Thank-you to everyone that reviewed. You guys make it so much easier for me to keep going. Here's the third chapter for all of you wonderful TW fans. It may not explain a whole lot, but I know exactly where I am going so please be patient. It's just hard to relate the whole story through one character's POV but I promise, it will all come together in the end. Another note, I do not plan on following the new season through this story, however, I may steal something if I like it and it fits in!
Special thanks go out to Sarah, whose editing makes my life so much easier!
Enjoy, and if you like it, please review to let me know. It will only encourage me to write the next chapter faster. Thanks again,
Joey
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
-The Hours After-
Chapter 3
"The Officer's CT scan results are back. There were no signs of epidural or subdural hematoma, but there is a mild cerebral contusion. Do you want me to send for an additional MRI and a neuro consult ?"
"No, that's fine, Megan. We'll just keep a close eye on him for the next few hours. If he's still non-coherent, I'll have neurology run some more specific tests."
Hmmm…. Damn Doc, do you have to talk so damn loud? I can't complain too much though, they must have really upped the painkillers because the lightning that was shooting through my skull earlier has diminished, replaced by a dull throb. I do an inventory of my other body parts. The aching I experienced earlier is still there, but less intense. My arms and legs feel as though they are asleep, it's almost as if I've gone completely numb.
"What about his blood cultures? Have they come back yet?"
"Yeah, they were sent down about 5 minutes ago. It showed nothing drastic, but I'll let you have a look at it. His white blood cell count is a little low and his electrolytes are all out of whack, but he was dehydrated. I can draw another sample in an hour or so if you'd like to check up on that."
"No, no. We've been pumping enough fluids into him that it should take care of itself. Just let me know if his temperature gets any higher. What's he at right now?"
"100.9"
"Yeah…. As long as it stays low grade I'm not going to panic. He's been through a lot. Has there been any news about his partner with the GSW?"
"I haven't heard, but two officers came down here about 10 minutes ago to talk to him, saw that he was asleep, and left. I don't know if they just came to check on him or if they had any news"
That's it. I've got to open my eyes. If there is something to know, I need to know it. This shouldn't be so hard. I feel as if there are a thousand doors that I have to open before I can see the world outside. As my internal struggle continues, through my eyelids I notice a change in light, and hear the click of a door closing.
Damn, they've left. Get back here, I need to know. I need to know about Faith. I try tilting my head to the side. The movement is effective and seems to break the ice enough that I am able to crack my eyes open. The room is dark, and all I can see are the bright green lights filtering out from the monitor beside my bed. As my eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, I am able to make out the subtle forms of the objects in my room. I clear my throat and swallow in an attempt to regain my voice. I need to let them know I'm awake so I can find out about Faith.
I attempt to pull myself forward by gripping onto the bars on either side of the bed. I'll need to be upright if they have any chance of hearing me. I can see a shadow moving through the crack of light under the door.
"Nurse!" I call out, but my voice cracks in the middle causing me to cough several times. The shadow evanesces and it appears as though she doesn't hear me. The exertion causes the pounding in my head to resume, and again, I'm left nauseous. I drop my chin down towards my chest and close my eyes, breathing as deeply as possible, waiting for the feeling to pass. When I'm sure the worst is over, I lift my head and wrack my sore brain for another solution.
The call button. Where the hell do they keep those things? I've heard people refer to them before but I've never stayed in a hospital long enough to actually get to use one. I run my right hand across the bedside bar. I am rewarded when I feel the small, protruding, plastic button. Should I press it? What if it's not what I think is? What if I trigger some sort of fire alarm? God knows I don't need the bucket boys rushing into my room right now.
Alex. My mind retreats to the brief conversation I had with Kim. Maybe she's just hurt. I saw her today though. She was at that crash. I know I'm being naive to believe that it could be anything less than death. I saw Kim's eyes. I've seen that expression before. That is the expression of pure sorrow, anguish, despair... death. I can feel the weight of dread pressing on my chest from the mere thought of that word. There's far too much death in my chosen line of work. You see more people die than you can even begin to help. I can't lose her, I can't feel that horrid feeling of deprivation. My body shudders, breaking my chain of thoughts, dragging me back to reality.
I'm shaking violently now, my breaths becoming shorter with each agonizing second. No. I can't fall back into that separated world I've been drifting in and out of. I know my strength is quickly fading and my minutes of coherent consciousness are limited. I press my finger into the call button and wait. I concentrate on breathing slowly, and try to maintain the mental function necessary to ask the one question that I can't rest until I know the answer to. After a small eternity, my light comes on and I am approached by a nurse that I don't recognize.
"You called, Mr. Boscorelli?"
I nearly burst when asking the question - I can't waste time making small talk, "My partner? How's my partner?"
I don't even recognize my own voice as it cracks at the end of every word.
"Your partner?" she asks, and it's obvious that she has not been debriefed on my situation.
"I'll see if I can find him. What's his name?"
"Yokas. Her name is Fa…" I run out of breath and swallow again, suppressing all the pain and uneasiness that is searing though my body, "Faith Yokas."
"Faith Yokas? Okay, I'll go check on her for you. You're going to have to lie down though," she makes a move towards me, but before she can gently lower me back onto the gurney, my muscles spasm, causing my upper body to slam hard into the metal bar that I am gripping. She dives, catching me before I flip over the side and onto the floor. I have lost all physical control over my body, but I am determined to remain conscious until I know that Faith is alright. I figure I can stay awake as long as I don't physically exert myself, and seeing as how that isn't even an option right now, my chances are good.
"Mr. Boscorelli, are you still with me? Do you feel any weakness or numbness?"
No, I feel strong as on ox, that's why I just clothes-lined myself on my gurney. Jesus, some of the people in this hospital are slow. No wonder she's on the night shift.
"My partner.... please..." I'm pleading with her now.
As she's rushing out the door she calls out to me, "I'm going to get a doctor and then I'll check on your partner for you, okay?"
Who cares about me! Go find out about Faith. This should not be such a challenge. The door swings open and Dr. Reeves rushes towards me, stethoscope in hand.
"Officer Boscorelli, are you experiencing any difficulty breathing?"
He's now pressing the cold stethoscope onto my chest, causing another violent tremor to wrack my body. I try to respond, but I can't talk. The searing pain is causing a ringing in my ears and I find myself too exhausted to form words.
"Can you feel your legs and arms?" he's speaking louder, assuming I just couldn't hear him the last time. I read you loud and clear, Doc, but don't expect an answer anytime soon.
"Temp's 101.6, BP's low at 80/50," a female voice yells out.
I glance around the room and realize I am completely surrounded by medical personnel. Doctor Reeves is barking out orders that I can't make out through my pain-ridden haze. My eyes are fixed on the doorway, waiting for the nurse who's supposed to be checking on Faith. I can feel people poking at my throat and pressing on my chest, but I ignore them and keep my focus straight ahead, waiting for my answer. Seconds later, Lieutenant Swersky casually strolls into my room, then slams to a halt when he notices all the activity that is surrounding me.
"What's going on? Is he okay?"
Swersky is frantically shooting his gaze between the doctors and nurses, searching for an explanation.
"We don't know yet, Sir. You're going to have to wait outside," Dr. Reeves calls out, not removing his gaze from whatever he is doing to my chest.
A nurse approaches Swersky, gently pushing him backwards through the door in which he had just entered.
NO! I just want one thing, one GOD DAMNED THING from these people and NO ONE will give it to me. I try to gather any last resources of energy I have to yell out to Swersky, "No! Faith..." My attempt is failed and I start to convulse with violent coughs. I can't breathe. The coughing is involuntary and sends spasms of pain through my chest and head. I really can't breathe and I feel like I'm drowning, each ragged breath pulling less and less oxygen into my burning lungs.
Before the door that separates myself from Lieutenant Swersky drifts shut, he yells out to me, "She'll be alright, Bosco. She'll be alright."
Despite the cruel, burning sensation that has enveloped me, I feel a wave of satisfying comfort. That's all I needed to know, that's all I ever wanted.
Everyone's yelling now, but all I can hear is the sweet repetition of Swersky's last words. I think I'm smiling; and through my foggy gaze, I see Dr. Reeves diving to tear off the oxygen mask that had been placed over my mouth and nose. The perky nurse from earlier is suddenly all business as she roughly grabs my arm and flips me on my stomach so I don't choke on my own vomit. I actually don't care about the violent, heaving, convulsions. I don't care about the lightning in my head or the burning in my chest. I don't care that I feel like I am drowning. All I can hear are those three beautiful words, "She'll be alright."
TBC. Let me know what you think!
Special thanks go out to Sarah, whose editing makes my life so much easier!
Enjoy, and if you like it, please review to let me know. It will only encourage me to write the next chapter faster. Thanks again,
Joey
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
-The Hours After-
Chapter 3
"The Officer's CT scan results are back. There were no signs of epidural or subdural hematoma, but there is a mild cerebral contusion. Do you want me to send for an additional MRI and a neuro consult ?"
"No, that's fine, Megan. We'll just keep a close eye on him for the next few hours. If he's still non-coherent, I'll have neurology run some more specific tests."
Hmmm…. Damn Doc, do you have to talk so damn loud? I can't complain too much though, they must have really upped the painkillers because the lightning that was shooting through my skull earlier has diminished, replaced by a dull throb. I do an inventory of my other body parts. The aching I experienced earlier is still there, but less intense. My arms and legs feel as though they are asleep, it's almost as if I've gone completely numb.
"What about his blood cultures? Have they come back yet?"
"Yeah, they were sent down about 5 minutes ago. It showed nothing drastic, but I'll let you have a look at it. His white blood cell count is a little low and his electrolytes are all out of whack, but he was dehydrated. I can draw another sample in an hour or so if you'd like to check up on that."
"No, no. We've been pumping enough fluids into him that it should take care of itself. Just let me know if his temperature gets any higher. What's he at right now?"
"100.9"
"Yeah…. As long as it stays low grade I'm not going to panic. He's been through a lot. Has there been any news about his partner with the GSW?"
"I haven't heard, but two officers came down here about 10 minutes ago to talk to him, saw that he was asleep, and left. I don't know if they just came to check on him or if they had any news"
That's it. I've got to open my eyes. If there is something to know, I need to know it. This shouldn't be so hard. I feel as if there are a thousand doors that I have to open before I can see the world outside. As my internal struggle continues, through my eyelids I notice a change in light, and hear the click of a door closing.
Damn, they've left. Get back here, I need to know. I need to know about Faith. I try tilting my head to the side. The movement is effective and seems to break the ice enough that I am able to crack my eyes open. The room is dark, and all I can see are the bright green lights filtering out from the monitor beside my bed. As my eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, I am able to make out the subtle forms of the objects in my room. I clear my throat and swallow in an attempt to regain my voice. I need to let them know I'm awake so I can find out about Faith.
I attempt to pull myself forward by gripping onto the bars on either side of the bed. I'll need to be upright if they have any chance of hearing me. I can see a shadow moving through the crack of light under the door.
"Nurse!" I call out, but my voice cracks in the middle causing me to cough several times. The shadow evanesces and it appears as though she doesn't hear me. The exertion causes the pounding in my head to resume, and again, I'm left nauseous. I drop my chin down towards my chest and close my eyes, breathing as deeply as possible, waiting for the feeling to pass. When I'm sure the worst is over, I lift my head and wrack my sore brain for another solution.
The call button. Where the hell do they keep those things? I've heard people refer to them before but I've never stayed in a hospital long enough to actually get to use one. I run my right hand across the bedside bar. I am rewarded when I feel the small, protruding, plastic button. Should I press it? What if it's not what I think is? What if I trigger some sort of fire alarm? God knows I don't need the bucket boys rushing into my room right now.
Alex. My mind retreats to the brief conversation I had with Kim. Maybe she's just hurt. I saw her today though. She was at that crash. I know I'm being naive to believe that it could be anything less than death. I saw Kim's eyes. I've seen that expression before. That is the expression of pure sorrow, anguish, despair... death. I can feel the weight of dread pressing on my chest from the mere thought of that word. There's far too much death in my chosen line of work. You see more people die than you can even begin to help. I can't lose her, I can't feel that horrid feeling of deprivation. My body shudders, breaking my chain of thoughts, dragging me back to reality.
I'm shaking violently now, my breaths becoming shorter with each agonizing second. No. I can't fall back into that separated world I've been drifting in and out of. I know my strength is quickly fading and my minutes of coherent consciousness are limited. I press my finger into the call button and wait. I concentrate on breathing slowly, and try to maintain the mental function necessary to ask the one question that I can't rest until I know the answer to. After a small eternity, my light comes on and I am approached by a nurse that I don't recognize.
"You called, Mr. Boscorelli?"
I nearly burst when asking the question - I can't waste time making small talk, "My partner? How's my partner?"
I don't even recognize my own voice as it cracks at the end of every word.
"Your partner?" she asks, and it's obvious that she has not been debriefed on my situation.
"I'll see if I can find him. What's his name?"
"Yokas. Her name is Fa…" I run out of breath and swallow again, suppressing all the pain and uneasiness that is searing though my body, "Faith Yokas."
"Faith Yokas? Okay, I'll go check on her for you. You're going to have to lie down though," she makes a move towards me, but before she can gently lower me back onto the gurney, my muscles spasm, causing my upper body to slam hard into the metal bar that I am gripping. She dives, catching me before I flip over the side and onto the floor. I have lost all physical control over my body, but I am determined to remain conscious until I know that Faith is alright. I figure I can stay awake as long as I don't physically exert myself, and seeing as how that isn't even an option right now, my chances are good.
"Mr. Boscorelli, are you still with me? Do you feel any weakness or numbness?"
No, I feel strong as on ox, that's why I just clothes-lined myself on my gurney. Jesus, some of the people in this hospital are slow. No wonder she's on the night shift.
"My partner.... please..." I'm pleading with her now.
As she's rushing out the door she calls out to me, "I'm going to get a doctor and then I'll check on your partner for you, okay?"
Who cares about me! Go find out about Faith. This should not be such a challenge. The door swings open and Dr. Reeves rushes towards me, stethoscope in hand.
"Officer Boscorelli, are you experiencing any difficulty breathing?"
He's now pressing the cold stethoscope onto my chest, causing another violent tremor to wrack my body. I try to respond, but I can't talk. The searing pain is causing a ringing in my ears and I find myself too exhausted to form words.
"Can you feel your legs and arms?" he's speaking louder, assuming I just couldn't hear him the last time. I read you loud and clear, Doc, but don't expect an answer anytime soon.
"Temp's 101.6, BP's low at 80/50," a female voice yells out.
I glance around the room and realize I am completely surrounded by medical personnel. Doctor Reeves is barking out orders that I can't make out through my pain-ridden haze. My eyes are fixed on the doorway, waiting for the nurse who's supposed to be checking on Faith. I can feel people poking at my throat and pressing on my chest, but I ignore them and keep my focus straight ahead, waiting for my answer. Seconds later, Lieutenant Swersky casually strolls into my room, then slams to a halt when he notices all the activity that is surrounding me.
"What's going on? Is he okay?"
Swersky is frantically shooting his gaze between the doctors and nurses, searching for an explanation.
"We don't know yet, Sir. You're going to have to wait outside," Dr. Reeves calls out, not removing his gaze from whatever he is doing to my chest.
A nurse approaches Swersky, gently pushing him backwards through the door in which he had just entered.
NO! I just want one thing, one GOD DAMNED THING from these people and NO ONE will give it to me. I try to gather any last resources of energy I have to yell out to Swersky, "No! Faith..." My attempt is failed and I start to convulse with violent coughs. I can't breathe. The coughing is involuntary and sends spasms of pain through my chest and head. I really can't breathe and I feel like I'm drowning, each ragged breath pulling less and less oxygen into my burning lungs.
Before the door that separates myself from Lieutenant Swersky drifts shut, he yells out to me, "She'll be alright, Bosco. She'll be alright."
Despite the cruel, burning sensation that has enveloped me, I feel a wave of satisfying comfort. That's all I needed to know, that's all I ever wanted.
Everyone's yelling now, but all I can hear is the sweet repetition of Swersky's last words. I think I'm smiling; and through my foggy gaze, I see Dr. Reeves diving to tear off the oxygen mask that had been placed over my mouth and nose. The perky nurse from earlier is suddenly all business as she roughly grabs my arm and flips me on my stomach so I don't choke on my own vomit. I actually don't care about the violent, heaving, convulsions. I don't care about the lightning in my head or the burning in my chest. I don't care that I feel like I am drowning. All I can hear are those three beautiful words, "She'll be alright."
TBC. Let me know what you think!