It didn't matter which city or country – hell, even which continent. Hospitals were all the same. And John hated them.
It wasn't the fault of the friendly staff that bustled about doing an amazing, often unrecognised job. It wasn't even some clichéd smell that made him uncomfortable, for all hospitals had a different odour, a different brand of cleaner. It was more that he simply knew exactly what they were for and what was going on behind every closed door. He had seen enough of them, from both sides, and he just hated them.
Which made waiting in the small visitor area so much harder. His heart was pounding and his mouth dry, his adrenaline levels reaching what he was sure must be a dangerous level. He closed his eyes and tried to force his breathing to adopt a slow, steady rhythm. But it was near impossible.
And now he could well understand why so many visitors and anxious families would suddenly explode. It was the waiting, the not knowing and the imagining of the increasingly worsening worst. And the standard blank white walls and bad coffee did not help much.
He then heard a familiar name and opened his eyes. Turning towards the reception desk, he saw the surgeon and watched the man glance his way. The greying man smiled and headed straight over.
"Mr Fraser."
John stood and shook his outstretched hand. "(How is she?)"
"(Your wife will be fine.)" The doctor began, indicating the seats beside them.
John breathed a sigh of relief and sat down with him.
"(The bullet missed all the major organs and we've repaired the damage. She lost a lot of blood and we gave her blood and plasma during the surgery but we'll need to keep her here for a few days.)"
John closed his eyes and let his head fall into his hands.
The surgeon placed a hand on John's shoulder and waited patiently for a moment.
John took a deep breath and lifted his head with a grateful smile. "(When can I see her?)"
"(She'll be asleep for a few hours yet. She was a little agitated when she started to come round and we had to sedate her for her own safety.)"
John frowned in concern.
"(It's quite normal after a trauma such as this. With the blood loss and shock.)" The surgeon smiled kindly, "(I used to be in the army. Believe me, I know.)"
John nodded quietly.
"(The best thing you can do is get cleaned up and have something to eat. She is being well cared for.)" The surgeon stood and nodded a farewell.
John thanked him and watched him leave. He sat for a moment in stunned, post panic numbness and let the good news slowly sink in. It was then that he realised that his clothes were bloodied and his hands darkly stained. He stood and went in search of somewhere to have a wash.
The visitor's toilets were empty and John took his time to soap up his hands and then saw in the mirror that he also had blood on his face. He wiped away the stains and then examined his jumper and jeans. Maybe Henry would be able to bring him in some clean clothes later. After he had completed the mission.
John checked his watch and frowned in thought. It was a little after eight. The meeting was at seven. With a sigh, he hoped Henry had been able to get some good information and would call soon.
And then suddenly it hit him. Like a wave, the nausea rose and threatened. It slowly receded but left an awful feeling in it's wake; the knowledge that all of this really was not worth it. Not losing Alex over.
He placed his hands on the sink and leaned on his arms. Holding his breath, he looked up into his pale, tired face and hardly recognised himself. The dark hair, the thin beard, the obvious cheekbones. He was staring back at a stranger. And he found himself wondering what it was that Alex saw.
John marched determinedly from the bathroom and hurried down to the ground floor of the large hospital and headed for the shop. He bought a razor and shaving foam and wondered whether to add some flowers into the mix. Deciding they would probably be more appropriate later, he made his way to the till and suddenly froze.
Of all places. There they were. In a Ukranian hospital, in the middle of almost nowhere and years out of date. He reached out and picked up the two soft toys. They were not the best versions and would have perhaps seemed more than a little naff at any other time. But not now.
John paid for his selections and headed back to the lifts. He got no further than the chairs outside the shop and suddenly erupted into helpless tears. His body trembling and his head pounding, he collapsed into one of the chairs and clutched at the two soft toys.
A few people stopped and stared. One kind lady sat with him and asked him something about children. He managed a shake of his head and she moved on, glancing back at him in concern as she rejoined her family.
After a few minutes the tears began to fade and the weeping became soft whimpering to none other than himself. He managed to stand and was aware of the shopkeeper watching him in intrigue as he walked away.
XXXXX
John started suddenly awake and groaned as dull pain shot up the side of his neck. He rubbed at the ache and sat up straight in the chair, slowly getting his bearings and his heart rate settling as his mind realised that whatever had frightened him had evidently been dreamt.
Alex was still asleep. He sat forward and rolled his head around to free up the nerve that had been caught from lying awkwardly. With a frown, he reached out and stroked her hair back from her face.
She was lying on her side, her limbs gently positioned in a recovery pose beneath the sheet. A gentle breeze from the fan ruffled the white linen and her tangled hair as it swept across the room and tried to cool the air around her feverish body. The nurse had said it was normal after such a large transfusion and because of the dirt dragged through her by the bullet. They were giving her anti-pyrexia drugs and had explained that the strange iridescent yellow fluid in the IV was an antibiotic.
John sighed in dismay and continued to stroke her hair, his fingers catching on the nasal oxygen tube that was tucked behind her ear. She was sound asleep. Too dosed up to even know that he was there. But he certainly wasn't going anywhere.
A gentle buzzing then alerted him to an incoming call and he pulled his phone from his pocket. Standing and moving over by the window, he offered a quiet greeting.
"How is she?" Henry asked quickly.
"Good." John replied.
Henry sighed in relief. "The meeting was a big success." He then offered.
John closed his eyes.
"Ustin played his role perfectly and managed to subtly identify all the voices heard in the recording. I've played it back a few times and we've got some good leads."
John nodded.
"John?"
"Yeah." John cleared his throat, "Go on?"
"We already had most of the key players and they didn't say anything new. But Red Dawn have apparently gone public. They've claimed responsibility for the hijack of your ships and the sabotage of the Ventura US test."
"Really?"
"Yeah." Henry enthused, "Apparently, they're some far out old school motherland nutcases. They wanted a Russian ship to get up there first. Never mind that it's the same bloody ships."
John pondered this for a moment.
"I can't see the link between you guys and this space project yet but Ustin thinks you guys were being warned off at first and then used as a diversion for all the shit over here."
John frowned. "I hope it's as simple as that."
"Hmm. Ustin said Red Dawn have released a press statement so I guess that'll be on the news tonight."
"And Trangh?"
"Yeah. On the recordings, they keep mentioning their secret investor or something. The guy that funded them. If Trangh is loaded then he might be our guy."
"Or maybe he's using the funds gathered for Red Dawn's efforts?"
"I dunno. I'll have another listen."
"And the police?"
"Not interested." Henry affirmed, "They'll question you guys as a matter of routine and they're on the look out for the guy we gave them. Seemed to think it was obvious what had happened and said it was probably mistaken identity or some such thing. Said this happens out here sometimes. You're safe."
"For now."
"Yeah. Okay, I'd best be on it. Call me if there's anything?"
"You too."
"G'night."
John closed his phone and looked out at the dark sky. He glanced at his watch and frowned in thought. He could go find a TV somewhere and see if there was any news. Wishing he'd grabbed the laptop and hoping Henry looked after it well, he settled back into the chair.
With nothing else to do, he closed his eyes and leaned back into the chair, his mind buzzing.
"… ay …?"
John opened his eyes just a moment later and frowned at Alex. He sat upright and slipped his fingers into the hand that rested below her face. With his other hand, he stroked her cheek and watched her face slowly react.
Alex frowned slightly and her dry lips parted with another whisper. "Babe?"
"Hey …" John squeezed her fingers and smiled in relief.
"Babe."
"Yeah … I'm here." He moved his chair closer and pressed the back of her fingers to his lips. "Hiya."
Alex's eyes blinked open and searched the room, out of focus and the pupils wide from sedation and painkillers. "Baby?" She asked a little more clearly.
"It's okay. Shh." John stood and placed a kiss on her hot forehead. "I'm here, babe."
Alex murmured and squeezed his hand.
John kissed her again and watched her calm. He remembered back to the hospital in London and how he had lain sore and confused and she had climbed into the bed with him. With a smile, he leaned down and rested his forehead on her shoulder, wishing that they were anywhere else. Even back to there. In that moment, he had suddenly felt so safe.
Alex began to fidget in the bed and groaned softly. "Baby?"
John leaned back from her and watched her in concern as she frowned and gave another groan. "I'm here." John urged, "Right here. What's wrong?"
"Babe." Alex sighed. She moved her free hand down the bed and over her abdomen.
"You in pain, honey?" John gasped and reached up towards the nurse call bell.
"No." Alex closed her eyes and her face crumpled, tears spilling onto her cheeks. When she then looked back up at him, she was focused and calm. "Baby."
John turned his head and saw her fingers stroking her abdomen and it seemed the world was suddenly torn from under his feet.
Tbc …