Panic. Dread. Terror. Three words to describe what being a parent was like every day. Kurt McVeigh was told that when he was a father, one day, he would have these feelings. It was the same, he was told, when he would get married. Panic his wife would get hurt, dread that something terrible would happen to her, terror when the call came that she had been hurt. Kurt McVeigh didn't expect all three to rush through him the morning of the shooting.
He was at the court house to surprise Diane. He was going to take her to a late lunch, maybe an early dinner. He had passed security, was turning the corner when he heard the first set of shots. Ducking down, against the wall, his heart began to race. When the people started to run from their respective rooms, he went towards the court room Diane was in. He wanted to get her out of there.
Getting swept up in the sea of people, forced out by security, he was out on the street. A cold morning, he would forever remember. He listened as the 9-1-1 calls were announced on the street, out of the mouths of the officer's radios. Checking his phone, he wasn't surprised to see his screen blank. No calls, no messages, nothing from Diane.
Ambulances roared up. Firetrucks right behind. Chicago P.D. sectioned off the space in front of the court house and he thought for a moment, he could walk to Diane's office and wait for her there. He knew she would have to return eventually. He hoped it was sooner, rather than later. He also knew that his truck was staying in the parking lot for a while.
Just as he was getting ready to walk, his phone rang. Diane.
"Diane?" He yelled over the sirens of the police car. "Where are you?"
"Kurt?" He heard her try. "Kurt are you there?"
"Yeah," he said, trying to shield the sirens. "Diane, where are you?"
"There was a shooting at the court house."
"I know," he said. "I'm here. I'm outside."
"What?" He heard her yell. "You're at the courthouse?"
Muffled sounds broke up the line of questioning. He heard another voice, a female voice in the background. He caught bits and pieces of the conversation but he was making his way towards the doors. Towards the tape.
"Diane, I'm right outside," Kurt said. "Where are you?"
"I'm coming," she said.
He watched as the doors flung open and paramedics were dealing with someone on a gurney. Behind them was Diane and Kalinda. His attention zoned in on his wife who's hands were full of blood. Kalinda's too.
Panic.
Kurt took Diane in his arms and held her to him. Sighing a breath of relief into her neck, pressing his lips to her pulse point. He had to make sure she was alive. That what was happening was real. The beating against his lips calmed him minutely. His own heart was still racing.
"What happened?" Kurt asked. "Are you okay?"
He held up her hands by the wrist. They were drenched in blood.
"It's not mine," she said quickly, her voice on the verge of cracking. "It's Will's."
"What?"
"Will," Diane said. "He's been shot."
Kurt looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the man being loaded into the ambulance. The EMT still straddling him, pressing their hands into his chest.
"We have to get to the hospital." Kalinda said, touching Diane at the elbow. "Hello."
"Hi," Kurt said quickly, acknowledging Kalinda. "I'll drive."
"Kurt, you can't." Diane said. "You're truck is here."
"Hold on," Kalinda said, leaving them.
Together, Kurt and Diane watched as Kalinda walked over to the gaggle of police officers who all had their brows furrowed and their mouths pursed. It was not a good day for them. It wasn't going to get easier either.
"Were you in court together?"
Dread.
Diane shook her head in the negative. She took a deep breath and let the tears pool. He was her husband. She could let him see how scared she was. How scared she still was.
"It was his client," Diane said with a shuddered breath. "The kid. I told you about him. The son of a client."
"Yeah," Kurt said, nodding. "I remember."
"I was in the room next door," Diane went on. "I heard the shots and I froze. Everyone else dove down and I just –"
"You can take your truck," Kalinda said, interrupting Diane. "They'll let you drive us and follow the ambulance."
Kurt looked at Diane and nodded. "Let's go then."
Kurt drove the streets with one hand. The other was in Diane's lap, their fingers entwined. Kalinda was quiet in the passenger seat, against the window. Her hands were bloody. She kept looking down at them.
Kurt gently shook his hand from Diane's grip and reached behind them. He grabbed a clean shirt that he had and handed it to Kalinda.
"Wash some of that off," Kurt said, gently. "It'll make you feel better."
Kalinda did as she was told and wiped off as much blood as she could.
"Di," Kurt said, quietly, using her nickname. "Can you reach the case of water behind the seat?"
Diane nodded and reached back, grabbing a water bottle. She held it, question in her eyes and he took it. Opening it against the steering wheel.
"Hold out your hands," Kurt instructed.
Diane did and he pushed them away from the center console, away from her dress. He shook some water onto her hands and handed her the bottle to do the same for Kalinda.
By the time they pulled into the hospital parking structure, their hands were clean and the floor of his truck was wet. Kalinda got out of the truck as soon as they pulled in and made a beeline for the ambulance bay.
Diane turned to Kurt and pressed a kiss to his lips in thanks.
"I don't know how long I'll be," Diane said quietly.
"It's fine," Kurt said. "Take as long as you need."
Diane kissed him again before slipping out of the truck and making her way to Kalinda.
Kurt waited for god knows how long, trying to catch his breath.
Terror.
It could have been her. That was his thought process as he pulled out of the structure and onto the waiting street. She could be the one being loaded into emergency surgery for a gun shot wound to the throat. He could be the one chasing after Kalinda into the Emergency room.
It could have been her.
That thought was still running through his head when his phone rang. He had gotten to her apartment and was putting together something to eat when his phone rang. He answered it.
"Diane?"
Silence met him on the other end.
"Hey," he heard her say. "Can you come back and pick me up?"
"Yeah," he said and before anything else was able to be asked, the line went dead.
He drove the twenty minutes to the hospital. He parked his truck nearby the same space he had it in earlier. He got out, locked everything up, and went in search of his wife.
On a cold day, he expected her to remain inside. He found her outside, sitting on a bench. What stopped him in his tracks were the red rimmed eyes and the tear stained cheeks. Kurt caught her as she collapsed in his arms and sobbed into his neck.
"He's gone, Kurt," Diane cried. "Will's gone."
Kurt held onto her and let her cry. He stood there for who knows how long. The temperature dropped.
"Come on," Kurt said, finally, getting her to the truck.
They sat in silence and she wiped away the tears and tried to catch her breath. He let her. He let the silence take over and when she was ready, she would tell him.
"I need to go home," Diane said quietly. "My purse is at the court house. I need to get some things."
"I brought you a bag," Kurt said. "I figured you'd want to change."
He pulled the bag from the back seat and settled it on her lap. She opened it and went through it, a small smile at his generosity blooming onto her face. The make up from her bathroom counter was in a small bag. Some things from her lingerie drawer shoved in at the bottom. A new dress was folded neatly on top of a pair of shoes he figured would match. She loved this man who sat stoically next to her.
"You ready?"
Diane nodded. "I need to go to the office."
"Okay," he said, starting up the truck and pulling out of the parking lot.
Diane noticed quickly and gratefully that Kurt was going the long way to the office. By passing any and all emergency responders who would still be at the court house. When the vehicle came to a stop, she pulled down the old visor and touched up her make up. She looked like she had been crying. She looked like she was mourning the death of her best friend.
Good.
"I'll be here a while," Diane offered.
"That's fine," Kurt said. "Give me a call and I'll come back and pick you up."
"Where are you going to go?"
"Not sure," Kurt said honestly. "Was planning on wining and dining you tonight."
Diane leaned her head back and let it fall against the head rest. She turned her head towards Kurt and just looked at him. This man was so good to her. She wasn't sure she deserved it.
"I may want a lot of wine," Diane said.
"I can go buy some," Kurt said. "Not a problem."
Diane nodded. Before she could slip out of the truck, Kurt caught her hand.
"You've got this," he said, knowing the monumental task she was about to endure.
"I love you," she said just as easily.
He smiled at her and let her hand go.
One day, he thought to himself as he watched her step into the building that was partly hers, he would tell her about the panic and dread that washed over him. The loop of terror that played in his mind. It wasn't going to be today. Or tomorrow. Or next week.
Maybe never he thought.
And never was okay for now.