Mad Men belongs to Matt Weiner, AMC, and Lionsgate.
"Betty!" Don shouted. Time seemed to have stopped as Don looked at his wife's tiny frame sprawled on the carpet. I didn't mean it, Don told himself, running to her side. Don shook his head as Betty pressed a hand to the back of her head, now covered in blood from the contact.
Betty let out desperate moan as she writhed on the ground. "Oooohh." Betty closed her eyes to the pain.
Don looked up to find his two young children starring into the room through the hallway. "Go to your room!" Don said in desperation as he watched the blood continue to ooze from Betty's head. "Hang in there Betts," Don whispered, instantly regretting his act of violence toward his wife. Don grabbed a roll of paper towels from the bathroom sink, instructing her to use them to blot the blood. Don proceeded to reach for the bedroom phone, dialing the Hanson family across the street. Don breathed a sigh of relief when Francine agreed to come over and watch the kids.
"Betts can you stand?" Don asked, gently propping her body off the ground. "I'm going to take you the hospital."
Betty continued to weep as Don helped her off the ground, swinging one of her shoulders over his neck for support. Bracing one hand around her waist, Don led her down the stairs.
Francine Hanson came to the door within minutes, unable to get an answer out of either party as to exactly what had transpired. Francine watched the car drive away as she went up the stairs to tend to a very upset Sally and Bobby who were filled with dozens of questions as to what exactly had happened that night.
Don secured Betty in the front seat of his convertible. "It'll be okay," Don told her as Betty pressed her hand against the back of her head.
"Should we have waited for an ambulance?" Betty winced through the pain.
Don shook his head. "This is quicker; we'll take you to the nearest Emergency Room and get you looked at right away."
Betty turned her body away from her husband, who struggled to keep his eye on the road. "Betty I…" Don was at a loss for words as he looked for the right way to apologize.
"Don't say anything," Betty said coolly, starring out the window at the blank sky.
Don abided by her wishes as they finally pulled into the St. Vincent's Hospital. Don rushed to open Betty's door, offering her his hand to help her out. Betty took Don's arm, looking straight ahead at the double doors that held the emergency room. Don ushered Betty to one of the chairs in the lobby of the hospital while he went to the front desk to pick up paperwork to fill out.
"How are you feeling?" Don asked as he wrote their names on the first page of the form.
"How do you think?" Betty asked with a hint of anger in her voice. The bleeding had finally subsided, but Betty could feel a sizable bump on the back of her head. "How could you?" she asked softly, finally looking him in the eye.
"Birdie, I…" Don began to plead for forgiveness as one of the nurses called out Betty's name.
"You can finish the paperwork and give it to the secretary at the desk," she instructed Don as she helped Betty to the examining room. He looked at the next question on the form. Describe the incident resulting in the visit to the Emergency Room. His face turned white as a sheet as he wondered what Betty would tell the doctor in the exam room. The pen dropped to the floor with a tiny ring, unnoticeable to Don, who was drowning in his thoughts.
"Sir?" A woman in a white uniform, who Don could only assume to be a nurse, approached him with a compassionate smile. Don said nothing as he reached down for the fallen pen. "Sir, I'm sure that your wife will be just fine. St. Vincent's is known for excellent care," she said, patting his shoulder.
Don managed a 'thank-you' for the young woman, asking her if she could please check on his wife and see how she was doing. The woman promised to do exactly that, thanking him for his apparent attentiveness to his wife's condition.
Don quickly moved onto the next question on the page. Describe the patient's medical history. Closing his eyes, Don attempted to conjure up all of the little details that Betty had told him about her family, regretting the fact that he couldn't remember a word of it.
The sound of one of the hospital nurses moved Don from his deep thought. He was finally allowed to see his wife. Don walked down the immaculate ivory walls, his mind continuing to race. He replayed the night's events again, everything culminating in a giant showdown – the product of unspoken words and repressed anger.
Looking through the window of the patient door, Don saw Betty talking to one of the doctors. Don opened the door with one quick motion, taking a stance by his wife, resting on the hospital table.
The doctor crossed over to Don, offering him his hand in greeting. "I'm Dr. Rydell. Mr. Draper it seems that your wife is a very lucky lady." The doctor produced charts for Don and Betty to see, all showing sign of no permanent damage, nothing more than a bump on the head that was going to heal in time.
"That's wonderful," Don said, taking Betty's hand in his. Her tiny hand felt limp in his large manly grasp.
"I advised your wife to be more careful next time," Dr. Rydell explained, patting her on the shoulder.
"More careful?" Don asked, sending a questioning look to Betty. Betty shot him an authoritative look, squeezing his hand.
"The injury," Dr. Rydell interjected. "Betty said that she was climbing on a chair to hang a painting and fell backwards."
Betty nodded her head as Don rubbed his eyes.
"She'll be more careful, I'll see to it myself," Don assured the doctor, more than willing to play along with Betty's lie.
"I'm ready to send her home right now with instructions to take it easy for the next few days. If there's any problems or discomfort feel free to come by any time." Dr. Rydell shook the couple's hands, leaving them alone in the room.
"So that's it?" Don asked as Betty grabbed her purse.
"I guess so," Betty said.
Don opened the door, for Betty, taking her arm in his. Don filled the checkout papers at the front desk as Betty looked out the window at the starry New York sky. The clock in the hospital read 10:00, and they both knew that it was finally time to head home.