~ Chapter Forty Eight ~

Kevin unlatched the door of the hospital examination room, not really wanting to go inside, but knowing he had no other choice.  "Hey, Brian."

His cousin was perched on the end of the examining table, slumped over with his head propped in his hands. Brian mumbled something without opening his mouth at Kevin in response.

"How'ya feeling?"  Kevin inquired. 

Brian raised his head, squinting at Kevin.  "Like I got hit by a truck?"

"Probably about equivalent."  Kevin agreed.  Lawton was one of the bigger men in the major leagues, and he had crashed into Brian like a pile driver.  Kevin had watched the replay in the clubhouse four or five times after the game, and it made him wince every single time.  They had both gone down hard, and Lawton had sent Brian's head flying back into the dirt. 

"Rick says you can go home."  Kevin added, after a moment.  The team trainer had been worried about a concussion, but after he and the doctors ran some tests, they decided to just drug Brian up and send him home. 

"Are you driving me?"  Brian said slowly.

"Yep." 

"Good.  Because I don't know what they gave me, but it's working REALLY well."  Brian blinked a couple times.  "I feel like I'm drunk." 

The nurse, a heavyset woman in her early forties, pushed a wheelchair in through the door. "Okay, cutie, let's get you out of here."

"I don't need that!"  Brian said in shock.  Kevin bit his lip, trying not to laugh.  He had only seen Brian drunk once, and that had been years ago, but there was a similarity. 

"I'm not going to argue with you.  Get in the chair."  The nurse retorted, grabbing Brian by the arm.  "Go get your car."  She added over her shoulder at Kevin.  "We'll meet you at the main entrance."

Kevin slowly started for the elevator and the parking garage.  Brian looked completely wiped out, and it was starting to worry him.  Maybe it was just the drugs, but maybe it wasn't.  He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that Brian probably shouldn't be playing.  On the other hand, maybe he was just worrying too much, as usual.  Brian wasn't stupid enough to risk his health.  He was just tired.  The entire team was tired.  The extra three weeks added onto their season took their toll - but it was worth it.

"Who won the game?"  Brian mumbled once he was in the passenger seat of Kevin's 4-Runner. 

"We did.  3-1." Kevin confirmed. 

"Awesome."  Brian almost smiled. 

"I never thought I'd see myself one game away from winning a World Series."  Kevin admitted.

Brian didn't answer.  Kevin glanced over - it had taken Brian two city blocks to fall asleep, his head leaning up against the window.

~*~

Buddy Williams stared down at the statistics sheets on his desk, trying to figure out what he was going to do with his lineup tonight.  He'd just lost his leadoff hitter and it was putting a major kink in his plans.  He didn't care what kind of argument Brian put up - he was not going out on the field at the beginning of the game.  He might put him in later, depending on the situation, but Brian wasn't going to start.  It was just a precautionary measure - that had been a nasty whack Brian had taken last night, and logic told Buddy, Brian wouldn't be playing at 100% that evening.

"Hey, Buddy?"  Brian stuck his head in the office door, the blinds on the window rattling noisily."

"C'mon in."  Buddy grunted.  "I've got to talk to you anyway."  He glanced up, surprised that Brian was still in street clothes.  It was almost time for batting practice and Brian was usually the first player out there.

Brian shoved his hands in his pockets and stared fixedly at the little bobbing head player on the corner of Buddy's cluttered desk.  "I can't play."

That made things ten times easier for Buddy.  He didn't want to argue with Brian over it.  Brian was one of the few players on the team he genuinely liked.  "Well, I'm glad we're in agreement there, because I'm starting Ramos at second tonight."  He looked up at his second baseman again.  "If this goes to back to LA - and if it does, I'm going to kick someone's a-- - but if it does - I'll start you, okay?"

"No."  The firmness in Brian's voice surprised Buddy.  "I didn't mean just tonight."

Buddy scratched the back of his head, stalling.  This wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear right now.  All they needed was one more game.  Brian was the spark plug of his team - Buddy had told the media that many times already during the stretch run and the playoffs, and he'd probably say it again tonight.  If news suddenly came out that Brian couldn't play - Buddy knew it would throw his team off, and that was the last thing he wanted. 

"You sure about that?'  Buddy figured he might as well check.

"Yeah."  Brian's gaze traveled back down to the plastic baseball player on the desk.  "I'm sorry, Buddy."  He sounded like he was holding back tears. 

"You don't have a damn thing to be sorry about."  Buddy informed him gruffly.  "This is your choice here, but can you suit up anyway?  It'd just be a lot easier if everyone thought you were taking the game off ‘cause of last night."

Brian smiled faintly.  "I was gonna say the same thing."

~*~

AJ slowly wandered back up the tunnel from the clubhouse, humming off-key to the song blaring over the PA system while the Mariners finished up batting practice.  He paused, eyeing the end of the dugout.  Brian was sitting on the end of the bench, next to the green Gatorade cooler, his bat in hand, tapping it on the floor of the dugout.  AJ changed direction and headed that way.  He'd rather talk to Brian than stand in the outfield and shag fly balls any day.

"Wazzup, my friend?"  He greeted Brian.  "How come you're not out there with the rest of the ego-ridden hitters, trying to see who can park the most in the upper deck?"

As if on cue, Nick sent a ball flying into the upper level in left field, the rest of the team applauding and whistling in false appreciation and awe.

"I'm not playing tonight."  Brian didn't look up. 

"Buddy won't let you?"  AJ was assuming.  He hadn't seen the play last night, but he'd seen them take Brian off to the hospital for more tests, and that was never a good thing. 

"No, I told him I wasn't." 

That was the most depressing thing AJ had heard all day.  Maybe he would have been better off catching fly balls after all.  "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah." 

"Well, that sucks, Brian."  AJ was now sure he should have gone and caught fly balls.  Brian was going to start crying, AJ could tell just from looking at him, and he would prefer to be anywhere than where he was when it happened. 

"Do you think I'm giving up?"  Brian raised his head, finally meeting AJ's eyes. 

"Hell, no!"  AJ said in shock. 

"‘Cause that's what I feel like I'm doing."  Brian swiped one hand across his eyes.  "I just can't do this anymore."  The look in Brian's eyes was what worried AJ the most.  Before, Brian was the one that nothing got to, the one that held everything together, the one that kept pushing everyone else on, because if he was doing it, there was no reason why they couldn't - and now - Brian was right.  He had given up - AJ could see it.

"Well, we can win without you."  AJ pointed out.  "No offense."

"I'm not talking about the game."  Brian said quietly.

That was what AJ had been afraid of.

~*~

Howie's cleats clattered nosily on the concrete floor of the tunnel as he jogged back down to the clubhouse.  His other batting glove must still be in his locker.  Most of the team was out on the field, but Brian and Nick were hanging out over by Brian's locker, AJ was carefully inspecting the back of his head with two hand held mirrors, and starting pitcher Tim Casella was changing into his cleats. 

Howie pawed through the mess at the bottom of his locker, noting in the back of his mind that he should pick it up before Kevin saw it and fined him in Kangaroo Court.  Not that it mattered now, this was the last game they were playing in Safeco Field this year, no matter how the Series turned out. 

"But you KNEW, Brian!"  Nick's voice rose up over the music from the stereo over Kevin's locker.  "That wasn't fair!"

"Would it have mattered?"  Brian retorted sharply.

"Yes!"

"Then why would I have told you?" 

"Cool it, you two!"  Tim interrupted.  "I have to pitch in forty minutes and I don't need to hear your crap right now."

"F--- off."  Nick flung at Tim.  Howie bit his lip to keep himself from laughing.  Nick had all the tact of an Army tank.

Tim ignored him, heading for the clubhouse door, his glove in hand.

"Hold up a minute, dude!"  AJ bolted after him, his hair forgotten.  Howie didn't blame him.  He didn't especially want to be in the clubhouse right now either.

"F--- you too."  Nick added at Brian, stalking out the door after Tim and AJ. 

Howie found his batting glove - it had gotten caught beneath his shoes.  He shoved it into his back pocket, the fingers sticking out. 

"Does everyone hate me today?"  Brian wondered. 

"I don't!"  Howie piped up.  He wasn't sure if Brian was asking a hypothetical question or if he was actually serious, but he figured he might as well answer anyway.

Brian laughed.  "Thanks, Howie.  That's big of you."

"You okay?"  Howie asked.

"Yeah."  Brian sighed.  "He's just being Nick.  It'll blow over.  C'mon Howie - the biggest game of our careers is starting in half an hour." 

~*~

The Mariners lost game five 5-3, the Dodgers taking the lead in the sixth inning on a two out error by second baseman Carlos Ramos and the Series moved back to Los Angeles.