it.

I was surprised when he suddenly spoke. He looked me straight in the eyes, and said in a soft, controlled tone: "This has not been a good day."

"I know, my friend." I agreed, sliding down the wall beside him again. "But you can't run forever."

I picked up his arm, which was limp and unresisting, and offered welcoming oblivion to Aragorn, my lost friend.

**********

Adam woke abruptly to the sound of a car alarm in the street below him. He was lying on his bed, in his apartment, the ceiling fan beating a slow pulse overhead. His uniform jacket was draped over a nearby chair, spotlessly clean, as though it hadn't been soaked in blood and dumped in the Hudson River...

He realized he'd been holding his breath, and exhaled hard. Just a dream. Just a dream, a horrible dream that he could tell Alice, and she'd laugh...

But, a little voice began to sing in the back of his head, 'Liar, liar, don't lie toyourself...'

He knew he couldn't fool himself. The people and their story had been insane, hell yeah, but it had definitely happened. Just like he'd been shot, and a short putt away from death, but now he felt...fine...

Something slipped between his fingers, and he glanced down at the small card in his lap. An elegant, cream-coloured business card, one side covered with flowing black script that meant nothing to him. On the other side, however, a short message was scribbled in green ink.

~*Sorry, we screwed up. Elessar, when you need to talk, here's where to find me. Legolas.*~

Adam stared at the card for a few moments longer, then tucked it into his pocket. Then, he grabbed his uniform jacket and headed out the door; towards a world of perfectly ordinary mortals, in a city of perfectly ordinary light.