A/N So it gets lighter. For a bit. Don't let it fool you. Thanks for making this my most reviewed story on size=1 width=100% noshade>She can have everything she wants
But she doesn't know the way she taunts
It's tearing me apart
It's tearing me apart
Get away, get up get away
OAR-Get Away
He sat in the small office, looking around, bored. He had been summoned here, and he wanted to know why. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach as to why, he just prayed it wasn't the truth. Jordan had said she hadn't told anyone, but he wasn't entirely sure about that. "Hello Garret." He turned to the voice in the doorway. He heard a slow exhalation of breath as she saw him as well. "Jesus. Jordan said you looked bad but-" He looked down.
"Hello to you too Renee." She sat down across from him. "So why am I here?" He asked and she shoved him a stack of papers. "What's this?" He started flipping through them.
"Driving directions to my summer house. Which is where you're going. According to everyone, you're working yourself to the bone. Not eating, not sleeping, just working. And you crash your car because you're too busy not sleepy and not eating to pay attention. You need a vacation Garret, I'm shipping you off, this isn't optional, you're the best we've got, and you've gotten the same stats as Slokum, so you don't need to work this hard. Take two weeks, relax, all you've done since-" She trailed off, not wanting to bring up the subject. "But I'm supposed to be the workaholic, go home, pack a bag, and I don't want to see you in Massachusetts's again for at least a week."
He glared at her. "I'm fine." He said and she shook her head before rummaging around in her purse. She pulled out a small compact and held it up to him.
"Look at yourself Garret." He stared at the reflection. His cheeks were hollow. His eyes were sunken in. "You look like something that should be rolling through the morgue not working in it." He had to admit she was right. He hadn't noticed his appearance. His beard was scruffy and unkempt, some of it longer than others.
"I'm fine." He countered again and she shook her head.
"You're not. I'm sending you away. And I want you to do nothing but sleep and eat the entire time you're there. You are not taking any work, you are forbidden from taking any and all work related calls and I'm telling your staff if they call you, it's their head on the chopping block. Go away for a week Garret, do yourself some good." She weighted the stack down with a set of keys.
"Here you go. You're going up to Vermont for the week, no ifs ands or buts. Ski or something if you MUST do something, but don't work. Please." She actually had a real note of concern in her voice. He met her eyes, and he could see that she was upset.
"Fine." He agreed, grabbing the keys.
"The car's parked in the garage beneath."
"Don't you need one?" He asked and she shook her head.
"You've got Eddy's. He doesn't need it." He fought back a smirk. "Just don't crash this one off a bridge, you break it you buy it." He chuckled, more because it was the response she was aiming for than anything and headed downstairs.
He climbed into the car and drove back to his apartment, packing only a few days worth of clothes. He would go out there, humor her, and come back. Or lock himself in there and never come out. Which the more he thought about it, the more and more appealing it sounded.
He could have another accident, one that Jordan couldn't prove was anything but. Sonny Bono had met his unfortunate end with a tree. But that sounded far too painful, he had skied into a tree before and had come away with only a broken rib and broken leg, but it was enough to not make him want to repeat the experience ever again. If he didn't die from that, he didn't want to put up with that pain.
He started the long drive up, hating every minute of it. He didn't want to be there, he didn't, where he wanted to be was at home with a nice bottle of scotch. But instead he was on the highway heading up to some remote corner of Vermont near a large lake and a ski slope. He turned up the radio to stop from falling asleep. He didn't need Jordan thinking that a real accident had been intentional.
He wanted to go home and crawl into a bottle and drink until well past drunk. He didn't care anymore, he had no reason left to care. He couldn't even blink anymore, he kept hearing her voice, no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it. There was a reason why he wasn't sleeping.
It was the worst in the hospital. He knew that it was the withdrawal that had been making it worse, but he had just wanted the sleeping pills, something to get rid of the nightmares. It was why he had started drinking. In the two days since he had been released, under the sharp eye of Jordan and the rest of the staff he had switched to coffee, downing it in the same way that he had gone through scotch. Which worked just as well to stop the nightmares by not letting him sleep.
He found the house and pulled to a stop, getting out and heading inside, making a pot of coffee as soon as he walked in. If he was going to be here a week he was going to need a lot of caffeine.