John Reese (
primary_asset) wrote2016-08-01 09:25 am
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John wakes up with a start, his heart pounding, and his hand goes to his waist, searching for the gun that isn't there. The empty holster is gone, too, and it takes him much longer than he would like to come to terms with what's happened to him.
He had been shot and left to freeze to death in the car. (With Carter, some distant part of his mind wants to add, but he's coherent enough now to understand she had been a hallucination.) Somehow he had found himself on a beach in a city called Darrow, helped by a woman named Karen, and although he tries to convince himself that, too, was only a hallucination, he knows it wasn't. Against his better judgment, he'd let her call an ambulance that had taken him to the hospital where he's been treated for hypothermia and the gunshot wound to his shoulder.
His shoulder aches, but it's hardly the first time he's been shot. He still feels cold, but not so cold that he's about to die, so he lifts his head from his pillow and in the dim, early morning light, he carefully takes in the room.
From what he can tell, he's on the third floor, which makes escape out the window a little more difficult, but not impossible. There's only one door, no weapons from what he can see, but the IV pole which he's attached to will serve if it becomes necessary. If this place is run by Samaritan, he doesn't know what they might be pumping into him, but pulling the line out will only serve to bring them running, so for the time being he leaves it.
And she's still here. In the chair near his bed is the woman who had brought him here. For just a moment his heart aches with the normalcy of this scene. In the low light of the room she could be Jessica, blonde and young and alive. Sitting by her boyfriend's bed, waiting as he recovers from an injury that will force his retirement from the military and into a regular life with her. But she isn't Jessica and as quickly as the feeling arrives, it fades. John knows better than to entertain fantasies in which Jessica is still alive.
"Karen," he says, his voice soft. If Samaritan is here, they're listening, but he doesn't want to make things easy for them.
He had been shot and left to freeze to death in the car. (With Carter, some distant part of his mind wants to add, but he's coherent enough now to understand she had been a hallucination.) Somehow he had found himself on a beach in a city called Darrow, helped by a woman named Karen, and although he tries to convince himself that, too, was only a hallucination, he knows it wasn't. Against his better judgment, he'd let her call an ambulance that had taken him to the hospital where he's been treated for hypothermia and the gunshot wound to his shoulder.
His shoulder aches, but it's hardly the first time he's been shot. He still feels cold, but not so cold that he's about to die, so he lifts his head from his pillow and in the dim, early morning light, he carefully takes in the room.
From what he can tell, he's on the third floor, which makes escape out the window a little more difficult, but not impossible. There's only one door, no weapons from what he can see, but the IV pole which he's attached to will serve if it becomes necessary. If this place is run by Samaritan, he doesn't know what they might be pumping into him, but pulling the line out will only serve to bring them running, so for the time being he leaves it.
And she's still here. In the chair near his bed is the woman who had brought him here. For just a moment his heart aches with the normalcy of this scene. In the low light of the room she could be Jessica, blonde and young and alive. Sitting by her boyfriend's bed, waiting as he recovers from an injury that will force his retirement from the military and into a regular life with her. But she isn't Jessica and as quickly as the feeling arrives, it fades. John knows better than to entertain fantasies in which Jessica is still alive.
"Karen," he says, his voice soft. If Samaritan is here, they're listening, but he doesn't want to make things easy for them.