AN-Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! Only one chapter to go!!!
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Finally it seemed as though the void was lifting. The giant, trapping blackness was slowly phasing into a less trapping wash of light, and the dead weight that had been his body (or so he perceived) was once again registering itself as present and accounted for, piece by piece.
Sounds were returning, though as of yet they weren't anything recognizable. Just a cacophony of impossible to decipher noise. Then finally, those sounds began to separate, much as the shadows that had formed in the void that was his vision. Richie could isolate a voice, speaking in nonsensical syllables on his left. On his right there was a constant steady beeping, and a strange hiss-whir sound that came and went at intermittent intervals.
Somehow, those sounds together formed some sort of answer, and on any other day, Richie's mind could have formulated what exactly it was. However, today was not an ordinary day. So instead of focusing on what those sounds were, Richie focused his attention elsewhere. His limbs felt like jello, and both arms were paining him. It frustrated him greatly that he couldn't see what was wrong with them, but all that he could see were fuzzy edges with random splashes of color.
Then suddenly the nonsense stopped. Something about the presence of that noise brought comfort, and Richie turned his head in the direction that the sound had come from. Unfortunately all he saw was a big dark blur, but something inside him told him that it was important that he figure out what that blob was, and why it had stopped making noise. Richie focused on the blob intently, attempting to will it into a proper shape.
And Duncan then saw Richie regarding him intently, and was suddenly at a loss for words. It was as though Richie saw him, but didn't see him—or worse, didn't recognize him.
And then suddenly a whole bunch of sounds happened at once. There were voices, two of them, and they sounded like they were arguing. No, not arguing. Speaking loudly, but not angrily. Then another voice joined in, and Richie tried his best to isolate one of them, but they sounded far away and almost underwater. He knew that they were speaking English, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Was the gibberish like this? How would I know, it was gibberish…
Finally, one of the sounds made sense. Mac! Richie was elated for having recognized a voice finally. And also, if Mac was near by, then obviously he was going to be all right. Mac would take him out of here (wherever here was), and fix whatever was wrong with the world so that he could see it straight again. Unfortunately, Mac was still talking to the other voices. Richie needed to get his attention.
That's when he noticed the ventilator.
Richie thought he was opening his mouth to call for Duncan, but he discovered that his mouth was already opened… and that there were tubes going down his throat. His first automatic response was to gag, and this act triggered another insurgence of noise. The alarms went off and suddenly there was even more noise as even more voices joined the conversation that Richie couldn't decipher. However, he was too busy paying attention to the fact that whatever was down his throat was suffocating him. Richie panicked. He couldn't breathe!
Frantically he tried to grab at what was covering his mouth and stealing his air, but that's when he discovered the restraints on his arms. They were holding him down! Richie would have screamed, had he the capacity. He tried kicking out with his legs, but that too proved fruitless as they were restrained as well. Then suddenly he was aware of pressure sensations on his arms and legs. Hands! By now the world was beginning to fade again as Richie's struggles against the ventilator were preventing him from getting the necessary oxygen. They were suffocating him!
Richie frantically tried to locate Duncan's voice again, and at length he did. Mac was shouting something. That was a good thing. Mac was fighting… whoever they were. Richie's last thoughts before oblivion welcomed him again was that Mac would soon make everything right again.
"It was just a mild sedative," the doctor explained. "It won't keep him under long."
"What happened?" Duncan asked for the umpteenth time.
"Richie was confused," said the doctor. "He fought against the ventilator. We couldn't calm him, so we had to sedate him or else he would have asphyxiated on the tube." Duncan nodded, leaving a lingering glance on Richie's once again unconscious form. The beeping and whirring of the machines had returned to normal.
"But he woke up," said Duncan. "That's a good thing." The doctor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Yes," he agreed tentatively.
"But?"
"Look, Mr. MacLeod," said the doctor, trying to find the right words. "For all we know, that fit could have been simple confusion. It happens."
"But?" Duncan probed again, more insistently this time.
"But we don't know what state his mind is in. He'll wake up again in a few hours, but we have no way of knowing how extensive the damage will be." Duncan could just stare at the sleeping teen, the doctor's words resounding deafeningly loud in his ears.
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Richie didn't awaken before Duncan was forced out of the ICU again. This time though, he didn't offer any protests, or even any whispered reassurances to the unconscious Richie, before he left. Duncan MacLeod walked out with a nod to the attending nurse, and nothing more. Tessa had taken Duncan's old post by the glass and moved to intercept him as he left.
"I didn't see you there," said Duncan absently as he nearly ran her over.
"Of course not," she said with a smirk. "You were too busy focusing on Richie." Duncan's eyes darkened even as he nodded. "The doctors told me what happened," Tessa continued when it appeared that Duncan wasn't going to say anything.
"Where were you?" Duncan asked in return, his voice accusing.
"I figured that the only way you'd spend time with Richie was if I wasn't there," Tessa answered defiantly. After all, she was right.
"You left him alone," Duncan challenged.
"I most certainly did not!" Tessa answered vehemently. "You were right there. And besides, he is alone more often than not in this infernal place, with their pointless rules-" Duncan held up his hands then to stem the argument. He sighed in exasperation and defeat.
"I know," he retorted. Then, softer: "I know."
"Why won't they let us stay?" Tessa asked, matching his quiet tone. "How can it possibly help for him to be left alone all the time?" Duncan blinked slowly, shaking his head.
"I don't know, love."
"I just keep thinking, that, if he were to wake up alone-" Duncan silenced the rest of her sentence by taking her into his arms. She burrowed herself into his embrace and cried her frustrations for a time while Duncan just held her, offering comfort as best he could.
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Duncan and Tessa had to leave for the evening, as usual. While they were gone, Richie awoke again. Six days after admittance to the hospital, his doctors finally believed that his body had caught up with the parasite inside of him. Immunity was developing, and his fever, while still fluctuating, was only high enough to be an annoyance, rather than a threat. They were able to remove him of all tubes, save the IV, and give him a normal room instead of the ICU.
This meant that the doctors were sure that, whatever damage had been done, it wasn't enough to reduce Richie to a vegetable. However, nothing more could be said unless it was by Duncan or Tessa, for they were the best to judge if the Richie lying there now was the same one they had known.
Tessa sat in the chair by his bedside, holding his hand and speaking to him in French. Duncan, from his spot by the window, paid her words no heed. His back was to the scene, his gaze fixed on nothing on the other side of the glass.
To the untrained eye, Duncan MacLeod appeared to be lost in thought. That was only partially true. His gaze was muted because all of his other senses were on high alert, least of all the one tuned into Richie's pre-immortal buzz. Though he was not as sensory-adept as other immortals had trained themselves to be, he could still hear the minute crinkling of the hard sheets as Richie squirmed slightly in bed, waking at last. Tessa was oblivious to this, so focused we she on her narrative to preserve her own sanity while awaiting Richie's awakening that she failed to notice the event itself when it happened.
Her only warning was Duncan's unreadable expression—one that seemed to contain both sheer joy and sheer terror, as he strode purposefully from the room. Her question was cut off by a moan from the bed.
"Richie?" She asked almost fearfully, forgetting Duncan for the moment. Richie moaned again and shifted in the bed before blearily opening his eyes. The first thing he saw when his vision came into focus was Tessa staring at him expectantly, almost fearfully, from the chair beside his bed.
"Tessa?" The next thing he saw was a million-watt smile light across her face, as tears of joy escaped to trickle down her cheek.
"Oh, Richie!" Before he knew, he was hastily pulled up and enveloped in hug that threatened to crush the life from him. Tessa, of course, was simply consumed by her relief. Richie had recognized her!
"You're crying," Richie observed with a mixture of worry and curiosity when she finally pulled away. Tessa smiled, a choked sob escaping even as she nodded and wiped her tears away.
"You have no idea how happy I am," she said at length. "How relieved."
"I think I can guess," said Richie with an amused head shake. That's when he noticed that he was back in the hospital again. His memory of any previous awakenings had been stolen by drugs and fever. He let out an exaggerated sigh as he collapsed back onto the bed. "You always get like this whenever I wind up in the hospital." Tessa laughed outright this time.
Any further comments were cut off by the dramatic entrance of the doctor, who was followed closely by Duncan (thus explaining his earlier hasty retreat). The doctor came in grinning, also relieved that his patient appeared to be alert and, well, himself. Duncan stood like a shadow in the doorway, watching the proceedings with an impassive face. Of course, Tessa could see right through it, though wisely she chose not to say anything at this time.
The proceedings in question were a spot examination of Richie followed by the quick question and answer test, with the usual "where are you, who are you, what day is it" type of questions. Richie passed with flying questions, Tessa giving confirming nods for simple facts like his home address and birthday.
"Well, from here, there don't appear to be any drastic ill effects," the doctor observed. Tessa smiled with relief, but Richie just nodded. No one had told him yet of just how closely he really came to said 'ill effects'. "I need to take him for a CT scan though, just for comparative sake." Tessa nodded again, but this time Richie groaned.
"Oh, it's not that bad," Tessa admonished with a smirk. She was so happy to have the old Richie back.
"Yeah, I know. I should get frequent CT scan miles or something," he said dejectedly as a nurse brought in a wheelchair for him. Duncan tensed at the offhand comment, but said nothing.
"We'll be right here when you get back," Tessa reassured as Richie was eased into the wheelchair.
"No you won't," the nurse said dispassionately. "Visiting hours will be up before then."
"We'll be here when you get back," said Duncan, finally breaking his silence. Fortunately, Richie interpreted the unbridled steel in the highlander's voice as being directed towards the hospital staff because even the doctor paused as he was making notations on the teen's chart. Richie flashed the nurse a cocky grin, taking odd comfort in MacLeod's tone. Tessa, however, paled slightly and wisely bit her tongue. After the doctor departed and the nurse wheeled Richie away, Tessa could only stare at her lover with a shocked and confused expression.
"Duncan-"
"What?" He snapped, cutting her off quickly. Tessa bit her lip and recoiled slightly. Duncan sighed heavily. "I'm sorry."
"What has gotten into you lately?" Duncan sighed again, softer this time, and made his way to the bed and sat down, bringing them to eye level.
"I'm glad Richie's ok," he said at last.
"You sound it," Tessa answered sarcastically. Duncan opened his mouth to retort, but instead sighed for the third time. For the life of him, he couldn't find the words to express what he was feeling. He was worried for Richie, relieved for Richie, slightly put out by Tessa's easy rapport with the teen, and scared to death of the lingering effects of what has transpired between them on their relationship, such as it as. And now Duncan no longer had the luxury of time.
"I need to talk to him," he said at length, mostly to himself. "Tessa nodded in agreement. "I'm not sure I want to do that in the hospital."
"I can see where your talking about his stabbing you could lead to problems in a hospital," Tessa responded, her voice neutral. Duncan raised an eyebrow and that's when her concentration broke and a slight laugh escaped her lips.
"But I don't want him to think I'm avoiding him, either."
"Well, you can still talk to him Duncan," said Tessa. "There's no law that says you must talk about that." This time it was Duncan to laugh.
"And what are we supposed to talk about instead? The weather?"
"Anything!" Tessa responded, feeling the entire inappropriateness of the humor but not caring in that moment. "Just… not that."
"Oh, I can just picture it," Duncan continued sarcastically. "Hi Richie. There's this thing, you know. That thing that were not talking about right now. I promise we'll talk about it later, in private. You understand of course. So… how bout them Seahawks?" By the end Tessa was laughing even harder than before.
"It's not right that I'm laughing," she observed.
"So stop laughing," Duncan directed, the command undermined by his own smile.
"Well shame on you for making me laugh," she countered, forcing seriousness to return. To her surprise Duncan said nothing.
"When was the last time Richie laughed?" He asked at length. "And I don't mean sarcastically." The qualifier gave Tessa pause, and she realized that she couldn't answer her lover's question.
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Richie was wheeled back into the room after barely a half an hour. Duncan and Tessa were waiting patiently for him and ignored the scowls of the nurse. Visiting hours ended nearly twenty minutes ago.
Tessa aided the nurse in easing Richie back into the bed (amidst protests that he could do it himself) while Duncan simply watched, his face once again impassive.
"So did they tell you guys when I get to go home?" Richie asked hopefully as soon as the nurse had departed. Duncan realized that they had only a few minutes left before security showed up to escort he and Tessa out of the hospital.
"I think that depends on the results of your CT scan," he observed, and Richie groaned.
"I really hate hospitals," he said sullenly.
"Gee," said Tessa. "We hadn't noticed." Richie gave her a slight mocking laugh.
"Do you think they'll let me get something to eat?" He asked next, once again hopefully.
"You're hungry?" Tessa asked in surprise. Duncan silently thanked God for that small fact.
"Of course I'm hungry," Richie enthused. "I missed dinner!"
"I'd say you've missed a fair share of dinners," Duncan observed dryly. Tessa would have shot him a glare if only it wouldn't have raised difficult questions.
"So like I said, do you think they'll feed me?" Richie reiterated.
"They might," Tessa answered. "If you ask nicely."
"Who, me?" Richie asked, flashing his most winning smile and adopting his most innocent look. Tessa just laughed at him as he batted his eyes for effect. Then suddenly Richie sobered. "How's my bike?"
"Your bike?" Duncan questioned in return.
"Well, yeah," Richie answered, suddenly unsure. "It's not banged up too badly, is it?"
"Why would it be?" Duncan asked.
"Did you crash it?" Tessa chimed in immediately, suddenly fearful. Richie's slightly lost expression met Tessa's anxious one, but in the background it was Duncan who was the most fearful. Richie remained silent for many moments.
"If I crashed my bike and wound up in the hospital, you guys would know," he concluded logically, though his voice was unsure. Duncan brought a hand to his eyes and collected his thoughts briefly.
"Richie, what's the last thing you remember?" He asked carefully. The teen took time to seriously consider this question.
"A grave," he answered definitively at last. "At least, I think so."
"What about before that?" Tessa asked. Once again Richie took his time.
"I was at Mrs. Burke's. She told me about Angie, and Larry, and James n' Kyle."
"Then what?" Duncan prompted, barely keeping his anxiety from his voice.
"Then… nothing," Richie finished finally. "A grave." Duncan gripped the doorframe with one strong hand, feeling his knees practically give way at the weight of this new information. However, before he was able to speak, Tessa beat him to it.
"You went to Emily Ryan's grave after seeing Mrs. Burke," she said definitively. "Mrs. Burke called me and told me to look for you there because she was worried about how sick you were, and that's where I found you." Duncan stared agape at Tessa, but neither she nor Richie noticed.
"Then how'd I get here?" Richie asked.
"I had the groundskeeper call an ambulance," Tessa confessed, her self-assurance in her earlier fib erased by memory.
"Oh," said Richie demurely, staring down at his bedcovers. "So I guess my bike's all right then?"
"The bike's fine," Duncan answered, finally regaining his voice. He was still so taken aback that his voice held that quality to it. Tessa finally chanced a glance in his direction, her eyes feigning certainty outside of Richie's line of site. That's when the security personnel appeared outside the door.