OUT THERE

Chapter Twelve

"'I don't feel very much like Pooh today,' said Pooh.
'There there,' said Piglet. 'I'll bring you tea and honey until you do.'"
(A.A. Milne, 'Winnie the Pooh')

He awoke to the frightening sense that someone was leaning over him. Dragged from a sleep so heavy that it pulled him downwards like a weight, at first he could not fathom where he was. His eyes were glued shut and his mouth was dry. Within the prison of his ribcage, his heart hammered urgently.

"Who's there?" he croaked.

"Don't tell me you slept here all night," a cheerful voice returned. "Some nurse Flack turned out to be."

And now he understood why the other person's breathing had seemed so close. Rubbing his eyes, he managed to open them at last. The first thing that he saw was Danny's grin; a wry mixture of sympathy for his plight and amusement at his disorientation. Unable to fit his wheelchair into the gap between the coffee table and Adam's makeshift bed, he had circled around to the side of the couch.

"Thought I'd check on you before work," he continued. "See if there was anything you needed. Flack let me in, but he had to run. I tell ya, the man did not look good, Adam. You two stay up all night swappin' stories?"

Instead of replying, Adam pushed himself into a sitting position. The muscles in his back shifted, tugging at the edges of his wound. He clenched his teeth against the anticipated rush of pain - but to his surprise it was dull, not sharp; and wretched like toothache. Danny winced at the look on his friend's face.

"Meds worn off?"

Adam's answering groan was heartfelt. Yes, they had - and what good was a piece of paper with some doctor's scrawl on it? He should have remembered to stop at a pharmacy on the way home. Too late now... He swallowed and rose to his feet, discovering a whole range of milder aches and pains as he did so.

"Whoa, buddy - where you goin'?"

"I need..." He stopped, as the answer eluded him. Oh - yes! "I need to get out of these clothes, okay? They're Mac's. He'll want 'em back. And I feel..."

So many ways to finish that sentence. Unable to choose, he floundered. Embarrassed? Uncomfortable? Sick?

Hungry?

"Tell you what," Danny said, almost as though he could untangle Adam's thoughts and read each one. "You take some time. Freshen up, change your clothes. And I'll make you some breakfast. Sound good?"

"Sure," he whispered, edging across to his bedroom. First stop was the closet, where he grabbed a random t-shirt and a pair of sweats; the first items that he laid eyes on. He followed that up with a clean pair of boxers. Danny tailed him anxiously until he reached the bathroom door; then veered off towards the kitchen.

"Yell if you need me," he called back over his shoulder.

Adam shut the door and leaned his forehead against it, allowing himself one single moment of despair. Spreading his fingers, he clung to the wood. The door was his anchor; the world a kaleidoscope that spun around him.

"...five... four... three..." he murmured softly. Reaching the end of his countdown to sanity, he took a deep breath and straightened up. Moment over. Time to move on.

A quick glance in the mirror showed that Mac's shirt was sadly creased. Feeling guilty, Adam fumbled with the buttons and tried to shrug it off without straining his bad shoulder. Unfortunately, he had forgotten about the cuffs. What followed was pure slapstick. With both hands pinned and the shirt hanging free behind him, he flapped around the bathroom like an ungainly crow, trying to release himself and grunting with the effort. "Ow! Ow! Get off me."

"You okay in there?" The casual tone of Danny's voice did nothing to hide his concern.

"Fine," Adam lied. Turning, he caught a glimpse of his red face, beneath a wild mop of hair. The sight was ridiculous and, all of a sudden, a laugh bubbled up in his throat. "No, I'm not," he admitted at last. "Think you could help me? No jokes, though - promise?"

"I promise," Danny said innocently. Adam doubted his sincerity, but at this point, what choice did he have?

"Come in, then," he sighed.

The door swung open and Danny appeared. The look on his face was priceless. "Problem?" he managed, at last.

"No, Danny," Adam said archly. "This is how I always get undressed."

"Is it sad that I want to believe you?" his friend grinned. "Not a joke," he added, holding up his hands. "Just an observation."

"That's great. Thanks a lot, buddy. Think you could 'observe' a way for me to get out of this mess?"

"I could do that; sure. Turn around."

Obediently, Adam presented his bound hands to Danny, who began to fumble through the familiar blue fabric to the first pair of buttons.

"So weird..."

"What is?"

"You, in the boss's shirt... You feel any different, wearing it?"

"It's not a superhero costume, Danny." Adam paused. Dropping the sarcasm, he smiled, even though his friend couldn't see it. "Yeah, I did, kinda. Didn't feel a sudden need to sneak up behind people, though. Or a surge of grim determination... No new ninja skills, either."

"Mac's a marine, not a ninja," Danny corrected him solemnly. "There! First hand's free."

"Thank you." Adam's gratitude was heartfelt. "I can do the other one - I think." Turning back to face his friend, he caught the direction of Danny's gaze and flinched. "Oh. Yeah... that. Talk about overkill. You think maybe the doctor just wanted to practice her bandaging technique?" Bereft of lightness, the joke fell horribly flat.

"Buddy, you're a mess. Look at the state of you."

"Is this a pep talk? 'Cause, really..." Adam's voice tailed off, as a new thought occurred to him. "I wish I could. Look at it, I mean. You saw it, right; in Lindsay's photos? And Stella, and Hawkes... and the boss-man. Let's face it, the whole lab's probably seen it by now and I'm the only one who doesn't know what's been scrawled across my back by some knife-wielding lunatic! Awesome."

"Hey - hey! Calm down, okay?" Danny reached up to tug on Adam's shirt-bound wrist as he fumbled with the bandage that hid his wound. "You pull that off, you're goin' straight back to the hospital."

"Dammit..." Adam's hand dropped and he hung his head, defeated. Trouble was, this put him right in Danny's line of sight. The two men stared at each other in silence.

"Yes, I saw it," Danny said eventually. "But if you think that Lindsay would flash it around the lab like some kind of sick entertainment..."

"I don't. I'm sorry." Adam shook his head. "I know you guys are trying to help me. It's just so frustrating, not knowing..." And then he looked; really looked at his friend and the shock of his own selfishness made his cheeks burn in humiliation. "Oh God, Danny; that was a dumb thing to say. You don't need me to tell you that. Please don't hate me..."

"What?" For a moment, Danny seemed truly confused. "You mean this ride of mine? Adam, buddy, you've been mugged. Just 'cause I'm in a wheelchair doesn't mean you can't feel sorry for yourself."

"But you don't." Adam's tone was full of quiet admiration. "That is... I mean, you fight it. All the time - I've seen you."

"Oh, come on! You kiddin' me?" Danny laughed out loud; a cheerful sound that lifted the whole conversation. "Okay, do me a favour and tell Lindsay what you just said. She needs a good chuckle. She's been gettin' this frown line between her eyebrows lately... Adam, I'm the worst patient in the world."

"Is it sad that I want to believe you...?"

"Ouch! Usin' my own words against me - that's harsh."

Both men grinned shyly.

"Enough," Danny told him, at last. "I'll get Lindsay, or one of the others, to email... no, to bring you a copy of the pictures. Till then, forget about it, okay? Won't do no good to dwell on things like that. Trust me, Adam."

Rolling backwards, he left the bathroom. Adam finished getting changed in silence. The last thing he did was fold Mac's clothes neatly before placing them on the lid of his washbasket. Somehow, it felt right to treat them with respect, rather than simply slinging them in with the rest of his laundry. He smiled at his own actions and then walked out, holding himself stiffly. Time to see what Danny was up to in his kitchen - a scary thought.

He was met by a frown, and the smell of hot coffee. "Your fridge is bare, man. And I couldn't reach your cupboards - but I'm guessing there wouldn't be much point. Am I right?"

"Um... yeah."

"Do you ever go shopping, Adam?"

"I do. I did. That's where I was, when..." In spite of his wish to be strong, Adam found that he still couldn't finish the difficult thoughts. He clenched his teeth and tried again. "When I got mugged, okay?"

"Oh." Danny paused, disconcerted. "Anyway," he continued, after a moment, "the coffee jar was plenty full. Guess I know what your priorities are. And I found some milk right here on the counter; a little warm but fresh enough. So, drink up. I called Stella and she's comin' over just as soon as she can with some real food. You can't live on cookies and cake; or - what's this? - some kinda pie?"

"They were gifts from my next door neighbour. I stopped there to pick up my spare keys. Detective Flack was very charming..."

"Ah." Clearly that explained everything to Danny's satisfaction. He smirked and held out the steaming mug of coffee. "Will you cope till Stella gets here?"

Strange, to feel so defensive and yet, at the same time, so full of warmth. "I'm fine, Danny," Adam said, trying not to sound ungrateful. "I can manage on my own - I just need some rest. You guys are busy, okay? I'll sleep today and see you back at work tomorrow."

"Says you." Danny held out his hand. "Prescription?"

Adam fetched it from the coffee table where he had tossed it last night, and passed it to his friend, who was already heading towards the door. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For this - and for everything."

"Hey - friends, right? You'd do the same for me; I know that." Danny spun round to face him. "Lock the door behind me."

A tiny shiver ran down his spine; an echo of Danny's concern. "I will."

Adam continued to watch as he rolled away down the corridor. The whoosh of the elevator dropping was a lonely sound. For the first time since the attack, he was truly on his own - and alarmed to discover how much that frightened him. Part of him wanted to race after Danny and beg him to come back. Instead, he did the bravest thing he could, under the circumstances. He stepped back into his apartment and closed the door.

Standing in the middle of the silent room, he held back a shudder. Distraction - that was the key. Raising his mug, he took a sip but the coffee tasted bitter and so he tipped it down the kitchen sink. "Sorry, Danny," he murmured. Elma's tin sat nearby on the table. Without even thinking, he opened it and stared at the last piece of cake. His stomach was growling by now, but his brain was repulsed by the thought of food and he didn't know quite what to do about that. "Gotta eat something," he decided in the end, and rammed the cake into his mouth. It felt claggy and far too sweet. He chewed and chewed, and swallowed it down, using all of his willpower just to keep it there. Not pleasant. He followed the cake with a long drink of water and that did help, so he filled the glass a second time and took it with him to the bedroom, setting it down on his nightstand with exaggerated care. His fingers were trembling slightly and he frowned at them. "Stop that."

It took three attempts to lie down on the bed without missing it completely. Each time he bent down, his head began to spin and he had to straighten up again. At last, he made it and the feeling was bliss. So soft and welcoming. He curled up on his side, letting his poor, aching body adjust to this new position.

His eyes drifted shut and sleep overwhelmed him, taking him prisoner. Nightmares rocked him, each one more terrifying than the last. The dark thread that linked them was pain. Adam whimpered but could not break free.

Time passed; minutes disguised as hours, until a sharp noise woke him, dragging him back to reality. Elma, he thought; but the walls were silent. This sound was further away, and insistent. "Stella!" he cried with relief.

Rolling off his bed, he hit the floor. Unexpected, but not a disaster. He hauled himself up and staggered through the apartment, weaving awkwardly. "Don't go! I'm coming," he called out. His fingers were clumsy but he was stubborn and soon the lock gave way. He yanked the door open and froze in disbelief.

Not Stella.

The figure in the corridor was Jade.

Dumbfounded, he stared at her. "Wh-what...?" he stuttered.

"Didn't we do this already?" she smiled, holding out a bulging paper bag that smelled surprisingly delicious. "What am I doing here? Checking on you, of course. Aren't you going to ask me in?"

Without even waiting for his reply, she slipped past him, so close that her long hair tickled his face. "Wh-what..?" he tried again, clutching the bag to his chest. It felt warm, and he peered inside. Freshly baked croissants, filled with brie and bacon.

"Breakfast," Jade said, lifting the rubbish from his coffee table and dropping it onto the floor beside the couch. She patted the wood with her hand. "Put it here. We can eat it together."

"I... what?"

"Is that all you can say?" She peered at him. "Adam, you look like a ghost. Were you sleeping?"

He nodded and closed the apartment door, but did not move closer. His palm began to sting as the warm croissants weakened the paper bag, threatening to drop right through. Jade frowned.

"Don't you trust me?"

"No," he blurted; unable to stop himself.

Laughing, she danced towards him and twitched the bag out of his hand, tossing it onto the table behind her. "Honesty. Nice. Tell me why, then, Adam Ross? What's the matter with me?"

Where to start? He leaned against the door and tried to think of a way to explain without offending her. "You're beautiful," he whispered, "and... and smart..."

"That's not bad, is it?" Jade teased him.

"No, of course not, but..." Deep down, he knew what he wanted to say. It was just so hard to say it. "You feel wrong, okay? I'm sorry," he added unhappily, watching her dark eyes grow narrow. "I need to know... why were you there, Jade? Yesterday, when I was... when they attacked me?"

"I told you." Her voice was sharp, like broken glass, and no longer quite so amused. "I came to see if you were home from work. You seem like a nice guy, Adam, and I was a jerk. I wanted to apologise in person. That's the way I am."

"Then you didn't... you weren't... you know; what you said? Stalking me?"

Jade moved closer. She was tall - really tall. Adam tried to step back but there was nowhere to go.

"You've been through something terrible," she said, "so I'll pretend I never heard that. Humour, Adam. I was joking, remember? Or maybe you think it was me who attacked you..."

He gulped. Could she read his mind? Jade loomed over him, clouding his thoughts with her perfume. Poison Ivy, he thought dizzily. "Okay, but Detective Flack... he knew you."

"So - what? That makes me the bad guy?" She frowned. "Did I get it wrong? Are you just like the rest of them? Don't make me sorry I rescued you - or bought you breakfast."

Her hand moved quickly and he flinched, but she was reaching for the door handle. Burning with shame, he slipped to one side. Did he want her to leave? No, not like this, he thought. Yes, she had brought him breakfast - and he had insulted her. Who was the bad guy? He was.

"Stop," he said. "Please stay. You're right; I'm not myself. It's just been a really weird couple of days."

Jade let her hand drop and folded her arms.

"Thank you," he added. "For saving my life."

"And?"

"And for the breakfast?" He offered her a wary smile as she stepped backwards.

"Much better. Now then - you need to sit down before you fall down. I'll fetch some plates. You do have plates?" she quizzed him. "Clean ones?"

Adam nodded as she steered him to the couch. Her hands were firm on his shoulders, and he was just too weary to resist. The smell of the croissants was starting to fill the whole room by now and suddenly he found that he was starving. Slipping his fingers into the bag, he pulled off a flaky corner and popped it into his mouth. Heaven. Jade caught his eye from the kitchen and smiled. Feeling bolder, he reached out for more.

The knock at the door made them both jump.

"I'll get it," Jade sang out, before he could think about struggling to his feet.

Moving quickly, she headed across the room - and a scene popped into Adam's head that was quite alarming. Jade and Stella, face to face, like a pair of bristling cats. Which would make him... what, exactly?

Nervous, he thought. Very nervous.

The door swung open.

-xx-

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing/following/favouriting this story lately (and also some of my others)! You're amazing, and your comments make my day.