Case 1 - "Scott"
I was torn, between my need to spend time with Kris and finding out more about the Demon. Scott didn't look like he was waking up any time soon though, so I put my game face on and headed up to be with Kris.
As I let go of his hand and left the room, the blonde on the bed mumbled "Don't go."
But my focus had shifted to Kris, so it didn't get through the fog of despair that had closed around me again. It was getting harder to put on a brave face for him. I was in mourning for the man who had been such an important part of my life for a decade and was about to leave me. I had painted his portrait when we first met. The night I took him home he posed for me. Nude. He was adventurous, had a cheeky smile and was a tiger in bed. It took me a year before I told him my secret. He was all in, just like that.
He became my Daytime Servant, my assistant with the everyday running of my business. The smiling face that people saw when they came in for consults and the liaison between me and the Police who were on duty during daylight hours. He also touched base with my other employees and passed on information I deemed pertinent to whomever required it. I'd even helped out Homeland Security anonymously. I laughed to myself when I thought about that though. I was pretty sure there was a division in that Agency that was devoted to the unusual. X-Files? Well I'm sure there were people keeping records of the things that went on when no one was watching. They might even have a file on me somewhere... Can't concern myself about that right now though.
We'd been in some interesting situations. Although the last few years had been relatively uneventful supernaturally speaking, before that he'd had to bail me out on a few occasions. The most memorable one was a Dominatrix's dungeon, there was a morgue van and a Motorcycle Clubhouse a few years before that too. Don't ask. I'll share those fuckups when I'm good and ready.
He had a thing for opera, so I'd done some training and used to sing for him. He couldn't carry a tune poor dear. Loved show tunes too, most recently Wicked and Rent. I could Elphaba with the best of them, but I digress.
I took a deep breath and listened to see if he was awake. No, still asleep. I went in and sat down. His face was strained and I checked his meds line. It was doing what it was programmed to do. So we must be at the point where the pain was more than the meds could abate. My poor love. I reached up and stroked his forehead, pushing back the hair that fell across his hot, dry forehead. Holding his hand, I begged him to wake up.
"Kris, Luv. Can you hear me?"
"Hmmmmm?"
"Do you want me to get the nurse to turn up your meds?"
"Yes please Hun." He replied slowly. I pushed the call button.
When the nurse came and I explained the situation, she called the Doctor for permission. He gave it. That was the indicator to me that Kris was on the final sprint to the end. Reading between the lines of the medical jargon, Kris was fading. This might be our last night. Kris clutched my hand and smiled again. It was brilliant, reminiscent of the cheeky yet blinding smile that had stolen my heart all those years ago.
"Promise me something Mitch." Oh no, he never used my real name.
"Anything."
"Don't mourn me for too long Love."
Tears began to roll down my cheeks. "I can't promise that."
"Promise me. In this day and age, you need to find someone you can trust. Sooner rather than later my Love."
I bent my head over his hand and tried to be strong. Inside I was breaking. Every time I shattered, the pieces got smaller. Each time was as hard as the last whether they were taken from me quickly or gradually like now. It seemed like it got harder each time to mend all those tiny shards and think about someone new.
"Promise.....me....."
"I promise Kris." I looked up at his face and saw the smile before his last breath left his body. I wanted to howl, to rage, to break every stick of furniture in the room. I could do it too. Instead I shrieked inside my mind and felt myself start to fall apart again. The Doctor and Kris's nurse came back into the room at the sounds from the machine monitoring his heartbeat and check for signs of life. I could have told them not to bother. He was gone.
The Doctor put his hand on my shoulder and said, "I'm sorry son. We'll leave you alone for a moment."
They left and I was alone with my misery.
.............................
Scott's POV
I was awake, and yet I wasn't. I could hear someone crying and yet there was no one else in my room. Don't ask me how I knew that, I just did. I could tell I was in a hospital, there were the usual hospital smells, beeps from machines and the bustle of medical staff performing their duties around me. I knew I was hooked up to machines and that my injuries must be severe for me to still be under. Thing was I felt fine. In fact I felt fabulous. I didn't feel any pain, I was flying when I was aware. I couldn't seem to open my eyes though. There was something holding me back.
When I dreamed, all I could remember was that man... no, not a man. Something else.
My Oma said that my family was touched. I hope that didn't mean I was going crazy. The only thing that seemed to pull me to the surface was a voice. It was melodic and interesting. There was something about that voice that made me want to open my eyes and see who was speaking. Sometimes it was just a sound, other times I could hear words. They didn't always make sense, but I picked out a particular word that I knew I liked. 'Blondie', I liked it. I don't think I'd ever had a pet name before and I wanted to see who was calling me that.
"No don't go, please."
I wanted to say it out loud. Did I speak or not? He left.
A tear slowly trickled down my cheek. Why didn't you stay with me? Why did I want him to? It's not like I knew the owner of that voice. He just made me want to talk, so I could hear his reply. I want to get up out of this bed and look in the mirror. Do I look the same or is my face a mess? I remembered the bullet striking my head, the force of the impact numbing my face and then the second shot that felt like I'd been kicked in the chest by a horse. It made me stagger and then I fell. How could he have done that to me? Robert, why did you shoot me?
I think it was that thing. That not a man. His eyes. I didn't want to see them ever again in my life. They felt like they were sucking my soul out of my body. I'm a pretty decent guy, I mean I don't have too many bad habits. I definitely don't skirt the line as closely as my partner. Robert, he's pretty much a man you don't mess with. I've met a few like him in my time with the Department. He was bad, but he was lately starting to smell sooty. I mean that smell like your soul's been barbequed.
Maybe Oma's right maybe I do have a bit of an edge. I seem to pick up things a bit faster than other people. It's made me a bit quicker than others when it comes to putting two and two together. Sometimes things just click. My last partner requested early retirement because he felt I was showing him up. Robert had seemed cool early on, but I quickly figured out he was either dirty or making something on the side away from the department. His income didn't fit his expenditure. I was pretty sure he was on something too. Maybe speed? Maybe cocaine? Lately he seemed off. Then there was the whole shooting me thing. Why? He hadn't been aiming at me in the beginning. Then that man... thing looked at him and it was as if he was gone and standing where he had been standing was an empty shell. Then he had raised his weapon and shot me.
Something wasn't right. Why wasn't I waking up? Brain damage? I didn't appear to be thinking strangely. Maybe I was speaking gobbledygook and only I could understand it. Times like these I wish I had someone looking after me. Someone who could be there and reassure me it was going to be OK. I hope I'm going to be OK.
Where's that voice gone? When I felt his touch on my skin, it was kind of cold. It wasn't unpleasant, just unusual. I wonder why, is it just me? Come back... please...
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Zass's POV
When the nurse returned, she had someone else with her. Grief counsellor? Nope paperwork guy. I saw the folder of forms and thought this is why people hate administrators. Kris isn't even cold yet and already they want their pound of flesh. I took a deep breath and turned to face them.
"Mr......?"
"Call me Zass."
"We have you as the next of kin. You need to fill in some paperwork and tell us what you wish us to do with your... with Mr Kent's um... Mr Kent."
"You need to leave."
"But Mr... but Zass...."
"Leave the paperwork and go."
The nurse had initially rolled her eyes at the Administrator's awful attempts at giving me the paperwork, but by the end she looked mortified. She dragged him out of the room and then walked him down the corridor gesticulating at him. I could still hear them and what she was saying wasn't complimentary. She basically told him to get some sensitivity training. I would have smiled if not for the situation I found myself in. Kris and I had already discussed his plans for his funeral. His family is long gone so it will be just close friends I'll inform and invite to attend. I fill in the forms and leave them on the table pushed against the wall.
I can't leave.
In my grief, I have failed to realize the sun has made an appearance.
I'm not affected by the sun as much as new Vampires are. I don't stop still and look like I'm dead as soon as the sun makes it over the horizon. However seeing it made me grateful I was in a building that had tint on the windows. Where could I go? I couldn't stay in Kris's room. Shit.
I went down the stairs towards Scott's room and opened the doors. All clear. I ducked into his room and sat beside his bed. Thankfully I'd noticed the dust line and realized that his room curtains weren't opened. If I sat in his chair with my back to the window and my hood up I might survive the day. He didn't get many visitors and the nurses pretty much left him alone apart from changing the drip. It would be extremely uncomfortable, but I could rouse myself long enough to mumble to the nurse if necessary. Getting caught out in daylight isn't fun. Getting caught out when you're sleeping is even worse.
Since my last near actual death experience, I'd spent some time training with one of Misha's assets in keeping one eye open so to speak when I was asleep. So if need be I could rouse myself long enough to adjust the subject trying to wake me's thinking. They'd just be checking on a cute guy. They wouldn't know any different. It was fucking hard though. But beggars couldn't be choosers and it was my mistake to face the consequences for.
I settled in the chair next to him, adjusted my hoodie and made sure my hands were covered inside the long sleeves of my coat. I didn't want anything getting exposed. I remembered whose room I was sharing and greeted the silent figure in the bed next to me.
"Hey Blondie. How's it hangin'?
I didn't expect an answer and none was forthcoming. Hope this works. I focused on the entry to Scott's room and closed all but a slit of one eye. No one came into the room for a couple of hours. When Scott's I.V. got low, finally a nurse came in to check on him. She noticed me, smiled and hung a new bag then left. A romantic soul? Who knew, anyway I kept that sliver open and faded out again. Another two hours and another visit from the same nurse. No problems. Cool.
Next time it was another nurse. I picked up a different scent and made sure to shift slightly in the chair for her benefit when she changed his bag. I saw a stern frown on her face, but she left me alone, even though it was mid-day and I was still acting like I was asleep. Visits from her lasted another 3 bags until yet another shift change. When the sun went down again, I stood and moved around a bit to get things moving again. I was starting to feel hungry. Scott smelled enticing and there were other blood rich scents in the hospital, so I needed to visit the bio storage room for a withdrawal.
When I got back after my snack, I said hello to my host again and touched his arm lightly. Bang, there it was again. A visual of the Demon, and another man. The partner? He was wearing the same uniform. Oh no, he was the one shooting his partner. He hadn't tried anything with Scott laid out at the hospital so I hoped he was stewing in a cell waiting charges. I'm never right about those things though so I shrugged and sat down again.
............................
There's that cold touch and that word again. Who are you?
'Wh.........................o?"
............................
Did he just speak?