~ Chapter Two ~
"…you stupid bugger…"
What?
The familiar voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.
"…what did you have to go and do that for…?"
Isaac frowned.
No.
It couldn't be…
"C-Cam?"
A chuckle, painfully familiar, had his eyes snapping open heedless of the bright lights surrounding him.
It was Cam, his brother; his dead brother.
He was sat beside him, dressed as he had been the last time Isaac had seen him before he'd been.
"You're dead."
Camden nodded.
"I am," he confirmed, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair. "Which is why I'm so incredibly pissed off to see you here, little brother."
Oh.
Wait…
"Am I dead?"
"Not quite," Camden muttered, gesturing for Isaac to look across the room they were in. "But if you don't get a move on you soon will be."
It was a waiting room, the kind they have at clinics and hospitals, only everything was white which explained why the room was so bright.
Every single chair was occupied.
What Cam had drawn his attention to, however, was the faceless figure dressed in a Victorian nurses uniform.
The figure both frightened and calmed him, something about the aura they projected making him feel safe and content.
"I don't understand…"
"Watch."
Obediently he watched the faceless figure approach a young woman who was dressed in a hospital gown, holding out a clipboard and fountain pen.
"Once you sign that's it," Cam explained as the young woman did just that, signing her name with a flourish of her hand. "You've heard of signing your life away? They take that very literally here. See?"
Clipboard returned the faceless figure helped the young woman to her feet and led her over to a set of hospital doors.
A blinding light forced him to look away as the doors were opened and once it had faded both the young woman and the faceless figure were gone.
"…where did she go?"
"Heaven," Cam answered simply. "Or Hell. Whichever they think she deserved."
"…they?"
"Yup. The ever present but never identified They."
Another brief flash of blinding light and the faceless figure had returned. This time the figure headed towards an elderly man dressed in a scruffy set of clothes, stained with dirt, and gardening gloves.
"Isaac, you need to go back."
"Back?"
Camden nodded towards something over Isaacs shoulder, prompting him to turn in his own uncomfortable seat to see what it was.
A door.
Not just any door; the door which haunted his dreams.
The basement door in the kitchen of his house behind which lay the broken freezer…
No.
"I don't want to go back there," Isaac protested sharply, spinning back to face his brother. His hands flew up to clutch at the camouflage fabric of his jacket. "I want to stay here with you."
"You can't stay here with me, Izzy, because I don't belong here either," Cam sighed sadly, reaching up to cup Isaac's cheek. His hand felt strange, almost like it was made of static electricity. "I'm not meant to be here at all but I had to see you, to stop you from giving up. You've got so much of your life left to live, Isaac."
"…but I don't…I can't…"
"I know it doesn't seem like it right now but it gets better," Camden vowed. "You can get away from him, Isaac. You can defeat him. You just have to survive. Survive and be happy. Then he'll never win."
Another flash of blinding light and the old man and the faceless figure were gone.
"Cam…"
"Isaac, please, go back while you still can," Camden implored him, his eyes locking with Isaacs. "I didn't have this, have a choice; I was too far gone. Isaac…"
A blinding flash signalled the return of the faceless figure who, as though they knew what Camden was trying to do, began to move towards where Isaac was sat.
"Cam, I'm frightened…"
"I know, Izzy…" Cam murmured soothingly, bringing his other hand up to cup Isaac's other cheek. "But you need to go back. For me. Please, Izzy, go back…"
Tears flooded down both of their faces.
"I miss you, Cam…"
"I'm always with you, Izzy…" Camden vowed. "Always."
The faceless figure stopped in front of Isaac, holding the clipboard and fountain pen out to him.
On the clipboard was a contract.
'Agreement to termination of life on the mortal plain' was written in a bold cursive print at the top of the single sheet of paper, the words causing him to whimper. 'I, the bellow signed, agree to the termination of my life…'
There was more, a lot more, legal mumbo-jumbo that Isaac barely understood but the overall meaning was clear.
If he signed the contract he was dead.
He took hold of the pen.
"No, Isaac, please…"
He hesitated, pen hovering above the extended clipboard as he glanced towards his brother.
"Live, Isaac," Cam pleaded with him, tears flooding down his tanned cheeks. "Please…"
His hand began to shake…
No.
No.
He didn't want to die.
Dropping the pen he launched himself up out of his seat, dislodging his brother's hands in his haste to take off towards the familiar door.
The last thing he heart as he pushed it open, blackness rushing out to meet him, was his brother's joyous laughter…
"…Cam!"
The time when he opened his eyes he found himself inside a modern hospital room, machines beeping around him. It was grey, dimly lit and empty.
He choked on a bitter sob.
The dream was fading fast; a clipboard, a young woman, a fountain pen, a person without a face…and Cam.
His brother.
He'd been dreaming about his brother who had been killed by an IED in Iraq nearly five years ago.
Grief stricken sobs burst from his chest only to morph into gasps of pain as the tears falling down his cheeks seemed to burn through his skin.
What was wrong with him?
His left arm was in a cast but his right arm…why was it covered in bandages?
Wait.
Water.
He remembered water and a falling electrical cable…
And Allison.
Allison Argent, one of the nicest, prettiest girls at school who probably didn't know he existed.
He'd…pushed her?
A little grey handset lay by his left hand, one end connected by a cable to the wall, the other dominated by a large red button.
Carefully, only moving his fingers and thumb, he picked up the handset and pressed his thumb down on the red button.
Nothing happened for a long moment.
No alarms went off.
But then just as he released the button the door was flung open to admit a flustered looking woman in green nurses scrubs, her dark curls escaping the bun on the top of her head as she stumbled to a halt at the foot of his bed.
"You're awake," she breathed, obviously surprised. "That's…that's wonderful…"
Why?
How long had he been asleep?
He opened his mouth, intending to ask that very question, but all that came out was a croak.
"Hold on a minute, sweetheart," the nurse murmured, turning to head back out the door. "Let me get you some ice chips to suck on, help sooth that sore throat of yours."
Oh…
Yes…
Now that she'd mentioned it something to sooth his throat would be a greatly appreciated.
She was back in no time at all, pulling a stool up to the side of his bed so that she could sit and carefully feed him pieces of ice.
"My name is Nurse McCall," she told him before smiling ruefully and shaking her head. "Actually it's Melissa, my name that is, but around here I'm mostly known as Nurse McCall. Do you…do you know where you are?"
"…hospital…"
Obviously.
Where else would you find all the equipment currently attached to him?
Not to mention find a nurse attending to his every need…
"Yes, but which hospital?"
Huh.
That was a little trickier for some unknown reason but eventually he was able to answer,
"Beacon Hills."
She nodded, smiling happily.
"That's right," she murmured. "Now do you remember how you came to be here?"
It was his turn nod, albeit weakly.
Huh.
His face didn't hurt any more…
Instead it felt…numb…
"…water…cable…Allison…"
"Yes, you pushed her out of the way," the nurse agreed, filling in the blanks for him. "Saved her life, you little hero."
"…m'not a hero…"
"Let's agree to disagree for now," Nurse McCall countered cheerfully. "Unfortunately you didn't move fast enough to save yourself. I'll fetch your doctor in a moment and he can talk you through your injuries but luckily they got the power turned off before it…"
"…killed me," he finished for her. "…if I was hurt why can't I feel it? I…I'm not in pain…"
"Drugs," she answered simply. "Plus some of the burns were deep enough to damage your nerves."
"Oh."
That sounded bad.
"Dr Geyer will be able to explain everything for you," she reassured him, slipping another ice chip into his mouth. "So, what's your name? You didn't have any ID on you when you came in so I'm afraid we've been calling you John Doe for the last couple of weeks…"
Weeks?
He'd been…
It had been…
Weeks?
"…Isaac…" he eventually mumbled. "…m'name is Isaac…"
"Hello Isaac," she murmured politely, her voice having an unusual calming effect. "Is there a last name to go with that?"
"…Lahey…"
Nurse McCall smiled.
"Isaac Lahey," she repeated, taking the chart which hung from the end of his bed. Retrieving a pen from the pocket of her scrubs, the blunt end bearing distinct teeth impressions, she crossed out the words printed on the chart and wrote in his name. "There. That's better."
Shortly thereafter, once all of the ice chips had been used to sooth the dryness in his throat, Nurse McCall disappeared for fifteen minutes to fetch Dr Geyer, the doctor who had been treating him. Isaac spent those fifteen minutes worrying about what he was about to hear.
"Hello, Isaac," the handsome man who followed Nurse McCall into the room greeted him warmly, his teeth gleaming brightly. "I'm Dr Geyer. I've been overseeing your treatment."
Isaac responded with a small nod, paired with a nervous smile.
"Now I'm sure you're anxious to know the extent of your injuries," the doctor continued, his hands moving to hover over the bandages covering Isaac's right arm. "Isaac, you received moderate to severe electrical burns to almost 40% of your body including your face, neck, torso, right arm, right leg and your feet. The most severe burns were to your feet."
It felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.
That…
That sounded bad…
"We've done our best to care for your various injuries although I'm afraid that there will be several more operations in your future, mostly skin grafts," Dr Greyer explained, moving down to the foot of Isaac's bed. "Currently your feet are our main concern due to the extensive amount of sub-dermal tissue damage they received, particularly to your ankles."
"Will I…" Isaac hesitated, his voice choking up. "…will I be able to…"
"Walk? Yes, Isaac, you will," Dr Greyer confirmed without hesitation. "There was talk of possibly having to amputate had they not healed as well as they have. We did have to cut away another couple of layers of decaying flesh but that will heal. As it stands you will require a significant amount of physical therapy following the skin graft operations but, so long as nothing goes drastically wrong, we won't be considering amputation any time soon."
Decaying flesh…
Amputation.
He might have…
He might have woken up without his feet…
"Oh…"
His stomach clenched.
"I…I think I'm going to be sick…"
A disposable bowl was thrust in front of his face just in time to catch the bitter tasting bile he expelled, his stomach clenching painfully until finally it began to calm, allowing him to recline back against his pillows.
Only then did he notice the pain in his side…
"Ow…"
A quick check confirmed that he'd pulled one of the healing burn, blood welling up around the fresh wound. Nurse McCall needed no prompting to begin treating it, cleaning it with a sterilising wipe which burned almost as much as the injury itself did before redressing it.
"I'll get you something for the pain."
"We put you in a medically induced coma for a week following the accident," Dr Greyer continued with his explanation, moving aside when Nurse McCall returned so that she could inject something into the port of Isaac's IV. "Now, on a separate note we also discovered an older injury which, as you can see by the cast on your left arm, we have also treated. You suffered a distal radius fracture, a broken wrist to use laymen's terms, most probably from a fall but I was hoping you could explain to us how you came about the injury."
Isaac froze, staring at the bowl of fowl smelling liquid as Nurse McCall removed it.
"Isaac?"
"…I fell."
It was the truth, or rather half the truth.
He did fall.
He just had some help in doing so…
"How? Where?"
"I…tripped…" he mumbled, glancing away from the doctor's face. "Down the stairs."
He missed the look shared between the two medical professionals.
"Ok, Isaac," Dr Greyer murmured. "I'd like you to get some more if you can. Nurse McCall will be checking up on you and if you need anything just ring for her like you did earlier."
Isaac nodded, silently showing his agreement.
He was tired…
It was a lot to take in…
His injuries…
The dream…
Cam…
"I wish you were still here, big brother…" he mumbled, mercifully once he had been left alone. His eyes stung with tears of longing and grief. "I could use a Camden hug right now…"
Closing his eyes, allowing his tears to fall, he allowed himself to drift off to memories of his beloved older brother holding him close, rocking him back and forth and singing in his ear.
Unknown to him the two medical professionals had paused just outside his room, standing in silence for a long moment before sharing another look.
His answer, vague as it had been, had reignited their earlier suspicions of abuse.
"Melissa," Dr Geyer sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. "Update the Sheriff, would you?"
She nodded, worrying her own lip with her teeth.
Lahey…
Why was that name so familiar?
A/N Sorry this took so long – had a nasty case of writers block with this chapter and had to completely change my approach to it in order to get it to work. Hopefully the next chapter won't be quite so difficult. Also please excuse the numerous medical inaccuracies I'm sure are in this chapter (and will no doubt be in future chapters) – I'm not a medical professional and a 'First Aid At Work' qualification and access to Google/Wikipedia can only do so much. LOL. Comments & Suggestions welcome. X