Mindi was waiting for the elevator when Brian and Kevin arrived on her floor. She stepped in with them, hitting the button for the lobby.
"A.J. thinks loud."
"Ah," Kevin responded, as if this was the most natural explanation in the universe.
"So you think it's time?" Brian asked, mainly for his own benefit. "Should I stay here?"
"I want you in the hospital. You can stay in the ICU until someone comes down."
"Okay."
They managed to catch A.J. as he was getting into a cab. He held the door open while the others piled in, then climbed in afterward and gave the address.
"Mins, exactly what are we doing now?" he wanted to know.
"A few simple tests to find out how severe Howie's allergies are."
"Tests?" Kevin's eyebrows went north.
"Don't look like that Kev, I'm not going to dissect him. Mostly questions," she reassured him.
"The Spanish Inquisition?" A.J. suggested. The other occupants of the car just looked at him. "What? Nick would have gotten it."
Suzanne met them just inside the main doors of the hospital and escorted Brian away to the ICU.
"Is he really that fragile?" Kevin wondered.
"Not fragile, confused." Mindi watched them go. "He's getting too much information that's not his own. If things go smoothly he'll be fine after a nap, once this is over."
"Train we've come too far for second-guessing *now..."
Kevin conceded the point. They moved on to Howie's room. He seemed much more at ease than Kevin had seen him last; propped up comfortably against fluffly white pillows, his hair tied back... an air of well-being surrounded him. His family had apparently brought him the Orlando Sentinel to read. Section were strewn across the sheets.
"Hey, Sweet D! Whazzup!" A.J. noticed the change in Howie's mood immediately.
"The chart position of Polly's single." Howie announced with a grin. "Oh and Kev, the doctor wants to talk to you tomorrow."
"Hopefully the doctor will want to talk to Nick tomorrow," Mindi smiled.
"We're gonna try tonight?" he sighed, pushing the newspaper to the floor. "Okay. What do you want me to do?"
"Not much. I already know psychic energy won't kill you, and you've lived around a powerful psychic for years, so you have no problem touching one of us. Now I have to find out just how much of a problem you have with direct mind-to-mind."
"And how're we gonna do that?" A.J. asked, still upbeat.
"Twenty questions."
"You're kidding."
"Ok, so there's a little more to it, but that's all you'll see. I'm going to monitor Howie while I ask him things, see how he reacts."
"Just questions?" Howie relaxed a little.
"For now." At this less-than-reassuring reply, Howie reached for A.J.'s hand. A.J. squeezed back.
"It's for Nick."
"Right." Howie swallowed and nodded. "Okay."
"First, have you ever been sick for pretty much no reason? Violently ill with no real explanation?"
He thought hard, but shook his head. "I don't think so. Bone?"
It was Kevin who answered. "This might be nothing, but his alcohol tolerance can get really low sometimes. Once or twice when we've been out together one beer was all it took to get him really tipsy."
Mindi seemed to be staring at a point somewhere above and behind Howie's head. "Hmmm. Don't suppose you remember dates?"
"Now that I think of it, my birthday. Not the last one, the year before." A.J. put in. "January 9, 2000. I thought maybe it was just because of the whole Johnny Suede party-hard atmosphere, but I don't actually remember him having that much."
"He did *what* that day? Well no wonder."
Kevin shot A.J. a puzzled glance.
"She calls it 'verbalising'. I think she's talking to someone," he tapped his temple.
"Nick did some pretty major work that night. Any memorable hangover that morning, Howie?"
He shrugged. "I think I'd remember a really miserable one."
"Short-term effects even with that much activity," she mused. "What about here at the hospital. Concussion and cracked ribs notwithstanding."
"I was getting a headache a little earlier. When that girl... Lina? When she was here."
"Yeah. I suspect that was a cumulative effect. Too much psychic activity over a short period of time."
"Mindi you're starting to sound like a doctor."
"Hmm? Oh psychic ailments are my specialty. I didn't say?"
"Nope."
"Well they are. Let's see..." she considered her options carefully. "Interesting. Any headache now, Howie?"
"No. Just.." he chuckled. "Someone walked over my grave."
"Ok. And now?"
He frowned. "Mindi what are you doing?"
"Trying to make conta... woah that was fast!"
"What?"
"The second you consciously clued in to what I was doing, snap! Completely shut out."
"I did???"
"Oh yeah. I could get through it if I really needed to, but we'd each end up with a massive headache." Mindi sounded impressed.
"Wow."
"That's bad, right?" Kevin clarified.
"It could be good. If he can convince himself he *needs* to contact someone, he might be able to do it."
"So what now?"
"We convince him."