A/N: Thanks for your lovely reviews, guys! And for those asking when I'd update and if I'm waiting for a certain amount of reviews lol No, I'll be updating this story every 3 days, that way I'll have enough time to write the other half. Let me know what you think of this chapter!
Chapter 1:
There were three things C.C. Babcock had learned from her overnight stay at the hospital. No matter the hour, there was never a moment of quiet to be had. Even with the doors closed behind her she could feel the commotion out in the corridors.
Second, the value of a single room could not be overstated. She had learned more about the marriage of Hector and Rosemary Conner, the couple Niles was sharing a room with, than she had ever known about Maxwell's and Sara's in the past, including some sexual details she really could've done without.
And lastly, it had been delightfully easy to develop an addiction to the hospital Jell-O. As a matter of fact it was the only thing she had consumed since lunch the previous day.
She ducked out once around 7 o'clock to get herself a cup of coffee from the vending machine down the corridor. But the drink tasted more watery than strong and so she abandoned it after a few sips. When she entered the room again she was relieved to hear nothing but silence from behind the privacy curtain, the part of the room the other couple occupied. Nonetheless she made sure to tiptoe to her chair, not fancying a chat so early in the morning.
Her coat lay draped across the chair and flattened against it, serving as a kind of cushion but it still – as the painful ache in her lower back reminded her – did not make a good sleeping place. Nonetheless, she sank back into it and shifted around a little until she was as comfortable as possible. Niles hadn't shown any signs of waking up yet and the doctor hadn't returned with the results from the blood test and chest x-ray either. Truth be told, she didn't even know if they would keep her informed.
Momentarily overwhelmed by helplessness she leaned forward and brushed her hand against Niles', but his cool skin caused her to recoil almost immediately. Throughout the night it had been easy enough to lie to herself. To say that he was simply asleep and that nothing was out of the ordinary. But the skin to skin contact was enough to prove otherwise. She had no idea how bad Niles' heart attack had been or how long it would take him to recover. It seemed almost laughable that the man who slept a stone's throw away would be released today after his second bypass surgery while the man in front of her showed no signs of ever waking up.
Her thoughts had just begun wandering off to the last time she had seen Sara, lying just as pale but not quite so still in front of her when a nurse entered the room and distracted her. She felt grateful and uncomfortable at the same time.
"Quite some dreams he must be having," the young woman remarked and C.C. managed a quick eye contact, then her glance drifted lower and she began counting the buttons on the nurse's uniform.
"I have somewhere else to be," an annoyed frown creased her forehead at the slight tremble of her voice and she added more firmly "I have an appointment."
"Of course," the nurse smiled in return and resumed her check-up routine "would you like us to notify you when he wakes up?"
"Isn't that your job?" C.C. asked, proud to have re-discovered the haughty tone.
"You're not his emergency contact." The nurse reminded her, the smile on her face unwavering "So technically I don't have to notify you at all."
"Just do it," C.C. snapped and gathering her things left the room.
She didn't have an appointment, as a matter of fact she had nowhere to go. But still her feet steered her towards the line of taxis in front of the hospital and before she knew it she was on the way to her penthouse. The instinct to bolt had been too much in the end. She couldn't have remained motionless and helpless by Niles' side for another second. C.C. told herself that she'd stop by her penthouse for a quick change of clothes and then she'd be heading straight to Dr Bort's office as if it had been the plan all along.
Chester was the first one to greet her; his yapping blocking out the deafening silence that otherwise would've easily penetrated her skin and joined in the chorus of doubts in her head, persuading her to simply stay at home instead of seeking the advice she so clearly needed. She petted him quickly and then filled bowls with water and food before walking into her bedroom and absent-mindedly picking out a new ensemble to wear.
Despite taking the time for a shower and a quick cup of coffee C.C.'s appearance was less than neat when she burst into the psychiatrist's office that day. Her blonde hair was tousled and the pants and turtleneck sweater combination she had chosen didn't match in colour or style. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her hands were shaking at her sides. Aware that the door had fallen noisily closed behind her, C.C. still took a moment to close her eyes and breathe before rounding the desk and approaching Bort's secretary. "Is she still in session?"
"Miss Babcock," the bespectacled woman sounded surprised "I didn't know you had an appointment today."
C.C. wasn't exactly known to attend therapy for more sessions than really necessary. "Obviously I don't," she pointed out tersely and then pinched the bridge of her nose in another effort at relative calm "is she fully booked?"
"I'm afraid so," the secretary wrinkled her nose, causing her glasses to slide up and then down again.
C.C. found that it made her look stupid. "I'll wait," she commented and took a seat in the otherwise empty waiting room. There were several magazines scattered on the table in front of her and she picked one up but leafed through it without paying attention. She needed something to keep her hands busy.
Half an hour later Bort emerged from her office with a client whom she dismissed with a curt but friendly smile. A second later she was ushered close by her secretary who less than subtly informed her of C.C.'s presence. Bort looked surprised to see her there as well but then had the good grace to hide it. C.C. rose to her feet and smoothed down her pants and was able to shake the other woman's hand when she finally arrived in front of her.
"I was wondering if you could squeeze me in."
Angelica Bort had just been about to go on lunch but there was something about her patient's simple request that changed her mind. So instead she turned around to face her secretary again. "You can go, I'll see you in an hour."
She nodded and then placing a hand on C.C.'s back walked with her through the office and into the adjacent room. It was plain and sparsely decorated and yet C.C. took great comfort in its familiarity. Approaching her usual chair she sat down and stared at the rug. At least it seemed that in this place her world hadn't been tipped upside down.
Bort was studying her curiously and took a seat herself, instantly reaching for the tape recorder. Something had rattled her client so completely that she had lost the air of aloofness that usually surrounded her. Instead she seemed fascinated by a spot on the floor while her hands were nervously playing with her jewellery. Bort stopped her musings and switched on the tape recorder instead. The familiar click caught C.C.'s attention as well and they made eye contact.
"What's happened, Miss Babcock?"
"Niles had a heart attack." The words spilled out of her before she could help herself and she instinctively raised her hand, her fingers sprawling over her mouth as if trying to shovel the words back into it so that they and the event itself would become unmentioned again.
"I am sorry to hear that," Bort acknowledged, knowing all too well of the troubled relationship between her patient and the butler.
"One minute we're in the kitchen bickering…I mean, trying to bicker," she corrected herself "the next he's on the floor, groaning in pain."
"So you were with him?"
"Yes and if you have the nerve to ask me now how that made me feel I swear to God I will-"
"Please don't put words in my mouth, Miss Babcock," the psychiatrist sternly interrupted her "I can see by your current behaviour how much it upset you."C.C. pursed her lips but remained silent for the time being. "Now I'm sure there's a reason why you came to talk to me today."
The corners of her mouth drooped again as all fight left her body. Defeated, she folded her hands in her lap and half wished she would be lying on the bed at the back of the room instead. That way Bort wouldn't be facing her now and she wouldn't be under such close scrutiny.
"I just didn't know where else to go," she finally confessed "didn't know what else to do. Maxwell is in Europe and Niles is just lying in that damn hospital bed refusing to wake up. I swear he's just doing it to irk me," she added with a chuckle that sounded hollow.
"What did the doctors tell you?" Bort asked. She knew that her client was usually a level-headed woman and was hoping that appealing to her rational side and allowing her to recall the facts would help calm her down.
"Nothing concrete," C.C. replied "they said that they won't know what damage the heart attack might cause until they get further test results back and until he wakes up."
"I'm sure he's in capable hands."
The blonde crossed her legs and stared into thin air. "I'm not so sure." She said dully "That's what they said when Sara was admitted after her accident. That she's in capable hands, one of the best medical staff in New York…" As her voice trailed off C.C. closed her eyes and Bort allowed her just for a moment to remember the dreadful events of that evening.
"Are you concerned about Niles or is it worse because it reminds you of Sara?" she then asked, slowly bringing her back to the present.
"Can't it be both?" C.C. challenged and Bort spread her hands without answering. "Why is there never anything I can do?"
"You were with him when it happened. I'm sure he was glad not to be alone."
"Are you quoting textbook platitudes now?" C.C. asked, annoyed "It doesn't matter, he barely knew I was there. She barely knew it. What's the point of having me there when I can only hold their hands?"
"Are you angry at them?"
"Yes," she snapped and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"Why?" Bort probed softly and her tone nearly robbed her last nerve.
"Because they don't care. They get themselves in these situations and then leave the rest of us to clean up the mess." She hated how irrational that sounded and when she saw Bort open her mouth she lifted a hand. "I know the accident wasn't Sara's fault but she had a family, she should've fought longer." The hard line that appeared between her brows made her age considerably. "And Niles…yes, he got himself in this situation. The doctor said he was eating too much rich food and it's true. I've seen him stuffing himself lately. And what's with his insane work out regime and the new hair colour?"Her psychiatrist frowned a little, unable to follow her rant completely but finding it important to let her vent. "Something was wrong with him…he didn't tease me anymore the way he used to. Why did he never say anything?"
"Would you have sought him out if something was wrong with you?"
C.C. shot a glare at her that would've made a lesser man flinch. "No," she growled "but apparently I am strong enough to handle things."
That comment made Bort smile for a moment. "I hope that therapy has also been beneficial to you in the past."
"I am not here to make you feel good about yourself."
Bort inclined her head and accepted the snide remark silently.
"I think he was having some sort of ridiculous midlife crisis."
"Could be possible," the psychiatrist nodded and C.C. tilted her head.
"There's something you're not telling me."
"There is nothing I have to tell you, Miss Babcock. Or must I remind you who the patient and who the psychiatrist is in this relationship?"
C.C. shook the comment off her. "You know something about Niles. Did he come to see you?"
"I see him quite regularly when he comes to pick up the youngest Sheffield, as you well know." Bort supplied neutrally but for the blonde it was akin to an admission.
"What did he talk to you about?" she challenged.
"He asked me if you were happy," Bort sighed "and that's as much as I am going to say about the matter."
C.C. frowned, unsure of what to make of this information. She had expected something that would give her a bit more insight into his issues. Was he depressed about his lack of a love life? Was he frustrated with his job? She had thought along those lines. Him inquiring about her happiness had never occurred to her. And why would it? How could the answer to that question possibly prompt him to dye his hair jet-black and step up his exercise routine?
"That doesn't make any sense." She finally told the psychiatrist but the woman merely smiled.
It didn't surprise her that her patient was unable to make the connection. She could've told her that the Sheffield's butler had also sought out therapy with one of her colleagues, Doctor Miller, in order to deal with his inferiority complex concerning his station in life. She was sure that this piece of information would've made much more sense to the blonde but that would've been too easy. If she was going to breach her professional ethics at all she was going to make it worthwhile in the long run.
