Sunday, 1 p.m.
The past thirty-six hours had been a blur for Elizabeth. Most of the time she'd spent in with Myles, talking about any number of things, or just being with him. Her grandfather's serum was administered every two hours, after which the virologist would draw a blood sample to run through his lab unit. After awhile, though, she was exhausted again, and it all started to run together.
A few moments stood out; meeting Robert and Anne Leland, for one thing. It didn't take long for her to realize where Myles had inherited that fierce pride and sharp wit. And she could see in his mother the same quiet strength and gentleness he saved for her when they were alone. The most incredible thing though, was their faith – an absolute certainty that, whatever the outcome, God was watching over their son. In some ways, it helped; in others, it just added to the realization that she had some hard decisions to make.
The other moment that stood out was an impromptu prayer circle. She had walked out of Myles' room to find the entire team, including Ted Garrett, with their heads bowed and Bobby Manning — Bobby — speaking for all of them. Only Sue's eyes were open, so she could follow what he was saying, so only she had seen Elizabeth. She had released Jack's hand and motioned Elizabeth over between them. Again, the gesture had brought a mix of comfort and confusion.
It was Sunday afternoon. She was sitting out in the waiting area, curled up on a chair with her arms around her knees and her head resting on top of them, alone for the moment. The team had gotten a call; Ted Garrett couldn't leave them out indefinitely. Myles' parents were in with him — under protest from their son, but there nonetheless. Her grandfather was catching a little sleep before "the fire," as he was putting it. And so she was left with her thoughts.
The problem wasn't that her feelings for him were changing – just the implications of those feelings. When Myles had made the offhand comment about her qualifying to be a Leland, her heart had skipped a beat; she knew, without consciously thinking about it, that she wanted that more than anything. If he had proposed to her right then, she'd have said yes.
But she was only now truly realizing that just wanting it wasn't enough – he'd chosen a dangerous path for himself, and she would have to walk that path with him. She wasn't sure she was ready for that. Is my love for him deep enough to be willing to let him go at any time, if that's what his job requires?
A gentle hand on her hair brought her out of her thoughts. Anne Leland had come out, and was surveying her with the understanding of a woman deeply in love.
"Elizabeth, are you all right?"
The psychologist stretched, then tucked her legs underneath her. "Just thinking. How's Myles doing?"
The older woman sighed. "It's hard to tell. Your grandfather's serum has him pretty groggy right now. Or it may just be that he's exhausted."
"Probably both," Elizabeth replied.
"You know," Anne said with a smile, "I'm glad we finally got to meet you. Myles doesn't write or call very often, but in the last three months you're all he talks about when he does. I've never seen him like this."
Elizabeth smiled. "My friend Tara says the same thing about me. And I usually see her once a week or so."
They chatted for awhile, until Robert Leland came out of Myles' room. Then the couple left to get some rest as well.
Elizabeth walked into the biohazard dressing area and gazed at Myles through the glass window. He seemed to be asleep. She quickly got into her gear and went to sit in a chair beside him. He didn't stir when she took his hand in both of hers, but the monitor readings were all right, so she turned her thoughts again to the dilemma she was facing…
s
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Sunday, 4 p.m.
She didn't realize she'd dozed off until a persistent beeping roused her. The sound kept rising in pitch, and she looked up to find Myles gasping a little, his eyes shut tightly. She glanced at the monitor and her heart dropped — he already had a fever of 101°, and it was climbing. Elizabeth pressed the button to alert the nurses' station, and her grandfather strode in almost immediately with another doctor.
"Here we go. Alan, turn off that blasted alarm." He drew a blood sample. There was a slight grunt as he found a vein with the needle. "Myles?" her grandfather asked.
"Still here, doc," came the reply, and she could hear the pain in his voice. "Got a headache that defies description, and it feels like it's spreading to every joint, but I'm still here."
David turned to his granddaughter. "Elizabeth, go get a basin with some ice water, and a couple of cloths. It's all we'll have to fight his fever."
She nodded, but Myles caught her hand before she got very far. "It'll be all right, love," he said. "Don't worry. I'm not leaving without a fight."
Swallowing hard, she squeezed his hand, then went to follow her grandfather's instructions.
s
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Friday, 5 p.m.
It had been five days of a nightmare she thought she'd never awaken from. Myles was holding his own, just barely. His fever remained at 103°F, his blood pressure kept fluctuating, and they were having a very difficult time keeping him hydrated. He had been vomiting blood, and her grandfather had finally given up taking separate blood samples and just left a needle in, clamped off, for lab work. But blood was coming out around the needle; they had to keep it well packed with gauze, which wasn't really working. Even the IV needle for the saline was bleeding out. Three transfusions had already been necessary. His liver and kidneys were failing.
There were two nurses helping, but Elizabeth, since she'd already been in with him, had resurrected all the medical knowledge she had received along with the psychology. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make her a quick study for the procedures. David taught her how to handle the virus-laden material and get it ready for the incinerator, and she could re-pack the IVs quickly and efficiently.
The worst part of it, though, was that Myles stayed relatively coherent through it all. David Dillingham kept saying it was a good sign, that the virus hadn't reached the agent's brain. But it ripped out her heart every time she looked into his eyes, almost completely red with hemorrhages now, and saw the pain there. Inevitably, he'd weakly toss off a quip and tell her not to worry, but she could tell it was getting harder.
Elizabeth braced herself and walked into the room, carrying another packet of blood. Her grandfather snatched it out of her hands without comment, and immediately set it up. It was the most vivid evidence to her that they were losing the battle. She took a deep breath.
The older man checked the tubes three times. Then he leaned over the bed. "Myles? Can you hear me?"
There was a slight nod and a groan.
"I'm going to try something, if you agree. I want to put a larger dose of the serum in with this transfusion – see if it'll shock the virus into giving up. If it doesn't…I don't know what else to do. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
His eyes opened slowly, and there was another nod.
"Do you agree to this?"
Myles looked over at Elizabeth.
She reached out and gently stroked his hair, his cheek. "It's up to you, love. You've fought long enough." Tears filled her eyes, and she had to swallow before she could continue. "It's your choice."
The red-filled eyes drifted closed, and he turned back to David. "Do it," he whispered.
The virologist nodded and finished the procedure. Elizabeth pulled a cloth out of the cold-water basin and gently applied it to Myles' forehead. His eyes opened again, and she read gratitude along with the pain. "Thank you," he said weakly, "for everything."
She nodded, tears streaming down her face; she then took his hand, trying to avoid the IV needle with its blood-soaked packing. "I love you."
He smiled. "I love you, too, sweetheart." Then his eyes drifted closed again.
Fifteen minutes later, the monitor alarm went off, causing Elizabeth to jump. Her grandfather, Dr. Tauman and the two nurses were there immediately.
"Fever's spiking…105…106…"
"Blood pressure's dropping like a rock…"
David Dillingham spoke. "Elizabeth, out."
"What—?" Her heart dropped to her feet.
"I mean it. Out, now." He looked up at her. "We'll do everything we can. I promise."
She ran out, pausing at the window as she got out of her bio-gear, to watch the two doctors working on the man she loved, the man she was certain she was about to lose.
s
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Friday 8 p.m.
She had made two phone calls as soon as she'd come out to the nurses' station, and now the whole team waited with her, along with Myles' parents. Three hours had passed with no word. Elizabeth sat next to Tara; her friend's arm was around her shoulders, but the psychologist could barely feel it. It was as if her body were shutting down along with Myles'.
David Dillingham walked slowly out of the room. He looked very tired. He came over to where Elizabeth was sitting, and bent down on one knee in front of her. "It was a reaction to the larger dosage of the serum," he said softly. "We knew we were taking a chance, but I never expected…"
She took a deep breath, and tried to steady her voice, her eyes on the floor. "I know you tried, Grandfather. Thank you."
He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I never expected such a reaction before he stabilized." It took a long moment to register; then he smiled as her head snapped up. "His fever's down, blood pressure is coming back up, the bleeding is slowing…it worked, Elizabeth. It'll take awhile to recover fully, but he's going to be fine."
She stared at him for a moment, still not daring to hope. Then she threw her arms around her grandfather and hugged him tightly. The relief and happiness in the room were palpable; she could feel it on her skin. "Can I see him?"
He stood up, drawing her to her feet as well. "He's still pretty weak, but I can't think of any better medicine. You'll still need your bio-gear for another twenty-four hours yet, but then everything should be fine."
He turned to the rest of the group. "With the exception of Mr. and Mrs. Leland, I think it might be better if the rest of you wait until tomorrow to go in. Myles needs a lot of rest right now." Several heads nodded in understanding.
Tara squeezed Elizabeth's hand. "Some things are just meant to be, my friend."
s
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Sunday, 6 p.m.
She'd been very quiet the whole afternoon. Myles watched Elizabeth standing at the window, staring at the snow, much as he had at his house nearly two weeks ago. Full circle, he thought. But something was different this time.
When he'd seen her Friday night, during the first pain-free moments he'd had in a week, her green eyes had glowed with relief and love. They hadn't said much, just basked in each other's presence. He'd been so tired that he'd fallen asleep after only a few minutes, but she'd been holding his hand, and that sensation alone had strengthened him.
Now, however, two days later, something was settling over her like a cloud. He'd known it was coming; once the relief wore off, the aftershock was setting in.
Dimitrius had been in to see him yesterday, and had warned him about this – Donna had been through a couple of "close calls" when they'd first been married, and had actually gone to counseling a few times after the second one. Now Myles watched the lady he loved going through her own fire.
He got up from the bed very slowly, pulling on the robe she'd brought for him from home. Then he went over to her and put his arms around her from behind, burying his face in her hair. He kissed her neck, then rested his cheek on her head. "Oh," he breathed, "I've been wanting to do that for over a week."
She didn't respond, didn't move. He stepped around so he could see her face. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, although she made no sound.
He gently grasped her shoulders. "Sweetheart, what is it? What's wrong?" He already knew, but asking her would help her focus.
The green eyes drifted closed, and her head dropped. Her voice was low and infinitely sad. "I never knew… How could I think I understood?"
"Understood what?"
"I've had patients who were spouses of firefighters, police officers…even a few federal agents. And I had all the 'textbook' answers for them. Now I understand, …and I'm not sure that 'textbook' answers are enough."
"Oh…" The implication of what she was saying squeezed his heart until it actually hurt, but he didn't say anything more, just waited for her to speak. Then he felt his legs start to give out, and he sighed. "Is it okay if we go back and sit down?"
She nodded, and he let her help him back to the bed. He leaned back and closed his eyes until the dizzy feeling went away, then reached for her hand. "Sorry. You were about to tell me something."
Elizabeth still couldn't look at him. "I don't want to do this now, so soon, but …"
He pulled her closer to sit next to him. "Sweetheart, I'm fine. You're not, though. What can I do?"
"I…I need…" She looked up at him, and he could feel her sadness. "I need…a little space right now, Myles. Please don't misunderstand. My love for you is as deep as it's ever been – maybe deeper. But it's not fair to you, if I can't resolve this, to let you think we can go any further."
She paused, searching for the right words. "I guess I need to figure out how high my 'price of peace' is, because you need someone in your life who can accept the price you've chosen." Her eyes dropped again.
He nodded, marveling that her concern was still for him more than herself. He didn't even try to keep his voice steady as he lifted her chin up until their eyes met. "Elizabeth, I understand. And you're right — it's not something you can face once and be done with. The possibility will always be there. Will you do me a favor, though? While you're searching, talk to Donna Gans. D's been with the Bureau a little longer than I have, and they were married only about a year after he signed on. Maybe her answers will help you find yours."
"I'll do that. I promise."
He smiled gently and stroked her cheek. "You just do what you need to, get your answers, and then give me a call. Because, even after all this, I'd still like to see you again."
She blinked in surprise, then let her breath out in a laugh. "Oh, I do love you. You sound a lot more hopeful than I feel right now."
Myles pulled her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. When their lips parted, he gazed at her and she could see that he really did understand. She also saw, for a brief moment, his image of her, and his next words would help her work through the next few… however long it took.
"Because I think you're stronger than you feel right now. We'll just see what happens."