A/N: We're on the wind down now. I imagined this as a little story, much shorter than Collateral Damage - now it looks as though it's going to turn out at least as long. Oh, well.
The second part of this contains a lot of scientific jargon which hopefully doesn't weigh it down too much, but it's Charlie's POV, so what can you do? Also, I only did the research for those facts and edited them to accommodate the story, adding Charlie's reflections. The science and their explanations are the work of much smarter people than myself.
Chapter 21
"FBI!" Megan stood with her gun extended, eyes scanning the hallway. She gestured to the living room with her head, and Colby moved toward the open arch. David touched her arm and jerked his thumb at a piece of paper taped askew to the back of the door. Megan nodded grimly, lips pressed tight together. Here's hoping that's not prophetic. She looked down the hall in the opposite direction of the living room, flinched at the blood stains disfiguring the wall and floor.
"We're in here!"
Megan's brows rose and she glanced at David. "Charlie?" she called. Well, that would explain why Charlie wasn't waiting outside…or answering his phone…she couldn't decide if she was relieved or furious. Both, maybe. Better find out a little more about the situation, Reeves, and decide then…we could still have a hostage situation here…she moved silently down the hall, trying not to disturb any evidence. David shadowed her.
"'Stz all clear, Megan - stand down…"
Moisture filled her eyes at the surprise of that voice. Until this moment, she hadn't realized just how unsure she'd been of ever hearing it again. "Don?" Still, she kept her gun up. You just never knew…
"…yeah…"
She glued herself to one side of the door, gun muzzle poking through the doorway. David echoed her, out of sight on the other side of the doorframe. She took in the room, trying to make sense of things. "Well…" she lowered the gun slowly. "David, check that room across the hall…just in case?" David nodded and disappeared across the hall.
Colby appeared at the entrance to the living room, shooting her a questioning look when he saw the position of her gun. "Nothing in the living room or kitchen…"
"Yeah. All the action seems to be right here."
Don gave a faint snort. "What…action…? You guys…missed…all the action…"
"Yeah - I see that." Megan holstered her gun and stepped carefully across the threshold. "Colby, call the EMTs waiting downstairs and give them the all clear - tell them we need them up here. David, we need a crime scene unit, too…"
Charlie lifted his head. "You brought an ambulance…? That's good…how'd you know…?"
"Well, there was your description of the blood all over the hallway - seemed like a good precaution - " she was having trouble trying to decide where to look first.
"I meant to call one…"
"Yeah…" Megan crouched next to him. "From downstairs, outside the building, along the curb, right…?" She tugged gently on the blanket clutched in his whitened fingers, trying to get a look.
Charlie blinked. "Oh." He frowned. "I - um - "
"Exigent…circumstances…" Don's words slurred, but Megan knew what he was trying to tell her - to leave this to him.
"I see." She studied his battered face and smiled slightly, running a light finger over his swollen cheekbone. "You - uh - didn't happen to get the number of the cement truck that spit you out, did you?"
Don tried to grin, groaned at the resulting pang. "Number and…driver…"
Colby shoved his phone back on his belt and bent over Soames, who was beginning to stir. "They're on their way up. I wouldn't move if I was you, pal - somebody like me might take it as an excuse to clock you…"
"Are you hurt, Charlie?"
Charlie seemed to have a death grip on his blanket. He frowned at her again, then shook his head.
Don tried to lift an arm to get her attention, but it only budged an inch or so. "…shocky…" he whispered.
She smiled slightly. "You talking about you or him? I think we'll have the EMTs look you both over."
There was the sound of voices and banging and footsteps and David started back down the hall. "I'll let them in."
"They better have a look at this guy, too." Colby pressed back to his feet, admiring the rising bump on the back of Soames' shaved skull. "What did you hit him with, anyway?"
"…my…head…" Don muttered.
Megan was trying to give him a surreptitious examination and it was making her a little ill, but her smile broadened at that. "Wow. Did you have to use something so hard? He could really be hurt."
"Ha…ha," Don grumbled.
Charlie opened his eyes at her and frowned, then closed them again.
"Just try and watch where you're stepping…" David's voice carried down the hall. "We're trying to preserve the evidence until…" he was interrupted by a sharp knocking. "…that must be them. Go right in there…"
An EMT carrying a heavy gear box stopped dead in the doorway. "Wow. Looks like we're gonna need a couple of gurneys - " he glanced over his shoulder to his partner. "You wanna take the guy in cuffs, and I'll check these two out? What have we got?"
Megan rose to meet him. "I don't know much, yet. I'm told this one is shocky - " she brushed Charlie's shoulder, " - and I'm guessing this one - " she let her eyes skim over the blood-clotted baseball bat lying on the floor by the closet, "was hit with - that. Don, did he use the bat?"
Don squirmed. "…sometimes…"
"Can you tell the EMT what else?"
Don half-opened one eye and looked at Charlie.
The EMT misinterpreted the look and patted Charlie on the shoulder. "Can you hold on while we look this guy over?"
"I - I'm not hurt," Charlie repeated stubbornly. "I already said that. How's - how's Don?"
"Well, we're gonna find out." The EMT reached for a small flashlight, gently running his thumb over Don's swollen eyelid. "Nice eye. How'd that happen?"
"Dunno…" Despite the light touch, Don shifted away from him, then blinked when the thin light shone in his other eye. "Him, maybe…or…when I hit the floor…"
"Uh-huh. I'm going to cover it until the doc can have a look." His fingers moved to a growing swelling near the hairline, then slid carefully between the blood-stained pillow slip and Don's head. "What's back here?" Don's lips parted, but no sound came out. His good eye widened, then rolled. "Whoa - " The EMT groped for his kit and snatched up a blood pressure cuff. "Try and stay with me - ?"
"What did you do?" Charlie glared at him. "Don - " Charlie leaned forward for a better look. "You're not supposed to hurt him!"
"Yeah - okay - " The EMT gently pushed Charlie back against the bed. "You just relax for a minute. Hey, Mario? How you doing over there?"
"Nothing life threatening here that I can see - vitals seem good. Two nice lumps, though - forehead and back. Probably want a CAT scan."
"This guy too. Bet there's a heck of a story here." He poked at a pair of handcuffs lying nearby and Megan intercepted his hand.
"Don't touch anything you don't have to, please? The Crime Scene Unit will work in here as soon as you're done."
"Right." The EMT turned Don's wrist this way and that, searching for an uninjured spot to take a pulse, then settled on his neck instead. "Mario, if you're not needed there, can you come over here and give this guy a look? I want to call in this one's vitals and see about getting him on a line - maybe both Ringer's and blood - but somebody should have a look at the other one."
"Sure." Mario gathered his gear, nodding to Colby, still kneeling next to Soames. "Can you keep an eye on him for any changes?"
Colby grinned wolfishly. "My pleasure."
"Down, boy - " Megan called, gripping Don's shoulder when he jumped at the squeeze of the blood pressure cuff. "We do this one by the book - I don't want to give him any loophole to slip through. In fact, I think I'm going to call Gretski to get down here and oversee the crime scene guys - don't want anybody to be able to suggest that we messed with evidence."
Colby scoffed. "You think there's something uncertain about this evidence? You stay down - " He pushed Soames' face unceremoniously back into the floorboards and smiled toothily at Megan. "Just keeping him restrained. Hands are cuffed in front - can't be too careful."
"I couldn't get them around his back," Charlie piped up, opening his eyes again as Mario, the EMT, gripped his chin. "Don was - in the way. So I - um - over his head was - "
"YOU cuffed him - ?" Megan glanced at Don's hands, the fingers not hidden in the stained pillow case bloodless, wrist purple and swollen and creased with a dark ligature mark. Her eyebrows went up. Well, Don sure didn't do it. The EMT's right – there's a heck of a story here.
"Oh, yeah…" Mario murmured, turning Charlie's head this way and that. "Look at those eyes - all pupil - like black holes." He lifted his flashlight. "Reactive, though. Let's see how your blood pressure is doing. How's your guy?"
"Blood pressure's way down. Once I get a line established I want to move him out."
"Let's take this guy in the same ambulance - I'll phone for another one for the other guy."
"Great." Megan gave Don's shoulder a rub, then reached for her phone. "I'll call Gretski and we'll follow you to the hospital. David - " she raised her voice. "Gretski's team is gonna take over for you."
"Oh, yeah?" David appeared in the doorway. "What are we going to be doing?"
"Driving to the hospital." Megan punched in a telephone number.
Colby and David exchanged glances.
"Hey - um - " Colby stood up abruptly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'll - uh - ride along with Soames here - get his statement. You guys go ahead without me."
David stared at him. "You know, I should ride along with the Eppes and do the same - somebody should get their story while - um - it's fresh."
Mario tucked away the talkie he'd used to request a couple of folding gurneys from the ambulance driver, glancing from one patient to the other. "Sorry, guys, but I'm not sure there's room for you in the one ambulance and - well - frankly, I don't think anybody's going to be up to saying much for a little while. Might have better luck if you meet us there."
Megan finished her phone call and stood, not even trying to hide a smirk at the wild look David and Colby shared. "Don't worry, boys…I'll take the corners reeeeal slow."
"I've got an even better idea," David held out a hand for the keys. "I'll drive."
000
"Up you go."
Charlie accepted a hand from the EMT and let him help him into the ambulance. Funny - his legs seemed to be - they actually didn't seem to be there at all. There was a reason for it, probably, a good scientific one…biology, most likely. Not his specialty.
The EMT - Charlie tried to get a glimpse of his nametag, but everything was blurry - guided him to some kind of a built-in bench and helped him get comfortable, arranging a new blanket of silvery thinsulate around him. The blanket in Don's room had been left behind as a source of possible evidence.
"There." The EMT gave his knee a pat. "That's a good blanket, huh? Not as cozy, maybe, but warm."
Charlie nodded, wondering why he was talking to him as if he was four. Come to think of it, about everybody was.
The human body sitting at rest consumes 4.7 kilocalories per hour per square foot of body surface area and transfers this energy into heat. He hunkered deep into the blanket and it crinkled softly about him. The cold seemed to be coming from inside, though, not outside. Could a blanket, even a technologically advanced one, warm you inside?
The clo unit is defined as the amount of clothing required by a resting subject to be comfortable at a room temperature of 70°F (21°C). Clo-value is analogous to R-value. For example, 1 R-value 1.137 clo-value.
He frowned, looking around him for the first time. It was a pleasant day - probably about 70°F. Was it really the same day? It felt like he'd been inside Don's for hours. Larry would be able to interject something here about the time/space continuum, or time occurring on alternate, simultaneous planes…
He noticed something else. "The LAPD is here."
"Yeah." The EMT climbed in after him, settling on a similar bench on the opposite side. "They got here while we were waiting for the all-clear. Why?"
Charlie shook his head. Nothing. Just - was everybody always so - slow? Don always seemed to take off at a dead run. Did it still take so long for help to arrive? He sighed. Of course, this was LA. Traffic. And of course, he really wasn't that sure how long it had taken…minutes, probably. Too many minutes, though. Larry would say that time was relative. Today he would be tempted to argue.
The EMT lifted his hand in a signal and the door slammed shut with a clang that made Charlie jump, followed by a swift banging sound; then the ambulance careened away from the curb. Charlie set his feet and gripped the bench with one hand to keep from sliding down its length.
"How's Don?" Had he already asked that? He thought maybe he had.
"'Mfine, Charlie."
Charlie nearly jumped a second time, he'd been so certain Don was out of it. He leaned his elbows on his knees and bent forward to get a better look at the gurney that took up most of the ambulance's narrow floor. He could just make out a sliver of dark brown between the lashes of the eye not covered by white gauze.
"I was actually looking for a professional opinion," he explained mildly.
"Yeah…" the lashes drooped. "Who's the funny guy…now?"
"I like to think my jokes are in better taste."
"Yeah…?" Don flinched as they hit a rut in the road. "Don't…kid yourself."
Charlie smiled a little. With the wound on the back of his head hidden from sight and a blanket covering most of the rest of the mess, Don actually did look less alarming. He watched the lashes stretch a little higher, then squint.
"How…you…holding up…?"
"I'm - " He had no idea, actually. "I'm - you know - I'm okay." Even with only one eye to read, he could tell Don didn't really believe him, but either he didn't have the strength to argue or didn't see the point. Good. He didn't feel like arguing. He didn't have any real answers to offer anybody anyway. Hm. Him - with no answers. That was new. See, Don? Now that's funny. He'd have to remember to tell him. He rubbed his palms over his temples. His head hurt. Was it possible to have a post-adrenaline headache?
Adrenaline (i.e. epinephrine) is secreted by the adrenal medulla. When released into the bloodstream, adrenaline binds to multiple receptors and has numerous effects throughout the body. It increases heart rate and stroke volume, dilates the pupils, and constricts arterioles in the skin and gut while dilating arterioles in leg muscles…
That's right. That explained the missing legs.
…It elevates the blood sugar level by increasing depolymerization of glycogen to glucose in the liver, and at the same time begins the breakdown of lipids in adipocytes. Epinephrine (adrenaline) has a suppressive effect on the immune system…
Hope you don't need your immune system, Donnie. Don. Wow. He hadn't called him that since…well. A long time. Probably since his voice had changed and he'd begun to consider himself a grown up.
He watched the EMT adjust the plastic bags dangling from thin metal arms around the gurney. In the glare of the overhead light they looked decorative - almost jewel-like - translucent yellow and dark, opaque burgundy.
"I - don't think I…I'm Charlie."
"I know." The EMT gestured to his clipboard. "Charles E. Eppes. I'm Jerry."
Oh. He didn't remember telling…had he? Maybe. Or maybe Megan had.
"…and," Jerry turned a page. "One Don A. Eppes. You guys related?"
"Brothers." The word caught in his throat and he blinked rapidly to keep from embarrassing himself.
We are 50 percent genetically related to our sisters and brothers. Siblings inherit 23 chromosomes from each parent. Because of DNA swapping, their chromosomes have a different combination of genes, yet on average, half of the genes are still the same.
He had given a lecture on this once…the statistical aspects of DNA…
Imagine your parents' genes as coins. The sides of a coin, heads and tails, represent the two copies of each of their genes. The chances of inheriting a head or a tail is just like flipping a coin, totally random.
Random. Like today…he swallowed.
Since we have 25,000 genes in our DNA, whether we inherit the head or tail of each gene is like flipping a coin 25,000 times. If we do that, we are most likely to get ½ heads and ½ tails.
Flipping a coin. Heads, you win, tails, you lose. Just that simple. He didn't really believe in luck, but he did believe in probability…
…so if you are inheriting ½ heads and ½ tails from your parents, the same is true for your sibling. In other words, the two of you are about 50 percent genetically related. You both may not have exactly 12,500 of each - you may have 12,600 heads and 12,400 tails and your sibling has 12,550 tails and 12,450 heads - but you are pretty close to 50 percent...
Pretty close. Pretty close. It had been pretty close. They were pretty close. He let his hand curl around the bar on the side of the gurney.
…approximately 50 percent alike and 50 percent different. Out of all those probable combinations, each one is 100 percent unique…his hand tightened…100 percent irreplaceable.
"How - " He tried to smile at Jerry. The smile felt ragged and uncertain, even to him. "You said - um - you think - ?" It didn't hurt to ask again.
Jerry looked up from the vitals he was monitoring, and his smile did look real. "Well, I'm not a doc, of course, and I'd say you both could use a real examination, but…" he shrugged. "Yeah. He's going to need some serious patching, but the smart money's on him."
Step up and place your bets, folks. Heads, you win. Tails, you lose. One second to choose, then…
"Yeah…don't believe…me…"
The husky whisper drew Charlie's attention back to the gurney. Speaking of ragged. Even the sliver of brown had vanished under the lid now, but Don sounded still with them, groggy and indignant.
Charlie let go of the gurney and stretched his hand over the upper part of Don's chest instead, where he didn't recall there being much damage. The reassuring pressure of a heartbeat nudged his palm. "I don't think you're in a state to be making an unbiased assessment," he suggested softly.
Don huffed a faint breath. "Right…back at ya."
Charlie shifted his shoulders in the crinkly blanket. "Okay," he nodded obediently. Might as well humor him. "I think I'm - going to be - okay. How do you think you are?"
He could see Don's eye shift under the lid, could almost sense him taking stock. "Choice between this and…dead?" His lips quirked. "I'll…take it."
Charlie sank back against the ambulance wall, the swaying motion strangely lulling him, keeping counterpoint to the heartbeat under his hand - fast and erratic, but irrefutably there.
Heads. Tails. Toss a coin and take what you get. Win. Lose. Life. Death.
The basics.
Sometimes, maybe, he made things a little too complicated.
"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah. Me too."
TBC