Misconceptions pt. 36

John pushed the heavy door wide and stepped through it, feeling an incredible weight lift from his shoulders. He was out of that damn cell and he definitely didn't miss it. He walked the hallway slowly. The squadroom was bustling around him, allowing him a few moments of obscurity, but they were moments that were short-lived. Officers from every direction were pinning him with surprised stares. They tried to act as though they weren't looking, but their backwards glances were burning into his skin and making him feel something entirely new. He felt uncomfortable.

He frowned, trying to come to terms with his situation. He's been a cop for a lot of years, but for the first time in his life, no longer belonged among them. It was disheartening, and a little overwhelming. Well, it was what it was, and he wasn't about to weep over it. Things were done and choices were made, and he knew that there would never be any regrets about doing what was right, no matter the price.

He took an even breath and searched for Natalie amongst the constantly moving crowd. She was nowhere to be found, but he could see Mike.

John went to the office and stepped inside uninvited, happy to see the grin that spread over his brother's shocked face. It was a relief to know that someone was glad to see him. "So? Thanks for the hospitality," he joked, "but I think I'll pass on the room."

Michael hung up his phone and got to his feet, quickly moving around his desk. He shook the outstretched hand eagerly. "Jesus, you have nine lives! Does this mean that Clayton took the stick out of his ass?"

John smirked, but kept silent. He didn't have to respond, because the man in question joined in the conversation from the open doorway.

"I did the job that needed doing, Detective," he refuted. He sighed, staring at John. He should be paying attention to the McBain in authority at the moment, but old habits died hard. He was still used to dealing with his agent...former agent. "Cameron just called in over the wire. He's made the arrest."

"What arrest?" John felt his heart stop beating in his chest. God! Were they arresting Natalie again?

Michael reached out and touched his shoulder in reassurance. "He got Carpenter to talk and went after the shooter."

John frowned again. "Cameron?"

"Yeah, Cameron. The man is good at his job, John."

He disagreed, but didn't have the strength or desire to dispute the appraisal. "So it's over." He ran a hand over his face, and rubbed his neck. His shoulders were stiff with tension, and he yawned, unable to hide his exhaustion. It's been a rough couple of days. "Where is she Mike?"

Gina had her face in the Max Carpenter interrogation notes, reading the material as she walked toward the Commissioner's office. She stopped suddenly, hearing a very familiar voice. Her head turned and her breath caught. "John?" She stepped closer.

He blinked, seeing her shock and he grinned. "Long time, no see?"

She entered the room and looked toward her boss. Her mind was racing with questions, first and foremost being, is this what it seems?

Clayton nodded, answering her without words. He looked to the younger McBain and held out a hand. They shook. "Well, we've got our embezzler and now our cop killer, so..."

"Our cop killer," Michael quickly corrected. The FBI had dibs on Cramer because it was a Federal crime, but it was his man who was murdered. He was not going to budge on this one, no way in hell!

Andrew could see the resolve on the young man's face. He was digging in his heels, and he nodded again. "Your cop killer," he ammended. "I do believe that it's time to head out?" There was a silence in the office. "Rowland, finish up so that we can get back into the world." He glanced at Michael. "No offense." Then he lightly tapped John in the arm as he strode to the door and exited without another word.

John saw a pair of wide eyes on him. He turned to his brother. "Mike, give us a minute."

"Sure, I want to check up on Jase anyway." He left the office to do exactly that.

"You're not coming with us, are you?" She already knew the answer. "You live for your job, John."

He sighed softly, stepping up to her and looking down. "Things change." He tilted her chin slightly, taking a good look at her beauty. "Take care of yourself, Rowlands. I won't be there to have your back."

She felt an incredible sadness. "I'll miss you, McBain," she said truthfully. She slowly rose onto her toes and kissed his cheek softly. There was breath in the room when their eyes collided, and it finally, really hit her. This was it.

John missed her already. He licked his lips and tore his eyes over her shoulder, feeling his stomach tighten at the sight of Natalie in the doorway - and she was pissed! He straightened and braced himself for the inevitable fight that was coming, but despite the awkwardness of the moment, she looked so good! His heart swelled a little. "Hey," he greeted weakly. She was beautiful.

She reacted instantly to his heated gaze, but pushed that aside. Now was not the time, not with the blonde kissing him and giving him doe-eyes. She walked closer, ignoring him and zeroing in on the Fed. "I thought we talked about this already?"

Gina laughed and placed her hands on her hips. "That's right, I forgot." She turned to her friend. "You know where to find me." She shook her head in amusement, and left to get this case wrapped up.

When they were alone, Natalie felt all her strength disappear in an instant. Now there was only nerves. She slowly, cautiously found his waiting eyes. "So? I guess Clayton let you go?" Her heart was pounding ferociously. He simply nodded, continuing to paint her with his sultry gaze. "And the case is over?" Again, he nodded. She couldn't pinpoint what emotion was more controlling, so she stopped trying. "When do you leave?"

He frowned. "Natalie..."

Michael entered his office, surprised to find his brother with an entirely different woman. "Hey Nat, nice work!" He slapped her back lightly and went to his desk. "Listen, Cameron is on his way here."

She frowned. "Yeah, and?"

"He's bringing your shooter with him." He stared hard. "I need you to ID the man."

She nodded slowly, turning to John, who did not look very happy at all. "What?"

He stepped closer and placed his hands on his hips. "The guy almost killed you, Natalie!" She was confused, and so was he. He should be encouraging her to put him away where he belongs, he knew that, but he was scared. There have been too many close calls for them.

"But he didn't."

"But he almost did!" He couldn't let this go. It just seemed like a recipe for disaster.

She took a breath and stared directly into his eyes. "He didn't kill me because I had you to watch my back." She smiled softly. "You planning on going anywhere?"

Unbelievable! "No," he answered, truthfully.

"Well then, there's nothing to fear. I've got two McBains on my side." She glanced between the brothers. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in the ladies room." She left them where they stood.

John focussed on his baby brother. "Ten minutes Mike, and I want him shackled at all times."

Michael held up his hands. "Alright! We'll do this your way John." He pointed to a chair and watched as he took the seat reluctantly. Then he sank into his own seat. "It'll be fine. She'll identify him and it'll finally all be over."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Promise?" When he looked up, he could see the concern that was directed his way. "I'm just tired."

He didn't believe him. That wasn't all this was. "Well that's understandable."

John continued to stare. "I'm also unemployed."

Michael wasn't sure what he had been expecting to hear, but he knew it wasn't that? "Wow."

"Yeah, wow."

His heart was pounding. Fired? He should feel grateful that was the only bad news and John wasn't going to prison, but he felt a huge sadness. "I'm sorry, brother."

John grinned. "Don't be. I'll live, and I'll do it as a free man."

"But will you do it alone?"

He didn't answer. They just stared, while a telling silence filled the room around them. A silence that made both men very nervous.

Cameron sat in the passenger seat of the squad car. He watched the world around him as they made their way toward the station, and it reminded him why he was a cop. To protect society from criminals who would prey upon them without a moments hesitation. Just like the scum that was handcuffed and sitting in the back. Tony Rupert. A man who has managed to stay under the radar his entire dark life, but who was as mean as they came. But he would go to jail for murder, and then Loraine and the kids could try to find peace with what happened in that traincar. Rupert was a cop killer, and he would suffer for it. He would make sure that he suffered for it.

His mind wandered to John McBain again, wishing like hell that he never had the misfortune of meeting the man. As far as he was concerned, he was nearly as bad as the hardass in his backseat. Sure, he wasn't a murderer, but it was because of him that a good man was dead. If John would have kept little johnny in his pants, the redhead would never have lasted as a wanted fugitive. She would have been busted at the bait shop along with Balsom, and wouldn't have escaped to run to the train station.

It was John's fault, and he hated him. He sighed, pulling himself out of his head when they parked in front of the little building with the sign on it. It read, Llanview Police Deparment in large black lettering. He turned to the asshole behind him. "We're here, sweetheart." He got out and led his prisoner through the doors, eager to toss his ass in a cell and throw away the key. This was one lowlife who wasn't going to be walking out the front door anytime soon. No way!

Once inside the squadroom, Tony's demeanor changed. He was no longer the stoney, silent type, but a man who appeared to be entertained by his circumstance. He focussed on the cop who had the hate-on for him. "Listen, I'll call my lawyer now, and she's going to hand your balls to you in a baggy." He chuckled.

Jason grabbed his arm and shoved him into a wooden chair across from his desk. "Shut it!" He joined him, and searched for the form that would essentially get the arrest-ball rolling. He stared into his sparkling eyes and wanted to deck him. A nose bleed would vastly improve his looks. "Name?"

Rupert laughed. "You know my name. You read me my rights, and I wish to exercise my right to remain silent, except to say this: you've got nothing. Some two-bit, short order cook fingers me and you think that'll stick?" He stared hard. "You're a joke, man."

Cameron sat back and felt an ease wash over him. "We have an eye witness."

"No you don't, because I wasn't there." The cop didn't speak. "Alright, who?"

"That would be me."

Tony found himself face to face with a very beautiful woman. "Well, well, Natalie Buchanan."

Jason stood from his chair. "How do you know her if you weren't there?"

"Are you kidding me? She's a Buchanan for Christsake!" He laughed lightly again, raking his eyes over the woman's ample curves. "Honey, if I had you alone in a traincar, then I could think of a lot of things we could do together." He sneered. "Killing you isn't high on the list."

She lifted her hands to her slender hips, and held up to this man's scrutiny. She saw the tatoo on his neck and the goatee on his chin. She licked her lips. "You can lie all you want, but it was you and we both know it!"

He smiled. "It's your word against mine, darlin'."

She batted her eyelashes playfully, finally allowing a smile to stretch her red lips. "Well, I'm a Buchanan. Who the hell are you?" She chuckled when he flashed an angry stare her way, because it was her turn to laugh.

"Nat?" John was watching the exchange from the doorway. He didn't like the way the creep was eyeballing her, and he liked her attitude even less. This was not a man to trifle with, he was a hired killer, a professional, and the thought of how close he came to taking her life made his blood run cold. She spun and found his eyes, and then his heart began to beat. She walked up to him slowly. "Let Mike take your statement and be done with it."

She could see how nervous John was about her proximity to her assailant. His eyes kept darting over her shoulder, and it made her ache in her chest. He was worried. "Okay, John." She stepped past him and did as he asked, recounting the event to his brother. When they were done, she signed the sheet of paper. "So," she began, "what now?"

John continued to watch the arrestee from the doorway. He glanced at her, as she stood and waited for his next move. Her heart was pounding because he could see the pulse at the base of her neck. It made him bite his lower lip gently. "I don't know about you, but I want to get the hell out of here!" She laughed, and it warmed his soul. She moved across the room, and suddenly all his attention was on her and her alone.

"Okay." She wanted to take him with her, and that's what she was going to do.

Michael watched the two of them and it made him uncomfortable. They weren't even touching one another, but he felt like he was witnessing something private and seductive. He joined them in his doorway. He was suddenly very upset. Would John take off now? "So," he began, "what's next for you?"

John blinked, feeling on the spot. He could see the fear in his brother, and it made him calm a little. "Relax, Mike. I won't make a move without seeing you first, okay?" He swallowed, trying to ignore Natalie's intense stare. She had her own questions for him he knew, but they would wait just a little longer. They needed some privacy.

Michael took a breath, and decided to take his brother's advice. "Nat, follow me and we'll go get your belongings. Then you are officially a free Buchanan."

She nodded and went to collect what they took from her when she was placed under arrest. It was time to move on from this, and it was time to find out where her and John stood? She felt a heat flood through her at the thought. They would finally be alone, with no one chasing them. It felt too good to be true, and that scared her to death.

John stared at the elevator doors as they climbed floor after floor. He glanced at her here and there, but generally felt strange. Things have been strained, and the ride over was the most uncomfortable he's ever had in his life. He felt awkward and angry, and very confused about everything. When he was in that cell all he could think about was being with her, free to touch her and talk to her and be with her, and now that his wish has been granted it isn't what he had hoped. He wasn't sure what it was?

The car finally stopped moving, and there was a loud ding to signify the end of the ride. As though he wasn't capable of knowing that on his own. The doors opened and he trailed behind her, and what he saw took his breath away. He stopped short, gaping at the apartment that lay before him. It was as big as his childhood home, maybe even bigger? His heart thumped, drawing his gaze to her delicate face. She was watching him closely. "You have your own elevator?" He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice, and after everything, couldn't be bothered to try anyway.

She smiled softly, touching the collar of the shirt that she was wearing. It was faded and worn, and would be finding its way into the nearest garbage can. Along with the blood stained evening gown that was folded in her hands, hidden within a large manilla envelope. Part of the effects that she had collected at the front desk of the station. "Come on in," she offered politely, walking into the room with ease.

She forgot sometimes, what it was like for people when they first came here? How impressive an establishment it really was? That was the point. She was an AC girl who made it into money, and she wanted everyone to know who she was now, not the girl she was then, but Natalie Buchanan.

John needed another moment to pull himself together, but this place threw him, plain and simple. It had high-vaulted ceilings and wide, white walls. He took one last look behind, shaking his head at the sight. No front door, but an elevator? That was something he only thought happened in the movies. The apartment was one large square space. He estimated close to 3000 square feet, though it was just a guess, and a conservative one. The kitchen was to the left, and it stretched along the wall and offered tremendous cupboard space. There was a long, slim island countertop, standing parallel to the wall. It was lower in height, made so on purpose. Anyone who really cooked would recognize it for what it was, a luxury. It allowed the user to prepare everything just above waist level, no reaching or stretching. It was a brilliant layout. The appliances were stainless steel and the stove was gas. It looked like an old, black iron piece, like something from the 1800s. It was beautiful. He swallowed, continuing on with his appraisal.

Straight ahead was a partition, if you could even call it that? Large sheets of guaze-like cloth hung from the roof, but they weren't there to keep prying eyes out. He could see the king sized four-poster bed on the otherside and he swallowed. The duvet was white and billowy. It matched the sheer cloth panels that dangled down. There was an entrance to a patio beside the bed, and he imagined it was no small space either? The french doors were open, and a breeze kept everything cool, it was nice. He looked to the right and spotted the sitting area. An orangy-red sofa and loveseat. Some mahogony end tables and fancy lamps. He grinned, noticing the thing that made the entire place come alive. A pool table. He turned to her and found her still watching him. Her hands were clutching the envelope in her hands tightly.

She swallowed. "You look surprised, but I'm a spoiled heiress who likes money, remember?" Her tone was light, but she couldn't help but recall that night at The Palace. Her heart beat frantically. He had implied that she was a whore.

John was very serious. "I'm surprised because that's not who you turned out to be, Natalie." He walked past her and moved through the cloth, entering the portion of the apartment that served as the bedroom. His fingers touched the soft threads of the duvet for a moment, and then he went to the terrace and strolled outside. It was better than he imagined. The view was stunning.

She didn't know why she was being so...distant, so bitchy, but it was a defense mechanism. What now? She couldn't even guess, and so she had to protect herself. She followed him and stood near the glass. "I think I have the best view of the city."

He turned and looked at her. "No, I think I do."

There was a hard pump against her ribs. "You must be hungry?" She was nervous again.

He shook his head adamantly. "No, I had a burger."

Natalie frowned. "When? In lock up?"

He sighed, feeling a pit form in his gut. "Yes, actually. Gina stopped by for a visit."

Gina? Her anger was back and it was fierce. She turned and went inside, heading to the kitchen for a bottle of cold water. She opened it and drank it down, enjoying the smooth refreshing liquid as it slipped past her throat.

John was tired. "Nat," he began, walking up to her and lightly grabbing her biceps from behind. She tensed, but he didn't let go. "I've known her for years."

Natalie took a breath, spinning to face him. It was hard to be this close. "She has the hots for you." She wasn't about to pull any punches.

He smiled. "Look, we're friends."

"What kind of friends?"

His eyes didn't waver. "We've been...friendly for awhile now." She was pissed and tried to walk away, but he trapped her between his arms and held her captive. "That was then, Natalie." He felt his control slipping with every rushed breath that she blew on his face. "That was my life before Llanview, before you." He wanted to touch her so he did, he couldn't help it. His fingers stroked the silk of her red hair with ease.

She wasn't ready to be vulnerable yet, so she opted for stalling. "It's been a long couple of days, John." He straightened. "Why don't we both get cleaned up?" He didn't move, so she flashed a grin. "Besides, you smell like jail."

He laughed and relaxed again. He wanted to taste her, every glorious inch, but she wasn't ready. And maybe he wasn't either? They were both exhausted beyond their limits. "Well, since you're my hostess, I guess the least I can do is wash up."

She bit her lip and moved closer, slowly stretching to place a simple, chaste kiss on his warm cheek. She saw the raw hunger in his diamond eyes, and was certain that it reflected her own expression. She walked him toward the adjoining bathroom, enjoying yet another stunned reaction.

He shook his head and looked her way. "This place is something else!" He went to have a shower and feel human again so that he could focus on what was important, the redhead who filled his heart completely.

She left him alone, needing some space. Things were so damn complicated. She sighed, drinking more water. Having him here with her felt really good. It felt right, even if it was weird. So they would talk, and they would finally be on the same page, probably for the first time since this whole fiasco began?

Natalie could hear the water running, and she felt a flush suffuse her body. Lord! She cautiously sat on her bed and reached for the nearby pillow. Her fingers squeezed tightly. She was so confused, and wasn't anymore clear now that he was naked in her shower. She missed him, ached for him, but the case was over so that had to mean that he'd be leaving soon?

A breeze picked up from the patio door, and she went to the deck for some much needed air - and hopefully for some clarity. The view was as stunning as always. There was the bustling city far below, and the docks to the left. She loved to look at the river as it meandered along the path that was set for it. She wished her path was set?

Her thoughts were becoming singular, and she needed to get a much needed grip. There was B.E. to think about, and the money. Where the hell was the money? What about her future in this town? She picked up her phone and called Sally, thankful that she was now free to do so without fear of incarceration. "Hey," she smiled softly, "yeah, it was a nightmare, but thank God it's over now."

She clutched her cell and stepped back into the bedroom, sighing as she continued past the half open door. She needed some space from John McBain, and opted to steer clear of the bathroom. "You already did? What would I do without you? We really need this. Another press conference will help get the company back on track." She went to her fridge while her assistant filled her in on all the necessary details of her day tomorrow. She sighed again, feeling a little defeated by the lack of sustenance. "Alright, tomorrow then."

Natalie ended the conversation, but held tight to her phone. She made another call. "This is Natalie Buchanan. Yes. I'm going to need a few things. Yes." She licked her lips and grabbed a cold beer from the bottom of her fridge. "That's right, I require immediate delivery." She made her desires known and then leaned against the counter. Her heart was thundering, and her eyes were staring through the fabric partition. He was still under the water, and she didn't even have to close her eyes to imagine him wet.

It was a slow, sweet torture. The rim of the beer bottle was cool on her lips, but it did little to cool her ardor. She swallowed the alcohol slowly, and she waited.

John was trying very hard to wrap his mind around the ostensively luxurious bathroom, but it was all so grandiose. The entire apartment could house a family of six comfortably, and yet she lived here alone. He knew that she liked money before he even laid eyes on her, but was only now beginning to see how much that were true. It didn't bother him, not really, it just...well, it surprised him. She was so fiery and down-to-earth that it was easy to forget that she was a Buchanan, and not just in name.

He slipped out of his wardrobe and instantly felt better. It was amazing how ditching a blood-stained pair of jeans and an oversized shirt made one feel more normal? He shook his head, grinning as he entered the shower stall. It was massive. There were two floor-to-ceiling panels of dark blue plexi-glass, marking a clear perimeter and separating the area from the rest of the room. The floor and wall were laid with smooth granite tablets that looked as though they belonged in a sculpted garden somewhere? They were cool to the touch, and he reached out and turned the single knob in the center. This entire shower experience augmented his self-worth, which was ridiculous because it was just a damn shower!

He watched in awe as the water literally crested from above, falling in a two foot wide waterfall. What the fuck? This was unbelievable! He turned and found every kind of product one could hope for in a strange bathroom, and he sighed, washing the day away. It felt really, really good.

He thought about a lot of things while scrubbing the soap into his scalp, but mostly he thought about his luck. He was free, and that was the best surprise of all. It pained him to think that he was no longer an Agent, or any other form of law enforcement. That was what he has built over the years, exceled at, but somewhere in the last week his priority shifted? He didn't need to work to prove to his father that he was the best, or to himself. The only thing he needed was to wrap his arms around a certain redhead...and maybe get some sleep?

As if on cue, his mouth opened wide, yawning loudly. The sound echoed between the walls. There was very good accoustics in here. He grinned again.

John finally pulled himself from the sumptuous stream, shutting off the tap. He toweled off and stared at the clothes that were crumpled on the ground, frowning. He couldn't bare the thought of climbing back into the nasty threads, so he chose not too. He simply wrapped a large white towel around his waist and ran his fingers through his hair, and then he left the sanctity of the bathroom.

Natalie was talking to some guy near the elevator, and he felt his brow furrow as he watched through the dangling cloth. He was young and well dressed, and looked fairly relaxed with her. He didn't like it one bit. She laughed and the sound sent a small chill down his spine, which only cemented the grip on his gut, but before his jealousy could really take off, the unexpected visitor stepped back into the elevator and disappeared the way he had came.

Natalie poked through the large, brown bags and spun around, only to find a nearly naked John watching her from the bedroom, and her heart stopped dead in her chest. He was dripping and toned, and he looked slightly pissed, which for some reason helped to fuel her lust rather effectively? She swallowed and walked over, feeling his gaze acutely. The man didn't need to actually touch a woman to have an effect. He had those damn eyes!

She held out her hand, slightly amused by his confusion, but he took the bags from her fists.

"What's this?"

She smiled. "They're for you." He slowly pulled out articles of clothing, taking in the simple black pants and button up top. "We can't very well have you running around in a towel, now can we?" She meant that to be light, playful, but when he looked at her...through her, her pulse spiked.

John was once again impressed by Natalie Buchanan. Not by her foresight or generosity, but by the fact that she nailed the sizes. Everything here could have been tailor-made for him, except that he knew better. "Thank you." He saw her nod, keeping her beautiful blue eyes on him, and he couldn't take it anymore. He reached out and pulled her into an embrace, tightening it for an extra second. She was stiff as a board, so he reluctantly eased up. The weirdness was still in the room with them, and until it was gone, he wasn't going to push for anything from her.

John looked over her shoulder and spotted some more bags on the counter. He smiled, already knowing what was inside. He strolled past her, not bothering to cover up with any of the pieces that were waiting on her bedspread. "Something smells good?"

She followed, pulling out containers of high-priced food. There were two peppercorn New York steaks, accompanied with roasted peppers and snow peas, and garlic mashed potatoes. "Well, I know that you had a burger," she paused, frowning at the reminder, "but I only had a twinky, so I'm starving." She found his eyes and nearly got lost in them. "After everything that has happened, I figured you might need more as well, so...?"

He slid his fingers in her hair and tucked the loose strands around her ear. She passed him a plate.

They didn't talk much, other than to communicate when something was needed - a passing of a dish, or a cold beer from the fridge. Despite the silence, both were finding it easier to be around one another. It wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't painful either. That was a step in the right direction.

When they were done eating and cleaning up, Natalie glanced toward her bedroom and felt her nerves again, but she wasn't in high school anymore. She cleared her throat. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted John?" She couldn't bring herself to ask him to stay with her outright, so she reached out and clutched his hand, and took a slow, deep breath into her lungs as they approached the bed. She pulled away the duvet and then turned, swallowing.

John let her take him to her bed, eager to share it with her, but for right now he would behave. He eased the bags of clothing from the covers and took out the knit boxers that were inside, slipping them on beneath his towel. He was very aware that she was watching him. It thrilled him, causing a shift in his stance. He returned the favour, feeling his chest get heavier as she lifted her top over her head and removed her jeans.

She slipped into the bed wearing nothing more than her bra and panties, and he nearly groaned aloud. He walked around the mattress and joined her, enjoying the softness of the sheets against his bare skin. He wanted to lighten the mood. "A guy could get used to this," he teased, petting the silk in appreciation with an obvious gesture of his hands.

She faced him, smiling shyly. "They're 300 thread count." Why the hell were they talking about the sheets?

"Is that all? Your standards are slipping, Buchanan."

She chuckled, yawning into her billowy pillow.

John stretched out and touched her cheek for a second, before pulling her closer. She wasn't breathing, and it made his awareness of her even more sharp. "Close your eyes," he instructed, turning her until her back was nestled against his chest. He heard her yawn again, and felt her begin to sink into slumber. He smiled, lightly kissing the top of her head.

They could deal with everything later. Right now, he was holding her, and that was pretty fantastic as far as he was concerned. His exhaustion got stronger with every new breath, and then he was out like a light.