Chapter Fourteen: Out of the Heart of Darkness

Robin. Her dark eyes locked onto his. He knew what was coming next, but this time when she closed her eyes he kept his open. The shot being fired was the most horrific sound he had every heard and as the bullet passed from the back of her head, he watched as the blood and tissue spattered across the bench. He felt a spray of warm fluid hit him in the face. The coppery smell of death was overwhelming. He fought to hold his head up, but he was losing the battle. He was in agony. Pain seemed to fill his entire being and when the man turned the gun on him, he welcomed the feel of cold steel on his forehead. Shifting his eyes, he looked up at the man above him, the man determined to kill him.

Instead of the cold emotionless face of a killer, Charlie found himself looking at a young man in dark blue nurses' scrubs. The man was adjusting something next to the bed and never even looked back at him before he turned and exited his line of sight. He tried to speak, but the effort made him feel like he needed to throw up. Fighting through the haze and a tremendous sense of disorientation, Charlie looked around the room. He was unable to turn his head as far as he wanted to. It was as if it were being held in place by an unseen hand. He raised his arm to rub his face, but lifting his hand to his head took a monumental effort. The sight of the tube that was taped to the side of his wrist left Charlie wracking his brain, trying to remember what that was for. Had it always been there?

An all-encompassing sensation of discomfort kept radiating over his chest and there seemed to be a steady noise that accompanied this strange phenomenon. His eyes took in the machine next to him that seemed to be the source of the strange drone. Why was he hooked up to a machine?

This question was soon answered for him, when somewhere outside his room, a door was slammed and the sudden noise triggered a startling recollection. His dream. Robin. The memories surged over him and despite his efforts to control it; Charlie felt a sob rising in his chest. It had not been a dream, it was a nightmare.

Trying to calm himself down, Charlie took a deep breath….or tried to. He managed to catch the ventilator and almost choked on his own effort to consciously breathe. A mounting wave of panic washed over him and Charlie suddenly felt like he was suffocating. He was still lingering in the nightmare, but there was no waking up this time.

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Don's eyes flew open and in the semi-darkness he reached for his gun.

"Hey now. Take it easy."

A familiar voice pulled him the rest of the way out of his fitful attempt at sleep.

"Colby? Wha…..did something happen?"

The younger man shook his head and lowered himself onto the end of the couch opposite Don.

"No, no. I, um. I just wanted to see how he was doing. It's a little early yet and I didn't want to risk calling anybody."

"What time is it?"

"About four."

"AM?"

"Yeah, 'fraid so."

Don sat up on the edge of the couch and rubbed his face vigorously with his hands. His short, mercilessly dreamless sleep had done little to refresh his mind and now he had a ruthless crick in his neck.

Twisting his head from side to side in an attempt to pop the vertebra in his spine, Don turned and took in Colby's damp apparel and then glanced out the window at the steady rain that was still falling.

"What are you doing up at four am?"

Colby looked a little sheepish.

"Just got off the stakeout. We're covering those guys around the clock until we can get a positive ID on everybody who was there today. We've tailed about a half a dozen of the fellas that were ID'ed from the street shooting and the lobby. And we've been granted warrants for two of those new locations. But the primary target, this Escalón guy, hasn't shown up yet….so we're holding off."

He watched as Don swallowed hard and rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"We've got it covered, Don. He'll show, and then we'll take 'em."

Don pulled himself to his feet and stretched the kinks out of his back.

The nurse hadn't been completely honest about that couch.

"Coffee?"

Colby nodded quickly in agreement.

"That might be a good idea."

Heading down the stark beige hallway toward the elevator, they passed the glass panels that housed the Intensive Care Unit. A dark headed young man sitting at the Nurses' Station and nodded at them as they walked by.

"I see you got Alan to go home."

Colby reached the elevator first and hit the down arrow on the wall.

Don crossed his arms and leaned against the opposite wall, his eyes on the elevator numbers.

"Yeah, Larry and Megan took him home. Larry's going to stay….bring him back after he gets some sleep. I guess I should say 'tries' to get some sleep. I almost expected him to have come back by now."

"How is he handling ….….."

Colby stopped speaking as a small group of people in white coats rounded the corner and ran down the hall past them. When they flung open the doors to the ICU, he felt his heart sink.

Don stood stock still in the hallway looking towards the unit. His face had turned a ghastly shade of white and Colby was almost afraid he was going to pass out. Then, without warning, he took off at a dead run back towards the ICU.

The alarm on the ventilator was the first thing Don had a conscious perception of, followed by the increased pace of the beeping tones from the heart monitor. Charlie's bed was surrounded by hospital personnel in white coats and the crash cart that someone had pulled up next to the bed nearly stopped his own heart.

Not again.

The young man in blue scrubs turned and quickly exited the room, almost knocking Don over.

One of the doctors was speaking in a firm, commanding tone.

"Charlie, you have to slow down your breathing. You're on a ventilator. Just slow down and let the ventilator do the work."

Another voice rose above the din that surrounded Charlie's bed.

"We've lost the IV. Get his arms."

It took Don a minute to realize what was happening when he saw his brother's feet kicking off the warming blankets that had been covering him.

The doctor continued to speak, trying to get Charlie to stop thrashing.

"Charlie, you need to slow it down. The more you struggle the harder it's going to be to get the tube out."

When the young man in the blue scrubs rushed back into the room, holding a tray with a syringe, he again bumped into Don's shoulder. He was propelled forward slightly and was now able to see Charlie's face. His eyes were wide open and he was unquestionably terrified. Having woke up alone, on a breathing machine, Charlie had lashed out at the tubes and wires that were attached to his body. He had pulled his IV from his arm and the central line that had been working to replace his depleted blood supply was his next target. A young nurse was struggling with his arms as Charlie grappled for the tube that he perceived as a threat. She appeared to be unprepared for the strength a genuine panic attack could give someone, even in a weakened state. The dark headed nurse prepared the syringe he had brought in. It appeared they were going to have to sedate Charlie since they could not control him.

Don quickly stepped forward, pushing the young woman at the head of the bed roughly aside.

"Charlie. Hey. Calm down, Buddy. Calm down. You gotta stop breathing so fast."

Don grabbed his brother's arms and held his wrists together with one hand. The struggle continued as Charlie squeezed his eyes tightly shut.
"CHARLIE."

He took his free hand and grabbed his brother's chin.

"Charlie. They can't take the tube out until you slow it down. Now calm down. Look at me. Look at me, Charlie."

Charlie stopped turning his head from side to side and Don felt his arms begin to relax.

"Good. Let me see those eyes."

Charlie opened his eyes and looked up at Don. For a minute Don found his own arms grow weak.

"Hey, Buddy. There you are."

Several minutes passed in silence as they stared at each other. The steady hum of the machine next to the bed ceased and the doctor approached Charlie from the other side, looking at Don.

"We've shut the machine down and he's breathing fine on his own……..but I need to take this tube out. Can you hang on to him?"

Don nodded and the doctor turned to Charlie.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Charlie, this is gonna hurt. But I need to you to try to cough while I pull."

Charlie gagged as the doctor pulled the tube out of his throat, followed by several spasmodic coughs.

"You surprised us there, chap. We weren't expecting to see those brown eyes for a couple of days at least."

Charlie tried to maintain eye contact, but his lids began to droop and his head fell back on the pillow. He was, again, fighting hard to stay awake.

The doctor patted him on the knee.

"You get some rest and I'll see you again in the morning."

The doctor walked around the bed to stand next to Don.

"His throat may be sore from the tube, but it will go away in a day or two. He may also be a little hoarse, and it may hurt to talk for while, but that won't last long. It's not unusual for someone to be combative under these circumstances. He should have been in restraints. But like I said, he surprised us. He's likely to sleep for a while now. I'll get the nurse to switch him over to a self administered morphine drip when his next dose is due."

He gave Don an encouraging smile.

"This is a good sign. I'll be honest with you. We weren't expecting it."

He headed out the door where he paused to consult with his staff and Don saw Colby standing nearby in the hallway, listening in as discreetly as possible. The nurse who Don had pushed out of the way cautiously approached the head of the bed.

"Sir, I'm going to need to get that IV back in, if you could step outside for a…….."

"No way."

If looks could kill, the young woman in question would have dropped dead on the spot. Don released his brother's arms, so she could have access to the left one, which was still bleeding from where he had torn the IV from his wrist. He took Charlie's other hand firmly in his own.

"I'm not moving from this spot."

She opened her mouth to object, but thought better of it.

Colby stepped outside the doorway that lead into the ICU's hallway and flipped his cell phone open, dialing Megan's number. The fact that the sun had not yet risen was of little consequence.

"Megan? It's me."

"No, I'm at the hospital with Don. You need to get Alan over here."

"NO….no. Not that. Sorry. He...um...He just woke up."

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Authors Notes: As you can see - no homage to Conrad intended.

In the darkest of dark places, the smallest of lights can appear as bright as a thousand candles. Light...in the heart of absolute darkness. Hope where there was none.

I was feeling philosophical...nothing more.

And never, never pull your own IV out. That is bad on so many levels.

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Chapter Fifteen: And How is This Fair?