"Move!" Owen bellowed as he shoved through the group of people that were trying desperately to run in the opposite direction. Sirens flared as the gunshot still echoed in Owen's ears. His heartbeat pounding hard in his chest. "Claire!" He called out, desperately trying to listen for her to answer him. He needed her to yell at him for following her. He wanted to listen to her scream at him for overreacting. "Claire, please!" He found himself now begging for her out loud. How could he be so stupid! How could he let her walk away!
Finally making it to the scene, Owen stumbled forward. "No! Claire!" He pleaded, falling to his knees beside her. He focused on her stomach where she was shot. Shoving Kirk out of the way, Owen immediately reached into his back pocket and placed his handkerchief over her wound. Using one hand to put pressure on the now blood soaked fabric, he used his other hand to keep track of her pulse.
His senses were slowly coming back as he concentrated on the light thrumming of her pulse against his fingers. "Stay with me," He whispered to her, unsure if she could actually hear him or not.
Paramedics rushed around him to tend to Claire. He stepped away just enough for them to work on her. "Anyone have location on the shooter?" One of the paramedics asked.
Owen's focus changed immediately. He was no longer concentrated on Claire's condition. He was looking for revenge. Owen listened as one of the officers spoke to the paramedics. "He immediately ran off, heading east," listening to his radio he nodded once. "He's in custody."
Owen looked east, where sure enough, an officer was guiding Alec forward. His arms cuffed behind him. "You son of a bitch!" Owen stormed towards him. Three officers appeared at his side, holding him back.
"Not going to do you any good, son." One of them tried reasoning with him.
As much as Owen hated to admit it, the officer was right. Claire needed him. "Claire," he repeated her name out loud and his head automatically turned in her direction.
"She's stable enough to move." One of the officers informed him. They dropped their hold on Owen and he hurried back to her side.
He hurried over to where they loaded Claire onto the gurney and took her hand in his, squeezing softly. He jumped slightly when he felt her squeeze back. His eyes shot to her face and let out the breath he didn't know he was holding when he saw her eyes flutter open. "Hey," He did his best to smile and brought his free hand up to swipe the bangs off her clammy forehead.
"Owen…" she croaked, her voice raspy.
"We have to move." One of the paramedics informed them and Claire tightened her hand, as much as she could around Owen's.
"I'm not going anywhere." He promised as he stepped into the ambulance with her. She nodded and closed her eyes, but the statement was meant for the paramedic who was about to tell Owen to meet them at the hospital. The two men locked eyes and the paramedic immediately knew arguing with him was not going to end well.
Stepping out of the ambulance he was immediately pushed aside as doctors and nurses swarmed Claire. She was wheeled away and Owen was instructed to wait in the waiting room. He couldn't move. He couldn't walk away from the spot he last saw Claire. Terrified of what will come next.
He found himself leaning against the brick wall, needing it for support. Sliding down the wall, losing all feeling in his legs, he let himself fall apart. Scared of the last words he would ever speak to Claire were negative. He let her walk away. But why did she have to be so stubborn? Why couldn't she understand this is exactly what he was trying to protect her from? He ran through the last twenty-four hours in his head, trying hard to realize where they went wrong. Closing his eyes, he could almost hear the shower running as he entered the hotel room. He could smell her shampoo as she tried curling up beside him on the couch.
Owen's eyes shot open and he glared down at his hands, balling them into tight fists. The hands that pushed her away. What could possibly be their last night together was spent pushing her away. He let his head fall back and hit the bricks behind him. This was all his fault. He knew just how much he loved her, but he was no longer confident that she knew.
"Mr. Grady?" It seemed like days passed before someone came to find him.
Owen looked up immediately, "Yeah?" He said and jumped to his feet.
"Claire is stable enough for surgery. She's being prepped now… is there anyone you'd like to call?"
Owen shook his head slowly before his eyes went wide, "Yes!" He gasped. "Her sister. I need to call her sister." He patted his pockets realizing he didn't have his phone.
The nurse nodded and gently touched his arm to guide him towards the admit desk. Owen gave all the information he could in order for them to track down Karen. With that out of the way he finally allowed himself to find a chair in the waiting room. His gaze flickered towards the TV and groaned. Well, at least the phone call wouldn't be a surprise to Karen. The news reporters were set up outside the hotel talking about the shooting. Shooting. Owen shuddered.
"Mr. Grady, Mrs. Mitchell would like to speak to you." The elderly woman behind the admit desk held the phone up for Owen.
He jumped up quickly, taking the phone. He could already hear Karen's frantic voice on the other end. "She's ok." Owen spoke softly, not able to find his full voice. He was barely holding himself together.
"Oh, God, Owen. She was shot? How did this happen? I can't get a flight out there until morning. I'm so glad you're with her. Please, please, Owen watch over my baby sister." She sobbed into the phone.
"I'll keep you posted," he managed to get out before reaching over the desk to hang up the phone.
Watch over my baby sister. Repeated over and over again in his head. How could he tell her he failed? He couldn't keep her safe. He failed. His head spun as the ringing of the gunshot haunted him. He blinked a few times trying to stay focused. "Mr. Grady, are you alright?" The elderly woman laid her hand gently over his. He looked down realizing he was gripping the edge of the counter.
Clenching his jaw he kept his mouth shut. Of course he wasn't alright! Owen spun around and stormed towards the men's restroom. Once inside, he paced the bathroom trying to get his breathing back to normal. Karen would be here tomorrow and he was going to have to tell her he couldn't protect Claire. He pushed her away.
Gripping the edge of the sink, he glared at himself in the mirror. Finally looking at himself he took note of the blood on his shirt. Looking closer at his hands he noticed the blood there, too. With tears clouding his vision, he turned on the faucet and began scrubbing his hands. Choking on a sob, he tried scrubbing at his shirt, but failed at trying to make the blood disappear.
Owen balled up the stained paper towel and chucked it at the garbage. The wet towel slopped to the floor and he stomped over to pick it up, slamming it into the garbage. Fire burning in his eyes as the tears spilled over, he grabbed the garbage can and tossed it across the bathroom. It clattered against the tile wall and clamored to the ground. He dropped to his knees and let himself cry.
The bathroom door swung open as two security guards rushed in. They immediately recognized Owen and walked silently into the bathroom. While one of them moved to pick up the garbage can the other knelt down in front of Owen. "Is there anyone that could be here with you?"
Owen shook his head. There was no one he wanted but Claire. No one that would take the pain away but her.
"How about a cup of coffee? It's going to be a long afternoon and I'm sure you'd like to stay focused the moment she comes out of surgery." The dark haired security guard stood up and held his hand out to help Owen to his feet.
As much as Owen didn't want to move, he was right. Owen took his hand and let him help him up.
As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, the receptionist was there with a cup of coffee and a warm smile. Owen took the coffee and forced his own smile. He followed her back to the waiting room and sat as far in the corner as he could.
A few hours went by when Owen recognized the doctor that was walking towards the waiting room. Their eyes met and Owen jumped to his feet, meeting the doctor halfway. "How is she? Is she… Did she… Can I see her?" Not caring what state she was in, he needed to see her.
"Claire is out of surgery. She lost a lot of blood. We were able to locate and remove the bullet. No real damage to any of her organs. She got really lucky."
Owen ran his palm down his face and took a deep breath. She was going to be ok. "Can I see her?"
"She's in recovery right now. It'll be a while before she wakes up."
Owen nodded, "I need to see her."
"I understand, but she's not one hundred percent out of the woods yet. She will be moved to the ICU shortly. Why don't you make whatever calls you need to make and I will be back to get you."
Remembering he had to keep Karen updated, he hurried over to the front desk. The receptionist already had the phone on the counter for him and he dialed Karen's number. "Owen?" She answered on the first ring.
"She's ok." Owen breathed into the phone.
He could hear Karen crying on the other end. "Is she awake? Can I talk to her? Are you with her?" The questions poured out, all of them jumbled together.
"She's in recovery. They will come get me when she's in a room." He answered.
"Thank you Owen—" Karen started, but he cut her off.
"Stop. Just stop thanking me." He felt the lump in his throat choking him. Before she could say anything more he hung up the phone, knowing he was going to probably have to explain himself when she arrived.
Not able to wait any longer, Owen paced back and forth in front of the doors where the doctor disappeared behind. He walked until his legs felt like JELLO. Giving up, he slumped against the wall and settled on starring at the door.
"Mr. Grady?"
"I need to see her." Owen was on his feet. It took all the strength he had left in his body to not barge into the back and search for her himself.
The doctor nodded and motioned for Owen to follow him. "She's still asleep and we expect she will be asleep for a while. She will be able to hear you though, so feel free to talk to her." The doctor paused at the room and turned to face Owen. "I'm Dr. Greene and I'll be on call all night long."
Owen reached out to shake his hand. "Thank you."
Dr. Greene nodded and pointed to a man standing on the other side of the doorway. "This is—"
"Kirk." Owen finished his sentence. He glanced down and noticed he was armed this time.
Kirk nodded once. "I'll be switching out with a few other security guards. No one will enter this room unless you authorize it. The board agreed that this is what Simon would have done for her."
Owen raised an eyebrow, surprised he was placed in charge of something like that. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Owen clapped him on the shoulder and stepped into the dark room. He shut the door behind him and stood frozen as he listened to the heavy silence. The steady beeping of the monitors was the only sound.
He stepped around the curtain and he sucked in a sharp breath. If it weren't for the oxygen mask and wires attached to her, it would be as if she's sleeping. "Oh, Claire," Owen sighed, "I'm so sorry." He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her hand. "You can blame me for this. I blame myself."
Owen reached out and grabbed the chair beside the bed and sat down. Without letting go of her hand, he laid his head down beside her arm and let his eyes close. He wasn't sure what time it was, but having her beside him, he was able to calm down enough to feel exhausted.