Sedimentary, My Dear Watson

[Boulder]

Boulder snapped out of his somber mood. "Oh yea! Something else just came to me that might be helpful! I just remembered that before I was attacked, I was walking past a store. A grocery store I think it was...with a bunch of cops milling around it. They were yelling over bullhorns, telling everyone to be on the lookout for a mutant that shot lazers from his hands. To be careful, because he had apparently just robbed the store, and might be in the area."

Boulder's countenance darkened a little. "If I was attacked because someone thought I was that guy.... I swear if I find that lazer shooting guy....I'll....I'll.............He's responsible for this...." He looked up from his brooding, towards the officers. "Isn't he...?"

[Dwayne Stiles]

Something, just for a moment, got Stiles scared. He took a step back, holding up his hands defensively, "W-wait a second. Y'all did that? Y'all ripped them bricks from the walls?" He shook his head disbelievingly , "Ya know, I know y'all strong like, but I ain't seen nuthin' like this before."

Despite Jackson's warning look, silently telling him to calm down, Stiles continued to let his feelings grow wildly. He was not about to calm down soon, and Boulder's next stream of words only served to heighten his suspicions. "Laser mutant? C'mon, man, don't be --"

Damn. He's one of 'em.

"No way! Y'all gotta be kiddin' me! Y'all one o' them, ain't ya?" Suddenly, he wanted to get as much space between him and Johnson as possible. Stiles stumbled back a few steps, shaking his head rapidly, "This is crazy. I can't deal with this stuff, man."

Drawing his gun, he pointed with an arm he was desperately trying to steady, "Jackson - we have a problem."

[Boulder]

Boulder's face darkened. His right eye twitched. "I'm being threatened again? Within twenty-four hours of being mugged and possibly almost killed? By a man of the law none the less..." The hospital shook slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if a giant had stomped on the ground, miles away.

Boulder shook his head. The drugs were still making him woozy. He heavily lay back in his bed and closed his eyes. "What do I care now...without that money, gramma will probably die within the month anyway." He turned his head to the right, trying to hide the tear he felt trying to escape his right eye.

His eyes snapped open, wet with the promise of tears held back, and glared at Stiles. "I get mugged, try and defend myself, and now you want to KILL ME??" Boulder's breathing became labored. There was a loud crack, and a spray of dust as a cinder block below the window broke it's mortar. It was accompanied by the scraping of cement on cement as it slowly fell free of the wall and clattered to the ground.

William glanced over at the fallen brick and squeezed his eyes shut, but a few tears trickled out anyway. "See that? I can't even keep a job because of that... Because of people who are afraid of me, even tho I've done nothing to them... People like you... Have you ever had to live off of welfare? Go down to the office to collect a Social Security check?" Another crack near the door heralded another block breaking free to fall to the ground.

"I doubt it...."

[John Jackson]

"Detective," Jackson muttered, the warning tone in his voice compounded by the flash of a glare in his eyes. "Put the gun away."

His attention shifted towards their victim, all the while fighting to ignore the rather disconcerting rumbling of the building as it was slowly demolished - somehow - by Boulder's powers. "Mr Johnson," Jackson said with as calming a tone as he could muster, hands held out to try and soothe the situation. "I appreciate that you're aggitated, but I need you to calm down." The room continued to shake; the disturbances had caught the attention of the nurses and other patients, and muffled cries of "Earthquake!" were already flying around the room.

Jackson felt his jaw clench in frustation. His partner would be getting an earful about this later, provided their ears - and the rest of them - managed to survive without being crushed underneath a collapsing hospital. "William!" Jackson tried, a little more firmly, fighting the urge to let his hand stray towards his own gun. "I know things don't seem fair right now, but unless you stop right now, you're going to hurt a whole lot of people!"

The expression on the Boulder's face remained unchanged, anger driving him now and preventing Jackson's words of reason penetrating through. The Detective's hand clenched into a fist. Fine.

Holding his arms wide, Jackson gestured around himself. "You think this is unfair?" He shouted as still more bricks tumbled from around them, the light fixtures, wall pannels, tiles and everything else that had been attatched raining down around them. "Lets talk about fair," he growled. "Lets talk about the people who's homes you ripped apart last night, and who's belongings you destroyed. Lets talk about the thousands of dollars that are going to be spent clearing up after that mess you caused last night, and the innocent citizens of this city - people just like your grandmother - who are going to pay for that through taxes."

Jackson's eyes narrowed. "And what about the people you're going to hurt right now with this selfish outbust? Cut the B.S, Mr Johnson. This world of ours is only unfair because of people like you who think only of themselves."

[Boulder]

"It's not my fault!!" Boulder closed his eyes and drew in deeps breaths, trying to calm himself. After a few minutes of heavy breathing, silence finally followed. He opened his eys slowly and repeated, "It's not my fault....I..." He averted his eyes. "I can't always control it.... That's why I keep losing jobs. That's why that..." he nodded towards the fallen blocks in his room, "...keeps happening...I can't control it...not when my emotions get out of hand."

An awkward silence decended on the room. "I wasn't in a residential area by the way. There may have been some appartments, yea...but I was afraid for my life. I know that does not make it better, or less of an excuse, but...." he looked up at Jackson, "I don't want to hurt anyone. Not unless I have no other choice."

A grin slowly spred out on Boulder's face. "Ya know... Rather than spend those thousands of dollars to fix what I did with machines, I could probably do it myself. You are right, those people don't deserve what happened to thier buildings because of what I got caught up in. I could probably put them back together within a day. I'd say that's probably what you'd call 'fair', yes?"

[John Jackson]

Jackson's eyes narrowed. While he didn't doubt that some aspects of this guy's story were true, there were parts of it that left him uneasy. Such a violent and aggressive outburst didn't really tally with someone trying to run away: it seemed more like someone lashing out after being backed into a corner. Given the sheer size of Mr Johnson, and his particularly destructive powers, he was struggling to believe that the two figures he'd "remembered" climbing out from the rubble in the alley might have put him in danger as severe as their "victim" implied.

Jackson let out a sigh, the tone in his voice softening with relief, and a slight pang of sympathy. If anyone knew about having an ability they couldn't easily control, it was him. "I'm sorry, Mr Johnson," he said quietly, and calmly. "But I'm afraid your abilities - mixed with that temper of yours - make you a pretty dangerous individual." His shoulders slumped, as his mind searched for the words that could convey the severity of the situation without setting off another outburst. "Despite your intentions, and your -" he struggled to find the right term "- special circumstances, your actions have broken the law, and we will need to press charges."

He stepped a little closer to the bed, a grimace forming on his face. He reached out, trying to rest a reassuring arm on the victim's arm. Suddenly, images smashed into him: memories racing through his mind. He was running down an alley; his vision was strange, distorted, coming at him in pulses in rhythm with his footsteps. Two figures appeared; the alley was shadowed, but he recognised at least one of them from his earlier borrowed memories. Maybe Johnson was right - muggers, coming after him in an alley. An unseen force gripped hold of the bag in his arms - No! That money is for gramma! - and ripped it open, exposing the fistfuls of cash to the cold night air...

Jackson started, hand snapping away. Fistfuls of cash? Didn't this guy say that he'd gone or a welfare check? Even if the whole lot had been given to him in dollar bills, there's no way it would add up to that many notes. Just what was going on here? A few flashed memories showed notes fluttering free of the bag and onto the ground: he'd have to wait until forensics was done to see what light could be shed.

Jackson fought down the scowl that threatened to form on his face - why did everyone have to lie? - and briefly turned his attention back to Mr Johnson. "Some uniformed police officers will be along shortly to keep an eye on you," he explained, the caring note in his voice from earlier somewhat diminished. "They'll keep an eye on you until you're healthy enough to be taken into custody."

His eyes flicked to Dwayne, the intensity of his glare beaming out of his eyes like lasers. "Detective," he almost growled. "A word."

[Dwayne Stiles]

In all truth, Stiles had wanted to go and hide under something - anything - to protect himself from the walls that threatened to crumble down on them at any moment. At Jackson's order, he slowly lowered his weapon, keeping his eyes fixated on Johnson even as he replaced it in the holster at his ribs.

He almost lost his footing in the confusion that followed, his arms pinwheeling as he sought for balance, but as it stopped, he looked over with awe at his partner, and was immediately nervous again, for the Chicagoan seemed angerier than he had ever seem him before, despite the calming tone he was trying to maintain.

Rubbing his hands at the back of his neck, it was all Stiles could to to simply nod in agreement as Jackson explained Johnson's predicament. And when he asked for a word, Stiles suddenly felt an inch tall, or like a child about to be scolded for playing in the dirt in his Sunday best. Or, indeed, something like that.

Following Jackson out of the room, Stiles waited until the door to the ward was completely closed before he began: "I'm sorry, man. Damn, that just freaked me out. Y'all could see he was tryin' to kill us - I - I didn' know what else to do!"

[John Jackson]

Jackson held up a hand to silence his partner. "We'll worry about that later," he muttered under his breath, voice earnest but quiet so as not to be overheard. He winced momentarily, wondering how he could sell this without Dwayne catching wind of the reason behind his intuition. Given his display a few moments before, now definately wasn't the time to drop the "Oh, by the way: I have mutant powers" bomb.

Searching the floor for inspiration and finding none, Jackson forced his eyes back towards Dwayne's. "I have a -" Another grimace. "- a hunch. Our witness said something about a bank robbery, very few of the guys injuries look consistant with the kind of blunt force trauma you'd expect from his story..." His voice trailed off, an appologetic smile forming on his face. "Things just don't add up."

A nurse wandered past; Jackson zipped his lip until she was out of earshot. "I need you to head back to the precinct: see if the initial crime scene report has been sent over from forensics yet, and search the records for any bank hits in that area last night." He gave Dwayne's shoulder a slight pat and squeeze. "I'm gonna wait here for the uniforms to show up. Call me when you find something."

[Boulder]

"You guys are just as hypocritical as the rules at high school. I act in self defense and you wanna press charges against me, just like the school wanted to kick me out," Boulder muttered to himself. He pulled the IV from his arm. He was tired of being in that stupid hospital. He went overhimself mentally. His leg still hurt, but it was stitched up and no longer bleeding. He shook his head to try and clear the fog of the drugs in his mind, and swung his feet over the edge of the bed.

He slowly stood and tested his injured leg. Walking would be a problem right now. Boulder grabbed the roller that the IV drip was on and used that to help him over to his cloths. He tossed his worn out cloths onto his bed, then sat down beside them. Carefully, he put his jeans on so that his boxers wouldn't be exposed in the back of the hospital gown. He thought about putting his shirt, shoes and socks on, but just decided to do it later. He stuffed the rest of his cloths in the green plastic bag the hospital provided for him.

He then turned his attention to the fallen cinderblocks in his room and gave a heavy sigh. "Can't leave it like that..." Carefully using his power, which was sluggish to respond through the haze of drugs, he lifted the block back into it's place, and with a concerted effort, manipulated the moartar to hold the brick back in place. He repeated the process on the other three that had fallen, putting peices back together if blocks were chipped. It took a few minutes, and when he was done, he was sweating from the exersion of doing it through the drugs, but room looked whole again, like nothing had gone wrong in the first place. Also, the haze in his mind had lifted a little as the use of his power helped to remove the effect of the drug a little faster that it would otherwise.

He caught his breath and stood up, using the rolling IV drip to help him walk, and went to the door. Boulder turned the handle, pulled the door open, and walked out. Detective Jackson was looking right at him as he stepped through. Looking at the officer, Boulder calmy told him, "I'm leaving. I'm going home."

[John Jackson]

Jackson's eyes narrowed, his muscles tensing. His hand strayed towards his gun, but with an effort, he held it at bay. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Mr Johnson," he tried, but between what he'd seen with his own eyes, and the memories still unfurling in his mind, there was no way he'd be able to do anything about it.

A ping echoed down the corridor; Jackson barely contained his relief as a trio uniformed Police Officers stepped out. Back up. Finally - some good luck. Taking a cautious step forward, hand resting on the butt of his sidearm, he held up a hand to try and preempt any rash motions their "victim" might try to make.

"I need you to step back inside, Mr Johnson," he managed calmly, "Or these officers and I will be forced to remand you in custody."

[Boulder]

Boulder stood still and slowly blinked as he looked at Jackson. He put on a half ignorant, half tired / irritated face and said, "Take me into custody? On what charges and with what proof?"

[John Jackson]

"You openly admitted to being responsible for ripping down those walls," Jackson said flatly, quickly running out of all patience with the man. "I'm not sure what planet you're from, but down here on Earth - and in the city of New York - that's called 'destruction of property'."

He shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. "The law doesn't care whether you meant to do it or not, Mr Johnson. We're just here to make sure that justice is served to all the people who have been harmed by your actions."

[Boulder]

Boulder tossed Jackson a half-cocked grin. "Well, as nice as that is, it does not mean anything. You see, you didn't read me my Miranda rights. Any testimony from an accused person is not admissible in court without all the proper procedure being followed. If you were to bring that against me, it would be tossed out of court as inadmissible evidence."

[John Jackson]

Jackson let out a growl. "How about we assume that I know a little bit more about police proceedure than what you've managed to pick up from TV, eh?"

The look in Boulder's eyes just illustrated his resolve that his understanding was correct. Jackson let out a sigh, and delved into his pocket, pulling out his notebook. "You see this?" he asked, waving it at Boulder. "This is my notebook, which I wrote down everything you stated, including your admission that you caused the extensive damage we found at the crime scene."

"Now, you're right," he admitted. "Admitting to causing that damage wasn't a sworn statement, and wouldn't hold up as evidence in course." The smile that flashed on Jackson's face was more of a grimace than anything else. "This notebook on the other hand will: it will corroborate my testimony, and that of Detective Stiles, that we witnessed your confession."

Slipping the notebook back in his pocket, Jackson took a step forward. "Because you're a patient in hospital, we can't take you down to the station until you're well enough to be discharged. However, from the look of things, you're healthy enough to go for a little walk."

Jackson's hand fished out the pair of handcuffs from his belt. "William Johnson: I'm placing you under arrest on charges of criminal damage. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you." Jackson held up the handcuffs, and gestured for Boulder to turn around. "Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"

[Boulder]

Boulder didn't move. Didn't speak. He just stared at Jackson. Not with malice or anger, but more with a feeling of being let down. Almost depression.

Everyone sees me and assumes I'm stupid just because I'm a big guy. Nobody could ever look at me and tell that five years ago, I used to be an 'A' student on the honor roll before the school kicked me out for defending myself.

But...more to the point...what do I do now...?

Resisting arrest would surely get him in jail, even if the vandalism charges didn't stick, which he didn't think they would.

After a few tense seconds, he nodded at Jackson. "mhm."

He let go of the IV drip and turned around. But when he placed his weight on his injured leg, he felt a stitch break and searing pain shoot up his leg, as he fell to the ground with a stifled cry.

[John Jackson]

"Oh, for crying out loud," Jackson muttered, rolling his eyes. At this hour of the night - in fact, they were fast approaching breakfast time by now - he wasn't in the mood for theatrics.

Clipping the handcuffs back onto his belt, he took a few paces back to clear a path for the nurses that had run over, and then turned away. The two uniformed Police Officers moved towards him as he approached. "Keep an eye on him," he instructed, keeping his voice low. "He isn't to leave his hospital room until he is discharged; as soon as he is, you slap him in cuffs and bring him to the station. Understood?"

One of the Officers nodded. "Sure thing, Detective."

Jackson risked a brief glance over his shoulder. "Call me if anything happens."

Without another word he paced past them and into the lift, prodding the ground floor button with a finger. As the lift pinged and the doors rumbled closed, he casually spared a thought to how he might get home. His eyes closed in frustration, and he let another sigh escape him. "Shouldn't have sent my ride home," he muttered.

[Boulder]

I don't have much time... Jackson and Stiles were gone, but the two police "guards" were ever-present outside Boulder's room, even if they were relaxed and talking.

Boulder's thoughts swirled as he weighed his options. In order to help himself think, he had removed the morphine IV from his hand, but left it on top of his hand, to at least make it look like it was still in. If I stay here, they'll take me to holding to try and be processed. Despite what the detective says, and that he assumes I'm a dumb brute, I know they don't have anything that will stick....but Grandma will be worried about me if I'm not home in another day or two, and they could hold me for 3... And I can't let her find out I'm a mutant...

If I sneak out...they could arrest me for sure on charges of resisting arrest... William let out a deep sigh. But...even if that's the case, at least resisting arrest is a non-mutant related charge...and it WOULD be my first offense, so in all probability, I'd get off with minimal jail time at worst, and most likely a fine, which I'd have no money to pay, or community service...which wouldn't be so bad I guess...

DAMN these self-righteous asses of police officers. Regardless of what I said about how I did the damage to the walls, it is a clear cut case of self defense...and I even offered to fix the problem myself, which is probably what a judge would have made me do ANYWAY. Freakin' cops don't give a damn about people like me....

That settles it then....I have to get out.

He didn't have to wait long. His leg still had a busted stitch that needed to be replaced, and a doctor or nurse would be along soon enough to work on that. He'd have to start right away. He quickly grabbed his shirt from his bag and put it on, slipping it under his hospital gown.

About three more minutes passed before a nurse finally came to look at him. Three minutes wasn't much, but it had been almost twenty since he'd fallen when Jackson wanted to cuff him. So much for fast service.

The woman stopped to nod at the officers and entered. Now's the time. Boulder stiffened as she came in, widened his eyes, and stared at her, trying to look petrified.

She smiled easily, "There's nothing to be afraid of. Unless....is a big man like you afraid of needles? It's ok. Lots of people are. Let's get you patched up."

She stepped towards Boulder and he stiffened more. "No...stop...don't dome closer..." She took another step. "No...please don't!" Gotta be careful here.... Using his power, he shook the walls to the room ever so slightly, and then stopped the shaking. The nurse stopped in mid stride and took a step back, fear racing across her face. Boulder waved his hand at her and softened his face. I'm glad I took some drama classes in school...this would be so much harder without it... "I'm...I'm sorry. I don't mean to scare you. It's just....I...I have a problem...with....with..." He flustered and did his best to look embarrassed. The nurse relaxed a little. "With needles?" she answered for him. He shook his head and looked away from her. "With...hair...." He admitted. "Hair on the head..." he clarified. "It just looks unnatural to me....dirty...invasive..." "Well...what about your facial hair? Isn't that unnatural, dirty and invasive too?" He shook his head. "Only when it's long, like head hair. When it's short, it looks more natural. Less invasive....cleaner...I dunno..."

The nurse balked at him, not sure what to make of such a strange phobia. "Well...people have all kinds of fears...maybe I can help you get over this one?" She took another step towards his bed. Carefully, he rattled the walls again, and stopped when she took a step back. The officer's opened the door and glanced in to see what was going on. Without a word, the nurse nodded that yes, everything was ok, no need to come in, and the officer, after lingering for a few seconds, nodded and closed the door again.


"I'm sorry...I know it's irrational...but I can't shake it. Neither my grandmother or I can afford to send me to a therapist to try and get it worked out. And we can't afford any kind of medication either. Since it's not really anything that obstructs my normal daily life, I've just dealt with it and avoided touching people unless they are bald like me." He sent a pleading look up to the nurse.

The nurse, either in fear of his power, or sympathy for his "phobia", nodded in understanding. "Tell you what. I know a male nurse, who shaves his head and has a neat trimmed goatee like yours. I could get him if that would make you feel better?"

Boulder slumped his shoulders in apparent relief and sighed. "That would be much appreciated. I'm sorry to have to put you through the trouble..."

Satisfied that he wouldn't have another outburst, and also glad to have an excuse to be away from him, she nodded. "I'll go get him then. He'll be here in just a few minutes." Boulder sent her an apologetic smile as she left the room.

I can't belive that worked so well... Well, now if I can manage to make it work for a little bit longer...

Another seven minutes passed when the male nurse came to the door. He stepped inside and cautiously approached. "The other nurse told me about your phobia..." concern on his face was evident. "You sure you'll be ok with me re-stitching you?" He took a few tentative steps forward.

Boulder nodded, and when the nurse made it to the bed without the room trembling, he regained his confidence. "Ok, I'm going to need you to lift your gown so I can take a look at the damage Mister Johnson."

Boulder smiled and lifted his gown. The nurse frowned. "You shouldn't be in your cloths yet...please take off your jeans...again."

"Oh yea...." He tugged down his jeans to let the man see his thigh. "Yep...you managed to bust a stitch. Looks like it tore some of the flesh too due to the strain. You need to relax for a day, keep pressure off it so you won't do any extra damage to it again. I'll patch it up for you real fast."

Too late Boulder remembered that he had taken out his IV drip. He rolled his eyes back into his head and focused on what he had to do in order to ignore the pain.

After a few seconds, the new stitch was in place, alcohol was applied to sterilize, and the nurse stood up.

"Since I'm the only one around here that seems to meet your...unique needs, I'll be tending to you until you are good enough to be discharged. I'll be checking up on you periodically to see how you are doing."

Boulder nodded. "I'm sorry for being so difficult....thanks for accommodating me."

The nurse nodded and headed out of the room. "I better be getting extra pay for this..." he muttered as he closed the door.

Boulder let out a deep sigh. So far, so good.

[Boulder]

The rest of the day drug on. The bald nurse, true to his word would periodically check in and look at Boulder's wound. He's take a few notes, tell Boulder to take it easy, that it looked like the wound was scabbing, and would heal nicely.

After the fifth visit of the day, Boulder used his power and pulled a small chunk of rock, about the size of his thumbnail, out of the wall behind his bed, so that it wouldn't be seen. He idly rolled the cement around in his hands, and formed it into a smooth, cement marble.

On the eighth visit of the day, the sun was glaring red through the window as it set. The nurse nodded in satisfaction. "At the rate your wound is healing, you should be able to walk out of here tomorrow morning. I'll be here all night as well. I'll check in once more before I leave you to get some sleep. In the morning, I'll check you out again, and you should be right as rain as long as you don't strain yourself too much."

Boulder smiled. "Thanks so much. I'm looking forward to getting out of this hospital. I never much cared for hospitals..."

The nurse laughed. "Trust me, nobody does. Not even the staff. See you in a few hours." He stifled a yawn as he stepped out.

Boulder peered outside and caught a glimpse of the officers outside. They were sitting around, drinking coffee.

Once the door was closed, Boulder got out of his bed and took a few careful steps to the window. He was surprised at how well he was healing. His leg was a little stiff, and it still hurt a little, but it held his weight.

He took a few practice laps around his little room, ignoring the protest from his leg, and walked until he was confident he could walk about fifty paces without limping.

He clambered back into his bed, the pain in his leg subsiding as if glad to be rid of the weight of Boulder's body. He carefully put his jeans back on under his gown.

Boulder, bored and impatient for the time to pass, place his hand on the wall and closed his eyes. He was bombarded with images in his head as the vibrations from people and machines moving reached him. He focused for a long while, sifting out the different footsteps of doctors and nurses, the rolling of beds and equipment passing in the hallways, and the scraping of chairs over the floor.

Boulder finally saw what he was waiting for through the vibrations. Two sets of feet came into his field of view and were greeted by the vibrations of two chairs scraping the floor and two more sets of feet moving. It was another shift change for the police. "Perfect..."

The new officers, after not moving for a handful of seconds, swapped places with the officers they were replacing. Two sets of feet walked away, while the new ones disappeared in the overwhelming grinding of two chairs being drug closer to a table a few feet away from the door.

Boulder rolled his concrete marble between his fingers as he waited.

Another hour passed, but finally the nurse came back. He had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. "Ok, let's get this done so you and I both can get some sleep" *click* The door closed behind him. He came over to the bed and motioned for Boulder to lift the blankets and his gown.

Boulder reached down to grab the corner of the blanket, and quickly flicked his marble up and guided it unerringly into the nurses temple, knocking him out cold. He crumpled forward onto the bed, and Boulder grabbed him before the nurses unconscious body could thunk to the floor.

He quickly muscled the other man onto the bed and stripped him of his scrubs. Tossing his own gown off, Boulder carefully put on the scrubs before grabbing his shoes. He put them on and slipped the scrub booties on over them. He clumsily put the gown on the nurse, who was now down to a t-shirt, sweat pants, and tennis shoes, and placed him in the bed.

Eying the unconscious nurse Boulder grimaced. He rummaged through the man's back pocket and found his wallet. He pulled a twenty out, folded the wallet back up, and put it back in the man's pocket.

Mind racing, Boulder gave it a little more thought, and turned the nurses face away from the door, and pulled the blanket up over the prone man, tucking it around his head a little so as to hide his face a little better, just in case someone else stopped in before the man woke, or morning came, whichever came first.

He hastily put on the nurse's cloth face mask. Breathing hard, from excitement and exertion both, Boulder did a quick lap around the room to get used to walking without favoring his leg, grabbed the clipboard, and headed out.

"How is he?" One of the officer's called. Boulder didn't turn, but said, "He'll be fine in the morning to leave with you. As for now, he's sleeping soundly. It should be a quiet night for you."

"Good. Thanks for the little station here for us bud. You want some coffee or a doughnut?"

"No thanks. I've got one more patient to see to and I can get some sleep finally."

"Suit yourself. I suppose we'll see you in the morning then."

"I'm sure you will..."

Boulder grinned like an idiot under the mask as he walked, carefully, without limping, and staring at his clipboard like he was reading, to the elevator.

While I'm here.... I should stop by the pharmacy and see if they have something for my grandmother....