Disclaimer: I don't claim to own Spooks, or any of the characters, they all belong to the people at Kudos and the BBC. I'm just borrowing some of the characters and having a bit of fun with them, I promise they'll be nice and clean when I give them back.
Please review, any comments are greatly appreciated :o)
Like Fire
It's an odd feeling, y'know, being shot. First thing you feel as that bit of metal enters your body is fire. It's like someone has taken a match to a puddle of petrol lying in your stomach. Your whole body feels like it's alight. Then, at the same time, it feels like the same flaming stomach has been hit with a sledgehammer, all the breath is punched from your lungs and you can't breathe for a moment until your reactions kick in and you take in air. If you didn't see the bullet being fired at you, you really wouldn't know what had hit you, whether you'd been punched, stabbed, anything. It's after a few moments of breathing that you feel it. The pain that comes with having some foreign body pummelled into your own, ripping your muscles and tearing your veins as it goes. I can't really begin to explain it, but there is a reason why the majority of people that get shot pass out pretty quickly. It makes your world go black at the edges, and you see little white spots dance in front of your eyes. The doctor that was tending to my wounds explained to me that as the bullet goes in, it pushes everything in with it, yet when it exits your body it takes everything out with it, that's why sometimes it's more crucial to treat the exit wound first. I thanked him for the info, then shifted to a slightly more comfortable position in my hospital bed.
My name is Adam Cox today, and I am lying in a very white, very crisp, clean hospital room. I'm being treated for bullet wounds just above my heart and in my shoulder blade. Apparently I'm very lucky, the bullet missed my heart, but tore my lung. When Harry dragged me into the protective cover of the car, seconds before Angela Wells shot him too, he apparently turned me over so that I wouldn't choke on my own blood. Harry got caught in his leg, shattering his knee. He's in physiotherapy right now as I contemplate eating some more grapes. Later, when he comes back, relying heavily on a crutch as he limps in, I ask him whether he felt the same sensation when he'd taken the bullet. He nods and adds "both times". Aaah yes, I forgot that our Head of MI-5 had been starring down the barrel of a gun before. He takes a seat slowly, wincing slightly.
I must've gone unconscious quite quickly because all I know about the 'accident' as the hospital think it was, is that Angela somehow got herself to the top of an adjacent building and decided to take Harry and I out when we returned to Thames House. I don't know whether she's still alive, or if she took anyone out of the picture. I want to know, but I don't know whether it's safe to ask now. I glance at Harry's face, he looks worried and tired, understandably.
"Harry, what happened after I blacked out?" I ask. He sighs.
"The wild bird was caged" he replies quietly.
"Permanently?"
"Unless there is a miracle, yes. Permanently."
"Good. Anyone else hurt?" I manage to wince out over a surge of pain caused by my moving slightly.
"No. Thank god….But I'm yet to find out the extent of my injuries. You see, I made an error of judgement, ones at the higher table will not be impressed" he gingerly massaged his heavily bandaged right knee.
"Not one single person could've predicted that such a once tame animal would turn so vicious, Harry" I replied, sitting up very gently.
"You could've been killed, Adam"
"So could you" I will not let him go down this path of self doubt, he may be my boss but he is also a friend, and I will not let him think this is his fault and god forbid do something stupid, like resigning.
"Hmm, but I do not matter so much, what about William?" it takes a moment for me to realise that he is talking about Wes, and I shake my head.
"Harry, I know the risks…"
"But he does not" I pause.
"No, you're right, and I will endeavour to make sure that he never does, believe me"
Harry nods and then a nurse comes into my room to take my obs.
"Mr Peterson, you shouldn't be in here" she says reprimanding Harry for not being in his own room.
"Yes, yes I know. I'm going" Harry stands, very slowly and adjusts his support so that it is comfortable under his arm.
"I will see you soon, Adam"
"Yes you will, back at work. Oh, and Harry?" He stops and turns from the doorframe. "It was not your fault, so don't go thinking it was"
He manages a smile and continues on his slow limping walk back to his own room. The nurse looks at me.
"Those gun clubs are so dangerous" I heard her mutter as she took my temperature.