In a hospital where no one speaks his language Ricky is stuck in a silent spiral. He's discovered that they've woke up in Spain and after walking through negative temperature weather he's pretty sure he's delusional. The boy they'd found out in the snow was able to regain consciousness around the time they'd gotten to bridge over frozen water that led back to the main land.
This Valerio reminded him of Peter Pan as all he could say in english were two phrases; "Growing up is a waste of time." and "Wishing we could fly away."
The three of them watched, out there in the cold, as Valerio poured out a small package of something powdery and white into the snow and then he gave Nicky his coat. They got to the mainland after about fifteen minutes and walked into a small shopping outlet where Valerio walked in and asked someone behind a counter to call an ambulance.
It took no time to get here. The emergency room was practically empty. Hardly anyone can afford medical help down here. The most exciting thing to happen in the pit here was just the day before where all those who could be rushed in from the Las Encinas massacre were triaged and operated on. The few remaining survivors are few and far between. Time was not on the side of the students.
His eyes go to the window where snow is falling so gracefully into a field of evergreens. A single snow ball bush rests in the center and every petal is in bloom. How his insides ache. First his parents, now this. What about Detective Garcia? Is he through with the challenges? Will the Harpers ever know? How are they getting back to the united states? His bright blue eyes well up with tears and this new day, the first day of December, feels so very empty and dark. What a Christmas this is shaping up to be, huh?
"Why do you keep checking your watch? Or is that your fit bit?" Asks Polo as he and Guzman sit on a park bench.
Guzman's freckled face is so saddened as he looks up at his Polito, "There's something I want to go see but I'm not going without Ander."
"You think he'll be out in time?" Asks Polo.
Guzman shrugs, "I wish he would talk to us. He likes to go about things alone."
Polo nods. Their friend is a specific kind of fellow. Ander is strong and silent and wants to handle all his problems lone wolf style but manages to always come trotting back to Polo and Guzman the moment he's done with whatever ails him. Long fingers wrap around Guzman's drying out knuckles and Guzman looks at Polo.
"You're so worried." Says Polo slowly, "You're always so worried..."
Guzman huffs, "With friends as wild and reckless as you two, I have to be."
Thick sweaters, checkered scarves. Ice blue Guzman next to soft mauve Polo and the world around them is a shade of pale grey, white, and silver. The wind whistles and it's haunting. Then comes the soft buzzing. The two of them look up to the sky at the chopper coming in. It's headed for Grey/Sloan. Who's getting flown in on a cold, dead day like this?
"We should go check on Ander. He should be through by now-" Guzman goes to stand but then Polo has a hold on him.
Polo's looking off at something now, something near but also far. It's absolutely obscene with Guzman but he waits patiently. Worry returning to his stomach. This is almost frightening. If he didn't love Polo with everything in him he'd swat the boy in the back of the head and encourage that they go but then Polo is turning pale.
"It's happening." Says Polo, "I'm... here but... not."
A trick of the light, his mind playing with him, Guzman can't peg exactly what it is but he's thrown enough to believe, if only for a moment, that Polo physically slipped from his grasp. That Polo looked almost like mere smoke floating up from the sewer grates. It's was frightening and now both boys are standing there on the sidewalk because Guzman pulled them up together determined to erase the in-explainable from his memory.
"Come on. We're wasting time." Says Guzman.
The hanging crescent moons hang above them from the marquee of the department store behind them. No one's out here, not yet any ways, but the sound of people setting up to open this Celtic themed restaurant comes out along with the smell of warm freshly baked bread. Polo shivers vehemently and looks at Guzman with fear in his bright blue eyes. He looks about to cry.
"I see nothing Guzman, please help." The words help Polo's friend realize his eyes are wide with fear because they've gone blank, "All I see is nothing. It's not a color like darkness would be. It's awful. It's the absence of everything. Tell me you're still there."
Guzman sees his friend beginning to vanish the way steam does as hot bread is torn apart. He's reaching out to the boy he loves and wrapping his fingers into the overlap of purple on purple in the jacket Polo's wearing to pull the more frail young man to his chest. There's the warmth. It hasn't gone away yet.
Deep breath, "We will wait. You tell me when you're ready, okay." Says Guzman.
"I love you." Polo tells him.
Guzman nuzzles Polo and then he's suddenly not standing anymore. He's sitting there on the park bench as though he'd never gotten up. There's a gust of steam released from the sewer grate and the door to the restaurant behind him swings open. The smell of butter being spread on soft pillowy bread comes seeping out as a gentleman carries boxes to the dumpster a few yards away. Polo's gone. Guzman is all alone on the street corner here where the city meets the park.
"This may be upsetting to you... or it could help... I have no way of knowing until he tries. He needs this. He's been alone for days. He was found by children much younger than him. He- he's from your school. Or he was there at a point. We wanted to run it by you first, before we bring him in here but I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't think it was absolutely necessary." Dr. Amelia is sitting on his bed. She never does that. Ander's heart starts to race.
He pulls in a deep breath. What if it's Omar. What if he was wrong. Is it possible? Who is this?
Ander nods. It's all he can do. Then through the door on a gurney comes Valerio and Ander is once again shattered into very tiny pieces. This is who fate decided to procure? Lucrecia is gone, this confirms it. How, and why, does Omar have to die while a drug addict, party animal gets to live? This isn't fair but Ander's suddenly thinking about the dream. The burns, the screaming, the underground. Maybe he should talk to that Camille woman, Valerio is charred in places.
Healing burns is much worse than getting them and getting them sucks pretty bad. Ander thinks about all the time he's been comfortable over the last few days with Polo and Guzman, while Valerio was alone, comfortably warm, while Valerio was being cooked, being taken care of by doctors, while Valerio was picked up by younger, inexperienced, children.
"You said children younger than him. Freshman survived the gunman?" Asked Ander because Valerio was still sleeping from post op medications.
Dr. Sheppard hesitates for only a moment before she decided this could help in other areas, "Actually the three kids we found were from the states. They haven't spoken but, and this is against HIPPA so it stays between us, according to psych their behavior is much different than shooter victims. They're much smaller than you and your friends. No identifications on them yet, they haven't even told us their names. Valerio insisted they fly in with him. They only agreed because the investigation is happening here and detective stone is going to be questioning Valerio when he wakes up. Maybe it'll help find detective Garcia."
"He's not dead." Says Ander, "Carlos, I mean. I think he might be at the school."
A nurse rolls by the window with a cart full of juices and fruits and Ander is slightly distracted. Amelia looks back at Dr. Avery (head of plastics) who's coming in to asses the burns on Valerio and clears her throat. Amelia then says very plainly, "Las Encinas has been checked. There's no one there."
"A school existed before Las Encinas and reminents of it are still there, Dr. Sheppard. By the way could you please send Schmidt to me. I could use some juice." Ander smiles.
Amelia's eyes widen with understanding and she nods, "Of course." Then adverts her attention to the other doctor, "Avery."
"Sheppard." He chirps back as he pulls up a rolling chair next to Valerio and begins his examination, "Oh... these will heal nicely."
A bell dings as a door open. A small old man sits behind a desk surrounded by books. Brightly colored birds swoop down over Guzman's head as he makes his way over scattered hay and through a make shift forest of fake trees. The whimpers of four, yet to be adopted, puppies out in the window display. There kennel is a dark green painted fence decorated with gold and red garland. The one with the bow wrestles with the one that looks all dopey and gnaws on his ear.
"No charge. If you got proof you can take care of them. They're retrievers but they ain't pure bloods. Ain't got no permit to sell them." The old man gruffs as he puffs on a pipe and a fat white cat reveals it's self on the counter from behind a stack of Jane Austin novels. The feline trots over and sits down in front of the old man so that they both can stare at Guzman.
With a heavy sigh Guzman goes around collected different colored leads, collars, and sweaters. Peach for the one with the bow, sunlight yellow for the one with the spotted eye, soft light brown for the dopey looking one, and deep ocean blue for the one that looks so sad all the time. He comes over to the desk, lays them down, and pulls out his cellphone.
"This device, the one I use for everything, is a released copy of a phone not available to the public yet." He turns it over a few times in front of the store owner and then tucks it back in his pocket before reaching inside his shirt collar to pull out a necklace that belonged to his family, "I'm a wealthy young gentleman from Spain and I've moved here to improve my education."
Finally, he pulls out the money to pay for the merchandise. He says, "It's been a painful few weeks, we lost some dear friends and family to an accident and we could use some morale in our new home."
Guzman has no reason to lie to the store owner. He isn't doing anything illegal, he's in the middle of getting citizenship here in the U.S. and out of all the hundreds of people walking by this store everyday he is the only one to stop by and ask about the puppies. The old man nods, takes the money and dings the drawer to hand out the change due, then puffs on his pipe a little more as the cat rolls backwards onto it's side before plopping down heavily into the old mans lap.
The bell to the store's door dings again and Guzman is all smiles as he is basically dragged down the sidewalk by four galloping beautiful new friends.
He's running down this hall and he's been running for what feels like forever. The pipes above him leak onto his face. His sneakers squeak as he trudges in and out of dips in concrete where water has pooled. The walls are green from moss and bacteria and the temperature is warmer than it should ever be. That red light flashing above him is annoying.
He's slipping his entire body inside a locker to hide as he hears people behind him. Beneath his feet are papers of a thick consistency and he finds it hard to keep his ballance. Two gentleman walk by and Polo recognizes one. It's his Uncle Carlos! The young man basically trips to come out of hiding and rolls out onto the concrete.
Detective Garcia and the other gentleman turn to look at the mess and the open locker having jumped in fright just a little themselves.
"Uncle Carlos!" Smiles Polo as he stand but he's taken back by the look Carlos is giving him or rather the space around him.
Polo get closer and continues to speak to them, "Uncle. It's me."
The two of them look at one another confused and turn as if completely ignoring the young man who's all alone in the halls of an abandoned building. Polo even reaches out to touch them but his fingers slip through as if he himself wasn't actually there. He steps back in panic breathing heavier and heavier with every step. Then his eyes roll and all he sees is the nothing.
This goes on for sometime. Polo swimming in this void of time and space. Then he's awoken in a pool of his own sweat and there's something crawling all over him. Multiple somethings. He rolls over in the sheets and comes face to face with a cold wet nose booping him in his nose. It's covered in fur, yelping in a language Polo can't understand, and then all four of them plop their thick little paws down onto Polo's chest pushing him back into the soft pillows and the mattress. They go for the face, and Polo's laugh is that of a donkeys as they kiss him all over and then the dopey one burps in his eye and he's laughing harder as he pulls away.
That's when Polo sees Guzman and he can't get up to him fast enough. Guzman's on the foot of the bed before Polo has a chance to move. A door opens somewhere out in the hall and the puppies scurry away with their many tiny nails tic tacking on the tile flooring in an echo as they go.
"You disappeared... where'd you go? I couldn't find you." Guzman gets closer and Polo leans into the pillows again slowly.
Polo responds, "You did, though. You did find me. I couldn't but you did. You found me and I'm here now so do something."
And Guzman kisses Polo.
