Thanks for all the encouragement! I can't promise to always update this fast, but the story is rolling along pretty good right now.

Part 2

Gillian couldn't wrap her head around the concept. Brain damage? Cal? No, that brilliant mind couldn't…it wasn't possible. But Cal was human, just flesh and blood. It wasn't always other people and their families that things like this happened to. Cal had no special immunity.

"But," Emily started hesitantly. "He was awake when we saw him before surgery." She glanced at Gillian for confirmation. "He seemed like he knew us, didn't he?'

"Yes," Gillian was quick to affirm. "He seemed to be fairly oriented, considering…"

"That's good," the doctor grinned. "That's a very good sign. Like I said, his X-ray and CAT scan were just outside of standard norms, so brain damage isn't a certainty only a possibility. I don't like to keep patient's families in the dark." He stood up, arching to stretch back muscles as he did. "You'll probably be seeing quite a lot of me in the next few days. I like to keep close track of my patients."

Gillian stretched out her hand to take his. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Slaungard gave her hand a firm squeeze. "I'll have someone take you up to the ICU waiting room. It'll probably be awhile yet before they get him settled in a room, but the family waiting room upstairs is much more comfortable."

He was right, the ICU family room was much more comfortable. Couches, recliners and easy chairs were arranged in cozy little groups, with a few computer workstations and vending machines against the wall. The small group shuffled in and made themselves at home for another wait.

"Can I get anybody anything?" Eli offered, his hands clenched in a tight ball.

Gillian glanced at her watch. Seven hours, they'd already been here more than seven hours, it was now quickly approaching nine at night. "You don't have to stay, Eli. It's getting late. You too, Ria."

A testament to how tired and worried Gillian was, she almost missed the identical looks of offensive on the faces of her co-workers. "No, I didn't mean…"

"A cuppa," Emily blurted.

What?" the three adults asked in unison.

"A cuppa," Emily repeated. "Dad always said…" she looked over at Gillian, her large dark eyes almost overwhelming the rest of her features. "He said when the world's going to shit, have a nice cuppa tea and some biccies." She managed a slight smile. "He is English, you know"

Gathering Emily against her, Gillian sent an apologetic look at their staff. "I think a cuppa would be great right now."

Eli smiled back, apology accepted. "C'mon, Torres, let's go find a cuppa and some biccies."

"You know," Gillian whispered in Emily's ear. "Your dad wouldn't like to hear you swearing like that."

Emily rolled her eyes. "It's just a word. How is it different from crap or..or poop? They mean the same thing."

Gillian was speechless for a second, then had to bite down on a smile. "He still wouldn't like it."

If Emily rolled her eyes any harder they would fall out of her head. "Fine. Whatever. But he's the one who said it first."

Pulling her in for another hug, Gillian released her smile. "I think you already know that parents don't like their kids to do a lot of things they do themselves."

"Yeah, I figured that out a while ago," she laughed. But the laughter morphed into a strangled sob. "He's got to be all right, Gill. He's just got to! What will I do without him? I can't lose my dad!"

Gillian drew the sobbing girl against her shoulder. "Shhh, sweetheart, shhhh. We just have to face this one day at a time. One hour at a time if we have to. Just what's there in front of us. If we start worrying about 'what-if' or 'maybe' we make ourselves crazy and we won't be able to help your dad when he needs us. Deal with what's in front of us and any thing else…well, we'll go there when we get there."

Emily's sobs lessened then stopped, leaving her mopping her face and struggling to regulate her breathing. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Oh, don't be sorry, luv," Gillian borrowed Cal's favorite endearment. "Tears aren't a bad thing. There will be times in the next days, where you will need to be strong, for your dad's sake. But this isn't one of them. Whenever you feel the need, you can come to me, " Gillian added hastily, "Or your mom. "Or even Eli and Ria. Or lock yourself in a bathroom, if being alone makes you feel better."

Emily snuggled in closer. "You too, you know. You don't have to take care of everyone by yourself. It's okay to take care of yourself, too. Or let someone else take care of you for a little while. You're not alone, Gill."

"I know, sweetheart. Thank you."

Cal Lightman's thoughts were scattered, elusive, impossible to hold on to for more than a fleeting moment. He was vaguely aware of pain, quite a massive amount of it, actually, but it seemed quite a distance away and not worth worrying about at the moment. Voices talked around him, but he couldn't concentrate enough to understand what they were saying. Only word fragments penetrated the porridge in his brain. "Turn….fine…I need…tube…okay…another pump…roll over…"

Hands tugged at him, rolling him over onto his side. He didn't like it one bit but found there was no air in his lungs to protest. Then hands pulled him onto his back, over a huge lump then onto his other side. Trying to prevent any more manhandling, he reached to shove whoever was doing this to him away. Tried to anyway, but found moving his arms as difficult as trying to talk.

What the hell was going on? Immobilized, through drugs, or whatever, he wasn't certain, with other people moving him wherever they wanted him. He groaned. Not again! He really didn't want to be anyone's hostage again.