Chapter 33- Death Warmed Over

My heartbeat throbbed in time to my harsh breathing as I stood in front of the door, and panic suddenly slammed through my chest when the door flew open in front of me.  The faceless man was standing there, his teeth shining in the dark, and again he had the blade in his hand.  This time it was already covered in blood, and I glanced down at my chest to see sticky red spreading rapidly across my shirt.  The red opened a hole in my chest, and I could see my heart beating through it, hear the loud thud thud thud every time the muscle pulsed another spurt of blood free from my body.  I glanced back up, but the door was closed and the man was gone.  Now the blood rushing through my ears drowned out all other noise, but it sounded unusual, like a rapid series of barks. 

With a gasp I jerked up in bed, my sweaty hair falling in my face. Over Chocolate's vicious growling I heard someone yelling, "McDowell, call your dog off!"

I clambered out of bed, stumbling across the floor and leaning against the wall as I made my way down the hallway.  Starbursts kept flashing in front of my eyes, and intermittent blurs of gray and black kept blocking my vision.

I straightened up but kept a hand pressed firmly against the wall once I recognized the tall figure literally flattened against the door.  Chocolate was raised up on his haunches, both of his front paws planted on Reid's shoulders, barking ferociously in his face, his teeth snapping wildly.

"Chocolate, down!" I commanded, my voice rough from sleep, but he listened and fell back, releasing Reid but standing menacingly in front of him, growling low in his throat.

Frazzled, Reid straightened up and nervously tugged at the hem of his sweater and readjusted the strap of his satchel slung across his chest, but his eyes didn't leave Chocolate for a second.

"Come, boy," I said, trying to keep the weariness out of my voice. 

The dog hesitated for a second longer in front of Reid but then turned and came over by me.  I hooked my fingers in his collar and then pulled him after me until he willingly walked with me down the hall before I shut him in my bedroom, leaving him whining and scratching at the door.  I felt bad, but I didn't have the energy to control my dog and talk to Reid at the same time right now.

"Sorry," I apologized, shoving my hair back out of my face again. 

My legs were cold because I wasn't wearing any pants, but the change in air temperature felt nice through the thin shirt pasted to my skin. 

"Chocolate's a really good guard dog, it's been three days and he still goes rabid on Mrs. Mulcahy," I told Reid, exaggerating only slightly.

"Chocolate?" Reid questioned.  I noticed his gaze flit to my closed bedroom door.

"I like misnomers," I said with a casual shrug, trying to pretend I wasn't sick as I flopped down on one side of the couch so he could sit down next to me. 

The sudden movement sent my thoughts and my eyesight floating out of the top of my head, though, and only rapid blinks cleared my vision enough so I could see him taking a seat on the other side of the couch.  Goosebumps prickled across my bare skin, but it felt like a rush of heat was seeping out across my skin instead of my body trying to keep it in.

"Charlie, are you okay?" he asked, sounding almost cautious.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?  Did you guys solve that last case already?" I asked, a bit surprised.  It had only been a few hours, as far as I knew our job was never that easy.

"Sometimes it only takes two days," he answered nonchalantly.

"Today's Friday," I corrected him.

He stared at me like I had just started speaking German or some other Slavic language he hadn't mastered with his genius IQ yet.

"No, today's Saturday," he informed me, emphasizing each word a little more than necessary.

"What?" I asked.  I had only gone to bed a few hours ago, it was only a little after eleven...though it did feel like I'd been sleeping for longer than that.

He showed me his phone. Under the time, 11: 07 pm, the date read October 22.

"Oh," I said dully, rubbing my eyes again.  I needed to go back to bed.

"What are you doing here, anyways?" I asked, the words falling out of my mouth the minute they popped into my head.

"Sorry it's so late, but we just got back.  You weren't answering your phone so I came to check on you.  How come the door was unlocked?" he questioned.

"That's probably cause it's broken," I answered in reference to the phone before adding, "And Mrs. Mulcahy suggested I should keep it unlocked in case I needed something."

He furrowed his eyebrows and asked, "Who's Mrs. Mulcahy?"

I forgot I hadn't told him about her yet, but it's not like I told any of the team much about me regardless.

"My, uh, eighty-year-old neighbor.  She loves cats and soap operas," I gave a very general description. 

The headache pulsing behind my weary eyes must be why I was having a hard time forming coherent sentences, or at least coherent sentences that didn't sound like they were coming out of an eight-year-old's mouth.

"Oh.  You still shouldn't leave your door unlocked, especially considering those phone calls you got.  Did you get another one, is that why your phone is broken?" he questioned, a tad suspiciously.  He certainly put pieces together quickly, though.

The one small lamp I had left on in the corner of the room kept blurring, like when you take a picture but there's too much glare.  It was distracting, making it hard to concentrate on the words coming out of my mouth.

Which is probably why I flat out told him, "I threw it against the wall."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise and remarked, "I know you have a temper, but why?"

I was too tired to explain the whole thing to him, and I didn't want to rip open the issue I had refused to talk any further about on Tuesday night, so instead I just  shrugged, not even commenting on his profiling me as having anger issues.

He sighed and then repeated, "Are you sure you're okay? You should go see a doctor or something." 

I must have looked really sick if he was suggesting I see a doctor, but I brushed it off by teasing, "You're a doctor, I can see you."

A small smile flitted across his face but he protested softly, "You know what I mean.  An actual doctor, you've been miserable for the past three days."

"How do you know?  Maybe I enjoy being sick, and I slept through one of the days, so it couldn't have been that bad, right?" I objected sarcastically.

My head was still pounding and I could feel the itch in my throat that meant the cough medicine was wearing off, but I was attempting to ignore it.

He shook his head and I could have sworn he was trying to hide a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  I couldn't tell when he started talking again, though. 

"If you say so, Charlie.  Anyways, I should probably get going.  It's late, and despite what you say, you need to get some sleep or you'll never get better," he said, getting up from the couch.

I opened my mouth to deny it with another sarcastic comment, but he stopped me by pointing out, "It's a scientific fact that rest when you're sick helps you get better more quickly," and then adding, "Get some sleep.  I'll see you on Monday," on his way out the door.

He closed it behind him, and I got up and locked it before turning off the lamp I had inadvertently left on last night and heading to the bathroom.  I flicked the light on so I could see in the mirror, but even while squinting from the bright fluorescents, I could tell why he had been so concerned for my well-being.

I looked like the zombie bride in every cheesy Frankenstein movie ever made. My hair was a tangled mane surrounding my pale face, and there was no sheen to my skin, like someone had rubbed chalk dust all over it.  Dark half-moons had set under my glassy eyes, and the only thing missing was hollowed out cheeks.

I certainly felt like death warmed over, too, so I took two more aspirin and another large swig of cough syrup straight from the bottle before returning to my room.

The minute I opened the door to my bedroom, Chocolate rushed out and then went and checked the whole apartment, sniffing every surface any part of Reid's body had come in contact with before, satisfied with his findings, he came back by my side.  I closed my door again and then climbed in bed, and Chocolate bounded up onto the mattress next to me before settling back down. 

It wasn't until I was curled back up under the blankets, waiting for the medicine to kick in so I could fall asleep, that I realized I had just had a whole conversation with Reid in my underwear.  Sure, I had been wearing a T-shirt, but it wasn't long enough to cover anything below my hips.  I groaned in dismay but tried to forget about it, I wouldn't have to see him until Monday morning at work.  That is, if I didn't sleep through a whole day again.