My Split Conference

It hurt.

No one can imagine what a bullet feels like when it rips through your flesh like a missile plunging into your skin as if it were homing in on the one place that it would hurt the most.

It felt like a piece of a metal was ripping through tissue and bone, shattering everything into pieces through its destructive path, leaving only blood and mangled flesh in its wake.

A door on the ground floor opened immediately, and the building manager already had a phone in his hand to call the ambulance with a towel in the other.

He kneeled down to one of the bodies, using his slightly damp towel to shove it over the bleeding gunshot wound on one of the men. Blood was everywhere it seemed, and the sounds were something he would never forget.

The morning had started out normal enough for the building manager, Sid Allen. He had risen early with his middle-aged wife, who was still making sure their teenager daughter was eating her breakfast. He had been in the shower.

And then the five bangs had sounded through the air.

Sid thought about it even now, face sweaty and damp from his shower. Real gunshots sounded fake; they sounded like quick blasts of mini-sonic booms that didn’t sound like they did in the movies.

And the injuries sustained in reality were much scarier.

"Look, it’s going to be okay," Sid said, anxiety rising in his throat with the bile of seeing so much blood and torn flesh. "Ambulance is on the way." He ripped the dirty blindfold from the man’s mouth and shoved the gag away from his throat.

Sid immediately wished he hadn’t. The startled blue eyes were terrified as the man on the floor looked around him. A scream tore loose from the man’s throat.

"Calm down," Sid said desperately. "They’re on the way; you’ll be okay."

The man seemed to convulse a bit, blood dripping from his mouth. "Get him first. Please, take care of him."

Sid still didn’t move; the wound he currently shoved the crimson-shaded towel on had looked to be the worst out of what he had seen.

Blissfully, ten minutes later, a literal pack of EMT’s shoved their way into the hallway, knocking Sid to the side to get to the victims.

Sid watched as those frightened blue eyes never left his, even as they wheeled the unknown man out of the apartment building.

"Sid, what’s going on?" his wife asked as he entered, still holding the blood-soaked towel. She looked at it, and shooed away their teenager daughter.

Sid only shook his head, still grasping the towel. It wasn’t something he’d forget, the two bound men in the hallway. It wasn’t something he didn’t think he could burn from his memory even now.

His wife only held the trashcan forward to throw the blood-soaked towel away in.

XXXXXXX

When Perry awoke, he opened his eyes to harsh, florescent lighting. The next thing he realized was that he couldn’t see JD. He made to get up immediately even as sharp pain flashed through him like lightening.

The next instinctive action that happened came about because of his wrists and ankles being restrained to the hospital bed.

Even as his mind went into millions of directions (they were out; where the hell was Thomas; was JD okay? What about Jordan? What the hell was going on?), the only thought that managed to shove its way into action was finding JD.

He raged against the restraints, embarrassment flooding his body when he realized someone had stripped his clothing and his wounds had been visible to someone. Had someone inspected…?

Perry yelled out as loudly as he could, yanking hard at the restraints. "Someone get me out of these things!"

A sudden wave of pain had him collapsing back on the bed as a nurse entered the room with a doctor.

Blinking his wet eyes against the hard pain he felt shooting through his right arm and wrist, he turned his gaze down to it. It was bandaged and nearly impossible to tell what had happened.

The rational part of his mind reminded him that there had been five bangs in the air.

The irrational part of his mind only wanted to find JD and make sure the kid was okay.

Another wave of horror washed over him; what about Jordan?

Finally, a familiar face came above him. Elliot peered at him, her face white and drawn as she filled a needle.

"Barbie, you’ll listen," Perry said thankfully.

Elliot didn’t say anything as she held his arm down to inject his IV with a sedative.

"Barbie, listen to me! Where the hell is JD? Tell me, where the hell is he?" Perry struggled to jerk away from her hold.

Elliot jerked back as the needle slipped from Perry’s IV. She sighed. "Dr. Cox, don’t make me get an orderly.

"Like hell you will! Where the fuck is he? Quit screwing with me; where the hell is JD?" he roared back at her, still struggling to pull one of his arms from the restraints.

Reluctantly, Elliot turned and nodded at a bulky orderly standing outside of the door.

White terror whipped through Perry unexpectedly, and his stomach rolled warningly as the orderly entered the room.

"Don’t let him touch me; just let me out of here!" he yelled, a note of terrified desperation changing his voice completely.

Elliot bit her lip hard when the orderly pinned Perry’s chest down easily.

Perry’s yelling became incoherent screaming then as Elliot finally approached him and injected the sedative.

Perry jerked wildly beneath the orderly, and tried kicking his legs. Another whip of pain flashed through his left shin at that, and blinded him temporarily to all senses. God, he really was drowning this time; JD wasn’t there anymore, not there to touch, not there to tell him it was going to be okay…he was drowning, he couldn’t breathe and all they wanted to do was hold him down again, and where the hell was Thomas because he still had a knife and a gun, and he was going to hurt someone.

When the pain had faded though, the sedative had begun to do its job, and he only sent another desperate look in Elliot’s direction before his head rolled back to the pillow in unconsciousness.

Elliot threw the needle away with her gloves and rubbed her face hard to try and compose herself. She grasped her elbows hard as she left the room with the orderly.

XXXXXXXX

JD didn’t open his eyes when he woke up for fear of what he’d see. Everything, including consciousness, seemed to be just hovering about a thin layer of foggy sleep. It made him feel groggy, and a distant part of his mind told him he was under a sedative.

That did make him open his eyes, and when he did, his screams caught in his throat.

For one, he was restrained, and he really didn’t like that idea. The next thing he noticed was that Perry was nowhere to be found.

He liked that even less, and couldn’t reach for a call button.

"Help me!" JD yelled as loudly as he could, throat sore and chest aching. His body felt like someone had torched it, and the point of origins for the fire were centered in his left ankle and the right side of his lower torso.

He noticed the white, sterile bandages that were wrapped around his arms and entire upper body then too. He went to lift his hands again, but still found them bound to the bed.

JD yelled out again, this time not bothering for words. Fear made him nauseous, and he jerked at the restraints again, looking around wildly for Perry.

"Bambi, quiet down! They’ll put you under again if you don’t stop that," Carla admonished, but there was no real rancor to her tone. She looked scared, more then anything, and began to reach a hand out to JD’s face.

JD shoved back into the pillows away from her, glaring at her desperately. "Where’s Perry?"

A wild scream filled the air outside of JD’s room, and JD started yanking harder at the restraints.

"Bambi, calm down! Stop it, JD!" Carla struggled to keep JD’s shoulders to the bed without aggravating the two wounds in his side.

Thoughts of Jordan sprang to his head next, and he struggled to crane his head out the door.

A doctor JD didn’t recognize filled the doorway though and came in.

"Hold him still!" the doctor snapped.

JD struggled harder against the smaller nurse, but couldn’t lift his arms strongly enough to make it difficult. That had been Perry screaming; was someone hurting him again? He struggled harder and more frantically as horror entered his system and took his breath away in a sea of lost fright and hopelessness. God damn it, didn’t they understand; someone was hurting the only thing that was anchoring him down to sanity; he had to help him.

Carla shoved her upper body against JD’s shoulders, breathing hard as the flailing body beneath her slowed its frantic movements.

As Carla exited JD’s hospital room with a heavy, stricken heart, she looked for Turk, who still hadn’t exited surgery. She sighed heavily, and leaned her head against the counter.

Elliot joined her a moment later, her face still drawn with tension and her cheeks stained with tears.

"He didn’t like being held down," Elliot said quietly.

"That makes two of them," Carla muttered. "How’s Dr. Cox?"

"Sedated. He looked awful, Carla." Elliot ran a hand through her hair and stood straight. "Is Turk out of…?"

"No, not yet. I haven’t heard anything from upstairs yet either," Carla replied quietly. "Elliot, you should sit down. It’s not going to make her come out of surgery any faster if you walk around like this."

Elliot shook her head numbly. "I can’t just…do nothing." She sighed again. "You have JD’s x-rays yet?"

Carla leaned over the counter and plucked a manila folder from beside the computer. She handed it to Elliot.

Elliot whipped out the plastic sheets and grimaced. "That’s going to be a real bender of PT."

Carla inspected the ankle x-ray with crossed arms as she tried to make an objective remark. She still knew that Elliot was correct though.

"What about the one he took to the side?"

"We won’t know until he goes in for exploratory surgery," Elliot replied. "Dr. Wen’s on his way to pick him up."

As if on cue, the Asian surgeon exited the elevator with a few nurses in tow. "Is he still stable?"

Elliot nodded and gestured to JD’s room. "Dr. Wen…do you know how Miss Sullivan’s surgery is going?"

Dr. Wen gave her a look that was deliberately unreadable. "It’s going," he finally said after a moment, and entered JD’s room.

JD looked up at the ceiling blearily as another doctor entered the room. He felt hands touching his arms, and immediately felt his skin begin to crawl. His mouth couldn’t form coherent words though, and the only thing that escaped were a series of hoarse groans lined with tears.

"You’re going up for surgery, Dr. Dorian," Dr. Wen said evenly. "We have to extricate the bullet and make sure it didn’t do any irreparable damage to the important plumbing."

JD struggled to ask for Perry again, and tilted his head to the side. He thought he saw Elliot and Carla’s stricken faces, but couldn’t read them. His eyes flickered from room to room as he headed for the elevator.

He thought he saw Perry’s still body through a window, but then a nurse had a mask over his face and he didn’t remember anything as dreams of Perry fading to a twisted half-mummy filled his nightmares.

XXXXXXXX

When Perry awoke again, the room’s lights had been flipped out. He looked around the room, struggling to curb panic and nausea as he, once again, didn’t see JD anywhere.

Sitting in a chair just a few feet from the bed was Elliot. He glared in her direction, willing her to wake up with his stare. His head hurt vaguely from the sedative, and the sluggishness hadn’t quite faded. Neither had the outright fear of being alone with anyone except JD, but Perry clenched his teeth against it.

His wrists and ankles were still restrained, and he could discern the steady beep of a heart monitor this time. He jerked at the restraints, a metal clink sounding as he did so. He continued to glare at the sleeping blonde.

It had always worked with JD in the bathroom.

Elliot didn’t stir though.

Perry jerked harder at the restraints, making the railings of the bed clink hard against the bed frame.

This time, Elliot jerked awake and stood up, straightening her blouse and slacks. Her lab coat was draped over the back of her chair and she approached the bed slowly, hands held up.

"I’m not going to hurt you," she finally said quietly after a minute.

Perry glared at her, but the embarrassment was evident in his face. He didn’t speak to her and only let the look slide into desperate question.

"He’s fine," Elliot finally said after a moment. "He’s just come out of surgery about twenty minutes though, so he’s still out."

Perry closed his eyes hard, chest hurting at the news. He hadn’t expected how hard it would ache, and he still didn’t speak to Elliot. He jerked at the bonds again and looked at her again.

"I can’t," Elliot finally said after a moment. "You attacked an orderly; it’s mandatory until the attending psychologist clears you."

Perry glared at her and jerked harder. He finally raised his hand a few scant inches to point at the door.

"I can’t take you to see him either," Elliot muttered reluctantly. "He needs rest and so do you."

Elliot gave a confused look when he frowned at her oddly. She wasn’t sure she understood the look, or the hand gesture he gave her either.

"Look, I’ll get the attending psychologist. She’ll talk to you a little about taking the restraints off." She gave a weak, ghostly smile. "If you promise not to attack anyone else, anyway."

Perry watched as Elliot turned. When Turk had walked past the window, however, Elliot fairly bolted from the room.

Elliot made the hurried phone call for the psych consult, and then ran up to Turk and jerked on his green scrubs top.

Turk turned, his shirt stained with blood and his face impassive.

"Well?"

"We won’t know until she wakes up," Turk replied quietly, and headed for his next surgical consult.

"That’s it? What happened? What’s going on, Turk?" Elliot snapped at him, frustrating hitting her system harder then she had thought it would.

Carla caught her sleeve. "Elliot, don’t…"

"You just spent three hours in surgery and all you can say is to wait for when she wakes up?"

Turk finally faced her and caught her arms. "Elliot, I don’t know. I just operate. Look, we got the bullet out, but we don’t know what kind of damage’s been done to her spinal cord and neck. We won’t know until she wakes up; you’re a doctor. You know everything that can go wrong." He looked at her seriously. "How’s JD?"

"He’s out of surgery," Elliot said after a moment. "Still sleeping."

Turk nodded shortly, his stomach clawing at him as he recalled working in the surgical room on Jordan’s neck. They’d finally dug the bullet from her lower spinal cord, and he remembered looking at the ugly metal thing as the ER surgeon had pulled it out.

Turk hadn’t been able to look at it since, and flipped open his consult’s chart. Worry and concern for JD were eating at him.

He hadn’t had the chance to speak to Dr. Wen yet, but he hadn’t yet received the feeling that it was as life threatening as Jordan’s wound had been.

Carla crossed her arms and looked into Perry’s room. "I’m going to go in and check on Dr. Cox."

"He wouldn’t talk to me," Elliot said quietly. "He just kept looking at me with different faces and making hand gestures."

Carla frowned at that. "Maybe he’ll talk to me." She brushed past Elliot and quietly entered Perry’s room. "Dr. Cox?"

Perry looked up at the familiar face, but it wasn’t the one he wanted to see. He closed his eyes and let his head roll to the side.

"How are you feeling?" Carla inspected the frown sent her way, and Perry jerked at the restraints to twist his fingers oddly. "Was it bad?"

Perry glared at her in exasperation; what the hell did she think? He kept his eyes shut and clenched his fists tightly. Christ; couldn’t anyone just understand he wanted to see JD for himself?

He jerked when a soft hand brushed his forehead. He jerked away and opened panicked eyes before he could stop the fear from entering his face.

Carla felt similar to when JD had done much the same thing and backed away. Something huge had gone down; she wondered if it had anything to do with the fact he wouldn’t speak anymore.

Carla opened the door and left as a middle-aged woman entered Perry’s room.

"Hello, Dr. Cox," she said quietly, and pulled up a chair as she flipped on the light.

Perry squeezed his shut eyes tightly against the sudden light, and nausea hit his stomach with a sudden strength that nearly had him puking all over the newest doctor to see him.

"You may not remember me; I work a couple of floors up," she went on in a kind sort of voice. "I’m Dr. Taylor."

Perry looked at her with opened eyes now and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to talk to me? We’ll only keep you longer if you don’t."

Perry gestured to his injured arm with a roll of his eyes. He made a gun motion with his hand and raised two fingers.

"Yes, you were shot twice." Dr. Taylor looked over his chart. "In the left shin and right wrist." She closed the chart. "Before you stopped talking, you kept asking for someone named JD. Were you referring to John Dorian?"

Perry debated a minute, and finally nodded after a moment. It wouldn’t hurt to play the torture victim, especially if it meant they’d let him into JD’s room. His skin still crawled, and he already had the horrible feeling that it would only go away if he could touch the kid again and really make sure he was okay.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to play the torture victim, and a part of him wanted to freak out over that.

"So you were held with him for a long time, huh?" Dr. Taylor went on casually.

Perry didn’t respond to that and let his eyes drift pointedly to the door.

"Why did you attack the orderly, Perry?" Dr. Taylor found herself pinned with a glare at the use of his name. "Alright, Dr. Cox then. Why did you attack the orderly?"

Perry jerked at the restraints deliberately.

"But he was only holding you down so that Dr. Reid could give you a painkiller. You nearly broke his jaw, Dr. Cox."

Perry gave a frustrated glare and pulled again with his uninjured wrist.

"Did your abductor do this to your arms, Dr. Cox?"

Perry snorted at her finally, his patience thin and his worry catching up to him. He let his head fall back to the sheets and roll away from her gaze.

Dr. Taylor sighed and watched him for a few more minutes. The fingers of his left hand never ceased to move, constantly tapping or stroking at the sheets. She jotted the note down, and crossed her arms over the chart.

"Are you going to talk to me at all?"

Perry looked at her with a questioning gaze that held a tinge of mockery to it.

Dr. Taylor cocked her head to the side, and finally stood to leave the room. She shut the door behind her, and inspected her notes. She wasn’t going to get anything else from the man for the night, and she knew the other victim was still asleep.

"Who saw Dr. Dorian when he first came to?" Dr. Taylor finally asked.

Carla looked in her direction. "That would be me. Why?"

Dr. Taylor pulled Carla towards JD’s room, slipping the younger man’s chart over Perry’s.

"Did he speak much?"

"Before I gave him a sedative, he had asked for Dr. Cox, and then I couldn’t understand him."

Dr. Taylor nodded, thoughts running through her eyes but not over her face. "I heard there was a small amount of photo evidence of their captivity?"

Carla shrugged, not sure where her place was for that question. "They were captured together, yes. I think Dr. Cox or Dr. Dorian might talk more if they could interact with each other first. I think they’re just worried about each other."

"Based upon what?"

"They’re my friends; I think I know them."

Dr. Taylor shrugged it off with a wave of her hand that Carla was familiar with from the doctors.

"Keep Dr. Cox restrained," Dr. Taylor finally said after a moment. "I wasn’t able to get out of him whether he had inflicted his own injuries or not. If Dr. Dorian presents a danger to anyone around him or himself, keep the restraints on him as well." Dr. Taylor signed both charts and plopped them into Carla’s hands without another word as she walked off.

Sighing, Carla felt like someone had wrapped her hands into knots behind her back as she relayed the orders to an oncoming night nurse. Then she set out to look for Turk.

She found him in JD’s room unsurprisingly, and gently slipped her hands over his tight shoulders.

"I should’ve known."

Carla sighed. "You couldn’t have. And he’s been stable for a couple of hours. Did you talk to Dr. Wen?"

Turk nodded. "The bullet in his side didn’t hurt anything major, but they had a lot of trouble getting it out. His rib was broken where the bullet was at, though Dr. Wen said it wasn’t because of the slug."

Carla nodded behind him, inspecting JD’s thin, pale face. It was covered in random bruises, and a few scratches along his cheeks. Perry had looked no better, if not worse.

"I should’ve known it wasn’t him."

"You can’t keep feeling sorry for yourself."

"And if Cox had known better, he would’ve protected him."

"You did not just go there," Carla hissed at him, conscious of JD’s sleeping state. She jerked him by his ear into the hallway. "Have you seen Dr. Cox’s condition? He looked worse then Bambi in some places."

"He should’ve protected him."

"Like you were supposed to?" Carla snapped at him. Turk flinched. "Just because you couldn’t protect him doesn’t mean it was Perry’s job to do it."

"You don’t get it, baby." Anger had Turk’s fists clenching at his side. "JD looks up to him like some sort of hero; he worships the guy. Cox should’ve done something to prevent this."

"Did it occur to you that maybe neither of them could do anything?"

"He should’ve done something…anything." Turk pushed her hand away when she reached for him and stalked down the hallway.

Carla sighed, and went in search of Elliot instead. She found her standing outside of Jordan’s room. Inside were Danni, Jack, with Jordan’s mother sitting by the bed.

Jack was sound asleep in Danni’s lap, and Jordan’s mother was holding her daughter’s hand tightly.

"Why aren’t you in there?" Carla asked quietly beside of Elliot.

Elliot jumped, holding her elbows tightly. "I…uh…" She cleared her scratchy throat and blinked away her worried tears. "It’s her family’s time. Not mine."

"She’s going to be mad at you if you weren’t in there."

Elliot laughed bitterly at that and re-folded her lab coat over her arm. "No. She won’t be. She’d be mad at me if I was." Elliot turned and walked away from Carla.

Carla blew a frustrated sigh in front of her. Had everyone gone nuts or was it just her?

Still, she didn’t buy Dr. Taylor’s version of the events with Perry one bit. There had been something underlying his odd gestures and facial features, but Carla hadn’t been able to decipher them. She also didn’t believe for a second that Perry had done any of this to himself.

"Hey, Janitor," Carla suddenly called.

Janitor looked up at her, customary question on his face when someone addressed him. "So I don’t have a name to the nurses either now?"

"Cut the crap. Can I get a favor?"

"What’s in it for me?"

Carla thought for a minute with a frown. "What do you want?"

"A fin."

"What?"

"Well, Angry doc said he couldn’t give me gills, so I figured a nurse could give me a fin."

Carla gave him a look that clearly said that he was weird. "Uh…no. Come on, Janitor…it’s important."

Janitor sighed. "Fine. You go squirrel-hunting with me next weekend."

Carla wrinkled her nose, but shook his hand. "Fine. Just make sure no one comes down this hallway or near Bambi’s room."

Janitor nodded sagely, holding his mop up like a pike when Carla had left.

Carla snagged a spare wheelchair and quietly entered Perry’s room. "Dr. Cox? It’s Carla."

Perry looked at her, frustration lining his eyes and his lips drawn tight in silence.

"Don’t give me that look. I don’t know what went on, but I’m going to take you to see Bambi for a minute."

Perry raised an eyebrow, wondering what kind of prank this was. Maybe it was simply a ploy to get him into the psych ward of the hospital.

"Come on." She reached to help him out of the bed, noting that he still jerked when she touched his wrists to gently untie the restraints. "You’re lucky. They’re going to have my job if they catch me. I’ve got Janitor guarding the hallway."

Perry raised a hand in question, but Carla didn’t tell him how she’d managed it. Sighing hard, he reluctantly allowed Carla to help him into the wheel chair. It was a sloppy, messy job, but he was hard-pressed to be grateful.

Carla’s hands were cold, and made him want to shrink away from everything to fall away from himself. His chest ached though, and his fingers tingled without the contact he was so used to having with JD.

Carla pushed him down the hallway and leaned her head down to Perry’s ear. "Keep your head down though, just in case."

Perry jerked his head away from the breath he felt rolling down his ears, and bent his head forward. He watched the tiles along the floor, noting the dirty, grimy look of them.

It seemed no matter how much Janitor washed the floors, they were still dingy.

The floor made a turn as Carla opened a door.

Carla jumped at the sudden slump of unknown emotion that came from Perry’s shoulders when he was in eye-line of JD’s sleeping figure. He turned his head up to look at her.

When she didn’t leave, he jerked his head toward the door.

Carla bit her lip reluctantly. "I’ll turn my back. You know I can’t leave you two alone."

Perry shrugged. It was close enough, he supposed, and he just wanted her away before he broke again. When he was sure she couldn’t see, Perry pulled himself with his good hand towards JD’s bed.

JD felt something touching his face gently. Coolish fingers and clean skin. He opened his eyes slowly in the darkness, and immediately focused on Perry’s face.

Perry didn’t smile at him, but the relief and tears were clear in his facial expression. He gave JD a thumbs-up.

JD broke into a sob, realizing that they really were out of that stupid house, out of that godforsaken tub, and not lost in the middle of nowhere. He choked again on his tears, and shakily raised his hand to give the expected okay sign.

Perry leaned his head into the blanket as JD’s hand slipped into his good one. The relief was almost touchable, and he suddenly felt like his entire being hadn’t been smashed into a million, irreparable pieces. The contact was back, and the room was dark.

As long as it stayed that way, it was still safe.

Carla watched quietly from the corner as Perry’s shoulders silently shook against the bed; JD’s cries audible. That was when she frowned though as Perry’s head finally lifted.

Perry pointed to his hand and then to his leg. Then he raised his hand back to JD.

JD rolled his shoulders back in that familiar gesture of being not great, but alive. Then he pointed to his ribs and down to his ankle under a restrained hand. He dipped his chin towards his ribs and clacked his teeth together.

Perry winced at that, and rubbed his head with a frown of exasperation.

It was an hour later when Carla was nervous enough to try and wheel Perry back to his room. The entire time, they hadn’t spoken a word. They had only exchanged wordless gestures and facial expressions that Carla hadn’t been able to decipher.

As far as she knew, neither man knew sign language (and even if they had, she didn’t know it either). She did watch as Perry’s hand never left JD’s.

Carla tapped Perry’s shoulder, and jumped when the man jerked at her touch. He glared at her, and then gave JD a look that had the kid smiling.

Perry shook his head to Carla, and turned back to JD’s face. He made a slashing motion across his arm suddenly, and then shook his head.

JD’s face grew fearful as it drained of color. They hadn’t found Thomas yet. He shivered under the blanket, still holding Perry’s hand in the darkness.

Carla reached forward. "You’ve got to get back to your room before I get in trouble, Dr. Cox. If you talk to the psychologist tomorrow, maybe she’ll let you come see him legally."

JD tapped Perry’s hand and shook his head quickly with his lips drawn tightly.

Perry suddenly nodded at that oddly and shrugged his shoulders differently then before, this time with more resignation.

"Come on, Dr. Cox." She pried Perry’s hand away from JD’s.

As she wheeled Perry from the room, his angry, hurt glares made her feel uncomfortable. It was made worse when she heard JD’s cries drifting out of the room.

As she helped Perry back into bed and restraints, she looked at him with red-lined eyes.

"What happened to you two?"

Perry only shrugged at her, and shut his eyes in a parody of sleep.

Continues with Chapter 11