A FRACTURE IN THE CONSCIOUSNESS ✓

JOSH

Thirteen hours later, Tyler woke up.

Tyler went through four different procedures just to stabilize him and two more to fix whatever injuries were left. He died three times on the table, and was revived each time.

They'd found heavy amounts of benzodiazepine in his blood, as though Brendon had been using it to help Tyler cope with the constant torture, and had to use a different anesthetic because of his body's tolerance to the drug. The surgeon was surprised he wasn't dead with all the blood loss, internal trauma, and external damage he'd endured.

For thirteen hours, nobody spoke. Dallon's sister brought them coffee and food a couple hours into their unanimous vigil, knowing they would starve waiting for him. She had to leave early to keep an eye Dallon's kids, though.

That was the difference between him, Judah and the rest of their team. The others didn't have families outside of work like they did. This job wasn't suited for it. And for Josh, Tyler was his outside family.

For thirteen hours, the world hung by a thread.

"You... have a beard now."

Tyler's fragile voice cracked like a whip in the dense silent air. Josh jerked up, half asleep. He could see Tyler's pale face and even paler scars illuminated by the dim light of the TV screen. His face was bruised and unshaven, most of his body covered in gauze or bandages. Tyler squinted his eyes.

"Yeah, so do you, baby," Josh said, smiling softly. He didn't want to show how relieved he was to hear Tyler's voice after months, even if he still sounded half alive. "How are you feeling?"

"Weird," Tyler coughed into his left hand. Specks of blood coated his lips.

"Weird how?"

"I don't know. Just weird."

Josh rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and dragged his chair beside Tyler, taking his thin, scarred hand into his. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you."

"It's not your fault, Josh," Tyler replied. He yawned and grimaced, the tape holding the gauze pad in place pulling as his mouth stretched. "I know you tried your best to find me. I didn't even know where I was until you showed up."

"Is he awake?" Jenna asked from somewhere behind him.

"Yeah."

She appeared beside Josh, fingers grazing Tyler's cheek. He leaned into her touch, his eyes back to a soft, dark brown. The doctor must've drained the blood from his eyes, or it went away by itself. Either way, Tyler now looked less demonic and more confused.

"You scared the hell out of us, Joseph," she said, pulling back and sniffing.

Tyler furrowed his brows. "Is it true? Did I really kil him?"

"You don't remember?" Josh asked.

"Of course I remember. That's the bad part. I remember everything, but I-" Tyler licked his lips. "I wasn't thinking clearly. I started to... I don't want to believe that I did what I did."

"Ty..."

Josh couldn't finish his sentence, so Jenna said, "We found you with his body, holding a pair of blood scissors. It was declared as self defense."

He swallowed roughly, eyes focusing on something behind them before his face went slack. His skin went a shade paler and the heart monitor started to pick up speed. "Oh."

Jenna looked over her shoulder while Josh leaned in closely, hearing Tyler sputter nonsense under his breath. He couldn't make out the words, but they started to slur together as Tyler got louder. Josh cupped his face to hear him better.

"Behind you, the blod- bloo- blu- blood-"

"I'm going to get a nurse," Jenna said, standing.

As soon as she reached the door, Tyler suddenly convulsed, his body shaking the entire bed frame, waking the others up. He jerked violently to the side, eyes in the back of his head once again, and foamy saliva began to escape his lips.

"We need a doctor!" Josh shouted, his fear spiking as  all the blood seemed to drain from Tyler's face.

A nurse pushed past him, pressing a finger to Tyler's throat. "He must be going through withdrawal," he heard the nurse call out.

"Withdrawal?" Two more nurses came in, ushering the team out of the room. "What's happening?" Josh shouted, shoving to get into the room.

"He's having a seizure," one nurse told him. "It's not fatal, but with the damage in his body, it could be extremely dangerous for him."

"Is he going to be okay?" A half-asleep Dallon asked, his eyes not even fully opened yet.

The nurse nodded and smiled, though her face was poignant. She shut the door behind them.

Josh, from either exhaustion or shock, fell to the floor, his head going fuzzy. He felt Jenna try to catch him by his arm. His shoulder where Brendon shot him began to ache. Even though his wounds had healed well and he was regaining full movement with physical therapy, the psychosomatic part of his injuries was prevalent as ever, even more so with Tyler back and in such a fragile state.

"If he doesn't survive..." Josh choked in the words, biting his fist to stop himself from crying. "I can't be here. I can't see him like this."

"He'll be okay," Jenna said soothingly, sinking down beside him. "The therapy and physical recovery will be tough, for both you, but you can do it. You've-"

She stopped. You've been through worse. That's what they always said to give them hope that it couldn't get any more despairing than what they'd already seen before, but this had to be the worst of the worse.

Josh had been beaten, kidnapped, shot, stabbed, drugged, poisoned, ran over, almost killed, almost blown up, and falsely accused of murder. But nothing compared to this. Being beaten within an inch of his life. Helplessly searching for a way to legally bring in Spencer so they didn't lose access to deb case. Watching over the course of three months as his other half was starved and experimented on for what- fun? Science?

You've been through worse. Now Josh had. Nothing could ever compare to the physical and psychological torture of the last three months.

"When he gets out of the hospital, you're both getting paid leave," Brad said sternly, the dark tone he only used at work appearing almost unintentionally. "I don't care if I need to talk to the Secretary of State herself, you will not be back into work until absolutely necessary."

"Thank you," Josh said. "So much."

He stood with some help from Brad, who sent him a reassuring nod. It had been years since he saw him smile, but that was a side effect of the job. At one point, you forget how to smile again.

After eight years of being an FBI agent, Josh finally knew why.