Big, fat thanks again to GDA, for proof-reading. :)

Chapter 4

Lightman residence

Emily's face was sheepish. She wrinkled her nose as she tried to read her father.

"What did you do now?" she probed, knowing instinctively that he'd done something. And that it wasn't good.

Cal's daughter was sitting on a barstool in the kitchen pantry, her laptop open in front of her and a slew of paper scattered all around it.

Cal stared at her, not answering. Instead, he saw his phone beeping and answered it with lightning speed when he saw Eli's number on the other end.

"I'm at the hospital. The docs want to do a transfusion but Foster doesn't want to."

"Why not?"

"I don't know...I think she just wants to go home."

Cal exhaled. So he wasn't an MD but he'd seen with his own two eyes what happened tonight. Had seen how much blood she'd lost. Figured that trying to tough it out and letting the body recover on its own was a seriously lousy idea.

"Well, convince her otherwise!"

"I can't force her!"

"Just make her see reason for god's sake. Don't just stand there and nod your head like a lap dog!"

"Last time I checked she was still my boss and she's your partner, not mine."

Cal exhaled. He had a point. Gillian was his best friend, not Loker's. "Can you just try and convince her? For her sake not mine."

"Okay...I'll try."

"Loker?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks...for staying with her."It's all he had it in him to muster. He didn't wait for Loker to say anything else before ending the call.

"Dad?" Emily got off the barstool and stood next to him now, having followed the conversation. "What's going on? Who were you talking about?"

Cal eyed his daughter. Saw the worry on her young face. He didn't want to have this conversation. Didn't want to relive that moment again.

His angry fist hitting the book shelf. The scythe tumbling down. The blade slicing into her arm.

Emily moved to put her arms around him, because she loved him and because she wore her heart on her sleeve. Like someone else he knew and loved. "Something's wrong isn't it?"

He sat down on the barstool, letting his shoulders sink with the weight of the day's events. "Yeah..."

Cal also let her pour him a glass of wine and then, after drinking half of it, he told her what happened.

Emily let out a gasp when he mentioned the worst of it. The blade. The blood. Foster looking at him as though he was something she wanted to flush from her system.

"Is she... going to be okay?"

Okay was a relative term. "I don't know...Loker's with her at the hospital. She wouldn't let me..." He couldn't quite finish. Part of him still wanted to drive there regardless of what Gillian had told him. Regardless of how furious she was with him.

He needed to be there. Needed to know.

"Dad..." she put an arms around him from the back, pensively resting her chin on one of his shoulders. "It was an accident...I'm sure she knows that."

"No," he told her, not willing to let himself take that route. "A gust of wind is an accident, Em. Whacking a book shelf isn't."

"But it's not like you meant for that to happen! Gillian knows you'd never hurt her. "

Does she?

"Dad, " His perpetually upbeat daughter looked inconsolable. "You have to fix this. Have to make it right."

Cal returned her hug. "I know." He set down his glass of wine. "Em...do me a favour?"

"What?"

"I know you have school tomorrow, but will you go see her after your classes? Make sure she's okay?"

Emily nodded, relieved by the notion that there was something tangible that could be done. Because something was better than nothing.

"For sure."

Foster Residence

The next day

Gillian was still on the sofa when she heard someone knocking on the door. She had no idea what time it was. She rarely wore a watch and her cell phone was out of reach. But she guessed it was already afternoon.

She hadn't slept well. Her arm hurt too much and now her entire body felt sore. She probably looked the part too, still wearing the clothes she'd worn on the way home from the hospital yesterday.

There was another knock. Louder this time.

Cal, she figured.

Gillian didn't budge.

His guilty face was the last thing she wanted to see right now. She knew that this was killing him. Had seen as much all over his face yesterday. She might not have had his skill for reading micro-expressions, but the guilt, regret and self-loathing written all over him would've been hard for anyone to miss.

Right now she didn't care. Instead, she hoped that her lack of a response would make him give up and go away.

There was one more knock. Even louder this time.

Get lost, Cal.

It was then that she heard a key turning in the lock of her door as it slowly opened.

Gillian cringed. Of course. How could she forget? He had a key to her place. Just as she had a key to his.

It was something they'd done years ago. His idea. Just in case, he'd told her. They got involved with too many criminal elements in their line of work, not to take every precaution. Strangely enough he hadn't insisted on having access to Loker or Torres' homes.

"Gillian?" she heard a familiar young woman's voice coming from the doorway. "Are you home?"

She wasn't ready for visitors but at least it wasn't Cal. At least he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't take kindly to him barging into her home today.

"Hi, Emily," she acknowledged with resignation when she saw the young woman's face from the hallway.

Cal's daughter offered her a cautious smile. "Hi, Gillian." She held up a large brown, paper bag. "I brought you some food."

Emily took off her shoes before coming into her living room. Polite and considerate. Gillian marvelled sometimes how it was possible that half of the girl's genes came from Cal Lightman.

That's one thing you got right, Cal. You did good by Emily. Really good.

Emily sat down on the couch next to her. "I'm sorry I just came barging into your house. Dad told me what happened. I was worried and when you didn't answer..."

Gillian eyed her. No phony small talk. She had to admit she liked that. It was very Cal Lightman of her. "He sent you," she told her.

Emily nodded. "Yeah...but after what he told me, I would have come anyway."

A lop-sided smile lifted her lips. "You're sweet, Emily. But I'm fine, really."

"You don't..." Emily paused in mid-conversation, much like she did sometimes. "Look so fine."

Gillian probably didn't have the grounds to argue against that.

Emily's gaze was downcast and she fiddled with a beaded bracelet on her wrist. "Dad feels terrible about what happened..." she mumbled.

Gillian exhaled. She didn't want to have this conversation. Not yet. "I know."

"He wants to see you. Tell you himself."

Gillian bit her lip.

Damn you. For putting her in this position. Why did you even have to tell her?

"I know..." she told her. "I know you want things to be okay with me and your dad, but I'm not going to lie to you and say they are. They're not."

It wasn't what Emily wanted to hear and Gillian could see the disappointment written all over her face.

"You mean the world to him, Gill..."

Gillian closed her eyes.

He's got a hell of a way of showing it.

"Em..." she said softly, "I don't want to talk about this. Please."

"Okay." Emily nodded. Understanding. "So...are you hungry? I brought lots of food. How about some coffee?"

"I'd love some coffee and something to eat." On top of everything she was starving.

Emily made her way into her kitchen. Started brewing fresh coffee for both of them until its aroma filled the living room. Then she picked up and opened the containers of medication that Gillian had thrown against the wall in frustration last night and brought them to her.

"Should you be taking these?"

Gillian nodded. "Yeah..." Aside from the antibiotics, she really could use something for the pain. The doctor hadn't been kidding when he said it would be bad.

"I'll get you some water."

After reading the instructions and handing her one pill from each container Emily left them both on the table. "I'm going to leave these open for you, okay?"

"Thanks."

After all that, she sat down on the couch next to Gillian and turned on the TV, while eating dinner with her in silence. Stir-fried vegetables, chicken, rice.

Then before getting ready to leave, she helped her clean up and change into something more comfortable before giving her a hug; one that took special care not to brush against her injured arm.

She did all of it as if it were the most natural thing in the world and it almost made Gillian cry again.

"Thanks, Em."

"I put some more food in the fridge, 'cause I figured you weren't up for cooking yet. I hope you like Asian. There's pad thai and some beef and veggies. I got some pastries from Michel's too. I left them in a bag on the kitchen counter. The almond croissants came fresh out of the oven."

"Can I give you anything for all this?"

"No way. I'm billing Dad for this, don't worry."

Emily gave her another hug and then she wrote down a phone number on a piece of paper. "This is my cell number. In case you don't already have it. If there's anything you need...like a driver for a grocery run...or someone to take you to a doctor or a cook or...anything really."

"Emily..."

"I mean it," she said firmly. "My dad's not the only one who cares about you, you know."

Gillian nodded, able to fight back her tears this time. "Okay."

A conspiratorial wink came from her eyes before heading out the door. "Plus, it's not like he even has to know that you called me."