Danny Hebert was not a happy man.
He had been once. Those closest to him would have described him as driven and intense, but happy. But Danny hadn't been happy in the last five years, ever since his wife, Annette, had died. He was left a broken shell of a man. The premature balding and graying of what little hair he had left made him look closer to his mid-fifties rather than just over forty. His oversized glasses made his eyes look large and protruding. His tall, skinny frame, once corded with wiry muscle was flabby and out of shape. A slight paunch spoke of too much beer and too little exercise in the past few years, Annie would never have stood for it. But Annie was gone.
As spokesman for the Dockworker's Association in Brockton Bay Danny did the best he could to keep them afloat, despite the Boat Graveyard miring what little work there was in the Docks, but he no longer had the fire and passion he was once famous for; back when he was whole. He was resigned to the constant excuses from the Mayor and the dismantling of his carefully laid plans that could bring life and vibrancy back to the whole of Brockton Bay, despite the heavy gang presence in most of the city.
The only thing he had left in life was his daughter, Taylor, and even she seemed to be drifting away from him. He looked over at the picture on his desk, a wide smile on 12-year-old Taylor's face, and mirrored on Annie's. Taylor had inherited his bad eyesight, height, and temper but everything else was pure Annie. The same easy smile and endless optimism (more of a curse than a blessing in his opinion); the same love of books and old cheesy movies. Taylor had always been closer to Annie, but lately it seemed that with every passing day she was more reticent and less willing to talk to him. He had seen similar things happen with increasing frequency among the Dockworkers when they thought that he wasn't doing enough to get them work. Right before they gave up on him and quit to join one of the gangs. He hoped it was just teenage rebellion and disillusionment that all kids her age faced, but he couldn't help feeling like there was more to it. The ringing of Danny's office phone disturbed his musing. With a sigh, he picked up the phone.
"Danny Hebert, Dockworker's Association." He said, resigned to another report of gang activity disrupting work.
"Mr. Hebert, this is Dr. Braylon at Brockton Bay General Hospital, your daughter, Taylor, was just admitted and is in the ICU…" the voice went on, but Danny couldn't hear anything over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.… Not Taylor. Anything but that.
"Mr. Hebert? Are you still there?" The voice sounded hesitant, worried. Danny could barely hear them over the thundering of his heart.
"Yes, I'll be there shortly. Thank you." He replied numbly and hung up the phone. His hands and legs shook as he recalled the last time he had received that phone call. Three years ago. He grabbed his jacket and stumbled out the door. His boss, Norman Bernard, caught sight of him and grew worried.
"Danny? Everything alright?" He asked, while stepping closer to steady the man.
"No... Taylor… Hospital…" Danny gasped unevenly.
Norman paled. He had been there when Annie died, and Danny still hadn't recovered from that. If something happened to Taylor as well… Danny wouldn't survive it.
"Lacey! Lacey!" He called back while keeping a hand on Danny's elbow.
"Yeah Mr. Bernard?" A voice called as a tall, muscled woman with an easy smile rounded the corner. She and her husband, Kurt, were longtime friends of Danny and his family.
"Take Danny to the hospital please, something happened to Taylor." He turned back to Danny "Take as much time as you need Danny, keep us updated." He said seriously. Lacey expression grew somber and she nodded briskly as she went to retrieve her coat. They were outside and into Lacey's old, rusted truck within a minute, not that Danny could remember moving.
"Danny, which hospital are we going to?" She asked gently as she cranked the ignition on the truck.
"Brockton General." He breathed. "ICU."
Danny and Lacey drove in silence, it was the middle of the day, so the traffic was light and they made good time. The walk into the hospital hardly registered with Danny as Lacey steered him toward the reception desk.
Lacey glanced at Danny nervously as she asked the receptionist for directions, he seemed more lucid than he was a few minutes ago, it looked like it was finally sinking in. The tired and harried nurse eyed them sympathetically. "Go down that hall, take a left and you'll see the doors to the ICU, you can sign in there." She said, pointing down the hallway to her right.
As Danny walked down the hauntingly familiar hallway he couldn't help but remember the last time he was here, it still felt like yesterday. And Annie hadn't made it out. He would never forgive himself if Taylor didn't make it out either. In no time, he was facing the door to her room, hand on the doorknob. He took a shaky breath and turned the handle. He stepped into the room and the first thing he saw was the tubes, wires, and beeping, whirring machines. In the middle of all of it, looking so small and pale, was his daughter. She looked just like his wife did; on her deathbed.
Danny's heart thundered in his ears, his knees gave out, distantly he could hear voices, feel a firm grip on his arm. Everything went black.