simple twist of fate
by red-starshine
part three: hand in hand
Chas's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? I was at the Crossroads for about five minutes! How has it been five days?"
"Yes, well, time's funny at the Crossroads," said John with a tight shrug. "It doesn't move in sync with here." He paused for a moment before looking pointedly at Chas. "And, again, making preparations to bring one burned and flattened corpse back to life isn't exactly the quickest thing in the world to accomplish."
Chas felt his headache return as he tore up the death certificate and x-ray and shoved them down into the bin of used body bags. "So everything's all fucked up now? Great."
"It's not irreparably fucked up," protested John. "It just...complicates matters slightly."
"Everybody thinks I'm dead," said Chas flatly.
"Yeah, well, the state of your body and your total lack of heartbeat over the past five days tends to give that impression," John pointed out. He grasped the handle to the morgue's door and yanked it open, slipping into the hall and out of the morgue.
"Hang on." John abruptly stopped in the hallway, and then turned towards a door leading to the stairwell. Chas followed closely behind him. John went up one flight of stairs, emerging in front of the doors leading to the ICU. John took Chas's arm before pressing the switch to open the doors. There were only two nurses at the station near the doors, and neither of them looked up as John and Chas walked past them.
"John?" Chas said. "What's going on?"
John stopped in front of a woman sitting next to a closed hospital room door, her curly dark red hair hanging in front of her face, and her arms crossed across a tight black tank. She looked like she was sleeping.
"John?" Chas repeated, not wanting to wake her.
The woman's head jerked up, her eyes wide, and Chas realized he knew her. She was Tess, the woman who'd been tending bar the night of the fire. He'd only met her a handful of times during her shifts, but she'd seemed nice.
"You...I know you," Tess said in confusion, standing up. "Chas, is that you?"
"Hey Tess," he said. "What're you doing here?"
"Oh my God, it's so good to see you," she said, placing her hands on Chas's arm. Her skin felt clammy and cold, and Chas had to suppress a shiver. "I just got here. Nobody'll tell me anything."
"Tess, was it?" said John, and Tess's head swiveled towards him, her eyes wide. "Tell me Tess, who's in there?" John jerked his head towards the closed door.
Tess placed a hand to her forehead and gave John an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I just got here. Nobody'll tell me anything."
Chas felt something sink in his stomach. "Are you feeling okay, Tess?"
She looked at him, perplexed. "Fine."
"Tess, luv, do you know why anyone won't talk to you?" asked John.
Tess shrugged. "I just got here."
"Tess, you already said that," said Chas, his confusion growing. He turned to John, who looked back at him grimly. "You know something. What's wrong with her?"
John shook his head slightly, his eyes downcast. "Look inside the room and this'll make a lot more sense, mate."
Chas glanced at the placard on the closed door, but it only said 'HOPKINS'. His hands sweaty, he slowly opened the door to the hospital room. His heart sank as he saw the occupant of the hospital bed, confirming his fears.
Tess's body was lying on the bed covered in bandages, her hair gone and angry red burns covering her exposed skin. A ventilation tube was taped over her mouth, and the ventilator nosily rumbled next to her bed in a pale imitation of breathing, a heart monitor beeping sporadically next to it. An IV drip was on the other side of her bed.
"John," called Chas warily, keeping his eyes on Tess's body.
John sighed. "Come with me, Tess." Taking her arm, he led Tess into the room, standing her in front of the bed. "Do you know who that is?" he asked her.
Tess looked at her withered body in the hospital bed for a moment and then stared at John. "I just got here. Nobody'll tell me anything," she repeated slowly, her eyes wide. This time it sounded almost pleading.
"Tess. That's you on the bed," said John. "Your body."
"There was a fire five days ago at the bar," said Chas as kindly he could, standing on her other side. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "It killed a lot of people."
Tess shook her head vehemently and wrenched herself away from John and Chas, backing away from the bed. "No. No. Nobody'll tell me anything."
"Listen to me, luv. You're dying," John said firmly. "You've managed to hold on for a few more days than most, but you're still dying."
Tess started to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Nobody'll tell me anything," she protested through the sobs, her shoulders hitching up and down.
John pointed back towards the withered figure in the bed. "Because that ventilator's the only thing keeping your body alive, and not for very much longer," he said. "I'm sorry, Tess."
She turned away from John, burying her face against Chas's sweater as her breath hitched.
"Nobody'll tell me anything," she sobbed. Chas wrapped his arms around her in a hug, rubbing her back, and she cried harder, trembling in his arms.
John sighed and made his way to the side of Tess's hospital bed.
The sporadic beeps from the heart monitor turned into a shrill high-pitched flatline as her body's heart stopped, and Tess's spirit let out a blood-curdling screech of pain, her legs giving out from under her. Chas caught her before she could fall to the floor. Her head rolled back and she screamed again.
"John?" he called worriedly over her moans. "What's wrong with her?"
"She's dying, mate," said John.
The blistering red burns from her body appeared across Tess's face and then smoothed over again to unblemished skin as she scrunched her eyes closed. "Hurts," she said tightly.
"It's time," said John dejectedly. "Say good-bye, Tess." He leaned over the bed and lightly pressed his hand against her body's burned forehead.
Tess vanished from Chas's arms with a sigh, dissipating like smoke.
John stood up from Tess's bed and grasped Chas's arm, yanking him into a darkened corner of the room just as two doctors rushed into Tess's room followed by a nurse rolling a crash cart. They didn't pay any attention to the two men standing behind them silently watching them try to force life back into Tess's corpse.
John sighed and pulled Chas out of the room when the younger doctor started chest compressions on Tess's body while the other prepared a syringe of clear liquid.
"She's gone," said John once they were out in the hall. "Poor bird. Lingering deaths are always rough."
"What was that, her ghost?"
John leaned against the wall and let out a long breath, reaching into his pocket to pull out his lighter, flicking the top open and shut. "Yeah, kind of. That was part of what made her Tess, her soul." He looked back towards the room as another nurse sprinted down the hall and into Tess's room. "When the body's dying like that, it's not unusual for the soul to, ah, detatch from it before it actaully dies."
"Why did she keep saying the same thing over and over like that?"
John motioned him down the hall, heading past the empty nurse's station and towards the doors leading out of the ICU and into the deserted hallway near a bank of elevators. "Ghosts have a nasty habit of getting fixated on one thing or another." He flicked his lighter open and shut again. "Think of them like a vinyl record with a scratch across the grooves. It'll play fine for the most part but once the needle hits that scratch, it'll just keep repeating the same thing over and over."
"I was't like that," said Chas.
"No, you weren't," said John. "Interesting, innit?"
Chas followed him, blinking his eyes against the bright glare of lights in the empty hallway. "And what was that about back at the Crossroads?"
"What was what?" said John innocently, a grin on his face.
"You know what. That kiss," said Chas. He nervously brushed his hair back from his face. Just thinking about it made him blush like a teenager.
"Oh, that," said John offhandedly, stopping in front of the door to the stairwell next to the row of elevators. "You've never heard of the kiss of death?" He reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat and pulled out a large ring of antique keys.
"Do you kiss everybody like that when you're on the clock?" said Chas.
John smirked, glancing at him. "Nah, just the ones I really like." Selecting a key, he stuck it into the door's lock and twisted.
Chas blinked. "What?"
John slipped through the door with an amused laugh.
Chas threw the door open. "Seriously, you don't say that and just walk awa-"
He stopped. Instead of the stairwell, the door lead to a large dimly-lit room, covered in cobwebs. Chas could see a dusty Persian rug on the floor and shelves of old books. John pulled off his trenchcoat and threw it over a chair.
Chas stared around the room, his mouth hanging open.
John turned around. "You comin' or not?"
Chas stepped into the room and let the door close behind him.