Title: Blackout 4/4

Author: Romantique

Email:

Classification: Early Edition. Gary/Marissa, Hurt/Drama

Rating: T

Summary: It is Gary Hobson's fate to keep harm from coming to others; however, this time, it is Gary himself who needs help. His friend Marissa is along for the ride. (This fan fiction began as a Halloween challenge, but evolved into a stand-alone story.) Disclaimer: This fan fiction occurs some time in Season 3, after Chuck leaves Chicago.

Legal: These characters do not belong to me. I'm just a fan and have not made a dime. Please email me to obtain permission to post.

The hands on the wall clock in the Bank lobby continued to tick away the minutes. As the day turned into night, the lights inside the bank, which were on a timer, began to dim one by one. It was becoming more and more obvious to the hostages that the Police and the gunmen were no closer to reaching an agreement for their release. The only positive development of the evening was the delivery of pizzas and sodas. However, even that development quickly turned negative.

The gunmen were so distrustful of the Police, they forced the hostages to eat and drink the delivered items before they would touch them. This made for a tense and stressful couple of hours despite assurances from the Police that no tampering had occurred. Several times, Anne was pulled away from Gary's side to check on fellow hostages who complained about a headache or stomach ache after eating the pizza. Once ample time had passed, she ascertained that these random complaints were caused by the stress of being in a hostage situation.

Eventually, the gunmen seemed to be satisfied no drugging or poisoning occurred, and they also ate for the first time all day. Afterwards, they began to settle into a routine of leading hostages to the restrooms in groups at regular times, a further signal to the hostages that they were not going anywhere before the next sunrise.

Gary, Marissa, Jim, and Anne continued to be kept separate from the others, who were housed on the far side of the bank, on the other side of the counter, in an office. The gunmen would move back and forth, keeping watch on the two groups.

The situation in the Bank had been too fluid for Marissa and Jim to plan a move. Hushed discussions between Jim and Marissa were repeatedly interrupted by changing developments and compounded by Gary's deteriorating condition. However, the need for an escape plan increased with each passing hour. There was nothing they could but to patiently wait for everyone, including the gunmen, to quiet down for the night. Then, maybe, they could make a move.

Night time is also when fevers have a tendency to spike. Such was the case on this night. Gary drifted in and out of both chills and fever. In his delirious state, he fitfully whispered the names of Shannon, Zeke, and Kelsey, among other random things. As Marissa had never heard these names before, she surmised they were most likely people he had rescued in the past or worse, failed to rescue.

She often wondered how her friend coped with the enormous burden of the memory of those he could not save. She knew there were a few, and that he did not like to talk about it, not even to her. Occasionally, he would mention having a nightmare, without going into any detail. She always felt he had some demons he held deep inside. She had enough psychology education to know that wasn't a healthy thing to do. However, she never judged her friend. For no matter how close she was to Gary and the Paper, Gary's path was his and his alone. No one could know what it was like to be Gary Hobson, except for Gary Hobson.

Suddenly, Marissa's thoughts returned to what was before her, when Gary began to have more trouble breathing. He began to wheeze, working harder to get air into his lungs. It was one of the most alarming sounds she had ever heard.

"He needs the kind of help I can't give him here," Anne warned Jim and Marissa, shaking her head in frustration and with finality in her voice. She had warned the gunmen all day of Gary's deteriorating condition, but to no avail.

Anne knew that if Gary wasn't put on oxygen and antibiotics very soon, he would not make it until the morning.

Tugging on Jim's nearby arm as signal, Marissa was ready to go; however, Jim had reason for hesitation. He was a large man and was afraid he would be seen. Marissa refused to leave Gary, and Gary needed the nurse. So, they decided there was only one thing they could do ... leave together.

Marissa removed her shoes so as to not make any noise against the tiled floor. Jim then held her by her shoulders and pointed her in the right direction, giving her bearings. Next, he quietly explained how she needed to insert the key, upside down. He told her the keyhole was underneath the right door handle. Her heart was pounding out of her chest, as she began the long trek to the front door of the bank.

In the meantime, Jim and the nurse lifted a limp, semi-conscious Gary into a secretarial chair. Jim removed his extra large belt and used to strap Gary to the chair. Gary uttered a low groan until Anne leaned down near his ear and softly said, "Shhhhhhhh."

Ever so quietly, Marissa reached the door and frantically felt for the key hole. The cool glass and a vertical metal strip told her that she was in the right vicinity. Finally, she felt the door handle, and just as Jim told her, the keyhole sat right beneath. She inserted the key and turned it clockwise, as instructed, until she heard a "click."

At that very moment, Jim and Anne also removed their shoes, as well as Gary's and began to push the wheeled, secretarial chair towards the front door. Gary was turned to their rear, his legs extended out with his socked heels dragging on the floor. Jim and Anne pushed with super human strength.

Marissa began to push the door open when the force of Jim and Anne made the door fly open.

"Hold your fire! Stand down!" the SWAT Commander spoke directly into his walky-talky, to the SWAT team. "Hostages are coming out!"

The men, who comprised some of Chicago's Finest, held their collective breaths as they watched three figures wheel a 4th injured figure out of the bank. As they exited the Bank, it became more and more apparent that these were hostages who had managed to escape. Two officers ran up to them, signaling them to remain quiet and calm, and they were ushered over to the side of the road. One of the officers grabbed Gary under his arms and found that he was strapped to the chair. Then, the two officers grabbed the chair, picked it up, and ran to the road to join the others. An ambulance was standing by on the far, far side of the bank. After a moment, two paramedics joined the hostages and the two officers with a gurney.

Three more officers joined the group, as Jim was quickly debriefed on where the gunmen were, how many there were, how much fire power did they have, how many hostages remained. In the meantime, one of the medics slapped an oxygen mask on Gary's face as he was loaded onto they gurney. And IV line was established as Anne debriefed the medics. Soon, he was moved to the back of the ambulance, and Marissa and Anne were allowed to accompany him to the Emergency Room.

~ . ~ . ~

Gary woke feeling woozy and confused. His surroundings slowly came into focus¸ and he found himself lying in bed in a hospital room, hooked up to an IV and monitoring equipment. His friend Marissa was seated near his bedside where she maintained her vigil. She heard him stir.

"Gary?" she was somewhat startled. "Are you awake?"

"Uh, yeah," he answered, habitually reaching up to rake his fingers through his hair with his left hand, until an IV line prevented him from bending his arm. He was more than a little disoriented.

Finally, he became more and more aware of his body. He hurt. In addition to the IV line, he had a nasal cannula bringing oxygen into his nostrils. His right arm was immobilized in a blue sling over his hospital gown. His left eye remained swollen shut, and the entire left side of his face and head ached.

"It's about time," Marissa added. "You've been out for two days." A moment later, Marissa asked, "Would you buzz for the nurse? She asked to be buzzed as soon as you woke up."

Gary took in a shallow breath and searched for the buzzer cord. Once he found it, wound around the bed rail, he pressed the call button as Marissa had asked. Less than a moment later, a nurse entered his room. Coincidentally, Anne had been assigned to his case, the same nurse who helped him at the Bank.

"Look who's awake," the nurse remarked with a smile on her face. Then, she became very professional. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Uh ... Gary," he answered, still out of it. "Gary Hobson," he expounded. His voice was scratchy, his mouth was dry. "Can I have some water?" he croaked.

"Sure," Anne said, as she poured some water in a cup with a straw. "But sip this slowly, okay?"

Gary nodded, as he slowly sipped the entire 4 ounces of the liquid bliss.

"Very good," the nurse nodded when he finished. "Do you know where you are?" She then popped a thermometer in his mouth.

He looked around, still somewhat dazed. "In the hospital?" he asked, trying to keep the thermometer under his tongue as he spoke.

"That's right," the nurse verified. "Do you know why you are in the hospital?"

"The bank," he began slowly. Then, the expression on his face changed to one of distress. "There was a hold up ... at the bank."

"That's right," Anne said, and then, she quickly shifted tone to assure him. "You're safe now, Gary. It's all over."

"And the others?" he asked, searching the nurse's eyes for answers. He remembered there were others.

"SWAT was able to enter the building," Marissa placed her hands gently on Gary's slinged arm to reassure him. "Everyone's okay. Even the gunmen. No one was injured ... except for you."

Gary closed his eyes and swallowed with the thermometer still in his mouth. "Good," he mumbled, trying to keep his lips closed. He vaguely remembered something about the Paper reporting a failed rescue attempt on the first day, causing the incident to go into a second day. But something must have changed or happened for the Paper's version not to happen. With Anne standing there in the room, he couldn't ask Marissa about it, so he decided to let it go until later.

Looking at her wristwatch, Anne took the thermometer out of Gary's mouth after the requisite three minutes and proceeded to read it. "99.8. It's moving in the right direction," she reported with a smile on her face. She then put her stethoscope into her ears and listened carefully to his breathing. "Also much better. You're responding well to the antibiotics. You're lucky you only fractured your ribs. You could have punctured your lung."

She removed the stethoscope out of her ears and continued, "I'll let the Attending know you're awake. He'll be in soon. Also, Respiratory Therapy will be coming to see you today to begin breathing treatments to help you get over the pneumonia."

Then, Anne approached his bedside and looked into his eyes, checking them for focus and tracking, routine for a patient who had sustained a head injury such as his.

Suddenly, Gary found himself lost in her eyes.

"I don't mean to stare." Gary slowly uttered what was almost an apology for his strange reaction. "You look so familiar."

"She should," Marissa interjected, suddenly realizing that Gary had never really "seen" her before. "Anne saved your life."

Gary was still puzzled. He remembered the hold up. He remembered injuring his right side saving the Loan Officer. But he could not place this lady.

Anne re-introduced herself to him. "I'm a nurse here at the hospital. But lucky for you, I also just happened to be banking on the same day you were injured."

Still confused, he continued staring into her eyes and strangely thinking to himself, "No, that wasn't it."

Marissa added. "Anne took care of your injuries and kept your fever down until we could get you out of there."

Even though he still couldn't remember that, he said, "Thank you?"

Anne was looking at the stitches on his left temple. The wound looked good. "Oh, you're very welcome," she said, as she went on to check in vital signs. Then, she began making small talk. "I do feel like I know you, though, Gary. Marissa's told me all about you."

"Uh-oh," Gary again thought to himself. Surely, he must be mistaken.

"That you are such a good person and a good friend," Anne continued. "Are you married?"

Even more confused, Gary slowly answered her, as she took his pulse, "Noooooo?"

He was more than a little hesitant to answer Anne's question because quite frankly, this nurse who evidently saved his life seemed a little old for him.

"I should introduce you to my daughter," Anne went on, and she began to write his vitals into his chart.

"Oh, you have a daughter?" Marissa asked the nurse.

Looking up from the chart, Anne said, "Yes. Her name is Shannon. She's in her last year at Loyola ... studying to become a social worker." It became obvious Anne was very proud of her daughter.

It was at that instant Gary looked over at the woman's hospital name badge that hung from a lanyard around her neck. Her large photo I.D. read "Anne Donahue, R.N."

He immediately returned his gaze to her eyes.

"Oh, my," he thought to himself. In a flash, much like a bolt of lightning, he suddenly recognized when and where he had seen those sapphire blue eyes. "Shannon Donahue. My wife ... my future wife." Shannon had her mother's eyes. In contrast to his mental fogginess, suddenly everything became crystal clear: Anne Donahue, the woman who saved his life at the bank, was her mother ... his future mother-in-law.

A peaceful, knowing smile slowly grew over Gary's face, even on the injured side. What Marissa had told him was true: He could not control everything, especially when it came to the Paper. And he thanked God he could not.

And then, he answered, "Yeah, I'd really like that. I mean ... meet your daughter some time."

-fin-