So far this story has been mainly focused on Lance's p.o.v., but in order to write this next scene I needed to get out of his head. He is sleeping right now. :) Time for Mama Cam to step in, since Mama Bones is away!
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Love and hugs to those following and especially reviewing this story. Reviews bring me utter joy and make me want to keep writing on my breaks from painting! I wish I had time for individual responses and hopefully will soon. xo
Cam and Bea were in the waiting room of the hospital, while Lance lay unconscious down the hall. By the time they heard that Lance had been brutally attacked just around the corner of the Jeffersonian, it was a full day later. Cam worried that Lance wouldn't have anyone there when he woke up, and Bea agreed that she and Cam could take shifts waiting for this event, though Bea hardly knew the kid. He had seemed kind to her when she met him, and his gentle brown eyes had touched her for some reason. Lance Sweets seemed like he had a good soul—Bea had an intuition about people.
At this moment, Bea's and Cam's shifts had overlapped and they were catching each other up on the case. Cam was shaking her crossed leg anxiously as she chatted. She wished she hadn't been so harsh with Dr. Sweets over Michelle just before he had been hurt.
Agent Perotta appeared in the hallway and swiftly approached the two women. She looked all business as usual—short, sturdy, and determined.
"Dr. Saroyan. Dr. Vu. I've become acquainted with the fact that your current victim has a potential connection to the Gravedigger. Needless to say, the FBI is not happy you've hidden this from them. But we can discuss that later." Agent Perotta's expression was hard to read, but there was a hint of irony under the surface of professionalism.
Cam rolled her eyes.
"I'm here to talk to Dr. Sweets about his attack. His assailant was not captured, but we found a tazor at the scene of the crime. We think this Gravedigger copycat may have been targeting people working on this case. We were able to take some DNA evidence from under Dr. Sweets' fingernails, but the FBI is hesitant to release the evidence to you given your recent transgression," Perotta finished, almost smirking now.
Cam and Bea began verbally protesting, when Agent Perotta lifted her hand. "I don't really care about the FBI's protocol. I know you're the best at what you do. I'll see what I can do to get you some of the evidence."
"Thank you," Cam said quickly.
A doctor approached the three women. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I'm Dr. Chambers. Did I hear correctly that you are here for Lance Sweets? He seems to be rousing, and I wanted to ask someone who knows him a few questions," the doctor said seriously.
Cam nodded. "We're here for Dr. Sweets. Will he be ok?"
Dr. Chambers shifted uncomfortably. "He will pull through. This is one tough young man. He's had nearly every bone in his body broken at some point." The doctor grimaced.
All three women exchanged shocked glances. Cam was extremely troubled by this revelation.
"When Dr. Sweets first came to us, we were able to speak to him for a few minutes before he fell into unconsciousness. He informed us that he has no next of kin, no people we should inform of his injuries. Is this true to your knowledge?"
Cam opened her mouth, then closed it. She realized she knew very little personal information about the young Dr. Sweets. He tended to only share information about things which happened within the context of work—like his relationship with Daisy. She knew zero about his past or life outside of the Jeffersonian.
"If he said that, it must be true," she responded. Cam thought of Michelle, and how she had lost everything in the world when her father died. Cam had wanted more than anything to save the 16 year old from a life of loneliness, and she was beginning to feel such empathy for Sweets. True, he was 10 years older than Michelle, but he was the baby of the Jeffersonian, which was in effect her nest. As much as they teased Sweets about his youth, Cam wanted to protect him.
Next to Cam Bea frowned and her maternal instinct stirred as well. After all, she had a six month-old baby and her hormones were raging. There was something about Dr. Sweets' face that made a person want take care of him.
"Well, if you are the only people available who know anything about this man, then I have to ask a few questions that may be uncomfortable for you." The doctor paused, looking extremely ill at ease. "I wonder if when he wakes up, we should tie him down to prevent him from hurting himself."
Cam exclaimed, "Excuse me! I'm sure that won't be necessary. Dr. Sweets is a professional psychologist." She was at a loss for what the doctor was talking about.
"I'm sorry, but we found evidence that he has tried to harm himself before—razorblade scars on his wrists. They were faint…but we don't like to take chances. This attack was severe and could greatly distress someone who suffers from depression or another mental illness."
Cam jutted out her bottom jaw defiantly and said coldly, "We will watch him. We'll be here for him. I know this man. He may be excitable, but he's loving and centered and sane." The news that Sweets had tried to kill himself was sinking in with incredible slowness.
"I don't mean to insult him. I'm just concerned," Dr. Chambers assured Cam.
Cam thought, Yeah, concerned about a lawsuit.
The doctor continued, "He will probably be able to be released in the next few days. Does he have somewhere safe he can go and be watched for the next few weeks?"
Cam said, "He can stay with me! With all due respect, Dr. Chambers, lots of people have had difficult pasts." Cam was thinking of her own. She had never harmed herself, but she had a terrible secret that had nearly destroyed her as a young woman. "Dr. Sweets is only 25, so the scars of his youth may still be visible. But what makes you think he is in danger of hurting himself after all of his adult training?" Cam was shaking a little with upset and anger.
Perotta and Bea remained silent, as neither knew Dr. Sweets very well. Perotta had turned away in embarrassment and was facing the window. Bea was staring down the doctor in solidarity with her new boss, of whom she was very fond.
Dr. Chambers gazed sadly at Cam and Bea and responded, "The wrist scars weren't the only scars on Dr. Sweets. His back and shoulders were covered with old marks—presumably from a whip. He looks like a slave from the 19th century. That evidence in combination with the old broken bones screams severe child abuse to me. The worst I've ever seen in 15 years of working at this hospital. Professional psychological training or not, it's hard to imagine coping with that level of…emotional pain."
Cam stood up. "Dr. Sweets has no one else in the world to help him through this time except me. I'll accept the responsibility for him. Please don't bond his wrists. You said he was waking up. Can we see him?"
Dr. Chambers nodded and began to lead Cam and Bea with Perotta trailing behind towards Lance's room. As they walked, the doctor explained that Lance had a concussion, a broken jaw that had to be wired shut for 6 weeks, and a broken leg below the left knee. He was bruised and shaken, but all in all, Lance had made it out of his attack with relatively few injuries. He would recover.
Lance blinked away a dreamless sleep and opened his eyes to excruciating pain. It was blinding white wherever he was, and he couldn't move anything—his head, his legs, his hands all felt immobilized. Confusion clouded his mind as he tried to take in his surroundings. He was in a hospital. Suddenly Cam's face and someone he could not place appeared in front of his field of vision.
"Dr. Sweets? Are you with us?" asked Cam serenely.
"Mmmm…" Lance tried to speak. Somehow he couldn't move his jaws apart. He remembered who the other person peering at him was—Bea the new computer person at the Jeffersonian.
"Don't try to speak. Your jaw has been wired shut," Cam said, a concerned look on her face. Lance was shocked. His jaw?
Bea jumped in, "You were attacked. You're going to be ok. You have a broken leg, jaw, and a concussion.
Damn, thought Lance. Another concussion! Pretty soon his IQ was going to be in the gutter. This was the third concussion he had suffered in his life. Then Lance thought about his jaw and wondered how ugly he appeared—a vain thought that almost made him laugh except his jaw was wired shut.
Suddenly Agent Perotta emerged from the shadows. Lance felt his face grow hot. He had always found Agent Perotta attractive, and he hated that she would see him this way. His leg ached deeply now that he knew it was broken, and his brain was fuzzy.
"Dr. Sweets, we need to get some information regarding the physical appearance of your assailant. I know it may be difficult to talk, but can you try to describe him for me?" Perotta asked, her blond hair pulled into a long pony tail.
Lance swallowed. His throat was incredibly dry.
Cam physically pushed Perotta aside, like an angry mother hen, and said, "Not yet, Agent Perotta." Then she whispered to the agent (though Lance could still hear), "Didn't you hear what the doctor said? Give Dr. Sweets some space."
Now Lance did attempt to speak. It was incredibly painful and very hard to form distinguishable words with the wires in place. "What…did…he…say?"
Cam actually reached over and tenderly brushed Lance's curls from his forehead, as if she were his deceased mother. A little embarrassed at the gesture Lance blushed again, but it felt good to be cared for.
"Don't worry about it, Dr. Sweets. You're going to be just fine with some rest. The doctor said you'll be able to leave in a few days and then you're coming home with me and Michelle."
Lance tried to protest, but Cam wouldn't hear of it.
"You need help. Your leg is severely broken, and it's going to be hard to eat anything. I won't take no for an answer and neither will Michelle. She's a big fan of you!" Cam added laughing. Now their disagreement over Michelle's lost virginity hardly seemed important.
Lance's eyes filled with tears at Cam's kindness, which made him even more embarrassed. He turned away.
Bea stepped forward and said, "Cam, Lulu, and I will visit you until you leave the hospital. Get some sleep. We'll see you soon."
"Agent Perotta," Lance mumbled, trying to look at the pretty agent. He continued with difficulty, "All I know is the man who attacked me was short—maybe 5'7?—and possibly with black hair. I didn't get a good look. Sorry." He winced.
"That's ok. Thanks for the information. I hope you feel better soon," Perotta said with an uncharacteristically gentle tone. She departed abruptly.
A few minutes later, Lance was able to drift off to sleep surrounded by Cam and Bea, who seemed like the most comforting people in the world right now. For now, at least, he was at peace.