DISCLAIMER: Characters and universe not mine; no profits made.
YOUR READING AND RESPONSES are always appreciated. For now, however, what I could really use is a note excusing me from being on time with my Christmas gifts this year! Instead of braving the crowds, shopping for loved ones, I've been fighting the Power, and trying to get Eyes Only back in business. Try to guess which is more fun--
METRO MEDICAL: THREE EAST: Patient Room #4, Rehab Unit:
Bling peered into Logan's room, finding it empty, his one bag packed and waiting. The room wasn't noticeably different with his things removed–Cale had never brought any of the little "homey" touches others often did for their extended stays. At least this wasn't the typical scene he had with clients leaving; this time he was going with his client, and would be continuing therapy as well as a whole lot more.
Still...this definitely represented one chapter ending in Cale's life, with a brand new book opening before him. It was often an emotional exit for both therapist and client, although Bling usually didn't let his charges see how deeply moved he could be by the strength and effort he saw in each of his patients, Cale certainly not the least among them.
But he did wish he'd broached this sooner...
As he stepped back into the hall, he saw Logan coming toward him from the unit office, his hospital file on his lap, and stepped aside from the doorway. "Hey." He watched Logan move into his room, and came behind, noting that Cale looked a bit drawn, a sign he had learned could spell his weariness, or tension, or pain. Logan smiled up to him, unwilling to acknowledge whatever it was that Bling saw –but the smile didn't reach his eyes...
"Hey" Logan crossed the room to reach over to a slim folio on the desk and drop it in his lap, on top of the file.
"You off to see Sam?"
"Yeah, but they said he's running late–some emergency surgery this morning set all his appointments back." He looked up toward Bling, working to stay positive about the day. "You've got your last client now?"
"Last one other than you?" Bling smiled wryly. At Logan's silent smirk, he chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, in a few minutes." He watched the man, weighing his mood so close to leaving the place where he had struggled to get his life back–and where he had struggled with life in the protective environment of therapists and medical care professionals. "Other than seeing Sam–you packed and ready to go?"
Logan shrugged, noncommittal. "Yeah, I guess." He looked around the room...not seeing it...and not looking at Bling.
"How d'you feel about leaving?" Bling wondered if this was the best time to bring up more awkward matters–but they were running out of time. He waited for Cale's answer.
At the question, Logan looked up to the therapist's dark eyes, then looked away again to shrug, veneer fairly strong for the moment. "Good. I was wondering if I'd ever escape."
Bling smiled softly, and nodded, coming around to sit on the edge of the bed, more at Cale's eye level. "You know, we've pretty much done the whole package here, at least gotten a start on nearly everything, even got you some extracurricular work, what with the basketball" Bling began. "Just one thing, though..." This would have been easier before, when he was still telling Cale what to do and how to move. But now Logan was even taking the lead, Bling helping not only set up his place to accommodate life in the chair, but assisting in EO's pursuit of those officials masterminding a series of government sanctioned murders, nearly ready for broadcast even before Cale's release. Bling drew a steadying breath, knowing this was a necessary step, to continue, "By now, most of my clients– especially the males--either ask for-- or just get-- The Talk" Bling began carefully. "You expect me to believe you haven't given it some thought?"
"Do I look like I'm heading to the Prom any time soon, Dad?" Logan's response was sarcastic, closing himself off from the intensely personal topic. "Besides," he muttered, "I never got 'The Talk' from my father–or my uncle." He imitated Bling's vocal take on the words, exaggerating them in his sarcasm. "Why ruin my track record?"
"You're joking..."
"No." Logan's eyebrows lifted as his defenses shifted a little, thoughts of his family changing his focus, wanting to focus on something else as long as he could, so much so that he found himself admitting, to this man who had done so much for him, "The Cales don't do the talk..." He wavered, then went on, "they hire others to do it for them." He snorted in a sad, rueful sound, remembering his uncle's vulgar efforts. "I...suspect my father would have just let things pass without comment. On the other hand, Jonas..." Logan shook his head. "A male Cale's sixteenth birthday was the entry to manhood, according to my Uncle Jonas. He felt a rite of passage was needed, so, he...ordered in a certain ...birthday present."
Bling's eyes narrowed as he looked, long. "Not...?"
Logan nodded, remembering his acute humiliation, sending the dazzling call girl back home in a cab with a decent tip three minutes after she arrived...and two minutes after his date had left in tears of her own embarrassment. It was one of the defining moments of his life, giving form to the lessons he'd learned from his distant but honorable father, his gracious and sensitive mother: being boorish was one thing, using one's wealth to be grandly boorish was humiliating. And not being able to understand what made it humiliating was ... Jonas. "Four boys...to this day I don't know if any of us...went along with things. I know for sure three of us didn't. My oldest cousin..." Logan shrugged. "He might have given it a go."
"Damn." Bling let the man talk, to exorcize his demons as he needed, even if he was doing so indirectly. He had a big hurdle immediately ahead and could use a break... "That's some Talk."
Logan nodded, eyebrows quirking in his irony. He looked over at Bling, not ready to hear what the man had to say on the topic, but certainly wanting to know. Of course he'd done some on line research, but the words meant little at this point. He trusted Bling to be straight with him–just not now, not yet... but he kept the door open, a little. "You get The Talk?"
"Me? Oh, yeah..." Bling chuckled, "With my father, The Talk became the Treatise–you get The Talk from an archeology professor, you not only get the Birds and the Bees, but the Artifacts, the Indigenous Cultures, the Social Structures and Ancient Runes and Tribal Customs..." He smiled in response as Logan relaxed into an appreciative chuckle, and was quiet for a moment, watching his charge. He finally offered, "Logan, it will be different now...but not out of the picture. There are lots of possibilities, and in this more than about anything, everyone is different..." He saw gratitude in Cale's eyes but a slight withdrawal too, as if the topic was still too painful...and as if he still was not able to believe life could include such things for him anymore. "Whenever you want to talk about it you know I'm around. But, just...don't write things off yet, alright? Too much is still out there for you to think that your sex life is over..."
The veil dropped at the three letter magic word; Bling expected it, so had saved it for the end... He stood, and said, "I'd better go. I'll be done in an hour–just meet back here?"
"Yeah, and I need to get over to Sam." Logan followed Bling out into the hall. " I should be back before you are. Look--" Cale stopped, and shrugged, "there's no reason we have to drive over at the same time; you'll need your car, so I'll just load up & go over, when I'm done..."
"You're sure?"
"Sure–no time like the present to see if I'm actually ready to be sprung."
"Okay, man–I'll see you there." They went in different directions, Bling stealing a glance at the man's resolute shoves toward the elevator. He hoped that sometime soon Logan could start feeling inside as tough as he was now trying to appear to the world...
METRO MEDICAL: Overhead
So this was his last day.
A fitting end to her hovering, Max needled herself gently, as, with practiced ease, she came across the hospital roof from the next building, crossed to the maintenance door, and made her way in though the access ways built in for ease of maintaining the hospital's standard and emergency systems – and allowing her ease in coming into the crawlspaces overlooking Cale's room and the adjoining hall. No one was around at the moment, but she'd heard the ward clerk saying he was in his doctor's office and his release status was just updated on the system. It wouldn't be long and he'd be out of the hospital and into his own, fancy home, away from these handy hiding spaces. Sounded about right, she decided–he'd be home and off her mind, he'd have his life back, so she could have hers.
Perfect.
In only a handful of minutes, her objective wheeled into view, crossed to the large duffle on the bed, and hefted it into his lap. He turned to move toward the door, and Max thought her stay was ended. But as he slowed, she watched, still not able to see his face clearly yet. At a bit greater risk of being discovered, but curiosity compelling her, she shifted forward a little, flattening out, to see better. As she did, his features were clear to her view...
She saw him turn back to look around the room, one more time. At first, she assumed he was only looking once again to be sure he hadn't missed anything. But she could tell, from her vantage point, that at the moment he wasn't seeing anything in the room, but his own, unspoken thoughts–which were, what? New plots to unravel? New corrupt officials to take down? Whatever it was, she thought with some grudging admiration, he'd made it, made his way back even after half of him had been killed. No matter his motives, she conceded, you had to give him that. Feeling some closure herself, to see him moving ahead and strong, she shifted back, turning to withdraw...
And almost made it. But she heard a sound that held her...
She silently twisted back to look into the room, where the solitary figure had moved across to the dresser, his eye having caught the small form he'd almost overlooked, thinking it had been packed...and Max knew the sound that had drawn her was a momentary sound of pain from him, an involuntary cry escaping the newly built facade...Logan sat bent over the small bear in his hand, his breath, shallow and forced into an even pattern, as he blinked rapidly...
The man fought to even his breath, squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth as though through sheer will he would make the pain go away...at first Max assumed it was a physical pain, the kind she'd read could occur with an injury such as his. But as she watched the handsome face work to focus, she could see--it wasn't physical. It was heartbreak, and hopelessness and fear and all the loneliness he'd ever faced, all confronting him at that moment, when he was absolutely, desperately alone. Max stared silently, drawn to his grief in a powerful compassion, at a loss to know how to make his pain go away. If Eyes Only was the hope of the downtrodden...who was there to rescue him?
And long after the man had willed away the demons to a small corner of his soul...long after he had drawn a shaky sigh, put on a brave face and had turned to leave the room and say good-bye to the staff...Max sat hidden in the darkened crawl way above the room, touched by a spirit and soul far more complex and compelling than she had ever known....
FOGLE TOWERS:
"This is new, too." Bling walked into the hall to show Logan a monitor panel, more at his eye level from the chair than Bling's on foot. "These perimeter readings can tell you if there's a breach–you have identical monitors in the other rooms, plus a read out on your computer, if you want to call it up. It will raise either an auditory or visual alarm if there's someone on your floor or outside, anywhere –the door, windows...roof..."
Logan glanced up, a slightly guarded look. "Just an alarm, no booby traps or anything?"
"No, no traps, unless you want to set some..." Bling raised an eyebrow.
"No...no need for that-- as far as I know." Logan considered. "The roof, before... the skylight had never been, well, locked, exactly; who'd think that there needed to be a locked skylight on a thirty six floor building?" Logan tried to laugh, but his forced casualness wasn't working. "I don't know that Peter ever had it sealed, as he'd talked about doing..."
"No, it's as it was originally built...if you want it sealed..."
"No--" Logan answered too quickly. "I mean...there's no need. You have the intruder array..."
"...And that system alerts security, downstairs, for any signal raised from anywhere other than the front door."
Logan blinked, concerned; Bling, looking for that very reaction, saw the confirmation of his suspicions. He waited, hoping he hid his amusement. " You mean...for example...if someone tried to come in, say... through the skylight...?" Logan tried for a casual tone.
Bling laughed outright. "Yeah, 'for example.'" he repeated. Caught, Logan looked to Bling, and when the look demanded a response, Bling confessed, "Look, man, Peter told me about the girl–I mean, come on, it was pretty memorable, some five foot, 100 pound ingenue lays him out." Bling chuckled softly, at the memory of Peter's consternation–and wishing Peter were here to be ribbed about it again. "That bruised his pride more than his jaw." He paused, and offered, "The system can be reset, but...I programmed the roof sensors to track only, not report, any human shape in the range of five feet and one hundred pounds, give or take...you know...just in case..."
"I have no reason to think that there will be a repeat performance." Logan said guardedly– confirming for Bling in that instant how much he hoped for one, and also serving to warn Bling not to get the man's hopes up, not in an emotional framework still so new and tender...
"Well." It was only fair that he have some idea of her visits, but Bling knew the signs, and recognized two people with powerful, compelling attractions that neither of them saw in themselves nor suspected in the other. Dangerous...potentially devastating...and if the stars were aligned in the universe as they should be...unbreakable... "I don't know about the roof, but...I think Max might show up, sometime."
Logan frowned and drew back a little in denial, a defensive gesture. "No–why would you think that?"
"Well...I got the bear from her, Logan. She brought it to the hospital" he offered, in a slight oversimplification of the truth. "Sophy wanted her to give it to you; I think she felt awkward about seeing you herself, but...she was concerned about how you were doing."
"Great." Logan said tersely, his cheeks burning. "Another mourner?"
"No, it wasn't like that" Bling said evenly. "She didn't even ask about your injury or prognosis or any of that. She simply asked how you were doing."
He wouldn't ask...he didn't want to know if Max had been told he was in the chair, for good, because then he'd have to know her reaction, and he didn't want to think about that. Putting it aside, he heard himself tell Bling he was ready with the text for the hack about Solinski and the smugglers, and turned to head back to the computer. At the keyboard, hearing Bling go back to assembling the sturdy workout table he'd ordered for the training room, Logan pulled up the video clips he wanted to use for the hack, and willed himself to focus on them. But instead of the clips, he kept seeing the dark eyes and perfect face he'd worked so hard to forget. And instead of the text, his thoughts returned to the fact that she had come to the hospital, while he was there. She'd come...she'd asked...she'd come...
...to be continued...