Tys mind whirred the entire ride up the elevator, throwing all sorts of grim scenarios at him that he tried hard to ignore. Hed no sooner gotten to the nurses station than he heard his name again.
“Special Agent Grady?”
Ty turned to meet the doctor whod called his name, abject terror clogging his throat. The doctor was a younger man despite his nearly white hair, and he projected an air of knowledge and experience around him. “Im Dr. Jameson,” he said, holding out his hand. “An agent downstairs called up to say you were on your way.”
Ty shook his hand automatically, not bothering to try to be polite. “Special Agent Garrett has you listed as his emergency contact. Does he have any family? Wife or children?” Jameson asked, his voice dropping to a tone that was probably supposed to be soothing.
Tys mouth went completely dry, and he had to work just to swallow hard enough to get words out. “He has family in Texas,” he said hoarsely.
The doctor nodded. “His next of kin will need to be notified, of course.” Ty stared at the man, trying to take in what he was implying as he felt tunnel vision threatening. It just wasnt making it through. He opened his mouth to respond but couldnt manage it.
“Special Agent Grady? Are you all right?” Jameson asked in concern. “I was told you werent injured. Your partner will need someone with him until his family can arrive.”
Ty closed his eyes and cocked his head to one side, trying to maintain control for just a little while longer. “You saying hes alive?” he managed to ask shakily.
Jamesons jaw dropped. It would have been comical under other circumstances. “Im so sorry—I thought youd already been informed. Special Agent Garrett is in serious but stable condition.”
Ty took a deep breath and balled his hand into a fist, telling himself that throttling the doctor would get him nothing but jail time. “Can I see him?” he asked through gritted teeth, glaring at the doctor dangerously.
“Of course,” the doctor said immediately, apparently realizing how upset Ty was. “This way.” He turned and led the way, punching in an access code at a secure door, which he held open for Ty before leading him through a maze of bays to one only dimly lit. The doctor stopped at the entrance by the glass door. “You should have some time. Were taking him for a CT scan soon.”
Ty stood at the doorway, looking in at an all-too-familiar scene. They were going to have to make a deal about staying out of hospitals for a while. It was beginning to wear on his nerves.
“Thank you,” he forced out to the doctor before he moved into the darkened bay. “He has a concussion,” Jameson said. “We dont know how serious yet. He hasnt woken up, but the swelling inside his skull is already subsiding. I think hell be okay.”
“You think a lot of things, Doctor,” Ty said coldly without looking away from the bed. “What do you know?” Jameson spoke after an awkward pause. “Special Agent Garrett has a hell of a hard head,” he said frankly. “I expected several skull fractures, but I only found bruising and a split scalp that we stitched up. As it is, his brain got rattled. Were focusing on trying to reduce the swelling, and my hope is that we wont find any internal bleeding. Theres no evidence of any so far. That doesnt rule out other injuries or blood clots. But overall? Your partner is a very, very lucky man.” With that, the doctor nodded uncomfortably when Ty glanced at him, and he left.
Ty watched him go, then looked back down at Zane with a sickening lurch of his stomach. He moved closer to the bed and leaned over him, looking at him closely. “Weve done this before, Zane,” he whispered to his partner. “You need to be more creative with your neardeath experiences.”
There was no reply. Zane lay absolutely still, the rise and fall of his chest only barely visible under the cotton gown and sheet. He was hooked up to three different IVs, and his head was wrapped in enough gauze to make a turban.
Ty gave a sniff and looked up into Zanes face again. “Fine, copycat. Dont talk to me, then. Im not leaving,” he said stubbornly as he dragged the heavy chair over from the corner of the bay and sat next to the bed. He crossed his arms over his chest and resolved to sit there until Zane woke, McCoys orders be damned.
He was still sitting there when two orderlies arrived almost an hour later to take Zane to the CT scan. Ty stood to the side and watched them prepare Zane to be moved. He knew they wouldnt let him go along, even if he flashed his badge around. He smelled of smoke, and his suit was damp and dirty and probably ruined. His entire body ached from head to toe, and he couldnt decipher which injuries had come from his run-in with Tank on the softball field and which ones had come from his foolhardy headlong search through the bomb debris.
He also noticed as he glanced at his reflection in the stainless steel paper towel dispenser that his face was smudged with smoke and dirt.
McCoy had been right: he looked like hell. It would do Zane no good if he woke up to find Ty sitting there looking like this. He cleared his throat and touched one of the orderlies on the arm to get his attention. “If he wakes up, will you tell him his partner will be back?” he requested in a hoarse voice.
The orderly glanced at him, looked him up and down, and then smiled. “Sure thing.”
“Thank you,” Ty murmured as he gave Zane one more glance and then went to call himself a cab.
“IT WAS him!” Pierce shouted, eyes bright with excitement. Graham raised an eyebrow, more and more convinced that his buddy was losing his mind.
“Who was him?”
“That ass**le FBI agent from the aquarium! He made me drive him to the hospital!”
“Whatd he do, hold a gun to your head?” Ross asked drily. “No,” Pierce answered, sounding more excited than angry. “He just pointed at me and told me I was going to do it, and I had like this physical response where I had to do what he told me to! It was awesome!”
Graham frowned. “That doesnt sound awesome.” Hannah rolled her eyes at them all. She was beginning to grow tired of the game; Graham could tell from the constant sighs she emitted lately. Soon shed be back under a football player from school.
“The FBI guy from TV was hot. He could tell me to do anything,” she told them as she counted out stacks of money from their last robbery.
“So why is this exciting?” Graham asked, ignoring her comment. Pierce grinned manically and dug out a pair of keys from his pocket, holding them up and letting them dangle. “Because he left his keys with me.”