Date: Sun, 14 Jan 1996 12:36:19 -0500 Reply-To: shannara@TWAVE.NET Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Kim Sefcik Subject: "'Til Death Do Us Part" (Part 07/13) CHAPTER 7 Emergency Room 11:17am Richie's bike squealed to a stop in front of the hospital. He didn't think that he'd be coming back here so soon, but he needed to talk to Joe... not to mention that he was concerned for his old friend. Richie parked his battered motorcycle in front of the ER and proceeded in through the sliding doors. The hospital was a bustle of activity. He couldn't walk two feet without someone crossing his path or brushing up beside him. He finally managed to find the nurses station and cleared his throat audibly. "Oh, sorry," the young, attractive blond nurse said, looking up from the computer terminal. "What can I do for you?" "I'm looking for a Joe Dawson, he was brought in early this morning." The nurse typed something into her computer and turned back to Richie, "There is a Joe Dawson listed, but I'm afraid that he can't take any visitors right now." "I *really* need to speak with him -- it's literally a matter of life and death," Richie insisted. The nurse clearly wasn't going to change her position. "I'm sorry, but it says that he's in serious but stable condition and that he's not to take any visitors." "There must be some way --" Richie began but was cut off by a voice from the side. "Richie?" said Anne, coming down the hallway with a clipboard and some files in her arms. "Richie what are you doing here?" "He's here to see Joe Dawson, Doctor," the nurse interrupted, "I told him that he can't but --" "Joe?" Anne exclaimed, putting her reports down on the counter, and guiding Richie closer to her, "what happened, Richie?" "Mike called be this morning, and told me that Joe'd been attacked." Richie said, the worry obvious in his voice. Still looking at Richie, Anne said to the nurse, "What room is he in?" "Room One-oh-four, Doctor, but --" the nurse never had time to finish her sentence, as Anne had taken Richie by the arm and was leading him down the corridor towards room 104. "Here it is," she said, turning the brass handle and entering the room. The room was made for several people, but Joe was the only present occupant. A TV graced the far wall, up near the ceiling, and some Venetian blinds allowed a dim amount of sunlight to shine into the pastel room. Joe lay in the bed closest to the window, and had several tubes attached to various parts of his body, including his nose. As Richie approached he could tell that Joe was breathing on his own, but a respirator nearby told him that had'd been the case until recently. "Joe?" Anne crooned softly. "Joe, you awake?" Joe groaned and opened an eye. Seeing who it was he opened his other eye and grunted a welcome. "Anne, Richie? Come to visit the invalid?" Joe joked, trying to keep a touch of humor in his voice. Anne leaned up against the wall opposite from Joe while Richie grabbed a stool and straddled it, plopping down next to the Watcher. "Hey, Joe. Mike tells me that you got beat up pretty badly." Joe grunted, "That's what the damn doctors say... oh, sorry Anne," Joe grinned, "but I've been through worse," Joe took a meaningful glance down at his artifical legs. "Just a couple of cracked ribs, I'll be up and around in no time." "Just be glad it wasn't a cracked skull," Richie grinned. "Now you know that wouldn't have even fazed me Rich," Joe joked, "I've gotta say though, it's times like these when I'd rather be an Immortal than just a Watcher... I *hate* hospital food." Richie's expression turned serious, "Joe, I -- Mike told me about the beheadings... if an Immortal *is* killing Watchers and then stealing the Chronicles, they musta been coming after you for Duncan's Chronicles. Are you going to warn Mac?" "No." After seeing Richie's surprised expression, he took a breath and added, "Mac's still in Europe, and this Watcher killer is here in Seacouver --" "Where?" Richie interrupted. Joe gave him a puzzled look, "What?" "You said 'Seacouver' where's that?" "Oh, sorry, I meant Seattle... anyway, I don't think that MacLeod is in any immediate danger." Joe cast a meaningful look at Richie. "But I think that you are." "Me?" "Yea, or have you forgotten that I double as your Watcher? I have your Chronicles, too." "But I thought that Mike..." "Naw, Mike's more of an intern -- Anyway, I don't think that you're in any immediate danger, though I'd be careful considering what happened yesterday. This Immortal doesn't seem to care much about the Rules, and probably won't hesitate to kill young and weak Immortals. And with access to your Chronicles, they'll know just about everything there is to know about you." "I can take care of myself, Joe," Richie said with mock offence, and then remembered something, "Joe, speaking of young, do you know an Immortal named Michelle Webster?" "Yea, Mac ran into her last year, she's been training with Amanda last I heard, why?" "When I stopped off at Mac's last night, she had dropped in uninvited," Richie grinned, "Apparently, Amanda's been teaching her some bad habits." "Trust Amanda to --" Joe broke off as a couching fit gripped him. Anne jumped forward, "No, I'll be okay Anne." Joe reassured her. "Okay, but I'm coming right back to check on you," Anne glanced at Richie, with a look that plainly said he'd been here long enough. Richie caught her look and nodded... he was beginning to catch onto subtle things like that. As he flipped his chair around and was getting ready to leave, Richie looked down at his old Watcher friend, and realized for the first time just how old Joe was getting. After all Joe was mortal, and Richie was Immortal. Eventually Joe grow old and die, and Richie didn't want to face that. These years with Duncan had been the best of his life, and it all seemed to be passing with the blink of an eye. Joe closed his eyes and sighed. The light caught his beard, making it look more grey than silver, and Richie felt a tinge of guilt... why should he be Immortal? Of all the people in the world, why should Richard Ryan, ex thief, be given the gift of eternal life, and not someone like Joe, who was, in Richie's eyes, much more deserving. For once in his life, Richie was beginning to understand the pain that MacLeod must have suffered in his four hundred year life span. "Richie?" Anne repeated, her eyes reaching Richie's with an expectant look. "Yea, Anne, let's go." Richie said with a guilty sigh, "Thanks Joe, I appreciate it." "Anytime, Rich." Joe said without opening his eyes. Richie and Anne quietly shut the door behind them. Kim Sefcik Watcher-in-training Richie Reservist Internet: shannara@twave.net shannara@ravenwood.com | "I am Richie Ryan of the clan . . . wait, /~\ can we try that again?" @xxxxx| (|===============================- \____/\_/ "Being blind, you would wish all others blind | as well." -- Cleante, "Tartuffe" =========================================================================