"Code Blue" (Out of the Dark, 2005)
May. 2nd, 2009 11:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
riptide_asylumTitle: Code Blue
Rating: R, for hard situations
Summary: Time marches on, and neither of the boys are getting any younger. The hard times of the past have taken a toll on both their bodies, but when the chips are down, they have each other--and the amazing Bozinsky siblings to get them through.
Cody slid the plastic pass-key into the lock and pushed the hotel room door wide. With a satisfied smile, he gestured for Nick to enter. Nick returned the smile a little sleepily. His promotion to major had come with a couple nice perks, including an off-base pass one night a week during training. One night a week that he spent in a luxury suite with Cody, holed up next to the ocean, thoughts of Fort Bragg as far away as King Harbor. His partner brought the boat up each week without complaint, returning to Redondo the next day. There was probably a more efficient way of doing things, but Nick knew Cody loved having an excuse to see that much water.
They'd missed their night last week so Cody could do a job for Murray: a little light background check on a junior associate at Roboztics Ltd that had turned into a little more when Cody discovered the guy was a mole for one of Roboztics' competitors. Nick had listened in on the stakeout on his phone, keeping Cody company through the long hours of the night.
He'd nearly lost it when he heard the guy spot Cody and pull a gun. Nick hated getting shot at, but he hated Cody getting shot at more. Especially when he wasn't around to protect him.
The intervening week had been torture.
Cody closed the door behind them and pulled Nick hard back against him, biting gently at his earlobe before letting go with a smug grin. Nick stood there, nonplussed, while Cody hung up his jacket and slipped out of his shoes. "Well," Nick said, "at least you took me to dinner first."
Cody spread his arms wide. "I always know how to treat a guy right, Nick. I'm a nice guy. Suave. Sophisticated. Charming."
"And here I was thinking you were just trying to get into my pants." Nick pushed Cody up against the wall and took his time with a smoldering kiss. The two of them nuzzled each other gently. Nick pulled back. "You feeling any better?"
At dinner, Cody had gotten dizzy after his first Scotch, but blamed it on skipping lunch.
"I'll feel a hell of a lot better once you're out of those clothes, buddy."
Nick gave him a questioning glance.
"I'm fine, Nick," Cody said. "Long week."
Nick bit gently at his partner's bottom lip. "Too long," he answered, unbuttoning Cody's shirt. "And too many clothes. You don't need all these, with what I'm planning."
Cody raised a grey eyebrow. "Now who's trying to get into whose pants?"
Nick kissed him again, harder. "Me. I'm getting in your pants, man. There's no try about it."
Cody chuckled, the wrinkles around his blue eyes deep with happiness. "You got it. Just let me use the john first."
Nick rolled his eyes. "Thank you for that, Cody. Very romantic."
"Fuck you," Cody answered mildly. "Is that enough romance for you?" He shut the door.
"Hey, I'll take what I can get." Nick kicked his shoes off and hung his jacket over the back of the room's only chair. They'd stashed some beer in the room earlier and he grabbed one now from the room's fridge, then turned on the tv, searching for sports. He soon wished he hadn't: the Cubs had dropped a doubleheader against Milwaukee.
Nick stretched out on the bed and drank his beer, considering the thankless lot that was the life of the Cubs fan. The highlight reel only made it worse. He heard a flush, and then the door opened.
"Hey, did the Padres play today?" Cody called from the bathroom. Nick heard him run water in the sink.
"Lemme check." The ticker scrolled idly along the bottom of the screen as Nick nursed his beer. Cinncinnati over Houston, 5-4; San Francisco over Atlanta, 3-2; Pittsburgh over San Diego, 9-0. Hah. The faucet turned off.
"Cody," Nick called, "not only did the Padres lose today, but they lost nine-nothing. To Pittsburgh. So in answer to your question, I think it's safe to say no, the Padres didn't play today."
There was a muffled thump from the bathroom.
"Oh come on," Nick continued. "You have to admit, San Diego should be able to take care of Pittsburgh. My mother could have beaten Pittsburgh this year."
Silence.
"Cody, don't sulk. It's just not their year, man" he called towards the bathroom. He muttered: "Just like the Cubs, every year."
There was a loud bang from the bathroom, and the sound of glass shattering.
"Cody!" Nick was off the bed in a heartbeat.
Cody was slumped against the side of the bathtub, on the floor. His face was contorted with agony, and his skin was grey, covered in a light sheen of sweat.
"Oh God, Cody, what happened?" Nick knelt next to his partner and felt for a pulse at his throat. It was weak and thready, and for a few seconds he imagined there was nothing there at all. Jesus no. "No no no no no!"
Nick leapt for Cody's coat, hanging just outside the door, and fished out his cellphone, dialing before it was all the way open. He knelt back down, ignoring the shards of broken water glass. "Baby, come on," he pleaded, cradling Cody's head in his lap. "Breathe with me."
He spoke briefly into the phone; knowing he sounded half-crazed, he still managed to get the message across: I think my friend's having a heart attack. Please hurry. Please. Please.
Cody gasped for air, the cords of his throat taut under the skin. His fingers scrabbled on the linoleum, one hand clenching and opening spastically.
"Cody, please. Breathe for me. Help's coming, you just gotta keep breathing. Come on."
Cody stopped breathing.
With a roar, Nick ripped open Cody's shirt, tearing what buttons he hadn't undone earlier, a whole lifetime ago. Nick swept the glass aside, heedless of the shards that caught in his fingers. Then, laying Cody on the bathroom floor, he started CPR, going through the steps numbly. Cody fought, struggling to breathe as Nick measured two careful finger-lengths down from his breastbone. The chill of Cody's skin was frightening. He began pumping the air back in, pushing glass deeper into his own hands.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.
Rest.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Rest.
With each compression, images floated through Nick's head. One. The two of them huddled together in the jungle darkness, crying in each other's arms as shells exploded all around them. Two. Laughing on the deck of the Riptide, drinking beer and making fun of Cody's sunhat. Three, four. Fucking hard and rough in the hold of the Mimi, slick with sweat and engine grease. Five. Sitting stiff and red-eyed at Mama Jo's funeral, surrounded by hundreds of her friends. Six, seven.
Rest.
He leaned down over Cody and began to blow the air back into his lungs. He focused on keeping the air flow strong and steady. With a start, Cody pushed at him, one hand knotting in Nick's shirt and Nick felt his own pulse slow as he watched Cody's chest rise and fall of its own accord.
Cody clutched at him, eyes imploring, mouth working as he struggled to speak.
Nick's face was wet with tears. "No baby, don't speak. It's gonna be okay. Sssh. Cody, it's gonna be okay." Nick lay down on the floor next to him, pillowing his partner's head on his arm, face gentle against the curve of Cody's jaw, listening to him breathe, sweet and even. After a few seconds, Nick felt Cody's fingers twitch against his chest, fluttering, seeking comfort. There were no words for the relief and Nick kissed the fingertips as they lay against him.
He almost hated to get up to let the paramedics in.
What Nick hated more, however, was that at the hospital, Cody was briskly wheeled into the ER, but the swinging doors were slammed in his face.
Family-only, no exceptions.
He peered through the scratched plastic windows and saw Cody taken into one of the trauma bays, followed by a stream of medical professionals. Then they pulled the curtains and he could see nothing more.
The whole way over in the ambulance, lights and siren wailing, Cody had clung to Nick's hand--the one that wasn't being de-glassed by a paramedic young enough to be his daughter. She kept asking Nick if he wanted anything for the pain, but he didn't seem to be able to respond. Cody's eyes never left him. They'd wrapped Cody in a blanket, strapped on an oxygen mask and an IV and drove hellbent for leather down the highway to Kaiser North. Nick held on to that gaze with everything he had, and eventually the paramedic put his gauze-wrapped hand on his knee, and patted it softly.
But now it was like he'd hit a brick wall.
Nick was pulled away from the ER doors by an orderly, who directed him down the hall to the ER registration desk with a kindly pat on the back. The lobby there was nearly empty at that time of night, just a handful of people lounging in chairs, waiting with more patience than Nick guessed he'd ever possessed in his life. And way more than he had right now.
Sitting didn't help. Pacing didn't help. Harassing the clerk didn't help. Finally, Nick gave up, scrambling for a backup plan. If you couldn't get your guy out by himself, you went for the big guns. Pulling out his cellphone, Nick left Murray a message and hoped he hadn't left for Santa Barbara already. If he was still in town--hell, even if he wasn't--Nick knew he'd call as soon as he could, and they'd think things through from there. What else were geniuses for?
After an agonizing half hour spent chewing the inside of his cheek and checking his phone still worked, Nick was waved over to a semi-private booth off the main room, where a humorless older man in an old-fashioned plaid shirt began questioning him. About Cody.
Name. Date of birth. Social Security number, current medications, allergies. For Nick, this was all second nature; he'd taken Cody through so many ERs he could have answered in his sleep. But the thing was, over the past 10 years he'd grown used to not taking him. He'd grown so used to Cody being safe.
"Look," Nick said, leaning forward to speak into the wire mesh barrier between them, "When can I see him?"
"Who?"
"Cody. Cody Allen, the patient. I need to see him. Right now."
The man consulted the terminal in front of him. "What's your relationship to the patient?"
Nick thought about it. "Friend," he answered.
The man shook his head. Nick could see dark half-moons of sweat outlined clearly against the pink and green plaid shirt. "No," he said. "Family-only. ICU rules."
"No. No, I'm his family. I'm all he's got. I've gotta see him." Nick put his hands up against the barrier.
"You said you were his friend. Which are you? Friend or blood relative? Are you a blood relative of the patient?"
Nick stared coldly. "No."
"Then you're not getting in to see him until he's out of ICU. No exceptions."
Nick felt his bile rise. Only an hour ago, he'd been kneeling on broken glass to blow life back into the lungs of the best friend he'd ever had. The guy who'd come for him, time and time again when no one else gave a shit. The guy he'd loved with for too many years now to count. That was more than friendship and different than blood, but it mattered. It mattered a whole hell of a lot to the both of them.
"Now, wait a minute," he began, "that guy in there, he's my best friend, okay? And that might not be a category on your checklist, but it's everything on mine. I need to see him. Now."
"I'm sorry, sir, no can do. ICU is family-only."
Nick rose. His fists were clenched, nails digging hard into his palms, and the gauze on his cut hand felt damp. "You don't get it do you? Where is he? I've gotta find him. I've gotta be with him. He needs me."
The man behind the counter stared at Nick, blinking.
"Please," Nick said softly.
Behind the counter, the plaid shirt guy's hand moved slowly, slipping beneath the tabletop. Nick dropped his head. Fuck.
In the end, it took three security guards to restrain him, and it was only when they had him facedown on a carpet tasting of cigarette butts and mold that Nick realized brute force might not be the answer. Despite that, Nick fought, hard. He had to get to Cody. And if he could just flip over, get some leverage, maybe he could--
"Nick! Nick, I came as quick as I could!"
Nick let himself go limp at the sound of Murray's voice. He relented, feeling all kinds of aches and twinges, listening to Murray reason with hospital bureaucracy.
Despite their protestations, the security guards shoved the two of them out the lobby doors into the bleak, starlit parking lot.
"Nick, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry." Murray put his hand on Nick's shoulder but it barely registered. He shoved it off to stalk angrily out into the night, breathing deeply. He couldn't remember the last time anything had hurt this badly. Cody.
Nick's own chest throbbed. He needed Cody. Needed to touch him, needed to feel him breathe, needed to--Nick raked a hand through his hair and focused on calming down. He could feel panic spiralling through him at the thought of Cody lying in a hospital bed, wondering where he was.
He clamped down on the panic, listening to Murray's attempts to soothe him. The little guy'd likely done more good than he had just by arriving at the hospital. And more than that, Murray was family. Nick turned back. "Boz, I'm sorry," he started. "It's just..."
Murray waved his apologies aside and pulled out his BozBerry, typing furiously. "We'll think of something, Nick. Maybe we can get into the hospital mainframe, change who qualifies--we'll figure it out, Nick. I've got it all under control..."
Nick left him to his devices and walked slowly across the darkened asphalt, the tangerine security lights blurred by tears. Finally he dropped heavily onto a curb.
He had no ideas, no plan for this. They'd faced down the Viet Cong, drug dealers, stalkers, the Mob, abusive boyfriends, jealous husbands--both of them spat out in one piece on the other side. But here, Nick had finally slammed up against the immovable object of the modern age: bureaucracy.
He sank down on the curb and rested his head in his hands, rocking gently back and forth. Think, dammit. But Nick's mind was a blur of pain and longing, his thoughts dominated by the sight of Cody lying on the bathroom floor, fighting to breathe. Reaching for him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the images down and away.
"Hey."
The voice came from Nick's left, but when he tried to track it to its source, all he could see was the orange cherry glow of a lit cigarette. A lighter outline of dark against a giant manzanita bush, leaves rippling softly in the night breeze. He squinted into the darkness. "Who's there?"
"Hey, um, I saw you earlier, when I first got here? For work? You were with that heart attack guy they brought into the ER."
"Cody. Cody Allen. Yeah, I was with him." Nick squinted.
The voice stepped out of the shadows and resolved into a slight figure in nursing scrubs, puffing furiously at her cigarette. As she walked towards him, a nearby parking light illuminated her features. Maybe mid-twenties, roughcut blond hair tucked behind her ears, and a pinched expression around her eyes and mouth that he suspected would become permanent in another five years.
"Look," she said, "My name's Heather, I work up in the ICU, I'm just out here because of these things." She gestured with the cigarette.
He rose. "Nick Ryder. Pleased to meet you."
She ignored his proffered hand. "Look," Heather said, "I shouldn't be doing this, but you seem like a really nice guy, and whoever that other guy is, it seems like you care about him an awful lot."
Nick could only nod.
"Is he your partner? You know..."
"My partner and my best friend." Nick's voice was ragged with pain.
Heather's eyes softened a fraction. "So I'll tell you what. Two hundred bucks and I'll meet you downstairs in the lobby at 1:30, okay? I'll get you up there and past the guard station and Frau Blucher, the night manager. And you can go in and see your partner, okay?"
He nodded at her, unable to speak. 1:30 was three whole hours away. He thought about whether going in with a gun would be easier, and then realized that jail would put him a lot farther from Cody than he was now.
He started to thank Heather but she cut him off with a shake of her head.
"A girl's gotta eat," she said simply.
---
They took the elevator to the third floor without speaking.
Heather led him through the shadows to a doorway outside the registration desk, then held a finger to her lips. She waited until the night manager disappeared into the back room carrying a sheaf of paper, then grabbed Nick's hand and pulled him along behind her down the hallway. Her small, cold fingers dug into the cuts under his bandages.
She stopped outside a room fronted by a pneumatic sliding door. "I'm on this floor tonight, so if you need anything, I'll try to check on you every two hours. But we're full up, so don't hold your breath." Nick started to thank her again, but she was gone with a quiet squeak of orthopedic shoes. He went inside.
Cody lay propped up in bed, surrounded by tubes and machines. The bed was huge, and Cody seemed tiny in it, childlike. When Nick got closer, however, he saw the familiar silver hair, the lines around his lover's eyes, skin tan and weathered from a lifetime spent in the sun. He looks like an old man, Nick thought. He shivered in the darkness.
In his mind, Cody was always 21, running away from college and a girl he'd never be good enough for, into a war that was more than he'd bargained for. Running into Nick's arms. It broke Nick in ways he hadn't thought possible to realize how old they'd both gotten. The war was yesterday, it was always yesterday, but somehow the years had managed to slip by and leave them both weathered and beaten.
But still here.
Cody's eyes were closed, but Nick was elated to see his chest rhythmically rise and fall. He stood there for a minute and just watched, overwhelmed, the slow and steady breaths captivating him, making him acutely aware of his own. Finally, Nick made it across the room and collapsed in a chair next to the bed. Nick had no idea how bad it was--in the past three hours the tight-lipped nurses had made it clear he wouldn't get fact one from them or anyone else at the hospital--but it looked bad to him. Real bad.
Reaching for the hand that lay motionless on top of the covers, Nick held it gently between his own, mindful of the IV taped in place just above the knuckles.
"Cody," Nick whispered. He gently lifted his friend's hand to his lips, kissing the palm tenderly. "Oh God, man. Cody." He held Cody's fingers against his cheek, remembering all the times his partner had reached for him. Those fingers gently drawing patterns on his skin. Smoothing away his pain and worry. Hanging onto him. Tears ran down Nick's face. He wasn't ready to let go of Cody, didn't think he'd ever be ready. He just always thought there'd be more time.
Nick didn't know when he'd started crying, and had no idea when he'd be able to stop. "Cody, a long time ago, you told me you'd fight for us. Now I'm holding you to that, man." He fought back a sob, cradling Cody's hand in both of his own. "You can't fucking leave me. Now's the time, man. You've gotta fight. For me. For us."
Cody didn't stir.
The machines around his bed continued their steady rhythm, pumping and whirring.
Fight for me, baby. I can't lose you. I'm not ready for this.
Nick didn't realize he'd been asleep until he felt Heather's hand on his shoulder. Her touch was feather-light and he woke from the dark places without a fight.
"It's time to go," she told him sadly. "If the floor supervisor catches you here, I'm out of a job." She patted his shoulder. Nick thanked her with a nod, then she disappeared as quietly as she had the night before.
A gray and cold California morning was struggling to pass through the industrial metal blinds, the light swallowed whole by mint green walls and tiles. Standing up, Nick felt the familiar twinge in his neck from another long night in an uncomfortable chair. He picked his way gingerly through the jungle of machinery to the bed, leaning down to kiss Cody's forehead. "Love you, babe," he whispered against his skin. "So fucking much."
As the elevator doors closed, Nick's last sight of the floor was Heather, throwing a faded denim jacket on over her scrubs. She winked.
---
"How is he?"
Murray and Nick huddled in one corner of the basement cafeteria over hot brown water that could, with a lot of charity and a vicious head cold, be called coffee.
Nick shrugged.
The fatigue he felt wasn't from the night spent in the chair at Cody's side. Hell, he'd slept in places that made upright in a chair feel like a suite at the Ritz. What was wearing him down was the struggle to get past the problems at hand: namely how to get back to Cody, find out how bad of a mess they were in. Also, he hadn't realized how hard the security guards had tackled him; his bad shoulder throbbed, and he felt bruised where they'd knelt on him. Last night, he hadn't given fighting them a second thought, but now he felt every day of his fifty-three years. None of which helped Cody.
And that was the thing that hurt most of all.
Scrubbing a hand over his unshaven jaw, Nick watched as Murray opened a tiny laptop he'd pulled out of his bag. "Nick, I did some thinking last night, and I might have come up with a plan to get around the HIPAA requirements. I'm not sure how Cody would feel about it--"
"Assume he'd be fine with it, Murray. What's the damn plan?"
Murray made an attempt to hide his hurt expression and Nick tasted guilt. He put his hand over his friend's. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm really...I'm kind of losing it, Boz, but I shouldn't take that out on you. I'm sorry."
Murray looked at him kindly. "No, don't worry about it. I can't imagine what you're going through, not being able to get to him. I can't imagine what I'd do if I was in your shoes and someone told me--about Charlene--I'd...well, I'd probably snap at quite a few people too."
Nick smiled his thanks. "Whatcha got for me?"
Murray entered some commands on his laptop. "Well, the plan has two parts, an easy part and a hard part. The easy part, I've just done, which would be ha---" He coughed and lowered his voice. "Would be gaining access to the hospital's record systems, which I've just done." He shook his head and giggled. "You'd think, all the personal information this baby holds, they'd do something a little more complicated than one simple firewall, but noooo. Who do they think that's going to keep out? Sixth graders, maybe."
"Murray." Nick focused on keeping his voice as gentle as he could.
"Oh right, yeah, sorry. Just got a little sidetracked thinking maybe these guys could use some help getting their security a little more twenty-first century. I mean, the medical records themselves, they're not even in here, so everyone's running round with all these bundles of paper. I could really show them how to--" He looked at Nick's expression. "Yes, you're right, that can all wait. Anyway, when anyone looks at Cody's record in the system now, they'll be able to find his closest relative. I couldn't make it either of us, Nick, because of the..."
Nick looked at him. The bigass tantrum I threw yesterday?
"...because we tried so hard to get in to see him yesterday, I think someone would put two and two together if we showed up again this morning and suddenly claimed we forgot we were his brothers in the heat of the moment. You know there's one other option, Nick." Murray took a deep breath and pushed his glasses up his nose. "You know Cody has a sister, Van--"
"Don't! Don't even say that bitch's name!"
The cafeteria fell silent, and Nick put his face in his hands. I'm doing just great at this. He took a deep breath of his own, willing his voice steady. "Boz, you know she hates both Cody and me. She'd either refuse to come out here or worse, come out and make things a whole helluva lot more difficult."
Murray nodded. "I'm aware that Cody's relationship with his sister is--well, it's..." Murray tilted his head one way and then the other, his animated features seeking an appropriate expression.
"It's a fucking bloodbath is what it is, Boz."
"True, true. But I had an idea. See, last night I went in and checked, and the hospital didn't have a record of Cody's next of kin. So I added a sister for him. Only not Vanessa."
Nick blinked.
"Well, I'm not unaware of how she feels about the two of you. You know, it continues to shock me that in this modern day and age--"
"Murray--"
"--people still find it so hard to accept the many different forms families can take. I mean, take for instance Charlene's aunts, Lisa and Anna. Lovely women. And yet to think that--"
"Murray?" Nick laid the gentlest of hands on his friend's arm.
"Oh. Sorry, Nick. It's just I tend to get a little carried away about that topic. Here." Murray typed quickly, his slender fingers flying over the tiny keyboard. "Anyway, my thought was that if we could just find someone--a female someone--willing to--" Murray lowered his voice, looking around the cafeteria suspiciously. "--temporarily adopt the persona of Cody's sister, we could at least get that person up onto the ICU to find out what's happening. To keep an eye on things, maybe make copies of the medical records."
"Murray, you're a genuis," Nick said, thumping him excitedly on the back. "Maybe she can make them let us be there when Cody wakes up." If he wakes up, his brain amended. Nick violently shoved the thought away. "Who's the lucky lady?"
Murray took a deep breath. "Well, that's the problem. See, you guys don't know anybody around here who would fit the bill, someone who'd be willing to, well, to commit fraud, really. The federal government takes a very dim view of HIPAA violations. The penalties, well, they're kind of frightening, really. So we're going to have to keep it in the family, so to speak." He broke off for a second, then giggled. "D'you see what I did there? 'In the family'? Even in the midst of tragedy, the ol' Bozinsky wit keeps cranking them out." He pumped the air with his fist. "Gosh. The human brain really is wonderful, isn't it?"
Nick forced down a few mouthfuls of coffee and counted to ten.
Murray caught Nick's expression and instantly sobered. "Well, the most obvious choice is Baba, because she's better at games and--and disguises and things. So I emailed her last night right after you called, but she's in Prague right now for a conference, and the earliest she can get back, even with a direct flight, is tomorrow night, late. She says she'll do it, just say the word, but I think we both want in much earlier than that. So I've asked Charlene."
"And she's on board with this?"
Murray looked sad. "Well, not at first she wasn't. She claimed it was another one of our 'crazy juvenile schemes', and she was pretty reluctant to take time away from the lab. You know, it's a really, really big honor for her to be the assistant lab director at such a young age, did I mention that?"
Nick drank more coffee and counted to ten again, this time in Italian. "Will she do it?"
"She did finally sort of agree to it. She's going to try to get away from work and be here at ten. She said she makes no promises."
Sort of agree to it? "She say anything else?"
Murray swallowed hard, his attention suddenly refocused on the laptop. "Yeah, she said she'd definitely be bringing this up with our marriage counselor."
---
By noon, Nick had decided two things. One, that he might have to strangle Charlene the next time he saw her. Not just for this--well, mainly for this--but also for putting Murray in such a shitty position. Maybe it was best if the two of them just split up for good this time if her precious fucking lab was so much more important than helping them when they needed it more than ever before.
And two, he was ready to hire a hooker.
He figured, given the unusual nature of his request--Hey, would you mind coming to the ICU with me and pretending to be my partner's sister so I can get in to see him? No no, you can keep your clothes on, really--he'd offer double, maybe triple her fee. Given the stories he'd heard from other guys, this would be one of the less weird things a hooker'd been asked to do.
By two o'clock, sitting was agony.
Nick had tried every weapon in his arsenal. He'd threatened, he'd wheedled, he'd pleaded but the net result was still him and Murray in the industrial felt chair in the lobby of the ICU, 500 feet and a million miles away from Cody. Every time Nick sat down he was assailed by visions of what Cody must be going through, alone in that mess of tubes and wires and--
Nick thumped his head against the wall next to the elevator. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Cody fighting for breath again, eyes wide with terror. There must be something. Something more than he was doing right now.
Opening his own eyes, Nick realized he'd dug his fingers into the sharp divide between the elevator mooring and the pink stucco wall. He focused on the sharp bite of metal against his fingertips, zeroing in on it, using it, pushing away everything he figured wouldn't help him get in to see Cody. To hold him and figure out how to make him get better so they could blow this pop-stand.
Nick could hear Murray having a hushed and frustrated conversation on his cellphone around the corner. He blocked out the forms of the words, tracing a line of cracks in the worn linoleum at his feet instead.
Murray came around the corner and clicked his cellphone closed. He looked at the floor. "That was Charlene," he said slowly. "She hasn't left the lab yet. She said something came up...Nick, I tried to explain to her--I really did, you've gotta believe me. She just--"
Nick looked around, frustrated. Maybe they were mistaken. There had to be a better way. Maybe if he was just nicer, more...fake, like Cody would be.
Nick paced in front of the nurse's desk, earning another glare from the day shift. As he watched, the young woman manning Reception sighed and picked up the phone. "Please. Please...I'm just--my friend--my partner, he's here and he's really sick, and you guys won't let me see him. It's making me a little crazy. Come on, you look like a nice girl. Five minutes? Just...two minutes? Please."
The young woman looked up at him, phone resting on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear about your friend. Really I am. But we have our orders. I just can't--"
"Is this him?"
Nick turned to find himself facing a much older nurse, one armed with a battle-axe look and bifocals. He made a mute appeal, but her expression didn't change. Nick sighed. Knowing when he was outmanned, Nick held his hands up in defeat and trudged over to sink into a chair round the corner from the elevator bank.
He watched the hands of the clock and tried not to grind his teeth. Waiting for Charlene seemed like the only option left.
At 4:30, Nick stood up and walked over to Murray, who'd spent the last hour biting his nails to the quick. Nick put a hand on Murray's shoulder. "It's okay, Boz. She's not coming. No," he held up a hand to silence his friend's protests. "she's not coming. Really. It's--it's okay, Boz. Really."
The two of them stood in silence for a few seconds. "I think we need a new plan," Nick said sadly.
"Ooh, there's a plan? I love plans! Where do we start? Does it have disguises? Please tell me it's a plan with disguises!"
The two of them turned towards the source of the familiar voice.
Dr Melba Bozinsky, very lately of Prague, stood in the hallway of the hospital in all her radiant, improbable glory. Nick could have kissed her. Murray did him one better, grabbing both his sister's hands and jumping up and down and squealing. The other occupants of the waiting room stared.
"Baba!"
She struck a pose. "In the flesh!"
Murray's mouth dropped open. "But how? You were in Prague, we looked at the flights! It simply isn't possible."
"Sure it is, Scooter. See I have this friend, Bob, oh you guys would love him--"
"Oh," said Nick with a wry grin, "Bob."
Melba punched his arm. Hard. "Yes, Bob, and only the other day when we were in Malta, Bob happened to mention--"
Malta. Prague. Nick smirked. Bob. He looked back at Murray, hanging on his sister's every word.
"--that if I ever needed use of his Lear jet, I had only to say the word. So," she said, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of her purse, "I said the word."
Murray caught her hand as she went to light up. "Baba! There's no smoking in here! Besides, I thought you'd given them up."
"They're my emergency supply," she answered, reluctantly stashing cigarette and lighter back in her chic clutch. "And from your voicemail, it sounds like we have an emergency. Now how can I help?"
They drew her into a huddle and related the plan. When the three of them broke apart, Melba put a hand on Nick's arm. "I've got this covered, tiger. We'll get our info in no time at all. And then," she squared her shoulders and drew herself up to her full nearly six-foot height, shaking her copper-brown hair out to its full circumference, "we'll get Cody out of this joint. What a depressing place to have a heart attack."
Several jaws dropped open around them at her pronouncement.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," Melba continued, "I need to go speak to someone about my brother. Ooh! Scooter, what's my name this time?"
"Oh! Maria. Maria Boyle."
Nick and Melba looked at each other, then Murray. "Maria Boyle?" they both asked.
Murray spread his hands wide. "I was pressed for time. What? Just tell them it's your married name."
"Married name? But I don't have a ring! Quickly, somebody give me a ring."
Murray pulled off his wedding band with little difficulty and gave it to his sister. She slid it on and held her hand out at a distance, admiringly. "Ooh, shiny," she whispered. She tilted her hand back and forth admiringly. "A little plain, though. I would have gone with something a little bigger. Maybe with a nice little rock in a princess setting--"
"Forget the ring!" The Bozinskys continued as though he hadn't spoken and Nick wanted to scream.
"--but that would probably interfere with your work, Scooter. Okay." Melba squared her shoulders. "Hold my purse," she told Nick, shoving her clutch roughly into his stomach. He caught it just in time to watch Melba storm towards the registration desk like a ship under full sail. "Excuse me! Excuse me! Who's in charge here? I need to see my brother immediately!"
Nick held his breath. This has to work, he pleaded silently.
The battleaxe looked Melba up and down over her bifocals.. "What is the patient's name, please?"
"Allen, Cody Allen. I'm his sister...Maria Boyle."
The nurse crossed to the terminal and hit a few keys, peering intently at the screen. "Maria...Boyle?"
"Close enough. What's important is that I'm Cody Allen's sister. I demand to speak with his physician at once!"
The nurse stared at her. Then she picked up the phone. "Dr Dell? Cody Allen's sister has arrived." She listened for a few seconds. "Very good, doctor." Putting down the phone, she addressed Melba. "Mrs. Boyle, I'm so sorry this happened to your family. Please accept my most sincere condolences. Dr. Dell will update you on your brother's condition in Conference Room B." She got up from behind the desk. "If you'll follow me, please. And if you don't mind my saying so, that's a lovely wedding band you have."
Melba favored her with a megawatt grin, holding her hand out for closer inspection. "Isn't it? It's a recent thing."
"Ooh, really?"
"Yes, very recent, in fact."
The nurse clucked. "You're a newlywed? Oh you poor thing, to have this happen to your brother so soon after your happy day..."
Murray put a hand on Nick's shoulder as they watched the two of them head down the hallway and turn in at an unmarked door, the nurse clucking solicitously at the wonderfully duplicitous Melba Bozinsky-Boyle all the way.
---
Nick fought back tears of relief. He felt the tension in his shoulders unwind one small click. Melba was sitting next to him, her arm around him, playing with his hair.
"Nick, as heart attacks go, Cody's was really very mild."
The three of them were back in the basement cafeteria. Melba had charmed a hapless young intern into procuring three cups of real, honest-to-goodness coffee for them, which sat, steaming and untouched, on the table.
"Nick, he's gonna be fine, I promise. They had him all drugged up last night so his heart could get some rest."
Nick took a shuddering breath and coughed, getting his tears under control. He looked at Melba.
"Really. I looked at the file. He had the best possible heart attack a person could have."
Nick smiled, wiping at his eyes with one thumb. "Trust Cody to be an overachiever with heart attacks. Man, he's going to be impossible to live with."
Melba continued. "And the results of the angioplasty from this morning look good. He doesn't even have much plaque buildup in his arteries."
Nick looked at her skeptically.
"I've seen the films. I let a resident look down my shirt and he gave me access to everything."
Nick cracked up while Murray made an outraged squawk.
"Nick, he's fine," Melba continued. "Dr. Dell said he's tough, tough as nails, and if he stays quiet and keeps out of trouble, they're going to let him go home day after tomorrow."
Nick looked from one Bozinsky to the other. He didn't know who to hug first. "Can I see him?" he asked Melba.
Her face fell. "Well, not yet. They're being a real pain in the rear about this whole family-only nonsense. But if you like, I'll put in a good word for you with Dr. Dell when we go out for dinner tonight."
Nick stared at her. "You're....going out to dinner with Dr. Dell tonight. Of course you are."
He looked at Murray, who grinned excitedly. Murray always had such high hopes for Melba's social life.
"And if that doesn't work, I have this great plan for sneaking him out of the hospital and getting him back on the boat. All we need is a spiral-bound notebook, an avocado and a grappling hook."
Nick put a hand on Melba's shoulder. "Maybe we should just let him rest, okay? Now that we know he's okay."
She looked at him. "You're sure? I mean, I haven't tried the thing with the avocado yet, but based on my calculations--"
He and Murray spoke in unison. "Baba..."
If this hospital was the best place for Cody right now, Nick couldn't argue. Of course, that didn't mean he'd like it. Or stay away.
"Fine. Your choice. But don't say I never offered." Melba stood up. Nick and Murray walked with her to the entrance of the cafeteria, clustered in a tight knot in the hallway outside.
She kissed Nick's cheek. "Stay out of trouble, handsome. And tell Cory to call me."
He grinned and pulled her in for a crushing hug. "Thanks, Melba. I owe you one."
"One? What's this one nonsense? I got a running tally on the ones you two owe me." She hugged him, tight. "Really, Nick," she whispered, "It's gonna take a lot more than a mild cardiac event to keep Cody Allen down for long. But you take care of him, okay? Don't let go. Not for a second." She kissed his other cheek before stepping back and refluffing her hair. "Right. Now I'm off to take my nieces out of school and corrupt them with a real education. I'll talk to you both later."
The two of them watched her walk away, heels clipping along the corridor as she went. An old man lying on a gurney nearly fell off it as he turned to watch her pass.
Murray cracked up. "Isn't she a card? Oh, Baba." He giggled. "'Take my nieces out of school.' Not like she'd really take my daughters out of--you know, Nick, she really is--"
"Murray, she just impersonated Cody's sister and pulled a copy of his angiowhatever by seducing an underage doctor."
Murray looked at Nick.
Nick nodded. "If you hurry, you can probably catch her before she gets to the parking garage."
Murray's face fell, and he sprinted for the door. "Baba....."
---
By eleven o'clock that night, Nick had drunk more coffee than the entire time he'd been in the armed forces. First he nursed an unending cup in the cafeteria, then he wandered the halls with the stuff, then he went back to the cafeteria. At that point, he figured most of the day staff had gone home.
Nick skulked from one doorway to the next, an eye out for blunt-cut blond hair and attitude in scrubs. By eleven-thirty there was still no sign of Heather, so he decided to chance it. He waited until the desk nurse had gone for coffee of her own, then crept silently down the hall to Cody's room and slid inside.
There was no change from the previous night.
Cody lay silent and motionless in his nest of machines. Picking his way gingerly past the tubes and wires, Nick made it to Cody's side and slid a hand along his jaw. Nick kissed his forehead. "I love you so much, baby," he whispered. "So much."
He got no response, but kissed Cody's forehead again anyway.
Looking around the room, Nick prepared to settle in for the long haul. He pulled his chair from the previous night closer to the bed, and gently took Cody's hand.
The pneumatic door opened behind him and Nick stopped breathing.
The desk nurse stood silhouetted in the doorway for a second, then slowly approached the bed with a frown on her face. Nick's heart sank. He recognized that expression from his days at Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrows.
The nurse looked at him over her glasses. Her expression softened. She walked around the other side of the bed and adjusted Cody's pillows, taking his pulse, listening to his chest, all business. Nick stared.
As he watched, she made some notes on her clipboard, listened to Cody's pulse some more and then turned to leave. She stopped in front of Nick. The two of them stared at each other. One corner of her mouth turned up, then she walked out.
Only when the door swooshed shut behind her did Nick start breathing again. He couldn't believe his luck. Sitting there next to Cody, even amongst all the machines and antiseptic hospital walls, Nick felt at peace. He rubbed the back of Cody's hand, staring at the lined and weathered skin. He held the hand to his face, rubbing it against his jaw, happy just to watch Cody breathe, happy just to have made it back to Cody's side.
He had the best possible heart attack a person could have.
Which was still too much heart attack. Nick sighed, staring at his partner, lying there asleep. He couldn't imagine life without Cody, not for a day, not for a moment. He wouldn't let him go. This was the best place Cody could be so Nick would stay with him as long as he could, talking him through this and every other night. As long as it took.
Scooting his chair closer to the bed, Nick started whispering softly into the darkness, telling Cody everything he'd ever held back, everything he'd ever wanted to get out. He brought up stories from their past, and reminded him of their plans for the future.
He talked just as if Cody was listening, because deep in his heart, Nick knew he was. He could hear him listening inside his own head; it sounded something like Mimi's electronic hum in the headphones. So much a part of the expected background that he rarely gave it a second thought. For the past thirty years, any time either of them were awake, Nick had heard Cody listening, deep inside. As long as that sound continued, Nick would talk. They were in this together.
Finally, the room began to lighten with the first rays of dawn, grey and indistinct. Nick laid his head on the cool cotton sheets. He laid Cody's hand on the bed next to him, still not letting go, still talking in his own way.
Next thing he knew, the nurse was back, this time with two Security guys in tow. A pushover she might be, but one with a heart of molten steel. Nick opened his eyes with a smile. The nurse glared and raised a merciless eyebrow.
When he went to sit up, he felt something on his head. Reaching up, he found Cody's hand, fingers tangled in his hair. Kissing the palm, Nick let himself be escorted from the building one more time.
He'd be back soon, and he'd be taking Cody with him.
---
"Cody," Nick said, settling contentedly around his partner, "I'm giving up Reserves. Because that's the last time I take my eyes off you for two weeks." He laid a kiss gently against the back of Cody's neck, eliciting a noise that sounded suspiciously like a purr. A weak purr, but a purr nonetheless. Nick grinned on Cody's skin.
Cody wriggled slowly in Nick's arms, getting comfortable, while Nick stayed soft and pliant to accommodate his partner's body, offering himself as a pillow, a life raft. Any damn thing Cody wanted, he'd be, now and always.
They'd taken a taxi back to the boat. Even though he'd refused a wheelchair, Cody was too weak to walk far and Nick unwilling to leave his side long enough to drive, let alone rent a car. Cody had clung to him as he unlocked the slip and they'd made their way down the gangplank together, Nick doing most of the walking. He figured that the first person to give him grief about carrying his partner home from the hospital was worth going away for for another 90 days. Cody had laid his head wearily on Nick's shoulder as he unlocked the sliding glass door, and Nick could tell it was a relief when he finally hit the pillows in their stateroom. As slow as Nick'd insisted on going, Cody still wound up breathing entirely too hard for Nick's liking, and he'd ushered him into their cabin and bed, rubbing Cody's back until his breathing returned to normal.
Only then did he think about shutting the door upstairs.
Nick got back up to the door and then down again at record speed, vaulting back down the stairs from the main floor with his heart pounding. Every second now was even more precious than before, and the way Cody's eyes lit up as Nick crawled into bed next to him confirmed his instincts. He didn't plan to let Cody out of his sight ever again.
Nick closed his eyes, breathing Cody in, feeling the heat of him against his body. "Too close, man," he said softly.
Cody mumbled.
Nick leaned closer. "What, baby?"
Cody turned gently in Nick's arms until they were facing each other. "I said I heard you," he said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Nick rubbed Cody's back. "Heard me when?"
"That night, in the hospital. The night before. All of it." Cody took a deep breath, letting his eyes close. His voice was low and indistinct. "They had me so doped up...I couldn't move...but Nick...Nick, I heard you. And I did fight."
Nick tightened his arms around Cody as much as he dared, swallowing tears. "I know you did, baby. I know you did." He put his lips gently against Cody's forehead. "You fought real good." He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of the two of them, together; it pushed away the sick taste of dread he'd been swallowing for the past few days.
Finally, Cody settled easier in Nick's arms, his forehead still warm and sweet against Nick's lips, until a few minutes later his breathing slowed, and with one huge sigh swelling against Nick's chest, he slept.
Nick lay awake, listening. The boat settled gently around them, and the sounds of the busy marina outside filtered in, muted and distant but still familiar. At this point, they'd spent most of their lives living on the water, and Nick knew it soothed Cody. The gentle swell of waves against the hull, the smell of salt air through the open window, he knew all of it healed his partner, kept him going.
And what kept Nick going was Cody.
Nick closed his eyes, the anxiety of the last few days finally receding. Home, with Cody asleep in his arms and a locked door between them and the world, was all Nick could ask for. At last, for a little while, he could relax.
Rating: R, for hard situations
Summary: Time marches on, and neither of the boys are getting any younger. The hard times of the past have taken a toll on both their bodies, but when the chips are down, they have each other--and the amazing Bozinsky siblings to get them through.
Cody slid the plastic pass-key into the lock and pushed the hotel room door wide. With a satisfied smile, he gestured for Nick to enter. Nick returned the smile a little sleepily. His promotion to major had come with a couple nice perks, including an off-base pass one night a week during training. One night a week that he spent in a luxury suite with Cody, holed up next to the ocean, thoughts of Fort Bragg as far away as King Harbor. His partner brought the boat up each week without complaint, returning to Redondo the next day. There was probably a more efficient way of doing things, but Nick knew Cody loved having an excuse to see that much water.
They'd missed their night last week so Cody could do a job for Murray: a little light background check on a junior associate at Roboztics Ltd that had turned into a little more when Cody discovered the guy was a mole for one of Roboztics' competitors. Nick had listened in on the stakeout on his phone, keeping Cody company through the long hours of the night.
He'd nearly lost it when he heard the guy spot Cody and pull a gun. Nick hated getting shot at, but he hated Cody getting shot at more. Especially when he wasn't around to protect him.
The intervening week had been torture.
Cody closed the door behind them and pulled Nick hard back against him, biting gently at his earlobe before letting go with a smug grin. Nick stood there, nonplussed, while Cody hung up his jacket and slipped out of his shoes. "Well," Nick said, "at least you took me to dinner first."
Cody spread his arms wide. "I always know how to treat a guy right, Nick. I'm a nice guy. Suave. Sophisticated. Charming."
"And here I was thinking you were just trying to get into my pants." Nick pushed Cody up against the wall and took his time with a smoldering kiss. The two of them nuzzled each other gently. Nick pulled back. "You feeling any better?"
At dinner, Cody had gotten dizzy after his first Scotch, but blamed it on skipping lunch.
"I'll feel a hell of a lot better once you're out of those clothes, buddy."
Nick gave him a questioning glance.
"I'm fine, Nick," Cody said. "Long week."
Nick bit gently at his partner's bottom lip. "Too long," he answered, unbuttoning Cody's shirt. "And too many clothes. You don't need all these, with what I'm planning."
Cody raised a grey eyebrow. "Now who's trying to get into whose pants?"
Nick kissed him again, harder. "Me. I'm getting in your pants, man. There's no try about it."
Cody chuckled, the wrinkles around his blue eyes deep with happiness. "You got it. Just let me use the john first."
Nick rolled his eyes. "Thank you for that, Cody. Very romantic."
"Fuck you," Cody answered mildly. "Is that enough romance for you?" He shut the door.
"Hey, I'll take what I can get." Nick kicked his shoes off and hung his jacket over the back of the room's only chair. They'd stashed some beer in the room earlier and he grabbed one now from the room's fridge, then turned on the tv, searching for sports. He soon wished he hadn't: the Cubs had dropped a doubleheader against Milwaukee.
Nick stretched out on the bed and drank his beer, considering the thankless lot that was the life of the Cubs fan. The highlight reel only made it worse. He heard a flush, and then the door opened.
"Hey, did the Padres play today?" Cody called from the bathroom. Nick heard him run water in the sink.
"Lemme check." The ticker scrolled idly along the bottom of the screen as Nick nursed his beer. Cinncinnati over Houston, 5-4; San Francisco over Atlanta, 3-2; Pittsburgh over San Diego, 9-0. Hah. The faucet turned off.
"Cody," Nick called, "not only did the Padres lose today, but they lost nine-nothing. To Pittsburgh. So in answer to your question, I think it's safe to say no, the Padres didn't play today."
There was a muffled thump from the bathroom.
"Oh come on," Nick continued. "You have to admit, San Diego should be able to take care of Pittsburgh. My mother could have beaten Pittsburgh this year."
Silence.
"Cody, don't sulk. It's just not their year, man" he called towards the bathroom. He muttered: "Just like the Cubs, every year."
There was a loud bang from the bathroom, and the sound of glass shattering.
"Cody!" Nick was off the bed in a heartbeat.
Cody was slumped against the side of the bathtub, on the floor. His face was contorted with agony, and his skin was grey, covered in a light sheen of sweat.
"Oh God, Cody, what happened?" Nick knelt next to his partner and felt for a pulse at his throat. It was weak and thready, and for a few seconds he imagined there was nothing there at all. Jesus no. "No no no no no!"
Nick leapt for Cody's coat, hanging just outside the door, and fished out his cellphone, dialing before it was all the way open. He knelt back down, ignoring the shards of broken water glass. "Baby, come on," he pleaded, cradling Cody's head in his lap. "Breathe with me."
He spoke briefly into the phone; knowing he sounded half-crazed, he still managed to get the message across: I think my friend's having a heart attack. Please hurry. Please. Please.
Cody gasped for air, the cords of his throat taut under the skin. His fingers scrabbled on the linoleum, one hand clenching and opening spastically.
"Cody, please. Breathe for me. Help's coming, you just gotta keep breathing. Come on."
Cody stopped breathing.
With a roar, Nick ripped open Cody's shirt, tearing what buttons he hadn't undone earlier, a whole lifetime ago. Nick swept the glass aside, heedless of the shards that caught in his fingers. Then, laying Cody on the bathroom floor, he started CPR, going through the steps numbly. Cody fought, struggling to breathe as Nick measured two careful finger-lengths down from his breastbone. The chill of Cody's skin was frightening. He began pumping the air back in, pushing glass deeper into his own hands.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.
Rest.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Rest.
With each compression, images floated through Nick's head. One. The two of them huddled together in the jungle darkness, crying in each other's arms as shells exploded all around them. Two. Laughing on the deck of the Riptide, drinking beer and making fun of Cody's sunhat. Three, four. Fucking hard and rough in the hold of the Mimi, slick with sweat and engine grease. Five. Sitting stiff and red-eyed at Mama Jo's funeral, surrounded by hundreds of her friends. Six, seven.
Rest.
He leaned down over Cody and began to blow the air back into his lungs. He focused on keeping the air flow strong and steady. With a start, Cody pushed at him, one hand knotting in Nick's shirt and Nick felt his own pulse slow as he watched Cody's chest rise and fall of its own accord.
Cody clutched at him, eyes imploring, mouth working as he struggled to speak.
Nick's face was wet with tears. "No baby, don't speak. It's gonna be okay. Sssh. Cody, it's gonna be okay." Nick lay down on the floor next to him, pillowing his partner's head on his arm, face gentle against the curve of Cody's jaw, listening to him breathe, sweet and even. After a few seconds, Nick felt Cody's fingers twitch against his chest, fluttering, seeking comfort. There were no words for the relief and Nick kissed the fingertips as they lay against him.
He almost hated to get up to let the paramedics in.
What Nick hated more, however, was that at the hospital, Cody was briskly wheeled into the ER, but the swinging doors were slammed in his face.
Family-only, no exceptions.
He peered through the scratched plastic windows and saw Cody taken into one of the trauma bays, followed by a stream of medical professionals. Then they pulled the curtains and he could see nothing more.
The whole way over in the ambulance, lights and siren wailing, Cody had clung to Nick's hand--the one that wasn't being de-glassed by a paramedic young enough to be his daughter. She kept asking Nick if he wanted anything for the pain, but he didn't seem to be able to respond. Cody's eyes never left him. They'd wrapped Cody in a blanket, strapped on an oxygen mask and an IV and drove hellbent for leather down the highway to Kaiser North. Nick held on to that gaze with everything he had, and eventually the paramedic put his gauze-wrapped hand on his knee, and patted it softly.
But now it was like he'd hit a brick wall.
Nick was pulled away from the ER doors by an orderly, who directed him down the hall to the ER registration desk with a kindly pat on the back. The lobby there was nearly empty at that time of night, just a handful of people lounging in chairs, waiting with more patience than Nick guessed he'd ever possessed in his life. And way more than he had right now.
Sitting didn't help. Pacing didn't help. Harassing the clerk didn't help. Finally, Nick gave up, scrambling for a backup plan. If you couldn't get your guy out by himself, you went for the big guns. Pulling out his cellphone, Nick left Murray a message and hoped he hadn't left for Santa Barbara already. If he was still in town--hell, even if he wasn't--Nick knew he'd call as soon as he could, and they'd think things through from there. What else were geniuses for?
After an agonizing half hour spent chewing the inside of his cheek and checking his phone still worked, Nick was waved over to a semi-private booth off the main room, where a humorless older man in an old-fashioned plaid shirt began questioning him. About Cody.
Name. Date of birth. Social Security number, current medications, allergies. For Nick, this was all second nature; he'd taken Cody through so many ERs he could have answered in his sleep. But the thing was, over the past 10 years he'd grown used to not taking him. He'd grown so used to Cody being safe.
"Look," Nick said, leaning forward to speak into the wire mesh barrier between them, "When can I see him?"
"Who?"
"Cody. Cody Allen, the patient. I need to see him. Right now."
The man consulted the terminal in front of him. "What's your relationship to the patient?"
Nick thought about it. "Friend," he answered.
The man shook his head. Nick could see dark half-moons of sweat outlined clearly against the pink and green plaid shirt. "No," he said. "Family-only. ICU rules."
"No. No, I'm his family. I'm all he's got. I've gotta see him." Nick put his hands up against the barrier.
"You said you were his friend. Which are you? Friend or blood relative? Are you a blood relative of the patient?"
Nick stared coldly. "No."
"Then you're not getting in to see him until he's out of ICU. No exceptions."
Nick felt his bile rise. Only an hour ago, he'd been kneeling on broken glass to blow life back into the lungs of the best friend he'd ever had. The guy who'd come for him, time and time again when no one else gave a shit. The guy he'd loved with for too many years now to count. That was more than friendship and different than blood, but it mattered. It mattered a whole hell of a lot to the both of them.
"Now, wait a minute," he began, "that guy in there, he's my best friend, okay? And that might not be a category on your checklist, but it's everything on mine. I need to see him. Now."
"I'm sorry, sir, no can do. ICU is family-only."
Nick rose. His fists were clenched, nails digging hard into his palms, and the gauze on his cut hand felt damp. "You don't get it do you? Where is he? I've gotta find him. I've gotta be with him. He needs me."
The man behind the counter stared at Nick, blinking.
"Please," Nick said softly.
Behind the counter, the plaid shirt guy's hand moved slowly, slipping beneath the tabletop. Nick dropped his head. Fuck.
In the end, it took three security guards to restrain him, and it was only when they had him facedown on a carpet tasting of cigarette butts and mold that Nick realized brute force might not be the answer. Despite that, Nick fought, hard. He had to get to Cody. And if he could just flip over, get some leverage, maybe he could--
"Nick! Nick, I came as quick as I could!"
Nick let himself go limp at the sound of Murray's voice. He relented, feeling all kinds of aches and twinges, listening to Murray reason with hospital bureaucracy.
Despite their protestations, the security guards shoved the two of them out the lobby doors into the bleak, starlit parking lot.
"Nick, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry." Murray put his hand on Nick's shoulder but it barely registered. He shoved it off to stalk angrily out into the night, breathing deeply. He couldn't remember the last time anything had hurt this badly. Cody.
Nick's own chest throbbed. He needed Cody. Needed to touch him, needed to feel him breathe, needed to--Nick raked a hand through his hair and focused on calming down. He could feel panic spiralling through him at the thought of Cody lying in a hospital bed, wondering where he was.
He clamped down on the panic, listening to Murray's attempts to soothe him. The little guy'd likely done more good than he had just by arriving at the hospital. And more than that, Murray was family. Nick turned back. "Boz, I'm sorry," he started. "It's just..."
Murray waved his apologies aside and pulled out his BozBerry, typing furiously. "We'll think of something, Nick. Maybe we can get into the hospital mainframe, change who qualifies--we'll figure it out, Nick. I've got it all under control..."
Nick left him to his devices and walked slowly across the darkened asphalt, the tangerine security lights blurred by tears. Finally he dropped heavily onto a curb.
He had no ideas, no plan for this. They'd faced down the Viet Cong, drug dealers, stalkers, the Mob, abusive boyfriends, jealous husbands--both of them spat out in one piece on the other side. But here, Nick had finally slammed up against the immovable object of the modern age: bureaucracy.
He sank down on the curb and rested his head in his hands, rocking gently back and forth. Think, dammit. But Nick's mind was a blur of pain and longing, his thoughts dominated by the sight of Cody lying on the bathroom floor, fighting to breathe. Reaching for him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the images down and away.
"Hey."
The voice came from Nick's left, but when he tried to track it to its source, all he could see was the orange cherry glow of a lit cigarette. A lighter outline of dark against a giant manzanita bush, leaves rippling softly in the night breeze. He squinted into the darkness. "Who's there?"
"Hey, um, I saw you earlier, when I first got here? For work? You were with that heart attack guy they brought into the ER."
"Cody. Cody Allen. Yeah, I was with him." Nick squinted.
The voice stepped out of the shadows and resolved into a slight figure in nursing scrubs, puffing furiously at her cigarette. As she walked towards him, a nearby parking light illuminated her features. Maybe mid-twenties, roughcut blond hair tucked behind her ears, and a pinched expression around her eyes and mouth that he suspected would become permanent in another five years.
"Look," she said, "My name's Heather, I work up in the ICU, I'm just out here because of these things." She gestured with the cigarette.
He rose. "Nick Ryder. Pleased to meet you."
She ignored his proffered hand. "Look," Heather said, "I shouldn't be doing this, but you seem like a really nice guy, and whoever that other guy is, it seems like you care about him an awful lot."
Nick could only nod.
"Is he your partner? You know..."
"My partner and my best friend." Nick's voice was ragged with pain.
Heather's eyes softened a fraction. "So I'll tell you what. Two hundred bucks and I'll meet you downstairs in the lobby at 1:30, okay? I'll get you up there and past the guard station and Frau Blucher, the night manager. And you can go in and see your partner, okay?"
He nodded at her, unable to speak. 1:30 was three whole hours away. He thought about whether going in with a gun would be easier, and then realized that jail would put him a lot farther from Cody than he was now.
He started to thank Heather but she cut him off with a shake of her head.
"A girl's gotta eat," she said simply.
---
They took the elevator to the third floor without speaking.
Heather led him through the shadows to a doorway outside the registration desk, then held a finger to her lips. She waited until the night manager disappeared into the back room carrying a sheaf of paper, then grabbed Nick's hand and pulled him along behind her down the hallway. Her small, cold fingers dug into the cuts under his bandages.
She stopped outside a room fronted by a pneumatic sliding door. "I'm on this floor tonight, so if you need anything, I'll try to check on you every two hours. But we're full up, so don't hold your breath." Nick started to thank her again, but she was gone with a quiet squeak of orthopedic shoes. He went inside.
Cody lay propped up in bed, surrounded by tubes and machines. The bed was huge, and Cody seemed tiny in it, childlike. When Nick got closer, however, he saw the familiar silver hair, the lines around his lover's eyes, skin tan and weathered from a lifetime spent in the sun. He looks like an old man, Nick thought. He shivered in the darkness.
In his mind, Cody was always 21, running away from college and a girl he'd never be good enough for, into a war that was more than he'd bargained for. Running into Nick's arms. It broke Nick in ways he hadn't thought possible to realize how old they'd both gotten. The war was yesterday, it was always yesterday, but somehow the years had managed to slip by and leave them both weathered and beaten.
But still here.
Cody's eyes were closed, but Nick was elated to see his chest rhythmically rise and fall. He stood there for a minute and just watched, overwhelmed, the slow and steady breaths captivating him, making him acutely aware of his own. Finally, Nick made it across the room and collapsed in a chair next to the bed. Nick had no idea how bad it was--in the past three hours the tight-lipped nurses had made it clear he wouldn't get fact one from them or anyone else at the hospital--but it looked bad to him. Real bad.
Reaching for the hand that lay motionless on top of the covers, Nick held it gently between his own, mindful of the IV taped in place just above the knuckles.
"Cody," Nick whispered. He gently lifted his friend's hand to his lips, kissing the palm tenderly. "Oh God, man. Cody." He held Cody's fingers against his cheek, remembering all the times his partner had reached for him. Those fingers gently drawing patterns on his skin. Smoothing away his pain and worry. Hanging onto him. Tears ran down Nick's face. He wasn't ready to let go of Cody, didn't think he'd ever be ready. He just always thought there'd be more time.
Nick didn't know when he'd started crying, and had no idea when he'd be able to stop. "Cody, a long time ago, you told me you'd fight for us. Now I'm holding you to that, man." He fought back a sob, cradling Cody's hand in both of his own. "You can't fucking leave me. Now's the time, man. You've gotta fight. For me. For us."
Cody didn't stir.
The machines around his bed continued their steady rhythm, pumping and whirring.
Fight for me, baby. I can't lose you. I'm not ready for this.
Nick didn't realize he'd been asleep until he felt Heather's hand on his shoulder. Her touch was feather-light and he woke from the dark places without a fight.
"It's time to go," she told him sadly. "If the floor supervisor catches you here, I'm out of a job." She patted his shoulder. Nick thanked her with a nod, then she disappeared as quietly as she had the night before.
A gray and cold California morning was struggling to pass through the industrial metal blinds, the light swallowed whole by mint green walls and tiles. Standing up, Nick felt the familiar twinge in his neck from another long night in an uncomfortable chair. He picked his way gingerly through the jungle of machinery to the bed, leaning down to kiss Cody's forehead. "Love you, babe," he whispered against his skin. "So fucking much."
As the elevator doors closed, Nick's last sight of the floor was Heather, throwing a faded denim jacket on over her scrubs. She winked.
---
"How is he?"
Murray and Nick huddled in one corner of the basement cafeteria over hot brown water that could, with a lot of charity and a vicious head cold, be called coffee.
Nick shrugged.
The fatigue he felt wasn't from the night spent in the chair at Cody's side. Hell, he'd slept in places that made upright in a chair feel like a suite at the Ritz. What was wearing him down was the struggle to get past the problems at hand: namely how to get back to Cody, find out how bad of a mess they were in. Also, he hadn't realized how hard the security guards had tackled him; his bad shoulder throbbed, and he felt bruised where they'd knelt on him. Last night, he hadn't given fighting them a second thought, but now he felt every day of his fifty-three years. None of which helped Cody.
And that was the thing that hurt most of all.
Scrubbing a hand over his unshaven jaw, Nick watched as Murray opened a tiny laptop he'd pulled out of his bag. "Nick, I did some thinking last night, and I might have come up with a plan to get around the HIPAA requirements. I'm not sure how Cody would feel about it--"
"Assume he'd be fine with it, Murray. What's the damn plan?"
Murray made an attempt to hide his hurt expression and Nick tasted guilt. He put his hand over his friend's. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm really...I'm kind of losing it, Boz, but I shouldn't take that out on you. I'm sorry."
Murray looked at him kindly. "No, don't worry about it. I can't imagine what you're going through, not being able to get to him. I can't imagine what I'd do if I was in your shoes and someone told me--about Charlene--I'd...well, I'd probably snap at quite a few people too."
Nick smiled his thanks. "Whatcha got for me?"
Murray entered some commands on his laptop. "Well, the plan has two parts, an easy part and a hard part. The easy part, I've just done, which would be ha---" He coughed and lowered his voice. "Would be gaining access to the hospital's record systems, which I've just done." He shook his head and giggled. "You'd think, all the personal information this baby holds, they'd do something a little more complicated than one simple firewall, but noooo. Who do they think that's going to keep out? Sixth graders, maybe."
"Murray." Nick focused on keeping his voice as gentle as he could.
"Oh right, yeah, sorry. Just got a little sidetracked thinking maybe these guys could use some help getting their security a little more twenty-first century. I mean, the medical records themselves, they're not even in here, so everyone's running round with all these bundles of paper. I could really show them how to--" He looked at Nick's expression. "Yes, you're right, that can all wait. Anyway, when anyone looks at Cody's record in the system now, they'll be able to find his closest relative. I couldn't make it either of us, Nick, because of the..."
Nick looked at him. The bigass tantrum I threw yesterday?
"...because we tried so hard to get in to see him yesterday, I think someone would put two and two together if we showed up again this morning and suddenly claimed we forgot we were his brothers in the heat of the moment. You know there's one other option, Nick." Murray took a deep breath and pushed his glasses up his nose. "You know Cody has a sister, Van--"
"Don't! Don't even say that bitch's name!"
The cafeteria fell silent, and Nick put his face in his hands. I'm doing just great at this. He took a deep breath of his own, willing his voice steady. "Boz, you know she hates both Cody and me. She'd either refuse to come out here or worse, come out and make things a whole helluva lot more difficult."
Murray nodded. "I'm aware that Cody's relationship with his sister is--well, it's..." Murray tilted his head one way and then the other, his animated features seeking an appropriate expression.
"It's a fucking bloodbath is what it is, Boz."
"True, true. But I had an idea. See, last night I went in and checked, and the hospital didn't have a record of Cody's next of kin. So I added a sister for him. Only not Vanessa."
Nick blinked.
"Well, I'm not unaware of how she feels about the two of you. You know, it continues to shock me that in this modern day and age--"
"Murray--"
"--people still find it so hard to accept the many different forms families can take. I mean, take for instance Charlene's aunts, Lisa and Anna. Lovely women. And yet to think that--"
"Murray?" Nick laid the gentlest of hands on his friend's arm.
"Oh. Sorry, Nick. It's just I tend to get a little carried away about that topic. Here." Murray typed quickly, his slender fingers flying over the tiny keyboard. "Anyway, my thought was that if we could just find someone--a female someone--willing to--" Murray lowered his voice, looking around the cafeteria suspiciously. "--temporarily adopt the persona of Cody's sister, we could at least get that person up onto the ICU to find out what's happening. To keep an eye on things, maybe make copies of the medical records."
"Murray, you're a genuis," Nick said, thumping him excitedly on the back. "Maybe she can make them let us be there when Cody wakes up." If he wakes up, his brain amended. Nick violently shoved the thought away. "Who's the lucky lady?"
Murray took a deep breath. "Well, that's the problem. See, you guys don't know anybody around here who would fit the bill, someone who'd be willing to, well, to commit fraud, really. The federal government takes a very dim view of HIPAA violations. The penalties, well, they're kind of frightening, really. So we're going to have to keep it in the family, so to speak." He broke off for a second, then giggled. "D'you see what I did there? 'In the family'? Even in the midst of tragedy, the ol' Bozinsky wit keeps cranking them out." He pumped the air with his fist. "Gosh. The human brain really is wonderful, isn't it?"
Nick forced down a few mouthfuls of coffee and counted to ten.
Murray caught Nick's expression and instantly sobered. "Well, the most obvious choice is Baba, because she's better at games and--and disguises and things. So I emailed her last night right after you called, but she's in Prague right now for a conference, and the earliest she can get back, even with a direct flight, is tomorrow night, late. She says she'll do it, just say the word, but I think we both want in much earlier than that. So I've asked Charlene."
"And she's on board with this?"
Murray looked sad. "Well, not at first she wasn't. She claimed it was another one of our 'crazy juvenile schemes', and she was pretty reluctant to take time away from the lab. You know, it's a really, really big honor for her to be the assistant lab director at such a young age, did I mention that?"
Nick drank more coffee and counted to ten again, this time in Italian. "Will she do it?"
"She did finally sort of agree to it. She's going to try to get away from work and be here at ten. She said she makes no promises."
Sort of agree to it? "She say anything else?"
Murray swallowed hard, his attention suddenly refocused on the laptop. "Yeah, she said she'd definitely be bringing this up with our marriage counselor."
---
By noon, Nick had decided two things. One, that he might have to strangle Charlene the next time he saw her. Not just for this--well, mainly for this--but also for putting Murray in such a shitty position. Maybe it was best if the two of them just split up for good this time if her precious fucking lab was so much more important than helping them when they needed it more than ever before.
And two, he was ready to hire a hooker.
He figured, given the unusual nature of his request--Hey, would you mind coming to the ICU with me and pretending to be my partner's sister so I can get in to see him? No no, you can keep your clothes on, really--he'd offer double, maybe triple her fee. Given the stories he'd heard from other guys, this would be one of the less weird things a hooker'd been asked to do.
By two o'clock, sitting was agony.
Nick had tried every weapon in his arsenal. He'd threatened, he'd wheedled, he'd pleaded but the net result was still him and Murray in the industrial felt chair in the lobby of the ICU, 500 feet and a million miles away from Cody. Every time Nick sat down he was assailed by visions of what Cody must be going through, alone in that mess of tubes and wires and--
Nick thumped his head against the wall next to the elevator. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Cody fighting for breath again, eyes wide with terror. There must be something. Something more than he was doing right now.
Opening his own eyes, Nick realized he'd dug his fingers into the sharp divide between the elevator mooring and the pink stucco wall. He focused on the sharp bite of metal against his fingertips, zeroing in on it, using it, pushing away everything he figured wouldn't help him get in to see Cody. To hold him and figure out how to make him get better so they could blow this pop-stand.
Nick could hear Murray having a hushed and frustrated conversation on his cellphone around the corner. He blocked out the forms of the words, tracing a line of cracks in the worn linoleum at his feet instead.
Murray came around the corner and clicked his cellphone closed. He looked at the floor. "That was Charlene," he said slowly. "She hasn't left the lab yet. She said something came up...Nick, I tried to explain to her--I really did, you've gotta believe me. She just--"
Nick looked around, frustrated. Maybe they were mistaken. There had to be a better way. Maybe if he was just nicer, more...fake, like Cody would be.
Nick paced in front of the nurse's desk, earning another glare from the day shift. As he watched, the young woman manning Reception sighed and picked up the phone. "Please. Please...I'm just--my friend--my partner, he's here and he's really sick, and you guys won't let me see him. It's making me a little crazy. Come on, you look like a nice girl. Five minutes? Just...two minutes? Please."
The young woman looked up at him, phone resting on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear about your friend. Really I am. But we have our orders. I just can't--"
"Is this him?"
Nick turned to find himself facing a much older nurse, one armed with a battle-axe look and bifocals. He made a mute appeal, but her expression didn't change. Nick sighed. Knowing when he was outmanned, Nick held his hands up in defeat and trudged over to sink into a chair round the corner from the elevator bank.
He watched the hands of the clock and tried not to grind his teeth. Waiting for Charlene seemed like the only option left.
At 4:30, Nick stood up and walked over to Murray, who'd spent the last hour biting his nails to the quick. Nick put a hand on Murray's shoulder. "It's okay, Boz. She's not coming. No," he held up a hand to silence his friend's protests. "she's not coming. Really. It's--it's okay, Boz. Really."
The two of them stood in silence for a few seconds. "I think we need a new plan," Nick said sadly.
"Ooh, there's a plan? I love plans! Where do we start? Does it have disguises? Please tell me it's a plan with disguises!"
The two of them turned towards the source of the familiar voice.
Dr Melba Bozinsky, very lately of Prague, stood in the hallway of the hospital in all her radiant, improbable glory. Nick could have kissed her. Murray did him one better, grabbing both his sister's hands and jumping up and down and squealing. The other occupants of the waiting room stared.
"Baba!"
She struck a pose. "In the flesh!"
Murray's mouth dropped open. "But how? You were in Prague, we looked at the flights! It simply isn't possible."
"Sure it is, Scooter. See I have this friend, Bob, oh you guys would love him--"
"Oh," said Nick with a wry grin, "Bob."
Melba punched his arm. Hard. "Yes, Bob, and only the other day when we were in Malta, Bob happened to mention--"
Malta. Prague. Nick smirked. Bob. He looked back at Murray, hanging on his sister's every word.
"--that if I ever needed use of his Lear jet, I had only to say the word. So," she said, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of her purse, "I said the word."
Murray caught her hand as she went to light up. "Baba! There's no smoking in here! Besides, I thought you'd given them up."
"They're my emergency supply," she answered, reluctantly stashing cigarette and lighter back in her chic clutch. "And from your voicemail, it sounds like we have an emergency. Now how can I help?"
They drew her into a huddle and related the plan. When the three of them broke apart, Melba put a hand on Nick's arm. "I've got this covered, tiger. We'll get our info in no time at all. And then," she squared her shoulders and drew herself up to her full nearly six-foot height, shaking her copper-brown hair out to its full circumference, "we'll get Cody out of this joint. What a depressing place to have a heart attack."
Several jaws dropped open around them at her pronouncement.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," Melba continued, "I need to go speak to someone about my brother. Ooh! Scooter, what's my name this time?"
"Oh! Maria. Maria Boyle."
Nick and Melba looked at each other, then Murray. "Maria Boyle?" they both asked.
Murray spread his hands wide. "I was pressed for time. What? Just tell them it's your married name."
"Married name? But I don't have a ring! Quickly, somebody give me a ring."
Murray pulled off his wedding band with little difficulty and gave it to his sister. She slid it on and held her hand out at a distance, admiringly. "Ooh, shiny," she whispered. She tilted her hand back and forth admiringly. "A little plain, though. I would have gone with something a little bigger. Maybe with a nice little rock in a princess setting--"
"Forget the ring!" The Bozinskys continued as though he hadn't spoken and Nick wanted to scream.
"--but that would probably interfere with your work, Scooter. Okay." Melba squared her shoulders. "Hold my purse," she told Nick, shoving her clutch roughly into his stomach. He caught it just in time to watch Melba storm towards the registration desk like a ship under full sail. "Excuse me! Excuse me! Who's in charge here? I need to see my brother immediately!"
Nick held his breath. This has to work, he pleaded silently.
The battleaxe looked Melba up and down over her bifocals.. "What is the patient's name, please?"
"Allen, Cody Allen. I'm his sister...Maria Boyle."
The nurse crossed to the terminal and hit a few keys, peering intently at the screen. "Maria...Boyle?"
"Close enough. What's important is that I'm Cody Allen's sister. I demand to speak with his physician at once!"
The nurse stared at her. Then she picked up the phone. "Dr Dell? Cody Allen's sister has arrived." She listened for a few seconds. "Very good, doctor." Putting down the phone, she addressed Melba. "Mrs. Boyle, I'm so sorry this happened to your family. Please accept my most sincere condolences. Dr. Dell will update you on your brother's condition in Conference Room B." She got up from behind the desk. "If you'll follow me, please. And if you don't mind my saying so, that's a lovely wedding band you have."
Melba favored her with a megawatt grin, holding her hand out for closer inspection. "Isn't it? It's a recent thing."
"Ooh, really?"
"Yes, very recent, in fact."
The nurse clucked. "You're a newlywed? Oh you poor thing, to have this happen to your brother so soon after your happy day..."
Murray put a hand on Nick's shoulder as they watched the two of them head down the hallway and turn in at an unmarked door, the nurse clucking solicitously at the wonderfully duplicitous Melba Bozinsky-Boyle all the way.
---
Nick fought back tears of relief. He felt the tension in his shoulders unwind one small click. Melba was sitting next to him, her arm around him, playing with his hair.
"Nick, as heart attacks go, Cody's was really very mild."
The three of them were back in the basement cafeteria. Melba had charmed a hapless young intern into procuring three cups of real, honest-to-goodness coffee for them, which sat, steaming and untouched, on the table.
"Nick, he's gonna be fine, I promise. They had him all drugged up last night so his heart could get some rest."
Nick took a shuddering breath and coughed, getting his tears under control. He looked at Melba.
"Really. I looked at the file. He had the best possible heart attack a person could have."
Nick smiled, wiping at his eyes with one thumb. "Trust Cody to be an overachiever with heart attacks. Man, he's going to be impossible to live with."
Melba continued. "And the results of the angioplasty from this morning look good. He doesn't even have much plaque buildup in his arteries."
Nick looked at her skeptically.
"I've seen the films. I let a resident look down my shirt and he gave me access to everything."
Nick cracked up while Murray made an outraged squawk.
"Nick, he's fine," Melba continued. "Dr. Dell said he's tough, tough as nails, and if he stays quiet and keeps out of trouble, they're going to let him go home day after tomorrow."
Nick looked from one Bozinsky to the other. He didn't know who to hug first. "Can I see him?" he asked Melba.
Her face fell. "Well, not yet. They're being a real pain in the rear about this whole family-only nonsense. But if you like, I'll put in a good word for you with Dr. Dell when we go out for dinner tonight."
Nick stared at her. "You're....going out to dinner with Dr. Dell tonight. Of course you are."
He looked at Murray, who grinned excitedly. Murray always had such high hopes for Melba's social life.
"And if that doesn't work, I have this great plan for sneaking him out of the hospital and getting him back on the boat. All we need is a spiral-bound notebook, an avocado and a grappling hook."
Nick put a hand on Melba's shoulder. "Maybe we should just let him rest, okay? Now that we know he's okay."
She looked at him. "You're sure? I mean, I haven't tried the thing with the avocado yet, but based on my calculations--"
He and Murray spoke in unison. "Baba..."
If this hospital was the best place for Cody right now, Nick couldn't argue. Of course, that didn't mean he'd like it. Or stay away.
"Fine. Your choice. But don't say I never offered." Melba stood up. Nick and Murray walked with her to the entrance of the cafeteria, clustered in a tight knot in the hallway outside.
She kissed Nick's cheek. "Stay out of trouble, handsome. And tell Cory to call me."
He grinned and pulled her in for a crushing hug. "Thanks, Melba. I owe you one."
"One? What's this one nonsense? I got a running tally on the ones you two owe me." She hugged him, tight. "Really, Nick," she whispered, "It's gonna take a lot more than a mild cardiac event to keep Cody Allen down for long. But you take care of him, okay? Don't let go. Not for a second." She kissed his other cheek before stepping back and refluffing her hair. "Right. Now I'm off to take my nieces out of school and corrupt them with a real education. I'll talk to you both later."
The two of them watched her walk away, heels clipping along the corridor as she went. An old man lying on a gurney nearly fell off it as he turned to watch her pass.
Murray cracked up. "Isn't she a card? Oh, Baba." He giggled. "'Take my nieces out of school.' Not like she'd really take my daughters out of--you know, Nick, she really is--"
"Murray, she just impersonated Cody's sister and pulled a copy of his angiowhatever by seducing an underage doctor."
Murray looked at Nick.
Nick nodded. "If you hurry, you can probably catch her before she gets to the parking garage."
Murray's face fell, and he sprinted for the door. "Baba....."
---
By eleven o'clock that night, Nick had drunk more coffee than the entire time he'd been in the armed forces. First he nursed an unending cup in the cafeteria, then he wandered the halls with the stuff, then he went back to the cafeteria. At that point, he figured most of the day staff had gone home.
Nick skulked from one doorway to the next, an eye out for blunt-cut blond hair and attitude in scrubs. By eleven-thirty there was still no sign of Heather, so he decided to chance it. He waited until the desk nurse had gone for coffee of her own, then crept silently down the hall to Cody's room and slid inside.
There was no change from the previous night.
Cody lay silent and motionless in his nest of machines. Picking his way gingerly past the tubes and wires, Nick made it to Cody's side and slid a hand along his jaw. Nick kissed his forehead. "I love you so much, baby," he whispered. "So much."
He got no response, but kissed Cody's forehead again anyway.
Looking around the room, Nick prepared to settle in for the long haul. He pulled his chair from the previous night closer to the bed, and gently took Cody's hand.
The pneumatic door opened behind him and Nick stopped breathing.
The desk nurse stood silhouetted in the doorway for a second, then slowly approached the bed with a frown on her face. Nick's heart sank. He recognized that expression from his days at Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrows.
The nurse looked at him over her glasses. Her expression softened. She walked around the other side of the bed and adjusted Cody's pillows, taking his pulse, listening to his chest, all business. Nick stared.
As he watched, she made some notes on her clipboard, listened to Cody's pulse some more and then turned to leave. She stopped in front of Nick. The two of them stared at each other. One corner of her mouth turned up, then she walked out.
Only when the door swooshed shut behind her did Nick start breathing again. He couldn't believe his luck. Sitting there next to Cody, even amongst all the machines and antiseptic hospital walls, Nick felt at peace. He rubbed the back of Cody's hand, staring at the lined and weathered skin. He held the hand to his face, rubbing it against his jaw, happy just to watch Cody breathe, happy just to have made it back to Cody's side.
He had the best possible heart attack a person could have.
Which was still too much heart attack. Nick sighed, staring at his partner, lying there asleep. He couldn't imagine life without Cody, not for a day, not for a moment. He wouldn't let him go. This was the best place Cody could be so Nick would stay with him as long as he could, talking him through this and every other night. As long as it took.
Scooting his chair closer to the bed, Nick started whispering softly into the darkness, telling Cody everything he'd ever held back, everything he'd ever wanted to get out. He brought up stories from their past, and reminded him of their plans for the future.
He talked just as if Cody was listening, because deep in his heart, Nick knew he was. He could hear him listening inside his own head; it sounded something like Mimi's electronic hum in the headphones. So much a part of the expected background that he rarely gave it a second thought. For the past thirty years, any time either of them were awake, Nick had heard Cody listening, deep inside. As long as that sound continued, Nick would talk. They were in this together.
Finally, the room began to lighten with the first rays of dawn, grey and indistinct. Nick laid his head on the cool cotton sheets. He laid Cody's hand on the bed next to him, still not letting go, still talking in his own way.
Next thing he knew, the nurse was back, this time with two Security guys in tow. A pushover she might be, but one with a heart of molten steel. Nick opened his eyes with a smile. The nurse glared and raised a merciless eyebrow.
When he went to sit up, he felt something on his head. Reaching up, he found Cody's hand, fingers tangled in his hair. Kissing the palm, Nick let himself be escorted from the building one more time.
He'd be back soon, and he'd be taking Cody with him.
---
"Cody," Nick said, settling contentedly around his partner, "I'm giving up Reserves. Because that's the last time I take my eyes off you for two weeks." He laid a kiss gently against the back of Cody's neck, eliciting a noise that sounded suspiciously like a purr. A weak purr, but a purr nonetheless. Nick grinned on Cody's skin.
Cody wriggled slowly in Nick's arms, getting comfortable, while Nick stayed soft and pliant to accommodate his partner's body, offering himself as a pillow, a life raft. Any damn thing Cody wanted, he'd be, now and always.
They'd taken a taxi back to the boat. Even though he'd refused a wheelchair, Cody was too weak to walk far and Nick unwilling to leave his side long enough to drive, let alone rent a car. Cody had clung to him as he unlocked the slip and they'd made their way down the gangplank together, Nick doing most of the walking. He figured that the first person to give him grief about carrying his partner home from the hospital was worth going away for for another 90 days. Cody had laid his head wearily on Nick's shoulder as he unlocked the sliding glass door, and Nick could tell it was a relief when he finally hit the pillows in their stateroom. As slow as Nick'd insisted on going, Cody still wound up breathing entirely too hard for Nick's liking, and he'd ushered him into their cabin and bed, rubbing Cody's back until his breathing returned to normal.
Only then did he think about shutting the door upstairs.
Nick got back up to the door and then down again at record speed, vaulting back down the stairs from the main floor with his heart pounding. Every second now was even more precious than before, and the way Cody's eyes lit up as Nick crawled into bed next to him confirmed his instincts. He didn't plan to let Cody out of his sight ever again.
Nick closed his eyes, breathing Cody in, feeling the heat of him against his body. "Too close, man," he said softly.
Cody mumbled.
Nick leaned closer. "What, baby?"
Cody turned gently in Nick's arms until they were facing each other. "I said I heard you," he said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Nick rubbed Cody's back. "Heard me when?"
"That night, in the hospital. The night before. All of it." Cody took a deep breath, letting his eyes close. His voice was low and indistinct. "They had me so doped up...I couldn't move...but Nick...Nick, I heard you. And I did fight."
Nick tightened his arms around Cody as much as he dared, swallowing tears. "I know you did, baby. I know you did." He put his lips gently against Cody's forehead. "You fought real good." He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of the two of them, together; it pushed away the sick taste of dread he'd been swallowing for the past few days.
Finally, Cody settled easier in Nick's arms, his forehead still warm and sweet against Nick's lips, until a few minutes later his breathing slowed, and with one huge sigh swelling against Nick's chest, he slept.
Nick lay awake, listening. The boat settled gently around them, and the sounds of the busy marina outside filtered in, muted and distant but still familiar. At this point, they'd spent most of their lives living on the water, and Nick knew it soothed Cody. The gentle swell of waves against the hull, the smell of salt air through the open window, he knew all of it healed his partner, kept him going.
And what kept Nick going was Cody.
Nick closed his eyes, the anxiety of the last few days finally receding. Home, with Cody asleep in his arms and a locked door between them and the world, was all Nick could ask for. At last, for a little while, he could relax.
