Way Down I'll Go

Yea, Though I Walk Through the Valley

"I promise I'm not stalking you or anything," she spoke with a nervous laugh.

Really? That's what you decided to open with?

He whirled around at the sound of her voice, his fevered grey eyes meeting hers. He tried to speak but no words came out. She noticed he was  clutching tightly at the doorframe and realized almost too late that he was about to collapse. She slid the baby from his arms just in time, though she suspected Jo would have found a way to fall without hurting him.

He fell to the floor painfully, and for a brief second, all she could do was stare. Very quickly, she realized she wasn't the only one staring. A brood of children were staring as well, not at the man passed out on the floor, but at her. There was a brief standoff in which no one said a word. And then her training kicked in and she sprung into action.

"It's okay. My name's Rachel. I'm a friend. I need to help your brother. He's very sick. Can someone take the baby for me?"

The tallest boy stepped forward and relieved her of the child.

"What can I do?" he asked calmly.

"I might need help getting him into his bed."

The boy handed the baby to a boy behind him and grabbed ahold of his brother's legs while she grabbed him around the waist. Jo groaned and whimpered at the touch, flinching away from her. She shushed him soothingly and lifted him off the floor with the boy's help, though she likely could have lifted him herself. He didn't seem to weight much.

That in itself was worrying.

"Where is his bed?" she asked as they carried him.

"Right behind you, against the window."

She glanced behind her, horrified to find a thin blanket and sheet on the floor with a pillow that was about as thin as the blanket.

"That's his bed??"

She didn't mean to let the shock show in her voice, but there it was.

"Yeah," the boy said quietly, with a measure of embarrassment.

They laid him down gently and she began to assess him. His pupils were equal, but with delayed responses, his breathing erratic and coarse, and his forehead hot to the touch. She needed supplies, but didn't want to leave him.

"What's your name, buddy?"

"Drew."

"Drew, I need to get some supplies to help him. Can you watch over him until I get back?" He nodded. "Wet down a cold wash cloth and keep it on his forehead. I'll be back in 20 minutes."

She raced down the stairs of the apartment building, almost forgetting to be afraid of the neighborhood. Almost. Breaking several speed limits on the way, she pulled up to the clinic and unloaded everything she thought she could possibly need and then some. Since she had been donating monthly from her trust fund to equip this clinic, she didn't feel too badly about taking from it. She'd simply increase her donation next month to make up for it.

On her way back, she wondered again what had possessed her to be running through the worst parts of Chicago in the wee hours of the night. Everything she knew told her to call an ambulance and drag the poor man to the ER. But she had seen the look in his eyes when he'd spoken of the cost. She didn't fully understand, but knew it would have been a burden too great to handle. And there was something about him... His eyes... She had never felt so drawn to a person in her life.

She had to make several trips to carry the supplies from her car and each time, she imagined someone grabbing her from behind and stabbing her in the back. Entering with the final load, she surveyed her patient. He was drenched in sweat. Not good. Popping a thermometer in his ear, her eyebrows shot up at the number 105.1. Not good at all.