De Profundis Clamant

It all just happened so fast. The robbers storming out of the shop and bumping into Cody and Nick; the struggle and desperate groping for guns; Murray trying to intervene and the third guy, the one they hadn’t noticed - The one they should’ve noticed – levelling the gun on Boz and pulling the trigger.
Time froze. The bullets ripped themselves from the nuzzle of the gun. Horror, pure horror.

Later, they could only remember flashes of the following events, as if they had looked at it through the rhythmic flashes of a stroboscope. Red stains flower on Murray's chest. The slender body crumbles to the ground. A pool of blood grows….All clear, vivid, silent images illuminated by a white light that sharpened the edges and darkened the shadows.
And then, the movie flowed on again. The thugs disentangled themselves from Nick and Cody and stormed away after the shooter. Cody's gaze drifted from Murray's lifeless body to Nick, who was staring at their friend, paralysed with shock. After another second, Nick slowly crawled closer to Boz and carefully turned him over. The thin face was grey and his skin was ice to touch. Cody quickly felt for a pulse and a wave of relief swept over him when he felt the thump under his fingertips, no matter how weak it was. At his friend's silent nod, Nick jumped up and stormed towards the shop to alert an ambulance.
Cody anxiously pulled Murray in an embrace while his free hand vainly tried to staunch the flow of dark blood gushing from the bulletwounds. He was awed at how light and bony Murray actually felt in his arms; the shoulderblades poking him beneath the clothes. He almost jumped out of his skin when Murray suddenly opened his eyes.
"Boz, it's gonna be fine, I promise. Nick's getting an ambulance right now. Everything's gonna be just fine."
The wounded man gave no sign of having heard his friend, but kept staring at the sky, his face a mask of pain. Then, he blinked and his tear-filled eyes met Cody's.
"Murray?"
"…hurts…"
The voice was hoarse, raw with agony. The tears flowed over and spilled down the pale cheeks.
"I know, Murray…Just…just hold on, buddy!"
His grip on his slender friend tightened. Murray closed his eyes and sighed deeply. In one hair-raising flash of insight, Cody realised Boz had stopped breathing.
"Oh God! Oh God! No, No, NO! Murray come on! Come on, don't do this to me, don't you dare do this to me, man!!"
He lay Murray down on the street and gently arched the dark head backwards. He inhaled deeply and covered Murray's mouth with his own, blowing air into the struggling lungs. He pulled back and waited a second, but the action didn't restore Murray's breathing. Suddenly, Nick dropped himself down next to him. Cody looked up, panic written all over his features.
"He ain't breathing, Nick and I think his heart stopped."
His friend nodded curly, his face a white tense mask, and took place beside the dying man. He opened the blood-soaked shirt, grimacing at the dreadful wounds. He placed his hands two inches above the end of the breastbone and compressed Murray's chest three times before Cody blew air into the straining lungs again.
They performed CPR on their friend until the ambulance screeched to a halt beside them. The ME's jumped out and took over the efforts, shocking Murray's heart back into rhythm. As soon as the pulse was somewhat stabilised, they hoisted the wounded man into the ambulance. Cody jumped into the back and Nick took place behind the driver, never losing sight of his friends. The doors were hardly closed when the ambulance screamed its way towards the hospital.

Cody entered the bathroom of the vacant hospital-chamber and turned the faucet of the shower on, letting the water reach the desired temperature while he undressed.
There was blood everywhere, on his hands, his shirt, his pants, his face…everywhere. He was stained with it, tainted with it. Murray's blood. He remembered the dark pools on the grey asphalt, in the ambulance, soaking the emergency bandages as if it was leaving a trail behind so Murray's spirit would be able to follow the red stains back to the place where he had been gunned down. Blood. Blood everywhere as if Murray, in his great kindness, had decided to give a donation to the earth. Gorging the stones with his crimson life-fluid. A donation from which no new life would, could spring forth but only death. A pagan ritual, a sacrifice of blood and tears. The blood had seemed like a living thing coursing through the veins; eager to gush out when released and keen to cover everything with its ruby smear, as if trying to find another vessel to hold it.

Cody couldn't help it, he had to get the blood from him, had to wash the stains away, the testimony of Murray's demise. He had to shower before the dark blood would ingrain itself in his skin, in his soul forever and would never be brushed away. He stepped into the cubicle and allowed the hot water to scourge his face and chest for a few minutes. He grabbed the shower-brush and brushed and brushed until filaments of his own blood mingled with Murray's as it gurgled down the drain.
Blood, Murray's blood, Murray's life all over him, inside him, incrusted in every pore of his skin; every hair on his body soaked with it, every fibre of his clothing tinged with it. He hardly dared touch the heap of bloodied clothing on the floor, so he kinda shuffled them into the plastic bag the nurse had given him, knowing he'd never wear them again. He towelled off, making sure every drop rose-tinted water was rubbed away.
Murray, all of Murray's blood down the drain, down the drain in the sewer, in the sewer finding the blood spilled on the street. Blood reunited together outside the body, the life leaving the body lifeless. Blood mingling with the salt of hundreds of tears cried, cried for this person, this friend who was dying, far beyond their grasp, far out of their reach, beyond their call. Murray was dying, Murray was dead…different in itself but each statement carrying the same raw horrible reality. In the end, the outcome was the same: death. And nothing would ever be the same again.
Cody shook his head, afraid he was going insane, afraid the blood was driving him mad. He looked into the mirror, his eyes were clear, alert though tired. His thoughts were twirling like dervishes in his exhausted mind. He sighed and quickly pulled on the sweatpants and surgical blouse after stuffing the plastic bag in a bin. One more time, he looked at his pale reflection in the mirror and then, rejoined Nick who was waiting for him in the hall.

His friend looked up when he emerged from the room. He slumped his tired body in the plastic chair next to Nick.
"No news yet?"
Nick silently shook his head and leaned back in the grey chair.
"How long has it been?"
"The operation?"
"Yeah."
Ryder looked at his watch and sighed when the lost time became obvious.
"Four hours"
Cody remained silent, but his shoulders sagged as if the weight of the world rested on them.

The small dark-haired nurse approached them noiselessly and stopped right in front of them.
"Mr. Ryder, Mr. Allen, Mr Bozinsky is out of recovery and in his room, you can go see him now."
Nick turned to his friend and looked at him expectantly but Cody shook his head.
"You go. I can't…I…Not yet."

Nick held his friends gaze one long moment and then nodded, understanding. He stood up and followed the petite nurse to Murray's room. Before the door, he hesitated a moment, trying to adjust his image of Boz. He swallowed and entered the room. Nick approached the hospital-bed and grimaced. Murray was hooked up to several IV's and a respirator; the wires from the heart monitor sneaked out from under the beige blankets covering the slight body. He looked so fragile, so pale, almost delicate as he lay there. Something in Nick's shirt pocket distracted him for a moment and he pulled out Murray's glasses the medics had handed him. He gently let his fingertips glide along the rim before placing them almost reverently on the nightstand, in case Murray would wake up.
Wake up…vain hope.
He pulled one of the green chairs closer to the bed and sat down, covering Murray's hand with his own, hoping he'd feel movement there, but his friend remained still. For a moment, Nick's vision misted over and he furiously wiped away the tears.
They didn't know…they didn't know if Murray was gonna make it. His injuries were extremely grave and the operation had been touch-and-go. He might be stable for the moment but he was still in critical condition. The doctor had made it clear to them that optimism at this point would be foolish.
Nick turned in his seat when he heard the door open. Cody stood in the doorway, his eyes anguished and old; the same expression that had haunted them ever since Murray had stopped breathing. Nick knew Cody had been convinced Boz had died right there and then in his arms. And he almost had. They had almost lost him twice more in the ambulance. Twice his heart had stopped and every time, it had been harder for the medics to resuscitate him. The ER doctor who had treated Murray first had painted a gruesome picture detailing the man's injuries. One of the bullets had grazed his heart before ripping through his lung, while the other bullets had lacerated his liver and spleen. Not only had he lost a lot of blood from the bulletwounds, but the internal haemorrhaging was what worried them most. It was a miracle he had survived the shooting so far.

Cody closed the door and approached Nick, accepting his friend's outstretched hand before sitting down in one of the polyester chairs.
"How is he?"
"Bad."
There was no use in hiding the truth, lying would only make it worse if Murray came to die. If Murray came to die…such a horrible thought but a real, a ghastly possibility.
"He looks so…so…"
"Fragile", Nick finished Cody's sentence. "He looks awful, doesn't he?"
"He's not gonna die, Nick."
"Cody…", Nick started, reproaching.
"Come on, Nick! He can't die! He's Murray, our Boz, our own precious little geek. There's no way he's gonna die!"
Nick looked at his friend for a long time and he realised Cody couldn't accept the harsh reality of Murray's condition just yet. He smiled sadly.
Outside, darkness started reaching with groping fingers for the sky as the sun went down in an explosion of colours. A magnificent Californian sunset.

Nick jumped awake gasping when the alarm of the heartmonitor suddenly went off with an ear-splitting peal. The tall night nurse rushed into the room and checked Murray's stats before pushing the alarm. At once, the room filled with doctors and nurses trolling in crash carts and equipment. Cody, who had gone for a cup of coffee hurried in, his eyes wide with panic. They pressed themselves against the wall before the nurses could shoo them out and watched anxiously as the doctor's tried to shock Murray's heart back to life. A few moments later, they had stabilised his sinusrythm and wheeled Boz away for x-rays, because obviously, something had gone wrong. Soon after, they heard the verdict: Murray's liver had started bleeding again and an infection was now raging in the battered body. A new operation would be required to stop the bleeding and find the source of the infection. Whatever meagre chances of survival Murray might've had before, suddenly got a whole lot slimmer.

Life had become a hell of waiting in hot, stale corridors, pacing up and down hallways, hoping against hope, praying to a god they hardly believed in. The operation lasted hours and in the end, the risks were even higher. None of the surgeons were very pleased with Murray's condition, too weak to live but still too strong to die.

Although he would never admit it to Cody, Nick was mentally trying to prepare himself for the worst. The worst being Murray's death. Murray…dead…only words, but the raw naked reality behind them hurt, Hurt, HURT! The entire situation seemed so surreal, so unreal, so impossible. Everything felt so wrong! He felt like he was stuck in some horrible nightmare he was gonna wake up from soon…now…any minute NOW!…please?
He glanced at Cody sitting next to him so quietly, his face hidden in his hands, and sighed. His friend still held out wild hopes, being the eternal optimist, but Nick had no such delusions. Optimism wouldn’t keep you alive in a sticky situation. Optimism could act like morphine, dulling the senses and adding a glow to the world. Realism was hard and gritty, but at least it was real, without embellishments or fringe. But Cody just wasn’t like that and that’s why it would hurt more when reality would sink in. A small muffled sob made him grimace.
Reality sinking in…done.
When he saw the tears on his friend’s face, he encircled the man’s shoulders. As Cody looked up, Nick could see the sad resignation written all over his features. The look he threw his friend was agonised.
”He’s not gonna make it, is he? No use hoping, Murray’s gonna die.”
He said it with a touch of amazement in his voice, surprise at not having realised it before. Nick sighed again, painfully.
”I don’t know, Cody. I just…it doesn’t look good…at all.”
”You’re already saying goodbye, aren’t you?!”
There was accusation, almost venom discernable in Cody’s voice. Nick looked away at some inexistent spot on and beyond the creamcolored wall.
”You already gave up on him, didn’t you!”
Cody’s voice rose slightly in pitch. Nick turned again and threw a hard look at his friend. He seemed unmoved but Cody recognised the shadows in the deep eyes.
”Cody, look, I…I can’t help it. I mean look at him, the state he’s in. he’s a mess and now with the surgery again and the infection….Do you think he’s got much of a chance left? He’s strong, but not that strong! We’re losing him, Cody and there’s nothing we can do about it!”
The blond man flinched at the words and shook his head.
” I know all that, Nick but I can’t give up yet. He’s our Murray, our Boz, he’s the only one we’ve got and I can’t imagine losing him. I’ll only accept he died the moment we’re burying him."
The last words came out strained, proving how difficult it was to say them. When Nick saw the tears brimming in his friend’s eyes, he wrapped his arms around him, trying to comfort, seeking comfort himself, struggling not to think at what life would be like without the Boz.
”I can’t believe this is happening, Nick. I mean, look at us, we’re both ex-military, detectives. We should be able to protect Murray from things like this.”
Nick loosened himself somewhat from the embrace.
”I know, but it doesn’t happen that way, does it? There’s no ESP, no premonition, no omens…No feeling it’s gonna happen. It just…happens and that’s it. Out of our hands, beyond our control. We can’t protect those we love, ‘cause life just doesn’t work that way.”

At last, Murray was awake. Well…at least his eyes were open but Boz wasn’t in them. He just lay there with dull, pain filled eyes. At no point had he given any sign he knew his friends were there, by his side as they had been for the last two weeks. They were worried about brain damage, but a neurologist had assured them that his brainwave patterns were completely normal. The doctor blamed the waking coma on the pain, the shocks of the shooting and the surgery and the drugs.
Every day, all day long, Nick and Cody talked to their friend, recounting the events of the day, reminiscing about old cases, all the while hoping one of the anecdotes would coax a reaction out of the Boz. Hours, days strung together by stories and jokes and tiresome, endless talking.
In the middle of one of Nick’s stories, Cody suddenly put his hand on his friend’s arm, stopping him mid-sentence Nick followed Cody’s pointed finger. A slow tear trickled out of the corner of Murray’s eye and lost itself in the dark hair resting on the pillow. They were immediately beside him, anxiously gazing at his face. But for that tear all was as before. No emotions, no recognition shimmered in the clouded eyes.
”Come on, come on Murray. Come on!”
Nick pleaded his friend, desperation chillingly clear in his voice. But wherever Murray’s spirit wandered, it seemed beyond Nick’s call, roaming on some far-away deserted road.

At night, the nurses forced them to go home. But what was there to go home to? On the Riptide, everywhere they looked was Murray. His books, computers, machines, inventions, the Roboz…Murray was ingrained in their lives. They’d sit there, absent-mindedly watching TV, listening for sounds that weren’t there. Straining to hear the clicks of the keyboard, Murray’s mutters…They’d wake up in the middle of the night from a sound and hardly refrain themselves from saying: “Hey Murray, is that you?”
The Riptide sounded empty without Boz. Only now it dawned on them how much their friend had become a part of them, how integrated he was in their existence. They wandered over the boat, restlessly. Dog-tired but unwilling to sleep because all of their dreams were nightmares. The only time they could find peace was sitting with their friend. They hated it, being away from Murray at night, but the nurses wouldn’t relent. So, they’d crawl into his room on board of the Riptide and fall asleep there. Wake up with a shock, fully expecting to see Boz behind his computer. Nick was tired, exhausted by the single tyrant thought: Murray. His heart was tired of the pain, the fear, the sadness, the waiting. The waiting was the hardest. He’d never been good at it, being a very energetic, strong-minded sort of person, hot-tempered and defenitly impatient.. He felt like shaking Murray out of his lethargy, slapping the numb face and shouting at him to snap out of it, godammit! Instantly, he felt guilty for those feelings, for being angry at Boz who had been counting on them for protection and they had failed miserably. Nick sighed, something he’d been doing a lot lately. It was as if he wasn’t able to breathe normally for a long stretch of time anymore. He had this weight, this pressure on his chest, that couldn’t be dispelled.
It had been an accident, Nick knew that. It could’ve happened to any of them but it had to happen to their Murray. And they felt guilty, guilty because they had failed them. It tore at them that some guy could just whip out a gun and blow their friend away without thinking twice about it. So vulnerable. Who knew life could change in the blink of an eye. A heartbeat and their entire world had been turned upside down.

A few days later, the oxygen tube was removed from Murray’s throat. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when, after a few tense seconds, he started breathing on his own. Another hurdle taken. But still Murray didn’t react to outside stimuli. He seemed to be locked outside his own body, unable to reach out. Stuck in some twilight place between awake and asleep, between awareness and oblivion. The ghastly wounds that marred his body were slowly beginning to heal and although he was doing alright, the risk was still there. Murray had changed so much in the last two weeks. He had been thin before, but now he was positively emaciated. He was wasted away, his face deeply lined with pain, the dark smudges under his eyes making it hard to look at him.
Nick tried not to think about the awful mending wounds hidden beneath the bandages. Murray, who had always been self-conscious about his awkward, bony figure would be even more so now. He grimaced as the image of his friend’s dreadfully scarred body danced before his eyes.
Nick knew for a fact that no one could teach him anything more about heart monitors, O2 output or IV’s. He had learned all from Murray’s stats. The breathing patterns and heartbeat had become so familiar to him, he could almost predict when Murray would shift position. He didn’t think much of it; it’s easy to learn things concerning the ones we love. And Nick couldn’t help it. He loved Murray. He loved Cody too, of course, they’d been friends for so long, but Murray… was special. These two men had won his heart with an ease that surprised him. But what he felt for Murray was much different than his feelings for Cody. The scientist just seemed to scream for protection. He had that emotional, vulnerable, skinny thing going on that made the bear in him come out. So what if he was considered a geek, a nerd. Nick never saw it that way because he knew the depth of Murray’s heart. He was aware of the kindness and gentleness of his friend’s soul and, combined with that astounding intellect, it made Murray a wonderful person. And because Boz just seemed to care so much about everybody, he was often the driving force behind their cases. And because he was Murray, their sweet enthusiastic little geek, they’d rather die than let him down.

And they did let him down. Nick stood up and started pacing the room. It hurt, hurt deeply and acidly to see Murray like this, dying of a wound that was too horrible, too raw, too real for him. Murray wasn’t handsome but he was sweet, intelligent and possessed a kind and gentle soul and all that combined made him beautiful. That’s why the wounds seemed so crude, so ugly because –if he’d survive- they’d change something infinitesimal but extremely important about him. A part of this lovable man would be destroyed, a part of his warm innocence gone. Or was Murray not quite as innocent as they thought? Nick had seen glimpses of something tortured in the depths of his friend’s eyes from time to time and had often wondered about it. How many scars marred Murray’s soul?

”Nick, what’s wrong?”
Cody’s voice startled him out of his dark broodings and he smiled at his friend.
”Just…thinking about Murray, you know.”
”I know.”

Cody stood in front of the window looking out at the world outside. The life they hadn’t felt a part of these last three weeks. The California sun blazed down on the city and reflected off the pavement with a harsh dazzling light. It was beautiful, vibrant, alive. Cody was half-heartedly listening to some story Nick was telling Murray. To their surprise, Quinlan had come to visit in the morning, but he had left a few hours ago. Cody was sure Murray had appreciated it.
”…and it wasn’t until you figured that his computer used that new emsos program that we were able to bust him, remember?”
“…MS DOS…”
A faint hoarse voice whispered the words. The entire world seemed to hold its breath as Cody slowly turned around and Nick hesitantly got out of his chair, wide-eyed.
”You said something there, Murray?”
Nick’s voice was cautious, anticipating.
“You said emsos, it’s MS DOS…”
Murray’s voice was croaky and tired. They approached the bed, holding their breath, and looked at their friend who was rubbing his eyes.
”Murray? How do you feel?”
“Blurry…my glasses?”
Cody grabbed them from the nightstand, where Nick had put them down reverently almost a month ago, and gently slid them on Murray’s nose. A small, relieved smile spread over the hollow face.
’”Better…”
He started to look around and frowned, confusion written all over his face.
” Where…?”
”In the hospital.”
”Why…?”
Genuine wonder was obvious in Murray’s face and voice.
“You were shot, don’t you remember?”
A frown furrowed Murray’s brow as he obviously tried to remember the shooting. Nick and Cody held their breath, partly hoping he would remember, partly wishing the horrible event would have been blotted from his memory.
”Don’t…can’t remember, guys, just…can’t”
His friends exchanged a look laced with relief.
”That’s okay, Boz. The doctor said that might happen.”
”How long? Since…?”
Cody lay a comforting hand on Murray’s shoulder and looked at him earnestly.
“Its been almost a month, Murray.”

Nick looked out of the window of the steering hut at his friends on the deck. Cody was fussing over Murray, making sure he was comfortable in his recliner and out of the sun. He smiled when Murray rolled his eyes at Cody, who was fluffing the pillows for the umpteenth time.
Murray was home. What a glorious thing to say, Murray was home. Still thin, still weak, still hurtin’, but safely home. And in much better condition then when he had woken up almost two months ago. Nick wondered if he’d ever be completely well again. They were so scared for him, afraid he might hurt himself, afraid they might hurt him, afraid he’d catch a cold, an infection, anything. Yeah, they were hovering, treating him like a porcelain doll. But DAMN! They almost lost their best friend, okay, may they please smother! If it were up to them, they’d never set foot in another hospital ever again. Dead-tired of it they were.

Cody finally left Murray alone and entered the cabin, grin all over his face.
”You’re smotherin’ him.”
Cody’s grin widened, making his eyes sparkle.
”He’s home, Nick. I gotta!”
”I know, buddy.”
He did understand Cody’s smothering need. Hell! He was in full mother-hen mode himself. For a long time they had felt so helpless ‘cause there had been nothing they could do except sit there. A month of agonising doubt that Murray would, could survive. And afterwards, the battle to cope with the frustration and pain while Murray struggled through revalidation. The recovery had been slow and strenuous, an uphill battle.
Black days…One of those had been the day Murray’s bandages were removed. The first full view of the healing scars. Nick grimaced when he remembered his friend’s horrified, ashen face. It was the first time since the shooting that Murray had cried. He had held and comforted that thin hurt body, while Murray sobbed in his embrace. He thanked god Cody hadn’t been there to witness it; knowing it would’ve broken his friend. Yeah, that was a black day, but also somewhat of a catharsis for the both of them.

Melba had come, all exuberance, all life. They had been kinda glad when she left, afraid she might wear Murray out. But ‘Scooter’ had been greatly amused, though indeed kinda exhausted by her vivacity.
Murray had been home for two weeks now and everything seemed to be going fine.
Yes, they were being overprotective but honestly, Cody was the worst. Not that it wasn’t understandable, Murray had –basically- died in Cody’s arms at some point. It was that moment that haunted his friend’s nightmares the most. His were populated by images of Boz’ bullet-ridden body or, to be more precise, the moment those bullets tore into that body. Now, since their friend was home, the nightmares were beginning to recede. Less and less were they woken by each other’s nightly screams. The few they had had hadn’t woken Murray, which would’ve been a miracle considering the painkillers and sleeping pills he still had to take. Although his wounds were healing, the scars still hurt.
Thankfully, Murray still didn’t remember anything about the shooting. They were glad for it. There was no need for it to haunt his dreams as it did theirs. All they wanted was for him to concentrate on getting better, on healing. They feared the day he would recall the events even though the doctors had told them the longer it lasted, the less likely.
The thugs that shot Boz had never been caught, the trail long cold now. Quinlan still had someone working on it, just in case. They never knew he could be a friend…or maybe it was just plain old-fashioned tenacity.

The shooting, the fear, the whole mess…it had changed Nick. It was the first time since ‘Nam someone close to him had almost been killed. The harsh re-confrontation with reality had scared the crap out of him, had rattled their lives. Murray had grown older also, quieter, graver. And something strangely shaded and off lay in the depths of Cody’s eyes nowadays. Nick himself had plucked out a few dozen grey hairs since the shooting. He was starting to consider giving up the fight against his greying temples.

He looked at his friends outside and smiled. His life felt good, complete and if it were up to him he’d grow old with these guys. No matter what happened, whatever the future would bring them, they’d always be friends. And when they called to him, Nick picked up his bottle of beer and joined them in the blazing Californian sunlight, with peace in his heart.