- - - - - - - - Free - - - - - - - -
The first thing Seth was aware of was an unbearably tight feeling in his throat. Could he breathe? The thought sent a wave of panic through his chest, causing him to immediately try to sit up.
Pain racked his entire body from out of nowhere. Hands restrained him with more strength than he possessed. A familiar voice said, "Go get the doctor!" and then tried to calm him with soothing tones. Seth found he couldn't respond. Whatever was in his throat seemed to fill his mouth as well. He realized his eyes were open, focusing ever so slowly on a white-garbed man who had just leaned in close.
"Seth? Can hear me?" the man asked. "I need you to raise your right thumb if you can."
Seth did his best.
"Good, now blink your eyes."
Again, he obeyed.
"Okay, do you want me to remove the oxygen tube?"
You stuck a what all the way down my throat? Seth nodded as enthusiastically as possible. The sensation was every bit as disgusting as the idea sounded. Once it was gone, though, he coughed and struggled to breathe even more than before.
"Listen to me, Seth. You've got to calm down before you hurt yourself worse."
He couldn't help it. The confusion was terrifying when the last thing he clearly remembered was a psycho bent on killing him. A clear object pressed around his mouth and nose; he couldn't shake it off. Breathing became only a little easier.
"Seth, sweetheart, you're safe again. I'm here." A woman's face swam into view, and a cool hand touched his forehead. The sight was too much. Seth felt tears trickle around the mask on his own battered face.
"Mom…" Feeling what little strength he'd had drain away, he let her gently cradle him for a couple minutes. He was back. The insanity was over. His initial panic was ebbing away, finally allowing him to be free of the hard mask…only to have it replaced by more, smaller tubes, this time in his nose. "Aww, enough already with the ER stuff," he groaned hoarsely.
"I wish that were the case, but the 'ER stuff' isn't over, I'm afraid," said the man in the white coat, whom Seth could now tell was the doctor. "You've got three broken ribs, a concussion, and various other injuries. Just try to relax. Whatever the CIA's trying to keep quiet, you sure took a beating for it."
Took a beating for…wait a minute! "Where's Reese?" Seth asked, making another failed attempt to sit up out of sudden concern. Several seconds passed before the pain receded enough for him to breathe normally again. "Is she—okay? They didn't let—Trenton—"
"Shh, shh, it's okay. She's here too," his mom interrupted. She started finger-combing his matted hair, in that annoying way that mothers tend to do. Over her shoulder, Zoe was peeking nervously at him.
"But where is she?"
"Seth, keep your voice down. She's on the other side of this curtain. Asleep. Debriefing to her supervisor this morning got her worked up again, so she's sedated. Other than that and some minor things, though, she'll be fine."
The green curtain was pulled aside, and Reese's slight form appeared, curled into a ball in the neighboring bed. White butterfly bandages, barely seen on one cheek, and a pair of crutches propped against the wall were the only plain signs of injury. Then she rolled over in her sleep. Bruises covered much of her face and the arm that was bared—Seth figured he probably similarly colorful—a testament to what they'd gone through for each other and his dad's work.
"What…what happened after Shane got there? Reese fought back some, and then Trenton knocked me off my chair. An' he wouldn't stop kicking…" Seth winced, feeling the memory even through the thick bandages around his chest. His mom and Zoe were both in tears again.
"Shane stalled 'im, son," the doctor answered. "Drew the boy back to the truck, from what I heard. Then he managed to keep 'im from shooting you before…before…" The grim man glanced over his shoulder, as if searching for words to appear out of thin air.
"What happened, sir?" Seth realized he was shaking slightly. Was he afraid to know the answer?
"She…Reese…I probably shouldn't be repeating any of this. Bottom line is the nutcase kid's dead. I don't know what's going on, and I don't want to know. That's how I take these cases. But it's hit her pretty hard; I wouldn't be surprised if it were a case of—"
"—Stockholm's Syndrome, yeah," Seth chimed in. Trenton, dead? The last pieces fell chillingly into place. He knew Reese had to be capable of a lot, but he couldn't quite imagine her actually killing anyone. It must have been beyond reasoning for her to do what she did, especially given who she had done it to. How was she coping now? Would she ever be herself again?
"In any case," the doctor broke through his thoughts, "you should be resting as much as possible for the next couple of days. We have to let those ribs heal some before we risk moving you around too much. If you have trouble falling asleep, just call the nurse and she'll bring you something for it. Let's not repeat today's episode."
"No, that's okay," yawned Seth. "I've been having to figh—fight off sleep just to hear everything." And before anyone else could reply, he drifted off once more.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Do they have to watch me 24/7? Seth thought groggily. He was so barely awake that he hadn't even moved yet, but there was definitely someone close by. Whoever it was, they were humming softly. It took Seth a few seconds to realize it was "Santa Fe."
"Hey stranger," a gentle voice said as he stirred. "I heard you made quite a fuss earlier. Kovey is what we call 'the agent doctor;' he's patched me up loads of times without a hitch. He knows not to ask questions."
Seth opened his eyes. The room was dim with early morning light, and Reese was smiling down at him, wearing her black jacket over her hospital gown. Concern for what he'd been told before leapt up in his chest. "How're you doing? I heard about…what you did." He stopped as her smile became visibly more difficult to hold.
"Better. I met with a counselor today who said she'd work with me on how to deal with this stuff. Some of the shock's worn off now. Plus, I have you to think about." She rested her hand over his, the bruise from her freshly removed IV still visible. "I don't think I could have stayed sane if Trenton had killed you, no matter how I felt about him. And I wouldn't have gotten the courage to fight in the first place without help." Her real smile returned.
Seth blushed. "I just wanted you to be free to be yourself."
"That's not much of an argument."
Seth couldn't resist chuckling, though the effort was painful. Recovery looked long and boring if he couldn't even laugh. "So, I guess you'll be going home soon, since you're up and about. Back to normal life an' all."
"Sort of. I sprained my ankle when Trenton threw me, and between the counselor and sorting out how much of this I'm accountable for, it could be awhile before things really settle down. You actually won't be stuck here as long as you think," she added, apparently catching his disappointment. "They'll make sure you're healing right, and then let you recover at home."
"You sure?"
"I've broken a few ribs before. Trust me."
"Okay, I get it," Seth gave in, smiling. The atmosphere seemed to close in with the turn of subject: going home. "Uh, Reese? Speaking of homes, have you thought anymore about staying here?"
Reese's buoyant mood slowed considerably. "I haven't, really. Most of my energy has been focused on how you were doing and not losing my mind over what I did. And to be honest, I don't know what I want. It's like I'm split between two worlds. All I've dreamed of for years is a normal, settled life. A chance for a real family. But after all those years, this life is what's become a part of me. It's how I've learned and survived and set standards by. Look at my track record. It took two months and a double-crossing, life-threatening hostage situation to get me to tell you everything. I don't…I'm just not sure I'll fit in anymore," she finished woefully.
"You have theatre."
"I had theatre. Then acting became a part of real life. Don't you see? Can I trust myself to separate me from any other character I play? It's too easy. Too easy to be what someone wants so they can be happy. Too easy to hurt people like you, Seth, just looking for an honest relationship." She sighed. "I don't know if there's even anything of 'me' left."
"Yeah, there is," Seth countered, ignoring the sting of her confession. "I know this doesn't solve the dilemma, but I saw the real you come out doing the things you love most: brilliant acting and brilliant casework. So you're really, really good at acting. You took the first step when you plugged in here. Shane and Claire know you…and I know you. You're not alone anymore. All you have to do is let us be there for you."
Reese bit her lip.
"I understand if there are sometimes missions like this one, where they need someone who can blend in with a younger crowd. But how many jobs like that come up versus ones that could be done by an adult? Even the best agents can't do it all."
Their gazes locked in silence for a long time. Reese's expressive eyes betrayed the fierce tug-of-war raging behind them. It was also through those eyes that Seth saw his answer. He grinned.
"You'll fit in, I promise. Did I mention half the school hailed your performance in Newsies as one of the best since the program started eight years ago?"
The girl's eyebrows arched. "Only half? What did the others say?'
"Well, let's face it. We still have to make it easier for the other half to see how much Shauna has done with the place. We'll convert more with the next show."
"That's good, at least," Reese giggled in spite of herself. She started to get up, grabbing her crutches, then stopped. "Seth, I want to thank you, for everything. Overused as the phrase is, I'd probably be dead if it weren't for you. Really, I would be. Trenton let slip in an argument that once he had the computer, there would be no need for…inside jobs. He would have gotten rid of me in the end whether he was cornered or not."
"Anything to help." Seth couldn't stop looking into her eyes. So much experience for a sixteen-year-old. And yet the fact that they still had years to learn and grow together was amazing. He settled for squeezing her hand this time; there would be other moments for more.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Okay, let's take it from the top of the scene one more time, and then we'll call it a day," Shauna announced to the auditorium. Everyone hurried to places. Reese found the going slow on crutches, especially considering her character. Of all things—she and Seth had relatively healed up in time for Christmas, which was great. Now it was nearly March, and the weather had decided to spit out one last cold snap, leaving ice in such places as back steps. She'd fallen and broken her ankle for real! But Lost in Yonkers didn't open for another month, by which time she could lose the crutches again. She'd make it in one piece—one way or another.
Seth kindly retrieved her bookbag from the seats while Reese told Shauna about the next doctor's appointment. He'd kept his word about helping, which was nice considering they were still the talk of the school. The media had uncovered large portions of the incident's inner details, and in no venue but a school does news travel faster. Luckily, Reese's personal connections had remained strictly private.
Although not happy about the double-role Reese had played, Tanner's surrogate-parent affection for her kept him from coming down too hard. She would remain inactive for now, and he would keep an eye on her in addition to Shane and Claire, now legally her guardians. The tough supervisor was a frequent addition to mealtimes at the Wolfe residence.
"Come on, Reese. Shane's going to wonder where we are," Seth called. Despite this warning and the crutches, though, Shane had not beaten them to their pick up spot. But someone else had.
Two men, one silver-haired and serious, the other younger and showing considerably more bravado, approached them almost immediately.
"Federal agents," said the first man, flipping his badge. "We need to ask you a few questions about a friend of yours."