Chapter 29
She could hear voices, coming from somewhere above her. Victoria listened, and realized with relief a moment later that she could understand what they were saying. Now if she could just open her eyes. Her lashes fluttered, as she tried to order stubborn lids to move, to let her see what was going on.
"Did Agent Garrett really sleep out there all night?" Jemma asked as she and Skye looked out the window and watched John folding up his sleeping bag.
"I think so." Skye said as she waved down at him. "He was there right before it got dark, anyway, and it doesn't look like he had moved this morning."
Garrett? What was John doing here? Victoria's eyelashes fluttered more, and this time the lids slid up a bit, enough for her to realize that she was in her office, tucked into a bed on the floor, and the hacker from Coulson's team and the biochemist were standing by her window, looking down on what she could only assume was Garrett. She tried to move, but it only caused a throbbing, aching wave of pain to shoot down her body, and she involuntarily let out of weak moan. If John was here because he hadn't listened to her, and the IRS was after him, he was just going to have to go to prison. She felt too bad to even think of looking at his taxes.
"Agent Hand?" Jemma spun around and saw that Victoria's eyes were open. She hurried over and knelt down beside her. "How are you feeling, ma'am?"
"Hurts." Another throbbing, aching wave of pain washed over her, and she closed her eyes hoping if she didn't move a muscle it would help just a bit. "Garrett, what's he doing here?" Obviously Coulson's team was here to help with the flu. Of course the director would send his pet. There was no need to ask about that.
"He showed up yesterday to check on you." Skye called from the window. "He seemed pretty worried."
Pretty worried. What in the world had he done to his taxes? "How many notices from the IRS does he have?" Talking hurt too, not her throat, but the vibrations from her voice made her entire body throb more. Jail, John would just have to resign himself to jail until she felt better, and from the way she felt at the moment, better was a long way off. Jail would probably be good for him.
"The IRS? I don't see anything like that." Sky replied. "I think he's reading the Bible right now."
The Bible? John had turned to prayer? What had he tried to deduct? She had clearly told him that the last deduction he had tried to come up with was something that no amount of creative explanations would make make the IRS accept as a business expense. Obviously he hadn't listened. but if he was turning to prayer…. Were they letting the IRS execute people for irregularities now? "What did he do?" Jail was fine, but if they were planning to execute him… Victoria forced her eyes open once more and somehow ordered her arms to move, to try lever herself up. No matter how bad she felt, if they were going to execute John for screwing up his taxes, she was going to have to do something about it. The movement sent almost unbearable pain shooting down her body, and her arms gave way, sending her collapsing back onto her bed once more, with the little biochemist barely catching her in time to keep her from hitting her head.
"Ma'am, don't move. You've been very sick. You need to stay still, alright?" Jemma told her. Maybe she had lightened the sedation a bit too soon? If Agent Hand tried to move now, all she would do would make herself weaker, and possibly cause problems with her recovery.
"AC just brought breakfast around. Want to try to eat some more and then go back to sleep?" Skye added as she came over. Poor Agent Hand. It looked like even opening her eyes was painful, so why in the world had she tried to get up? "We have oatmeal, and some more ice cream."
Before either of them could say anymore, they heard a phone ringing. "It's not mine." Skye said as she looked around, and then spotted the phone, knocked into a corner. Obviously Agent Hand's. She reached out and after a moment's hesitation answered it. "Hello?"
John sighed when someone answered. Calling Vic's phone was the only think he could think of to do. When both of Coulson's girls had vanished from the window, he knew something was going on. "Is Vic awake?"
"She just woke up." Skye replied.
"That's him?" But who else would be calling her? She clearly had ordered Fury not to call. She remembered that now. "Ask him what in the world he deducted that he thinks prayer is the only solution!"
Deductions? What was she talking about? Skye and Jemma shared a look of confusion.
"Can you put her on the phone?" John asked. Vic was going to be lucky if she didn't convince those two that the fever had fried her brain like those doctors of Fury's were trying to claim. They obviously didn't know about her accounting past.
Was a phone call okay? Skye wasn't sure but she handed over the phone anyway, tucking it next to Agent Hand's ear, so she wouldn't have to move and try to hold it.
"Garrett, what did you deduct? I clearly told you that the IRS was never, ever going to buy what you were trying to claim as a business expense. You deducted it anyway, didn't you?" Throb, throb, throb. The pain was almost constant but she somehow managed to keep talking. "When is the IRS planning to execute you? I'll try to get an extension." With how she felt, maybe she could terrify them into coming through with an extension?
"Vic, the IRS isn't after me. No questionable deductions."
"You're reading the Bible, and praying. You did something."
"I came to visit a sick friend, who's been unconscious for three days with the flu. That's all I did, I swear." Probably better not to let her know that the prayers had been on her behalf. Vic still sounded like she was in major pain, and if she was letting how bad she felt slip out in her voice, he didn't want to think of how she was feeling. Letting her know she had been sick enough that he thought praying for a miracle might be her only chance, he couldn't see that doing anything good. "It's okay. You just let Coulson's kids take care of you, okay? Let them take care of you and try to go back to sleep."
"You're up to something." But sleep, at least if she slept, maybe she wouldn't hurt so much?
"Just visiting a sick friend, that's all. Come on, go back to sleep. You're not going to be able to get on your feet and yell at me when I actually DO something wrong if you don't get your rest."
"He's right. Rest is what you need." Jemma adjusted the IV and injected more medication into the port. "That ought to help a bit with the pain. Let's see if you can eat a bit, and then you can go back to sleep, alright? Really, ma'am, that's what you need to worry about right now, resting and getting your strength back."
"Vic, listen to them, okay? Let them feed you and then go back to sleep. It's going to be okay."
She felt the medicine starting to take hold, the pain easing as the urge to close her eyes and drift off washed over her. "Just don't touch anything or break my building." She ordered Garrett before giving in, letting her eyes slip closed, drifting into semi-consciousness once more as Jemma coaxed a bit of the oatmeal into her. Maybe food, and when she woke up again, maybe the pain would be gone.