A/N: Hey, all! I'm glad to see some positive response so far. Here's part 2. It's a little shorter, but the third and final chapter is much longer. I hope you enjoy, and as always, please leave a review at the end.
4:52 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport
Charlie wandered over to a giant pillar and leaned against it, his heart still pounding. He closed his eyes and fought off the sudden lump forming in his throat.
It was soon clear that he'd lost that battle. A small sob managed to escape him. This whole day is just so damn frustrating! he thought. He slid down the pillar until he was sitting and the tears began to fall.
Charlie wasn't sure how long he sat there and cried, but it soon occurred to him that he should call his father and let him know he'd be later than expected. He took a few shaky breaths and stood up like nothing had happened, although surely there had been a few people staring at him. He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to look to find out. Making his way to the men's room, Charlie wiped a hand over his eyes to dry them.
Once inside the bathroom, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. God, I look like I've lived through a series of tornadoes. Then again, he hadn't slept in several nights now, he had been on an airplane, and he had just spent seven minutes sitting on the floor, crying his eyes out in the middle of an airport.
He turned on the faucet and rinsed off his face. After drying himself off with a paper towel, he looked in the mirror again. He didn't look much better, but at least now he was presentable. Charlie still looked like he'd been crying. His eyes were bloodshot and a little watery. He shook his head at his reflection in defeat, sniffed, and left the bathroom.
Charlie slowly meandered along until he reached the giant pillar he had cried at earlier, and sat down on the floor again. Only this time, instead of losing control, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed his father's number.
"Hello?" Alan answered. Charlie thought his father sounded as exhausted as he felt.
"Hey, Dad," Charlie breathed.
"Hey, Charlie, what's up?"
"Oh, Dad," Charlie sighed. "My flight from London was late, so I missed my flight to Los Angeles and now I have to connect through Salt Lake City, and I won't land until about midnight. I'm so sorry, Dad!" He felt his eyes burning again with tears, and he could feel his breathing pick up.
Alan must have been able to sense his distress. "Oh, Charlie, it's okay. There wasn't anything you could do about it. It's not your fault, okay, Charlie?"
Are we still talking about the flights? Charlie briefly wondered. "If I had just been there, maybe I would have predicted-"
"No, Charlie," Alan cut him off. "You can't go down that road. You just can't, okay? We can't think about the 'what-ifs'. All we can think about is helping Don now."
An unexpected sob broke through Charlie.
"Charlie," Alan began again. "Charlie, it's okay, son. Just take a few deep breaths. You're okay."
Heeding his father's advice, Charlie took a few seconds just breathing in and out. "I'm sorry, Dad," he managed.
"It's okay, Charlie. You don't have to apologize for anything, you hear me?"
Right then, Charlie wished so much that his father were physically with him. He was a grown man, thirty-four years old, and all he really wanted at that moment was for his father to be able to put his arms around him and comfort him as if he were a small child.
After taking a few more moments to compose himself, Charlie asked his father another important question. "So, uh, is Don doing any better?"
He could hear Alan sigh. "No, Charlie, he's not. His doctor doesn't think Don will make it until the morning."
All of Charlie's internal organs plummeted. "No."
"I'm so sorry, Charlie," Alan apologized. "I know you're upset right now, and I just wish I had better news for you."
"Oh, Dad, what am I supposed to do?" Charlie was aware he sounded much like the little boy he felt like at the moment. "How can I sit here in this airport, and then in Salt Lake, not doing anything except for thinking about how I might never see my brother again?"
Charlie could hear his father take in a shaky breath. "I don't know, Charlie. It'll be kind of like how I can sit here watching one of my sons die while my other son is out there somewhere upset and trying so hard to get here."
"Well, maybe the doctor is wrong anyway," Charlie said, his voice holding much more confidence than he felt. "I mean, the numbers prove it. Don defies the odds all the time. He's a statistical phenomenon; he always has been. It's almost a weird paradox, in a way. Don has been an anomaly so many times that the odds now favor him being one. It's funny, though, how the odds can favor something defying the odds."
Alan gave a small chuckle. "That sounds like your brother, all right."
Charlie allowed himself a small smile, although he knew his father wouldn't see it. "Well, maybe I should let you go now. Don needs you more than I do."
"All right, Charlie," Alan agreed. "Why don't you call and check in when you get to Salt Lake City? Maybe I'll have something more to tell you about Don at that point."
"Okay," Charlie replied. "I'll call you in Salt Lake. And, uh, Dad?"
"Yes, Charlie?"
"Uh," Charlie faltered. "I love you, Dad."
He could almost see his father's smile over the phone. "I love you too, Charlie. I'll talk to you later. Oh, and Charlie?"
"Yeah, Dad?" Charlie asked a little warily.
"Make sure you eat something," Alan ordered. "You're going to need some strength."
He really knows me too well. "Okay, Dad. I'll get something before my flight."
"Okay, good," said Alan. "Bye, son."
"Bye." Charlie flipped his phone shut and took a deep breath as it really hit him for the first time. There was a strong possibility he would never see his brother again, and if he did, it might only be for a short amount of time.
He just wish there was something he could do. For all his mathematical abilities, and his hands were completely tied.
11:47 p.m. Pacific Daylight Time
Somewhere above Southern California
Charlie could have peed his pants with anticipation. He was seated in a window seat, right next to the aircraft's wing. The window had smudges from where Charlie had his face smashed against the window, looking below at the night lights of the Los Angeles area. One of those buildings, somewhere down there, was the hospital that currently held his brother. So close, yet so far, Charlie thought to himself.
And yet, it will still be a couple hours before I'm there. Charlie glanced down at his watch, surprised to realize what time it was. It was nearly 8 a.m. in England meaning it had been twenty-four hours since he was sitting in the airport, waiting to leave. After twenty-four hours of traveling, he should be tired, but he wasn't. He supposed it was the sense of urgency that had hung around him all day like a perfume. It was almost like an adrenaline rush.
He had called his father again in Salt Lake. The bad news was, Don was still not expected to last through the night. The good news was that for the moment, he was still alive. But that had been almost three hours ago. A lot could happen in three hours. For all Charlie knew, Don was already-
No. Don't think that. It was so hard to stay positive though, when he hadn't seen Don for himself.
Noise filled the cabin of the plane as the landing gear hit the runway. One step closer. Charlie wanted to be off the plane as quick as possible. He hadn't checked any bags (thank goodness, or they probably would have gotten lost with all the flight changes), so he'd beat the rest of the passengers on his flight outside. He was going to need to catch a cab; he didn't want to ask his father to leave Don to come pick him up. If he got down to the street entrance first, he would beat out any other potential cab-seekers. He just hoped he had enough cash to make it to the hospital where Don was.
A few minutes later, Charlie was nearly running down the escalator and out the automatic sliding doors. Once outside, Charlie walked up and down the sidewalk, but oddly enough, he couldn't find a cab anywhere.
For once, this was an easily fixable problem. All he had to do was call for one. But still, it would take another few minutes that Charlie (or Don, really) just didn't have. And after so many delays, something had to give. If it was midnight, he was supposed to have been here six hours ago.
Thankfully, Charlie had the good sense to take his anger out on his bag with the clothes in it and not the one with his laptop on it. He threw the bag on the ground forcefully and gave it a few hard kicks of frustration as he pulled out his cell phone.
"Why me?" Charlie whimpered, talking to no one in particular. "My brother is dying for Christ's sake! Why is the world against me seeing him now?"
"Not anymore, Charlie," a voice called out.
TBC
Okay, that's all for today. And yes, it's short, but this is where I really wanted to leave it. Next part will be up in about 24 hours or so. Hope you enjoyed and PLEASE REVIEW! Pretty please? With a cherry on top?
