by Laura Acton
The guys talked sports and general topics for a long time. Dan only listened. He enjoyed the bit of normalcy hanging out with them. Well, as normal as he could get spending time in a hospital. Dan glanced up at the large clock in the room and found it was nearly four forty-five.
Dan only wished it was easier to breathe. It took a lot of effort to move air in and out and wore him out. He blinked his eyes several times trying to keep them open. His lids became too weighty, and he let them remain closed as he listened to the conversation.
Jon put his finger to his lips. “Shhh, he’s sleeping again.”
Bram grinned as he stood. “He needs it.”
Loki chuckled quietly. “With all the bruising gone he really does look like Sleeping Beauty now.”
Dan opened his eyes and pinned them on Loki.
Ray laughed. “Oh man, Loki, he heard you. I think if looks could kill you’d be toast right now.”
Dan reached for his pen and paper and scribbled down something. He gave Loki a lopsided grin as he turned the paper around. Sleeping Beast, better watch out, I bite.
The room roared with laughter as Dr. Markson entered the room. He glared at everyone, peeved they were laughing so much when he found his patient coughing. “Everyone out! I said not to make him laugh!”
The laughter died instantly at the doctor’s harsh words, and they all scrutinized Dan.
Dan scribbled as his coughing ceased and showed it to the team. I’m okay.
Calmingly himself down, Dr. Markson said in a reasonable tone, “I’m sorry I yelled. I don’t want his lungs exerted at this time. They are still delicate. I need to examine Dan. I won’t be long. You can wait in the hall.”
Relieved Dan wrote okay, the guys got up and headed out the door.
Dr. Markson moved forward as the room cleared and checked the output report from the medication pump. “I’m glad to see you’re using the pain meds. Is the dosage sufficient to cover your pain?”
Dan answered honestly nodding yes and wrote, manageable.
The doctor did a complete exam including probing Dan’s ribs gently, checking the chest incision, and listening to Dan’s lungs and heart. Using the pulse oximeter, he checked Dan’s O2 level and noted no improvement, but no deterioration either since the last check. So he left the supplemental oxygen flow rate at six liters per minute. If Dan deteriorated, he would need to return to the mask and increase the rate.
When he finished, Dr. Markson said, “Your incision is healing well and your ribs, too. How’s your right arm feel?”
Dan wrote, aches a bit.
“And your left wrist?”
Same, aches if I write too much, Dan penned.
Bill nodded, “Should be fine to talk a little bit now, but take it slow and talk sparingly. A little coughing is actually good for your lungs, but not coughing like yesterday. According to Jim Shea, you know your limits, so I’m asking you to stay within them to speed your recovery.”
Dan set the pen and paper aside, glad to quit writing. Jon wouldn’t tease him about his misspelled words anymore.
“Based on your most recent scans and what I heard, I’ll be sending in a pulmonologist tomorrow. You have some real work ahead of you. Going to be painful and exhausting work. If you keep up on the meds, your recovery will go easier. If the pain becomes unmanageable and you need either a boost or dosage upped I expect you to tell the nurses. Understood?”
He nodded. Why do I need a lung doctor? I know it isn’t good, but is it that bad?
“After we get the pulmonologist’s report we’ll put together a plan to determine when you can get out of here. Depends on how rapidly we can wean you from the oxygen. Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Markson concluded.
Only one thing mattered to Dan at the moment, the source of his agitation when the guys discussed work. His one fear. Would this prevent him from returning to work? One word at a time between breaths he got out, “Will ... my … lungs … heal? … Can … I … go … back … to … work?” He focused on the doctor hoping he would give him the answer he wanted.
Dr. Markson faced him squarely and replied, “Truthfully, you’re damned lucky to be alive after the trauma your body experienced. You don’t need to be thinking about work right now. Although, I’m inclined to tell someone in your condition to prepare to have to change careers. I don’t know if your lungs will ever recover enough to maintain the stamina you need for your job. I’m sorry I can’t offer you assurances or the words you want to hear. I’ll help you as best I can, but the reality is difficult to change. Your scans show significant damage. Only time will tell.”
Dan was floored. He knew it was bad. He just didn’t think it was this bad. Dan grabbed the pen and paper from the table and hastily wrote then showed it to the doctor.
“Are you sure?” Dr. Markson asked.
Dan nodded emphatically yes.
Seeing his patient’s face pale, Bill asked, “Are you okay?”
With no emotion, in shock, and on autopilot to cover his real feelings, Dan replied, “Fine.”
Regretful he was so blunt with the young officer, Dr. Markson turned and hurried from the room closing the door behind him.
St. Michael’s Hospital – Outside Room 1030 – 5:00 p.m.
Dr. Markson addressed the group, “Dan has requested no visitors. You will honor his wishes.”
Stunned faces stared at the doctor.
“Why the hell doesn’t he want visitors?” Jon shouted.
“Lower your voice, there are other patients. I had some bitter news for him to take,” and he told them what he said to Dan. “I’m sure he needs some time alone to come to terms with the prognosis.”
The guys were dumbstruck to hear the blunt diagnosis and more than a little worried Dan wanted to be alone.
Scanning the faces wanting to reassure them, Bill stated, “Just give him time alone. It’s an unpleasant reality he has to accept, but he said he’s fine.”
Jon, Bram, and Nick picked up the word.
Nick asked, “Is fine your word or did Dan actually say he was fine?” He waited, nervous to know the answer.
Loki and Ray were confused by Boss’ question, but if he asked the answer must be important.
“Dan said fine ...”
The doctor didn’t finish before Jon stormed into Dan’s room closely followed by Nick, Bram, and a confused Loki and Ray.
St. Michael’s Hospital – Room 1030 – 5:00 p.m.
Dan pressed the button on his med pump again. He rolled to his side and curled into a tight ball. His arms wrapped around his knees holding them to his chest. This position hurt like hell, but Dan didn’t care anymore.
Hot tears rolled out of Dan’s eyes. He scarcely found a new place to belong. Hoped to do more than only survive. Wanted to see where things would go with Lexa. She wouldn’t want a scarred invalid.
Why does bad shit always happen to me? Why does everything I love, get taken away? Am I such a bad person that I deserved this? I killed so many. I killed Brody. I blew him away. Maybe I deserve to be punished like this.
If I can’t do my job, I’m nothing, useless, worthless.
The words he blocked out for years found their way out of his locked box. Taunting words of his torturers reverberated in his head, failure, animal, pitiful, unloved, alone, forgotten, worthless.
One word stuck and relentlessly resounded in his head in the mocking voice of one man … the one who broke him—repeatedly. The one who gazed at him with pity and pretended to care, but who was pure evil and delighted in torturing him with red hot needles.
Knowing that didn’t remove the power of his word … worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless, worthless …
Dan couldn’t live with being worthless. He retreated inside his head, blotting out the world entirely to silence the words.
Don’t Leave the Kid Alone!
38
August 3
St. Michael’s Hospital – Room 1030 – 5:02 p.m.
Jon bellowed, “Broderick, you’re going to be okay! And you will move to good! That is an order! Do you hear me?” His voice reverberated in the room and spilled out into the hallway.
St. Michael’s Hospital – Outside Room 1030 – 5:02 p.m.
Dr. Markson stood taken aback for several moments by their action and just started to move as Lexa ran past him into the room. What are they doing? Bill would make sure his patient got the privacy he demanded. Aren’t we supposed to allow Dan control? Why are they ignoring what Dan requested?
He stopped in his tracks at Mr. Hardy’s loud outburst. Good Lord, the man could bellow. What the heck did he mean? Bill moved forward again only a few steps outside the room.
Lexa approached Dan’s room when she spotted the rest of the team race inside. She ran at full speed down the hallway wondering what happened. Lexa pushed by a stunned Dr. Markson and into the room passing Ray. Lexa came to a dead stop next to Loki as she saw Dan curled up on the bed.
St. Michael’s Hospital – Room 1030 – 5:03 p.m.
Ray stopped barely inside the door as Lexa ran past him. Startled by Jon’s yell as he looked at Dan. Ray instantly pivoted back to the door. He noticed the doctor about to enter and gently but decisively pushed the doctor from the room as he said, “Dr. Markson, Dan needs his team now.”
He barred anyone else from entering the room when closed and locked the door. Ray refused to allow anyone else see Dan in this vulnerable state. His protectiveness for his teammate was in high gear.
Bad enough the team witnessed this. Ray didn’t think Dan would appreciate anyone else seeing him like this. He steeled himself, turned back toward Dan, and moved to stand next to Lexa.
Dan was curled in a fetal position on the bed. He wore an utterly desolate expression as tears streamed down his face. Dan emitted no sounds. He didn’t react to Jon’s words though the entire hospital probably heard them.
The six of them looked at each other trying to decide what they could do. Dan clearly needed help, but no one knew how to help him.
Lexa abruptly turned her head away unable to bear the hopelessness reflected in his eyes. A reaction she would later question, but for now, the look in his eyes was too painful for her to bear. Her arms crossed defensively over her chest as if she was protecting her heart. She clamped her jaw shut as stood rigidly trying to control her emotions.
Nick tried to reach him calmly saying, “Dan, Dan, can you look at me?” Nick received no response from Dan.
Loki’s shaky voice called out, “Hey, buddy, it’s going to be okay. Talk to us.” Again, no response. Loki took a few tentative steps toward Dan, but Ray stopped Loki from getting too close.
Ray shook his head at Loki with his best friend glared at him for stopping him. “Don’t crowd, remember what Patch told us.”
Loki nodded and turned back to Dan wishing he could go forward. Dan looked so exposed and lost. Loki desperately wanted to help.
Bram moved forward, afraid to touch him, not wanting to spook an ex-soldier after Patch’s warning last night. He squatted down, lowering his face level with Dan’s trying to make eye contact, but his eyes were unfocused and unseeing even though they were open. Bram whispered, “Dan, what do you need?”
Dan made no response—not even a blink.
After watching for a few minutes, knowing they were out of their depth with this, Jon strode to the far corner of the room. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
Afghanistan – Tarmac – August 4, 1:40 a.m. (August 3, 5:10 p.m. Toronto)
Blaze and his men prepared to head out on a mission. His phone ringing dragged him from his mental review of the mission plans. His phone still on because he needed one last bit of intel from Sutton. He took a moment to dig it out of his pocket after dropping his pack to the ground next to him. It rung four times before he answered, “Blaze.”
Jon’s hard-edged voice urgently said, “Blaze, how do we get through to Dan?”
“What?” Blaze replied confused both because he was expecting Sutton’s voice and at Jon’s odd question. But he noted the urgency in Jon’s tone.
“We need your help. Dan’s F.I.N.E. How do we reach him?”
“Shit! What the hell happened?” Blaze asked as his tension ratcheted up. Something terrible happened if Blondie is fine and Jon is calling for help.
“The doctor told Dan his lungs won’t heal enough to return to work. Dan requested no visitors and said he was fine. We pushed into his room and found him curled in a tight ball with his arms locked around his knees. His eyes are open but unfocused. He is unresponsive, almost catatonic,” Jon explained.
“Aw shit! Blondie, no. Not this, not again. Don’t do it, kid!” Blaze choked up with emotion. He realized he needed to help, so Blaze pulled himself together, cleared his throat. “You need to stay with him. Do not under any circumstances leave him alone. I repeat, do not leave him alone for even a second. This happened only once before. Brody sat with him for three weeks. Don’t leave the kid alone, please.”
Jon didn’t like the thoughts which sparked in his head by Blaze’s words and tone. His mind went to the ivory-gripped pistol he took from Dan’s bedside table in May. He and Nick discussed his gut feeling, and both agreed Dan might be suicidal and removing the gun the right thing to do. Could Blaze be implying that Dan actually tried to kill himself before? Jon angrily interrupted, “Blaze, are you saying what I think you are saying?”
“Yes,” Blaze said flatly without hesitation.
“Dammit, Dan!” Jon raged in disbelief. “Would he really?”
The team stared at Jon now. Would he what?
Blaze responded with raw tightly held emotion “The day Brody found him like that, he sat with him for several hours waiting for us to return. All the while Blondie never moved with his eyes wide open. Worried about him, but not realizing the severity of his state, Brody decided to come find us. Luckily, we were right outside. We almost lost Blondie because he was alone for less than two fucking minutes. Thank God Brody was fast enough to save him.”
As emotion raced through him, Blaze took several ragged breaths in and blew them out harshly. “In the few seconds Brody left him alone, Blondie found my reserve gun I kept hidden in my bunk. Didn’t think the kid knew about my gun.
“When Brody and I walked back into the room Blondie sat on the floor by my bunk with the gun pressed directly to his heart, the safety off, and his finger on the damned trigger. Brody dove at him and knocked the gun away.
“The bullet went into the wall. I don’t know if the gun fired because Brody tackled him or if Blondie intended to follow through. Either way, the fact he had the gun to his chest. Blondie doesn’t need a gun, too many other ways … you have to watch him.”
Blaze pounded his fist on the wall. Dammit, he should be with Blondie. But he was half-way around the fucking world when Blondie needed him. He failed the kid—again!
Apprehension in the room was increasing exponentially as the team watched Jon’s body tense and his eyes narrow to slits as his brows drew together concentrating hard on what Blaze said. What the hell was Blaze telling him?
Rage boiled up at all the unfairness and crap life had thrown at Blondie, and that he couldn’t help. Blaze’s voice changed to anger. “Goddammit! I can’t be there. We are heading out on a mission now, waiting for the pilot. Never leave him even if you think it is an entirely secure environment. Leaving him alone was Brody’s only mistake—we nearly lost him. Remember, Blondie’s Special Forces trained and resourceful. He knows too damned many ways to kill and die which only take seconds.”
Jon’s mind raced through everything he learned about Dan searching for anything which might help. “Can Patch help?”
“Patch does physical wounds, this freaks him out. He doesn’t handle this well. Scares the shit out of him. Patch is too emotional to be of help when Blondie is like this. Remember his panic in the ravine?” Blaze respo
nded.
Jon didn’t remember, he wasn’t focused on Patch at the ravine. “What did Brody do? What worked then? What brought him back?” Jon asked, desperate for guidance on how to proceed.
The line went silent as those memories came forth and hit Blaze like a ton of bricks. He hated the memories—to this day they ripped his guts out. Shit, this wouldn’t be easy for them. Blaze hoped at least one of them was strong enough to do what needed to be done.
Blaze never understood how Brody managed. Blaze needed to leave the room. Everyone except Brody left the barracks unable to listen without emotion. What Brody did brought Blondie back from the edge.
“Before I tell you, I need to know how bad things are physically. What did the doctor say regarding his chances of full recovery? If a slight possibility exists, then what Brody did might work. If not, I’m at a total loss on how to proceed,” Blaze said, aching for a tiny sliver of hope.
“The doctor said the scans showed significant damage and he should prepare for a change in career. He told him only time would tell and he didn’t know if they would ever recover enough,” Jon said and wondered why that would make a difference.
A flicker of optimism laced Blaze’s words. “Based on that, you have a small hook to try and drag Blondie back with. I’m not sure what path he will take, the kid has had a world of hurt to deal with lately. But if he goes the route as before, it will be excruciatingly hard to do what Brody did.
“I couldn’t bear to listen and had to leave. If anyone on your team can do it, I think it will be you. I don’t think the others can handle the details. Their emotions show too plainly on their faces.” Blaze inhaled a deep breath through his nose and exhaled through his mouth on a four-count trying to steady himself as he leaned up against the wall. He had little time to explain—the pilot would be here any moment.
“What do I need to do?” Jon caught the hope in Blaze’s voice but dreaded what his words implied. What the hell did Brody do that Blaze couldn’t handle? The man was as solid as they come.
