Chapter 61

Mad World

Author's Note: Happy New Year everyone! I hope 2023 is a great year for all of us. For me, it's the year I finally retire – and just maybe can spend more time writing! Would love to know how you think the story is progressing. There are some interesting developments coming…

Intro Song: Shelter Me, Tab Benoit

"Mick, you awake?" Guillermo Gasol shut the freezer room door quietly behind him and walked over to the bench where his friend lay stretched out, an almost empty bag of blood at his side. At Mick's insistence, he had asked Dr. Spector if he could discontinue the IV since he was now taking blood by mouth. His friend wasn't going to be happy with the response...

Spector had frowned and shaken his head. He gave orders to the morgue assistant that the IV to be discontinued only if Mick were able to drink at least three full quarts of blood a day – a large increase over his original estimate and a lot more than normal intake. He felt the adjustment was necessitated by the excruciatingly slow rate of healing the injured vampire was displaying. The physician hoped that upping the amount of blood would speed that process, but he had been honest with all of Mick's friends that this was a shot in the dark.

"I don't know if this will help speed up his healing or not – or whether it will impact how quickly the silver flushes from his system. Those things are interconnected, I'm sure of that. What I'm not sure of is how to deal with it. I just want you all to know that I can't predict his course of recovery." Spector had shaken his head as he looked from Josef Kostan to Beth Turner to Guillermo Gasol, the friends he had assembled to discuss Mick's recovery. I need them to understand that there are no guarantees…for my sake.

"Three quarts a day is a lot. You think he needs that much?" Guillermo had taken the chance to speak up when Josef did not. Acquiring that much blood wasn't the issue. It was how much more than the normal daily intake of a vampire it represented. If Mick is still that ill, why is this guy leaving? He'd opened his mouth to ask just that but Josef had beat him to the punch.

"I agree with Guillermo, much as it pains me to admit it." Kostan shot the vampire in question a sly look. "That's a lot of blood – which suggests to me that you are still worried about his survival. I'll ask you again – is it safe for Mick for you to leave now?" Josef's tone had indicated that he didn't think so.

"There's nothing else I can do for him, Mr. Kostan. No surgery, no other treatment. This amount of blood will, I believe, give him the best chance for recovery. As I said before, however, it is possible that he might not ever fully recover. Only time will tell. There's nothing to be gained from my staying – and Victoria was very insistent that I be back for this council meeting." Spector had shifted his weight uneasily from foot to foot. He wasn't nearly as confident as his words sought to convey and he was afraid that the vampire leader would sense that.

After conferring with Beth and Guillermo, Josef had finally agreed. Since then, they had all been forcing blood on Mick every moment he was conscious. While the injured vampire had difficulty staying awake for extended periods, he had been doing his best to comply.

Mick's eyes flew open. "Hey, Guillermo," he croaked, groping automatically for the blood.

The morgue assistant quickly grabbed the bag and guided the tubing to the prone vampire's lips.

Draining the bag, Mick lay back with a sigh. "Thanks, buddy." He smiled up at his friend. "Why does my throat still feel like seven miles of bad road?"

"You really don't remember?" Guillermo's black eyes studied his friend incredulously.

"No clue. I gather I should."

"Actually, it's probably better that you don't," Gasol admitted honestly. "Mick, you were in pretty bad shape. I'll be honest with you, I- " He paused to give himself time to get his emotions under control before continuing. "I didn't think you were going to make it. I've never seen a vamp be hurt that bad and live. And you..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"What, Guillermo?"

"You were in so much pain. I had to..." He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "I had to put you through so much, trying to get that silver out before it killed you. You were screaming and that's why your throat hurts so much. Because of what I did to you."

"Don't be an idiot. You saved me!"

Gasol shook his head, unable to look the injured vampire in the eye. "You don't understand, man. I got to where I couldn't take anymore. I went to Josef and told him I thought we should let you die. Because it was too hard on me! If it weren't for Josef insisting that we not give up, you wouldn't be alive!" His voice shook with self-loathing as he turned away.

Mick reached out to put a hand on his friend's arm. "But, I am alive - and, it's because of you. Beth told me how hard you worked to keep me alive until Dr. Spector got here. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. I owe you my life, man. Thank you."

Guillermo pulled himself together with effort, swiping at his eyes. "Hey, you're welcome." He barked out a harsh laugh. "You can buy me drinks when you get out of here." He smiled down at Mick, noting that his eyes showed slightly more hazel color than they had earlier that morning. "From the looks of things, that won't be long, either."

"I feel better already. What did the doc say about getting this IV out now that I'm drinking blood?"

"As soon as we get you up to three quarts of blood a day. That's Dr. Spector's orders. Think you can get that done?" Gasol looked down at his friend, his arms folded. "And I'm not disconnecting this until I see that happen. Period. I'm way too afraid of Beth to take any short cuts." This time, his laugh was genuine. He eyed the second IV, delivering massive amounts of morphine to the injured vampire. "I'm guessing you don't wanna give up your high yet, though."

Mick shifted slightly on the bench and grimaced as the movement pulled at the still unhealed incision. "Nope. Not yet," he admitted.

"Look, I gotta get back to L.A. before they give my job to Terrance. Gotta make sure we can keep the blood supply coming too. I'll be back to see you at the end of the week. You gonna be okay?" His black eyes scanned his friend's still-battered body worriedly.

"Yep. I'll be fine - thanks to you, buddy."

"Well, don't push it. Beth'll kill all of us if anything happens to you. She's a keeper, man - crazy in love with you and way braver than Josef or me, lemme tell you. You're a lucky guy."

"Don't I know it. "Mick thought of Beth earlier that day, sitting in the cold room with him, holding his hand and listening to him talk about Michael. As he spoke, he could feel her shivering, but she had refused to leave until he was through and ready to sleep again.

"Take care of yourself, man." Guillermo leaned over and gave his friend an awkward hug before hurrying out.

Mick watched him go, his strange silver-and-hazel eyes following the morgue assistant as he left. With a sigh, he shifted awkwardly, searching for a more comfortable position before closing his eyes tiredly. As he was surrendering himself to sleep, he heard Guillermo's voice. This is going to hurt him - a lot. Keep talking to him, Beth. The screams that echoed in his head followed him into his nightmares.

John Spector had done his best.

Since they had landed in New York late in the afternoon, the physician had worked on the prisoner non-stop, performing surgery to repair torn ligaments and tendons, setting the numerous broken fingers, and administering medication to alleviate the man's pain and sedate him.

After the last finger was set, he told Victoria that Conner Engels, in all likelihood, never going to have the full use of his hands again. There had been too much nerve damage and too much time had gone by before he received medical attention.

"No matter." Victoria dismissed his concerns with a wave of one perfectly manicured hand. "He's not going to live long enough to worry about that."

Spector's gray head jerked up from his focus on the bandage he was applying after the final repair. "Then why in the hell did you have me do all this work on him?!" He gestured at the unconscious man's heavily splinted and wrapped hands.

"Because, John," Victoria explained patiently, "it is important that Mr. Engels believe he will live, believe that there will be some sort of normal life ahead of him. A desperate man is someone I can reason with, work with. A man in despair, however..." She shrugged. "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here." The entrance to hell, right? Without hope, there is no incentive for him to cooperate."

"You intend to kill him then."

"I do," she said simply, her steady blue gaze meeting his eyes unapologetically.

"No. I do."

The two looked up to see Gabrielle step into the room. "I want him, V. You promised me I could finish him," she reminded her mentor.

The elder vampire sighed. "Very well, Gabby. If it is revenge you want, who am I to stand in your way."

"Victoria, I did not agree to this kind of thing when I took this position with you." Spector stated firmly, his dark eyes sparking with anger beneath heavy gray eyebrows. "We discussed my desire for research to better understand vampire physiology, and I agreed to help, if I could, when it was needed for members of your community. But this..." He indicated the prisoner and shook his head. "I cannot be party to torture and murder."

"John, at the risk of sounding melodramatic... you are either for us or against us." This had to happen sooner or later. The vampire leader crossed her arms, waiting for his response.

The physician stiffened. "I think I made that choice when I first joined your employment, don't you? I believe I have shown myself to be a valuable member of your staff. I'm proud of the fact that you are standing here today because of my efforts. Mr. St. John is also recovering – because of me. If that isn't enough for you..." He shrugged and spread his hands helplessly. "Well, if that isn't enough, then I don't know what more I can do."

The beautiful vampire laid her hand on his arm. "I appreciate what you have done, John, and I have made others aware of your contributions as well. I know that your intentions are good; you have proved that over and over. I don't want this to come between us. Help me now and we will discuss this further later. We will work it out."

The physician acquiesced. Really, what choice did he have? "You know the old quote, 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions', Victoria. Please don't make me regret my decision to join you." What have I gotten myself into?

The sky over the vineyard had deepened to a rich, velvety purple, banded with a final flair of orange and yellow that seemed to set the ground on fire. For long minutes, Beth had stood at the study window, where Josef had so recently held vigil for his gravely injured friend, transfixed as night swallowed the view and a brilliant moon appeared, illuminating the scenery.

"Beth, are you all right?"

The young woman jumped and whirled around to see Simone poised in the doorway, a garment bag slung over her arm and a small carry-on suitcase balanced behind her.

"You scared me, Simone! Just trying to clear my head. Welcome back."

The lawyer eyed her skeptically as she walked into the room. To her, Beth looked just as exhausted as she had since this nightmare had started. "It looks to me like what you need to clear your head is some actual sleep. Mick's getting better; you don't need to be in that room every minute now."

Beth protested. "I'm fine. Really. I'll be even better when I can get into my own clothes. This outfit makes me feel a little... overdressed." She indicated her low-cut black dress with a laugh. Gabrielle had not been the only one to raid Josef's now-infamous 'Closet of Shame', searching for fresh clothing. "It seems like there are only two types of outfits in that closet – slinky, sexy dresses... or slut wear."

Simone burst out laughing as she made her way across the room. "So true. I do think, though, that Gabrielle got the worst of it."

Beth arched one eyebrow. "Gee, I don't know. I'm giving some serious thought to getting one of those shirts for myself. Too bad that one would never have fit me."

"Really. Well, maybe having your own clothes again will restore your sense of style, because I think exposure to Josef's closet has caused you to lose it!" Simone paused to eye her new friend. "You know, you really might want to consider waking Mick up before you take that dress off, though. I think seeing you in that would speed his recovery tremendously."

Beth snorted. "Or set him back a month! Honestly, I feel like a dishrag - I only seem to have the energy to walk from point A to point B and stare out a new window."

"Not too surprising given the hell you've just been through. It's just catching up with you, that's all. How's your arm?" Simone nodded at Beth's still heavily-bandaged wrist.

"When I think about it, it hurts. So...I just don't think about it." She shrugged. "Compared to what Mick's been going through, this is a scratch."

"Well, you're a lot braver than I am. I don't handle the sight of blood well - especially when it's mine! Here you go; I think I found everything you had on the list." Simone deposited the suitcase and garment bag on the oversize couch that dominated the room.

"Thank you, Simone. You have no idea how nice it was of you to do this. I can't wait to get into some of my own clothes."

The lawyer had offered to drive up to Los Angeles to get fresh clothing and personal items for the two of them, and stack any mail and papers so that there were no tell-tale signs of their absence. "No problem. Trust me, I felt the same way. I swiped Josef's driver, so I slept most of the way. I needed to check in with the office anyway. We have some pretty important deals on the table that needed review – and Josef certainly isn't paying attention. Understandably," she hastened to add.

"What, your boss won't give you some time off?!" Beth made a face. "Where is Josef, anyway? I need to give him hell over that after all you've done to help Mick."

"He's gone, Beth. Didn't he tell you?" And if he didn't, why didn't he?

"Gone?!" Kostan leaving so soon after Spector departed seemed out-of-character for the billionaire, given how he had hovered close by ever since Mick had been shot. "Where did he go?"

"Now that, I do not know. He just said it was something he had to do and that he would be back by tomorrow evening. Oh, and he said we could help ourselves to any wine that Gabby, Logan and Ryder didn't drink. He wasn't too sure there was much left, though..." Simone smiled slyly. "Only Josef would own a vineyard that's short on wine!"

Beth's laugh was genuine. So was her anxiety over Josef being gone before Mick recovered. It was irrational, of course – all that could be done for Mick now was rest, cold, blood…and time. Still, it worried her – and made her aware of how much she'd come to rely on the older vampire. Your world just keeps getting crazier and crazier, Turner…

End Song: Mad World, Alex Parks