A fictional work based on the tv series 'Without a Trace'
Rating: PG-17 (Language, violence)
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the show or characters. This story is for entertainment purposes only, without profit or gain of any kind.
Danny Taylor was worn to the bone. The orderly had loaded him into his chair and was in the process of wheeling him back to his room. As exhausted as he was, Danny ignored his body protesting loudly for the bed. The harsh lights overhead caused his eyes to hurt but even narrowed in pain, they saw the sign.
"ICU..." he whispered, then turned his most pious eyes upwards." Frank, turn up there."
"You can't, it's not time for visitors yet. Besides..."
"I need to see my partner. Nobody will tell me how he's doing. He damn near died saving my life. "
"I don't know, Taylor, they got rules for a reason." Frank stopped outside the double doors that led to ICU.
"Five minutes, that's all I want." Danny made a heartfelt plea, "Can you ask the nurse?"
By the time the petite, blonde nurse appeared with Frank, Danny had his most pitiful face painted on. He used his most beseeching eyes and put his heart into his plea.
"I know you're busy and I want to thank you for taking time to hear me out. My partner Martin Fitzgerald is in there. He almost died saving my life. He's got amnesia, I know how confused he is. I need to see him... I haven't seen him since we got rescued. He was so sick... I just need five minutes... please, you won't even know I'm there."
"Five minutes," Cindy Armstrong decided, totally undone by the painful dark eyes. "Then you have to get back to your own bed. Understood? Five minutes!"
"Thanks so much!" Danny babbled, pointing to the door. "Come on Holmes, the clock is running. My man Harvard is waiting on me."
Although Jack had told him that Martin didn't look well, the sight of the clean shaven, pale face, now gaunt from weight loss, startled him. He looked too frail, as if touching him would cause pain. But Danny instinctively lifted the limp hand and swallowed the lump in his throat. Instead of pale, closed eyelids, he saw stormy blue eyes taking on an armed felon. Instead of the unmoving body riddled with fever, infection and pain, he saw a bearded warrior fighting to keep them both alive. Twice he tried to speak but was so overcome by emotion, his voice came out as a choked sob. He had to blink back tears that were forming quickly.
"Hey... man... it's Danny... Danny Taylor," he stammered, "You look like shit partner."
"Partner?"
The word penetrated the deep sleep he was trapped in. The dark street with menacing figures approaching him in the snow backed alley. He was transported to a warehouse where a slim man with dark eyes was bleeding and thrashing in a broken crate. The man's lips parted and spoke to him.
"...partner..." Danny whispered, watching Martin's face furrow and a scowl form. "That's it man, it's me. Come on, open them killer blues... please... Martin... look at me. "
The room began to spiral at a dizzying pace and Martin was caught in the vortex. He blinked and choked, coughing and sputtering as he was taken from the place. He felt like Dorothy in Kansas as the twister lifted him into another time and space. The voice was his lifeline; he clung to it, sought it out and fought hard to reach it.
"Hey!" Danny's voice cracked when the blue eyes blinked over at him. "It's me, Taylor, remember?"
Martin studied the tear-streaked face and thought hard. A word came to mind along with such a strong emotional pull it stole his air. He nodded his head and tried to speak, but he had no voice. His fingers automatically moved, the first two crossing together. He lifted his free hand and tapped his own chest, then pointed to his wheelchair bound visitor.
"Partner?" Danny enthused, matching the gesture. "You bet your ass we are. Yeah, man, that's right. Good for you, you remember me huh?"
Martin nodded and then his face creased with worry. He saw the slinged arm and the ashen features. He remembered the broken body in the box and then another image, his own body slamming into this man's and sending him off a railing. A fall that caused the very injury that put him in this place maybe. Guilt washed over him and he began to gasp.
"Hey? What's wrong?" Danny asked and saw the wavering arm point to him and then the face flushed with shame. "No, Martin, that's not..." he paused and waited until the shamed eyes turned up. "Look at me, this is not your fault. You saved my life. You remember that, okay? Leave that guilt shit alone."
Martin knew Taylor wouldn't lie to him, so he thought maybe his dream was mixed up. He took the strength shining brightly from the dark eyes and let it fill him. His pain seemed to ebb and he felt stronger for the first time since waking up.
Danny fell silent then, not allowing words to ruin this moment. He felt the change in Martin and intensified his grip. It was as if he was transfusing a part of him into the shattered soul of the broken body in the bed. He felt a surge so strong he was sure he was connected to a humming source of electrical current. Martin's color got better and his eyes lost their clouds. They were bright and sure. A small smile formed and the lost eyes crinkled in mirth. Danny's own lips turned up and he let out a long, satisfying breath.
While the two lost partners reunited, two visitors had arrived. They stood transfixed at the sight that unraveled on the other side of the glass. Each was left speechless at the raw emotions that tumbled freely from Danny Taylor. The change to each man's physical and emotional state was inspiring.
"My God," Jean Fitzgerald stammered standing outside the cubicle and watching through the window. "I had no idea.'"
"I don't think Danny did either," Jack Malone replied. He'd met Jean in the lobby and came up to the room with her. Victor was parking the car and would follow shortly. "Let's give them a minute. I think Danny needed this more than he realized."
Danny held onto the weak hand even after Martin's eyes drifted shut. He knew how sick and weak Martin was and he was grateful they'd gotten to see each other. He truly believed that being here, that seeing him had helped his lost partner. He wanted to talk to someone and ask about getting Martin transferred to his room. Didn't they realize just how much support he needed? That nobody else could give him that, they didn't share the ride through hell they'd been through together.
"Mister Taylor?" Cindy whispered, tapping the blue-robed patient's shoulder. 'I hate to remind you..."
"No," Danny rasped, "It's cool, a deal's a deal."
"His mother is here and his father will be shortly. We can only allow two visitors at a time."
"Yeah, okay...." he saw a blur of movement and a petite woman with short dark hair and Martin's very expressive eyes appear next to him.
"I'm Jean Fitzgerald, Danny, and I'm so honored to meet you at last."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Fitzgerald, I didn't mean to tie up your time," Danny replied but still held the hand in the bed.
"No, don't be," she spoke softly and cupped his chin with her hand. "You have no idea how very grateful this mother is for..." she had to pause as her voice cracked. "We... his father and I are very grateful to you for finding him. He could have died out there if it wasn't for you."
"That's what partners do," Danny replied, totally disarmed by her charm and grace. It was then he transferred Martin's hand. The lifeline would be safe with her. "And he saved my life too. We're quite a team."
"Thank you," she choked, bending and kissing his cheek. "You'll always have a place in my heart."
Danny felt his face flame with color and dropped his eyes, swiping the dampness there. It had been so very long since he'd been graced with a mother's touch. He'd forgotten just how powerful a lure it was and how good it felt. He even found a smile and a catch in his gut when she chastised him for being out of bed.
"You should be resting. I've been checking every day with your nurses. You are supposed to be sleeping this afternoon. You had therapy today." She saw the bright eyes come up startled. "A mother knows... a mother always knows." She gifted him with a smile. "You promise me you'll rest?"
"Yes Ma'am... I... don't..." Danny stammered badly, his eyes full. This was where the giving soul who tended to him in that cold warehouse came from. It was from her he got that. "Thanks..."
"We have been stopping up to see you each day, but you were always sleeping. The fever and exhaustion, the nurse said."
"You didn't have to do that," Danny's voice was shocked and it showed. Then she cupped his cheek and her eyes flooded with warmth.
"Yes, son, I did. And if you don't get back to that bed and rest, you'll find out just where Martin gets his temper from."
"Yes, Ma'am." Danny grinned like a fool and felt his face flush with color.
Martin heard voices and felt a change in the current. The grip was soft on his hand, firm but soft. He cracked an eye open and saw a small woman talking to Taylor. She smiled at him and bent over the rails to kiss him. He backed up, skittering to the other side of the bed and yanked his hand free.
"Martin?" Jean's voice faded away and her heart sank at the terrified stranger looking back at her with eyes wide with fear.
"It's okay," Danny whispered to the upset mother. "He doesn't know you. He's real confused when he wakes up." He moved closer to the bed and tapped on the rail, causing the frightened figure to plead silently at him. Martin's hand was working the blanket again, the slim fingers rubbing the fabric with great anxiety. "Hey, it's cool, Martin. This is your mother, Jean Fitzgerald. She's got the touch, you know, that mother's touch. You hang on that man, it's better than all the crap in your IV, okay?"
Martin stared at Danny for a moment and then fortified by the strong words, he turned to the slim woman who was now weeping. He winced and swallowed hard, he never meant for her to cry. He felt a pain rip in his gut and reluctantly his fingers left the blanket he'd been 'clipping' and reached for the tissues on the bed tray. He caught her gaze and nodded. She sobbed and bent down again to kiss him and he gently wiped the tears away.
"Smooth, man," Danny teased and grinned. "See, I'm rubbin' off on you."
"I'm sorry, Martin, I didn't mean to scare you," Jean apologized, taking the seat next to the bed. Then she saw his face fall and his eyes fill with trepidation. She turned slowly and saw the orderly turning Danny's chair.
"Hey, it's cool, now, right? I gotta go, Harvard, my ride is here. They got rules about visiting. I'll try and come back later." Danny felt awful leaving. Martin looked like a deer caught in the crosshairs. The damned eyes were ripping a hole inside him. "Your mom and dad are here, they'll take good care of you. I promise." He held up his right hand, crossing his first two fingers. His partner followed suit and with a smile and nod, he departed.
Martin held onto that word and moved his head until he couldn't see Taylor anymore. He kept his eyes on the closed doors of the ICU unit long after his partner had gone. He felt uncomfortable now. All the warmth and strength and purpose that had engulfed him when Taylor was here had evaporated. He believed this woman was his mother, Taylor said so but she was a stranger. He felt awkward and unsure and shifted in the bed.
"I know this is hard for you, son and I'm so very sorry," Jean read the anxious eyes well. "It's hard for me too. No mother wants her child to look at her through a stranger's eyes." She saw his gaze turn to her and he really focused on her words. "I wish I could take all your pain away and make those clouds in your memory go away." She paused to brush her fingers through his hair. He sighed hard and pressed his face into her palm, his bruised features forming a soft smile. 'You remember that? That always calmed you as a boy when you were sick or frightened"
Martin did remember the feeling that came with the touch, although her face and voice were strange. He nodded again and let the tension evaporate with the magical work her touch was producing. It felt good and his breathing evened out, he relaxed and started to doze. Then the touch went away and he peeped his eyes open, looking for her.
"I'm right here," she vowed, warmed by the look in his eyes. "I'm not leaving."
That was enough for now, enough to guide him into a deep restful sleep, void of bad dreams. The healing slumber that was much needed, for now her touch was the wind in his sails.
Danny's face creased in frustration as he pushed the channel button on the remote again. He wasn't interested in talk shows or bad sitcoms from the seventies. He yawned and flipped the news on. His dinner would be arriving in about an hour and the thought that it was the highlight of his afternoon made his stomach turn. Then CNN came on and three famliar faces appeared in still shots across the screen. He fumbled with the dial until the sound came up.
"....in the assault of a fellow agent, Martin Fitzgerald. Fitzgerald is a rookie of only a few weeks on the Missing Persons Unit of the F.B.I. here in New York. He went missing the day after the assault and was found nearly ten days days later ill and suffering from numerous injuries. He's in a Hartford hospital in the I.C.U. recovering."
Martin's face flashed then, from a news camera the day he was taken from the warehouse on a gurney. The close up was painful to view and seeing Martin's battered and swollen face coupled with the lingering images of the three bastards who'd beat him in the parking lot of the Federal Building caused his anger to rise. He turned the sound down and reached for the phone. Something that had been nagging at him since he'd woken up needed addressing.
"Delgado"
Rico waited but was only met by silence on the other end. He frowned and was about to hang up the phone when a low voice sounded. The words sent a chill up his spine.
"Tell me you didn't know."
It had taken Danny several seconds after hearing his friend's voice to get enough control of his anger to even speak. He'd known Rico for years and considered him a good friend. That's why this hurt so badly. To think that Rico could have seen this happen or even heard about it later bothered him greatly.
"Danny?" Rico's voice didn't hide his surprise. He tossed his pen down and sat back, trying to absorb the words and the tone. "Hey, I heard you're doing good... well better."
"I'm sick, Rico," Danny answered; the flush on his face was not due to fever. "As a matter of fact just thinking about what you and those animals did to Martin is making my gut churn."
"I didn't have anything to do with that!" Rico defended. "I wasn't there."
"And after? You had to know, I know how Tyrone likes to brag."
"Oh right, I'm gonna rat them out. Yeah, that's what I should have done," Rico sounded hotly. "Christ, Danny, you don't even like the guy. Hell, you were ready to tar and feather him that night."
"Shooting my mouth off is one thing," Danny corrected. "I was pissed off... and part of that anger was my fault. I know that now. But to do that... to beat another agent senseless... to hurt him. That's not the Rico Delgado I know. He wouldn't have stood by and allowed something that disgusting to happen."
"Look, Danny, I'm sorry he got hurt but I didn't do anything."
"No, You sure as hell didn't!" Danny growled and slammed the phone down.
The conversation left him empty and cold. He felt the familiar waves of guilt washing over him. If only he had kept his mouth shut that night, Martin might not have gone missing. He liked Rico but knew that this would now be an invisible wall between them. The faces of the other three loomed before him and the coldness in his gut turned hot. Like acid rain it burned within him, the need for revenge. His emotions were all over the place and he struggled to contain his anger. His body reacted to the change in tide, causing a bad coughing spell. Just then a much needed body arrived in the room.
"Hey!" Danny managed, blinking and coughing. He reached for his tissues and coughed up a wad of muck. He tossed the tissue away and reached for his ice water.
"Hey, yourself," Jack sent back, entering the room and depositing a box of chocolate candy on the tray in front of him.
"Chocolate?" Danny frowned. "I don't get it, that's not my bag."
"So when company stops in to see you, you say 'How are you?', 'Care for a chocolate?'" Jack dangled the bait.
"Care for a chocolate?" Danny repeated, still puzzled.
"Don't mind if I do," Jack replied, taking the lid up and selecting two chocolate nut and caramel clusters.
"Man, that's weak," Danny objected, tapping his congested chest, "bringin' candy to an invalid to satisfy your greedy needs."
"You're hardly an invalid and they're not for you," Jack muffled, slurping up the caramel. He opened the lid again and shuffled the candy around inside, to make it appear that none had been taken.
"Cheap bastard!" Danny chuckled. "Not for me?"
"No, for your roommate, he's a chocoholic." Jack picked up the box and waited. He saw the puzzled dark eyes and tossed out another clue. "You're a detective, figure it out."
Danny thought on the word 'roommate' and pondered. Then he saw an overeager rookie whose candy bar tab was as high as most bar tabs. His eyes flew to the doorway as he heard a squeaky wheel. His good hand gripped the railing and he leaned his head to the right to see more easily. Then a gurney appeared and the 'chocoholic' was wheeled in.
"Martin!"
"Shush!" The orderly warned. "He's asleep. He had a rough afternoon."
"Sorry," Danny murmured, eyeing the chart nurse who was right behind the orderly. Martin was settled into the next bed and his IVs were checked. Once the new vital signs were taken, the nurse turned and approached.
"He's doing much better," she updated, tapping the hand clutching the bar. His dark eyes were full of worry. "Relax, he's breathing better and his fever is down, even his bowels are better."
"Good," Jack sighed. "He's lost too much weight already."
"He moved up from clear liquids to soft foods." She took Taylor's vital signs and was pleased. "You're doing much better too. I think you'll be released over the weekend."
"What rough afternoon?" Danny asked. "The orderly said Martin had a rough afternoon."
"He has two bad episodes and woke up in a state. If he wasn't so weak, he would have been uncontrollable. It's very hard when you have a head injury and memory loss. He was very agitated."
"I know!" Danny spoke up, turning to Jack. "Didn't I tell you that at the warehouse? It's awful what he goes through. Then he rocks, holding his head and passes out."
"Exactly, which is why we moved him to your room. You seem to be the one link that he has between past and present. We're hoping seeing you close by will calm him. You see these episodes might get more frequent as the bruising on his brain heals. The return of the memories will be painful."
"You tell the other doctors not to worry, I'm on the job!" Danny announced, carefully checking Martin to ensure he was sleeping and not dreaming.
"Well alright!" The nurse smiled. "If you need anything, you buzz me, okay? I'm Cara and I'm on until eleven thirty tonight."
"Thanks." He saw Jack eyeing the chocolates and Martin. "If you put them in the top of the closet, I'll give them to him when they okay it."
"Yeah," Jack mumbled, popping the box and taking two more. "Actually, they were just a clever prop. I knew they were switching his room."
"Man, that's low," Danny chuckled. "You headed home tonight?"
"No," Jack answered, scratching his chin. "Horne's lawyer is arriving in the morning. I want to be there."
"I can't believe they haven't found anything yet." Danny shifted gingerly. "We gave them a rough idea of the general area. Something had to have happened. Without that key..."
Danny didn't finish and Jack kept his eyes on Martin. He had a gut feeling that Martin's memory would come back as his brain healed.
"Don't underestimate Martin," Jack quipped as the scent of food drifted through the room. "His brain will heal and that memory should come back. He might unlock it himself, without Horne."
Dinner arrived and Danny had no sooner had two spoonfuls of his roast beef in his mouth when Martin began to tremble. The arms flailed out and the eyes shot open, wide and unseeing. Danny nearly choked himself trying to swallow when Martin began to gag and claw at his throat.
"No!" Jack ordered, when he saw Danny trying to sit up. He crossed the room and clapped his hands in front of Martin. He heard Danny buzzing for the nurse. "Martin! Wake up!"
He grabbed the IV'd arm and held it, using his free hand to grab Martin's chin. "Hey, hey... snap out of it."
"Martin? They're gone, they're not hurting you. You're safe!" Danny called out. "It's me, man, I got your back. You're not choking."
The nurse arrived and moved to the other side of Martin's bed. She placed a firm hand on his shoulder and shook it gently."Mister Fitzgerald?" she called out loudly, watching his eyes blinking rapidly.
Jack grew frustrated and gave Martin's face a light tap. The wheezing slowed and the eyes blinked. He heard several shuddering breaths as Martin's eyes roamed the room. Finally, they rested on his face and the brows furrowed. He didn't pull away in fear, which Jack took as a good sign. Rather, his head cocked and he narrowed his eyes, studying him carefully.
"I think he's okay now," Malone addressed the nurse who agreed and departed. He turned back to Martin, who was still staring at him. "Jack Malone. I'm your boss in New York. You remember me from the warehouse?" Jack asked and then fished the watch out.
Martin puzzled up and thought hard, recalling lots of men in blue and badges shining in his eyes. He remembered a gun and protecting Taylor. It was then that his fuzzy brain cleared up a bit more. He blinked several times and his eyes went wide in surprise. There on the other side of the room was his partner! His grin was matched by Taylor's beaming right back at him.
"What? You don't believe me?" Jack inquired when the blue eyes went seeking confirmation and around him to Taylor.
"It's Jack, I told you about him," Danny concurred, shaken by the lost soul. The weight loss was evident now that the beard and grime were gone. The beseeching eyes seemed especially large in the gaunt face. "He's a good guy. He's okay."
"Thank you," Jack added with a voice dripping in sarcasm. "This look familiar?" He flinched when the claw like hand grabbed the watch. The head cocked and the eyes furrowed, lost in thought. "Your grandfather's?" He watched the head bob. "You gave it to me to hold onto for safekeeping. Do you want it here? Or I can give it to you mother?"
Martin's eyes were transfixed by the worn timepiece. He remembered a bearded man with eyes wide and blue and a gentle smile. He recalled beach walks and talks of days gone by and laughter; the kind of laugh that warmed you on a cold day. Nostalgia overwhelmed him and he felt himself longing for those golden days. He held his wrist out and waited.
'You sure?" Jack asked and the wavy head bobbed. "Okay..." He secured the watch and Martin seemed quite taken with it. He pressed it against his chest; his eyes were glued to it. He filled Martin's cup with ice water and put it in front of him on the bedside tray. As he turned to go, his arm was tapped gently. "You need something?" Jack asked and then smiled when the hand came out for him. "You're welcome, junior."
Danny resumed his meal and Jack came back to sit by his bed. They thought Martin was resting, but then the thin body sat up a bit and moved for the tray. But when the lid was lifted and the chicken rice soup, vanilla pudding and apple juice were revealed, the lid slammed down in anger. The face morphed and flushed in annoyance and the squared jaw was defiant.
"Jesus, you're worse than my kids. Eat that, it's good for you!" Jack ordered and then moved to the other bed.
Martin made a face and waved his hand over the food, inviting 'Jack' to eat it if he liked is so much. He pouted and sat back, banging the lid on the rail.
"Cut that out!" Jack growled, grabbing the lid. 'You're too old for a temper tantrum. Look, Martin, that's all you get. Your insides aren't ready for real food yet and Danny doesn't need your ass leakin' all over the room, okay? So you're going to eat the fuckin' pudding and soup and like it."
Danny smirked when Martin's irate features froze for a moment on Jack's stern face. He coughed and covered his mouth when Jack arched a single eyebrow at the petulant face in the bed. For a moment, they remained in place then Martin relented and dropped the lid. He watched Jack point to a spoon and Martin's shaky hand reach for it. Then his smile turned warm when Jack steadied the very shaky hand.
"You want some help?" Jack offered and waited, but Martin shook his head. But Jack remained ready to step in should the weakened body fail. It took awhile but Martin did finish his tray and the heavy eyes drifted shut.
"Nice work, Agent Malone," Danny cued when Jack returned to his bedside. "You ever lose this job you can get a gig in a daycare center."
"Yeah," Jack scoffed, keeping his eye on Martin.
Jack stayed through dinner and Danny appreciated the company and the humorous comments about his food. But as grateful as he was for Jack's company, he was worried about Martin. Jack turned on an old movie and Danny felt himself dozing. The evening meds distributed by the nurse had kicked in and it was hard to keep his eyes open. He was vaguely aware of Jack saying goodnight.
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