It's after one o'clock and Charlotte still isn't home. Everyone else is long asleep, but Cooper is sitting at the kitchen island, his phone next to his elbow. He checks the time on the microwave incessantly. Amelia said she was running the second scan at midnight, and it's only twenty minutes from the hospital to their new place. She should be home by now.
At the very least, Amelia should have called him to say they're on their way.
He picks up his phone, waking it up and checking the battery - its charged. He looks at the time - 1:17. She should be home by now. He raps the edge of his phone anxiously on the grey granite countertop, a steady taptaptap muffled slightly by his case. It sounds unusually loud in the silence of the kitchen.
When the phone vibrates, he startles so hard he almost drops it. It's a text message, from Amelia: "We're here."
Relief floods him, and he pushes his stool back with a scrape of wood on tile and heads for the front door. Amelia's car is parked in the driveway, idling. The lights are still on, illuminating the closed garage door and making it so he can't see a damned thing, even if he squints.
He's almost to the passenger door when it pops open softly. Charlotte doesn't open it all the way, but she doesn't have to. As soon as there's enough room for his fingers, he grips the top of the door and helps her pull it open. The open door has lit the overhead light inside, and he can see her, finally. She looks even more exhausted than the last time he saw her. Her neck is still in the brace, and so is her shoulder - but he was expecting that.
She's saying something to Amelia, but it's too quiet to make out, and she stops talking when he ducks his head in. "Hey," he greets softly. Charlotte looks to him, but says nothing. Amelia gives him a "hi" in return. "I'm assuming since you're here, everything looked good?"
"Scans are clear," Amelia confirms. "She's all yours."
"Thank you for taking care of her," he says, and then again for good measure, "I mean it. Thank you."
"She'd do the same for me," Amelia tells him dismissively. Like it's nothing. "Do you need help getting her stuff in?"
"Does she have a lot?"
"Enough."
Charlotte speaks up then, finally. "She'd really, really like to go to bed now, if y'all are almost done yappin'." She sounds spent. Depleted. Cooper's heart aches for her.
"Okay," he soothes. "Let's get you inside." He looks to Amelia and asks, "Do you mind bringing her stuff in?"
"Nah, you guys go ahead." She kills the engine, and Charlotte shifts herself gingerly until she's facing him. With great care, they ease her from the car, and once she's on her feet, Cooper wraps his arm around her waist for support. She leans into him, and sighs, and together they make their way up the walk. She's favoring her right leg, but she's steady on her feet, and he's grateful for that. According to Amelia, she wasn't so sure footed earlier.
He leaves the door open for Amelia and guides Charlotte through the foyer and past the living room. She doesn't speak, but she sighs heavily as they approach the bottom of the stairs.
"Need a lift?" he asks, trying to keep it light. Teasing.
He's surprised when she quirks a little smile. "I'm okay," she tells him quietly. "Ankle's just sore, that's all. Stairs seem a little… daunting."
"I've got you," he assures, and her smile widens.
It only lasts a second, though, before it fades into a scowl and she points out, "Also, I can't really see my feet with my neck stuck like this."
Cooper can't help it - he chokes out a little laugh. It shouldn't be funny — she's hurt, after all — but something in the way she said it was just so… her. It's reassuring. She really is going to be okay. "Let me worry about your feet," he says. "Just follow my lead, okay?"
"Mmhmm."
They take the first step carefully, then the next, one more… She winces slightly, but seems otherwise okay. On the next step, she asks, "Did Mason get to sleep okay?" and suddenly her voice sounds tired again.
"He went to bed," Cooper tells her. "I can't guarantee he's sleeping. I checked on him about half an hour ago, though, and if he's awake, he's a good faker."
They're making steady progress up the stairs, and he can hear Amelia shut the front door below. A minute later, he hears the tap go on in the kitchen.
"Maybe you should check again?" Charlotte suggests, drawing his attention back to their slow, steady traverse to the second floor. "Let him know I made it home safely…"
"I will," he says, adding, "If he's not really asleep."
They've reached the top now, and he steers her toward their room, glad tonight that it's the first door in the hall. He just wants her in bed, and comfortable. Safe, and home, with him. She must have the same idea, because she heads for the bed immediately, not giving a second thought to the adjoining bath and its promises of clean skin or minty-fresh breath. He doesn't question her choice, just draws the duvet back, and helps her slip out of her shoes and under the covers. Her pillows aren't quite right - she can't sleep her usual way with her neck and shoulder restrained — so he adds one of his own, then adjusts them until she can get comfortable.
She relaxes into the plush softness, then closes her eyes. "I need to sleep for a bit," she murmurs. "I know you have to wake me, but…" And then her voice goes small, almost fragile. "I'm so tired. I just need an hour or two."
He shushes her softly, then lifts his fingers to her face, and brushes aside a few strands of dark blonde hair. "Rest. I'm going to go talk to Amelia for a minute, okay? If you're still awake when I get back, we can talk about what happened."
She hums her agreement, but it's a sleepy statement, and he has a feeling she'll be out like a light by the time he returns.
He kisses her brow again, then heads downstairs.
Amelia is waiting for him in the kitchen, and they go over Charlotte's injuries, all the pertinent info and instructions for care. It's not like he doesn't know how to take care of someone who's been hurt, but Charlotte's kept him shut out of this for most of the night, so Amelia has the upper hand when it comes to knowing what she's been through, and what she needs. It's all as he expected - wake her every few hours tonight, just to make sure she can be woken. The neck brace can come off during the day, but make sure she takes it easy. Shoulder brace stays on except for showers or baths, until a doctor tells her otherwise.
She tells Cooper to relax, as well - doctor's orders, she says. Take a chill pill, Charlotte's going to be okay.
He knows it's true, but he's still unsettled by the whole thing. They've had more than their share of upheaval in the past two years, and he keeps finding himself wondering when everything will finally just settle down and get back to normal.
When they've gone over everything, Amelia heads home, and Cooper wearily climbs the stairs again. He stops in Mason's room first, sitting on the edge of his bed, and stroking a hand over his head. He doesn't stir, not even a little bit, so Cooper decides he can wait until morning for his reassurances.
He leaves the room, shuts the door quietly behind him, and heads for his bedroom. Charlotte's eyes are closed, and she's still and peaceful. Or mostly peaceful, anyway. There's a slight crease between her brows, like she's not quite settled, not quite comfortable. She's definitely asleep, though, that much he can tell. And if he wasn't sure, her lack of response to his quietly whispered, "You awake?" provided the final confirmation.
Cooper strips down to underwear and his t-shirt and climbs in next to her. He sets his alarm for 3:00, and dims the bedside light until it's low, but not quite out, then settles in for the night.
He doesn't sleep - not for the first cycle, anyway. He just lays awake, watching her. Memorizing the shape of her for the thousandth time. The angle of her cheek, the slope of her nose, the curve of her mouth. He studies her lashes, the color of her hair, the contour of her elbow, the tone of her skin against the dark cotton of her scrubs. His eyes grow grainy, and heavy, but he can't take his them off of her, not until his alarm beeps shrilly and he's woken her for the first time.
She settles quickly again, and Cooper loops his fingers around her wrist, her pulse beating lazily beneath his fingertips and reassuring him that she's okay, and there with him. Beat after beat. He counts each one, beat, beat, beat, and lets the steady climb lull him into sleep.
