The Hunter
Disclaimer: I don't own FBEye or any related characters. The plot is mine.
Summary: This is an alternate ending to the episode about the Hunter, the serial killer who killed cabbies. What if Bobby was the agent whose cab responded to the Hunter?
Lucy dropped her phone, not caring where it landed. She was in shock. Grabbing her purse and keys she ran out the door to go to the hospital.
She tried to process what Sue had told her during the short drive. The arrest had gone wrong—very wrong. Lucy was glad that they had caught the Hunter, but not at the possible price of Bobby's life. What would the office be like if Bobby was gone? She shook her head. She couldn't think like that. It wasn't helping anything to assume Bobby dead. Sue hadn't known how bad Bobby was or where he was stabbed. There was a lot of blood, but that could mean a lot of things. Lucy sighed, and tried to concentrate only on driving.
"Mr. Hudson?" Jack's head jerked up. He, Lucy, Tara, and D had been sitting in the waiting room for half an hour. This was the first that anyone had come to talk to them. Jack had listed himself as the contact on Bobby's paperwork since his family was out of the country.
"That's me." Jack said, rising. "How's Bobby?"
"He's on his way to a room in Intensive Care. We managed top stop the bleeding, but he lost a lot of blood and needs a blood transfusion within the hour." Jack slowly let out the breath he was holding.
"So…" The doctor sighed.
"I'm sure that you've heard of the blood donation shortages. I'm afraid that we don't have any of Mr. Manning's blood type here. We are putting a call out to other blood banks in the area, but…" Jack ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't accept that Bobby may not make it.
"What are you saying?" Jack asked softly.
"We need to give Mr. Manning a transfusion or—he probably won't make it." Jack sighed.
"Well—can one of us donate?" Lucy asked. The doctor turned to her after a pause.
"Of one of you are a match, there's no reason that you couldn't."
"What blood type is he?"
"That's the problem. He's O-. That's an unusual blood type, and with the shortage in donors…" Jack whipped his head around to race the others. He was desperate. But they were all as desperate as he was. Jack wanted to scream.
"There's a good chance that we can get his blood type from another blood bank in the areas." The doctor said quickly.
"Can we see him?" Jack asked hoarsely
"We're only supposed to let family…"
"He doesn't have any family in America. We're all he's got."
"Alright. One of you can go in, but only for a few minutes."
"Jack, you go." D said, looking around at the others. Jack took a deep breath and followed the doctor up to the ICU. Jack took another deep breath at the door of Bobby's room. ICU was bad. He slowly walked in and cringed. Bobby looked like he was dead. Machines beeped softly and an IV dripped into his good arm. Jack looked everywhere except at the still form on the bed for several minutes, gathering his nerve. Finally he looked at Bobby. He was as white as the sheets on his bed. His chest was barely rising and falling, so that at a glace he appeared dead. Oxygen tubes ran from his nose and his shoulder was heavily bandaged. Jack was close to tears. Bobby was his closest friend. He was carefree and rarely serious. It was hard to imagine that that same man was the one in the hospital bed. It was bizarre to see Bobby still. He was always moving. Jack slowly sank into the chair next to the bed and tentatively reached out and put his hand on Bobby's.
"Come on Bobby. Hang on." His voice broke. "You can't go yet. It's not your time. Hang on."
A nurse came to the door and cleared her throat. Jack tore his eyes away from his friend. He slowly got up and walked back into the hall.
"I'm sorry." Jack nodded mutely. He found Tara, Lucy, and D in a small waiting room outside of the ICU.
"How is he?" Tara asked. Jack sank into one of the chairs away from the group and buried his head in his hands. Lucy glanced at D and Tara then got up and sat down next to Jack. She put her hand on his back gently.
"How're you doing?" She asked gently.
"He's looks dead." Jack said abruptly, struggling to keep his voice steady and avoiding Lucy's question.
"It's okay, it's okay." Lucy rubbed his back lightly. Jack couldn't get the blood soaked front seat of his car out of his mind. He desperately wanted to forget the night, but he couldn't. It kept replaying in his mind; everything that he wanted to forget.
"He's going to be okay Jack." D said gently. Jack jerked his head up, his eyes wild.
"Stop saying that! You didn't see him! Do you want to go look at my car? It's covered in blood!" Jack yelled wildly.
"Calm down, Jack." Lucy said gently. Jack stood up, shaking off Lucy's hand.
"Calm down? You want me to calm down when Bobby's laying in that room dying?" Jack's voice broke and he collapsed back into the chair. D leaned forward towards Jack. He opened his mouth, but he was cut off as Sue and Myles, lead by Levi, burst into the room.
"How's Bobby?" Myles asked in a slightly panicked voice. Levi whined. D sighed inwardly.
"He's in ICU but he needs a blood transfusion in the next hour…" D said, keeping his eyes on Jack. Sue sat down next to Lucy and Myles flopped into a chair across from D. The room was cloaked in silence. D kept his eyes locked on Jack, concern written all over his face.
"We got him locked up. We've got enough to put him away for the rest of his life." Myles said softly, with none of the elation that usually accompanied a big arrest. Jack's hands balled into fists.
"How can you be thinking about that? What the hell's the matter with you?" Jack spat furiously, his voice full of hatred. He got up, shaking off Lucy's arm, and stormed out. D sighed and got up to follow him. He was taking it so hard, and understandably so. Bobby was one of his closest friends. They had gone through all their training together and were almost inseparable.
D found Jack leaning against a wall near the nurse's station. D slowed down. He looked so upset.
Jack looked at the clock over the nurse's station and slammed his fist into the wall. Bobby was running out of time.
"Jack." D said softly. "He didn't mean anything by it. You know that. We're all worried about Bobby." Jack leaned his forehead against the wall, his arm above his head.
"None of this was supposed to happen. We were supposed to be celebrating right now. Instead, we're in the hospital and Bobby's—" Jack said finally in a low voice.
"I know." Dimitrius put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "You want to go back? They might know something."
"Yeah, I guess." Jack said flatly. D frowned. He was almost as worried about Jack as he was about Bobby. Before they got through the door, a nurse stopped them.
"Mr. Hudson?" Jack nodded. "You can go down to see Mr. Manning now."
"Thank you." Jack followed the nurse down the hall back into Bobby's room. He sank heavily into the chair. "Hang on Bobby, hang on." He mumbled. Bobby groaned and shook his head on the pillow. He groaned again, then slowly opened his eyes.
"Wha—" He tried to sit up, moaning.
"Hey, hey don't try to move. How're you feeling?"
"Awful." Bobby rasped weakly. "What happened?" Jack took a deep breath.
"The Hunter almost got you." Bobby's eyes widened.
"How bad?" He rasped. Jack looked down at his hands. After a long pause he said quietly,
"We, uh, got the Hunter. Myles and Sue locked him up." Jack avoided looking at Bobby. He was avoiding Bobby's question. Jack knew he was being selfish. He didn't want to be the one to tell Bobby. He wasn't thinking about his friend, he was thinking about himself. "They, uh, they'll be glad to hear you're awake. Everyone's here." Jack fumbled on. He was desperate to avoid telling Bobby how bad he really was. He glanced up at the clock with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 15 precious minutes of Bobby's hour of life had already ticked away. He looked back at Bobby. He looked so weak and fragile.
"Jack—you're—avoiding—it." Bobby said weakly. Jack turned away. Bobby squeezed his hand with a surprising amount of strength. "I know—it's—bad. Just—tell—me." He gasped. Jack took a deep breath.
"Okay." He said finally in a low voice. "He got you in your right shoulder. The knife—it went all the way through. It's—it's bad." Jack turned away feeling exhausted. He didn't want to face Bobby. He was saved by the doctor coming in. Jack turned his eyes to the doctor. He was hoping and praying that they had the blood transfusion for Bobby. He hadn't been able to tell his closest friend that he had less than an hour to live. If they had the blood, he wouldn't have too, not until later. After Bobby was out of the hospital.
"Good, you're awake. How do you feel?"
"Awful." Bobby rasped. The doctor smiled.
"It's expected." He glanced at Jack. "How much did Mr. Hudson tell you?"
"I told him what happened."
"Can I see you in the hall for a moment, please?"
"Sure. Don't go anywhere." He joked lamely to Bobby then followed the doctor into the hall.
"You didn't tell him about the blood transfusion?" The doctor asked once they were out of earshot. Jack shook his head, looking at the floor. "Unfortunately, I don't have any good news. So far, no blood banks have responded." Jack let out the breath he was holding.
"I'll—I'll tell him. I don't want him to get the news from someone he doesn't know." The doctor nodded. "Oh, would you tell the other people waiting?"
"Of course. I'll let you know as soon as we have any news." Jack nodded. He stood a moment in the hall, gathering his strength. He would rather face, alone and unarmed, an army of terrorist with automatic weapons than Bobby. Squaring his shoulder, he turned and walked in.
"Bobby…..there's something I didn't tell you. It's—it's worse than I told you…you—uh—you…you need a blood transfusion in—in soon or…" Jack forced himself to look at Bobby's stricken face.
Bobby took a deep breath. Jack put his hand on Bobby's.
"Man, I'm sorry……They're gonna get it—you're gonna be fine."
"Then why don't I have it?" Bobby asked quietly.
"They don't have your blood type here. They're calling other hospitals and blood banks. They're gonna find it—you're gonna be fine." Jack finished lamely. He knew how desperate it sounded and he hated himself for it.
Bobby looked down. The whole thing seemed unreal. The idea that he might die before the night was over—he couldn't accept it. He had understood the risks of the job when he took it, but somehow they had never been real. Even when Skip died, he had never seriously considered the possibility of death. It seemed unreal.
So, chapter two. Please review, it really means a lot. Hopefully the next chapter will be up later today or tomorrow. I hope to have it all up before I leave. Bottom line: review!
