DISCLAIMER: I don't own this awesome show. I just love the characters, the drama, the mystery and romance...Okay, I love it all! Please let me know what you think...It takes a while to get my thoughts together, but I hope you are all enjoying this!'
PART IV - STILL UNRAVELING
A young couple waited in the conference room, the woman's face puffy and swollen from crying. She was clinging to her husband's hand, and she looked up at Lily with pleading eyes. "We came to identify….I mean, we need to see…" Mr. Raimes started.
"I understand. I'm Lily Lebowski, the Grief Counselor. This is Dr. Jack Slocum, the acting Chief Medical Examiner." Lily indicated Slocum, and he stepped forward silently to shake the hands of Lucas and Adele Raimes.
"I am so sorry, I know this must be such a difficult time for you," he said, his voice suddenly soft. "I wish we didn't need to go through this identification process, but it is necessary you understand." Lily was surprised by the gentleness in his tone. Lucas Raimes shook his head, squeezing the hand of his wife.
"Johnny was…." she tried, fumbling with a tissue. "Do we…Do I have to…."
Lily reached for her, patted her hand gently. "If you would prefer, we can bring in a photo instead."
"No, I don't 'prefer' to see a photo," Lucas said, his voice thick and heavy. "I need to - to see for myself."
"Lucas, I - I can't!" Adele whispered firmly. Lucas shook his head again.
Slocum rose quietly. "Mr. Raimes, why don't you come with me, then. Ms. Lebowski, why don't you stay here, with Mrs. Raimes." It was not a question, but an attempt at sympathy. Lily nodded in agreement, suppressing the surprise at this display of compassion from her boss, and Jack Slocum carefully led Mr. Lucas Raimes to identify the body of his dead nine year-old son.
Nigel stood in the autopsy room, trying to assist Sidney. He had been watching the hands on the clock move for about forty minutes, until he finally peeled his gloves off and threw them in the nearby trash, untied his apron and cast it into the laundry basket. "You okay, man?" Sidney's voice broke into the silence.
"Huh?" Nigel asked distracted by the ticking of the second-hand. He looked up at Sidney. "What was that?"
"I asked if you were okay….You've been staring at that clock for almost an hour now." Sidney expertly finished suturing the skin beneath his deft fingers and sliced the thread with a quick, practiced movement.
"So I have." Nigel looked up at the clock again. "Well, I'll leave you to finish then," he said, leaving Sidney more than puzzled. It wasn't like Nigel to be so out of focus when talking with his co-workers. Everyone was a pal to him, Sidney thought, as Nigel pushed the door open and disappeared into the hall.
It was still two minutes before the appointed time and he walked slowly and deliberately to the former office of Dr. Garret Macy - still the Chief Medical Examiner as far as he was concerned.
"Well, Dr. Townsend. It's nice to see that you respect my time," began Slocum. "Please, sit down." Nigel's awkward frame crammed itself into the uncomfortably small chair Slocum had indicated. Respect his time? Nigel laughed inwardly. What a joke!
"What's this all about?" he refused to beat around the bush or play mind games. This was one chief who would not get the better of him, that was for sure. "I have an exemplary record here," he added confidently, thinking of the numerous cases he'd helped through the office. His research skills really were a marvel.
Slocum nodded. "So you have. So you have." He grabbed the personnel file from the top of the stack in front of him. "Funny you should mention that, though…" Slocum's uncapped pen rolled absently across a page that he'd obviously highlighted earlier. "You have a glowing review from Dr. Macy. Several, as a matter-of-fact. The most interesting one states that you are 'invaluable'…dated only days after Dr. Yukora describes your work as average, somewhat disappointing considering your resume. And days before you were due to be - deported. Can I assume that the thought of leaving our dear U.S. of A. changed your performance dramatically in several days' time….to the point that you were exemplary…" he was reading now. "A skillful, indispensable asset to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts…" He put down his pen and looked into Nigel's unbelieving eyes. "Invaluable?" he finished.
"Hi, Dr. Macy," said one of the nurses brightly. She'd dated one of the technicians down at the morgue for a while, and Dr. Garret Macy had always been kind, not looking down on her because she was 'only a nurse', like some of the other high-and-mightys who had a few more letters after their precious college diplomas, a few more years of school than she did.
"Hi….Nicole, isn't it?" he asked, trying to put a name to the face. She beamed at him and nodded. He was so good at remembering details. Usually. "Can you tell me…Has Detective Hoyt been taken in for surgery yet?"
"I'll have to check on his file…Shift change, you know?" The petite nurse flipped through some paperwork on her desk. "No," she replied. "I haven't any orders for surgery yet. It seems that his fever escalated through the night and they had to postpone. His attending should be in to check on him in about another hour or so. I can call you if you haven't got time to stick around," she smiled.
"Is he able to have visitors?" Garret asked.
"For you, not a problem. We had to shoo out most of the police last night. He wasn't resting. I guess he wanted his time in the limelight….The heroics and all. Glam, huh?" she went on.
Garret walked down the bustling hall. He guessed that to most people, the survivor of a cop killer would be glamorous or famous or something, but it sickened him to think about it. He had been so wrapped up in his own problems that he really hadn't thought about what it would mean to him -- to the morgue and the fine city of Boston -- if Woody hadn't made it. But it began to sink in, the revelation of what the last few days must have meant to Jordan...
Oh God…Had she bolted again? He had left his cell phone at home, not really in the mood to talk with anyone. He'd better catch up with her, have a colleague-to-colleague chat. Friend-to-friend? No. More like father-to-daughter. He wondered if he should have Nigel check on Max's whereabouts, bring him into this nightmare drama.
"Garret," a voice broke into his thoughts. "Seems you're quite famous these days," Max said, indicating the newspaper headline.
"Max! What are you doing here?" Garret's surprise was evident.
Max gave him a level look. "My daughter apparently needs me…" he started.
Garret shook his head again. "Does she know you're here?" he asked, wondering yet again why she'd been so desperate for him to check on Woody.
"No…And she doesn't need to know quite yet, if you don't mind," Max said, picking up the paper. Garret caught a glimpse of the headline and grimaced. "So -- you need to talk?"
Great. Garret took a seat next to Max, trying to turn his attention to something else. To Jordan. He was hoping to find out once and for all why all the mystery. But the truth was, he did need to talk. And maybe he and Max could help each other…and Jordan.
Woody kept his eyes closed, trying to ignore the innate curiosity that made him such a great cop. He needed to rest anyway. He still felt so weak, helpless. God, he hated this. He should be out, on the street, doing his job. A job that he was damn good at. He wondered if he would ever be back on the street. The doctors should know more in the next few days, but that was almost too long to wait. Woody hated feeling useless. Maybe that's why he'd kicked Jordan out. Or maybe he was afraid. Right now, he was tired. So tired. He hated to be inactive. He wanted to jump up and bolt from the room. Instead he was stuck here in a hospital bed, Dr. M. and Max sitting here, talking quietly.
A million questions raced through his mind. When had Max come back? Why not tell Jordan he was in town? And anyway, what was going on with the doc? Was Slocum still investigating some type of cover-up? He sneered slightly, remembering the stupid Visitor's Pass…What had that all been about anyway? There was no way - absolutely no way! - Dr. Macy had been involved…The man was just too "stand-up, go by the rules". The original Boy Scout maybe. He was always trying to reign Jordan in, keep her within the law….There was just no way he had done anything that was not above-board. But right now he couldn't very well up and ask. Besides, they would never say anything important if they knew he was listening. Hell, that's the only way Jordan had whispered to him all those wonderful, torturous, wonderful things….She hadn't known he could hear her.
He thought about that, bitterness in his heart. He'd gone in to the surgery with the promise of finally winning her love. That was what made him fight so hard through it all. He had been so happy to see her there, had been waiting and wishing and starting to plan for a future with Jordan finally in it in reality, not just in his dreams. But when she was finally allowed to see him, she had started the conversation with small talk, and he wondered if she'd had second thoughts because of the fact that he might never walk again. Like she had never said anything. She didn't know he'd heard, and so she went back to the "friends" card. It was a way out for her, in case he didn't walk. And it hurt. God, it hurt even worse than his body did….It was as though someone had ripped his soul away from him in that moment. And when he confronted her, she'd been….what? He had been so full of anger. At her, at his condition. At the unknown path ahead. He had told her to leave. And for once, Jordan Cavanaugh had actually listened, he thought wryly. Turned on her heel and hightailed it out of his room. The fiesty, push-you-to-the-limits Doctor Jordan Cavanaugh hadn't even fought for him.
Woody tried to quiet the thoughts that were pounding in his head - or more appropriately, in his heart - but they got louder and louder, tormenting him at every turn, and he thought he would explode. He thought he heard beeping and blitzing, but the throbbing of his heart was so loud it was difficult to tell. "Doctor!" he faintly heard Garret calling, as Max leaned over him. "Hang on kid!" Then he heard nothing.