For his part, Creed blinks in mild confusion, "Jesus kid, you're gonna kill my buzz. What girl?", the strangled sound that escapes his younger partner's lips serves to jog the older cop's memory, he shrugs, "Oh, in there? Our friend there just needed a little extra motivation. Junkie like that's well past giving a damn 'bout himself...oh don't give me that f&&*ing look. Worked didn't it? F+!~ing Caesar, always trying to dip his pecker in s~@@ he can't handle."
He glances around, "Now where's that nurse? Hate to leave without giving that one a last once-over, eh kid?"
The nurse in question is barely visible behind the tall, broad man in a white coat who flings the hallway doors open with both hands.
"Who are you?" He snaps, hands on his hips as he glares down at the detectives. With bright green eyes and tousled dark hair touched with grey at the temples he cuts a distinguished figure, standing at least half a foot over Creed or Charlie. "What are you doing with my patient?"
"Dr. Rosen, they're cops," Grace protests, worried knitting her brows together. "I told you--"
"Does this look like a police station to you? Or an interrogation room?" He cuts Grace off with a sharp hand gesture, still focused on the men in front of him. "I want your badge numbers."
Creed's expression suggests he believes the doctor is joking but is still deciding if it's funny or not, "Relax Doc, no one's here to put the screws to your patient. In fact.", he steps closer to the man, eyes narrowing, "...most of our questions are for you."
Similarly, Charlie had seen Dr.Rosen's style of bluster before. Frankly, his CO's had done a better job of it. That said, he understood the doctor was just looking out for his patients. Stepping in front of Creed, he does his best to diffuse the situation, "Dr.Rosen. I'm Officer Miller, my partner here is Creed. I understand your apprehension, I really do, but we're here to help. Our main concern here is getting these drugs off the street quickly."
"You're questioning me?" Dr. Rosen scoffs--actually scoffs, a sound that requires quite some practice. "Ridiculous. Nurse, if these men are done bothering my patient, please escort them out--and I expect to have a word with you later."
Charlie has a knack for picking up on subtle cues--the twitch of an eyelid, the slight curve of a mouth. Here, it's the stiffness of Dr. Rosen's hands, the sharpness of his tone, and a dozen almost imperceptible cues that betray his nervous fear underneath his bluster. Doctors and junkies apparently share the same expressions when they think they've gotten caught.
Charlie lets out a deep breath to release the tension in his jaw and retain his composure in the face of the doctor's stubbornness. Nice and steady. Something's seriously off here, poor bastard probably has good reason to be scared...
"Dr.Rosen, I can appreciate your hesitance. Drug users and the police don't have the best relationship but I assure you, our concern here is public safety. Fact of the matter is this is an open case, people are dying and you don't have the authority to dismiss us. We don't want to waste time getting a warrant to compel your cooperation but we will. I'd rather use that time trying to prevent any further OD's from this drug. It's in everyone's best interest that you help us here."
Creed is about to tell the good doctor where he can shove his stethoscope but but he decides to give Charlie a shot at pressing him. Still plenty of time to tear this looming prick a new one once the kid blows his load.
Dr. Rosen pauses, assessing Charlie with a careful eye, and when he speaks again it's more measured.
"You don't need a warrant to ask questions." He straightens his lab coat and shakes his head. "If you could get one."
He leaves that hanging obliquely for a moment. "There's nothing I can do to help you, officers, and since you've already obtained access to a patient without notifying his attending doctor I suppose you have whatever evidence you think you need. But please, tell me what you think I can do to stop you from wasting any more time at my hospital."
The doctor's obstinate refusal to cooperate is clearly pushing the limits of Charlie's patience. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his dark hair in frustration, "Look. All we need from you is more information about what these drugs are contaminated with? It's been stated that it's some biological substance. What does that mean? Is it some kind of bacteria? A disease carried by one of the cooks that was passed on somehow? In your medical opinion, was the contamination accidental or something that would have to be deliberate? Have you ever encountered something similar before?"
Dr. Rosen's gaze flickers to Grace, who looks straight back with contrition (but with a hint of unsteady rebellion below). He turns back to Charlie in an instant.
"It's still under analysis," he says evenly, "Of course you realize that 'biological' covers a broad category. It could be a byproduct of a disease that the original plant suffered before it was refined. It could be any number of potential contaminants introduced at any step of the refinement process itself. It could very well be a disease the addicts themselves already possessed and came to share by spreading needles."
"In my professional opinion, I respect that police work runs a little faster than medicine--but isolating exactly what is afflicting the patients here is going to take time. I'm willing to send you a copy of my paper when I've finished analyzing it."
Despite having assumed an air of resigned professionalism Dr. Rosen is still almost palpably smug. This is a man who is standing on his own turf, and he knows it.
He might have a witty little bon mot to add, just to rub it in, if not for the sudden alarm blaring from the very room the detectives just left.
Grace pales and slams through the door, already paging for a Code Blue as Tio Inez thrashes on his bed, mouth tinged with violently red foam. He claws at his throat with his remaining hand, eyes streaming bloody tears as he chokes.
Creed has about had enough of this smug prick and his lab coat. Pushing himself off the wall he's been leaning on while Charlie makes his vain protest, he rounds on Dr.Rosen, "Listen, Doc. I don't give two s+#%s about your protocol, I'm not about to be dicked around on this. I've got no problem making your life extremely...", the alarm cuts off the rest of his threat, "F!@# off, what now?"
Grabbing the the Doc's collar in an iron grip, Creed shoves him into Tio's room behind grace, grimacing at Tio's thrashing form, "Just great. Get the f*%@ in there Doc! Got enough bodies on this one already if you haven't forgotten."
Charlie pushes in after the others, clenching his teeth as he takes in the grisly sight, "S++#. S!~~. Not now."
His service history giving him sufficient experience with hospitals to know his best use was to stay out of the way, Charlie moves clear of the doors and stands just off from Tio's bed, ready to help hold the man down if asked.
"Don't! Dr. Rosen barks, grabbing at the sleeve of Grace's scrubs, but the blue cloth barely brushes his fingers, even with Creed's unintentional additional propulsion.
Oblivious, Grace bends over the seizing man in the bed, shouting instructions that Mr. Inez is clearly not following as she struggles to pull his hand from his throat.
"Don't touch him! Grace! Dr. Rosen shouts again, horrified.
Charlie briefly registers the oddity of the doctor being so fearful of contact with an non-quarantine patient. Regardless, he reaches for the nurse as it's clear the danger is real to Dr.Rosen, "Grace, wait!"
Unfortunately his brief hesitation is enough to allow the young nurse to slip past his grasping fingers.
Grace pulls an odd tube-and-bag contraption from one of her deep pockets and thrusts it into Tio's mouth, pumping with one hand while she struggles to restrain Tio's arm. The why of that hangs in fleshy strips from the man's jagged nails, blood pulsing messily from furrowed skin.
His feet slam the foot of his bed with an audible crack--whether from plastic or bone is hard to say. Grace doesn't slow down, struggling to suction something friable and ragged from Tio's airway that tears itself into clotting pieces in the tube.
Tio's scream starts as a gurgle and rises into a long keening as he arches his back and dribbles foam and broken pieces of the obstruction from his mouth.
Creed pauses for a moment to admire the nurse's capable if frantic efforts, but only a moment. Moving his hand from collar down between Rosen's shoulder blades, he gives the doctor a hard shove towards Grace and her thrashing patient, "S@$* or get off the pot, Doc! Girl needs help."
Charlie's need to help quickly overcomes both apprehension and confusion. Moving beside Grace he swallows his revulsion, pinning Tio's bloody arm across the man's stomach and throwing his body weight across his thighs to pin Tio's legs as best he's able. Struggling against the one armed man's desperate flailing, he pleads over his shoulder for assistance from Dr.Rosen,"Doctor. Please!"
Creed's shove jerks Dr. Rosen out of his trance, sending the man fumbling through his labcoat. He pulls on blue surgical gloves and a white cloth hood with a fine mesh over the eyes.
"Let go of that patient!" Dr. Rosen shouts, moving up next to the bed and throwing an arm out over Tio's body.
Grace finally hears him clearly and snaps her head around to stare at him, infuriated.
"I need to staunch the bleeding--" she insists, fumbling in her scrubs for yet more supplies, when suddenly Tio goes slack, eyes rolling up in the back of his head.
He keeps screaming, though.
"F~$~," Grace breathes, grabbing a handful of gauze from the shelf above the bed.
Creed sucks his teeth, considering the situation while acutely aware it's beyond his expertise to really assist. As Tio's condition slips rapidly from majorly screwed to proper f*cked he decides he's had enough of Rosen's whingeing.
"Oh f*ck it.", he mutters, striding around the hospital bed. Grabbing Dr.Rosen's outstretched arm, he plans a heavy forearm in the man's chest and attempts to push him back against the wall, "Had your chance dipsh*t.", between his tone and the dangerous glint in the older officer's eyes it's clear things would escalate quickly should the doctor press his luck.
Leaving Creed to remove the interfering doctor Charlie reaches for the bag of Grace's device so that she can focus on slowing the flow of Tio's oozing wounds, "Here! I pump, you bandage."
Leaning back somewhat as the thrashing subsides, Charlie does his best to match the rhythm Grace had been using on the bag earlier. Still watchful of Tio's remaining arm for signs of more struggle, the young vet focuses on working the bag and not on the bloody viscera working it's way out of the poor man's throat. Despite his best intentions it's obvious Charlie's resolve is stretched near to breaking by the intensity of Tio's situation. Cold sweat pours down his face and he chews his lower lip near to bleeding but he's still holding it together thus far. Easy Private, just keep your sh*t together. F*ck! Haven't been elbow deep in sh*t since...no keep it here and now...just here and now."
"Infectious protocols!" Dr. Rosen snaps, taking a broad swing at Creed as he focuses on the crisis playing out across the room.
Too broad, it turns out. Instead of striking the surprisingly nimble older man Dr. Rosen drives his fist onto the sharp metal edge of a connector box. He curses fiercely and clutches his hand to his chest, scrabbling at the cuff of his now ruined surgical glove.
Grace jerks back from Tio with fury and horror, staring at her blood-soaked gloves. She almost touches her face, her eyes snapping up to Charlie.
"Gloves!" She shouts at Charlie, pointing at a box of large latex gloves. "Gloves and masks and--where are the glasses? Where are the glasses, you negligent bastard!" This she snarls at Dr. Rosen, tearing her contaminated gloves off.
Creed doesn't so much dodge as shrug around the doctor's ill advised swing, seeming more surprised Rosen would make the attempt than anything. Is this f*cker serious? Ah Sh*t, Marshmallow will be all over my *ss for leveling a Doctor. F*ck, what is it? Count to ten yeah. Okay, one...
*Wham* Creed's fist catches the doctor soundly in the side of the head. Hardly a knockout blow but sufficient payback for swinging at a Cop by Creed's estimation.
He glances over his shoulder, "Put on the damn gloves kid. Not certain we'll be welcome back if you start throwing up blood later."
Charlie hardly notices the punch or Creed's comment. He's far to busy staring at all the blood Tio has lost, and how much of it covers himself and Grace. He drops the bag as if scalded. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t!
Scrambling to put on the gloves and find a surgical mask, he looks at Grace with desperation and horror, "You didn't know? How the hell didn't you know! What the f*ck is happening to him?"
The blow grazes Dr. Rosen skull, a sufficient warning not to proceed further in any case.
"We don't know!" Dr. Rosen's attention is diverted by the arrival of the crash team, who hesitate in the door at the scene they're dealing with. They dutifully followed his barked instructions, wrapping up in glove and masks against against the gory mess Tio has made of himself.
"Nobody told me," Grace says, her hands shaking as she assists in opening his airway for a tube, another nurse slipping in beside Charlie to inject Mr. Inez with something hopefully very strong.
"Nobody told me," she repeats, with rising disgusted indignation, whipping her head around to stare at Dr. Rosen standing by the wall.
Creed adjusts his coat carefully, attempting to reign in his temper as Rosen directs the crash team. By the time Grace begins to round on the doctor, Creed no longer feels the need to force the man's head up his own *ss so that he might physically match his personality and has instead settled for a simmering hatred of the lanky prick.
He snorts disgustedly in the doctor's direction, "Nothing for him to tell. You don't have a f*cking clue what you're dealing with here do you Doc? All that posturing just to hide the fact you're completely out of ideas, eh? I know your type, burn the car to the ground before you'll admit you don't know how to change the oil..."
Charlie briefly abandons his frantic search for disinfectant to stare at the doctor in disbelief, more and more certain Creed has the right of it for once as his makeshift partner continues, "Jesus Christ, there are people's lives at stake here doctor. If you think there's a chance...", he glances at the crash team, hard at work on Mr.Inez and moves closer, lowering his voice, "God, you've been endangering your whole staff. You're supposed to be sworn to protect people! What justification could you possibly have for not quarantining these patients as soon as they came in?"
Dr. Rosen stares at the tableau in front of him, featureless behind his odd mask. When he pulls it off with his shaking, lacerated hand it leaves his hair swept at a rakish angle, almost charmingly tousled. It frames his bloodless face and wide, fixed eyes incongruously as he mouths something inaudible.
The rising pressure of accusation pulls him back from whatever reverie he was in. He snaps his gaze across Creed, Charlie, and Grace with a completely different focus than he had before.
"You all need decontamination showers," he says, clipped and even, "Then--then--"
Dr. Rosen looks back at the team furiously working on Tio, whose screaming has shriveled to a thin mewl, lips thin.
"Showers. Then we talk about--" He shakes his head, pushing his hair sleek against his scalp. "Grace, show them. I have to--"
He breaks away to Tio's bedside, elbowing a technician out of the way and giving instruction in that clipped, even, and very faintly shattered voice.
"He's right," Grace says, hand hovering at the level of her face for lack of anywhere else to put it, "We have--bleach showers, God, that son of a b$+*!--"She elbows open the door with a clean shoulder and holds it for the detectives, if they choose to follow her.
Creed gives Rosen a last annoyed frown before stepping outside, "Come on kid."
Creed is otherwise silent until the three of them are gathered in the hall and the doors swing closed to shut out the sounds of the technicians struggling to save the unfortunate Mr.Inez. After a moment to let the quiet settle in, he gestures to the bloodstains on Charlie's uniform, "Best follow the lady there Chuck. Nothing else for it seeing as you were stupid enough to let the poor bastard bleed all over you. F*cking stupid that..."
Moving to lean against the side of the corridor, shifting to adjust his shoulder blades against the taupe wall, "Think I'm gonna wait here if it's all the same to you. Never touched the junkie. Just hurry back, no stopping off to play grab *ss in the supply closet, yeah."
Even in his shell-shocked state, Charlie manages to blanch at Creed's last remark, shooting Grace an awkward, apologetic look, "Right, yeah. We'd better get moving."
Scratching at a patch of the drying blood, he does his best to fight the urge to rip the skin clean off, "Never thought a bleach shower would sound so appealing."
"If you don't let that a@#~&$* leave I'll try to keep my hands to myself," Grace snaps back at Creed, tension strung through her voice. "Come on."
She takes off down a side corridor, cursing softly but creatively, glancing over her shoulder periodically to check on Charlie.
"We should take a service elevator. Don't--don't touch anything, all right? And don't rub your eyes or around your mouth." She shakes her head sharply. "Can you arrest him? For--I don't know, reckless endangerment?"
Creed roll Wits + Investigation
As Charlie and the nurse disappear down a side corridor, Creed slowly scans the main hallway slowly. If it's still quiet after a few moments he sighs, pushing away from the wall and moving to peer into Tio's room with a scowl, Bloody mess this is...
Charlie freezes with his hand halfway to running his fingers through his hair in his usual absent way. Regarding the raised hand as a foreign entity for a moment, he lowers it slowly, "Right...yeah."
He blows out a long breath at Grace's question, "Well for one, I'd wager you can get him fired for this. As for the rest..."
Grace slaps the call elevator button with a gloved hand and stands awkwardly away from anything else in the hall, including Charlie. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye, lips thinned.
There's precedent for an arrest, Charlie recalls from his early academy classes, but only if someone is directly harmed by Dr. Rosen's negligence. There's a certain amount of wiggle room on what that means, but by and large it'd probably cause more harm than good to make an arrest just yet. On the other hand, making the good doctor sweat a little in a cell might feel pretty good.
Meanwhile, Creed walks in on a chaotic, whirling scene punctuated by the hiss and click of hospital machinery and hurried medical chatter. Tio is hard to make out underneath and inside of the crowd of seven people at his bedside, all gloved and masked.
"It's seeping again," a blue-gowned man says, hunched over Tio with his back to the door, and Dr. Rosen bends over with the aspirator Grace was using earlier to suction something. He's wearing a regular mask himself this time, already tacked to his skin with sweat at the edges.
Creed's experienced eyes skim over these details and dozens of others--the open biohazard container, the dribbles of blood on the ground, the darkening gore on Tio's dangling hand--and one thing stands out of the usual bustle around a stabilizing critical patient. There's a second, barely filled biohazard container, almost lost amongst a mess of tubing on the crash cart rolled up by the bed, sealed shut with a very unhospital-like wrapping of electrical tape.
"As much as I'd like to throw him in a cell, it's unlikely we could make an arrest stick. Wouldn't mind seeing Rosen sweat it out in a cell but it'd likely do more harm than good at this point."
Standing awkwardly in the hallway, Charlie desperately wishes he could wipe the now cold sweat from his brow but heeds Graces warning. Where is that damn elevator!
Scanning the room, Creed considers his options for a moment, eyes narrowing. Shrugging to himself, the weathered officer launches himself towards the hospital bed and Dr.Rosen. Raising his voice to cut through the chaos created by the crash team's efforts, he bellows, "Listen here Doc. I'm not at all finished with you yet! I don't know what sort of bullsh*t you and your cronies are trying to pull here but..."
Creed's tirade is cut off just short of reaching the doctor as he seems to slip on a small pool of Tio's congealing blood, his momentum carrying Creed's large frame straight into the crash cart, nearly toppling it entirely as he fights to regain balance. In all the commotion, Creed attempts to deftly palm the small biohazard container and slip it into one of the many pockets of his worn duster.
The furor created by Creed's interruption more than masks his sleight of hand. The oddly secured box vanishes into the folds of his pocket just before a nurse attempts to shove him out of the way.
"Get off of here!" She snaps, unable to move Creed's planted weight.
"Stop!" Dr. Rosen comes around the bedside and gestures outside. "Look, I don't--if you want to berate me, do it in five minutes!"
Outside and down a few halls, the elevator dings open in front of Charlie and Grace. She steps through and presses the down button through a glove, waiting nervously the few floors to the basement. Grace seems to know her way down here, in the bare concrete bowels of the hospital, snaking through dully flickering fluorescent lights to a bare tile room. She pushes Charlie towards a narrow shower stall.
"Take off your clothes, throw them in the bucket, and turn the red lever. Keep your eyes and mouth shut until the water stops." She darts into her own shower stall next to Charlie's and soon has the water running--with a sputtering curse and the exclamation: "Jesus, it's f~*%ing cold!"
Pushing himself laboriously off the crash cart, Creed smirks mentally behind the storming anger plain on his face. Can't be getting that old, still quicker than these clowns.
He makes a long show of scowling at the medical staff, Tio, and the offending crash cart for good measure before settling on a resigned scowl, "Fine. Just make certain I don't have to come looking for you once you're done."
Smoothing his coat and the small container tucked within, Creed spins on his heel and makes his way back out into the hall.
Nodding absently, Charlie pulls off his boots and tosses them hurriedly in the bucket, followed quickly by the rest of his clothes, down to the last stitch. Aligning himself in the center of the stall, he takes a deep breath before flipping the red lever. Grace's assessment proves accurate as Charlie is blasted by freezing water, making him gasp involuntarily, "F-f*ck me!"
Sputtering under the first icy shower he can remember since his military days, he begins scrubbing harshly at the dried blood on his arms, "How l-long do we stay in here?"
"Until the bleach--" The showerhead rumbles alarmingly overhead before discharging any icy blast of bleach solution that stretches on interminably until it's suddenly replaced by almost uncomfortably hot water, lashing Charlie's pale skin red.
Grace sucks in a sharp gasp and turns off her shower, the muffled sound of her rummaging following soon after. A pair of green scrubs is lashed over the top of Charlie's shower.
Meanwhile, if Creed waits patiently, Dr. Rosen does eventually emerge, splattered in unpleasant fluid and still nauseous-looking. A few orderlies and nurses flow out behind him, two remaining to continue work on what's either Tio's wounded body or corpse.
Dr. Rosen looks like he wants to say something, but knows better than to actually open his mouth.
Slamming the shower off, Charlie slumps forward, wanting a minute to catch his breath. Unfortunately the stench of bleach is still far to strong in the small shower stall. Coughing, he pulls down the offered scrubs and slips on the pants before popping the latch and slipping outside. Drying his face with the shirt before slipping it on, the young cop smiles weakly at Grace, "Christ. Lets not do that again."
While waiting for Dr.Rosen, Creed finds a small plastic bag on a nearby cart and deposits his pilfered biohazard container inside before tying it tight. Slightly more satisfied with his safety, he slips it carefully back into a hidden coat pocket.
When the doctor finally makes his appearance, Creed is more than willing to start the conversation. Shooing away the nearby orderlies with a hard stare, he takes Rosen aside, "So, he still warm? Don't suppose you'd have time in your busy schedule to explain what the f*ck is going on here? I'm hardly an expert, but all this doesn't exactly strike me as hospital protocol?"
Grace glances briefly at Charlie's bare torso before turning her head, wringing out her dripping hair and eyeing the wall until Charlie is decent.
"Let's not," she agrees, shaking her hands dry, "God. I need to call the nursing admin, can you hang on?" She approaches a wall phone and blows dust off of it, cradling it to her ear, and dials.
"Keep your voice down," Dr. Rosen hisses, glancing up at the scurrying orderlies. Resignation crosses his face as one of them looks back and then leans over to whisper to her colleague.
"Jesus. Come on." Dr. Rosen rakes a hand through his disheveled hair and pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting up with slightly shaking hands. "That...that wasn't supposed to happen, I assure you. I never meant--"
He stops himself, squeezing his eyes tight: "He's alive. Not much longer, but for now."
"I never expected that," he murmurs, opening his eyes and looking at Creed almost pleadingly, "That's not how a fungus behaves. That's not how anything behaves. Do you understand that? What that could be?"
Creed grinds his teeth, "Nothing good."
He almost feels a stab of pity for Rosen. But then again, the kid was downstairs washing off who knows what because this dipsh*t didn't even consider he might be out of his depth. Nobody ever looks past beneath the surface till it's too damn late.
"So, we're past the conventional then. Anything else you can tell me about the Inez or the other patients? The weird sh*t, you passed off as coincidence or unreliable information before? Put your cards on the table now and the kid and I can quit breaking your balls."
Charlie nods in Grace's direction, running his fingers through his hair to smooth it back, "Then back upstairs. I really don't like leaving Creed alone for too long..."
"I don't know what's going on," Dr. Rosen insists, "I wish I did. This is probably going to cost me my job, after all. It'd be nice to be able to tell my wife why."
He pulls another cigarette out of his pack and offers it to Creed, looking weary: "What a g*@+@!n clusterf@$%."
"What I do know? Patients presenting with symptoms I've never seen before start showing up in the ER or the morgue. I was going to write a paper on it, get my name in a few journals...I wouldn't have done it if it was anyone else, you understand? But this disease isn't affecting anyone important." He pauses. "It wasn't, anyway."
"I'd keep an idea on your partner, if I were you." He blows smoke towards the ceiling. "Whatever was in that man's throat was trying to get out."
"Sure. Just a sec--hi, Jackie?" Grace runs through a brief but sufficient account of the last little while, leaving out some of the less believable parts.
"Okay. See you soon." She hangs up and turns back to Charlie, worry creasing her features. "She'll meet us upstairs. We should take the back ways. Follow me."
Creed snorts disgustedly, "Important? Sh*t Doc. Don't you take an oath about "all life being sacred" or some sh*t?"
"Look, forget about the rest of it. Just get a damn quarantine setup before you start losing people you do give a damn about."
Charlie shakes his head as Grace goes over the last half hour. What a damn mess.
He blows out a deep breath as she hangs up, "Right. Better get this over with...uh, don't suppose there are any shoes down here? Size ten?"