Bigrig

Jonathan gasped, as he tried to roll over onto his right side. He had become sore, since Tony had helped him with his little problem that morning. The soreness had progressed throughout the day. Now he could barely move because of it.

"What gives, kid?" Tony asked, standing from the chair he had been sitting in.

"I can't move anymore... It hurts to much." Jonathan admitted.

"I better call Greg in here to look atchya." He went to the intercom on the wall calling to the desk.

"Can I help you?" a woman's voice came over the speaker.

"Yes, we need Dr. Carroll in here ASAP." Tony stated urgently.

"He's on his way." She returned.

And no sooner than she got the words out of her mouth, Greg was coming in through the door.

"What's wrong?" he went right to the bed.

"I can't move, doc. I think I hurt myself this morning." Jonathan winced, as he tried to sit up a little.

"What were you doing?" Greg asked then.

Jonathan avoided looking over at Tony. "I must've turned onto the wrong side in my sleep... I'm not really sure." He told the man.

"Let me have a look..." Greg pulled the covers back to reveal the problem right away. "You've torn some stitches, Jonathan. Did you stretch or tense at any time this morning?"

"I could have... I don't really remember..." The youth answered simply.

"Okay... I'm gonna have to check the rest of it too. So, take 'im down to x-ray, Tony. Let's just see what's goin' on in there." He ordered gently.

"Sure, doc..." Tony moved to the right side of the bed, letting the railing down, while Greg went to the intercom requesting a wheelchair for the youth.

Quickly, he and Tony were alone in the service elevator.

"Sorry, Tony..." Jonathan muttered.

"What for?" the man leaned down catching eye contact right away.

"I shouldn't have asked you to do that this morning." A tear slipped down his face.

"Are you in pain?" Tony asked surprised by his actions.

"A little...Well, yeah..." Jonathan looked away suddenly.

"Hey, Buck up, kid. You got what you wanted. You'll be fine, I'm sure of it..." Tony tried to cheer him up.

"Yeah, but I'd much rather be goin' home right now...not to x-ray. And you tried to tell me, but I wouldn't listen." He complained.

"Ah...It'll be ok. ... And, don't ask me to do that anymore. Not until yer healed well enough." The man teased. "My ass may be in a sling now, as it is."

Jonathan smiled faintly.

"Oh, that was some quick thinkin' too." The man praised standing straight as the elevator came to a stop.

"Yeah, I can see us getting' yelled at by you know who." The youth jested.

"Hmp..." Tony began to wheel him into the hallway. "I can make that stop." He joked.

Jonathan laughed, then grabbed his belly painfully. Sweat formed over his upper lip, as the pain became almost unbearable. "I don't think I want anymore for a while." He groaned leaning forward.

"Hey, you okay?" Tony stopped the chair, coming around him, to look into his paled grimace. "You don't look so good, kid." He commented then.

"It hurts, Tony..." Jonathan could barely say.

"Okay, let's get these pictures and get you back upstairs pronto." Tony stood beginning to push him at a hurried pace, down the hallway. As he rolled him into x-ray, the youth slumped forward. The man grabbed him by the hair, to keep him from falling into the floor. Locking the wheels of the chair, he gathered Jonathan in his arms putting him on the x-ray table.

"Doc needs a picture of his stomach." He began to pull the gown up while he spoke.

The x-ray tech moved quickly, seeing he had an urgent situation on his hands. The pictures were taken, while Tony called up to the fifth floor, talking to Greg over the phone about his condition. As soon as the x-rays were done, he took him back upstairs, arriving not long before the pics were brought up too.

"I gotta take him back into surgery. He tore his stomach, Tony. What in the hell did he do this morning?" Greg fussed now.

"I don't know, Greg." The man answered simply. "One minute we were talking, the next he was asleep. I was dozin' in the chair. So, whatever he did, he did it while I slept."

Greg eyed him curiously. "That's not like you, Tony. Are you slippin' on me?"

"No, man..." He sighed heavily then.

"Okay, what really happened? I know you better than this." The man watched, as Tony turned away obviously beating himself inside for something.

"I jerked 'im off, Greg." He admitted then.

"Damn, Tony..." Greg stood staring at him for a moment, then yanked the x-rays off the viewer. "You know better..." he grumbled tossing the films on the stainless steel table beneath the viewer.

"Yes, I do... But he was illin', man...beggin' me to relieve him. He had a boner from hell, dude. I... I know better..." He tried to reason with him. Then, he canned his excuses knowing he was wrong.

"Yer getting' too soft, Tony." Greg smiled.

"Yep...I think yer right." He turned away throwing a fist into his open hand. At the moment, he was so angry with himself for causing the kid more problems than he needed. If he had only followed his instincts, this wouldn't be happening to Jonathan.

"Well, your softness has cost him another surgery. I gotta prep..." Greg turned, leaving the room promptly.

This time Greg did a laproscopic repair of the damages. Using a small fiberoptic lighted tube with magnifying lenses, he repaired the tears in the stomach at the seams of the first surgery, from another tiny incision. This way it was less deleterious and would heal quicker, with less trauma to the tissues, abdomen and to Jonathan.

When he came out of surgery, Tony was waiting to wake him.

"Hey, kid..." he patted his face lightly. "...Open them eyes..."

Jonathan groaned, moving his face away.

"Hey, don't you avoid me, kid. Let me see those eyes." The man fussed playfully.

The youth's eyes fluttered open, slowly.

"That's it... You can sleep when you get back to the room. Just wake up for me." Tony was urgent.

"I'm awake, man..." Jonathan slurred.

"Yeah, right..." Tony half laughed.

"Got any water?" the youth requested, his mouth feeling so gummy.

"Not yet, kid... How 'bout some ice?" the man smiled gently.

"That'll work..." Jonathan muttered.

"Okay, stay right there... I'll get it..." Tony teased, as he stepped away from the gurney for a moment.

"Like I'm goin' anywhere..." Jonathan grumbled.

"Cute, kid..." the man filled a mug with crushed ice bringing it to him. He lifted some with his fingertips placing it on his lips. "Just let it melt into your mouth." He instructed.

Greg came in rushing to the bedside. "Okay, I guess I don't need to tell you what you can't do for a while, huh?"

"No... I know already..." Jonathan muttered.

"Good, cuz next time some heads are gonna roll." The man put a hand on his hip saying, as if in anger. "Alright, take 'im back up to his room." The man walked away, without another word to either of them the rest of the day.

*****

"Boy, he's pissed." Jonathan commented later that day.

"Why do you say that?" Tony stood from the chair asking.

"He ain't so much as darted in here all day. Usually he comes and goes." The youth spoke his mind.

"He'll get over it..." The man came to his bedside, checking everything. "Thirsty?"

"Yeah..." Jonathan tried to sit up.

"No, let me do that... You lie still..." He pushed a button, raising the bed for him. Jonathan leaned forward a little, so he could adjust the pillow. Tony then put the straw to the youth's lips, letting him drink what he could.

"I didn't mean to get us into so much trouble, Tony." He said, when he pushed the straw from between his lips.

"Don't sweat it, kid... You'll be fine...Anyway, it's more my fault than yours." The man smiled gently.

"Why?"

"Because, I knew better..." the man groaned displeasurably.

"I'm stuck here another week now. I just know it..." He complained.

"No, just another day or so." The man informed him.

"Really?" Jonathan perked a little.

"Yep... That's it... He did it with a laproscope... It's less traumatic... Most patients can go home the next day after, or even that day. It depends..." Tony set the mug on the table to his right.

"Good...I'm tired of this room." Jonathan complained.

"Then why don't you get some rest. Maybe when you wake up, you'll be goin' home." The man smiled again.

"Okay..." Jonathan rested his head back, while Tony lowered the bed again.

*****

Later that evening, Tony nudged Jonathan from his sleep. Not saying a word, he motioned his head toward the door silently. The youth nodded rolling onto his side very slowly. Lifting, then pushing on the railing, he lowered it sitting up. Easing his feet to the floor quickly, he grabbed the I.V. hanger, beginning to patter toward the door as fast as he could go.

Tony followed behind him quietly, watching him move with expediency out into the hallway and to the nurses' station. There he hid himself promptly.

"Good, Jonathan..." Tony smiled, giving him a hand as he came back out from under the counter. "Let's get you back to bed now." He lifted him in his arms, carrying him back to the room and to bed.

Once he had him tucked back in, he went to the window, where he peeked out through the curtain. Looking across the street at the building, he scanned it for anything suspicious. Then he glanced down at the parking lot to see if he could recognize anything or anyone from Arizona. Another glance at the building across the way, and he turned back to the bed looking at the patient silently for a moment.

He felt that old nagging that always came right before something bad would happen. So many times, this gut feeling had saved his life and the life of his ward. Now, it was strong and relentless, gnawing at him persistently.

"You seem a little tense t'night." Jonathan commented.

"I am... Just a feelin', I guess." He told the kid.

"Please, get me outta here." Jonathan rolled onto his right side, sitting up once more.

"No, no... You lay down..." Tony went to him urging him to lie down. "...Just rest for a while... Then we'll practice your escape again."

Jonathan nodded, allowing the man to cover his legs and hips. His eyes locked with the man's for a long moment. He then watched, as Tony reached under his white coat pulling out a police issue revolver from the shoulder holster. His eyes widened, realizing this man was preparing for the inevitable.

Tony checked to be sure, the weapon was loaded and ready. Then, he shoved it back into the shoulder holster. He stood over the youth, looking around the room again. That old uneasy feeling was becoming more annoying with time.

"Let's getchya outta here..." He gathered the youth in his arms, after he pulled the I.V. out of his forearm. Going to the door, he cracked it open, peeking out, before he moved with him down the hallway.

He heard the elevator bell, as he ducked into the conference room quickly. Leaving the lights off in the room, he took Jonathan to a closet where he sat him down in a chair that was being stored there. Silently, he put his finger to his lips. Jonathan nodded vigorously.

Tony closed the door, leaving him inside the closet. He stepped to the door, leaning his back to the wall beside it, listening intently. He could hear one of the nurses fussing at someone, about not going into a room. The man was insistent, it seemed, from what he could hear.

"Sir, no one is in there..." She persisted in telling him.

"Where's the kid, lady?" the man asked.

Tony recognized his voice. It wasn't the uncle. He had sent his henchman, Maurice.

"He was discharged not too long ago." She informed the man wisely. "Some guy came and took 'im home."

"Who?" the man seemed more urgent.

"I don't know..." She stated.

"Did he sign a discharge form?" the man insisted.

"Sir, that is privileged information. I can't tell you that. And I can't let you see the form either." She stated.

He heard the elevator bell again.

"Excuse me..." he caught another male voice then. "Sir, I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave..." The second male voice stated calmly.

"Alright, but the child's uncle is the only one that has legal right to him. All of you had best look for jobs." The hitman announced.

"Sir, the patient in question, is old enough to make his own decisions, now. His uncle has no legal rights to him whatsoever..." the Catherine grumbled.

Tony grinned at her audacity.

She's a bold lady...

he thought.

"Come along, sir..." The second man was saying at the same time.

Their voices disappeared. The elevator bell dinged again. But Tony didn't trust the man he heard arguing with the nurse. And the rental cop was now alone with him, which is something you just don't want to be with this guy.

Quickly and silently he rushed down to the station. "Leave the floor..." He ordered in a harsh whisper.

"But the patients..." one of them argued.

"If you value your lives, leave now. He's only after Jonathan. Everyone else will be fine... now, leave..." He kept his eye on the stairwell door, as he spoke. "Go...use the staff elevator... Hurry..." He went with them, ensuring they all got in safely and was on their way down to the ground floor.

Slowly, he eased back to the station, peeking around the corner, keeping his back to the wall as he went. The door of the stairwell was closing inertly. He was back on the floor. His senses told him this. And he probably killed the rental cop, with a silencer. Knowing this guy was thorough, he knew he would check every door, in every room, until he found Jonathan.

Sneaking past the room, Jonathan had been in, he rushed to the conference room, closing the door silently. Locking it, he raced to the closet opening it. As soon as he did, he put his hand over the youth's mouth pulling him to his feet. Gathering him up in his arms, he rushed to the door again.

There, he set him down on his feet, peeking out. The coast was clear, but he didn't trust it. Easing the door closed again, he locked it, leaning his back to the wall beside it. Not long after, someone tried the knob finding it locked. He put his hand to Jonathan's mouth again, just before he would have gasped or squealed. Taking him into his arms, he turned him, keeping the youth's back to him, and his hand over his mouth securely.

In the distance outside the window, he could hear sirens coming down the street. One of the nurses must have called it in. He then caught the sound of heavy footfall, like someone running down the hallway to get away. Still, he waited until he knew the floor was secured.

Jonathan stood there grasping the man's arm tight. He breathed wildly through his nose, trying to stay calm, and as quiet as he could. His fear soared to a height he had not known, since he had first been raped years before. Plus the man's hold on him, was a bit uncomfortable, as he pressed the hand with the revolver against the site of the incision Greg had made.

His mind was a confused mess at the moment. All he could think of, was getting out of that hospital. But then, where would he go? As Tony had said, his uncle would find him, no matter where he hid. Where would he go?

Tony remained there with Jonathan until a uniformed police officer tried the door.

"Anyone there? This is the police." The man on the other side, stated.

Swiftly Tony moved Jonathan into the corner, to his left, ordering him silently, to be still and quiet. The youth nodded vehemently, his eyes full of obvious fear.

The man returned quickly, to the door only cracking it open. He stood to the left of the door, waiting for the man to enter the room. It was then, he lifted his pistol to the man's head. In the same instant, he had his credentials ready for the man to inspect.

"Hold it there..." He barked quietly. "Don't turn around... Give me your pistol." Tony ordered firmly.

"Sir, I must warn you..." the cop began to say.

"I don't have time for it. Just hand me the weapon." Tony grumbled.

The man started to reach for the revolver.

"Left hand...slowly...." Tony stiffened, pressing the barrel more firmly against the back of his head.

With the left hand, the cop unclipped the holster, pulling out the weapon slowly. Tony took it from him, placing his unfolded wallet sized credentials, in the same hand the cop had pulled the revolver with.

"What's this?" the man looked at it sighing with some relief. "Tony..." he started to turn to face him.

"Aah..." the man quickly placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Tony, it's me, Kevin." The man was urgent.

"Turn around, slowly..." Tony insisted in being cautious.

The man did so, until he faced him completely, his hands half raised in the air.

"Kevin..." Tony handed his weapon back to him, waiting for him to give back his wallet. "How ya doin', man? Is the floor secure?"

"I can't say just yet... Where's the kid?" he asked.

Tony motioned toward the corner with his head silently.

"Let me check it out..." Kevin reached to his shoulder, talking into the microphone there. "Is the floor secure?"

A scratchy radio voice came back, stating that all of the rooms had been checked and they could not find the perp.

"He ran off when he heard you guys comin'..." Tony informed Kevin then. "...Probably miles away by now..." he was putting his weapon away, as he spoke. "...Or hangin' 'round outside waiting' for me to bring the kid down." Tony fussed securing his weapon as he spoke.

"I guess you'll have to dig into your little bag o' tricks t'get 'im outta here." Kevin jested, though he was serious.

"Yep..." Tony went to Jonathan, grasping an arm. "I need you to call his doctor. I need a ride..."

"Sure..." the cop moved out of the room with him toward the nurses' station.

Tony ducked into Jonathan's room, where he sat him on the bed. Giving the room a good once over, he moved to the corner near the window grabbing up a briefcase. Going back to the bed, he placed the case beside Jonathan, opening it up. Quickly, he began to disguise Jonathan as an elderly man.

He stuck a mustache and beard on him, with a tacky make-up glue. Then he began to draw smile lines and wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Grabbing the youth's hair, he twisted it pinning the length to the top, and back of his head. He then produced a stringy gray wig that he secured on the youth.

"You have to act old, Jonathan. And don't say anything unless you have to. If you do, remember, you're old." Tony advised.

"Anything you say, sonny..." Jonathan practiced his aged, quivering voice.

Tony chuckled. "That was convincing..." He began to change his appearance with glasses, a light colored mustache, goatee and a blonde wig. Then he packed up his small round mirror, glue and make-up, closing the case.

"You guys ready?" Greg waltzed in hurriedly with a wheelchair.

"Almost..." Tony grabbed the blanket from the bed, wrapping it around Jonathan to disguise him further. "Okay..." he then helped Greg put Jonathan in the chair. "I need a jacket..." Tony stated as they started out.

"My office, in the locker." Greg offered.

Tony raced down the hallway to the office, returning before the elevator had arrived to take them downstairs. He slipped into the sports jacket, just as the bell dinged and the doors opened.

Greg's car was waiting downstairs at the entrance, where they loaded Jonathan into the back seat. Tony got into the passenger seat, as Greg took the chair back inside, leaving it just inside the door to the right out of the way. He rushed back, jumping in behind the steering wheel quickly.

"Take the long way home..." Tony ordered, as the doctor put the car in drive, easing it toward the street. "Keep an eye on your mirrors. Let me know if there's a car followin' ya." He then half turned leaning his back to the door. "Talk to me, Jonathan." he said, as he looked past him through the rear window.