Part Five
Cassy floated on the edge of awareness, not quite able to break through to consciousness. Her thoughts were confused, her emotions in turmoil. She was certain of only one thing; she had to find Tom. She tried calling out for him, but her voice didn't seem to be responding to the demand from her brain. She was vaguely aware of another presence in the room, but instinctively knew that it wasn't her partner. Fear prevented her from exploring further. She couldn't face the possibility that her attacker had returned to finish what he'd begun. Reluctantly, she slid back into the comfort of the darkness.
******
Harry entered the waiting area to find Tom sitting in a chair, his head propped against the wall, his eyes closed. A bloodstained cotton ball was taped tightly in the crook of one elbow. The captain hated to disturb him, but he had to know. "Tom, how's Cassy? What did the doctor say? Was she...did he..." Harry still couldn't bring himself to ask the dreaded question.
Tom answered, not bothering to move or even open his eyes. "They say she's got a slight concussion and she's still not awake, but that's from the drugs, not the concussion. That she wasn't raped, but he did rough her up pretty bad. That nothing's broken, but she'll be pretty sore for awhile. That eventually she should be fine. They're getting ready to move her upstairs now."
Harry released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "So how are you? What about your test? Was it the same stuff they found in Cassy's system?"
Tom still hadn't moved. "They say the lab is really backed up and my results should be available by the middle of next week. I'm not considered high-priority. Probably won't be anything there anyway." Tom still wasn't ready to admit that he might have been drugged as well.
"Well, we'll see about that. I'll talk to someone and get a rush put on it." The captain wasn't willing to wait for the middle of next week.
A voice spoke up behind them. " I'm afraid it won't do any good. Sergeant Ryan doesn't qualify as high priority and there is nothing you can do or say to change that." A tall middle-aged woman in a white coat extended her hand to Harry. "I'm Dr. Warren. I assume you are here for Cassandra St. John? I've been treating her since she was brought in. Has someone filled you in on what we know so far?"
Harry nodded and identified himself. "Captain Harry Lipschitz."
The doctor continued, "Cassandra's beginning to come around. She's being settled in a room as we speak. You can see her in a few minutes. She keeps calling the name 'Tom' over and over. Are we correct in assuming 'Tom' would be you, Sergeant Ryan?"
Harry gestured toward the detective, who had slowly risen from his chair. "Yes, Sergeant Ryan here would be 'Tom'."
"Good. We feel it would be best for her if you are there when she wakes. If you'll just follow me, I'll take you to her room." The doctor motioned for Tom to follow. Harry wasn't far behind.
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Awareness was slowly returning. Cassy 's first sensation was that of knives piercing her chest with each breath. Her stomach was nauseated and sore. Her head felt like it was being crushed in a vise. Her head...oh god, someone was stroking her hair! The pain in her chest intensified as her breathing quickened. A familiar voice was calling her name. Her breathing slowed to normal as recognition came. Tom! Tom was here to save her! He hadn't been killed! After several unsuccessful attempts, she was finally able to get her right eye to stay open. The left was firmly swollen shut. "Tom?"
Her voice was weak and shaky sounding, but Tom Ryan found it to be one of the sweetest things he'd ever heard. He again began to stroke her hair, afraid to touch her anywhere else. He fought to keep the rage he was feeling from his voice as he looked at her bruised cheeks and swollen lips. "It's okay, Cass. I'm here. Harry's here, too. You'll be okay now. I promise. I won't let anybody hurt you anymore."
She winced as she lifted her hand to place it on her partner's forearm. "Thank God. You're...okay." The relief in her voice was obvious. "It...hurts, Tom. It hurts. I... think...I'm...I think...I'm going...going...to..." her voice trailed off as she drifted back into the comfort of sleep.
Tom carefully took her hand in his own, not wanting to cause her further discomfort. Both of her wrists were bruised and raw from her struggle against the handcuffs. "That's good, Cass. You sleep now. I'll be here when you wake up. You'll be all right now. You'll be all right."
Harry wondered which one of them Tom was trying to convince, Cassy or himself. 'Speaking of convincing, how do I persuade him to go home and get some rest?'
As if in answer to his unspoken question, the nurse came in to check on Cassy. After she finished, she turned her attention to Tom. "Sergeant Ryan, she won't wake up again for hours. You should go home and get some rest. It won't do her any good to wake up and see you looking this way. She needs to concentrate on getting better, not worrying about her partner."
Tom wasn't going to be easily persuaded. "No. I'm okay. I'm fine. I promised her I'd be here when she wakes up. I can't leave her."
The nurse had dealt with his kind many times. She motioned him over to the bathroom as she switched on the light. "Take a good look in that mirror, Detective. Do you really think that seeing you in this condition is going to make her feel better? Is this face really the first thing you want her to see when she wakes up?"
Tom stood in front of the mirror and gazed at a haggard face, dark circles under both eyes. His shoulders sagged, admitting defeat. "All right, but only for a couple of hours. I have to be here when she wakes up." He walked over to explain to his sleeping partner. "I have to go for a couple of hours, Cass. I promise I'll be back before you miss me." He leaned down and gently kissed her forehead.
Harry, who'd stood by silently watching the exchange between Tom and the nurse, nodded his appreciation as she left the room. He moved to the bed to say his own good-byes. "Sweet dreams, Cassy. Sweet dreams," he whispered as he bent to kiss to her forehead. "You feel better soon. Real soon." He turned his attention to Tom. "Come on. I'll give you a lift home. We can pick up your car later, after you've rested." His tone left little room for argument, and Tom was simply too drained to make the effort.
On his way out the door, Tom's cell phone rang. "Ryan," then a short pause. "Oh jeez, I'm sorry. I had an emergency and I couldn't get back ... Reschedule? Sure. When? Not till next week! You gotta be kidding! Oh man, isn't there any way you could..." The voice on the other end of the phone was not a happy one. Tom quickly decided it would be in his best interest not to further anger the man. "Sir, I'm really very sorry about today. I very much appreciate your waiting. Yes, I understand you have other customers. Fine. I'll see you on Monday." He disconnected the call and smacked the phone in disgust, dreading the very warm five days ahead.
He jumped at the sound of Harry's voice behind him. "Sounds like you have a problem. Not to worry. You'll stay with me till Monday. Truth is with Frannie gone I could really use the company. This is gonna be great!" Harry smiled as he headed down the hall and out to the car. Cassy was going to be fine and now he'd have someone to talk to at night for the next few days. What more could he want?
Tom slowly followed his captain, feeling much like a condemned man making his way to the gallows. 'God, can this week possibly get any worse?'
End Part Five
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