A is for Anesthesia

Chapter 2

Flashes of light and snippets of sound. Disorientation.

"Agent Granger! Can you hear m…! fade out,

"Colby! Open your eyes, try to st…!" David's voice

The irritating wail of a siren. A jolting ride.

"Ow!" the sharp jab of a needle. He was inexplicably unable to move his arms. He clinched his eyes shut against the intrusion of a penlight but they were pried open. Colby followed the hand holding the light up the arm it was attached to. The face both belonged to was unfamiliar.

Snatches of conversations.

"Pressure's rising! Let's ge…!" fade out again

A rush of cool air hit his face as doors of the ambulance were flung open and the gurney was wrenched out and pushed thru the ER doors.

"What have we got?!" a strange voice asked. He tried to find its owner but was unable to focus. Colby missed the reply.

"I thi… I th.." He tried to convey he thought he was about to be sick again but couldn't form the words in time. His stomach rolled like a tank navigating rough terrain. He started to retch again. To his vague relief, somebody, he might never know who, was ready. A basin appeared just in time. Another fade out.

Beep!... Beep!... Beep!... Beep!... Gradually the rhythmic sound of the of the vital signs monitor he was hooked up to penetrated the anesthesia induced haze his brain was wrapped in. Colby very slowly opened his eyes to see the unmistakable surroundings of a hospital recovery room. He moaned softly, barely registered the fact that he was no longer nauseous or in pain, and was asleep again.

When he next awoke, it was to a much quieter environment. The subdued lighting of the room he was in was assisted minimally by the lowered light coming from the hospital corridor. Turning his head, Granger could see the dusk of the L.A. sky thru the room's large picture window. Reversing direction, he looked to his right to see David and Don standing near the entrance, discussing a file Don held by the light coming thru the door glass. He cleared his throat to speak, alerting both the other men to the fact that he was now awake. Don closed the file as he and Sinclair shifted their focus to the newly conscious Colby.

"Hey, partner. How do you feel?" David asked, keeping his voice pitched low.

"Better, I guess" Colby whispered hoarsely, clearing his throat again. "What…what happened to me?" Lingering effects of the anesthesia fogged his mind, making his tongue feel thick. Speech was difficult.

"You really know how to liven up a day at the office, Colb." This was Don. "Appendicitis. Acute no less. Docs said if we'd waited any longer to get you here, the thing would have burst on you. Which was about a half hour from happening. Would've been much worse then."

'Yeah" David added, unable to resist needling the helpless Colby. "Good thing you swooned at my feet like a little girl!"

Colby gave him the fish-eye. "I didn't swoon" he declared with as much indignation as his depleted condition would allow. "I had appendicitis? I thought it was just dinner from the night before coming back to bite me! Wait, People don't pass out from appendicitis."

"Well, it was a lot more than that. You were also still physically worn down, and just so you know, that roast beef was a little suspect, but, uh, you're gonna be fine now. Docs whipped you into surgery and yanked that sucker out in record time." Don informed him. "Gave you what they called a 'laparoscopic appendectomy' That wouldn't have been possible if the appendix had ruptured, so in a way, you lucked out."

"Look, Colby, there's an entire waiting room full of people anxious to see you. I think the nursing staff is starting to get a bit testy about it. I'm gonna start ferrying 'em in here one or two at a time so we can clear the place out and you can get some rest, ok" With that David disappeared, making his way to where Nikki, Liz, Charlie, Amita, Alan and Larry waited.

Eventually, the waiting room did clear, as Colby's coworkers and friends filed in and then out of his hospital room after verifying his improving condition. As gratified as he was by their solicitude, he was even happier to see the last of them off so he could finally close his eyes. Between the appendicitis, the continuing effects of the anesthesia and the pain meds he was receiving thru the IV drip in his hand, stringing together a coherent thought, let alone a sentence was way more that he was equal to. With relief, he sleepily acknowledged David's "good night" and was out almost immediately.

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Granger's eyes opened to slits in the almost completely dark room. He lay still trying to identify what it was that had pulled him from his restless, slumber. His dream of a violent tussle with a suspect faded into the realm of the subconscious. Still groggy and medicated, he was not able to muster enough energy to stay awake for more than a few seconds. Hearing nothing, his senses dulled, he drifted off again and began to dream. He was back in the warehouse, grappling with the suspect, a man known to his leather clad biker buddies by the name of "Hammerhead" once more.

"Help! Someone please help me!"

The muffled plea jarred him awake once again. Not moving, trying to determine if the words were an echo of his dreams, Colby started when it was repeated.

"Help! Pleas…!" the sound cut off sharply, replaced by others too indistinct for his sub-par comprehension to sort out. Without warning, the wall behind his head vibrated when the one it adjoined was thumped hard. As hazy as his perceptions were, to Granger, it seemed that someone in the neighboring room was in serious difficulty.

With a tremendous effort, he sublimated his body's eagerness to slip back into the refuge of sleep. Slightly more awake, he eased himself into a sitting position, emitting low level gasps as his injured abdominal area protested. Perspiration beaded his forehead as he swung out of bed, ultimately getting both feet flat on the floor. Drawing in a deep breath, he stood, latching onto the bed's railing with a white-knuckled grip as his balance threatened to desert him. He could still hear faint sounds of the apparent struggle taking place next door. Steeling himself, he took two halting steps towards the doorway but felt a tug. He looked down. His fuzzy mind had failed to take the IV into account. Disconnecting it, he continued his stumbling advance for the exit.

After what felt like an eternity, he reached the hallway and stuck his head out, seeing it empty. He was in W428. His destination was five feet and a continent away. He kept moving, shuffling along with deliberation. Achieving the goal of room W430, Colby shoved the door open with the last of his waning strength. The scene which awaited him was surreal.

His blurred vision, complicated by lightheadedness, took in two figures dressed in black clothing hovering over one clad in the pale green of a hospital gown now lying still in the bed. A shiny, sharp looking implement disappeared from sight as the two standing swung around to see Granger swaying unsteadily in the doorway, convinced he was witnessing a murder in progress.

"What…what the…what's going on here? What…are…you…do…doing? Get…get…way…from him." His befuddled brain belatedly seized at a notion that made perfect sense in his confused state.

Both the attackers were clearly discomfited at being interrupted. Cursing, they advanced on the woozy FBI agent.

"F…F…FB…FBI...st…stop!" Granger sputtered with all the surgery depreciated force at his command. It didn't have the effect he would have preferred. They kept coming. In no shape to mount a defense, Colby realized he might be forced to anyway. He tried to set himself in some sort of a protective posture but didn't get the time. Before his painkiller influenced muscles could react, they were on him. Readying for an assault, Granger was instead roughly shoved back out into the corridor, noisily upsetting a cart loaded with medical supplies. His legs, determining enough was enough, gave way, and he slumped against the far wall. Dimly he registered the pair of assailants vanishing thru the marked stairwell door as the nursing staff, drawn by the commotion, put in an overdue arrival. Colby rested his head on the cool tile of the floor, too wrung out to do more.

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