Questions for the Doctor

McCready did not shoot Tommy Jack (what kind of name is that anyway?). He had made his point. He had let the inner demon play a little. Monica asked him nicely to put the gun away and he did. She didn't even have to say please. McCready and Jack's eyes never left each other, though. Meanwhile I was throwing up on the somewhat recently waxed hospital floor. And still laughing in between my stomach's upward thrusts.

Things grew a little hazy. Commotion, talking, urgent whispers. Surprisingly few curses and threats from McCready. I think Orestes picked me up and carried me into the room that Jack had emerged from. When things finally cleared it was only Jack and I. They had propped me in a chair and Jack had pulled a stool in front of me.

"Are you a doctor?" I asked.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." he replied with a smile.
"Good, 'cause something is definitely wrong with me. Dream or no dream, I am messed up."
"Do you think this is a dream?" He looked at me closely.
"Of course it's a dream! How else would I be here?" But I had my doubts.
"How do you know it's a dream?"
"Because in my real life I don't get carted around through hospitals by characters from my dreams who shoot up the place. And there certainly aren't any floating crystal orbs or whatever that was. But that would be pretty cool if they had those in real life. And Monica looks different, I can't quite put my finger on it, but she's different. I haven't seen her in years, though, so who knows. It just has to be a dream." Jack said nothing, only looked at me patiently. My mind had gained some clarity since the vomiting. It paused before allowing my mouth to go on speaking.
"But you know...this is by far the most vivid dream I've ever had. And I tend to have abnormally vivid and detailed dreams anyway. Am I in a coma? Is this some sort of hyper-vivid coma dream?"
"No, I don't think you're in a coma, Devan. I believe you have been bitten. Perhaps by the Red Mosquito. You will live, but you will be quite miserable for a while yet. And the antidote, you might say, is not exactly pleasant either." I was confused.
"Wait. The Red Mosquito? What is that? And why did you call me Devan, my name is Gabriel? This is getting crazy." Jack smiled and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, I know you as Devan. I guess you don't recall any of that. No matter. The Red Mosquito is not something you should worry about right now. Just think of it as a sickness, a virus. It will be alright." Before I could get out another round of baffled questions, the door opened and Monica ducked inside. Yelling, shooting, and other sounds of trouble could be heard down the hall.
"I think the cops are here!" she said, "McCready and Orestes went off to deal with them or kill them all or who knows! This is getting out of hand!" Jack spoke calmly, soothingly.
"Things are certainly not as well as we would like them to be. But everything will be fine. As long as it is only police and others of this world, we have nothing to be worried about." Monica looked at me. My head wobbled.
"How is he?" she asked.
"He'll be okay. He's going to have a bumpy ride for a while, but he'll get through it. You made it to me in time, you did well."
"But what is it? Orestes said something about someone starting his waking process before he was ready."
"That could be it, or it could be the Red Mosquito. Which could actually be both." Again with the Red Mosquito. I couldn't stand it.
"What the HELL is a Red Mosquito? Are you talking about malaria? Do I have malaria?" Neither one answered me. Instead Jack stepped over to me and removed a roll of what looked like Sweetarts from his pocket.
"Take one." he said.
"Are those Sweetarts?"
"They are if you want them to be." And sure enough, they were Sweetarts. There was a red one on top and I took it. As I popped it in my mouth, Jack ushered Monica out of the room and left me alone for a minute. Immediately my head cleared a bit, but then I began to feel a new kind of fogginess creep in. A little like a beer buzz. The nausea was gone and the coughing ceased. I began to doubt that those had really been Sweetarts.