Shattered

By: Abellen

Chapter Two: Found

I hate hospitals, and above all else I hate hospital receptionists. The woman behind the desk was glaring at me as though I'd been caught pushing old people down some stairs. She had wiry brown hair in a cloud around her old and fearsome face. Her lips were thin and the metallic pink lipstick only emphasized that fact, and she had it on her front teeth too.

'You are not next of kin, therefore you cannot see the patient.' Her tone was flat and slow, as though she thought she was talking to an idiot.

'She's my partner and my friend,' I explained through gritted teeth. 'Her sister Ariella is her next of kin and she said I should visit. I want to see Ingrid Third and Ma'am if you won't help me then I'll find her myself.'

The receptionist gasped as I turned on my heel and began to stride down the corridor. The signs were in bright colors, but not very helpful. Ingrid had a head injury and was unconscious so she was an in-patient. She wouldn't be in x-ray, but did she have a private room or was she on a ward?

I wandered around for a good half hour before I found her. A nurse was just coming out of the door, shaking her head to herself as she did so, and the chart in her hands clearly stated the patient's name.

'Excuse me, miss? Is it all right to see her?'

The nurse pursed her lips. 'Well, there's no real reason why not. I'll have to take some form of identification and remain in the room with you though.'

'That's fine.'

The room as full of hospital equipment, but at least Ingrid wasn't using too much of it. A heart rate monitor beeped to itself in the corner and there was an IV going into her arm. She lay very still and stiff in the bed, almost corpse-like. A bright white bandage wrapped around her forehead and making her hair stick up at all angles. If she were awake she would complain like hell about that.

I sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb anything as I took her hand and patted it uselessly. She was in for it rough when she woke up. Her world had fallen apart and then carried on without her. I couldn't even begin to imagine life without my parents.

'Ingrid, we've been worried about you.' I stumbled on my words, feeling stupid for talking to someone who plainly couldn't hear me. 'I even went around your house to check you were all right.' I paused, wishing I'd known then that she was in a hospital bed, unconscious and orphaned. 'I'm sorry, Ingrid, about your parents.' I squeezed her hand a bit and carried on. 'You haven't missed anything. There've been no tests in class and there's nothing going on at the patrol. Vallejo seems to know something the rest of us don't, but he's not telling. At least not right now.'

'Keep talking to her,' the nurse urged, her eyes intent on the readouts from the monitors. 'She's responding to your voice in the same way she responded to her sister's. We thought she was going to wake up then but perhaps now…'

'Uh, Danny's been trying to take pictures of his butt again,' I smiled at that, 'and I caught Anza going through Tehama's desk this morning. He was looking for evidence that she had hooked up with someone. We didn't find anything though. She flipped when she found his fingerprints all over her stuff. You should've been there.'

I stopped, watching her face intently. I thought I'd just seen a flicker of movement. A small quirk of her lips or perhaps her eyelashes fluttering. I leant a little closer and muttered, 'Are you laughing at me?'

She turned her head a fraction of an inch and whispered. 'No, Fillmore.'

The nurse leapt towards the door. 'I'll get a doctor. Try to keep her awake. See if she remembers anything except who you are!'

I watched the young woman go before turning back to Ingrid. Her eyes were open a fraction, squinting as though the dim light hurt. Her grip was tight on my hand, her nails digging into my skin a bit as her features fell into lines of misery.

'You know, don't you?' I asked.

'Yes. It's the last image in my mind. I knew they were dead and I was reaching for Dad's cell phone but then… nothing.' She sighed and whispered, 'I don't believe it.'

She turned her head away from me and I fell silent. If she was crying she was quiet about it. I looked around for a tissue and ended up having to resort to the crumpled one in my pocket. 'Your sister will be here soon.' I reassured her as I tipped her head back to me and wiped at her face.

'But then what? Ariella's not old enough to look after me.'

'I expect Social Services will work something out.' That sounded like a grim prospect no matter how I said it. 'Listen, Ingrid, I have to go home for dinner. My parents say they're sorry for what happened, and that if you need anything…'

'Thanks, Fillmore.'

I stepped back, but was unwilling to leave. I leant down closer to the bed and carefully put an arm around her. 'I'll stay until your sister gets here, is that all right?'

We sat for a handful of minutes in silence. I didn't quite know what to do. I'd never in the entire length of our friendship seen Ingrid cry before, and I wasn't used to it. Tehama cried on a frequent basis over something or other. You gave her tissues and a bar of Hershey's and the problem solved itself. I didn't think it would be that easy with Ingrid.

Ariella rushed in with a doctor and I stepped back, only to be completely unbalanced when I was half crushed in a fierce hug. 'Thanks for helping her, Fillmore.' Ariella gave a fleeting smile before turning to her sister and cuddling the life out of her.

The doctor began to ask questions and I backed out of the room. Ingrid was alive, and it would take time but she'd be okay. She'd be back in no time, I was sure of it.

When I said "back in no time" I had not been expecting to see Ingrid sitting at her desk the next day. I started in alarm when she greeted me, then felt like a fool for being surprised.

'Does your sister know you're here?'

'Yes. Absolutely,' Ingrid replied, hardly looking up from the newspaper on her desk.

'You're lying, aren't you?'

'No!' There was a hint of a smile before she turned her attention back to the finances section. 'I'm not allowed to go to class. I'm thoroughly deskbound. Vallejo's made sure of it.' She motioned with her hand and I could see she'd been cuffed to the arm of her desk chair.

'How are you going to go to the bathroom?

'He said something about a bottle and a funnel.'

'If I were you I wouldn't drink too much hot chocolate. There are photocopies of all my notes in your drawer. They won't be as good as yours, and I fell asleep in French class, but I tried.'

She didn't say anything, just looked at me with her head tilted to one side. Her hair was still restricted by the bandage but it swung to brush her chin before she shoved it behind her ear. 'Thanks, you'd better get to class. Anything you need me to check out?'

'Nope, there's been nothing, except… someone left a red rose on your front porch, I found it when I went around to check on you the other day. I think it's on Tehama's desk. I thought you should know you have some kind of admirer.'

I shut the door behind me and scowled. That had sounded bitter, which was not what I'd meant to convey. Ingrid's business was her own and absolutely none of mine. By the time I was done in classes my mood was pretty foul. Anza was waiting for me in the corridor along with O'Farrell. They were talking in low voices, but stopped as I approached.

'Has Vallejo talked to you yet?' Anza asked.

'About what?'

'There's a new transfer student. He's a real rough guy apparently and gets pushed from school to school. X is meant to be his last chance.'

'What's he guilty of?'

'Harassment and intimidation. His victims are always female. He's meant to have gone for psychiatric evaluation but he was clean.' O'Farrell murmured.

'Dawg, just what we need. Some weirdo freaking the girls out.'

'Most girls are tougher than you think, Fillmore. There is one thing though. He chose to come to X,' Anza said, his tone thick with suspicion.

'It's a good school, what about it?'

'The Junior Commissioner's worried he might be tailing one of his previous victims. One he did more than just harass. He was physically violent, did her some real harm.'

'Anyone we know?'

'You're not going to like it.' O'Farrell warned as he pushed open the office door and entered the chaos within.

'It's Ingrid.'

I stopped in my tracks and stared openly at Anza. 'What?'

'We've not been told much, just that he was doing his normal bully thing and then lashed out at her.'

'How bad was it?' I demanded with more force than I'd intended.

Anza narrowed his eyes as he considered me, as though he were trying to find a reason for the strength of my reaction. 'We don't know. The Junior Commissioner's not telling. He's got us all watching her, but he won't tell her straight up himself. Doesn't want to make her life any worse.'

'Vallejo doesn't need to tell me. I can figure it out for myself.' Ingrid was leaning against her desk, twirling the red rose absently in her grip.

'How did you get out of those cuffs?' I asked.

'That's not important. Mike Harris is the transfer's name and if he were after me, we'd know by now. He's not the subtle type.' She sighed and for a second I could see how tired and miserable she really was. 'I'm going home. I'll see you on Monday.'

'Wait.' Anza held out a hand to stop her. 'Let one of us walk you home. Vallejo's getting grey hairs, and giving him a heart attack just isn't worth it.'

'There's no need.'

'Ingrid, come on,' I urged. 'My house isn't far from yours.'

'It's in completely the opposite direction, Fillmore!'

'Don't argue.'

She looked like she was going to put up a fight. Her eyes were narrowed and her chin tilted in defiance, but she just grabbed her bag and started walking, leaving me to catch up.

It was still raining like there was no tomorrow and Ingrid paused on the steps, opening up an umbrella before stepping out into the downpour. We walked in silence for a few minutes before she moved closer to my side and let me into the small circle of dryness below it.

'You really don't have to do this, Fillmore.'

'I know.' We waited at the crossing for the cars to stop before heading for the opposite sidewalk. 'But I want to. I mean, we were all worried as hell when you didn't show up on Monday and now there's Harris.'

'Who is not a problem.'

'What did he do to you?'

'Nothing.'

'Ingrid, it says in his file that you were the only girl he was physically violent towards. I know he did something.'

'It was nothing permanent.'

I scowled at my feet, thinking how I hated girls with mysterious pasts and how I despised my trainers, which leaked like a sieve. 'Fine, you don't have to tell me, but you know you'll feel better if you do.'

'No, I won't.'

'For a genius you're stubborn.'

'That's not an impediment to intelligence, you know.'

She was scowling now and her knuckles were white where they were clenched around the umbrella handle. I thought that perhaps I should leave it, but I never had been very good at taking my own advice. 'If it's not so bad then why won't you tell me?'

'Drop it,' she snapped, before turning on me and gesturing wildly down the street. 'Just go home, Fillmore!' She threw the umbrella at me and stalked off, leaving me standing in the rain like a fool.

I would have chased after her, but something told me that if I did we'd just end up not talking to each other in the morning. If Ingrid wouldn't tell me about Mike Harris then I'd find out myself. I had my ways.

End of Chapter Two

A/N: Thank you to the people who reviewed, it means a lot to me! This is a quick update to get the story going, and after this updates should (at most) be twice weekly, and (at least) be weekly. It's still being written, so it's a dynamic process, but a very fun one!

Just a quick note on ages: Ingrid and Fillmore are about fourteen in this fic. I am told this is possible in Middle School. If not, then please just use your imaginations.