Snippet #769685

Harry was off shift, so he was driving his regular car, a Toyota Carina. He couldn't sleep. That night with the Lieutenant was so unsettling. He had hoped the car ride would calm him down. His mind was cluttered with all kinds of thoughts. He sighed. The sun was rising. He needed to get to sleep soon so that he could be at his best tomorrow night. He continued to drive in the mellifluous twilight when he spotted someone on the ground. Another homeless person? No, this one was covered in blood.

Harry had slammed on the breaks, coming to a screeching halt. He got out of the car to see who it was. Barely conscious, hell barely moving at all, was Munroe Beckett. "No! Nooo, no no no no, don't do this to me! Not again!" Harry was careful as he carried Munroe by his shoulders as he led him to the back of his car. Harry made a u turn, and bolted down the street towards the nearest hospital, which from where they were, was the Lenox Hill Hospital. "Don't worry, don't worry." Harry kept repeating to Munroe, but the words were mostly for himself. He was in panic overload at this point, hoping that the car would deliver them to the hospital before Munroe had lost too much blood.

The Toyota had reached the hospital in a matter of a few minutes. Harry got out of the car and ran into the hospital, screaming for someone to help the dying man in the back of his car. After nurses came down to quiet him, Harry explained what happened, while a stretcher was rushed over to the man covering the backseats with blood, as Munroe's body, unconscious from losing so much blood, was strapped onto the stretcher and rushed back inside to the ER.

Harry had sat there all morning, his head in his hands. This time there was no thought. No pensiveness, no reflecting, nothing. He was tired. Too tired. Only one thought had penetrated the haze within his conscious mind. Just how long must this madness continue...