Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A voice somewhere kept saying his name. “Jim!”
The weight was oppressive, he couldn’t breathe, and pain stabbed his side every time he sucked in air. His hands - he couldn’t move his hands. Everything was heavy and difficult, and Jim felt disoriented, helpless. He wondered if he was dying, and the voice kept calling him, “Jim!”
Awareness began to float back, and he opened his eyes – only to immediately close them. Too bright, it was too bright. He gradually opened them again, squinting, and understood that he was staring up into the new “full spectrum” lights he’d recently installed on the ceiling of his garage. Suddenly he knew exactly where he was, and what had happened. The unconscious bulk of Alex lay completely on top of him, breath raspy and labored as his own. Jim’s hands were trapped between their opposing chests, and he could still feel the gun caught there. Jesus, air, he needed air.
“Jim! Talk to me!” Jim turned his head slightly and saw Ryan’s face loom over him, his eyes wide and frightened. “Jim, say something!” Ryan demanded.
As Jim’s wits returned to him fully, he observed that other than the pain in his ribs, nothing else actually seemed to hurt. Weren’t gunshots supposed to hurt? He tried to push Alex off, but his pinned arms didn’t have the strength.
“Help,” he managed to get out, but it was only as a whisper.
Ryan must have heard though, because he answered. “I called 911. The police are on the way. Help is on the way.”
“No, I…mean…get him….” Jim found a louder voice, but had to pause every few words for a breath, “ …get him…off.”
“Oh.” Ryan said, and he assessed the situation, but not nearly quickly enough for Jim.
“Pull him…him off.” Jim reiterated. He felt like he was suffocating. “Now!”
“But he’s…” Ryan hesitated and halfheartedly pulled at one of Alex’s arms.
“I can’t….breathe…get…him…off!” Jim started struggling to get his hands out, and this seemed to bring home the point to Ryan. With renewed purpose, he grabbed Alex’s arm, putting his weight into the task.
“Careful, “ Jim cautioned as Alex’s body started to move, “the gun…still here.”
Ryan nodded and with considerable effort, he was able to flip Alex over onto his back to lie face up beside Jim. Jim managed to lay the gun over to the opposite side on the garage floor with his own hand, and it was sticky with blood. He could feel warm wetness on the front of his T shirt and glanced down to see a deep red stain on the white fabric covering his chest.
If this was dying, Jim thought absently, it nearly wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. Having Art Boy off of him helped a lot. He still wasn’t getting enough air, but the overwhelming panicky feeling had subsided. Maybe he was actually okay.
“Thanks,” he puffed as he watched Ryan’s eyes widen even more, and saw his face turn a Casperworthy white.
“Oh shit. Pressure, I need to put pressure,” Ryan said shakily as he grabbed one of Pam’s art rags, knelt beside Jim, and laid the rag on his chest. “Where are you…where’s the wound, Jim? I’ll stop the bleeding.”
“I don’t….” Jim paused. “I think… I’m okay.”
“No, there’s blood everywhere, Jim. Where are you shot?” Ryan asked, panic in his voice, and he pressed randomly on Jim’s chest.
“No,” Jim insisted. “Don’t push…down…can’t…breathe.”
“But I’ve got to stop the…” Ryan protested.
At this point, Jim was still a little unsure himself. “Ryan,” he interrupted, “Lift up…my shirt..and…look.”
Ryan gingerly grabbed the hem of his bloody tee shirt and lifted it to peer underneath.
“Well?” Jim asked.
“Umm. No. There’s no - hole.” Ryan seemed puzzled.
Jim almost laughed as the scene took on an absurd quality.
“But the blood...” Ryan continued, confused.
“Must be ..Alex’s.”
Ryan looked over to Alex, nodded, and said, “He’s definitely shot. Wait, you know this guy?” Ryan asked, incredulous.
“Friend of…Pam’s… Pratt….” Jim panted.
“Wow,” Ryan said, looking dumbfounded as he rocked back on his heels in amazement. “Wow. You’re lucky.” He paused. “I’m lucky – when he saw me through the glass in the door - I thought he was going to shoot me.” Ryan surmised.
Come to think of it, why is Ryan even here? Jim finally had time to wonder. “Why are… you here?”
“Oh.” Ryan briefly lost his shellshocked look and answered, “I came by to apologize. I got your address…from somebody at the office – who knew you’d be alone tonight.”
Like I can’t figure out who that was Jim thought. And apparently everybody knew I was home alone tonight.
“I said some things to you that were out of line -before I left the office. Before I left on my trip.”
Ryan confessed, as the squealing sirens approached rapidly. “I’m sorry, I had no right. I’m going to…” The noise became deafening as they pulled up out front, and Ryan looked up. “I’ll go get the police in here.”
“Okay,” Jim nodded. He made a halfhearted effort to sit and gave that idea up in a hurry, so he settled back on the floor, contemplating while he waited. Alex had gone crazy and nearly killed him, Ryan had turned over a new leaf, and he couldn’t even call Pam and tell her. Wow. And why was it so hard to breathe? His ribs hadn’t caused this much trouble last time.
The police poured in and a couple of minutes later so did the paramedics. They opened the big garage door to the driveway, letting the cool air stream in, and he was thankful for that. It felt good, Jim thought, he needed air. The paramedics quickly evaluated both Alex and Jim, and Jim guessed he should be glad they started on Alex first. From their conversation, Jim gleaned that Alex had two wounds to the chest, one superficial and one serious, and they were sure in a hurry to get him to the hospital. The EMT’s soon had Alex bundled onto a stretcher and were rolling him out the door.
One of the policeman addressed Jim. “Mr. Halpert?”
Jim nodded.
“I’m Officer Scarne. This your place?”
Another nod.
“What happened?”
Jim gave a halting “guy showed up with a gun” account to the policeman, who didn’t press him for details. “This his gun?” the officer picked up the bloody gun with a rag, holding it as gingerly as possible. Jim nodded once again – it was easier than talking, and the officer walked away to find a bag.
From his position on the floor, Jim had a clear view of the street through the legs of a small table, and he saw a familiar blue Yaris pull up and park across the street – the police and ambulances had all the space in front of the house occupied.
He watched as Pam bolted toward the stretcher rolling toward the parked ambulance. A policeman stopped her and she fought to get past. Her hand reached to cover her mouth as she recognized Alex on the stretcher. He saw Ryan talking to her and watched her shrink back, then look toward the garage, toward him. It was like watching a silent movie.
Then Pam was running toward him through the open door, and she knelt beside him, tears streaming down her face. “Oh my God, Jim!” she exclaimed, with a look of pure terror in her eyes.
Ryan had trotted inside after her and tried to explain. “Jim’s not shot, Pam, “ but his words failed to override the visual of Jim’s bloodsoaked tee shirt and bloody hands.
“You’re….safe.” Jim stated simply.
“What?” she looked stunned to hear him talk. “Jim?”
“Okay...just ribs...again,” he assured her in his halting speech. In as few words as possible, he related to her the basics of what had transpired. He noted the policeman had returned and he stood behind Pam, taking down his words.
“Oh no. I. Alex tried? Oh my God.” Pam was having trouble processing what had happened, and she had a death grip on his arm. He wanted to touch her, to calm her, but his hands were bloody and he couldn’t get more than two or three words out at a time.
‘Puppy...took your…phone.” He even managed a lopsided smile for her. “In my...pocket. Take it.” He fumbled to pull the phone from his pocket.
“What?”
The scream of another ambulance pulling up made it impossible to talk, and Pam loosed her grip on his arm long enough to reach for her phone. The second set of paramedics soon made their entrance. After a quick evaluation, they made the decision to take him on to the hospital because they were concerned about a “pneumosomething.” Jim didn’t protest. He was beginning to feel a little dizzy and disoriented.
They efficiently lifted him to the stretcher and as they started rolling out of the garage, Jim said to a still distressed Pam, “S’okay...see you...there?”
She nodded through her worry. “But Ginny?” she remembered, gesturing toward her friend standing in the yard. Ryan assured Pam he would take Ginny home and then promised to come to the hospital to check on her. Who would have thought he’d be so glad to see Ryan Howard, Jim wondered, as they transferred him into the ambulance? What a night.
As the doors closed at his feet, he heard someone say to Pam, “You’ll need to ride up front, m’am.” The EMT started the IV dripping and was placing an oxygen mask over his nose and he felt the vehicle start to move.
Oh crap, he thought as the siren began to wail. The dog is still in the house.
Jim concentrated on thinking of things the dog might do to the house, because it took his mind off the more urgent torment in his chest. The short ride to Mercy Hospital seemed endless, but at last the vehicle came to a halt, the siren quieted and they pulled his stretcher out of the back doors of ambulance. Pam was waiting outside and flashed him her “I’m trying to be brave” smile. She walked with them as they entered the ER, but the nurse asked her to go to the desk for paperwork, so she squeezed his hand and said she’d be right back.
Once he got into the treatment area, things moved quickly. The doctor examined him immediately, and blood work and an X ray soon followed. They explained that he had a collapsed lung that had been punctured by one of his broken ribs, and that they needed to insert a tube in his chest to allow it to re-expand. Jim agreed without hesitation - he just wanted to be able to breathe again.
A quick numbing of a spot on his chest and the tube was in, and his breathing became much easier fairly quickly. His side still hurt like hell, but he no longer had to fight the panic of not getting enough air. While the nurse fiddled with his tubes, Pam appeared inside the curtain of his enclosure. As she walked over to his side, Jim managed a smile in spite of everything. She still had on that red dress.
The nurse interrupted his gaze. “Mr. Halpert, this is some pain medication I’m giving you - you should feel better very soon,” she said, pushing a syringe into his IV tubing.
Pam took his hand in hers and searched his face.
“Hi,” he said simply.
“Are you okay?” she asked, and he could see her lip quiver a little.
“Whoa!” he said, as he felt a sudden warmness and relaxation spread over his body. The pain in his side quickly distanced itself and a pleasant floating sensation overcame him. He was pretty sure he was smiling.
Pam’s brow furrowed, and she looked to the nurse, asking her, “Is he all right?”
Just then, the doctor ducked back into his enclosure. Jim was aware he was addressing Pam, explaining about his treatment, telling her that, barring any unforseen complications, he should recover fully. Jim felt his eyelids droop and realized he was getting very sleepy, so he interrupted their conversation to try and speak. “Thuh dog ish in the howsh,” he managed, but his words slurred and then he was no longer able to keep his eyes open.
“It’s okay, Mr. Halpert, just relax and let the medicine work,” the doctor patted his arm.
He heard Pam tell the doctor, urgency in her voice, “But I really need to tell him something. It's important.”
“What?” Jim wanted to ask, but his eyes wouldn’t open and his tongue wouldn’t work.
“It's okay, Ms. Beesly," he heard the doc reassure her. "You can tell him in a couple of hours when he wakes up. He’ll feel much better then. He’s going to be just fine.”
Nice to know, thought Jim, as he floated off into a surreal sleep. Nice to know.
.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Apologies for leaving this hanging for so long, I got sidetracked with another story. And thanks to Callisto and NanReg for their help in sprucing this up.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-UrOaOLqE4&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-UrOaOLqE4&feature=related
Chapter End Notes:
Well, it appears Jim is going to be okay, but there's still some more story to cover here, and one more surprise awaits.
