Chapter Eleven
With shaking hands, I pulled the Silvers file from the drawer of the bedside table. I knew I would have to re-live everything, but my curiosity overpowered all logical thought. I opened the file, and could tell instantly that Ziva had organized it. Blythe's written confession rested on top.
I skimmed slowly through the whole file in disbelief at what I found. I flipped through evidence logs, witness statements, and Silvers' military records. I stopped at the crime scene photos, running my fingers across each of them. I tried to push the photos aside, but couldn't pull my eyes away. It was like Rachel was in my arms all over again, weighing me down. Ava's cooling body still lay in Silvers' bed, a scream forever trapped in her eyes and throat.
I pulled those photos from the file and put them face down on the beside table, but the images were burned into my memory. I looked back down at the file and noticed another batch of photos, developed side turned away and stuffed into the back of the folder. I pulled them from the file and turned them toward me. It was another crime scene- my apartment...
The first photo was of my kitchen. There was debris all over the floor, and...Lisa's blood on the oven and tiles. Another photo was of my living room. My phone lay in pieces all over the floor, along with my handcuffs, and a pool of blood-- mine. The next few photos were of my broken window, the bullet hole in the ceiling, and my gun with bloody fingerprints on it. The last photo fell into my lap. James Silvers stared up at me from my bedroom floor, with two holes in his chest.
A pained expression spread across my face and I covered my eyes with both hands as someone walked in. I assumed it was a nurse, so I ignored them and sighed into my palms.
“Find what you were looking for?”
I jumped, and the file slid into the floor.
“Boss!”
Gibbs stared at me.
“Ya didn't answer my question.”
“Oh, right.” I swallowed. “Rosetta Stone was what Silvers was muttering under his breath, before I...before I shot him.”
“Hmm.”
“Rosetta Stone was a person...is a person. Silvers' ex.”
“Yep.”
“They developed an idea together, a way to communicate without learning a language.”
“Go on.”
“And then... you scared me and I dropped the file.”
Gibbs sat down in the chair beside my bed, scooping up the file and tossing it into my lap. I found where I was before the photos and continued to read.
“They believed it was possible to communicate...through scent?” I found a packet of research in the file. “They've got some pretty convincing theories and tests...”
I looked at Gibbs, confused.
“Boss, this is the most far-fetched thing I've ever heard.”
“Do ya think, McGee?”
Gibbs leaned onto the edge of my bed and rested his chin in one of his palms. I continued.
“Rosetta Stone, formerly Catherine Pictan, dropped out of Georgetown University her sophomore year, taking Silvers' ideas with her.”
Gibbs just looked at me.
“Rosetta Stone developed a fragrance line and became successful from her 'International Scents'. The most popular being... 'Dew Covered Lilacs'?”
“Now that's far-fetched,” Gibbs retorted.
“Silvers was killing women who were foreign language majors and wore Rosetta Stone's perfume?”
“You've got the file,”
“I should have figured it out, Boss.”
“And how would you have done that, Tim?”
“I smelled 'Dew Covered Lilacs' at every crime scene! Lisa wears it!”
Gibbs shook his head. “There was no way we could have figured out fast enough that this bastard was killing over perfume and an ex.”
Gibbs was right. This is the craziest thing I've ever heard! People have killed for less...
That particular thought saddened me most of all, and I sighed again.
“Satisfied? The Director was looking for that.”
I handed Gibbs the file, and he got up.
“Uh...Boss? Can I ask you for a favor?”
Gibbs turned and looked at me skeptically.
“I need to see Lisa.”
Gibbs' skepticism turned into a smile. It was the first time I'd ever seen him really smile.
“I'll see what I can do.”
Gibbs opened the door and began to leave, but stopped.
“And tell Ziva if she ever takes a file again, she'll be waking up in Tel Aviv.”
My eyes widened and I bit my lip. Gibbs left the door cracked as he left, and I saw him confront a nurse.
I took my chance and leaned forward. A searing pain shot across my side, and dizziness washed over me.
“Ugh...”
I touched my side for the first time since I'd been stabbed. I was covered in gauze and tape. I guess they'd been changing it when I was asleep...
The pain continued to grow as I swung my feet over the side of the bed. The floor was ice on my toes.
I noticed a small package on the floor next to the radio from Ziva and the phone from Abby. I pulled the box up beside me, onto the bed, and opened it. A note in Tony's quick handwriting was on top:
“Before you get all weird on me, Abby picked the sizes. I think she was being nice, so if they're eight sizes too small...”
I smiled and set the note aside.
The plain box contained a pair of distressed jeans, a designer shirt and undershirt, a pair of leather slip on shoes, and... boxer briefs? There was a red post-it note stuck to them.
“Tony didn't see these! XOXO, Abby.”
Something else in the box caught my eye.
A pack of ACE bandages were stuck in one of the shoes, with no note. Thank you, Gibbs.
I stood slowly, trying to keep my balance. I unhooked my IV bag from the stand and grabbed the box. Out of habit I tucked the box under my arm, and tried not to yell in pain as it pressed against my side. I doubled over and shuffled into the bathroom.
After tossing the box onto the counter, I placed the IV bag into the sink, and slowly removed the needle from my arm. I tried not to gag when my arm began to bleed a little. I pulled off my hospital gown and threw it in the floor, changing into the clothes Tony and Abby picked out for me. The pants fit perfectly, and I couldn't help but smile. I left the designer shirt in the box, but pulled on the gray undershirt. It covered the gauze nicely. I leaned against the sink and struggled into my shoes, trying not to bend over.
I tiptoed to the door and peeked out, making sure no one was looking. Gibbs was leaning against the nurses station, laughing with a redhead in pink scrubs. He saw me but didn't miss a beat as I made a break for the elevator.
“Excuse me, sir!” I saw a nurse coming toward me. Damn!
“Yes?” I tried to look nonchalant.
“Are you looking for someone?”
I smiled in relief. “Actually, I was looking for Lisa Favereaux.”
“Favereaux. Sounds familiar, let me check.”
She walked over to the nurses station and began typing on the computer. I prayed that the other nurse being distracted by Gibbs wouldn't see me as this nurse met me back at the elevator.
“Elizabeth M. Favereaux, room 106. A floor down.”
“Thank you.” The elevator doors opened and I tried to step in.
“Not so fast! Are you family?”
I swallowed as Gibbs looked up at me again. We made brief eye contact.
“Yes, I'm..her husband.”
“I'd be happy to escort you then, Mr. Favereaux. I was already on my way down.”
After nodding a 'Thank You' to Gibbs, I followed the nurse into the elevator, wondering how long it would take for the other nurses to realize I was gone.
---*---*---*---
“This way.”
I followed the nurse down a wide hallway. This floor had a completely different atmosphere than the one I escaped from. Everyone looked grave. I didn't hear as many voices, but the beeping of machines stretched across the near silence and bounced along the walls instead.
The nurse grabbed my arm before I could enter room 106.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Favereaux, I usually don't do this. Your wife...she looks a lot worse than she is. Dr. Foster says she should wake up at any time.”
“O-okay...Thank you.” I felt a lump catch in my throat as the nurse let me go and walked away. I took a deep breath and opened the door to Lisa's room.
I heard the faint beeping that represented Lisa's heartbeat as I approached her bedside. I gasped when I saw her. My knees went weak and I sank into a chair.
Lisa's head was wrapped completely in bandages, but somehow I knew that they had shaved off her beautiful hair. Her right cheek was purple and blotchy, and a line of stitches ran through it and up toward her eyebrow. Her right eye was swollen shut, and her nose looked crooked and broken. I could still make out the almost black imprint of Silvers' hands around her small neck.
I struggled for breath, but refused to look away. Lisa was broken, and it was my fault. I needed to look.
I leaned forward, and the pain in my side was excruciating, but I didn't move. I reached for Lisa's tiny hand and took it in both of mine.
“Lisa,” I whispered. “You have to pull through, Lisa. I promised your brother I'd watch over you. I promised.”
I paused and let out a rattling sigh.
“Please, Lisa. I need you to wake up so I can tell you...So I can tell you how much I care for you. How your laughter is contagious, and that your cooking is better than my mom's.”
A sad excuse for a laugh escaped my lips as my eyes began to burn with tears.
“Lisa...Leese. I need you. You've woken me up. I'm really awake for the first time from my haze and I see the beauty in things... in you. I never noticed before. You've shown me everything.”
What am I saying? It's like someone else is talking for me...
I began to feel weak, and couldn't quite grip Lisa's hand anymore. I looked down and my gray shirt had a new red stain the size of a dinner plate. My head began to drop and my eyelids got heavy. I looked up at Lisa and a tear sparkled on her unbruised cheek. I wanted so badly to wipe it away, but my head fell into her lap and the room began to spin.
I hadn't heard the intercom announcing I was missing. It would have been in code, of course. I didn't notice the team of nurses rush in. I didn't see Lisa's heart monitor flat-line, or feel the blood that continued to soak into my shirt.
I listened to Lisa's angelic voice inside my head as I surrendered to a warm and welcoming darkness.