Page 1 of Unraveling Connections

Chapter One

Ever

Irush to Luc’s side, checking his pulse, my heart going a mile a fucking minute, “He has a pulse, and his breathing is fine. Someone call an ambulance.”

“On it,” Peter says, the panic in his voice prominent.

“Don’t touch the file. He seemed to think that there was something on it that triggered this.” Atlas orders.

“What?” Alaric barks and I turn to see him on the phone, his eyes are frantic, but they gradually calm at whatever is being said. “Got it.”

“Who was that?” Trick asks as he paces while on his crutches.

“Luc is going to be fine. We should still take him to the hospital just in case, but he should be okay.” Alaric replies.

“Explain,” I ask with more bite than I intended.

“That was the guys that took the intruder. They said that he was quite chatty, and he had told them that he was told to wear gloves when he handled the files because they were coated in something that can make a person pass out; there is no lasting damage. It’s just so that the person cannot get away with the files and can be caught in the act before they do.” Alaric explains.

My body relaxes somewhat, but it won’t relax completely until I know that he is definitely okay. “You better be fucking right.”

“That’s what he said, Ever, and he has no reason to lie. He had no idea that we had already found it,” Alaric replies.

Peter comes rushing back into the room, “The ambulance is outside, they are heading in now. It's an organization one, so they have been briefed properly.”

“Good work, thanks, man,” Trick says as the paramedics rush into the room.

“Don’t touch his hands, before he passed out, he was fairly certain that it was something that he touched that caused the reaction, and there’s no telling whether it's still on his hands.” Atlas warns them.

They both nod; they have already got gloves on, and they make a concerted effort to make sure that they don’t touch his hands as they put him on a stretcher and take him out of the room.

“Ever, you go with him,” Trick orders, “we’ll grab the folder and meet you at the hospital.”

I nod, but I don’t bother replying as I rush after them. I am focused and calm, at least on the outside. I know that I'm going to freak the fuck out when I know for sure that he is okay; that is my general rule, freak out after the incident, not during.

The paramedics don’t bat an eyelash as I hop in the back; I start to reach for his hand in order to hold it before I rememberthat would be a terrible idea and land me in the same situation as Luc.

“It might be a good idea to bag his hands or something; I have no idea if there is enough poison on his hands that it can be transferable to someone else still, and the last thing we need is one of the doctors going down as well,” I explain.

“You got it Ever,” one of them replies and they make quick work of putting bags over his hands and making sure that they are secured in place properly.

I nod in reply; that is probably my capacity for talking until I know for sure that he is okay.

As we drive, I intently watch his chest to make sure that he is breathing, and that it doesn’t seem laborious or like he’s struggling. I don’t know if it is more worrying that he just appears to be in a deep sleep than if there was something visibly wrong. As we pull up to the organization’s hospital, I am forever grateful that we have so many of these spread throughout the country and, in fact, the world. Although, in some places, it's less conspicuous for us to have a section of an existing hospital, than it would be for us to have an entire building.

I am aware that my mind is distracting itself, but I’m also aware that it’s what I need right now in order to cope with what is happening to Luc.

They quickly whisk him into the hospital, and I run alongside them. Fortunately, no one tries to tell me that I can’t be with him; I don’t think I would be able to handle that right now. I do, however, make sure that I stay out of the way and let them work; I know that if I get in the way, they won’t hesitate to make me leave. I also make sure to tell them what Alaric said about the poison.

They take his blood, swab his hands, clean them thoroughly, and then go through all the usual checks. Finally, they are done, and the doctor comes to talk to me.

“We are still waiting for results on the swab and blood test, obviously, but I can tell you that he doesn’t appear to be in any distress. His heartbeat and breathing pattern are both normal, and there is no sign of anything untoward, if I didn’t know better then I would just assume that he was asleep.” He explains.

“Is that good?” I ask, frowning and trying not to fidget with my hands since that would be a big giveaway for just how hard my anxiety is riding me right now.

The doctor pulls a face, “I don’t know; if what Alaric said is right, then I would have assumed that he would have woken up by now. He may be having a reaction to whatever the poison is, that could mean that he is going to stay asleep for longer than was suggested. We are monitoring him closely, and if anything changes, we will let you know immediately. For now, it’s just a waiting game. I have put a rush on the bloodwork and poison analyses, so hopefully, we should get some more answers then. We don’t want to wake him up or introduce anything to his system unless we really have to because we have no idea what effect it could have on the poison.”

I nod, although my mind is racing, and panic is once again trying to rise, “That makes sense. Will you know if it starts to have a negative effect on him? Not just making him sleep?”

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