My turn! Check out the last part HERE.
The blood went down like water and Sam could feel it spreading out through his long-dead veins and arteries. It brought strength and courage along with it, just like it always had.
Sam drained the bag and deposited it at the very bottom of one of the hospital’s waste receptacles, making sure there was plenty of other garbage on top. He washed up, taking care to scrub well, and ran his hands through his hair. His shaking had stopped and a mellow calmness stole over him.
Now, he could deal.
Back out in the hallway, he scanned the immediate area and didn’t see anything out of place. He had no idea where the nurse would have taken Ken, so Sam began systematically searching the empty patient rooms before heading back to the busy emergency room.
The last private room on the left was not empty. Ken still lay on the gurney and the young nurse hovered over him, glancing worriedly at the monitor that she’d hooked Ken up to. When Sam entered the room, she looked over.
“Dr. Wexford,” she said, doubt in her voice. “I’m not really understanding what I’m seeing here.”
Sam knew without a doubt what the nurse was seeing, but he knew she wouldn’t understand it. Mortals could never understand it. “It’s all right, Cecilia,” he said gently. “Why don’t you let me take it from here and you can go on back to work. If I need you, I’ll call.”
She seemed at once glad to return to work and unsure about leaving Ken. “All right. Let me know what I can do.” Cecilia turned on her heel and left the dim room, only giving a short glance back over her shoulder.
Sam carefully closed the door and bent over the man in the bed. “Kenny,” he whispered, resting a hand on Ken’s forehead and brushing hair out of his eyes. “Kenny, wake up and listen to me. I need to talk to you.”
For a long moment there wasn’t a sound. Ken didn’t stir and Sam had to place a hand on his chest to even ensure he was breathing. Panic rose in Sam’s throat and he was about to pry open one of Ken’s eyelids to check his pupils when Ken’s eyes flew open of their own accord.
“Want,” Ken growled, his voice deep and low and not at all like normal. “Give. Gimme. Want.” He reached up for Sam and seized the lapels of Sam’s white coat.
Sam found himself dragged nearly all the way onto the small gurney by strength he didn’t know Ken possessed, and then Sam was being kissed and licked and nipped until his own head was reeling.
He was also getting turned on, because this was Ken and Sam always wanted Ken, but somewhere in the back of Sam’s mind, he had a feeling that this was all being planned out for him. It was too perfect, they were too isolated and alone and it was way too quiet.
And Sam knew something - or someone - was keeping him from Blake.
He pushed Ken back down to the bed and managed to slide off. “I’m sorry,” he said to Ken, feeling true regret. “I promise I’ll be back to take care of you. I promise.” The guilt over the fact that it was probably too late to take care of Ken raised its niggling head, but Sam ignored it and backed toward the door anyway. “I’m sorry, Kenny.”
Sam opened the door and moved as quickly as he dared toward Blake’s room.
To be continued...