A/N: I'm really enjoying the feedback for this story. It was originally just a gift for my sister on this site (you've prolly seen her fics in the CSI:NY section), but since she has YET to review this sucker (big meanie), I'm just happy to have you guys, haha.
Disclaimer: Me? Own? Psh!
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The young man groaned, his body had gone numb somehow, but his brain still pounded at his skull. "Adam? Buddy?" the voice was distant, but the more it called, the more Adam couldn't help but focus on it.
"Ugh, shut up, Messer," Adam moaned, scrunching his eyes shut against the setting sun and burying his face sideways into his pillow.
"Not gonna happen, Ross. Not until you explain to me why you turned off your IV." Danny told him, a clear tinge of disappointment in his voice. Without delay, Adam cracked one eye open, the other still buried in his starchy pillowcase.
Oh crap.
He was in trouble. He could read it all over Danny's face from the man's grim line of a mouth and cross-armed stance- Adam just hoped he was reading it differently since his glasses were still lying in that bathroom somewhere.
Slowly but surely, Adam sat up on his bed with only a bit of difficulty, probably due to the new drug cocktail traveling through his bloodstream. He picked absently at the threads of the pink blanket dripped over him. Danny cleared his throat, hoping Adam hadn't forgotten about his presence-which was impossible, Adam hoped Danny knew.
"She was special, Danny, and now she's dead." Adam glanced over at the older man, who just seemed angrier at his explanation.
"So you go and turn off your drugs?" Danny exploded, clearly enraged. "You think that's how you fix things, Adam? You could've gone into shock! If we hadn't gotten here when we did-" He paused, chest heaving up and down with pent up rage. He wasn't mad at Adam, although it certainly felt like that to the young scientist, just angry at himself that he didn't see this coming. "Ya know, I don't even want to think about it."
Danny plopped down in the purple chair beside Adam's bead, taking off his glasses to rub at his tired, itching eyes- At least that's what he excused the pricks at the edge of his vision as.
"I'm sorry, Danny. I had it under control. I knew what I was doing." Adam tried, which seemed to be the one thing in the world he probably shouldn't have said to the older detective.
Danny's head snapped up. "You had it 'under control.' That's not what I call the brain shutting down because their pain level has shot through the roof. Think that's 'under control'? 'Cause that seems pretty out of control to me, buddy."
"I'm sorry," Adam apologized for what seemed to be the billionth time to him. "It won't happen again."
"Well, that's one thing you're right about. I doubt Flack will take much of this crap while you're with him." Danny said.
Adam raised a questioning eyebrow. "What-what are you talking about?" Why would he ever in a hundred years be with Flack?
Since Adam almost gave him a heart attack, Danny felt it appropriate to do so in return. He laid on his next sentence ruthlessly thick, "Yeah, he's going to be watchin' you until we find the killer. Can't risk you getting hurt now."
Adam's mouth shut quickly. "No." He stated plainly. "Not gonna happen." It was probably the first time he had outright rebelled against something Danny told him, but he didn't care. Staying with Flack was probably much worse than any torture Danny could formulate.
"Sorry, Adam, but stunts like this?" He gave a curt nod to the machine Adam was hooked up to. "They sealed that deal awhile ago." Danny said matter-of-factly. Adam's heart sank and his head dropped to his chest. Sure, the scientist figured he looked pathetic, but it didn't matter now. Apparently, he couldn't be trusted with looking after himself so maybe he was pitiful. Danny's pompous expression softened at the sight of Adam's forlorn countenance. He laid a hand on his friend's back. "Look, I'll be sticking around a lot, too, so it's not like you'll be out there on your own. But, I'm telling ya, Flack is a nice guy once you get to know him. It won't be so bad."
Adam didn't look convinced, but no matter how many dirty looks he threw at Danny, it seemed he was already on the road to perdition.
"C'mon, get dressed so we can get you out of here." Danny said, throwing a duffel of Adam's clothes at the lab tech. "We'll drop by your house for some things and then head over to Flack's place."
Somber, Adam got up from the bed, grabbed his bag, and wheeled his IV towards the bathroom.
"Hey," Danny called to him. Adam turned slightly from his trek to the bathroom. "We're just tryin' to protect you, Adam. Don't worry. We'll find the guy who did this and then you can go back to playing Guitar Hero at your place." Adam managed a nod to his friend, afraid of what he would say if he dared open his mouth. He snapped the sliding door shut to the bathroom and wondered how he would change with the IV in his arm.
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Stella pushed the wheelchair through the sliding glass doors. Adam sat sullenly in it, happy to be free of the hospital but still more depressed at his new distasteful destination. Stella put on the chair's brakes, and the two waited for Danny and Flack to bring the car around from the north parking lot. Hands pressed behind the small of her back, she leaned casually against one of the hospital's cement pillars, observing the pessimistic young man seated beside her.
"Hey," She began gently. "You know it's only going to be for a short while, right?" Stella asked him, breaking Adam from his gloomy reverie. He glanced up at her then returned his attention to picking at the uncomfortable sling his arm was held in.
"Yeah-uh-I just think-It's going to be pretty weird, staying with someone I barely know." Adam admitted verbally for the first time since he heard the news of his new living arrangement. Stella gave him an empathetic look and laid a warming hand upon his shoulder, leaning to his eye level.
"I know it's not easy to deal with these situations. Especially in our line of work, we want to be left alone and forget they ever happened. But, Adam, believe me when I say that it gets better when you have people around you to help carry you through it." She squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.
"Yeah, but Flack?" Adam enquired. "The only thing he seems interested in carrying is his gun with him at all times." Stella laughed, finding the humorous comment to be in some sense true.
"Just promise me you'll make an attempt to get along with the guy." Stella proposed, narrowing her eyes.
"Sure," Adam acceded with a heavy sigh. He wasn't a hard guy to get along with, that much he was sure of. "And if I get shot trying?"
Stella shrugged. "I guess you'll be more symmetrical." The curly-haired detective declared, pointing to Adam's shoulder. He laughed, which felt hallow and unnatural in his body, like it didn't belong in there. As much as he loved Stella for adding her ray of sunshine to his every bleak situation, this one seemed out-and-out helpless.
First he was shot, which would've been fine if it was an accident. But no, it had to be by some psychotic who had an odd fetish for large knifes. Second, he lost a great girl who, he might add, he had risked his life saving in the first place, making it feel like he got shot for nothing. Third, the killer was after him, forcing him to be guarded by a hardened cop that Adam was, frankly, frightened to be around. And to top it all off, Adam's drug-induced headache was getting increasingly worse because he still didn't have his glasses.
Squinting in the distance, Adam watched a blurry, black car sharpen into focus as it drew closer to the spot which he sat. Once the vehicle came to a full stop, Danny got out with a pleasant greeting to the smiling, curly-haired detective behind the once-again brooding lab tech.
"You good to walk, buddy?" Danny asked Adam, who was still slightly mad at his friend from their previous encounter in the hospital room. Adam silently nodded and took a deep breath before mustering his strength and rising from the leather-backed wheelchair. Danny helped him considerably into the backseat of the car since he was still weak from the intense drug concoction pumping through his body systems.
Danny snapped the door shut and began talking to Stella about the case, at least that's what Adam inferred by their businesslike stances and "detective" faces. He studied them closely then switched his gaze to staring at his sling, anything really to distract him from the obvious presence in the front driver's seat.
The tall, black-haired detective sat there, his fingers drumming impatiently on the sleek steering wheel as if urging Danny to hurry up and get back in the car. His blue eyes shifted occasionally to the rear view mirror, taking in the sight of the injured and tired young man lounging in the backseat with a very dejected look in his eyes.
Flack opened his jaw, as if to strike up a conversation with the young man, but closed it quickly, rethinking his comment. Everything he wanted to talk about to the lab tech just didn't seem suitable for their situation. The wrinkles in the dashing detective's face deepened with the stress of not knowing what to say to the unfortunate Adam Ross. He sighed; he wasn't sure who wanted the killer found faster: Adam, whose life was threatened with each passing second the man lurked out there, or Flack, whose total inexperience with roommates and nerdy friends left him with the foreign feelings of helplessness.
Just as Flack thought of something to say (it was a topic on what was Adam's favorite sports team. Wait, does Adam even like sports? Oi, Don's head hurt.) , Danny plopped into the passenger seat beside Flack.
"What was that about?" Flack asked, happy to begin driving out of the hospital parking lot and onto the main road to Adam's house.
"Stella." He stated, clicking the seatbelt into place. "Told me they needed help looking through case files." Danny explained, laying his head back against the head rest. "Said archives sent three boxes over to the station that she needs us to look through."
"Sounds like we got our night planned out for us," Flack said bitterly. Realistically speaking, he should probably be used to the "no sleep" factor of his job, but sometimes he really needed the unwinding time.
"Yeah, so no packin' your Guitar Hero or whatever, Adam," Danny instructed. Adam smirked sheepishly.
"You like Guitar Hero, Ross?" Flack glanced at the lab tech through the rearview mirror and Adam caught his eye. Slightly surprised by the direct address, the auburn-haired young man nodded. Flack readjusted his attention to the road. "That's a good game."
"Yes, it's too bad you two can't geek out on it tonight." He sighed, talking mostly to Flack. "Sure you'd be fit for shootin' bad guys after you've spent all night shredding it on the Xbox."
Flack shook his head with a smile. "Hey, I make good shots even on four hours."
"If by 'good' you mean shooting that one guy in the ear twice, then I don't want to be 'good.'" Danny rebutted teasingly. Flack scoffed.
"Right and Mr. Accidentally-Shot-His-Foot-While-Climbing-a-Fence is a better title?"
Adam snorted from the back seat, which brought a small smile to Flack's face. Danny ignored both men and glowered in his seat.
"You promised you would never bring that up," Danny said, sounding every bit the grumpy housewife.
"Hey, we're in good company. Ross won't tell nobody about your 'incident', right?" He glanced up at Adam, who shook his head. "Eh, it was worth a try. Guess you're rep is screwed now."
"Perfect," Danny stated, closing his eyes and enjoying the rest of the quiet ride to Adam's place.
Sometime later, they arrived at the ten-story apartment building. Adam lived on the sixth floor of the cramped, dingy brown complex right next to the scary old lady with her crazy birds and a gentlemen who seemed to be doing suspicious activity with his living space. Since Danny had fallen asleep awhile ago, Flack climbed the steps up to the sixth floor alongside Adam. -The elevator having broken a few months back with no sign of ever being repaired (It was probably for the best, really).
Adam hooked his hand in his pocket and retrieved his keys, unlocking the door. Flack followed him in but stopped at the entrance, figuring Adam wouldn't need help packing his things.
"I'll hurry this up," Adam said and shuffled down the hallway to what Flack assumed was his bedroom. Once the lab tech was out of sight, the detective attempted to search for conversation topics based on what he could make out in Adam's living room.
The Xbox hooked up to the sizeable television screen looked heavily used as did the guitar controller. Several books on DNA and other sciences were stacked high against the walls of the room. Flack walked closer to one of the stacks, peaked to make sure Adam wouldn't catch him, and flipped the top book open. Each chunk of pages he turned revealed a new leaflet that was heavily hi-lighted and written in. Flack was impressed and fairly intimidated by the amount of knowledge that Adam beheld.
Adam didn't seem flattered by Flack's prying though. Once he returned awhile later with a large item, he flushed slightly at the sight of Flack holding one of his books. He set down his baggage and gently pulled the book from Flack's hands to reorganize the book in its proper place. The tall detective watched with waning curiosity at the meticulous system Adam had when dealing with the large books.
He would have pondered over Adam and his OCD-indicative habits, but something caught his eye. It was movement. Not the kind of movement that forced him to throw Adam into a closet and pull out his gun, shouting orders to drop their weapon. No, nothing like that. It was a pink-tailed, white rat that sat inside a small, wire cage, staring strangely up at Flack with two beady red eyes. Flack gulped.
"What's that?" he asked.
Adam furrowed his brow and followed Flack's line a vision. "Oh! Yeah-That's Scabbers. He's a rat." Flack gave him a look that read, "Obviously!" The detective knew full-well what it was. He simply wanted to ensure nothing of the sort would be entering his own apartment any time in the next millennia.
"He comin' with you?" Flack asked, praying to any God that would listen that the scientist would stutter out a simple "no."
Adam turned to meet Flack's look of veiled anxiety. "Uh, well, I don't really have anybody here to take care of him. And-and." Adam stared down at his rat, looking ready to cry. Flack just growled. Why him? Why a creepy little rat when goldfish were so much cheaper? He jingled his keys in his pocket, something to release his frustration at what he was about to say.
"Okay, fine, he can come," The dark-haired detective grounded out. "Just… Don't take him out of the cage." Adam nodded gratefully.
"Thanks-thank you… Uh-Let me just get my other stuff." Adam said, walking back down the hallway, leaving Flack to have a staring contest with his disturbing pet. The auburn-haired young man sighed once he arrived back in his room, eyes flitting to the window. He wondered briefly how far he'd get before Flack noticed he was gone.
He guessed not far.
Scratching at the sling's irritating material against his neck, Adam walked to his closet and tried to mangle a suitcase from the top of it. The task proved almost impossible in his current condition, but the young man demonstrated great one-armed skill, if he did say so himself. Adam had almost managed to get it down completely –Well, the suitcase and a box that he hadn't noticed was lying atop it before it plunged straight at him.
Instinctively, Adam reached up to stop it from hitting him in the face. A mistake, clearly, once he felt the pains shoot through his arm and a sudden moistness under the sling. He swore, letting the suitcase and box of old comic books topple to the floor, while he grasped his excruciating arm.
"ADAM?" He heard Flack call. "You okay in there?"
"Yeah!" Adam yelled back, hoping the other man wouldn't notice the pain-filled strain in his tone. "I'm good!"
He gathered the courage to look down at his shoulder. Being as doped up as he was, the hurting had subsided with the painkillers running freely inside his blood. His shirt wasn't soiled with the red liquid but it would be soon if he didn't act fast.
Hurriedly, he rushed to the adjoining bathroom and pulled out the first-aid kit on the shelf above the toilet. Careful not to jostle his other arm, he laid the white plastic case on the counter and pulled out a thick bandage. Adam bit his lip as he reached underneath his shirt and pulled off the hospital's dressing and replaced it with the new one from the kit. In a great show of cowardice, the lab tech made it a point of not looking at the wound much, scared of how he might faint if he saw his horrible, bleeding abrasion.
Adam grabbed three more thick bandages from the kit and returned to his room, feeling light headed and short on breath. The young man shook his head; he had to look sobered up and not like he just ran a marathon. If Flack were to find out he ripped his stitches… Adam shuddered.
He just didn't want to think about that.
Instead, the scientist knelt down next to the rolling black suitcase, stuffing the bandages inside- Just in time apparently as Flack chose that exact time to knock on the door. Startled, Adam spun his head around to see the detective giving him a quizzical look.
"Something wrong?" The taller man inquired, a tinge of concern in his voice.
Adam turned away from the detective, making a face as he pretended to pack important items. "No-uh-No, nothing. Almost done." He got up with a grimace, walked over to the dresser and threw random articles of clothing into his bag. "Yeah, I think that's- Oh!" He spotted his beloved spare pair of glasses and packed it in his bag as well. Once he zipped the black luggage shut, a hand reached down and picked it up, surprising Adam a little. He looked up at Flack.
"Thanks," He mumbled.
"No problem; your rat is still on the couch, by the way," Flack informed him, and Adam resisted the urge to point out his name was Scabbers.
As the two exited the apartment, Adam studied his rat, the animal gloriously unaware of the situation around him. To Scabbers, the world would still be in order inside his modest cage; the young man wistfully yearned to go back to his.
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A/N: Tell me what you think/stroke my enormous ego –Leave a review! :D