Who: Daryl, Kyle, Sam and Adam What: Hospital fun times. Where: Starting out side Hamartia and moving to Virginia Mason Hospital ER When: Saturday (2/19) afternoon Warnings: Some vague mentions of needles, people caring about toasters.
Adam had her. She was in his arms as he barreled down the steps, the hell with that Sara girl and Tim and the sociopathic asshole who had done all this. If they all ended up dead, he didn’t care, because he had Daryl, and that was all that mattered. The stairs didn’t even bother him as he rushed down, his feet clanging against the metal grating. He wasn’t looking at the stairs, or what lay beyond his own feet. His gaze was fixed on Daryl’s face, more pallid than usual. The dark smudges under her eyes were more pronounced, and for a minute, Adam had to fight the urge to pull the Glock out of its holster at his side, storm back up to that apartment, and put a bullet in that fucker’s brain.
The urge was base and primal, and the more rational part of him overrode it. Bite marks peppered her arms, her clothes were torn. She was breathing, but the breaths were shallow and labored. Sometimes, she moved, but only a little, and doing so was obviously a chore. When he had initially grabbed her, she had muttered something barely comprehensible. He hadn’t paid much attention; anything she had to say could wait, and he’d shrugged out of the Kevlar vest and put it on her instead. She had probably been bitching about that.
Kicking open the front door, Adam stepped into the bright light of the day, wincing a little as his eyes adjusted. He stayed still long enough for a voice in his ear to assure him he was free to move without getting shot at. He jogged toward where Kyle and Orin were waiting, giving Orin a tight smile of relief. “Virginia Mason has the closest ER,” he said, directing the words more toward Kyle than Orin but he was definitely speaking to both.
His gaze shifted to Orin’s face. “If you’re not busy, meet us there?” he asked. “I don’t... they probably won’t let you back, but I want someone.” He broke off, taking a ragged breath. The adrenaline coursing though him made it difficult to think and talk. He wanted to move, to act, not to sit around discussing things. His gaze swung back to Kyle. “This car is yours?” He didn’t even wait for a confirmation, just shifted Daryl so he could open the door, and then he dropped inside, impatiently waiting for someone to flip on the sirens and go. There were a million different thoughts running through his head as he waited not-so-patiently for Adam to retrieve Daryl from the apartment. He was ready to do anything necessary, but he’d been walking on pins and needles since Adam’s original phone call. Between Daryl and Quinn Kyle was running on nothing but worry and fumes of exhaustion.
When Adam finally showed up with Daryl he opened the drivers side and slid in. He put the siren on quickly and pulled out onto the street without paying much attention. “Is she alright?” He asked as he stepped on it. Everything was a blur. The stairs flew underneath them, each individual step melting into the next. She tried to focus on them as he carried her down, but found the effort too great. Every time he shifted, arms adjusting to better hold her, she wanted to move to help him. But she was frozen, arms hanging awkwardly from her shoulders like lead pipes. There was nothing she could do, nothing at all.
When he stepped out into the sunlight, she let out a small, pained yelp. It was brighter than anything she had seen since the previous day, too bright for her to tolerate. She buried her face - for she could still move her neck - against Adam’s neck, wishing that she could move even one hand to further protect her eyes from the burning sun. The sound of voices in Adam’s earpiece were vaguely audible, but they weren’t forming words - just sounds, gobbledygook she couldn’t understand.
The rumble of Adam’s chest let her know that he was speaking, but like the voices in his ear, it was just noise. The only difference was that this noise was nice to listen to. A part of her told her that she shouldn’t be enjoying his noise because - as Sophie put it - it was just bullshit. But the way the vibrations filled her was calming, and she found herself relaxing despite herself as he sat down.
More noise rattled in her ears, noise that sounded like Kyle and noise that sounded like just noise. As she felt the car speed up around them, she looked down at herself, her body curled up in Adam’s arms. Her arms were resting between her knees, stacked one atop the other. She tried to move her fingers, to create even a wiggle, but saw nothing. They were just dead weight, pieces of plastic attached to her brain. Cringing slightly, she pressed her nose against Adam’s neck, inhaling slowly. He smelled like sweat and panic, but it was better than the musty dank of Hamartia 301. And of course, he still smelled like Adam. Hints of his body soap and deodorant overlay the sweat, a minor placation.
As she felt the car rattle over the road, she looked down at their bodies again. Without elaborating, she sighed two words into his skin, too muffled to properly hear. “Seat belt.” “She was given a paralytic. Science must be taking a day off from making sense because she can still breathe,” Adam replied sourly, pulling her closer to his chest. She muttered something against his shirt, but he ignored it. It was probably something pragmatic about seat belts and safety. Refuge in the normal, he supposed.
Not that he was going to put on a seat belt anyway. People could get the hell out of the way of a cop car, and if someone did have the misfortune of causing an accident with their car, not only would it serve to get them to a hospital anyway, he’d have the joy of decimating their bank account at a later date. Having a lawyer for a sister delighted him in oh so many ways some days. “Can you do that light changing thing to make us get there faster?” he inquired, leaning forward slightly. He didn’t know much about paralytics, or what on earth could have possibly been going on up there, but he wasn’t at all pleased about any of it. “Jesus, what the hell was going on up there?” he damn near demanded.
Kyle was already going at speeds that were considered above and beyond what he ought to be doing, but he understood the urgency. He was doing what he could, and he was running every light they came across anyway, but he just nodded at Adam, not really feeling like defending his driving at the moment. If only because he understood what he’d be doing if this situation were reversed. He’d be screaming and yelling, at least Adam wasn’t screaming in his ear. “We’re almost there,” was what he said instead. “Don’t know the whole of it,” Adam said, “and I don’t honestly care. I’m pissed enough that Tim didn’t think Daryl would find out about this, even more pissed that he didn’t try to stop her from doing anything, and I’m yet again pissed because I said something stupid to her that probably made it worse.” He looked down at the woman in his lap and winced, because he was talking about her like she wasn’t there. Tightening his hold on her, he drew her to his chest. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m so damn sorry, but if you die on me because that asshole stuck you full of snake venom and drugs, I will kill you flatter than dead.” Of course he didn’t listen to her comment about the seat belt. It was almost amusing how, in this mad dash to safeguard her life, both Kyle and Adam were putting themselves and her in near-mortal danger. Though she couldn’t see out the window, she felt the swerve and buckle of the car around them, able to tell that they were exceeding many speed laws. The fact that neither of them were wearing a seat belt just made it worse. If she could move her arms, she’d fasten it herself. Instead, she just sat still against his chest as he and Kyle garbled noise at one another.
It wasn’t until he whispered in her ear that she actually made sense of the conversation. Chills ran down her spine, and she closed her eyes tightly. Adam Morgenstern never apologized. It was only fitting that his apology be coupled with threats of laughable violence that were not only impossible but also ludicrous. Why on earth would he assume that dead meant “flat” in any way, and why would he attempt to kill a dead person? Thankfully, she was able to see past the petty details - momentarily, of course - to understand the larger picture.
She didn’t bother moving or attempting to make herself more easily heard. She just spoke as she was, head tucked under his chin and spine curled forward against her thighs. “I told him,” she said, voice flat and dull. “I would die at the hands of a man far greater than he.” She took a deep breath. “I keep my word.” A smile spread slowly across his face, foolish but tinged with delight. “And you better continue keeping it,” he said, giving her forehead an affectionate kiss.
They pulled up to the hospital and Adam all but kicked the door open in his haste to get out. He paused, ducking his head and talk to Kyle through an opened window. “Thank you. And I meant it: I owe you.” And Adam Morgenstern owing someone anything was like having a blank check with their name on it. He stepped away from the car as Kyle sped off, and turned to the ER entrance, suddenly overwhelmed and not feeling quite as energetic. The adrenaline was wearing off, and he realized he had no idea who the hell he needed to talk to.
The ER was easily Sam’s favorite and most hated part of the hospital. The amount of loathing he held for seeing people suffer was equal to amount of enjoyment he got out of helping people. It made him sound like some kind of caricature of the medical profession, he knew that, but it was true. There was also the fact that Sam Walker loved a challenge and if anyone told him that working in the ER wasn’t one, they clearly hadn’t been around on a Friday at three AM.
He was filling out paperwork at the desk, ignoring the sound of a crying infant in the waiting room. The child’s father had come in with three inches of glass embedded in his arm and was currently being sewn up by one of the doctors. Sam yawned, his chin resting in his palm as his pen scratched lazily against an insurance form. Healthcare gibberish.
Then, a man arrived, carrying a semi-conscious woman in his arms like a broken doll. Sam stood, calling over his shoulder for a doctor and sped-walked over, leaning over the woman to give her a cursory once-over as more nurses flanked him.
“What happened?” Thank God the universe cared about him enough to send someone over, because he hadn’t the slightest idea what the hell he was doing. He gave the man a quick once over. There was no immediate reason to back away and find someone else, so he started talking without saying much. He was good at that. He told the nurse all about the kidnapping and the phone call, interspersing it with more snarky side comments than were likely necessary. Then he told the nurse about the paralytics and the snake bites, which were obvious, but clearly no one was as observant as he was.
He summed the whole speech up with, “This is Daryl Hockney, I’m Adam Morgenstern, and if you try to put me in the waiting room, my sister will sue this hospital for everything you have, and I will own it by the end of the day.” That might have been intimidating if he didn’t look like hell with a half conscious woman in his arms. As the team of nurses approached, Daryl remained almost perfectly still - it wasn’t hard, given that she had no control of her arms or legs. She stared vacantly ahead, as if she had no idea that they were even in an Emergency Room. She did, however, make the tiniest of noises as Adam concluded his longwinded speech - he was acting hysterical. Sam felt his brain overheat a little at the mention of snakebites. Snakebites. In fact, as he looked the girl over, he could see them all over her pale skin. And paralytic drugs and a damn Kevlar vest. Who were these people? The man introduced himself as Adam Morgenstern, which rung a bell somewhere in the back of Sam’s mind, but he didn’t have time to wonder at it because a gurney was being wheeled out. Sam worked to remove the Kevlar as his fellow nurses went to move the girl to the gurney. She looked so small and fragile. Who could hurt a girl like this?
Sam was tempted to stand his ground with Mr. Morgenstern, but the look on his face and the weakness of the woman that he had brought in suggested that such behavior wouldn’t go over well. So, Sam put on his kid gloves and said in a gentle voice, “Sir, we’re going to do our best, but you need to let us. She’s in good hands.” Adam looked at the nurse like he had grown two heads, and the only reason he didn’t call Rowan was because he was being polite. He took a long breath, slow and deep, and released it. And then he did it again. Finally, he gave the nurse his most pleasant smile and said, “Sir, if you need to take her into an OR, I will wait outside of it. But nothing short of you needing to cut her open is going to keep me away from her right now. So you can either let me go with her or lose your job. Your choice.”
He brushed by the nurse, intending to follow the gurney, the other man be damned. This wasn’t about choices, this was about Daryl, and there was no way in hell he was letting her out of his sight. He didn’t trust any of these people. He didn’t know them. For all he knew, they were in league with the psycho who was blackmailing Tim. Oh, that was a foolish thought, but he was in the mood to act foolish. In another situation, Sam wouldn’t have responded well to threats, but he told himself that Mr. Morgenstern was worried and clearly not thinking straight. The other nurses began to wheel Ms. Hockney back into the Emergency Room and Sam made a mental note to signal the orderlies to keep an eye on Mr. Morgenstern in case he did something stupid.
“We’re going to need to clean her up and get fluids into her,” Sam replied as he started to follow the retreating gurney. He decided to ignore the empty threat to his job. “I’ll make an allowance for you, but you don’t touch anything. You stand back and you look on from a distance because the danger right now is infection.”
They needed blood. Morgenstern had mentioned drugs. Who knew what was swimming around in her system? An allowance was better than nothing. And the nurse was right. As he calmed down, he realized that, and Adam nodded. Initial panic subsiding, he kept pace with the gurney and focused on working himself down instead of up. This was a hospital. They would help her. And if they didn’t, or if they screwed up, he could skewer them all later.
The thought of skewering people lightened his mood a bit more, and a small smile tugged at his lips for half a second. Briefly, his mind fluttered to one of the accounts he was working on, and cold numbers floated through his head. He turned them over as he walked, using their impersonal values to soothe him a little more. “Agreed,” he said at last, realizing he hadn’t said anything to the nurse yet, and he slid his hands into his pockets. “Be careful with the IV. She bruises easily.” It was astounding how the hospital staff, comprised of individual people, moved like a cohesive unit. It was as if they were one creature, one entity, composed of many moving parts. She watched them envelope her, removing the Kevlar vest and setting her on the gurney. It was uncomfortable, so many hands in so many places, but there was nothing she could do. They removed her coat as well, pushing up her sleeves to expose her arms and removing her shoes and leggings to expose her legs.
They kept her back diagonal, allowing her to breathe easily, as they prepped her arm for an IV. Her gaze latched onto the back, eyes large and filling with worry. Clear liquid entering her body was the last thing she wanted to see, and despite the nurse’s kind words, she let out a small whimper. Another nurse handled taking blood from her while a doctor performed other tests. Sam was on IV duty, looping the bag of clear fluids up on a stand. Careful to avoid snakebites as he prepared the injection site, he was mindful of the warning about her bruising. Hiding a wince at her whimper, the outside world began to fade away to slow murmur of detail as Sam focused on the task at hand.
“You’re fine,” He murmured to Ms. Hockney. “You’re safe.” He hovered unnecessarily behind the nurse taking the blood to make sure it was done properly, never mind that he had no medical training and thus no idea how one properly drew blood. But he was there. And as soon as the nurse stepped away, he curled his hand around Daryl’s, careful not to touch her palm. His thumb stroked over the back of her hand and he gave her a tentative smile. “Don’t worry, poppet. If anyone hurts you, I’ll destroy them for you.”
Glancing at the nurses to make sure he wasn’t hindering anyone doing anything, he bent and gave her forehead a quick kiss. “I’m right here. I’m not leaving.” He released her hand and stepped back to give the nurses more room to do whatever they needed to do. But first chance he saw, he was climbing onto that gurney with her. The nurse’s controlled voice was the slightest bit comforting, simply because it suggested that he actually knew what he was doing. His body posture was relaxed and yet in control, and she could tell that he wasn’t hiding nerves or incompetence. Any tension she saw in his hands or face was revealed - by a few glances to Adam - to simply be the byproduct of an overbearing loved one nearby.
As Adam touched her hand, she tensed, chest tight. She couldn’t move her hand to respond, though she tried. It was plastic. Something in her wanted to pull it away, because all she could think about was the snake-man and the filthy sensation of his fingertips on her skin. The memory intensified as he bent to kiss her forehead, earning another strangled sound of horror as she leaned back against her gurney. She looked back at the nurse quickly, eyes wide, and spoke. Her voice was very soft, barely there, but she refused to remain completely silent. “I want the contents,” she said, gaze flickering once to the IV bag hanging overhead. Sam flicked the IV bag gently as the clear liquid began to flow through the tube and into the patient. He bit back a warning at Mr. Morgenstern, satisfied when the man stepped back from the gurney. Ms. Hockney murmured something about wanting to know the IV and Sam felt his chest swell with an unidentifiable emotion. Clearly, she was still suffering under the stress of her kidnapping and who wouldn’t be?
“It’s just saline,” He replied, his voice soft and comforting. “You’re dehydrated.” The gurney was moving again, further back into the hospital proper, where the doctors would take over and Sam suspected that Ms. Hockney would be given a room. Lingering behind the group, he followed as they finally made it to a room. He stood in the corner, by a window and a chair, watching the street below. People passed by, not a care in the world, not realizing what danger stood all around them. And to his surprise, he realized it mattered to him.
With a disgusted sneer, he turned away from the window, masking his distaste as one last nurse trailed out of the room, following a doctor. That left him alone with Daryl, who was laying in her bed looking all pathetic. A tiny smile appeared on his face, and he hurried to her bedside. He leaned over her so she could see his face, and the smile, and said, “Hey, sweetheart,” in a quiet voice. “Mind if I join you?”
No sounds of disapproval came from her, so he kicked off his shoes and very carefully eased himself into the bed with her. There was an awkward moment or two while he shifted her around, but finally they settled, her back to his chest, snugged between his legs. He looped his hands loosely around her waist and leaned his head back, against the pillow and closed his eyes. She almost told the nurse to prove that it was saline, but fell silent. The machine of human bodies working in unison moved up and down her, securing the IV and cleaning her snakebite wounds. It was like watching a clock run from the center, gears turning and fitting together perfectly. By the time it was done, she was bandaged up and arranged neatly on her bed. A hospital gown lay on the chair next to her, ready for her to change into later. The group left as quickly as it came, leaving her and Adam alone for the time being.
Still unable to move, she stared dully at the opposite wall. She tried to curl her fingers again, and didn’t need to look to know that they were sitting perfectly still at her side. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the sudden burning behind her eyelids. She only opened her eyes when she felt a presence at her side, opening them to see Adam’s smiling face. Though she didn’t return the expression or even accept his offer, she felt a strange sense of calm overtake her as he crawled into the bed beside her, adjusting them both comfortably.
Her eyes fell closed as he settled behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. He was warm and comforting, a concrete presence. She tried to rest her hand on his arm, to give a small touch to let him know that she was so happy to have him there. But, like before, her arm was a paperweight. Frustrated, she sniffed sharply once, burying her face in the pillow. When she was out of the woods, Sam and the other nurses left the room to give the couple some time alone. Still, Sam found himself gravitating toward the room every so often, curious as to what would become of the situation. He occupied the nurses’ desk with a spacey attitude. Now that the emergency had passed, he was caught up in the sheer insanity of the situation. One snakebite was strange. Many snakebites were…well, they were something else. Sam half hoped that if the doctors got an update on the back story of the kidnapping, that they would share it with the nurses. Even in his head, he knew that that was a horrible thing to hope for. Here was a woman who had been taken against her will and Sam thought it was interesting.
After a sufficient amount of time passed for Sam to not consider himself some kind of morbid fanboy, he left the desk and walked down the hall to Ms. Hockney’s room. Half in the door, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of the patient and her visitor curled up together on her bed. Casting a cautionary glance at the IV, which seemed fine, Sam decided against disturbing them and instead backed out of the room before heading back to his desk.