A/N: Don't forget to vote in my poll on my profile page! There's a full explanation of the 8 choices at the end of the previous chapter. I'd love as many votes as possible to help me decide which to write :)
~xXx~
Chapter Fourteen
2012
Night-time brought nightmares; it was simply a matter of fact. Usually it was the same images again and again, memories of Manchester; the gunshot, the car, Robin's still and injured body in hospital and his soul lost and alone. But this time another nightmare joined it on rotation; a nightmare born from the memories of another gunshot fired almost a year ago from the twisted man with junk in his veins. Whether it had been the recent meetings for Layton's trial that had stirred things up for her, Kim didn't know, but the dreams she found herself at the mercy of that night replayed the shot that buried itself in her neck after passing straight through Robin as though he wasn't even there.
It was a nightmare she used to suffer repeatedly. In the aftermath of her shooting, the car crash and Alex returning to a coma the year before she had been plagued by replays in her dreams, the moment that the bullet passed right through Robin as though her was translucent. That was the start – the first instance of knowing that there was something different about Robin, that he wasn't entirely a part of the real world any more.
Over and over the scene played in a loop; the bullet that struck her, meant for someone else whose level of reality seemed to fade at that precise moment. The images brought sweat to her brow and a scream to the edge of her tongue until she could take no more.
And then, on the final go around, it was different.
Something changed.
~xXx~
1997
He had become used to nightmares in the short time they'd been apart, split by worlds. They were haunted by the sound of the squealing tyres he'd heard as he lay in the jewellery store, his life ebbing away, now knowing what the car had struck; the sound of her voice begging him to come back to her, scenes from the TV screen from the message that had found its way to him one night not long ago. They all haunted him, and once again they played through his mind.
Robin –
But this time there was something different. Snippets of scenes he didn't know filtered through between them. She was running, her legs were taking her at a frantic pace across an open expanse of land. Where was she heading? Why was her face so full of fear and torture, her eyes laden with pain?
Alright, page Doctor Masters and tell him that –
Beeeeeeeeeeeeep - -
What was she running to as she stopped dead in her tracks and dropped over a heap of… of something, clothes or – could have been some kind of giant rag doll. Was it a body?
Need the crash team in here. Now!
The sobbing – the wild, distraught sobs that could have edged into a scream of despair at any moment. They churned Robin up inside. Oh god, what was he even seeing? What was she going through? What –
Clear –
~xXx~
2012
The last time around and something was different. She hadn't expected it. So often had she relived the nightmare that she knew it off by heart, beat for beat, second for second like stage directions in a screenplay, but out of the blue the most fundamental part of the nightmare had changed. Suddenly the moment was different. The action altered. The second that changed all their lives was erased and re-written.
Layton turned, the gun clutched tightly in his hand. One finger squeezed the trigger and the damn bullet launched through the air once again. As always, Kim braced herself for the pain; the same pain she felt every time the dream replayed, but this time it wasn't to be.
The bullet never made it that far.
~xXx~
1997
He tried to fight his way towards the image of Kim, to find out what was happening, ignoring the strange voices that seemed to float in the air without ever truly making themselves heard to him. He pushed forward, running against the air, but no matter how hard his legs fought to take him forward he never seemed to get anywhere.
That was where the dream changed and morphed, twisted around on itself and a new image took its place. A familiar image… a moment that he'd lived through almost a year ago when his feet took him forward in pursuit of a man; a man whose name had suddenly come to the fore again.
He could see the inside of the falcon Building so clearly, he felt the urgency as Layton tried to make his getaway and heard the sound of the bullet as he fired it at Robin.
He's back… we've got him back…
But unlike before the bullet didn't pass through him and sink into the flesh of Kim's neck. This time it was Robin who felt the pain, Robin who took the shot, Robin whose skull was hit by the bullet and whose blood spilled as he dropped to the floor.
He tried to scream. This wasn't how it went. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
His nightmare had other ideas.
~xXx~
2012
She watched as the bullet struck him. For the first time ever in her dream he was solid and tangible and the bullet couldn't pass through the bone of his skull as it struck its intended victim finally. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the dream showed how things could have unfolded if only another world hadn't been laying its first claims to a man it now had in its grasp.
His body fell.
His blood pooled around him on the floor.
And she screamed.
She screamed and sobbed and cried her heart out as she stared at his lifeless face, the bullet embedded in his head and the last breath leaving his body.
As the scream transcended dream to reality and she awoke in her bed, her body rising in desperation and her throat raw from her terrified cries, she felt her heart beating so hard that she wasn't sure she could survive the fear from the images she'd just seen.
"No," she cried, her words broken by sobbing., "No, Rob –"
She heard footsteps in the hallway. Alex flew through the doorway, her expression full of concern.
"Kim, what's the matter?" she cried.
Kim turned to her, eyes wide with fear. She didn't know how to explain it; how the dream had affected her so deeply, how changing one element had brought her such a cold sense of fear. She found herself panting, just trying to get a little oxygen back into her lungs before she was able to say;
"Nightmare… I just had a nightmare, Ma'am. I'm sorry…"
"It must have been a very nasty one," Alex gently sat on the side of her bed, "Kim, you're sweating."
"Shit," Kim crossly wiped her forehead with her sleeve and closed her eyes.
"What happened?" Alex asked gently, "Can you tell me? Do you want to?"
Kim didn't know. She wasn't sure she wanted to relive it enough to explain. She swallowed and closed her eyes, breathing heavily all the while, then finally opened her mouth to tell Alex that it had been about Layton but the phone started to ring and caused an involuntary gasp from both of them. Coming out of the blue, the simple sound scared them both more than it should have done. Finally Kim gathered herself together enough to reach for the receiver by the bed.
"Hello?" she said hesitantly. Alex tried to read her expression as it went through several different emotions before she finally started biting on her lip and swallowed hard. "Thank you," she whispered, "I'll be right there."
Alex stared at her expectantly as she cut the call. She gave a slight nod to encourage her to talk.
"Well?" she asked.
Kim breathed deeply and returned her line of sight to Alex.
"That was the hospital," she whispered, "there's been a change in Robin's condition."
~xXx~
1997
It had never gone like that before.
Robin? Rob, for god's sake –
He used to have that nightmare a lot. In the early days after the event he would relive it time and again at night, in shock at the thought of a bullet passing right through his flesh and bone. Then, when he and Kim fell in love he would sometimes relive the part where the bullet struck her instead and wake in a cold sweat before prodding and poking her sleeping form beside him until she swore at him and told him to go to sleep, settling his mind that she was safe now.
But in all the times he'd had the nightmare it had never gone like that.
Robin, please – open your eyes. Oh fuck –
He saw himself. He saw his body on the ground, the blood spilling and his heart stopping. He heard screams of anguish and watched Kim bending over him, grasping his body, her tears falling onto his skin.
Robin!
Slap.
It had never happened like that before. It barely seemed real. How could it be real? That wasn't what happened. That wasn't –
"Rob!"
This time his eyes opened, the sound of someone yelling his name and the feeling of a hand striking the side of his face pulling him from the nightmare and dragging him back to consciousness. He was on the floor… what was he doing on the fucking floor? The underside of Gene's desk loomed large with wodges of chewing gum and graffiti about the various places that Gene and Alex had enjoyed themselves scrawled in black biro.
"Hmmmpff?" he mumbled, rolling his head a little from side to side as he tried to figure out what was going on. He blinked and focused on the face in front of him; Simon, looking haunted and desperate. His hand was already waiting in mid-air to administer another slap if necessary. "What…. Did you slap me?" Robin accused as crossly as his present circumstances would allow but his words were slightly slurred and his voice quieter than he was anticipating.
"Robin, you were –" Simon seemed to hesitate as a pair of large boots that Robin could only assume belonged to Gene moved closer in a slightly threatening manner, "I mean, you just passed out… flaked out right on the floor…. What was I supposed to do?"
"H-how about a slightly less violent wake-up method?" Robin asked, reaching up to rub his stinging cheek, "like lopping off a few toes or something."
"I was bloody terrified!" Simon cried.
Robin stared at him in absolute confusion, partly because he had no idea what had happened and partly because Simon's frantic expression seemed a little overboard for something as simple as passing out.
"I… I don't know what to say," he tried to push himself into a sitting position, "…sorry?"
He found himself hauled to his feet rather unceremoniously by Gene and pushed back into his chair.
"Stop overreacting, Shoebury, " he said, "if I'd been looking at mugshots of Layton I'm not sure I'd want to stay conscious either."
Simon stood up properly and stepped towards him.
"Gene –" he hissed urgently but Gene cut him off.
"First three years here Drake used to spend half her life flat on the floor with some kind o' turn," he said firmly, "It happens."
"Gen, that was not normal," Simon hissed through gritted teeth as anxious eyes flickered to Robin, "He faded –"
A killer glare from Gene silenced Simon before he could continue. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his flask which he threw to Robin.
"Here," he said, "this'll wake you up."
Robin reluctantly re moved the cap and sniffed the liquid within. He drew back a little and pulled a face.
"I told you I don't like scotch," he said.
"Not giving you bloody brandy," Gene told him, "you faint like a girl, you need a man's drink to balance it out." He stared at Robin as he looked back incredulously. "It's that or I take off me boots and use me socks as smelling salts," Gene told him.
Reluctantly Robin decided the drink was the lesser of two evils and took a swig, pulling a face as he did so..
"It's not like I did it on purpose," he mumbled. In fact, he didn't even remember passing out. He hadn't felt weak or dizzy, he didn't remember it happening at all. One second he'd been addressing Gene with what they'd found about Layton and the next he woke wth a stinging cheek.
"Back to the topic of everyone's least favourite sewer rat," Gene began, preparing to sit down but to his surprise and fury Simon grasped his sleeve and gave him an angry and surprisingly forceful tug towards the door and out into CID. He immediately regretted the action when he saw the look on Gene's face as he slammed the door and hissed, "Was all that really a good idea, Shoebury?" grabbing Simon's sleeve to mimic his unwise action, albeit harder and more violently.
"Are you just going to ignore what happened in there?" Simon cried.
"Are you going to carry on broadcasting it around the station or are you going to drop yer voice?" Gene hissed.
Simon pulled his sleeve away from Gene.
"Robin faded out," he hissed, "He bloody disappeared."
"I am aware of what happened," Gene hissed back, "believe it or not I still have me marbles and me eyesight."
"Well?" Simon cried desperately, throwing his hands in the air.
"Well what?" Gene cried.
"Well what does it mean?" Simon demanded.
Gene stared at him.
"You know what it means, Simon," he said in slow, measured tones.
"It can't," Simon protested. He rubbed his forehead frantically, "you mean he's going to wake up? That he almost did?"
"Give that nerd a coconut," sighed Gene.
"No," Simon shook his head, "He's only been here a few days… he can't wake up."
"I don't think you've got much of a say in it, Shoebury," Gene said tightly.
"He's only just come here!" Simon hissed, "he can't go back."
"Why not? Because you don't want him to? Because I can tell you, this place does not recognise it as a valid reason."
"I've just got him back," Simon's tone was almost desperate by now.
"No, Simon, you haven't got him back," Gene reminded him, "or did you forget that?"
"Of course I didn't," hissed Simon, "I'm not stupid."
"You're not putting forward a strong case for Brain of the Year," Gene pointed out, "I asked you this morning if you could work together and like an idiot I believed the yes I got back for me troubles. "
"This has nothing to do with working together, I just want him to stay here, with me," Simon found himself spilling words without being able to rein them in. He immediately regretted it; this wasn't a conversation he should be having with anyone, least of all Gene who – with a lack of nearby filing cabinets – pushed him to the wall instead and hissed;
"What do you think I am? Bloody cupid? Because I'm telling you now Shoebury, instead of wings and arrows I've got cowboy boots and bags under me eyes from sleeping in the car. I know you've been hard done by, Simon. All's fair in love and war? Bollocks to that. Nothing's fair. If it was I wouldn't have to chase down the winner of the Worst Dealer of the Year award from the last ten years running to get Bolly back, would I? Try to get this through yer head, Simon - he's moved on and you haven't. No, that's not fair. Can you change it? No bloody idea. Should you try? Not if you've got a decent bone in your body."
Simon couldn't believe the lecture he was getting. With a shocked expression he cried,
"Gene!"
"You're one man on your own," Gene told him, "well, one man with a big bloody collection of nerd-o-rama. Have you forgotten what he's got to go back to? He's got a bloody kid on the way. That changes everything."
"Didn't change anything for you twenty years ago, did it?" Simon hissed with a horribly spiteful tone and the moment the words left his mouth he regretted it. Shit. That wasn't good. He'd overstepped the mark, he was sure of that. Shit, shit, shit. The dark and angry look on Gene's face made him gulp and shudder, terrified that this time meeting the filing cabinet could only lead to certain death. Death by office furniture. What a way to go. He stared anxiously as Gene fixed him with a glare, too worried to even ramble an apology, but to his surprise despite Gene's clear anger at his words he spoke in a calm and defined manner, his voice kept low and his hands well away from throwing Simon against anything that may or may not have included drawers.
"I already told you we needed to talk that through, but this isn't the time," his eyes bore into Simon and left a large, steaming pile of guilt where they ate away at him, "when DCI Alex Drake is safely back in Fenchurch East, as well as back in me bed, you can sling every piece of mud at me that you can find. But until then all I care about is reeling in Layton and bringing that posh cow back home, where she belongs." His eyes flicked to the office door for a moment. "Now we're going back in there. That man doesn't know what happened. He doesn't need to either. Maybe he's going to wake up a few minutes from now, or maybe there's a group of babbling docs running around his bedside, telling each other he's not ready to open his eyes yet and he'll be here for a year, bugging me with his bloody girly taste in spirits and shunning the kind offer of scotch. Maybe he won't even wake up at all. But this isn't the time to investigate his chances. Get back in there, tell me the rest of Layton's life story and we'll pick this up again when I can actually give a damn about introducing yer backside to me office furniture."
He pushed open the door and stepped back for Simon to pass. Eaten up with guilt about his words and his selfish need to keep Robin in the world he hung his head. What a mess. What a fucking mess. Slowly he passed Gene and walked back into the office where he took a seat, not even glancing at Robin although he could feel his eyes turning his way.
"Are you OK?" Robin's voice was genuinely anxious but Simon still couldn't bring himself to look.
"I'm fine," he said quietly.
"Ignore Shoebury's existential crisis," Gene told him, reclaiming the flask. He frowned and shook it a little, glaring at Robin as he discovered he'd drained the damn thing dry. "Bloody hell, if you're not a scotch drinker then I'd hate to see what you'd have done with the brandy bottle."
"Sorry," Robin half mumbled, already regretting drinking so much. He could feel things spinning around him but it was preferable to seeing those images playing through his head again and again. "What's going on?" he asked, not completely sure he wanted to know.
"Shoebury had a bit of a panic," Gene said simply, "going to send 'im on a first aid course so that next time someone passes out he can do something more effective than slapping 'em and flapping his arms around like a bloody homosexual airplane."
Simon narrowed his eyes at Gene but the only comeback he could think of was;
"Aeroplanes don't 'flap'."
Ignoring him completely, Gene wanted to get back to the matter in hand.
"Layton," He prompted.
Simon and Robin had already been halfway through telling him what they knew when Robin had blacked out across the floor. Gene didn't want to admit that Robin's strange turn and subsequent momentary disappearance from their version of reality had managed to get him more excited than he should have been, especially for Simon's sake. The fact was, Gene subscribed to the same theory as Robin; that he was there by mistake instead of Alex. Gene wanted to see Robin wake up. He wanted Batman to go back to the real world because that just might signify a swap was in place. If he went home, maybe Alex could pass in the other direction.
Robin tried to overcome both his nightmares and the scotch. He rubbed his forehead and tried to work out where they'd gotten up to.
"Layton…" he sighed, "yeah, the pattern. He's in this cycle; trying to take over other people's business, trying to get into their patch, passing himself off as part of the business when in fact he's just a big fat failure. It was getting onto someone else's patch that led to all the blackmail in the real world… Alex getting shot…"
Gene breathed out as his eyes scanned an open file.
"And this time he'd getting in ahead," he said.
Robin nodded.
"Nailer isn't arrested in the nineties back in the real world," he said, "so Layton never had a chance to try taking over. Here, he's seizing his opportunity."
"is there any news on Nailer?" Simon asked quietly, just feeling as though he should contribute something to the conversation, even though all he wanted to do was to leave the room and go for a very, very long walk to burn off some of his frustration and emotion.
"If by news you mean has anyone followed his trail of breadcrumbs and found him, then no," said Gene, "You'll be delighted to know Fenchurch West staked their claim to the case. Their argument went something like, the prison was about half an inch closer to them than to us. Must have been using 'little Jimbo' to measure that."
"So we're off the case before we're even on it?" cried Robin.
"Like I'm going to let Big or Little Jimbo tell me what to do," Gene mumbled, "I've sent the new blood out to dig up what they can. Mel B and Ronan Keating have gone to HMP Fenchurch to find out exactly what happened to Nailer overnight, while Dimwit One and Dimwit Two have gone to look at some CCTV footage of a possible sighting of Nailer in the area."
"I thought we were keeping them out of the case?" asked Simon.
"We're keeping them away from anything involving Arthur Layton," Gene corrected, "there's no proof yet that Nailer's breakout is connected to his unwanted business takeover."
"Yet," Robin echoed.
Gene nodded and looked at Simon.
"If I can trust you two not to rip each other to pieces," he glanced over at Robin, "or take another nap on me floor, I recommend one of you gets to the hospital to find out what you can about the tainted drugs and all the poor sods who went for the blue-lipped look when the shitty produce stuck a stick in their hearts.
"I'll do that," Simon said quietly as he stood up.
Gene looked at Robin.
"You need a lay down or you up for asking around on the streets?" he asked.
Robin got to his feet.
"I'm fine," he said
"You passed out," Simon pointed out.
"Do I look unconscious now?" Robin spread his palms, annoyed and embarrassed that the incident was still being mentioned.
"Good man," said Gene, "get a list of known dealing spots connected with the tainted stuff from uniform and find out what you can."
"What are you doing?" Simon asked,
Gene took a deep breath and looked away for a moment. He wasn't exactly sure himself. There was something he wanted to do… needed to do even, but he wasn't sure how he was going to manage it or even if he should. Finally he pulled his jaw into a straight line and said,
"One other thing Bols asked me to do for her."
"What? Simon frowned.
Gene still hated talking like this. He hated being the one on the other side of the message. It made him feel like a class A weirdo. But he couldn't ignore it.
"She asked me to do one more thing, he said, "Wanted me to find her video. Find out how she gets back." He shook his head. "I know if won't help me work out what we're supposed to do with Layton and his greasy-features here, but at least I'll know how – and if – she makes it back." He cleared his throat. "Which she will," he said, trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.
"How the hell do you expect to get your hands on that?" Simon cried.
"Can't be that difficult," said Gene, "number of times that bespectacled Wham! obsessive slipped in here to leave you surprises on yer desk, about time I evened up the score and paid an unwelcome visit to the place."
"It's not that easy, Gene," Simon sighed, "the videos are all in the basement. The door's kept locked."
"Then I'll find a way to unlock it with that fire axe we keep down the hall for emergencies," said Gene.
"You can't be serious about this," Simon had a look of panic on his face, "Gene… going into Fenchurch West…. It's stupid and it's dangerous, there's no way of knowing what Keats will do if he catches you snooping around."
"Then the fire axe will be useful for two reasons," Gene told him.
"Don't be ridiculous," Simon snapped, "you haven't thought this out at all, have you?"
"I've thought of little else," Gene said angrily. He stared at Simon, a deadly serious expression on his face. "It's for Alex. It's worth the risk"
Simon stared back at him. He had never seen Gene looking so determined about anything. He remembered when he shoe was on the other foot and Gene was trying to stop him from venturing into Fenchurch West. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He had a feeling he was going to live to regret this – but at the same time he couldn't deny Gene the chance to find any way possible to bring Alex home. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a circle of keys. He flicked through them, past keys to his office and fling cabinets as well as spare keys to his flat, then located one last key. He prised it from the keyring and handed it over.
"Here," he said quietly.
Gene stared at it.
"What's that for?" he asked suspiciously.
"I took it the last time I was there," Simon said quietly, "when I…" he flinched and hesitated, "when I worked for Keats. When I went to the basement. I kept the key." He held it out and saw Gene hesitating. "Go on, before I change my mind."
With a look of surprise mixed with gratitude Gene reached out and took the key from Simon.
"I appreciate this," he said quietly, "Truly. Thanks, Shoebury."
"Just… be careful," Simon whispered knowing only too well the risks Gene was taking, "be more than fucking careful."
Gene nodded as he pocketed the key.
"I will," he said firmly, "cross me heart."
All of a sudden things were moving on apace. The world was turning so fast that it almost knocked them from their feet.
~xXx~
2012
"Kim," Alex huffed and puffed to keep up as Kim flew down the corridor in a way that stuck two fingers up at her cracked ribs, "Kim, slow down –"
Kim barely heard.
"They said there's been a change," was all she could say.
"You're going to make yourself ill," Alex told her sternly, "your ribs –"
"My ribs want to know what's happened too," Kim told her, blocking out the throbbing as they protested at her pace.
Robin's shirt sleeves flapped over her hands. she'd been in such a hurry to dress and to head to the hospital that she hadn't thought to roll them up yet. All she could think about was getting to Robin's room. It was bad enough that she'd had to get a taxi because neither she nor Alex were able to drive yet.
"Kim, two more minutes isn't going to change the outcome," Alex clutched her side as stitch ran through her body and her bump ached from the rushing around. Strong kicks showed their disapproval for her fast pace and wouldn't be calmed with the rubbing of her hand.
Finally they reached ICU and a doctor was already waiting to speak to Kim.
"Kim Stringer?" he asked.
"Yes," Kim said a little breathlessly. She held a hand across her chest, feeling her heart racing as she tried to catch her breath.
"I'm doctor Masters," the doctor told her, "I was on duty this evening when the incident happened."
Kim froze.
"What kind of incident?" she whispered.
"Look, can we go t the relative's room and we'll talk about this in private," the doctor said. He began to heard Kim through a doorway but as Alex made to follow he stopped her. "Sorry, I need to speak with the next of kin."
"She's coming," Kim said without thinking.
"It should be family only; we're making enough of an exception for you."
"She is kind of family," Kim said honestly. Looking back on her own family life and that of both Alex and Robin she began to see that all three of them had grown up with little family support for different reasons. Their shared experiences had forged a weird kind of family in itself. The roles flipped and swapped often - Kim often felt like she and Robin were the rowdy kids, while other times she felt very motherly to Alex in her own right, but either way there was no denying it.
The doctor stared at Kim.
"You're the one who inserted three items of stationery into the same porter because he ran over your toe, aren't you?" he asked.
"Yes," said Kim.
The doctor hesitated.
"In that case," he said, "she's welcome to come too."
He led them both through to the relative's room and waited for them to take a seat. Kim tried desperately to read his expression. They wouldn't give her any definite answers on the phone – was it good news or bad? What was going on? Finally she couldn't stand the wait any longer and said,
"Please, just tell me, has something happened? Is he still alive?"
The doctor nodded.
"Yes, he is," he began, "but we're not entirely sure what's happening with his condition at the moment."
"I don't understand," Kim frowned, trying to work out what he meant.
"Robin had a sudden burst of brain activity," the doctor explained, "it seemed he was starting to regain consciousness. A nurse reported seeing his eyes open and there was some movement that couldn't be classed as a reflex response." He gave a slight sigh as his expression changed. "However –"
In the space of seconds Kim's emotions changed from anxiety to hope to a terrible sense of dread. That one word – 'however' – held far too much power.
"What?" she whispered, feeling as though she was about to vomit at any moment.
"He went into a sudden cardiac arrest," the doctor explained, "and luckily we were able to revive him, but it's impossible for us to be able to guarantee where things will progress from here."
"What the hell caused the heart attack?" Kim whispered, every inch of her body shaking.
"We had been reducing the dose of certain medications to see if it would help him to regain consciousness," the doctor explained, "it's possible it was too much, too soon and his body was unable to cope. We'll be slowing down the process to avoid a reoccurrence of this."
"That's what happened to me," Alex whispered.
Kim glanced at her.
"What?" she whispered, still trembling.
"When they tried to bring me round… my original coma," Alex felt a little awkward about the 'two comas' label and tried to gloss over that part, "they changed the dose too quickly."
Kim narrowed her eyes at the doctor.
"can't you lot learn from your mistakes?" she accused.
"Every patient is different," the doctor explained patiently, "their metabolism, their previous health, their BMI, everything makes a difference when it comes to how they react to medication and treatment. Please be assured that we're monitoring him carefully, and take heart that despite the way things occurred there are some very positive things to be taken from this."
"Like?"
"Like the fact that your boyfriend –"
"That's fiancé." Kim said quickly.
"- did regain consciousness, if only for a short time. That's the first hurdle – the worry had been that he may not be able to. If there had been severe brain damage he may never have even got that far. Now we know he can we just need to have patience and wait for him to be ready."
Kim closed her eyes for a moment as her heart started to speed up.
"Wait," she whispered, "are you telling me that he's going to wake up?"
"It's looking like a strong possibility now," the doctor told her.
Kim drew in her breath and let it out slowly, trying desperately not to let her excitement grow too strong. They were only words. There were no guarantees. But this was so much more than she'd had just hours before. She didn't dare hope or wish too hard, there was such a long way to go, but she allowed herself one tiny smile and a blissful moment to picture what it would be like to see his eyes opening and to see him smile again.
"He'll wake up," she whispered, "he's got to. He doesn't do things by halves. He'll have to finish what he's started now."
She could almost feel him getting closer now. However long things took he was going to make it back. She wasn't going to give him a choice.
"Doctor," Alex began quietly, "I was a patient here myself, I spent some time in a coma following a –" but her words were cut off by the doctor's pager and a kerfuffle in the corridor at the same moment. The doctor looked form his pager to the commotion and realised that he was needed.
"Excuse me," he said quickly, "I'm sorry, I have to attend to an emergency but you're quite welcome to go and spend some time with Robin now you're here."
He got to his feet and left the relative's room, with Alex and Kim exchanging a curious glance between themselves.
"I'd like to spend some time finding out what all the fuss is about out there," a nosy Alex admitted as she stood up.
Despite wanting to head straight to Robin's bedside Kim's own curiosity was getting the better of her and she followed Alex to the doorway.
"Ma'am, we'll probably only see a –" she began but her speech was cut off by a trolley whizzing by, surrounded by a mix of doctors, nurses and paramedics. There were people administering injections on the go, others keeping the patient breathing and some talking urgently about the condition of the man whose skin was deathly pale and whose life had all but gone.
"…call came in from HMP Fenchurch twenty minutes ago," they heard one of them saying, "fifty-three year old male, suspected overdose. Name, Arthur Layton."
Worlds stopped turning in that instant.
Worlds stopped turning, Alex almost stopped breathing and everything stopped making sense.
She turned to Kim with wide eyes, scarcely believing what she'd heard.
"He just… did he say…?" she whispered, trying to make sense of the last few moments.
Kim found herself chewing nervously on her lip.
"Arthur Layton," she whispered.
It felt like forever and a day passed as they stood and stared at one another. Words didn't have the power to express the strangeness of the moment; the coincidence, the link with all the information Alex had placed upon her flipchart, Kim's nightmare...It was too much, simply too much to handle. Finally the both gave up trying to speak. There was nothing that one could say which the other wasn't thinking already. Two sets of legs started to move at the same moment, following fast after the medical team who had wheeled one messed up man away down the corridor just moments before.
Things were happening. Dimensions were shifting. Worlds were pulling together.
Home was calling.
~xXx~
#...Don't look no more,
Coz it'll only make your eyes sore
Count your R.E.M's,
It's comforting the sanctuary there we have
(ooo oo, we argue sometimes and we fear we put the knife in too deep
but even when madness heads, it's only gladness I keep inside inside)
So give me a sign
Coz we are Indestructible
Yes we are
And you are my life-line
And we are Indestructible
Yes we are
Hey, hey, you can be wicked
And you know I can be fickle sometimes too, y'know
Maybe you're my better side
Or maybe you annoy me to the point of where I'm holding this
gun against your head, but I never said we have the same free spirit,
tell me will you cry? Don't cry
So give me a sign
Coz we are Indestructible
Yeah we are
And you are my life-line
And we are Indestructible
Yes we are
You take me as I am, mister
I've a little red devil on my shoe
You always stay real strong
You can take the rough with the smooth
And I know that we forget what we mean to say
Too proud sometimes
Guess we're only human
Coz we are Indestructible
Yeah we are
And you are my life-line
We are Indestructible
Yes we are
So give me a sign…#
Indestructible – Alisha's Attic
~xXx~
A/N – Bizarrely this was my favourite chapter so far to write, I don't know why I just got so into it I kind of lost myself in it… and all one handed typing :D I hope you'll stick with the story as it approaches its climax and I hope that you're enjoying it as much as I'm still enjoying writing it.
Don't forget to go and vote in my poll! x