Rebirth – Chapter 6: Reshackled

-Notes-

Merry-2004: XD Oh no! Hope you didn't get in trouble. Thanks!

Graymoon74: Oo Note to self, write book and avoid ass-kicking. I'm glad you enjoy my writing—I sure enjoy writing it. In movie stores? Huh. I don't know about where you are, but where I live it just came out in theaters hardly a month ago. Well good luck, and watch it, it's a good one.

Angelgardain666: Well here it is. Hope you continue to like it!

Agent182: --Looks at dead doctor on the floor-- Shucks, what a shame. And just two years left 'til retirement. Hey! Someone get this corpse off the damn floor, this is a sterile environment! Jackasses…Anyway, yeah, there's going to be a lot of Adam angst down the road. And let's see…while there will be sex in this story, it's not a pointless fuck-fest, so I'm gonna take my chances. It's important, because I don't know how to write romance without…you know, leaving in one very important aspect? Worse comes to worse, anyone who e-mails me will still be receiving chapters.(e-mail address is in profile)Thanks for the review!

So, with that said—

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"Dr. Gordon?"

Somewhere out of the blackness, he was being called back.

"Dr. Gordon?"

It wasn't a warm, familiar voice. Where was he? That voice wasn't Allison…she didn't really have any occasion to address him as 'Dr.', anyway. So what the hell was…?

"Dr. Gordon, are you awake?"

Awake. Shit. Time to go to work. Was he late? He'd never been late.

"Dr. Gordon?"

"What?" he grumbled, trying to open his eyes.

"Well now there you are. I was beginning to think you'd fallen into a coma." Came the semi-joking voice of Jennifer. Oh damn it. He wasn't late for work—in fact, he'd spent the night there.

"I'm…What? What time is it?" he asked raspily, putting a hand over his face to try and block out the light.

"It's almost six o'clock. You've been asleep all day." she informed, and he felt her fixing at his pillow needlessly. "It's time to wake up now. You're wife and daughter will be here in an hour."

"Oh…I…alright." He slowly removed his hand to allow the light to seep in. Allison, Diana, of course. He was desperate to see them. "They're alright, you're sure?" he struggled to push himself into a sitting position, and the nurse helped him.

"Of course. They were a little shaken up, but they're just fine. Here, drink this." She again shoved a cup of water to his lips.

He gave her an indignant look before drinking some, then turned his head. As he did, he caught a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall to his left. Six. He swallowed hard and shuddered, tearing his eyes from the clock and back to Jennifer, who was now checking the pulse in his wrist. "How are you feeling this morning, Dr.?"

He outright snorted and pulled his arm away from her. "How do you think?"

She merely stood staring at him.

He sighed, rubbing the side of his face harshly. "I'm sorry…I just…I'm fine, I suppose."

"Feeling well enough to eat?" she asked next, seemingly unphased by his mood.

He thought about the hospital food only momentarily before his stomach twisted. It was never any good, he knew that from experience. After all, during shifts he was too busy, he never had time to go anywhere else. The cafeteria was conviniently located. The idea of it now, though, even despite the fact he hadn't eaten in several hours, seemed grotesque. "No, I don't think…"

"Well I'll bring you something and you can eat it if you feel like it." She smiled, moving away from the bed.

Lawrence shook his head breifly, looking around the room. Wasn't she even listening? "What about Adam?" he asked determinedly, resituating himself.

"Adam?" …she couldn't possibly be saying she didn't remember…

"Yes. The man I was kidnapped with." He tried to say this calmly, but he was clearly irritated. "Adam. He's in his twenties, dark hair, prone to panic."

"Oh, him." She waved a hand. "I haven't heard anything about him since he came in."

"Well…couldn't you find something out?" he tossed a hand up.

"I wouldn't worry about that right now, Dr. Gordon." She dismissed.

"That's really none of your business, now, is it?" he narrowed his eyes. "You said last night that he was fine, I want to see him."

"I'm sorry, but for now we've limited your visitors to family members only." Jennifer informed.

What was wrong with this place? In the one day that he was gone, did it completely fall apart? "I don't give a damn what you've limited me to, this is my hospital, I can see any patient I want!"

"I'm sorry, Dr., but right now you're not in the position to be giving orders. You've been through a lot. I know you must be pretty stressed out." She tried to assuage him with a small shrug. "I'll level with you. Put yourself in my place, since I know you've been there more than once. I have a patient fresh out of surgery from a traumatic event bordering on mild delerium asking to see the condition of another unrelated patient. Knowing those factors, do you think it would be wise to let him have his way?"

"Yes." He countered indignantly. "Well…I…maybe not for just anyone, but that isn't the point—I'm a doctor, I know the factors, don't I at least have some say in the way I'm treated?"

"I'm afraid not. Whether you like it or not, Dr. Gordon, we have to treat you along the same guidelines we treat any other patient." Jennifer nodded surely.

"Unbelievable." Lawrence scoffed. These were different circumstances. Didn't she see that?

"I'll bring you by something to eat in just a few minutes." She decided before exiting the room.

He sighed heavily and lay back on his pillows, trying to cope with a naseaous sensation of pain from his leg. He'd never felt so awful in all his life, if that even needed to be stated. He was an inch away from vomitting and he was weak and pale from loosing so much blood, and now the recovery. His leg burned with a maddening, though somewhat dulled pain. And this was the way his family was going to see him? A sick, unable man confined to a bed, newly snatched from the edge of death? He had to admit that selfishly he did want to see them very much. But when he thought about the look on Diana's face…he couldn't bare it.

And what was he supposed to tell her when she asked what happened to Daddy's foot, anyway? God…He looked down for the first time at the expanse of his body, trying to look at his mangled leg. Only to find that…his leg was casted. There was no sickly gauzed-up stump left from the teeth of the saw, only a bandaged foot in a heavy, stiffened cast. For a moment, it made him scarcely doubt that the whole thing had happened at all. But as quickly as it came, he immediately refused to let his hopes up. So they'd re-attatched his foot. He knew the probability of it remaining was extremely low. Chances were he'd end up losing it again. He tried once to move the foot, but only found another wave of searing pain stab through where the stitched scar likely lay. Cursing himself, he lay back again.

Stuck here. He'd spent the accumulative number of years out of his life in this hospital, but he'd never been trapped in it like this, and in one room no less. No restrictions had ever been made on him here, and for the first time, he truly hated this place. He just wanted to go home. This whole ordeal had made him appriciate home more than any place in the world. Even sitting at his desk, writing his boring papers, listening to his wife bicker at him for being so busy lately. And especially in his daughter's room, telling her some crazy kid's story or trying to think up some new way to get her to go to bed. She always found some way to get out of bedtime. Sometimes Allison would get fed up and tell him that Diana was his problem for the night. He loved it when she was his problem.

It killed him that he wouldn't be able to see her for days. At least, not while he still looked like this. He wouldn't have it. There was only Allison, and those would be some strange conversations after this. Their relationship had been so strained…this event had been horrid, but he didn't know if that would be enough to turn them around. To tell the truth, he didn't honestly know if he wanted it to. He wasn't sure if she would want to visit him much, anyway. There hadn't exactly been 'love' between them for years. They both knew that Diana was the only thing holding them together, but damned if he was going to say it.

He was even barred from seeing Adam. That was insane. All he wanted was to make sure he was okay, like he promised him he would be. It was true, Jennifer had told him that he was fine, but he hardly placed any trust in that when she couldn't even remember his name. She could be lying, also. Even though that was an incredibly outlandish thing to believe, he was just paranoid—and drugged—enough to think it plausible. Maybe they were trying to spare his feelings. But logically, nothing should be wrong…right? A little shoulder wound, some cuts and bruises. What could have happened? …Of course, he could've had some kind of mental breakdown. He could be locked up in the phsyciatric care ward right now, the emotional reprucussions of beating a man to a pulp and being locked in a room marked for death pushing him straight out of his mind. Was it really so much to ask just to be able to see him?

He felt a deep pang of sorrow as he thought of it. Poor Adam. He was so young. And now, his life was possibly ruined for good. How could he deserve that? And despite the lunacy of it, Lawrence felt partially responsible. Maybe it was just the fact that he'd shot him. Even if it was to save them both, there was a moment where Adam genuinely must have believed that he'd been betrayed. But still he'd come to in time to save the life of the man who had just supposedly stabbed him in the back. Perhaps feelings of guilt were natural in that situation, bizarre as it was.

He tried to close his eyes one more time. It was all too much to think about…too much to worry over. Too much that he couldn't do right now, bed bound as he was. He didn't want to deal with it all right now. Just give him a few moments peace in this avalanche, that's all he was asking. If that damned nurse showed up again, maybe he could just…pretend to be sleeping...