Rune Alignment

Chapter 42

"Hey! Sleeping Beauty, wake up," shouted Bishop.

Sledge rolled over, got up on one elbow and squinted down at his partner, "Jesus Christ, Bishop, take it easy. What time is it?"

"It's after eight, bright eyes, time to get moving. Fix yourself up and I'll get you some coffee."

"Yeah, yeah, coming. You'd make a bitch of a wife," he grumbled. Sledge shot his legs over the edge of the top bunk, slid his bottom off, and he landed with bent knees.

Bobby woke with Gleason's throw over his arms. His left hand was thumping and he had to pee. He rolled off the bed, sat on the edge, took two pain pills and one of the others, and went to the dresser for the business card Dr. Creighton had given him last night. Bobby picked up the phone and dialed. "I need to know how Gleason Wintermantle is. Yes, I'll wait." Bobby said a silent prayer as he waited for the desk nurse to get Gleason's nurse. "Yes, how is she?"

The nurse replied, "She came out of recovery at four eighteen a.m. and came directly to ICU; she had a quiet night, and is resting comfortably. She has a slight temp, and we're watching it closely."

"Ok. When would be a good time to visit her?"

"Visiting hours are around the clock in ICU; however, only one person can visit at a time and for only ten minutes. I'd wait till this afternoon before you come in."

"Thanks." Bobby hung up and rubbed his face with his right hand. Thank you, thank you, thank you, he prayed. He stood and walked into the bathroom and saw the seat down. Gleason.

Damn, he thought, fooling with his zipper; Bobby was a total left-hander. He started to hop in place in front of the toilet. Come on, he growled to himself. Finally, the zipper moved and he was able to take care of business. Ah, he uttered.

Bobby reached behind the shower curtain and turned on the water. How am I going to do this, he thought. I can't get this wet.

With his pants still open, holding them up with his right hand, he walked into the kitchen and found two plastic grocery bags, a rubber band and the roll of duct tape he kept in his toolbox at the bottom of the coat closet. He returned to the bedroom, still clutching up his jeans, and dropped everything on his bed. He pulled off the black tee shirt and threw it on the chair in the corner.

Bobby put his left hand into one bag and pulled the second one over it. He folded the ends of the bags tight against his skin, picked up the rubber band and worked to slip it over the bulge of the cast and bandage. He picked up the roll of duct tape and pulled loose a long strip with his teeth. He repositioned the tape between his teeth and ripped the strip from the roll. Carefully, he wrapped the strip of tape over the end of the bags, sealing it to his wrist. There, he thought, that should do it.

He stepped out of his jeans, pulled down his boxers with his right hand and stepped out of them. Then he stepped on the toe of his sock, pulled out his foot, and did the same with the other foot. Bobby bent and picked up the clothes from the floor and tossed them on the chair in the corner. He walked naked to the bathroom.

Eames knew she was a mess before she opened her eyes. Her face felt swollen, her nose a stuffy mess. She dreaded seeing herself. Worse than how she looked, however, her chest was a hollow casket. Her heart had been ripped out and she couldn't breathe.

Alex threw back the covers and stood up, turned and straightened the sheets and spread as she usually did – a habit from childhood. She walked to the bathroom and looked at herself. Oh, my, God, she said to herself, you look like you've been attacked by a swarm of bees. It was true, her eyes were so puffy, it looked like she'd had a bad reaction to something. The skin above and below them looked like it was full of water. It was thin, shiny and tight. Her cheeks were puffy and her nose was disgusting. I need to stay home today, she thought, I can't be seen like this. And I really don't want to see Bobby.

She stripped off her sleep shirt and panties and turned on the water in the shower. Stay home, she told herself, just stay home today; but I need to see Deakins. She thought again about her decision, about what she planned to say to the boss. Bobby will never be able to forgive me for siding with Sledge, she thought, not for convincing him to not pick up Elliott, the man who'd put three bullets in his lover's back, nearly killing her. Eames let the water run and went to the phone and looked up the number for Methodist General.

Sledge walked to his desk looking like a man dead three days. He had tried to clean up in the men's room. Some people can make it work in a sink, Sledge need a crew.

"Boy, you sure do not clean up pretty," Bishop said to her partner.

"Shut up. Where's my coffee?"

Bishop indicated with her pen. "We've got a lot to do today. Do you have a plan?"

Sledge took a sip of his coffee and shut his eyes in splendor, "You would make a semi-bitch of a wife."

Deakins walked over to the pair and said to Bishop, "How'd it go last night? Any word on the professor?"

"I called this morning when I got up, she had a quiet night. She was in recovery when we left at about quarter to twelve." Bishop looked down at her desk and hesitated a moment, then added, "Everyone was pretty wiped out. The stress was really high last night."

Deakins looked at Bishop for a second, I'll bet it was ugly, he thought. Then he turned to Sledge, slumped back in his chair, "Were you here all night?"

Sledge nodded and took another sip.

"Why don't you go home, clean up, get something to eat and then come back. You look a wreck."

"Nope, I'm good; too much to do today. Huang was here last night. He's finished the profile on the caller. He left the narrative, I think . . ." Sledge set down his cup and started searching the mess on his desk, couldn't find it and said, "Well, maybe not. He said he'd be over sometime this morning to give us his thoughts on this guy. Said he wanted to talk to all of us together."

"Speaking of all of us, where are Goren and Eames?" Deakins asked. Just at that moment, Eames came around the corner from the elevator, hair hanging down around her face.

"Here's Alex now," said Bishop. Man, she's hiding a night of crying I bet, she thought.

"Morning," Alex said, not looking at anyone, as she rounded to her desk.

The other three just looked at her. "So, what's up for today?" she asked, not making eye contact.

"When's Super Man due in," Sledge asked Alex.

Alex stopped flipping papers on her desk, hesitated just a moment too long and then said, "I have no idea."

The others passed a look around the group and then dispersed.

Bobby showed up an hour later. He wore a blue sweater over dark blue cargo pants with loafers, carrying his black leather jacket. He was unshaven. "I couldn't manage the buttons on a dress shirt, and forget tying a tie," he explained to Bishop who saw him coming off the elevator.

"How's the hand?"

"It hurts, but the pills work."

"Where's your sling?"

Bobby just looked at her.

"Well, you should take some time off," Bishop suggested as they reached his desk.

"No, I'm better off here." He hung his jacket on the coat tree.

Bishop looked over at Eames who was doing something on her laptop. Good luck today, guys, she silently wished them and walked back to her desk.

Eames glanced up at him and said, "Morning." Bobby ignored her.

Deakins walked over and saw Bobby's hand, "Is that from the men's room wall?"

Bobby looked surprised and barely glanced over at his soon-to-be ex-partner, "Yeah, sorry about that. Take it out of my pay," he said with genuine contrition.

"That's what insurance is for. How bad is it?"

"My hand or the wall?"

Deakins smiled and said, "Your hand."

"Two broken knuckles and skin damage."

"How long are you going to be right handed?"

"The estimate is five to six weeks. I don't know how I'm going to manage, it took me forever to get ready this morning. I hope the sweater and pants are ok for a while."

"Don't give it a thought. What about your weapon?"

Bobby looked anguished. "I can't shoot right hand. I had a heck of a time getting it off my belt last night with my right hand."

"Where is it now?"

"At home."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Bobby looked his boss in the eye, knowing what was coming.