He hated hospitals. Nothing good ever came out of places that held white walls and dying people. He remembered when his parents had been here after their accident. He sat in a small plastic chair that smelled like latex for hours, waiting to hear any news about them. But when some came, he never wished he could be waiting in the chair again, with some hope. He remembered the faces of the doctors and nurses that came out to check on him, and eventually tell him that he was now orphaned.
But no matter his predisposition for the location, he sat in silence on a small plastic chair awaiting news. Ram rod straight his eyes remained focused ahead unchanging and unemotional while his focus was internal in nature.
"You're a good man… Stay one." It replayed over and over again in his head.
She didn't know him, she couldn't have known the things he's done, or else she would have kept her mouth closed. But by a simple look she said six words that he couldn't drag himself away from.
"…A good man," he mumbled to himself. No one had ever called him a good man. M had implied it on occasion, saying that he was only still on the right side of the game because of his character. He always brushed it off, knowing the stains that his soul had kept him barely human, let alone a human with character.
"Sir," a voice carried over and snapped Bond out of his thoughts as he rose to his feet.
"Doctor," he replied pensively, attempting to read the man's face for information. "Is she going to be alright?"
The older man sighed, and silently indicated for the agent to take a seat, while he himself took the one next to his.
"She sustained major injuries to her chest and spine. There was a large hematoma in her brain, and we have to wait and see how damaged the swollen areas are after the swelling has gone down. She's not out of the woods yet, we'll need to keep her here a while for observation, but she is estimated to wake up in a week or so." There was moment of silence as the younger man processed all the information given so rapidly. He knew the extent of her injuries was severe, but he was hoping to get information out of her before then. She was useless to his case now. He sighed and put his head in his hands, rubbing them over his haggard face before looking back up and offering a small smile and nod to the doctor.
"I must go, other patience to attend to. Ask a nurse if you have any questions." Bond nodded absently as the practitioner left. Pulling out his phone, he quickly dialed and put the device up to his ear.
"M, she won't be of any use for a while. How's it going with the others?" he rose to leave, heading towards the door when a nurse stopped him gently. "M, hold on a minute," he said rather annoyed, "Yes?"
The portly dark skinned woman looked abashedly at him, and tumbled over her words. "Do… Do you know who… uh… who her next of ki… kin is?" she turned a rather bright shade of pink after she finally finished, and Bond simply shook his head and she scrambled away.
"Anyway, the others, are they talking?" but even as M replied yes, and began to fill him in, Bond paused before he exited the door. He felt a tug at his gut and he knew it as the long lost feeling of guilt. What did he have to be guilty for? He was doing his damn job, she was lucky to be alive! But he knew that wouldn't work, not tonight anyway.
He found himself sighing again, and shaking his head, he turned around letting the door fall shut. As this internal debate was going on, M continued to tell him of the leads she had been getting together.
"We need you here as soon as possible Bond. Have you reached your car?" she asked in a clipped tone.
"No. Can you look up this woman's papers if I get you a finger print?" his tone matched hers, and there was silence for a beat. When she responded, her voice held a gentle note.
"Yes. Now be quick about it. We don't have all day 007," the call ended and Bond smiled.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
"Olivia Grayson is the name," M didn't even look up from the folder on her desk when he entered. "Her family located, though they've moved to the Americas for some god forsaken reason. We have yet to inform them pending the circumstances. Satisfied?" she finally turned her eyes to her subordinate. He casually poured himself a drink, but M knew better. She could see the rigidity in his posture and mechanical movements. He was worried. The older woman smiled gently; maybe this is exactly what he needed: a little bird to nurse back to health.
"How long had she been in the ring?"
"Missing for eight months, they had her funeral two weeks ago Sunday," she sat herself in her leather chair and took the drink he offered, but put it off to the side absentmindedly. She watched as he took a seat himself and nodded slowly. Taking a tentative sip, M's eyes never left his form. The silence was prolonged, and thankfully broken by Q's sudden appearance.
"Ma'am, we have the information you wanted…" he took a pause as he noticed the awkward air the two had going. M dismissed it with a wave and stuck her hand out purposefully. Placing the folder in her hands, she began to debrief her agent like nothing had happened.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
Bond was gone and back in eight days. He always had a track record for doing things fast. When he arrived back at headquarters, his phone had just vibrated, and he took it out answering smoothly.
"Bond," he hadn't bothered checking the caller id, very few people had his number after all. So he was rather surprised when it was a voice he didn't recognize.
"Mr. Bond? I'm Elaina from the hospital, you asked we keep you informed of Olivia Grayson's progress yes?" her voice was hesitant, curious and hoping. She sounded as if she wanted him to want to know. He was being paranoid he knew, but he had every right to be. He was a spy after all, and no one became a spy by being absent minded, a still living spy that is.
"Yes, I inquired of her health, why?" he realized his voice had dipped below his normal range, and found it to be for the oddest of reasons. His mind began to fly through scenarios. Had she been tracked down? Did someone hurt her? Did she not survive the surgeries they had her going through? Was she dead?
"She's awake sir, responsive to treatment, and wondering why she is unable to contact family sir. I told her you would most likely know why. Could you find time to speak with her?" so that's why the nurse wanted him to want to see her. Her voice had a bite in it, like he was the reason Olivia could not contact family. He felt himself rather annoyed with her; an emotion much more common as of late.
"Yes, tell her I have some things to take care of, but that I will be with her shortly," before the audacious woman could respond, he shut his phone with a snap.
They will meet next chapter promise! And she won't have a knife in her. Less of damper on the conversation I'd guess. R'nR!
Again, so much inspiration from the great series by hybridbpv; Check out what amazing stuff is happening over there too!