11-27-2013, 09:08 PM
Jessika paced the hall outside his room. She looked in on every pass, but Jensen could offer her no relief no matter how earnestly he wished to ease her anxiety. A great reunion. 'Surprise! I'm alive. But, uh, I have to go to jail for murder now.'
Jensen swallowed and wished yet again that he was wearing more than a hospital gown. Somehow he managed to hold the detective's gaze throughout the duration of the questioning. He recognized he could keep silent or wait for legal representation, but he technically wasn't arrested yet, and he had nothing to hide. If anyone learned lessons about truth, it was definitely him. Except the white-haired bat-woman, the fact that he restored a dying kid's throat, and he was in CCD territory on an expired visa - apparently ten million dollars doesn't buy the extended program's version. Or, more likely, he was taken for all he was worth. They didn't teach black market negotiation skills in Sunday School. He'd had worse problems before - those things he intended to take to the grave.
The detective seemed satisfied, though Jensen was unable to guess which way that door swung; for good or for ill. The man called for the nurse, and a few minutes later, Jensen's bed was stretched flat, and his face covered with the shield of a brain scanner. The nurse injected some sort of bright tracer in his IV line and powered it up. Good luck explaining to the guys in jail why his urine was blue. Because that was the worst of his problems.
The scan was completed, and the nurse satisfied. She explained to the detective rather than Jensen that his clearance had to wait until the doctors read the results which could be - yes, it was back already. The recovery was complete, and he was discharged to go.
The detective called in the guard just as the nurse pulled out the catheter. From... down there. Jensen cringed like he'd never cringed before and when it was over, threw the blanket back across his legs. He couldn't bring himself to look at the cop. Suddenly, blue urine didn't seem so bad.
Pulling the IV line from his arm went much better. As did the release of the handcuff from the bed. He had just enough time to put feet to the cold floor and rub his freed arms before the looming mountain of the police officer filled him with the inevitable dread. It was too good to be true.
They officially put him in handcuffs and led him out. Jensen only prayed the gown was well tied back there. On the way, he threw Jessika an apologetic look, but she was already on the phone.
Jensen swallowed and wished yet again that he was wearing more than a hospital gown. Somehow he managed to hold the detective's gaze throughout the duration of the questioning. He recognized he could keep silent or wait for legal representation, but he technically wasn't arrested yet, and he had nothing to hide. If anyone learned lessons about truth, it was definitely him. Except the white-haired bat-woman, the fact that he restored a dying kid's throat, and he was in CCD territory on an expired visa - apparently ten million dollars doesn't buy the extended program's version. Or, more likely, he was taken for all he was worth. They didn't teach black market negotiation skills in Sunday School. He'd had worse problems before - those things he intended to take to the grave.
The detective seemed satisfied, though Jensen was unable to guess which way that door swung; for good or for ill. The man called for the nurse, and a few minutes later, Jensen's bed was stretched flat, and his face covered with the shield of a brain scanner. The nurse injected some sort of bright tracer in his IV line and powered it up. Good luck explaining to the guys in jail why his urine was blue. Because that was the worst of his problems.
The scan was completed, and the nurse satisfied. She explained to the detective rather than Jensen that his clearance had to wait until the doctors read the results which could be - yes, it was back already. The recovery was complete, and he was discharged to go.
The detective called in the guard just as the nurse pulled out the catheter. From... down there. Jensen cringed like he'd never cringed before and when it was over, threw the blanket back across his legs. He couldn't bring himself to look at the cop. Suddenly, blue urine didn't seem so bad.
Pulling the IV line from his arm went much better. As did the release of the handcuff from the bed. He had just enough time to put feet to the cold floor and rub his freed arms before the looming mountain of the police officer filled him with the inevitable dread. It was too good to be true.
They officially put him in handcuffs and led him out. Jensen only prayed the gown was well tied back there. On the way, he threw Jessika an apologetic look, but she was already on the phone.