AN: Who's the bestest beta in the world? LORI!!!!! She was my total life
saver for this chap and was cool enough to co-author it with me. Many hugs
to Lori for being such a sport and being sooooo supportive. Thanks a
million, girl!
Richie slid his hand in Cleo's back pocket as they walked down the street to the party. He had been told the party was going to be 'tight' whatever that meant. All he knew was when he got there he was going to be known as 'Leo'. That had become his new name. His friends decided that 'Richie' didn't fit with the new look. and he had to agree. When he looked in the mirror he didn't see a Richie. Richie had blonde hair and an innocent look. Leo was a Goth. When they were coming up with new names he had almost suggested "Mac," but if they called looking for him and Conner answered there would be a lot of explaining to do. So he broke the name down. Mac Leod. 'Leod sounded stupid. Leo on the other hand, that worked. Once they settled on a new name, Riche only existed to Conner.
Cleo and Richie attracted a lot of attention on the street. Between his piercing and newly acquired henna tattoos (a katana surrounded by blue lightning on his left bicep, a Celtic cross on his right forearm, and the Celtic infinity knot just above his pants were all clearly visible through strategically placed rips and tears despite the February wind) and Cleo's purple hair and chainmail bikini top and mini skirt, they were quite a sight to see as they made their way past street venders and bums. Richie had a pocket full of cash and a want to use Duncan as much as he could. It was his revenge. If Duncan wanted to send him away and still support him, it was fine with Richie. He would take all he could get.
"Here." Cleo dragged Richie to the left down a dark alley. Richie paid the doorman the $100 per person charge to get in. In less than five minutes, Cleo and Richie were settled on a couch together with all the pot and beer they wanted. Bongs were set up in one corner and plates of marijuana brownies and snacks were scattered about. Within minutes Richie was very calm, very relaxed, and very proud of himself.
Buzzbi, the leader of the gang Cleo belonged to and new friend of Richie's, talked for hours on end about what job they were going to pull next. The gang covered an area of five square blocks and they wanted to expand. They were going to rob a rival gang leader's house to get his attention and then take the whole gang down. It would double their territory. Buzzbi also gushed about how much fun Richie was going to have helping them.
"You know, Leo," he said putting a hand on Richie's shoulder. "If you really did all that junk you said you did, you're really going places with us."
At four the next morning, Richie snuck into the apartment. He collapsed face first on his bed and fell into a deep sleep. He didn't wake up until two that afternoon. While with nearly anyone, Richie would cop an attitude, Conner was a different story. With Conner he was his usual, cheerful, mostly polite, agreeable self. It seemed to Richie that as long as he never let on about changing anything but his appearance Conner would let him do as he pleased.
That night at dinner, Conner reminded Richie that he would be gone for the weekend.
"Are you sure you don't want to come along?" Conner asked. "You're more than welcome."
"No, I think I'll chill here," Richie said. "Would it be okay if I had a few friends over?"
"Just so long as you don't do anything illegal, go right ahead."
"Dually noted." It was a non-committal response in case Richie couldn't hold up his end of the bargain. Which he probably couldn't. He wasn't sure what was going to be going on. Well, not specifically. He knew he was going to be initiated into Cleo's gang. He hadn't been told what was going to happen.
"Suit yourself," Conner shrugged. Saturday morning Conner walked Richie through the house and made sure he knew where the phone numbers and guns were. "Don't play with them. but just in case," he told him. He also left him pizza money. "I'll be back Monday evening. I'll see you then. Call me if you need anything."
Richie set to work as soon as the taxi pulled away. He gathered up all the guns and locked them in the safe along with anything expensive and breakable looking. He did his best to remember where everything went.
At ten Saturday night, Cleo came over. She looked around the apartment with a look Richie couldn't quite figure out. They made out on the couch and had just started to move on to something more serious when Buzzbi showed up with beer.
"You'll need it, kid," he assured Richie handing him one.
A few minutes after that, six others showed up. One was carrying a very ominous looking bag. Richie figured whatever was in it had to do with the initiation. At least nothing in it was moving. At midnight Buzzbi decided it was time for Richie to officially join the gang.
"Tank, get him ready," he instructed. "Oh, Leo, take of your shirt first... shoes and socks, too."
Richie did as he was told.
The guy with the bag stepped forward and looked Richie in the eye. "Fun times." Something in his tone sent chills down Richie's back. Tank reached into his bag a pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He secured them around Richie's wrists, keeping his hands in the front. He then retrieved what looked like a large pair of handcuffs and secured them around Richie's ankles.
"What's going on?" Richie asked.
"You want to be part of us, don't you?" Cleo asked. "You belong with us. It will be over in a few minutes."
"I just want to know what's going to happen."
"Kneel and find out," Buzzbi told him. When Richie didn't move Tank and another guy pushed him to his knees. "It will just take a minute." Someone gagged Richie as Buzzbi was handed the bag. He reached in and pulled out a bullwhip. "Here we go."
He walked behind Richie and cracked the whip a few times. Richie jumped each time. He began to struggle to his feet when the whip bit into the flesh of his back. Richie yelled into the gag. He was hit repeatedly until he felt blood dripping onto his feet. He had decided six whips ago he decided he didn't want to do this anymore. Unfortunately, everyone was cheering and laughing so loud, they couldn't hear his muffled protests. The whip cracked and a new inch of flesh seared with pain and a new cry issued from Richie's mouth. Objects began swimming in front of him and Richie fought the urge to pass out. He felt someone lift him to his feet and remove the gag.
"Hope you had as much fun as we did," Buzzbi smiled, patting his cheek.
"Bastard," Richie mumbled as forcibly as he could.
Buzzbi just smiled. "Cleo, you tell him the score."
Cleo appeared in front of him. "We'll call the police and leave an anonymous tip that you're here. They'll take care of you. The deal is you don't tell them who did this. Then when you get out of the hospital, you're in. If you blab. we kill you. Simple as that."
Richie was panting with the effort to stay upright and focus on the people in front of him. "What?"
"That's the deal. We need to know we can trust you. So be a good boy and stay quiet, okay?" she asked as if the death threat was entirely normal.
"Uggghhhh." Richie moaned, feeling his knees give. He crashed to the floor, awkwardly tying to catch himself with his cuffed hands. He passed out before he could feel the pain of a bone breaking in his arm.
Richie knew nothing until he felt himself being gently shaken. He moaned and the voices that were surrounding him became louder and more forceful. "Sir, can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes for me. Sir?" Richie tried to force his eyes open but only managed a crack. "That's it, a little more. Do you know where you are, sir? What's your name?"
Richie groaned. All he could manage to get out through his dry throat was a croak. The second time he had more luck. "Rich-ie." He stumbled halfway through his name, voice cracking in protest. "I'm at Conner's."
"That's good. You'll be alright. We have to move you now. I'm going to count to three and then you'll feel me and my teammates left you up and put you on a stretcher. We won't drop you. Promise." The young EMT grinned at the young man in front of him, hoping to distract him long enough that they could transfer him to the stretcher without giving him too much extra pain. "Now, on one, two.Three!"
Richie felt himself being lifted by several hands and being placed on a long, flat surface that was significantly higher than the floor. He let out a few grunts of pain and one loud moan as several injured parts of his body hit the board. He was placed on his side only to roll over onto his back. When his shredded back hit the stretcher, Richie mercifully blacked out. He didn't come to until he after he had made the bumpy journey down to the ambulance from the apartment. They were just closing the doors when he became aware. Richie started struggling, fighting against the restraints that kept him from falling off the rolling table.
Gentle hands stopped him from hurting himself in the futile attempt to escape his bonds. "Easy, easy there. You're fine. You're en route to St. Mary's Hospital. We'll be there in just a few minutes. Okay?"
Richie was too out of it to truly understand more than the gentle tone of voice the medic was using. He stopped fighting against the ties and once again fell into the merciful blackness. He could feel every lash and cut that had been made tonight and he knew that he would be in serious pain for a long time to come. He gave in quickly, welcoming the pain free void that awaited him.
While Richie slept the ride away, the paramedics examined him, trying to stop the blood from escaping his body. Even the inexperienced workers knew that Richie had been seriously injured-most likely whipped-and would have a long, painful recovery ahead of him. He was in danger of bleeding out to rapidly and succumbing to the blood loss and if he did survive, would live with the scars for the rest of his life. Neither of the paramedics that rode in the back of the ambulance that night could understand why someone would cuff another person and proceed to beat them until almost dead. It was fortunate for this young man that one of his attackers had a guilty conscience and had called when they did. If they had waited any longer, the patient would most certainly have died.
Almost before they had finished these thoughts, the ambulance arrived at the emergency room entrance. Pulling open the doors, several doctors, nurses and orderlies surrounded the vehicle's door, "What do we have here?" asked the doctor on duty.
"Young male. Approximately 18 years old. Found in his apartment, cuffed and bleeding. Appears to be lacerations on 90 percent of his body. Unconscious when we arrived, woke up briefly twice, knew his name-Richie." The medic quickly filled the ER doctor in on Richie's vitals. During this recitation, Richie had been pushed in an evaluation room where calls for blood work, x-rays and other various tasks were called for. Finally the man had filled the doctor in on everything and then stopped following the group as he received his acknowledgement. He stood watching the scene for a few minutes, then walked back to his ride. He was still on duty and had others to save. His dismissal of the patient didn't stop him from hoping this patient got better soon; it just helped him realize that he had done his best and it was time for him to move on that night.
Richie was quickly examined and found to be, in lay man's terms, one massive bruise with deep cuts cover most of his body. They wouldn't need to operate on him, but had to quickly sew up the lacerations before he lost too much blood. He had already lost too much and they could only give him so much at a time. Slowly, but steadily, Richie's vitals rose from the dangerously low points they had been at when he arrived.
Everybody breathed a sigh of relief. He would make it. He would be in pain and still in the danger zone, but unless he had a relapse, he would live. The doctor ordered Richie to be placed in ICU. He still needed to be carefully watched until the threat of infection had passed. They were pumping him full of antibiotics, but had to be careful as his medical history was unknown. They wanted to make sure he wouldn't react adversely to the penicillin before fully trusting this treatment.
After a watchful period of time, Richie was declared not allergic to the medicine and was pumped full. They should be able to keep a full blown infection away. Richie was made comfortable and then left to heal undisturbed for a few hours.
He would remain unaware of the world around him, missing Rachel's frantic visit. Rachel had gone to check on Richie Sunday morning as Conner had requested. What she found when she opened the apartment doors was a pool of blood in the middle of the floor. She called all the hospitals looking for anyone matching Richie's description; she finally found him on her third call. She rushed to St. Mary's claiming to be Richie's aunt. She was escorted to his room when she preformed her own exam. He was on his left side with his back to the door. His right arm was covered in a thick, white cast , his left wrist was wrapped in gaze, as were both his ankles, and when the nurse untied the back of Richie's hospital gown all Rachel could do was keep herself for becoming hysteric. After being told it was after visiting hours, she left to call Conner, Duncan, and Tessa; they all promised to be there as soon as possible.
Conner was the first to arrive home. After talking to Rachel, they both went to see Richie. Conner was furious when he got a good look at Richie. It was going to take a lot of work to fix his body. Plastic surgery was definitely in Richie's future. Since he was listed as Richie guardian and Richie was listed as a minor (Rachel said he was seventeen), he was asked to make a list of who was permitted to visit. The list was short; his Aunt Rachel and his sister, Tessa.
. . . . . .
Duncan was the next to arrive and when he got to the hospital he received a big surprise. Apparently there was some confusion as to who Richie's guardian was. Duncan started to pace in the waiting room, suddenly the presence of another immortal interrupted his train of thought. Duncan stopped pacing and looked to the door in time to see Conner come in.
"You're here," Conner greeted. "I wasn't sure if you'd come."
"Of course I came!" Duncan shot back. "When I heard he was in the hospital, I got here as soon as I could."
"What makes you think I'm going to let you see him?"
Duncan looked shocked. "Why wouldn't you let me see him?"
"Because you'll just get his hopes up and then I'd have to start all over."
"What?"
"It took me three weeks to get him out of his room," Conner told him. "I'm not going through that again. Send a card. 'Best wishes, get better soon, too busy to come'."
"Conner! I would never do that! I'll always be here for Richie, no matter what!"
"Really?" Conner raised his eyebrows. "Where were you when this happened to him?"
"Where were you?" Duncan replied just as smugly.
"I gave him the option of coming with me... Unlike with you; he was the one who decided to stay."
"I want to see him, Conner," he insisted
"I want to protect him... just like I promised you I would."
"You didn't do a very good job, Conner."
"I can't watch him 24 hours a day."
"No, you can't watch him 24 hours a day," Duncan sighed. "But how could this have happened to the boy? Rachel said he was found in the apartment and that some girl had called 911. Someone he knew must have done this to him...who has he been seeing?"
"Friends... reasonably nice kids. He has a girlfriend and they go out a lot."
"If they're such nice kids, then how did this happen? It sounds like he knew someone that was involved."
"What? How do you know that, Duncan?"
"Rachel found your things in your safe. Richie must have put them there for safe keeping before this happened."
"I know he had friends over the other night."
"While you were gone?" Duncan asked. "Who was there to watch him?"
"He's 18! And like he was never alone with you."
"We never allowed him to have friends over without us there, save a select few that we knew well. I never had cause to doubt that he disobeyed the rules, either. And he certainly never ended up in the hospital while we were gone!"
"Things happen," Conner shrugged. "It was all harmless enough. The only thing he changed was his appearance."
"His appearance?" Duncan blinked. "What happened?"
"He's fine."
"Fine?" Duncan's voice rose with disbelief. "He's in the hospital! How do you know his new friends didn't put him here?"
"He'll tell us what happened when he wakes up."
"Wakes up? He's not conscious? My god, how hurt is he?"
"They just gave him something to relax him. He's just a little banged up."
"Banged up? How banged up? Nobody would tell me anything! Conner, what happened to him?"
"A broken arm and some.... cuts. I'll admit he will be worse for the wear, but it's nothing that isn't fixable."
"Fixable." Duncan repeated, voice flat.
"Yeah, fixable. Now why don't you go home and let me take of the boy."
Duncan looked at Conner. "You're really not going to let me see him, are you?"
"No. Like I said, I don't want to have to fix him after he realizes that you aren't going to take him home again. I won't do that to the boy, Duncan. He's still hurt; this is his way of moving on with his life."
"He won't have a life to move onto if you let him keep this up!"
"He was doing fine!" Conner defended. "We don't even know what happened yet. How do we know that this wasn't some random break in that had nothing to do with either his friends or immortals!?"
"Yeah, that's it... he hears someone break in and his first reaction is to hide all the guns and valuables in the safe," Duncan answered sarcastically.
"Fine, so that's not very likely. But what do you want me to do, Duncan? You can't have it both ways! You're in the boy's life for good--he goes back with you or he stays here and you don't come back, ever. He'll never get over losing you if you keep on giving him hope. Unless you decide that he's going to go back to Seacouver with you, you aren't getting in to see him. So just go. Don't come back unless you're here for good. I'll call you with updates and let you know how he's doing. Until you decide for sure... you stay away from him."
"Conner!"
"Maybe it was a mistake trusting him to you in the first place. I should have brought him home with me."
"What! How can you say that?" Duncan sputtered. "I love Richie!"
"Really? You sure aren't showing it..."
"Yes, I love Rich!"
"Then you have to decide how much you love him. Enough to leave him with me, or enough to work this out the way that is best for him."
"Best for him? It's best for him that he's not around me; I just get him hurt." Duncan stopped talking, and took a minute to think. "Maybe bringing him to you wasn't such a good idea either. Maybe there's a non- immortal that I could send the boy to. Maybe it's immortality that attacks trouble to him..."
"Duncan, he was brought to your store that night for a reason. If he's not with you, he'll be with me. That's all there is to it."
"But being with us could get him killed! He's too young to join the game!"
"He could get killed anywhere. And when that happens he needs someone to go to. I taught you and I'll teach him... hopefully I can teach him the meaning of family. Apparently that lesson was lost on you."
"Conner, that's not fair! He's too young to get exposed to this life we have to live. He'll always be family but I won't have him killed at 18 because of me. I want him to have a chance!"
"A chance where? On the street? What if he falls in with another immortal? He can't tell the difference."
Duncan sighed. "I just want him to be safe."
Conner looked at his watch. "I don't have time for you now. I have a hurt boy to look after. So I'll tell you this Duncan MacLeod. Make your decision. Either you see him and take him with you... or you leave and never come back. Whatever choice you make is final. And from here on out... I decide who he can see." Conner didn't wait for Duncan's answer; instead he walked to Richie's room. Duncan stared at Conner's retreating back, stunned at his ultimatum. Tessa would not be pleased.
Richie slid his hand in Cleo's back pocket as they walked down the street to the party. He had been told the party was going to be 'tight' whatever that meant. All he knew was when he got there he was going to be known as 'Leo'. That had become his new name. His friends decided that 'Richie' didn't fit with the new look. and he had to agree. When he looked in the mirror he didn't see a Richie. Richie had blonde hair and an innocent look. Leo was a Goth. When they were coming up with new names he had almost suggested "Mac," but if they called looking for him and Conner answered there would be a lot of explaining to do. So he broke the name down. Mac Leod. 'Leod sounded stupid. Leo on the other hand, that worked. Once they settled on a new name, Riche only existed to Conner.
Cleo and Richie attracted a lot of attention on the street. Between his piercing and newly acquired henna tattoos (a katana surrounded by blue lightning on his left bicep, a Celtic cross on his right forearm, and the Celtic infinity knot just above his pants were all clearly visible through strategically placed rips and tears despite the February wind) and Cleo's purple hair and chainmail bikini top and mini skirt, they were quite a sight to see as they made their way past street venders and bums. Richie had a pocket full of cash and a want to use Duncan as much as he could. It was his revenge. If Duncan wanted to send him away and still support him, it was fine with Richie. He would take all he could get.
"Here." Cleo dragged Richie to the left down a dark alley. Richie paid the doorman the $100 per person charge to get in. In less than five minutes, Cleo and Richie were settled on a couch together with all the pot and beer they wanted. Bongs were set up in one corner and plates of marijuana brownies and snacks were scattered about. Within minutes Richie was very calm, very relaxed, and very proud of himself.
Buzzbi, the leader of the gang Cleo belonged to and new friend of Richie's, talked for hours on end about what job they were going to pull next. The gang covered an area of five square blocks and they wanted to expand. They were going to rob a rival gang leader's house to get his attention and then take the whole gang down. It would double their territory. Buzzbi also gushed about how much fun Richie was going to have helping them.
"You know, Leo," he said putting a hand on Richie's shoulder. "If you really did all that junk you said you did, you're really going places with us."
At four the next morning, Richie snuck into the apartment. He collapsed face first on his bed and fell into a deep sleep. He didn't wake up until two that afternoon. While with nearly anyone, Richie would cop an attitude, Conner was a different story. With Conner he was his usual, cheerful, mostly polite, agreeable self. It seemed to Richie that as long as he never let on about changing anything but his appearance Conner would let him do as he pleased.
That night at dinner, Conner reminded Richie that he would be gone for the weekend.
"Are you sure you don't want to come along?" Conner asked. "You're more than welcome."
"No, I think I'll chill here," Richie said. "Would it be okay if I had a few friends over?"
"Just so long as you don't do anything illegal, go right ahead."
"Dually noted." It was a non-committal response in case Richie couldn't hold up his end of the bargain. Which he probably couldn't. He wasn't sure what was going to be going on. Well, not specifically. He knew he was going to be initiated into Cleo's gang. He hadn't been told what was going to happen.
"Suit yourself," Conner shrugged. Saturday morning Conner walked Richie through the house and made sure he knew where the phone numbers and guns were. "Don't play with them. but just in case," he told him. He also left him pizza money. "I'll be back Monday evening. I'll see you then. Call me if you need anything."
Richie set to work as soon as the taxi pulled away. He gathered up all the guns and locked them in the safe along with anything expensive and breakable looking. He did his best to remember where everything went.
At ten Saturday night, Cleo came over. She looked around the apartment with a look Richie couldn't quite figure out. They made out on the couch and had just started to move on to something more serious when Buzzbi showed up with beer.
"You'll need it, kid," he assured Richie handing him one.
A few minutes after that, six others showed up. One was carrying a very ominous looking bag. Richie figured whatever was in it had to do with the initiation. At least nothing in it was moving. At midnight Buzzbi decided it was time for Richie to officially join the gang.
"Tank, get him ready," he instructed. "Oh, Leo, take of your shirt first... shoes and socks, too."
Richie did as he was told.
The guy with the bag stepped forward and looked Richie in the eye. "Fun times." Something in his tone sent chills down Richie's back. Tank reached into his bag a pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He secured them around Richie's wrists, keeping his hands in the front. He then retrieved what looked like a large pair of handcuffs and secured them around Richie's ankles.
"What's going on?" Richie asked.
"You want to be part of us, don't you?" Cleo asked. "You belong with us. It will be over in a few minutes."
"I just want to know what's going to happen."
"Kneel and find out," Buzzbi told him. When Richie didn't move Tank and another guy pushed him to his knees. "It will just take a minute." Someone gagged Richie as Buzzbi was handed the bag. He reached in and pulled out a bullwhip. "Here we go."
He walked behind Richie and cracked the whip a few times. Richie jumped each time. He began to struggle to his feet when the whip bit into the flesh of his back. Richie yelled into the gag. He was hit repeatedly until he felt blood dripping onto his feet. He had decided six whips ago he decided he didn't want to do this anymore. Unfortunately, everyone was cheering and laughing so loud, they couldn't hear his muffled protests. The whip cracked and a new inch of flesh seared with pain and a new cry issued from Richie's mouth. Objects began swimming in front of him and Richie fought the urge to pass out. He felt someone lift him to his feet and remove the gag.
"Hope you had as much fun as we did," Buzzbi smiled, patting his cheek.
"Bastard," Richie mumbled as forcibly as he could.
Buzzbi just smiled. "Cleo, you tell him the score."
Cleo appeared in front of him. "We'll call the police and leave an anonymous tip that you're here. They'll take care of you. The deal is you don't tell them who did this. Then when you get out of the hospital, you're in. If you blab. we kill you. Simple as that."
Richie was panting with the effort to stay upright and focus on the people in front of him. "What?"
"That's the deal. We need to know we can trust you. So be a good boy and stay quiet, okay?" she asked as if the death threat was entirely normal.
"Uggghhhh." Richie moaned, feeling his knees give. He crashed to the floor, awkwardly tying to catch himself with his cuffed hands. He passed out before he could feel the pain of a bone breaking in his arm.
Richie knew nothing until he felt himself being gently shaken. He moaned and the voices that were surrounding him became louder and more forceful. "Sir, can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes for me. Sir?" Richie tried to force his eyes open but only managed a crack. "That's it, a little more. Do you know where you are, sir? What's your name?"
Richie groaned. All he could manage to get out through his dry throat was a croak. The second time he had more luck. "Rich-ie." He stumbled halfway through his name, voice cracking in protest. "I'm at Conner's."
"That's good. You'll be alright. We have to move you now. I'm going to count to three and then you'll feel me and my teammates left you up and put you on a stretcher. We won't drop you. Promise." The young EMT grinned at the young man in front of him, hoping to distract him long enough that they could transfer him to the stretcher without giving him too much extra pain. "Now, on one, two.Three!"
Richie felt himself being lifted by several hands and being placed on a long, flat surface that was significantly higher than the floor. He let out a few grunts of pain and one loud moan as several injured parts of his body hit the board. He was placed on his side only to roll over onto his back. When his shredded back hit the stretcher, Richie mercifully blacked out. He didn't come to until he after he had made the bumpy journey down to the ambulance from the apartment. They were just closing the doors when he became aware. Richie started struggling, fighting against the restraints that kept him from falling off the rolling table.
Gentle hands stopped him from hurting himself in the futile attempt to escape his bonds. "Easy, easy there. You're fine. You're en route to St. Mary's Hospital. We'll be there in just a few minutes. Okay?"
Richie was too out of it to truly understand more than the gentle tone of voice the medic was using. He stopped fighting against the ties and once again fell into the merciful blackness. He could feel every lash and cut that had been made tonight and he knew that he would be in serious pain for a long time to come. He gave in quickly, welcoming the pain free void that awaited him.
While Richie slept the ride away, the paramedics examined him, trying to stop the blood from escaping his body. Even the inexperienced workers knew that Richie had been seriously injured-most likely whipped-and would have a long, painful recovery ahead of him. He was in danger of bleeding out to rapidly and succumbing to the blood loss and if he did survive, would live with the scars for the rest of his life. Neither of the paramedics that rode in the back of the ambulance that night could understand why someone would cuff another person and proceed to beat them until almost dead. It was fortunate for this young man that one of his attackers had a guilty conscience and had called when they did. If they had waited any longer, the patient would most certainly have died.
Almost before they had finished these thoughts, the ambulance arrived at the emergency room entrance. Pulling open the doors, several doctors, nurses and orderlies surrounded the vehicle's door, "What do we have here?" asked the doctor on duty.
"Young male. Approximately 18 years old. Found in his apartment, cuffed and bleeding. Appears to be lacerations on 90 percent of his body. Unconscious when we arrived, woke up briefly twice, knew his name-Richie." The medic quickly filled the ER doctor in on Richie's vitals. During this recitation, Richie had been pushed in an evaluation room where calls for blood work, x-rays and other various tasks were called for. Finally the man had filled the doctor in on everything and then stopped following the group as he received his acknowledgement. He stood watching the scene for a few minutes, then walked back to his ride. He was still on duty and had others to save. His dismissal of the patient didn't stop him from hoping this patient got better soon; it just helped him realize that he had done his best and it was time for him to move on that night.
Richie was quickly examined and found to be, in lay man's terms, one massive bruise with deep cuts cover most of his body. They wouldn't need to operate on him, but had to quickly sew up the lacerations before he lost too much blood. He had already lost too much and they could only give him so much at a time. Slowly, but steadily, Richie's vitals rose from the dangerously low points they had been at when he arrived.
Everybody breathed a sigh of relief. He would make it. He would be in pain and still in the danger zone, but unless he had a relapse, he would live. The doctor ordered Richie to be placed in ICU. He still needed to be carefully watched until the threat of infection had passed. They were pumping him full of antibiotics, but had to be careful as his medical history was unknown. They wanted to make sure he wouldn't react adversely to the penicillin before fully trusting this treatment.
After a watchful period of time, Richie was declared not allergic to the medicine and was pumped full. They should be able to keep a full blown infection away. Richie was made comfortable and then left to heal undisturbed for a few hours.
He would remain unaware of the world around him, missing Rachel's frantic visit. Rachel had gone to check on Richie Sunday morning as Conner had requested. What she found when she opened the apartment doors was a pool of blood in the middle of the floor. She called all the hospitals looking for anyone matching Richie's description; she finally found him on her third call. She rushed to St. Mary's claiming to be Richie's aunt. She was escorted to his room when she preformed her own exam. He was on his left side with his back to the door. His right arm was covered in a thick, white cast , his left wrist was wrapped in gaze, as were both his ankles, and when the nurse untied the back of Richie's hospital gown all Rachel could do was keep herself for becoming hysteric. After being told it was after visiting hours, she left to call Conner, Duncan, and Tessa; they all promised to be there as soon as possible.
Conner was the first to arrive home. After talking to Rachel, they both went to see Richie. Conner was furious when he got a good look at Richie. It was going to take a lot of work to fix his body. Plastic surgery was definitely in Richie's future. Since he was listed as Richie guardian and Richie was listed as a minor (Rachel said he was seventeen), he was asked to make a list of who was permitted to visit. The list was short; his Aunt Rachel and his sister, Tessa.
. . . . . .
Duncan was the next to arrive and when he got to the hospital he received a big surprise. Apparently there was some confusion as to who Richie's guardian was. Duncan started to pace in the waiting room, suddenly the presence of another immortal interrupted his train of thought. Duncan stopped pacing and looked to the door in time to see Conner come in.
"You're here," Conner greeted. "I wasn't sure if you'd come."
"Of course I came!" Duncan shot back. "When I heard he was in the hospital, I got here as soon as I could."
"What makes you think I'm going to let you see him?"
Duncan looked shocked. "Why wouldn't you let me see him?"
"Because you'll just get his hopes up and then I'd have to start all over."
"What?"
"It took me three weeks to get him out of his room," Conner told him. "I'm not going through that again. Send a card. 'Best wishes, get better soon, too busy to come'."
"Conner! I would never do that! I'll always be here for Richie, no matter what!"
"Really?" Conner raised his eyebrows. "Where were you when this happened to him?"
"Where were you?" Duncan replied just as smugly.
"I gave him the option of coming with me... Unlike with you; he was the one who decided to stay."
"I want to see him, Conner," he insisted
"I want to protect him... just like I promised you I would."
"You didn't do a very good job, Conner."
"I can't watch him 24 hours a day."
"No, you can't watch him 24 hours a day," Duncan sighed. "But how could this have happened to the boy? Rachel said he was found in the apartment and that some girl had called 911. Someone he knew must have done this to him...who has he been seeing?"
"Friends... reasonably nice kids. He has a girlfriend and they go out a lot."
"If they're such nice kids, then how did this happen? It sounds like he knew someone that was involved."
"What? How do you know that, Duncan?"
"Rachel found your things in your safe. Richie must have put them there for safe keeping before this happened."
"I know he had friends over the other night."
"While you were gone?" Duncan asked. "Who was there to watch him?"
"He's 18! And like he was never alone with you."
"We never allowed him to have friends over without us there, save a select few that we knew well. I never had cause to doubt that he disobeyed the rules, either. And he certainly never ended up in the hospital while we were gone!"
"Things happen," Conner shrugged. "It was all harmless enough. The only thing he changed was his appearance."
"His appearance?" Duncan blinked. "What happened?"
"He's fine."
"Fine?" Duncan's voice rose with disbelief. "He's in the hospital! How do you know his new friends didn't put him here?"
"He'll tell us what happened when he wakes up."
"Wakes up? He's not conscious? My god, how hurt is he?"
"They just gave him something to relax him. He's just a little banged up."
"Banged up? How banged up? Nobody would tell me anything! Conner, what happened to him?"
"A broken arm and some.... cuts. I'll admit he will be worse for the wear, but it's nothing that isn't fixable."
"Fixable." Duncan repeated, voice flat.
"Yeah, fixable. Now why don't you go home and let me take of the boy."
Duncan looked at Conner. "You're really not going to let me see him, are you?"
"No. Like I said, I don't want to have to fix him after he realizes that you aren't going to take him home again. I won't do that to the boy, Duncan. He's still hurt; this is his way of moving on with his life."
"He won't have a life to move onto if you let him keep this up!"
"He was doing fine!" Conner defended. "We don't even know what happened yet. How do we know that this wasn't some random break in that had nothing to do with either his friends or immortals!?"
"Yeah, that's it... he hears someone break in and his first reaction is to hide all the guns and valuables in the safe," Duncan answered sarcastically.
"Fine, so that's not very likely. But what do you want me to do, Duncan? You can't have it both ways! You're in the boy's life for good--he goes back with you or he stays here and you don't come back, ever. He'll never get over losing you if you keep on giving him hope. Unless you decide that he's going to go back to Seacouver with you, you aren't getting in to see him. So just go. Don't come back unless you're here for good. I'll call you with updates and let you know how he's doing. Until you decide for sure... you stay away from him."
"Conner!"
"Maybe it was a mistake trusting him to you in the first place. I should have brought him home with me."
"What! How can you say that?" Duncan sputtered. "I love Richie!"
"Really? You sure aren't showing it..."
"Yes, I love Rich!"
"Then you have to decide how much you love him. Enough to leave him with me, or enough to work this out the way that is best for him."
"Best for him? It's best for him that he's not around me; I just get him hurt." Duncan stopped talking, and took a minute to think. "Maybe bringing him to you wasn't such a good idea either. Maybe there's a non- immortal that I could send the boy to. Maybe it's immortality that attacks trouble to him..."
"Duncan, he was brought to your store that night for a reason. If he's not with you, he'll be with me. That's all there is to it."
"But being with us could get him killed! He's too young to join the game!"
"He could get killed anywhere. And when that happens he needs someone to go to. I taught you and I'll teach him... hopefully I can teach him the meaning of family. Apparently that lesson was lost on you."
"Conner, that's not fair! He's too young to get exposed to this life we have to live. He'll always be family but I won't have him killed at 18 because of me. I want him to have a chance!"
"A chance where? On the street? What if he falls in with another immortal? He can't tell the difference."
Duncan sighed. "I just want him to be safe."
Conner looked at his watch. "I don't have time for you now. I have a hurt boy to look after. So I'll tell you this Duncan MacLeod. Make your decision. Either you see him and take him with you... or you leave and never come back. Whatever choice you make is final. And from here on out... I decide who he can see." Conner didn't wait for Duncan's answer; instead he walked to Richie's room. Duncan stared at Conner's retreating back, stunned at his ultimatum. Tessa would not be pleased.
