AN: I am so happy you seem to be enjoying it so far. I love the responses I've received! This chapter has some reflection of the kids, some explanation of more injuries Maggie has, and the beginning of the next huge event. Thank you to those of you who reviewed last chapter. It was a big one and I appreciate it more than you could know. Happy New Year! Enjoy!
OA's POV~
Not long after our talk, we called for the doctor who gave Maggie something stronger for the pain. She tried to fight it, but was clearly suffering. She drifted off, and I was lost in thought.
I can't believe we kissed. It was perfect, simple, but a line I don't think we should have crossed. What will this mean for us? Does it mean anything? Or was it an in-the-moment action that we will put behind us and not talk about again? Am I okay to not talk about it again? It feels so unreal. I haven't even had a chance to think about how I was feeling before it happened. Maggie being gone, being taken from me, has caused all kinds of emotions to form and bubble up. I don't know if they are just because of the situation or if this situation was what forced these feelings to the surface.
As always, I'm probably just over thinking things. I do that. A lot. But what if Maggie regrets it? I don't, but should I? So complicated.
I hear Maggie coughing again- it seems to get worse each time. I know it's the anthrax. The doctor warned us about this. Breathing will become a challenge for her. Almost impossible, even. She may need the breathing tube again. She was not excited about that.
The doctor comes into our bubble, as Maggie calls it. He checks her monitors and listens to her breathing. He is deep in thought. When he finishes he comes around to the other side of the bed to where I'm sitting.
"Her lungs are getting worse. Within the next few hours we will need to take another X-ray to monitor the spread. I've upped her does of antibiotics, so she is already receiving the highest dose she can. Since you refuse to go to your own room, try to keep her calm if she wakes. That's the most important things we can do right now." He pauses for a moment. "Your last test just came back. It looks like you are okay to leave. I'll get your discharge papers filled out."
"Can you just hold off on that for a little while?" I ask. "I need more time."
He looks at me for a moment. "There are some other things I have to do. It might be awhile before I can get to any paperwork."
I give the good doc a small smile before he walks out the door.
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Maggie's POV~
I dream of the kiss. It's mostly good, living in the moment. Other parts are bittersweet as my thoughts return to my husband. I miss him dearly, will always love him, but I can't deny something is happening with OA. I don't know what, don't know what it means, but it's there. And I don't know how it makes me feel. Happy, guilt, scared. All of the above, I guess.
But then I'm coughing, coughing, coughing so hard it pulls me from the dream. I'm tying to pull air into my lungs but I'm having a hard time. Each breath is agony to my broken ribs which makes breathing even more difficult. A vicious cycle.
OA is next to me, trying to keep me calm. I want to tell him to mind his own damn business, that the last thing someone wants to hear when they are worked up is 'calm down.' But I don't, because I can't. Then his hand is on my back holding me up. I must have sat up on my own to ease the cough and not even realized. It's hard to focus. I'm glad he's still here with me and not in his own part of the bubble.
The doctor comes in and listens to my breathing and my heart. OA sits back down in his chair and observes. The doctor's brow is furrowed, and I know he is trying to decide on the best course of action.
"I'm going to have to intubate soon," he says looking empathetic.
"Not yet," I choke out, "please."
He nods, saying he can wait a little longer. As I begin to catch my breath and my coughing begins to subside, he heads to the door, my clipboard in hand.
I look at OA. He looks well, his breathing normal, easy. "I'm getting worse," I say. He nods but doesn't speak. "You're not," I finish. His eyes close just for a moment, pain crossing his face. It's gone in a flash, but gone too late. I saw it. I realize now why he's been allowed to stay with me instead of in his own bed, why the doctor is leaving him alone rather than checking his heart and ability to breathe.
"You're not sick, are you." It's not a question, really, and not an accusation. Actually, I'm so thankful he's okay. Thankful he stayed, again, by my side. Wondering why he had.
He doesn't answer. Just looks at his hands. I'm still sitting on my bed so I reach out my hand. He takes it in his and our fingers interlock. I pull him gently so he stands from his chair and moves to sit beside me on the bed. He looks at me then. "I didn't want to leave. I don't think I could stand it. I need to know you are fine."
I get it. I would feel the same if our position were reversed.
"OA," I start, a cough interrupting. "I need you to know something." I'm coughing again so I have to stop. He hands me a glass with a little water, and I drink it thankfully. I'm looking at my hands again as he takes the empty glass and sets it back on the table.
"I've been thinking a lot about what happened earlier, and thinking about you, too, if I'm honest." I feel my cheeks turn hot and red at the confession. I keep my eyes down. It's all so new, so raw. Without talking about it, it's too much on top of everything else.
He smiles a little and nods. "Same. Weird, huh? The whole thing?"
Again I'm thankful it's him, thankful he has a knack to prevent this from becoming too terribly awkward. I'm grateful for the shift that allows us to talk openly.
"I just need you to know that I still miss my husband, that I still love him, will always love him. But you're here, too, and I'm so torn..."
He smiles at me again, reassuring me that he understands, that he gets it. "Mags, whatever happens or doesn't happen, no one should ever expect to take his place. He's a part of you, has helped shape you into the person you are. Anyone who expects something different doesn't deserve you. And, just in case you haven't figured it out, I care about you. A lot. After almost losing you, I'm not so afraid." He is so matter of fact, so open with his feelings that I can't deny something has changed. This whole situation has brought us closer together, has added to our partnership, to something more?
There is nothing I can say. Nothing to express how I'm feeling, which is good because I suddenly can't breathe. I'm doing everything I can to suck in oxygen, but my lungs won't cooperate. OA is calling for help, grabbing my hand, telling me I'll be okay.
The doctor comes running in. He grabs a tube to intubate and lays the bed back so it's flat. A nurse follows behind him.
"Don't fight me, Agent, okay? Just let it in," he calls before he is inserting the tube down my throat. I gag, but try not to fight it. I see the nurse out of the corner of my eye and she is pushing something into my IV. Even though I know it's irrational, I feel myself panic as I return to the events in the basement. I turn as best I can to look at OA. Our eyes and fingers lock. I'm fine. I'm safe. I'm with OA. I'm not in the basement, and the man, Jose, is under arrest. I'm okay. Sleep pulls me under.
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OA's POV~
Thinking of Maggie's confession gives me butterflies. Me. Butterflies. And I'm surprised by my confession back. What is happening with us? I'm saying things I never thought I would say. There is just so much at play here that I don't know what to do. But it doesn't matter because her condition continues to deteriorate. I'm looking at this woman in front of me who has already overcome so much, but she just can't get a break. Her lungs are incredibly week, scans show increased damage and we are not even at the worst yet. Things could continue to go downhill for a few days.
I feel useless. Again. It's only been an hour or so since they intubated Maggie. I just want to help her get better. But with her injuries, a recent surgery, and this anthrax, there is nothing I can do. Her body has to fight, she has to fight. Hard. She needs to come back to us, back to me.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The doctor entering our bubble wakes me from my restless sleep. He looks concerned- never a good sign. He walks over to me and starts to quietly inform me of what he's discovered.
"Because Agent Bell was exposed to both inhalation anthrax when she breathed it in and cutaneous anthrax through her cuts and other wounds, we have more to worry about. The sores and black scabs that are beginning to appear near her wounds will continue to develop, but shouldn't get much worse; however, I ran some tests earlier this morning because of the inhalation. It turns out that Agent Bell has anthrax meningitis. This occurs in about 50% of these patients and is extremely serious. Normally, there is a mortality rate of 96%, but we caught it very early and can give a strong course of antibiotics. I am hopeful that she will recovers from this, as well."
I'm just starting at him trying to understand what he is saying. 96% mortality? And that's on patients who aren't already fighting for their life. I don't understand how she can survive, but know she has to. She has to make it.
"Also, Agent," he continues, "I finished discharging you-"
"No!" I say loudly.
He holds his hands up in front of him in attempt to calm and quiet me. "Just listen. I just wanted you to know you are allowed to leave. My boss was starting to get suspicious. But, I'm not going to make you leave. You've been here three days. Maybe you want to leave to clean up, change your clothes. Now is a good time to do that. Maggie has been intubated for 12 hours and it's going to worse before it will get better so she won't be waking up any time soon. I'll even let you back in here when you return. It's just a suggestion."
He looks at me for a moment, then turns to leave. I watch him go wondering if he's right, but I can't leave her again. Last time I did that, Maggie was taken and tortured. I promised I'd stay, So I will.
I go the the enclosed bathroom that is connected to our bubble long enough to splash water on my face and change into clothes Jubal brought me this morning now that I'm longer putting up the act of needing treatment. It feels good to be out of the hospital clothes and I'm thankful to have something else to wear even if it is just an extra set I keep in my work locker.
There's something else in the bottom of my bag underneath my sweatshirt. My fingertips connect with the cold metal and I know instantly that he brought me my gun. My badge is here, too. There's also a small piece of paper. I unfold it and read his writing scribbled across the lines. 'I know you're healthy. Since you are staying with her, keep her safe.' He must also know this might not be over. There are more Zetas, more angry people who may try to do something in retaliation since they still don't have what they want. While it's possible they will move on and try for other weapons, it's also possible they won't, that their hearts are set on the Javelins. Thankful yet again for Jubal, I tuck the gun into my waist band at my back.
Feeling better, I leave the bathroom and sit beside Maggie's bed. Jubal or Dana or maybe even Kristen will be back soon to see how she's doing. In the meantime, this is where I'll be. I'm not going anywhere.
BREAK~
Later today I leave the hospital to go to an infirmary while I'm held until my first hearing or until I'm healthy enough to be put away. I know it won't go well for me, and there's no way out. I'm still cuffed to the bed and have an officer or two outside my room 24/7.
I look up when I hear a tray of some sort hit the floor in the hallway. I have to double-take because walking past my room is another Zeta, Ed. I almost don't believe it, but we make eye contact for a moment which tells me he's here for me. He passes my room completely, but I soon hear a loud commotion in the hallway. There's shouting and then I hear a gun. One, two, three rounds. There's screaming and I hear a body slide to the floor. Ed strolls in, smile on his face, and keys in hand. He throws them to me. I'm uncuffed, and he helps me stand despite the pain in my shoulder. I pull the IV out of my arm and press down to stop the bleeding.
"Let's go," he says walking to the door. He looks out both ways, gun raised, before heading into the hall.
"Wait!" I say as I pull on my pants.
"What?" he cries out to me, looking at me in disbelief.
"There's something here I have to do. I need a gun."
I'm staring at him as he thinks about what I said. Finally he nods, pulls another gun from his waistband and hands it to me. "But I'm not waiting. You're on your own."
Then he's gone and I'm out the door, too. The officer who was guarding me is now dead on the floor. A security guard comes around the corner, but I shoot him before he can shoot me. I get to the nurse's station and point my gun at one who is hiding.
"Stand up," I order.
She does and I'm barking more orders at her quickly.
She gives me the information I need and I'm off down the hall headed to the fifth floor toward where I know Maggie is hiding.
AN: Just when you thought it was over, there's more. I hope you are still enjoying. The next chapter will be big in a lot of ways. I'm excited to hear what you thought of this chapter. Please review!