Bad Day
Disclaimer: As before.
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Chapter 2
The ambulance arrived twenty minutes later, by which time Sharon was champing at the bit. Okay, admittedly she hadn't made it sound that urgent on the phone, but Rusty was barely breathing and she'd used her police I.D. because he was still a witness to Stroh, and the irrational part of her wondered if he'd managed to get to her son.
When the paramedics finally walked through the door Sharon greeted them politely, led them to the hallway where she'd covered Rusty with a blanket and a pillow to support his head, and gave them a detailed description of what had occurred.
While Rusty was being examined, Sharon moved around the condo meticulously retrieving items in case he needed to stay in hospital. She detached herself from the situation and sought refuge in practicality and rhythm.
Click. She picked up toothbrush and toothpaste.
Click. She grabbed his rucksack and threw in a change of clothes.
Click. She added a couple of bottles of water to her work bag and grabbed some fruit snacks as well.
Click. She paused in her living room, a bag in each hand. The paramedics had apparently decided to take Rusty in and were lifting him onto a stretcher. The sight of her youngest son lying motionless between the two men sent a shiver down her spine but she suppressed it ruthlessly. Time enough to panic later.
Mechanically she accompanied the paramedics out of the condo, down the stairs and into the waiting ambulance in complete silence. The ride to the hospital blurred; Sharon was focussed solely on Rusty. Her memory, usually so acute, usually able to store every pixel of her surroundings, seemed to shut down except for the image of Rusty, pale and still on the bed in front of her.
They got to the hospital and Rusty was whisked away. She was pushed into a waiting area and instructed to remain there. This was where Flynn found her ten minutes later, a forlorn figure standing frozen in the middle of the room still clutching the bags.
He walked round to face her, then carefully prised the bags out of her hands. He set them down on one of the chairs and walked back to her. Her face was blank, as though if she showed any expression she would break.
Slowly, gently, he put his arm round her and guided her to a seat next to the bags. He handed her one of the cups of coffee he'd thought to bring with him and settled back in his own chair. Sharon gripped the cardboard cup convulsively and for a second he thought she'd break the flimsy container, but her hands relaxed and he was able to move his eyes away from it to study her.
That awful stony expression was still on her face. She sat rigid on her chair staring at the floor ahead of her. Flynn knew that nothing he could say would induce her to move until she knew Rusty was alright. He was in for the long haul this afternoon.
Feeling a sudden surge of sympathy, he placed his arm around her again and hugged her close. She buried her face in his shoulder and he pulled her in more tightly. They had been dating long enough for him to know that she would not lose control in public, but here, wrapped in his arms, he had created a private place for her to unravel.
He was not surprised when he felt her shoulders shake. The adrenaline she had been grasping ever since Rusty had collapsed on her was dissipating fast, and perhaps it was better she regained her equilibrium sooner rather than later.
It did not last long, nor did she cry. Sharon Raydor had an iron grip on her emotions, a necessity borne of years of police work and trying to ensure harmony in a household broken by an alcoholic ex-spouse. By the time the Provenzas, Sykes, Tao, Sanchez, and even Buzz had arrived (she had expected Andy to call them, Rusty was family), she had regained her control and was simply staring grimly into space, conceding only to do so while lying against Flynn's arm.
The rest of the team greeted Flynn quietly, patted Sharon on the arm in sympathy and took their places in the room. The waiting area lapsed back into silence as the team kept vigil.
It really wasn't that long, not long enough to mean a dire situation, but to Sharon it felt like an eternity before a doctor entered the room. She looked taken aback to see so many people in the room but fortunately Patrice stepped forwards and whatever comment she was about to make died on her lips.
'Hello Doctor Singh,' Patrice said very properly. 'Yes, we are all here for Rusty Beck. His mother, Captain Raydor is there,' she indicated.
'Captain,' Dr Singh said. Sharon stood up, Flynn imitating her. 'Are you his father?' she asked, eyeing Flynn in confusion.
'No,' Flynn replied hastily. 'I'm...' he paused, unable to think of an adequate word. This was getting to be a habit.
'This is my partner Andy,' Sharon said, stepping in. Even in this, the most scary of situations, she could feel the rest of the team grinning at one another. They were such children. 'You can talk to both of us.'
'Well, it appears that Rusty has many of the symptoms of meningitis.' Sharon felt her knees go weak at the doctor's words. 'But it doesn't seem to be severe enough to be the full blown condition yet. We are going to do a lumbar puncture later in the day in order to confirm the diagnosis. In the meantime, his fever is still high, so we'll let him sleep and we have given him antibiotics as a precaution. I'm sure you want to see him, but it is best to let him rest for now, so the two of you may look through the door, but I'm afraid that's all you can do.'
'I have a bag for him,' Sharon managed to say. 'Could that be put in the room?'
'Of course Captain. I will hand you over to one of the nurses and they will escort you to your son's room.'
Dr Singh signalled to the door of the waiting area and a smiling nurse came in. She cheerfully took the rucksack out of Sharon's hand and they walked down the corridor to Rusty's room.
Peeping through the window in the door, Sharon could see that Rusty was hooked up to an I.V. and his flushed face was at least free of pain lines as he slept. The nurse slipped into the room and deposited the bag on the chair next to the bed before exiting silently.
'You can stay at the hospital,' she said, 'but I would recommend you go home. Mr Beck won't be waking up for a while, and you can't remain in the room during the lumbar puncture, so it is probably best to return later this evening.'
'Thank you,' Flynn replied, because Sharon seemed incapable of speech for once. 'I'll take her home.'
The nurse nodded and disappeared into another patient's room to check on them. Flynn led Sharon away from Rusty's door, although he felt her body protest. Mama Bear wants to stay and protect her cub, he thought to himself.
They went back to the waiting area and Flynn delivered the update in Rusty's condition in the calmest voice he could manage. As a former nurse, Patrice frowned at his vagueness, but Flynn was not the one who would have to endure her endless questioning in the car on the way home. Good luck with that Provenza.
The team dispersed after Flynn promised to send updates via text, and calls if it was an emergency. He walked Sharon to his car and got her comfortable in the passenger seat before getting in himself and driving away.
They had just left the hospital grounds when Sharon turned to him. 'Meningitis,' she said weakly. 'What if it is? My poor boy!'
He'd only ever seen this happen in cliché tv shows and films, but Flynn had to pull over and comfort his distraught girlfriend. For the first time in his life, he saw Sharon Raydor cry.
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Thank you so much for the first chapter reviews. Hope you like this. More to come.