Somewhere Else

Chapter 27: The Dream

The cars had been pulled up in such a rush that there was no order to it. Black and whites, armored trucks, men in uniforms that weren’t like Kray’s at all. Dark blue, yellow words, helmets with plastic visors over their faces. The guns they carried were larger than anything he’d seen a regular cop with. They were armed and dangerous.

The first breath of fresh air had been wonderful but now his throat ached worse as he kept screaming out to anyone that would listen. “Get him! Go in and get him!” Brave. Courageous. Kray had stormed in and taken control of the scene. Before any bullet could pierce his own flesh and take him down; the gunman had faced the wrath of a police officer that did not take kindly to hostage situations. Unfortunately the gunman pulled a quick one on Kray and as he was being removed from the room, he heard the boom, saw the man fall to the ground.

There were two of them, one on each side of him. They carted him out like he was nothing, despite how much he kicked and fought to stay inside. Putting himself back in peril was a small price to pay if it meant he could help out in some way. After all it was because of his naïve and trusting nature that Kray got dragged into this at all. If he had only realized the danger of the situation, then he’d be eating at a diner right now, sitting across from that man that he’d watched fall.

As soon as he was handed of to three others, those two in particular went back inside. Everything seemed to stand still though, fearful of what might occur. They didn’t know yet that Kray had taken out the man with the gun. Just not quite fast enough. He tried to tell them but no one was listening to the hysterical author, the cause of all this mess. Oh gods, he was on the ground and he was bleeding and they were moving slowly so as not to startle and incapacitated man. They were wasting minutes of Kray’s life worrying that one false move might actually end it.

He remembered when they were out on the lake together, out in the boat that he’d borrowed. They didn’t catch a single fish that day. It was when he told him about the bullet he took to the stomach. Though he played it down like it was nothing, he knew it was a very serious injury. He’d spoken of how his mother thought he should give his career up and told him how he was no longer required to work that part of the job any longer. After that he got the more interesting cases which, he figured, carried more risk. That wasn’t how Kray looked at it though. He was an admirable man.

Lifting both feet from the ground, he tried to use his weight to his advantage. Three against one wasn’t very fair at all. He kicked, trying to get the one in front of him to move aside so that he could see. He twisted and squirmed and tried to get free. They kept a good hold on him though. He could feel their fingers digging into his arms, frustrated that he couldn’t just settle down. “There’s no one there to hurt your men! He took care of him.” But now there was no one taking care of Kray. Finally he went limp and he hung his head, breathing so hard that he could hear nothing else.

The flash of the red lights swirling around the area caught his eye and he jerked his head up as quickly as he could. Two paramedics ran up the same stairs the other cops had gone up and then he waited. He was afraid that everything was too late. He didn’t know where Kray’d taken the bullet but he saw blood. Oh gods did he see blood. His stomach heaved now just thinking about how the thick crimson fluid would stick to the floor, how it seeped out around him. For a moment he thought it was coming after him, coming to touch him, infect him, taunt him about how he was the reason his blood spilled.

As much as he wanted to stand strong for him, his eyes misted over. This couldn’t be the end because there was too much more to write. There was so much more of their story to tell that he couldn’t fathom this being the way everything ceased to be. Finally he heard the sounds of footsteps rushing down the stairs. Only a glimpse was taken before he realized the doors were slammed shut and the tires were seeking to grip the road so that they could hurry off to the hospital. The siren cried out in anguish like he wished he could.

“C’mon.” One of the officers tugged his arm and this time it wasn’t in effort to settle him down. He put him in the front seat of the patrol car and flipped on his own lights and sirens. He remembered riding here before. He’d joked about how it was better than the backseat. ‘What am I? A privileged criminal?’ Turning his head he rested his forehead against the window. ‘Maybe today you can be the partner.’ Now all he wanted was to play the partner tomorrow.

The ambulance never left his sight. As they opened the doors to the emergency vehicle, he swung his own wide open and stepped out, running to the doors of the emergency loading area. The blanket was drawn high but not over his face. Thank the gods not over his face. Wires and machines and babble surrounded him. Numbers, numbers, everyone had a number that meant something. He had no idea what it all meant. He followed behind though, until the doors swung in his face. A nurse instructed him to stay out. There was a window in the door that he could see through though.

All of the doctors were dressed in their gowns, their gloves, and the instruments shining dully in the lights positioned over the bed. One arm wrapped around his middle while his opposite elbow rested against it for support. His fingernails slipped into his mouth and he bit nervously. Eventually he curled his fingers into the palm of his hand, pressed his knuckles to his lips as hard as he could but didn’t feel a thing. He stood watching with the heavy sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Expecting the worst never helped anyone.

They said that after the gun was pressed to his stomach and the trigger pulled that he called for his own ambulance. They said he didn’t even seem all that phased by what had happened. It was just another day at work for him. Then when he got the call about his girlfriend, he sat around in the hospital as stoic as could be imagined, so little emotion leaking from him. A perfect picture of calm and cool and collected, even if he was crumbling on the inside. Sometimes he envied Kray for being able to pull that off.

Even now his throat felt too wet to speak. The muscles were so tense he couldn’t fathom even air passing through. Tears welled in his eyes and it was all he could do not to look away, wiping them clean and taking a relaxing breath every so often. All that he managed though was a few short breaths that only added to the trouble he was already having in the respiratory department. Frozen in place, staring through the window, he felt like a stranger in a very strange place.

Suddenly every one of the doctors and nurses seemed to be moving faster. The sheet around his body had turned to such a dark, ominous shade that he felt Death was spreading his cloak over him as they all watched. The doors that he stood near flapped open and never quite closed before another body emerged or exited, looking for something more than what they had. Blood. He heard that he needed blood. He was losing it so quickly. The doctor became curt and didn’t accept help from anyone any longer. The man’s life was in his hands and he was adamant not to lose it. Like the ambulance, the heart monitor gave a cry of anguish. This time it was matched by the man outside the door, looking in on life.

Though the sound had been faint to begin with, he found that the whine was obsolete now. As the doctors rushed about, he feared he was only in the way. Confused as he was, he knew that it was imperative to move to the side and so pressed himself flat against the wall. Looking on he was curious as to what he was missing but also had a sense of knowing. If he saw, it would only reassure what he seemed to already be aware of. So rather than stay and watch, he slipped out the doors and started down the hall that he distinctly remembered his gurney traveling down not too long ago.

As he moved, he realized just how cold the hospital was. He rubbed his arms and almost instantly felt as though he was warming up, dropped them to his sides. At the end of the hall there was a figure that called to him. Black slacks over black polished shoes. A black jacket that was pulled back by the way the man was standing, one hand on his hip as his other arm rested against the railing of the hall. Even his hair was raven, cascading down his back, far beyond his shoulder blades. He had yet to turn in his direction, but he knew that was his company for the night.

Out of nowhere he felt a hand grasp his, one that was warm to the touch. The palm didn’t slide together as it might in an affectionate grasp but instead he felt only two fingers enveloped in a hold. Though he’d never truly held hands with a child, he recognized the gesture from pictures that he’d seen and moments in movies that he’d viewed. Startled, he looked down and was indeed greeted with the sight of a child.

Dirty blonde hair was the most of what he could make out. She wore a sweater, purple with white snowflakes, and jeans that were ripped in the knees. Obviously she knew of the cold and had come prepared. He couldn’t help but wonder where she came from though. The worst thought came to mind and he wondered if she had come from the waiting room, if she was here hanging in the grips of fate, waiting to see if she was a soon to be orphan or if she had recently been made one. Surely not  that was ridiculous. If that were the case, she would be so bereft that she wouldn’t just come up to him and hold his hand.

They continued down that hallway in the same direction he’d been heading. The ominous figure at the end seemed so ill fit that surely someone would notice him and ask him to leave. If not ask him to leave, at least ask his business in a place like this, where people were looking for hope and not something as dismal and dark as he seemed to be. Even now he began to question why he was drawn to him at all. The little girl at his side helped with that.

Just as he’d successfully lost himself in thought, there was a tug on his hand made by the child who still had no explanation for existence. She had stopped walking and was insisting as politely as she knew how that he does the same. Looking down at her, greeted by dark green eyes and a rather worried expression, he did stop but didn’t say a word. Now he was waiting for some reason for this to be happening and expected for her to be able to give it to him.

“Mr. Kray, I don’t have much time. I came to try to stop you from going with that man.” She used her other hand to cross the arm that connected her to the older man, pointing as meekly as she could manage to the one dressed in black at the end of the hall. She’d bartered with him, got him to agree to give her a few moments of his time, and if Nicholas still wanted to go that path, she wouldn’t stop him. But she felt he was making a grave mistake and begged she be given her chance to show that to him as well.

“Everyone is always drawn forward.” Even though she couldn’t understand why it worked that way, she went straightforward as well. Out of the room and then down the hall, much in the same way he was going now. “I wish I had looked back.” Maybe that was the reason. Not everyone had the chance to go back, to look over their shoulder and see their other option. For a lot of people the Angel came only once and they were meant to go right then. Only because she knew Kray had another chance did she wish to interfere.

“Who are you?” He still didn’t understand what she was trying to tell him. “Where did you come from?” While he wasn’t certain his questions would be answered, as she stated she didn’t have a lot of time, he felt that they needed to be asked and hoped he would have some curiosity sated, even if it took away from whatever allotted time she had for whatever project she was doing concerning him.


“My name is Winter Rose.” She smiled sweetly, then sheepishly, shoulders hunching slightly as she went on to explain. “My mom always hated having such a plain name and wanted me to stick out, like a brilliant red rose poking from a snow bank she’d tell me. You wouldn’t understand where I came from though. Just know that I’m here to help?” Maybe he wouldn’t consider it help.

Stepping around him, she turned him back so that he could see the disaster that he’d left behind. Surely this was why everyone was drawn forward. The images were not distorted, looked upon with such clarity that most confused actual reality with a dream, just because of the way things stood out. Nurses continued to push through the doors at a rapid pace, gathering everything the doctors were ordering of them. Peering into the window, done without the need to move from their location, he was sure to see a glimpse of himself on that table, though likely wouldn’t identify with the body left there.

“You see how hard they’re trying to save you? You’re a very noble police officer and they would hate to have you …pass on in their presence.” There was great sensitivity to death, she’d learned, and didn’t want to upset him and lose her chance because of her words. “What you did was very, very brave. If you go now, everyone will remember you for some while. Most remember the officers that sacrifice their lives for other humans, because it’s such a selfless thing to do. The memories don’t last all that long though, because so many tragedies occur that one is replaced with another.”

Now that he seemed to be piecing things together, she peeked up at him to see if he was still following, hoping that her words would have some effect on him in the end. “If you stay though, you’ll be remembered far longer. You won’t have the glory of giving your life for another man, but you’ll touch so many more lives in your time here on Earth that I’m not sure it’d matter so much.” Guiding him from the middle of the hallway, she positioned him so that he could see Brecker, who had ended up huddled against a wall where he couldn’t be easily seen by those coming and going.

His hands were over his ears so that he couldn’t hear the siren any longer. His knees were drawn up to his chest and he pressed his face to his knees, obscuring his expression from anyone in his world or the next, which was where they stood now. “He loves you very much. I’m not sure you’ve had the benefit of such love in your life yet.” Surely he had been in love and was well cared for, as she had learned that as she learned of Kray. To a young romantic though, she felt that the best was always still to come.

“This could be the most devastating day of his life. I’m not sure he’s ready for something like this.” She spoke of him as a mother might, looking upon her son’s life but staying out of it just as much as she could manage. Dropping Kray’s hand, she started towards Brecker, crouching down in front of where he sat her hands upon her knees as she studied him. If only she could have been close to him when he was happy, just like she always remembered him to be.

“You know Brecker?” Though he figured it to be a silly question once he asked, he hadn’t expected for her to know him at all. His hands found his pockets and there was no need to get any closer – he could see him fine from where he was. What was more interesting was the way that she seemed to approach him.

“He used to tell me that I was his one true love. I was going to grow up and marry him.” Even if someone had explained to her about age differences and sexual preferences, she wouldn’t have it anyhow. She had been convinced that when she was old enough, the two would be married and would live happily ever after, because aside from her mom and her dad, she didn’t love anyone as much as she had loved Brecker.

Rising from her position, she moved back to where Kray stood, her hand going to his forearm now that his hands were in his pockets. She kept her eyes on the man who sat huddled on the floor, before looking up to him with concern and pain in those deep green eyes of hers. Dropping her sight from him, torn between the two once more, she stated, “I miss him. He can’t tell when I’m watching him anymore. I’d give anything to feel his hug.”

As if some chime went off that only she could hear, she let go of him and stepped to the side, her fingers immediately going to her hair as a way to comfort herself. “You’ll have another chance later. I just wanted you to know what you’d be leaving behind if you went now. The decision is yours though.” The man in the dark suit was still standing at the end of the hall, waiting to see if Kray was ready to move on to the next world or not.

“Are you my Guardian Angel?” He wasn’t entirely certain that he believed in those sorts of things, but if there was a being come to give him this life-altering decision – or rather, this death-altering decision – he imagined that only an angel of sorts could. The fact that she too knew Brecker was all the better.

“No, not yours.” The knowing smile gave away whom she was here on behalf of, though through watching them she had quite a fondness for Nicholas too. The love that she had for Charlie extended to anyone that made him happy, to anyone that he loved, and that was without a doubt Mr. Kray. She was here on behalf of Brecker though, no doubt about it.

In the time he took to turn and regard the Angel with more of a wary eye and glance back, Winter Rose was gone. If curiosity alone was enough to pull him back, he would have to remember to ask about her. Curiosity pulled in the other direction though and he could live an entirely different life. He took one step down the hall, towards the man clad in black, before he glanced over his shoulder. In the instant that his eyes fell upon the other, he already knew what his decision was. After all, he’d have another chance later right?

Miraculously, after they were sure that all efforts had been met and exceeded in bringing this man back to life, when every last person in the room was looking to the doctor to call time, the sirens stopped and a regular beat was heard once more. They weren’t certain the extent of damage that would be done because of his time hanging between life and death, but they knew that they had him now and that was enough to celebrate.

As soon as Brecker heard the news that all was well once more, that Kray had stabilized and that they would soon be moving him to a room for observation and further treatment of a less threatening sort, he knew everything would be all right. Even the warning that long term damage might have been sustained didn’t phase him. Already he understood that nothing terrible would linger, just as he knew there was more to that recovery than mere medicine and effort.