End of Innocence

Chapter 13

Cabin, Cimarron, next morning

Before sunrise Reese had slowly become aware of the sounds around him. Usual creaks and groans of an old wood cabin. He'd slept on his side, with the bad one up, and thanks to the pain pills he'd slept through 'til morning.

Needed to get up. Remembered to watch for the tubing so it didn't catch on something. Reese turned to look at the IV bag hanging from the hook of a coat rack. The little clear chamber below it was barely dripping anything into the tubing anymore. Just enough to keep the line running.

A little further away, in one of the big cushy armchairs, Shaw'd curled up with one of the wool blankets over the top of her. He heard her breathing, quiet and regular, like she was deep in her dreams.

Reese lifted the covers off him, as quiet as he could be. He knew he'd do better if he rolled himself – instead of sitting himself up just yet. Probably going to be dizzy after laying like this for days. Didn't wanna end up on the floor.

He rolled himself onto the bad side. The wound sounded the alarm. Made him groan under his breath and grimace. Maybe if he switched his free hand over and cupped it on top of the bad spot it'd make it hurt less. He pressed down lightly with his hand; it wasn't any worse.

Reese let his legs drop over the edge and used the weight of them to swing himself up to sitting. Less stress on his gut that way. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he had to breathe through it to keep the nausea at bay. Gradually, with the breathing, it dropped down until he was able to open his eyes again. The room looked steady.

Reese slid himself forward on the quilt underneath him and tipped himself forward off the couch. The wound grabbed at him like something biting into his side. And his legs felt shaky under him. He grabbed for the arm of the couch to steady himself.

Glanced over to Shaw. She hadn't moved.

He took a step, hanging onto the arm of the couch in case his legs gave out. Then another, and the next. Felt like he'd be okay. When he went to stand, he pulled his hand away and the IV tubing caught on the arm, yanking through all the loops Shaw had carefully taped down. The end of the tubing pulled free and flung itself out in the air. But the catheter stayed in the vein. His blood backed up, out the open end – down his arm and out onto the floor in a trail.

Reese limped forward, as softly as he could, and down the hall to the bathroom. In there, he closed the door behind him and rested against it for a minute to catch his breath. He steadied himself with a hand on the front of the sink.

Needed a shower. He'd sweated through his clothes again during the night, and he felt itchy all over. It wasn't until he'd flipped the light on that he'd focused on the trail of blood he'd been leaving behind him.

Stopped the flow with a fingertip over the end of the catheter. Then he just yanked the thing out of him, tape and all. Still had a hole in the skin straight into the vein, and it kept bleeding after the catheter was gone. He slipped a finger over the hole and pressed on it.

Then he looked around at the blood he'd left all over the bathroom. Walking disaster wherever he went. Could tell his brain wasn't right. Shoulda known this'd happen when the tubing pulled out. Couldn't quite get his wits about him. Felt like he'd been hit by a tank.

Reese kept his finger over the hole in his skin and reached above the sink to the cabinet. Scrounged around in there for something to stop the bleeding and came up with a few bandaids leaning together on a shelf. Used his teeth to rip the cover off one of them and pull the tab off half.

Then he let go of the hole with the left hand and grabbed the bandaid. Blood oozed and he thought it wouldn't stick, but it held. Pulled the tab off the other half and stuck it down with a little pressure over the middle to stop it. The blood on his tongue from his hand had the same metallic taste as the stuff Shaw was giving him for the infection. Ugh.

Needed a shower to think. Needed to clean up the bloodbath he'd made, too.

The door opened.

Shaw, staring at him…

"Thought I'd find you dead in here," she said, her eyes calm, dark pools.

"Workin' on it," he said in his whisper-voice. Smiled with his eyes. Forgot she didn't get that, usually.

"I'll take care of it," he said, finally. Shaw shook her head.

"How 'bout makin' us some coffee. This is more my speed," she said. "Mind the blood in the hallway." Her eyes never changed.

"Lemme wash up," he said, and backed her out of the doorway.

At first he was just going to wash his hands and go back out to the kitchen to make some coffee, but when he looked at the mess on his arm and his clothes, and smeared on his face, he pulled off his clothes and got the shower running. It had one of those handheld showerheads so he could aim it and keep it away from the gauze on his belly.

Stepped in holding the wall and let the water fall over his head. Maybe that'd get his head clear. Felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Couldn't think straight. Soaped up his hands and arms in the spray, and got most of the blood off, then he took the handle down and sprayed it, hotter, over his legs. Wished he could stand in the spray and heat up his whole body but he remembered he wasn't supposed to get the gauze wet over a wound.

When he leaned forward to soap his legs, he felt that wave of dizziness starting to come back. Sat on the edge of the tub to soap up, and then started low to rinse off. By the time he was ready to stand, the dizziness had passed, and he rinsed the rest of the soap off him while he was standing. Soaped his hair and lathered it up, then rinsed all the soap off him one more time.

He heard Shaw out there, rummaging around in the cabinets. She tossed him a towel and watched him wobble out of the shower under his own steam. He wrapped the towel around him and limped past her down the hall to the bedroom, where he'd hung his clothes from New York.

Once he was dressed, Reese walked barefoot down the hallway. Shaw had taken a bottle of something in a brown container, and she was splashing it over all the blood spots in the hall and the living room. Then she disappeared again, and he heard her in the bathroom. He'd left a pool of blood on the floor, and it'd flowed out under the door into the hallway.

Amazing what even half-a-shower could do for a person. He felt like his brain was starting to work again.

Reese set up the coffee pot and got it going. Then he limped over to the fridge and looked inside. They still had some of Chase's food that he'd brought in. Some home fries piled in one corner, and a spoonful of eggs in another. Still had a few slices of thick-cut ham. He decided to make a fresh batch of scrambled eggs for the two of them. Now that he'd smelled the food, he was hungry.

Shaw made her way down the hall and then into the living room, scrubbing the blood with something clear inside the brown bottle: peroxide, she said. Good for getting blood out of just about anything, she told him.

It bubbled when she poured it over the bloodspots.

When she'd finished in the living room, she disappeared again, and now he could hear the shower running in the bathroom: her turn for a shower, he guessed.

He'd just started heating the ham and the rest of the home fries in another pan on the stove when a cellphone buzzed.

Wasn't his.

Reese walked over to look and saw Shaw's phone on the kitchen table out in the living room.

The screen had lit up with just a single big letter on a black background: F.