See Chapter 1 for disclaimers and notes.
"Mr. Strummer? Come on, Mr. Strummer, open your eyes." It was more the incessant patting on his hand than the woman's voice that brought him around. It was irritating, really. He opened his eyes and nearly yelped in her face. She was too close. He heard someone giving orders in the background. There were lots of letters strung together and the words "tests" and "scans" behind them.
"Doctor, he's awake." She smiled as she moved back.
Another face came into view. "Good! Okay, Mr. Strummer, glad you could join us. How are you feeling?" The tall man pulled out a penlight, and Van was suddenly blinded. He tried to turn away, but there was a firm grip on his head. The light went off; and through the flashing multi-colored dots that annoyingly swam around his vision, he thought he saw the doctor smile at him.
He swallowed hard and managed just one word. "Poisoned."
The smile disappeared. "Oh, okay. Shirley, let's get that blood drawn pronto. Do you know what you were poisoned with, Mr. Strummer?"
"No. What happened?"
"You tell me. You passed out. When were you poisoned?"
"An hour or so, maybe more. How long was I out?"
"Not long."
"He said I had twelve hours. Is it affecting me faster than that?"
"He? Was this intentional then?" At Van's nod, he continued. "Pat, call the police."
"Already coming," Van told him as the nurse on his other side prepared to draw his blood. She nodded in acknowledgement.
"Okay then. Twelve hours? Well, no, I don't think the poison caused this. Your oxygen saturation levels look good right now, but your blood pressure is up. Any nausea or cramping? Any tingling or numbness?" Van shook his head. "How were you feeling when you came in?"
"Couldn't breathe, head tingling, hands, too."
"But now you're breathing normally. You'd just found out you were poisoned, so I'm betting you were pretty panicked. I'm thinking panic attack. Ever have one before?"
"When I was a kid, but not since then. Now that you mention it, that's what it felt like though. Look, when my friends get here, don't say anything about this, okay? I'm feeling pretty silly now. I do not need them finding out I freaked out and fainted."
"Sure. There's no reason to feel silly. You have every right to be freaked out, but as long as you don't do it again, I think I can handle one little secret. In the meantime, let's see if we can figure out what we're dealing with. It's going to be a chore. We may or may not be able to identify it, you understand. If we can't, we're going to be in trouble. I'll be back in a few minutes to check your blood pressure again, just in case the elevation is due to the panic attack. If it doesn't go down, we're going to need to admit you."
Van frowned. He had maybe eleven hours and a precious few minutes to live, and he had no intention of spending them in a hospital bed. He said nothing though. He'd argue that point if it came to it. At the moment, he had to get himself together. Billie and Deaq were coming, and he would meet them sitting up tall and together. No way would he let them see him flat on his back.
When Van didn't answer him, the doctor went on, "I'm Dr. Grant, by the way. Just try to relax. I want you to be still and quiet for a while."
Van would have laughed in his face, except that Grant made a pretty quick exit then, leaving Van contemplating the word that he just could not seem to escape lately. Relax. And still and quiet? Deaq would have laughed in the good doctor's face had he been there for that one.
Van sat up and scooted down to the end of the gurney letting his feet dangle. Regardless of what Deaq thought, he could do still and quiet. He did yoga, after all. Of course, that revelation had further convinced Deaq that he was weird. Even finding out that Aquarius did yoga too did nothing to dissuade him from that perception. Anyway, Van took a deep breath and released it slowly, concentrating on also releasing the tension in his body as he did. Breath after breath, he continued until he was just on the edge of a light meditative state. But just as quickly as he'd gotten there, a sudden eerie feeling of something eating him up from the inside out yanked him back to stark reality. His eyes flew open, and he struggled to take his next breath. Okay, so much for relaxing. Yet again, the ability, even the comprehension of the word, was beyond him. He scrubbed his hands through his hair then over his face. He could not fall apart. He would not fall apart.
Deaq paced in front of the ER desk. "Okay, I know I don't have a badge, but I am a cop. I just forgot it at home," he insisted as the old Saturday Night Live tag line ran through his head... "Yeah, that's the ticket!" It nearly slipped out of his mouth. There were times when Billie's "no badges" rule caused problems, and this was one of them. The dutiful nurse would neither give him any information about Van, nor let him go back to see his partner.
She gave him a skeptical look. "Sir, you have no uniform and no badge. You are obviously not related to Mr. Strummer. I have my orders. Only an immediate relative or the police will see Mr. Strummer. That's it, and that's all. So if you could have a seat and wait until the police, the REAL police, the kind with badges, arrive, you can talk to them about seeing our patient."
"Look, if you'll just go ask him, he'll tell you I'm his partner! WE are cops! And he'll want to see me."
"The doctor is in with Mr. Strummer."
"And that means you can't talk to him? Come on, lady." He paused, waiting for a response. He didn't get one. "Fine! But you're going to feel really silly very soon." Deaq stalked into the waiting room and tossed himself into a chair. "Oh, good comeback, Deaqon. 'You're obviously not related to Mr. Strummer,'" he mocked the woman. He frowned as he assessed the situation. If it had been an accident or an illness, there would'nt be the same kind of restrictions on Van's visitors. So a crime had been committed. Van was a victim. And because of Billie locking up their badges in the vault at the Candy Store, Deaq couldn't even get to him.
If Billie didn't get there soon, he was going to go insane. He had hung up on Van. Van needed him, and he'd hung up for an evening with a woman who called him Deaqie. What was wrong with this picture? Once again, his father's lecture came back to him with the force of a good uppercut. He wasn't a very good partner. He certainly wasn't a very good friend. And Dre would have been very disappointed. Actually, wherever he was, he probably was disappointed.
"Okay, your blood pressure is still quite high. I'm going to call the lab and see if they've found anything. In the meantime, why don't you let Pat get you a gown and just lie back? I'll let you know something as soon as I can."
Van watched the man disappear from the room. No way in hell was he putting on any stupid hospital gown. Not voluntarily anyway. He was not staying.
Man, he had a headache. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to lie down for a minute. He leaned back, placing his elbows on the gurney then eased himself down. He needed to get a handle on things. Billie and Deaq were coming. Any minute now, in fact, they might be walking in the door. It was time to put a lock down on his fear and his emotions. He needed to put his game face on.
Well, not all his emotions needed to be locked away. He reached down for the anger than often sustained him during a tough case. This time, he focused on the bastard who had done this to him. If he gave into his fear, he'd probably not be there to see the son of a bitch go down. No, he would be there. To be the one who took the bastard down, Van had to be strong. He had to work it like any other case. He was a cop, not a victim. This guy would not make him a victim.
Though the headache was certainly no better, Van sat back up. He was ready. He just wished he knew what he was ready for. At the very least, though, he was ready for Billie and Deaq to get there.
"Have you seen him?" Billie all but shouted as she ran over to where Deaq was sitting.
"No, I haven't. 'Brunhilda' over there decided that I was neither a cop or Van's long lost brother and therefore would not let me in." Deaq let every bit of his irritation imbue his words. "I could really use a badge in times like these."
"Whatever. Let's just get back there now."
She flashed her badge to "Brunhilda" who gave them perfect directions to Van. He glared at her in aggravation as he passed her. She just rolled her eyes at him and turned her attention back to the clipboard she held. He wanted to say "I told you so," but somehow, that seemed as lame as his stellar comeback earlier. Apparently, he wasn't at the top of his game, so he kept his mouth shut and followed Billie through the maze of people and hallways to find his partner.
His heart gave a little start at the thought of facing Van. He'd hung up on the man while he was trying to tell Deaq he was in trouble. He realized then that he still didn't know what kind of trouble. "Billie, so what's going on?"
"He might have been poisoned. That's all I know. I told him to hold off on details until we got here."
"Poisoned? Why? By who?"
"Didn't I just say that was all I knew? Maybe if you had listened to him earlier you would know more. But, no, you hung up on him." She was pissed. That much Deaq knew, but he wasn't feeling too calm, cool, and collected himself. He was no fool. He knew she hadn't been the picture of grace when she'd heard Van's voice on the phone either.
"And you could have asked some questions, too, you know?"
"I was too focused on getting here, Deaq!" She stopped and whirled on him. "Whereas you were what? Getting laid?"
"Not yet, but yeah, that was the idea! Excuse the hell outta me for trying to have a life!"
"While your partner may be dying!"
"Oh, like you were all sweetness and light when you picked up the phone?! Please! How long did you yell at him before you let him get a word in edgewise?!"
"Shut up!"
They both turned to face a very irate Van standing in the doorway of the exam room. He turned and disappeared into the room again, leaving them to sheepishly follow.
"Van—" Billie started, but he cut her off.
"I can't take this shit right now, okay? So just shut up. Man, I wish I hadn't even called either of you right now. I know I'm a pain in both your asses, but you don't have to let the whole hospital know just how much my possible impending death is putting you out, okay?" Deaq winced at the defeat in Van's voice.
"V, it's not like—"
"Whatever. Look, I just want to tell you what happened and start trying to figure out how to save my miserable life, such as it is. Okay?"
"Okay."
A few minutes later, Deaq was torn between guilt, anger, and frustration. If Van's story wasn't bad enough, the doctor's arrival with the news that there was definitely a toxin in Van's blood added a cold lump of fear to the burning knot of seething emotions already in his gut. It was official; Van had been poisoned. According to the doctor, he was sick already. It took Billie being her usual bossy self to get Van to agree to stay at the hospital and let them help him. So, it was up to him and Billie to save Van's life. Damn, he didn't want that kind of responsibility. If they failed, if he failed, Van would die. He followed Billie out of the exam room and through the ER, only realizing when he got into his car that he had never apologized to Van for hanging up on him. Soon, he thought. Hell, it would have to be soon. Van might not have enough time left for later.
He'd been so sure when he'd left the hospital. She'd needed his help, huh? He'd really worked himself up into ferociously righteous anger as he'd driven to confront Hillary. Now though, after manhandling her, after the call, as she walked away from him, Van realized a few things. First, this guy was watching him pretty closely. Second, Hillary was too obvious and too easy. His involvement with her had simply given the guy the opportunity he'd needed. Third, he'd just really ruined any chance he ever had to convince this woman that he wasn't a crazed criminal. And fourth, fuck, his head really hurt. He found himself sliding down the wall. He closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to will the pounding in his skull to stop. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had to get up. Security was coming. Bracing himself on the wall, he rose slowly. The room and stairwell around him spun crazily, spinning into and out of focus. He was standing, though. He was nauseated and in pain, but on his feet just the same. He retrieved his keys from his pocket and took a tentative step. As the floor seemed to move under him, he had to stop. "Get it together, Van," he muttered to himself.
Movement off to his left caught his attention. Two burly security guards were coming for him. He held up one hand, the other remaining on the wall, as he didn't feel too steady. "I'm going, okay? I'm going." They stopped and Van was thankful, though he couldn't actually manage to say the words at that point. He just nodded slightly, as much as he could without his head trying to explode, and made his way out, moving past them slowly still holding on to whatever was handy.
When he got to the car, he ended up letting the seat back and lying there for a little while. He wasn't sure how much time passed before he could see straight and function again. He looked at the clock in the dash of the car. Twelve hours. Yeah, right. He began to wonder if he'd last that long. Well, technically, he had a little less than ten hours now. Still, at the rate he seemed to be going, he'd never make those ten hours. Jesus, why did his head have to hurt so badly? He was exhausted, too. He felt like he'd been trying to run a marathon.
Well, if this was as good as it was going to get, he'd better get his ass moving. He let the seat up and fought the wave of dizziness that resulted. He guessed he needed to head to the Candy Store. By now, Deaq and Billie might have already found out that he'd skipped out on the hospital. He could only hope that he could forestall the yelling and screaming until after he'd explained, and maybe even until his head quit hurting. Maybe even until after he was dead. Then he wouldn't have to hear it at all.
"Mr. Strummer? Come on, Mr. Strummer, open your eyes." It was more the incessant patting on his hand than the woman's voice that brought him around. It was irritating, really. He opened his eyes and nearly yelped in her face. She was too close. He heard someone giving orders in the background. There were lots of letters strung together and the words "tests" and "scans" behind them.
"Doctor, he's awake." She smiled as she moved back.
Another face came into view. "Good! Okay, Mr. Strummer, glad you could join us. How are you feeling?" The tall man pulled out a penlight, and Van was suddenly blinded. He tried to turn away, but there was a firm grip on his head. The light went off; and through the flashing multi-colored dots that annoyingly swam around his vision, he thought he saw the doctor smile at him.
He swallowed hard and managed just one word. "Poisoned."
The smile disappeared. "Oh, okay. Shirley, let's get that blood drawn pronto. Do you know what you were poisoned with, Mr. Strummer?"
"No. What happened?"
"You tell me. You passed out. When were you poisoned?"
"An hour or so, maybe more. How long was I out?"
"Not long."
"He said I had twelve hours. Is it affecting me faster than that?"
"He? Was this intentional then?" At Van's nod, he continued. "Pat, call the police."
"Already coming," Van told him as the nurse on his other side prepared to draw his blood. She nodded in acknowledgement.
"Okay then. Twelve hours? Well, no, I don't think the poison caused this. Your oxygen saturation levels look good right now, but your blood pressure is up. Any nausea or cramping? Any tingling or numbness?" Van shook his head. "How were you feeling when you came in?"
"Couldn't breathe, head tingling, hands, too."
"But now you're breathing normally. You'd just found out you were poisoned, so I'm betting you were pretty panicked. I'm thinking panic attack. Ever have one before?"
"When I was a kid, but not since then. Now that you mention it, that's what it felt like though. Look, when my friends get here, don't say anything about this, okay? I'm feeling pretty silly now. I do not need them finding out I freaked out and fainted."
"Sure. There's no reason to feel silly. You have every right to be freaked out, but as long as you don't do it again, I think I can handle one little secret. In the meantime, let's see if we can figure out what we're dealing with. It's going to be a chore. We may or may not be able to identify it, you understand. If we can't, we're going to be in trouble. I'll be back in a few minutes to check your blood pressure again, just in case the elevation is due to the panic attack. If it doesn't go down, we're going to need to admit you."
Van frowned. He had maybe eleven hours and a precious few minutes to live, and he had no intention of spending them in a hospital bed. He said nothing though. He'd argue that point if it came to it. At the moment, he had to get himself together. Billie and Deaq were coming, and he would meet them sitting up tall and together. No way would he let them see him flat on his back.
When Van didn't answer him, the doctor went on, "I'm Dr. Grant, by the way. Just try to relax. I want you to be still and quiet for a while."
Van would have laughed in his face, except that Grant made a pretty quick exit then, leaving Van contemplating the word that he just could not seem to escape lately. Relax. And still and quiet? Deaq would have laughed in the good doctor's face had he been there for that one.
Van sat up and scooted down to the end of the gurney letting his feet dangle. Regardless of what Deaq thought, he could do still and quiet. He did yoga, after all. Of course, that revelation had further convinced Deaq that he was weird. Even finding out that Aquarius did yoga too did nothing to dissuade him from that perception. Anyway, Van took a deep breath and released it slowly, concentrating on also releasing the tension in his body as he did. Breath after breath, he continued until he was just on the edge of a light meditative state. But just as quickly as he'd gotten there, a sudden eerie feeling of something eating him up from the inside out yanked him back to stark reality. His eyes flew open, and he struggled to take his next breath. Okay, so much for relaxing. Yet again, the ability, even the comprehension of the word, was beyond him. He scrubbed his hands through his hair then over his face. He could not fall apart. He would not fall apart.
Deaq paced in front of the ER desk. "Okay, I know I don't have a badge, but I am a cop. I just forgot it at home," he insisted as the old Saturday Night Live tag line ran through his head... "Yeah, that's the ticket!" It nearly slipped out of his mouth. There were times when Billie's "no badges" rule caused problems, and this was one of them. The dutiful nurse would neither give him any information about Van, nor let him go back to see his partner.
She gave him a skeptical look. "Sir, you have no uniform and no badge. You are obviously not related to Mr. Strummer. I have my orders. Only an immediate relative or the police will see Mr. Strummer. That's it, and that's all. So if you could have a seat and wait until the police, the REAL police, the kind with badges, arrive, you can talk to them about seeing our patient."
"Look, if you'll just go ask him, he'll tell you I'm his partner! WE are cops! And he'll want to see me."
"The doctor is in with Mr. Strummer."
"And that means you can't talk to him? Come on, lady." He paused, waiting for a response. He didn't get one. "Fine! But you're going to feel really silly very soon." Deaq stalked into the waiting room and tossed himself into a chair. "Oh, good comeback, Deaqon. 'You're obviously not related to Mr. Strummer,'" he mocked the woman. He frowned as he assessed the situation. If it had been an accident or an illness, there would'nt be the same kind of restrictions on Van's visitors. So a crime had been committed. Van was a victim. And because of Billie locking up their badges in the vault at the Candy Store, Deaq couldn't even get to him.
If Billie didn't get there soon, he was going to go insane. He had hung up on Van. Van needed him, and he'd hung up for an evening with a woman who called him Deaqie. What was wrong with this picture? Once again, his father's lecture came back to him with the force of a good uppercut. He wasn't a very good partner. He certainly wasn't a very good friend. And Dre would have been very disappointed. Actually, wherever he was, he probably was disappointed.
"Okay, your blood pressure is still quite high. I'm going to call the lab and see if they've found anything. In the meantime, why don't you let Pat get you a gown and just lie back? I'll let you know something as soon as I can."
Van watched the man disappear from the room. No way in hell was he putting on any stupid hospital gown. Not voluntarily anyway. He was not staying.
Man, he had a headache. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to lie down for a minute. He leaned back, placing his elbows on the gurney then eased himself down. He needed to get a handle on things. Billie and Deaq were coming. Any minute now, in fact, they might be walking in the door. It was time to put a lock down on his fear and his emotions. He needed to put his game face on.
Well, not all his emotions needed to be locked away. He reached down for the anger than often sustained him during a tough case. This time, he focused on the bastard who had done this to him. If he gave into his fear, he'd probably not be there to see the son of a bitch go down. No, he would be there. To be the one who took the bastard down, Van had to be strong. He had to work it like any other case. He was a cop, not a victim. This guy would not make him a victim.
Though the headache was certainly no better, Van sat back up. He was ready. He just wished he knew what he was ready for. At the very least, though, he was ready for Billie and Deaq to get there.
"Have you seen him?" Billie all but shouted as she ran over to where Deaq was sitting.
"No, I haven't. 'Brunhilda' over there decided that I was neither a cop or Van's long lost brother and therefore would not let me in." Deaq let every bit of his irritation imbue his words. "I could really use a badge in times like these."
"Whatever. Let's just get back there now."
She flashed her badge to "Brunhilda" who gave them perfect directions to Van. He glared at her in aggravation as he passed her. She just rolled her eyes at him and turned her attention back to the clipboard she held. He wanted to say "I told you so," but somehow, that seemed as lame as his stellar comeback earlier. Apparently, he wasn't at the top of his game, so he kept his mouth shut and followed Billie through the maze of people and hallways to find his partner.
His heart gave a little start at the thought of facing Van. He'd hung up on the man while he was trying to tell Deaq he was in trouble. He realized then that he still didn't know what kind of trouble. "Billie, so what's going on?"
"He might have been poisoned. That's all I know. I told him to hold off on details until we got here."
"Poisoned? Why? By who?"
"Didn't I just say that was all I knew? Maybe if you had listened to him earlier you would know more. But, no, you hung up on him." She was pissed. That much Deaq knew, but he wasn't feeling too calm, cool, and collected himself. He was no fool. He knew she hadn't been the picture of grace when she'd heard Van's voice on the phone either.
"And you could have asked some questions, too, you know?"
"I was too focused on getting here, Deaq!" She stopped and whirled on him. "Whereas you were what? Getting laid?"
"Not yet, but yeah, that was the idea! Excuse the hell outta me for trying to have a life!"
"While your partner may be dying!"
"Oh, like you were all sweetness and light when you picked up the phone?! Please! How long did you yell at him before you let him get a word in edgewise?!"
"Shut up!"
They both turned to face a very irate Van standing in the doorway of the exam room. He turned and disappeared into the room again, leaving them to sheepishly follow.
"Van—" Billie started, but he cut her off.
"I can't take this shit right now, okay? So just shut up. Man, I wish I hadn't even called either of you right now. I know I'm a pain in both your asses, but you don't have to let the whole hospital know just how much my possible impending death is putting you out, okay?" Deaq winced at the defeat in Van's voice.
"V, it's not like—"
"Whatever. Look, I just want to tell you what happened and start trying to figure out how to save my miserable life, such as it is. Okay?"
"Okay."
A few minutes later, Deaq was torn between guilt, anger, and frustration. If Van's story wasn't bad enough, the doctor's arrival with the news that there was definitely a toxin in Van's blood added a cold lump of fear to the burning knot of seething emotions already in his gut. It was official; Van had been poisoned. According to the doctor, he was sick already. It took Billie being her usual bossy self to get Van to agree to stay at the hospital and let them help him. So, it was up to him and Billie to save Van's life. Damn, he didn't want that kind of responsibility. If they failed, if he failed, Van would die. He followed Billie out of the exam room and through the ER, only realizing when he got into his car that he had never apologized to Van for hanging up on him. Soon, he thought. Hell, it would have to be soon. Van might not have enough time left for later.
He'd been so sure when he'd left the hospital. She'd needed his help, huh? He'd really worked himself up into ferociously righteous anger as he'd driven to confront Hillary. Now though, after manhandling her, after the call, as she walked away from him, Van realized a few things. First, this guy was watching him pretty closely. Second, Hillary was too obvious and too easy. His involvement with her had simply given the guy the opportunity he'd needed. Third, he'd just really ruined any chance he ever had to convince this woman that he wasn't a crazed criminal. And fourth, fuck, his head really hurt. He found himself sliding down the wall. He closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to will the pounding in his skull to stop. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had to get up. Security was coming. Bracing himself on the wall, he rose slowly. The room and stairwell around him spun crazily, spinning into and out of focus. He was standing, though. He was nauseated and in pain, but on his feet just the same. He retrieved his keys from his pocket and took a tentative step. As the floor seemed to move under him, he had to stop. "Get it together, Van," he muttered to himself.
Movement off to his left caught his attention. Two burly security guards were coming for him. He held up one hand, the other remaining on the wall, as he didn't feel too steady. "I'm going, okay? I'm going." They stopped and Van was thankful, though he couldn't actually manage to say the words at that point. He just nodded slightly, as much as he could without his head trying to explode, and made his way out, moving past them slowly still holding on to whatever was handy.
When he got to the car, he ended up letting the seat back and lying there for a little while. He wasn't sure how much time passed before he could see straight and function again. He looked at the clock in the dash of the car. Twelve hours. Yeah, right. He began to wonder if he'd last that long. Well, technically, he had a little less than ten hours now. Still, at the rate he seemed to be going, he'd never make those ten hours. Jesus, why did his head have to hurt so badly? He was exhausted, too. He felt like he'd been trying to run a marathon.
Well, if this was as good as it was going to get, he'd better get his ass moving. He let the seat up and fought the wave of dizziness that resulted. He guessed he needed to head to the Candy Store. By now, Deaq and Billie might have already found out that he'd skipped out on the hospital. He could only hope that he could forestall the yelling and screaming until after he'd explained, and maybe even until his head quit hurting. Maybe even until after he was dead. Then he wouldn't have to hear it at all.