Mystery of the Mind

“Yeah,” Cody agreed. “I wonder how long Frank’ll be in the hospital.”

“Probably a while,” said Monica, as they continued going through files.

“Not as long as you think,” they heard.

They looked up at the sound of Jake’s voice, to see him slowly helping Frank into the room.

Everyone immediately jumped up from their chairs and started talking at once.

“Frank, are you nuts?!”

“Jake, are YOU nuts?!”

“Are you BOTH nuts?!”

Jake stopped, holding his hand up to make them stop. “Come on guys, quiet down, huh?”

Alex looked at Frank and shook her head. The poor guy looked like he couldn’t even stand up; he was leaning his full weight on Jake, who started to bring him over to the table.

The three of them all reached out to help, but couldn’t figure out how, since Jake was on Frank’s right side, and his left arm was in a sling.

Jake got him to the table and carefully sat him in a chair. Frank winced when his shoulder touched the back of it. He closed his eyes, trying not to let his pain show, the others not knowing that he had refused pain medication in the hospital that day so that he could think clearly, instead of being disadvantaged by medicine-induced fuzziness. He began to wonder if pain-induced fuzziness was much better.

Frank felt a hand on his good shoulder, and opened his eyes again. The team was staring at him, in concern.

“What?” he asked.

“I asked if you were all right,” Jake said, worriedly.

Frank nodded. “I’m fine.”

They all gave him looks as if to say, ‘yeah, right’.

“What’s been done?” he asked.

They all sat again and told him everything, from when they’d found him, to the mailman, to the list of building occupants. Frank had a hard time getting it all, and they had to repeat some of it.

By the time they finished, Frank felt like he couldn’t even sit up anymore. Alex had gotten up from her seat, and Frank saw that her cup of coffee still had some in it. Maybe caffeine is what I need, he thought. He carefully reached for it, but it was suddenly snatched away before he had a chance to get it. He looked up to see Alex frowning at him.

“Thought you were done,” he said, with a sheepish look.

"You can't drink coffee!" she said, putting it down out of his reach.

“Why?” he asked.

“Caffeine is the last thing you need!” Alex told him.

He sighed in reply. It turned into a gasp when a massive wave of pain suddenly shot through him, stealing his breath away.

They all immediately surrounded him.

“Cody! Go get him some water,” Jake said, taking the bottle of pills the hospital had given him out of his pocket.

Cody ran to comply, coming back at warp speed. “Here!” he said, handing it to Jake.

“Frank,” Jake said, trying to put two of the pills in his hand. “Frank, take these.”

Frank shook his head, eyes closed, breathing heavily. The pain was horrible, lacing up and down his arm, through his shoulder and into his chest and neck. Their hands were the only thing keeping him in his seat.

Jake briefly considered ramming the pills down his throat, but didn’t want to accidentally choke him. They were forced to wait it out, and finally Frank’s breathing slowed, and he opened his eyes again. When Jake saw the change in Frank’s face, he mentally kicked himself for letting him leave the hospital. If his boss looked pale and sick before, it was doubled now.

“This is crazy, Frank! What are you doing here?” Monica demanded, bewildered.

Frank just looked at her, not having the strength to answer.

“Why won’t you take the pills?” Alex asked him, sounding very upset.

Frank tried to figure out how to explain using as few words as possible. “Can’t think…with them,” he whispered.

Monica’s profiling mind understood quickly. “He wants to help find the guy but the medicine dulls his senses.”

Frank nodded. Good way to put it.

Alex sighed. “But Frank, you can’t go on like this.”

“She’s right,” Jake said. “Anyone got anything he can take?”

“Sorry, nothing here,” Cody said, shrugging apologetically.

“Tylenol,” said Alex.

“Aspirin,” said Monica.

“That’ll work,” Jake said, taking it when Monica dug it out of her purse. He handed them to Frank and helped him drink the water.

“Thanks,” Frank whispered, willing the room to stop spinning.

“You should lie down,” Alex said, crossing her arms. “You need rest.”

Frank shook his head. “No…I need to…remember…who it was.”

“The ‘mailman’?” Monica asked.

Frank nodded, with a sigh.

Everyone else echoed it.

Jake grabbed the closest chair, and, with his hand still on Frank’s good arm, pulled it closer and sat in it, facing him.

“How about this. I throw guesses at what might’ve happened, and you see if anything rings a bell.”

Frank nodded, tiredly.

“Okay,” Jake said. “The mailman. He always comes in the morning, obviously. That day he got to your place, and you ended up shot. It wasn’t the usual mailman, because he’d been attacked and his clothes stolen. Now, first; how did your door get open?”

Frank blinked, trying to ignore the pain and think. He always locked his door. If it was open, then the man had picked it, forced it open, broken it down…or he’d opened it.

“Door damaged?” he asked.

“No,” Jake answered, as they all watched Frank intently.

Frank sighed, suddenly frowned a minute later.

“What?” Jake asked.

Frank didn’t answer.

“What’s wrong? Are you all right?” Jake gently shook his shoulder, and Frank looked at him.

“You all right?” he repeated.

Frank nodded, slowly. “I recall…knocking.”

“He knocked?” Jake asked.

Frank frowned again, trying to bring back the memory.

“He knocked, figuring you’d assume he needed you to sign for something?” Alex suggested.

Frank looked at her, eyebrows slightly raised. “Makes sense,” he said. Then he sighed again, and rubbed his forehead. “Why can’t I remember!”

“It happens, Frank,” said Monica. “Trauma can wipe out the memory of the incident, you know that. It’s a mystery of the mind.”

“Happened to me once,” said Cody.

They all looked at him.

“One time my mother made liver for dinner. It was so traumatic that I still can’t remember if she forced me to eat it or not.”

That statement was so unexpected, that it made them all bust out laughing, easing some of the tension.

Frank had to hold it in, for laughing increased his pain. He closed his eyes again, wondering how he was going to make it like this. He suddenly felt a hand on his forehead.

“Still has a fever,” Alex said. “Why don’t you guys bring the couch in here. Frank, have you eaten any decent food?”

Frank shook his head at her.

“I’ll go see if we have any soup,” Monica said, leaving for the kitchen.

“Go on, guys,” Alex said to Jake. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Jake nodded and he and Cody left the room.

Alex sat in the chair Jake had vacated. “How do you feel?”

Frank resisted the urge to laugh at the question. “Wish I could…remember,” he said, knowing Alex had meant physically, but he felt so horrible there weren’t adequate words to describe it.

“I know, so do I,” Alex said, smiling sympathetically.

“I might know him,” Frank said. “All this time…I might know…who it is…”

Alex had to fight her emotions. She’d never seen Frank this way; so vulnerable, so helpless. Frank Donovan, helpless? Never. She had to fight the anger that she felt, at the shooter and at Frank’s inability to remember.

“If you do, it’ll come back to you,” she said, ever hopeful.

At that moment Jake and Cody came back carrying the couch, and they placed it on the floor near the table. Alex helped Frank up and supported him over to it, where they laid him down.

Frank bit his lip to avoid wincing, and looked up at them when they all just stood there staring at him.

“You all right?” Alex asked.

Frank was already getting tired of that question. “Yes.”

Monica came back a minute later with a big bowl of chicken noodle soup, some crackers, and a cup of tea. “Decaf,” she said, with a smirk.

Jake looked at her in surprise. “Who drinks decaf?”

“Who drinks tea?” said Cody.

They all just looked at each other, no one admitting it.

“I do,” Frank said.

They looked at him like he had two heads.

“Occasionally,” he clarified, with a half-smile.

They all nodded, as if to say, ‘riiiight’.

Monica pulled a chair over, and Frank realized that she intended to feed him.

“I can feed myself,” he said, his male pride not allowing it; weak or not.

“No you can’t.”

Frank made a face. “Yes I can,” he said, trying to sit up using his one good arm.

Alex helped him, and he held out his hand and Monica gave him the bowl. He realized then that he needed two arms. He looked up to see everyone trying not to laugh.

“No you can’t,” Monica repeated, smiling.

Jake figured out a solution that wouldn’t damage Frank’s ego, and pulled the chair closer to him so he could sit the bowl on it.

“He can now,” Jake said, with a laugh.

“Stubborn male pride,” Alex whispered to Monica.

They watched Frank to make sure he ate it all, which he did gladly. Hospital food really was terrible.

“Thanks, Monica,” he said, as she took the empty bowl.

“Anytime,” she answered. “Anything else you need?”

Frank shook his head tiredly, as he carefully sat back against the couch. He realized that he was shivering, suddenly feeling very cold. He hoped it didn’t mean that his fever had gone up again. He hoped even more that it wasn’t obvious.

Jake noticed, but didn’t say anything, knowing how his boss was. He went over to the thermostat and turned up the heat, and then went to one of the closets and grabbed a blanket. Coming back over, he said, “Why don’t you take a nap, Frank.” He put the blanket on the couch, nonchalantly.

Frank realized what Jake was trying to do, and he looked at him, and nodded.

Jake knew the nod was not just an answer; it was an expression of thanks. He nodded back, and helped him to lie down again. It didn’t take long before Frank was fast asleep.

Alex left the room, and came back with more blankets. “You should’ve brought more then one,” she whispered to Jake.

“I was trying to be—”

“Casual,” Monica said, helping Alex cover Frank better. “Frank isn’t doing a good job hiding his discomfort, Jake, in his condition.”

“Poor guy,” said Cody. “What the heck were you thinking, Jake, taking him out of the hospital?”

“I didn’t take him out, he forced me to let him out.”

“‘Forced’ you?” Cody laughed. “He isn’t even capable of forcing his legs to carry him, right now.”

“Shhhh!” Alex and Monica both said together.

Frank was genuinely touched. When he’d taken on the UC assignment, he knew he’d come on pretty strong, to the rest of the team. He’d wanted to gauge their methods, their talents, see how they handled themselves under pressure. This was an extremely dangerous job, and he wanted to make sure that this team wouldn’t need any more replacements. As the weeks had passed, he’d seen how close the team was to each other, and it was something he envied. He began to drop the harsh exterior, and was soon drawn into the fold. But he never quite realized just how much the rest of the team cared about him, until now.

Frank opened his eyes, not realizing that he’d closed them, and saw that Jake had faced his chair in his direction.

Jake saw that he was awake, and tiptoed over. “You okay, Frank? Need anything?”

Frank tried to shift his position slightly, and winced when pain threatened to overcome him. “Some water,” he gasped.

Jake sighed. “How about some of those pills to go with it?”

Frank sighed, knowing he’d never fall back to sleep with such pain. He nodded at Jake.

Jake smiled in relief, and went to get the water. After he gave it and the pills to Frank, he sat on the floor in front of the couch. “Anything else you need?”

Frank shook his head, closing his eyes with a sigh. He suddenly had the feeling that there was something he wanted to ask Jake, and he opened his eyes again, trying to remember what it could be.

Jake saw the puzzled look on his face. “What?”

Frank thought for a minute, and suddenly remembered. “That medicine. Did you find out…what it was?”

Jake nodded. “I already have a bracelet being made for you. I mean, what if something happens and you have to go back, and some doctor or nurse doesn’t know about it?” He shrugged, sheepishly. “I figured you should have it as soon as possible.”

Frank smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate…everything,” he said, feeling the medicine start to take hold.

“You’d do the same for me,” he heard Jake say, as he drifted off.

“You mean he doesn’t know about that?”

Frank frowned, wondering what they were talking about. Was the ‘he’ supposed to be him? He saw Jake shake his head.

“I didn’t actually tell him, no.”

“Tell me what?” Frank said.

They all turned and looked at him. Getting up from their chairs, they went over to the couch.

“Hey Frank. How do you feel?” Alex asked.

“Shot,” he answered, not liking that they seemed to be stalling.

Alex looked at Jake. “Shouldn’t he take the antibiotic now? Let me have it. Oh, and we should change his bandages.”

Stallllllling… “Tell me what?” Frank asked again.

Jake waited until Alex gave Frank the medicine, and had started on the bandages before he said;

“In the hospital, a nurse brought up blood for you. It was the wrong one.”

Frank’s eyebrows went up. Out of everything he could think of, that was not one of them.

“I don’t think it was an accident, either,” Jake went on. “From what the nurses told us, the blood was switched before they brought it. Alex saw it before it had a chance to hurt you.” He said, nodding towards her.

Frank didn’t say anything for a minute, but sighed and closed his eyes. The pills Jake had given him were still working, but were wearing off fast. He tried to get his muddled brain to think. He didn’t want to die; this person had to be caught before he tried again, and succeeded.

He opened his eyes, and involuntarily gasped as Alex's touch sent shockwaves of pain through his shoulder and arm.

She flinched herself. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He blinked back the sudden spots in front of his eyes, and nodded to show her he was all right. “The files…how far back?” he asked.

“Six months. We started going back further.”

“Try a year,” Frank told them.

“When you first joined,” Cody said. “Literally.” He suddenly made a face. “What was the date when he got shot?” he asked the others.

They all hesitated, counting the days back. “October 14,” Alex told them.

Cody went over to his computer, and started typing furiously. A minute later he went, “Whoa.”

“What?” Jake asked.

Cody turned in his chair to face them. “That was the date that the AG’s son was kidnapped*, last year.”

They all frowned, trying to figure out the significance.

“Rafael Ortega,” Jake said.

They all looked at him.

“Looks like someone is trying to get revenge on you for his death,” said Cody. “I bet it’s his father.”

They all looked back to Frank, to see him rubbing his forehead warily. “Alejandro Ortega’s a pro,” he said.

“You don’t think we can catch whoever he got to do it? You need more confidence in us,” said Alex, as she finally finished with Frank’s shoulder.

Frank shook his head. “Don’t want you…getting hurt over me. Ortega is…too good.”

There was silence for a minute, before Jake broke it.

“Frank, we’re gonna find this guy. No one hits you and gets away with it.”

Frank saw the agreement on everyone’s faces, and just had to smile at their loyalty. He thought it ironic that it was taking massive physical pain to make him feel good emotionally.

“Hungry, Frank?” Monica asked him.

He shook his head.

“You have to eat!” Alex exclaimed.

“Later,” he said. “We need Ortega’s location.”

“Probably still holed up in Colombia,” said Jake.

Frank shrugged, almost not realizing until it was too late that he shouldn’t involve his left shoulder in the action. He closed his eyes with a gasp, and sighed heavily.

“Frank?”

He opened his eyes again, realized he had them closed longer then he’d planned to. They all said nothing, just looked at him sympathetically. But they also looked upset, that he was doing this to himself.

“You should’ve stayed there, Frank,” Cody said, referring to the hospital.

Frank said nothing, knowing they were right.

“Okay,” Jake said, easing the slightly awkward moment. “We gotta find Ortega. Cody, do your thing, and let us know what you find out about his whereabouts.”

“Will do,” Cody said, going back to his mass of computers.

Jake, Monica, and Alex all went over to him to find out what he’d found, since Frank was asleep and they didn’t want to disturb him.

“What?” Jake whispered, looking over his shoulder.

“You aren’t gonna believe this,” said Cody. “You know what that is?” he said, pointing to the screen.

Alex figured it out, and her mouth opened in surprise. “Alejandro’s death certificate.”

They all exchanged glances. “Ortega is dead?” said Monica, in disbelief. “Then who’s responsible for this? October 14 can’t be a coincidence.”

Cody shrugged, shaking his head.

“Great, now we gotta tell Frank,” said Alex, with a sigh.

“What is it?” he asked.

They all looked at him, surprised at the sudden sound of his voice.

Alex looked at Jake, and they both walked over to the couch. Cody swiveled his chair around, and Monica sat up straight.

Jake sighed before he spoke. “Alejandro Ortega is dead, Frank.”

Frank frowned. “Dead? Then that means…”

“It might’ve been someone else,” Alex finished for him.

“’Might’ve’?”

She sighed. “It happened on the anniversary of Rafael’s death. There must be a connection somehow.”

Frank sighed, reaching up his right hand to rub an eye, when he saw something dangling from his wrist. The medical bracelet.

It was sterling silver, he could tell, and it said; ‘Medical alert: allergy to…’ something he didn’t even try to pronounce, in his current state.

He looked at Jake. “How much?”

“Alex paid for it.”

Frank looked at her, and she shook her head. “Don’t even try it, Frank. I owed it to you.”

He frowned, puzzled.

“I was the one who shot Rafael,” she said with a sigh.

Frank finally understood. Alex was blaming herself for Frank having been shot, obviously thinking that it should have been her, since she was the one who had actually killed him.

He wasn’t quite sure what to say, except, “Thanks.” He knew that when he had his full brain activity back, he should have a talk with her.

Frank suddenly noticed that it was dark outside the window. “You don’t all have to stay here,” he started to say.

“That’s all taken care of,” said Alex. “You’re going home with Jake.”

“I am?”

“You can’t go back to your place, there’s a threat on your life,” said Monica. “And you’re not fit to be alone anyway.”

“She’s right,” Jake said. “And you can’t live on the HQ couch.”

“Yeah, it’s too lumpy,” said Cody, with a smile.

Frank rested his head against the back of the couch with a sigh of his own. “Sorry, Jake.”

Jake looked at him with a frown. “’Sorry’? For what?”

“For being so much trouble,” Frank answered, not liking being a burden.

Jake shook his head. “It’s no trouble.”

Frank made a face like he didn’t believe him, then plopped his head back again.

Jake started to get up. “You want anything?”

Frank shook his head. “I wish I knew if I saw the man’s face.”

Jake sat down again. “If it didn’t have anything to do with Ortega, who do you think would do something like this?”

Frank snorted. “Long list.”

Jake laughed. “The mark of a good Federal agent; when you lose count of the number of people after you for revenge.”

Frank smiled at that one. “Yeah.”

Jake saw that Frank had closed his eyes and sounded half asleep. He stood and went over to him, taking his good arm.

“Come on, boss. Time for beddy bye.”

When Frank realized what he was doing, he said, “The couch is fine.”

“No it isn’t. You need real rest on something comfortable. My couch is worse then the one at the office,” Jake joked, helping him to the bedroom.

Frank was asleep within a minute of his head hitting the pillow. Jake stood at the doorway, looking towards the living room, realizing that if Frank needed him in the middle of the night, or something, it was possible that he might not hear him from the couch. For a minute he didn’t know what to do, but then he thought of a solution. He dragged his recliner as quietly as he could into the bedroom, and settled on that. His last thought before he fell asleep was what he would do to the shooter when he laid his hands on him.

He gasped in shock as the bullet slammed into his left upper arm. Pain shot up and down it in a sickening wave, making him stumble back a step. He dizzily reached for his own gun, but only managed to raise it halfway before a second bullet slammed into his shoulder, and out the other side. The force of it spun him around, and he fell hard onto the floor, hardly noticing his gun go sailing out of his hand. He felt the hot blood running down his arm, chest, and back, and gasped at the excruciating pain. Darkness claimed him then, and he didn’t hear the shooter laugh before he closed the door and ran back down the hall.

Frank opened his eyes, looking into the face of a worried looking Jake.

Jake frowned as Frank stared at nothing, breathing heavily. He felt his forehead and checked his pulse; desperately hoping nothing was wrong and he wouldn’t have to have to rush Frank back to the hospital.

He put his other hand on Frank’s good arm, noting with relief that his breathing was starting to slow down. “Frank? Are you all right? Talk to me!”

Only then did Frank seem to notice Jake’s presence, and he blinked a few times and looked up at him. He realized that he was safe, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying not to make noticeable the pain and utter weakness he felt.

“Frank?” Jake said, worried when he didn’t answer.

Frank looked at him again, licking dry lips before he spoke. “I’m all right.”

“Yeah sure. That was some nightmare. What happened?”

“I…relived it.”

Jake’s eyebrows flew up. “The shooting? You remember?”

Frank nodded, trying to grasp the memory; the dream was starting to slip away. “I didn’t see his face.”

Jake groaned, flopping back onto the recliner. “Great.”