Based on the episode The Dragon and the Angel
January 1989
I knocked on the door of the hospital room gently and let myself in. In one hand, I had a bouquet of flowers, and in the other I had Tom's favorite candy. I received a call from Fuller that Tom got shot while on duty the night before, so I came to the hospital as soon as I could.
"Hey, Tom," I said sweetly as I walked in.
"Tom doesn't really want any visitors right now, Gregg," Fuller said to me.
Tom was laying on his stomach with a red plaid robe on with his hips lifted slightly in the air by a little swing that was hooked to the ceiling. If I was in his position, I don't think I'd want any visitors either. Half of Tom's face was pressed into the firm pillow but he asked, "Mick's here?"
"Yeah, I'm here," I said as I walked to the table to set my gifts down on it. "How does it feel?"
"How does what feel?" Tom mumbled.
"You know.... your ass?"
"Gregg," Fuller snapped at me.
"It feels like someone shot it," Tom said flatly, "I could go further into detail if you'd like."
"I'd appreciate that you keep it vague," I said.
He paused for a moment before he answered, "throbbing. Sharp if I squeeze."
"I now know more about your ass than I'd like," I joked.
"You asked," he mumbled.
"I'm human, I make mistakes," I said.
"I didn't want to come to the hospital. I'm never gonna financially recover from this," Tom stated.
"Oh," I responded to fill the silence.
"I have a bullet in my ass, and I can't remember any of my middle school teachers names," he said.
Fuller piped up, "they've pumped him full of pain medication."
"When you got shot in your leg and your chest, did you feel like you were on fire? 'Cause it feels like someone struck a match to my ass," Tom asked sleepily.
I nodded before I realized that he couldn't see me. I said, "yeah, it doesn't feel great."
Tom groaned and said, "I just realized that I'm going to have to figure out how to sit with this."
I winced at imagining the pain he must feel, and how it would feel to have to sit down on it. I put my hand on his shoulder and rubbed my thumb up and down tenderly in an attempt to comfort him.
"Try not to think about that yet, Tom," Fuller said.
"Hey, at least you still look good," I said to try to cheer him up.
"That doesn't make my ass feel any better," he mumbled.
"I'm trying to make lemonade here..."
"When I was younger I never thought I would be here... and here I am," Tom said in a higher toned voice.
"What the hell does that mean?" I asked while looking over at Fuller and trying not to laugh at his misfortune.
"It's the pain meds talking," Fuller said as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Hopefully they'll wear off soon."
"You know, I can't remember any of my middle school teachers names," Tom mumbled.
I scrunched my eyebrows together, certain that he said that already. I shrugged and squatted down by Tom's head and pushed some of his hair out of his face. There was a light beeping nearby, but otherwise the hospital was very quiet.
His eyes fluttered open and he said in his wobbly and drugged out voice, "you look so beautiful. Your pretty hair... pretty eyeballs... pretty pretty..."
As if I was talking to a child, I said, "thank you, Tom." I lightly scratched my finger nails on his scalp and his eyes closed again and he let his head relax. I knew it was just the drugs talking, so I didn't really think too hard about his compliment.
He mumbled, "that feels good. Please, don't stop."
"I won't," I promised. I tried to be nice by saying, "I passed the bowling alley on the way here, Tom. When you're feeling better, we can go."
"Y-yeah, okay. I'll love to do that, as soon as I remember my teachers names."
I asked Fuller in a low voice, "why is he obsessed with that?"
He shrugged. "I have no idea."
I went back to my normal volume and asked Tom, "who shot you?"
Fuller answered, "Blowfish is coming by with the report soon."
"I got shot in the ass and I can't remember any of my middle school teachers' names," Tom grumbled.
"Yeah," I said softly, "you've mentioned that four times now."
Tom paused before he asked, "have I really?"
"Yeah," Fuller and I both said.
I stopped scratching Tom's head and used the hospital bed to help myself stand back up. My knee still shoots up with pain when I do that without some assistance. I hope it'll get better soon. I don't want to be so young with a bad knee for the rest of my life. I turned to Fuller and said, "my lunch break is almost over. Keep me updated?"
"Will do," Fuller promised.
"I'll see you at the chapel, Tom," I said and gently rubbed his shoulder in compassion.
"See ya," he responded and I left and bumped into Doug on the way out.
"Is Tom awake?" He asked, holding a box of juice.
"Yeah, he's in there." I pointed at the room behind me.
Doug followed my direction and disappeared into the room, and I kept walking down the hallway until I made it out of the hospital.
The next day, I went to work and Doug had gotten there even earlier than I did. When I asked what was up, he said that he wanted everything perfect for Tom's return, but he didn't go into much more detail than that.
I took my leather jacket off and put it on the back of my chair, so I straightened out my black t-shirt that has the band The Runaways printed in white across the chest. It's still freezing outside but the heater in the chapel has been kicking it into high gear recently. I tucked my foot up onto my chair and I cuffed the bottom of my jeans because the fabric was so long it was nearly touching the floor. These jeans were a little big for me, so I wore a black belt with them.
Suddenly, Doug jumped and zoomed out of the chapel. I looked around to see if anyone else noticed his fidgety behavior, but when I thought about it I realized that Doug is always sort of restless. Then Doug came back and he was suddenly following behind Tom, guiding him to his desk.
"Hey look, I made everything perfect for you. First day back," Doug said as he slowly walked with Tom to his desk. It was completely free from clutter, it had a little bouquet of daisies in an empty Pepsi soda can, a stapler, a desk lamp, and a wad of paper and pencils.
Tom was wearing loose brown sweatpants with patterned suspenders over a gray crew neck sweater. He wore a white shirt under the sweater that was stuck out at the neck and the bottom. A pillow was shoved into his pants to make sitting easier, and he walked like he soiled himself.
"Watch, watch, watch," Doug repeated as Tom slowly and stiffly shuffled to his desk.
"Looks great, thank you," Tom said. His maroon baseball cap shadowed over his face.
"Daisies." Doug showed him the flowers that he potted in the soda can.
"Nice." Tom grabbed the can and moved it away from the edge.
"You want anything to eat?" Doug asked, "I'll go to falafel place, or Diggity Dog. You want Diggity Dog?"
"No, you know what, I'm still full from the chili you made last night. Thank you." Tom patted Doug's arm.
I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but it was hard not to when they're speaking so loud and so close to me. Why was Doug trying to be Tom's bitch? He wasn't this attentive to me when I got shot twice. I'm not jealous, but I'm just confused.
"Coffee?"
"Nothing, thank you."
"I'll take a tea," I said and raised my hand. "If you're offering."
Doug turned to me and asked sassily, "is your name Tom?"
I shook my head and glumly put my hand down.
"Then I wasn't talking to you—" he turned back to Tom, "—the chili didn't keep you up last night, did it?"
"Doug." Tom turned to face him. "It was good, I'm fine. Why don't you get back to work, okay? I'm just gonna settle in here, nice and slow."
"Okay," Doug said.
"Okay."
"Okay," Doug said and turned to walk away.
"All right." Tom started to ease into his chair.
Doug immediately turned back to Tom and said, "I'm really sorry about what happened. I mean, I mean, I cannot believe that I blew a hole in your ass."
My jaw dropped. It made so much sense now. "You shot the bullet into his ass?"
"On accident!" Doug defended.
Tom was staring straight ahead to concentrate enough to slowly sit down. He looked at Doug and said, "forget it," as he eased into his chair.
"How can I forget it, I mean..."
Tom winced as he finally got all the weight onto the chair. Doug's train of thought left his brain as he watched Tom struggle.
"What I did to you—" Doug said.
"It was a mistake," Tom interrupted him.
"Well you don't have to be so cool about it. I mean, if there was anything that you needed, anything. You know I had them move the desks closer together so you wouldn't strain your voice if you were calling for me."
"That's good. And don't tell anyone else. She already knows." Tom pointed to me. "That's too many people."
"Okay," I sighed.
"Hey Tom, you know, if I could kiss it and make it feel better, I mean." He made a funny hand gesture. "I would, you gotta believe me."
He held up two fingers, scouts honor.
"I'll let you know, 'kay?" Tom said.
"Okay."
"'Kay."
"I'm with ya all the way, man."
"All right."
Doug stood up straight and announced to the entire chapel, "this's my friend right there, Tom Hanson."
We didn't really know what to do, but people began a light clapping. Tom waved to everyone and smiled with a little head nod. I think he was embarrassed.
"You shot your own partner?" I asked him again.
"Yes," Doug said in a melancholy way.
"That was a very stupid thing to do," I said flatly.
"I know."
"You know what you should get? Is one of those pillows with the hole in the middle." Tom looked at me and I finished, "you know? For the hole in your ass. What are those called?"
"Donut pillow," Doug answered quickly.
"It concerns me that you know what they're called," Tom said.
"Yeah, I uh, already had one... but I'm getting you a new one, don't worry," Doug assured.
"I'm still gonna worry," Tom said.
"You already had one?" I asked.
"Yeah... I even got the cream... and—yeah," Doug's voice trailed off.
"Maybe there's some things you should just keep to yourself," Tom snapped.
I chuckled softly and got back to work. My typewriter clicked with every button I pushed, and I kept finding myself stealing glances with Tom from our desks. To be fair, he was looking at me whenever I was looking at him. I would smile at him, he would smile back, and I'd return my gaze back to my paper. I'm going to miss my partner, I hope he gets better soon.
I loved this scene in the show, it's so funny! Please vote and comment! 😁
Next chapter will be a cute one, I promise!