Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough
by Criminally Charmed
Disclaimer - not mine. But there is a rumor of a backroom auction...Maybe soon.
Oh, and I am not a medical expert. My training is a combination of too many afternoons watching Emergency and reading, plus a steady use of Wikipedia.
Chapter Ten
On the fifth floor, the elevator doors opened and the Tracys followed Dr. Wetherall to wing where they were provided with special security badges. The physician explained as forms were completed, "This is the so-called "celebrity" wing. High profile people, some famous, a few infamous…As long as they don't need specialized care or it is care that can be administered here, it's easier to keep one wing media-free than all of them."
Remembering the difficulties they had with the media after Gordon's accident, Jeff and John grimly nodded. Emily had encountered similar wings at Cedar Sinai in Los Angeles and likewise thought nothing of it except some relief that Alan would be able to recover in some degree of peace. But all of them hoped Alan could go home soon, where they could truly keep him safe.
Dr, Wetherall was leading them down the hall, speaking over his shoulder. "Alan is in room 517, all of the rooms in this wing are private and -"
Whatever he would have said next ended when a slender African-American doctor came out of a room near the nurses' station. Looking up, she nodded at Dr. Wetherall.
"So, Robert," she said in a melodious voice, traces of something tropical running through the tones, "is this our patient's family?"
Nodding, Dr. Wetherall made introduction quickly. "This is Alan's father, Jeff Tracy, his brother, John, and his doctor-slash-sister-in-law, Dr. Emily Tracy."
"Emily Tracy?" the other woman frowned before smiling. "Oh, yes – the young doctor with the ambitious plan? Before you leave, I would like to speak with you about possibly volunteering for your program. Getting premium medical care to remote areas is a wonderful idea. My own family was blessed by a doctor of such compassion, a Dr. Daniel Hebert. When we came to this country, we lived in upstate New Hampshire and my mother's life was saved by Dr. Hebert."
Emily smiled sadly. "Yes, my grandfather was a good man."
Everyone except John was startled by that revelation but the neurologist recovered quickest.
"Then we must make sure excellent care is given to your little brother. And I am not surprised to find that you are kin with Dr. Hebert."
"What were the results of the MRI," Dr. Wetherall returned the focus of the conversation to the original subject.
"Of course," the woman said before looking at Jeff. "I'm Dr. Leola Simone. I am sure I can go into details but how about I make this simple. The good news is, I do not believe Alan will need surgery."
"The shadow on the x-ray?" Emily asked.
"Alan does have a simple skull fracture," Dr. Simone admitted. "And there appears to be a small clot in his head. It does not appear life threatening at this time and surgery could do more harm than good."
"Blood thinners?" was Emily's rapid-fire response.
"We'll prescribe heparin," Dr Simone said. "That should remove the clot and relieve any pressure the clot is causing."
"When can we take Alan home?" Jeff asked.
"I do not know if that is such a good idea," Dr. Simone began only for Jeff to interrupt.
"Doctor, we have a full infirmary and Emily is an emergency medical specialist. All of my sons are medic trained and my son Virgil's fiancée is a former paramedic who is almost finished her training to become a Physician's Assistant. I can have Alan to Mercy General in Auckland in about fifteen minutes if need be."
Dr. Wetherall looked at Dr Simone who shook her head.
"Let us see how Alan is doing in a day or so. He has not even regained consciousness yet. I can not make an accurate assessment until then." Looking carefully at the Tracy men, Dr. Simone nodded.
"Now, I believe you would like to see Alan, yes?"
With trepidation, the family followed her into the room…
Charles Edward Eppes Jr – who had always gone by his middle name to avoid any confusion with his famous father – went outside the hospital to make a phone call. Oddly enough, if Lisa McKenna had survived the blast at Tracy Towers, privacy laws and practices would have forbidden that he place the call. But since he had heard the information second hand, it was – technically – permissible.
"Hello?"
"Hey Dad," Edward breathed out.
"Edward! How's New York? Are you coming home soon?"
"I'm still looking at coming back next week, Dad," Edward assured his father. "It's been fun working with the Columbia Med School but – I do miss LA. At the same time, I can see why you, Mom and Ben love teaching so much. I may have to look into doing something like that back home."
"Sounds great – but that isn't why you called. I can hear it in your voice."
"Channeling Grandpa again, are we?" Edward chuckled before sobering. "Dad – have you been watching the news? The explosion at Tracy Towers?"
"I caught it briefly in my office between classes," Charlie confirmed. "None of the Tracys were hurt were they?"
Edward skirted around the question, having deducted from his aborted conversation in the ER that "Jeff" was Jeff Tracy and the other injured boy was his youngest son, Alan. Kate's e-mails detailing meeting the family had been full of humor and joy, with Edward's closest cousin quasi-joking that she was dating Scott because she liked his little brother so much and wanted to be Alan's big sister. But because of how he learned of Alan's injuries, Edward could say nothing to his father. Even what he was about to do was a gray area.
"I don't know, Dad," Edward said. "But there is at least one person dead and I wanted you to have a head's up. Dad – it was Lisa."
"Lisa?" Charlie puzzled out loud before gasping. "God – not little Lisa McKenna?"
"Yeah, Dad – that Lisa."
Charlie sighed deeply. "I'll make some calls and get an official confirmation before I tell your mother. William hasn't any classes this afternoon and I am fairly sure he is working from home. Shari's accounting business is strictly a home business these days so she should be there as well. I don't want them hearing this from strangers."
"It will be best coming from you, Dad," Edwards said.
There was silence for a moment, making Edward wondering if he had lost the connection before Charlie Eppes spoke again.
"Trust me, Edward – there is no best way to hear something has happened to your child."
"I guess not," Edward admitted. "To change the subject – have you heard from Kate?"
"She's safe," Charlie admitted. "She's keeping busy and misses talking to everyone. But the Bureau is afraid of e-mails or cell phones being traced so for now, we'll have to do a wait and see."
"Well, hopefully they catch Mitchell and Flint soon," Edward said. "Kate was supposed to be on vacation the middle of July and she was planning on spending it in Los Angeles. I just about had her talked into Disney Land."
Charlie gave a small chuckle. "Last time you tried that, the two of you ended up doing Alcatraz. And the time before, it was a Napa Valley wine tasting tour."
"Yeah, well," Edward grumbled, sounding more like the little boy Charlie had read to than a nationally respected cardiovascular-thoracic surgeon. "I'm due to win an argument with our Agent Eppes."
"Against Kate? Good luck with that one, son. Good luck with that one."
Ending the call, Edward tucked his phone back into his lab coat and was about to turn around when a rough hand grabbed his arm…
Devon Flint walked towards the entrance of New York Presbyterian Hospital before detouring away for the doors at the sight of three NYPD officers talking to a woman with thick brown hair and sunglasses, an FBI vest declaring her status.
"Another bitch who doesn't know her place," he angrily thought as he watched as the male police officers taking orders from the agent. But his harsh thought faded as he realized a doctor was talking on a phone. Hoping to use the man's distraction to his advantaged, Flint wondered if he could slip into the facility with the physician.
After a minute, Flint thought he heard his name yet that couldn't be right, could it? But as the man continued to talk, Flint stilled when man starting to talk about "Kate" before saying "Agent Eppes". "No way," Flint mused in disbelief. Then he saw the badge:
VISTITNG PHYSICIAN: C. Edward Eppes, MD, FACC
And as much as he wanted the money Mitchell kept talking about, Flint wanted revenge more, so he found himself grabbing the knife in his pocket with one hand even as the other reached out to grab the doctor's arm…
Jeff moved into the room, his eyes drawn instantly to the still figure on the bed. Blindly grabbing at a chair, Jeff dropped heavily into the seat, grabbing quickly at Alan's hand, careful not to dislodge the IV.
"Oh, Allie," he whispered, bringing the cool hand to his cheek. "I just can't seem to keep you safe. I'm sorry."
"Dad," John said gently, his hand on his father's shoulder. "None of this is your fault."
"John," Jeff said sadly, "when your baby is born, you'll realize that anything bad that happens to your child is something you feel you should be able to prevent. But before you declare me innocent think of what has happened to Alan over the last year."
John glanced over his shoulder to where Emily was in earnest discussion with the other doctors. "Dad," he whispered, "the Hood wasn't your fault."
"I chose to leave him behind, John," Jeff said fiercely.
"And if you hadn't," John hissed. "You, almost a hundred innocent slaves of the Hood and Scott would have died. He chose to head further into the tunnels to try and escape the authorities. Hell, his illegal mine was so full of safety violations, it was amazing we saved everyone else!"
"And later? Alan being hit by a car?" Jeff asked.
"How was that your fault, Dad?"
"Did you forget, John that it was what I said to Alan that made him go running that night?" Jeff said, his heart clearly breaking.
"So I guess Looney Lainie poisoning Alan is my fault, huh?" John sniped.
Jeff looked up in surprise. "How was that your fault?"
"I pissed her off," John shrugged. "Or maybe that was more Virgil's fault."
Shaking his head, Jeff disagreed. "No, John – Lainie was a deeply disturbed young woman. It was in no way your fault."
"And the Hood was a murderous creep and Barry was a drunken idiot," John said firmly.
"Fine," Jeff agreed sadly. "But a bomb in the garage of Tracy Towers?"
"Dad, people who set bombs generally don't care about innocent victims. The only ones responsible for Alan's injuries are the ones who set the bomb."
Jeff nodded, not entirely convinced. "Have you called the Island yet?"
John glanced at his watch. "I wanted to wait until Scott got home and maybe we would know something."
Patting John's arm, Jeff said, "Well, you should call. They should be home by now."
Nodding, John began to pull out his cell before Emily's voice broke in.
"Nope, Starman. No cell phones in the hospital; outside."
"Yes, m'lady, as you will, m'lady," John said, bowing slightly.
John grabbed the door, tapping the new communicator watches Brains was having them test. Jeff nodded, indicating he would contact John if anything changed.
"I'll be back as soon as the gang lets me," John said after looking over at his baby brother one more time. "Not that I'll have much to say yet."
"Just keep Scott calm," Emily said. "I can only handle one Tracy down at a time."
"Eppes?" Flint hissed as he pressed the knife against Edward's stomach. With his free hand, he snagged the cell phone from Edward's hand, scrolling through the contacts. "Kate? That wouldn't be Kate Eppes, would it? The little bitch who tried to kill me and sent me to prison?"
"Flint," Edward hissed, furious that the man who had gone after his little cousin was in front of him. In his eyes, this monster was the reason why Kate had left LA. As the two youngest Eppes, Edward and Kate had always been very close, more like brother and sister than cousins. With how over-protective the twins were (Kate usually said over-bearing) towards their sister, Edward was the one Kate would usually turn to.
Edward knew what this man – no, this monster – had done to his victims. That he had tried to do that to Kate, that he had wanted to Emily, the woman Edward still cared deeply for – Never had Edward wished that he was more like his uncle, a fighter, and less like his gentle father.
"Where is she?" Flint hissed. "Where is that bitch?"
"Screw you, you son of a bitch," Edward snapped. "Kate's safe – you aren't getting anywhere near her."
"Will little Katie come out to play if I have you?" Flint mused as he pressed the knife harder against Edward's stomach.
"You think I'll go with you?" Edward growled. "I would die before I let you get to my little cousin."
Flint dropped the doctor's phone, stomping on it and grabbing Edward's throat, raising the knife to just below his hand.
"I can arrange that."
Alan felt strangely detached. He knew he was in pain. But his head…God his head was killing him.
Man, I just want to sleep. Maybe I'll feel better when I wake up. Rest…yeah, I need some rest.
Then he heard it – the voice that had offered him comfort since he was a little boy.
"I'm here, Allie. Dad is here. I won't let anyone hurt you, Sprout. But you're scaring me. Please, Alan – wake up. Please."
Alan wanted to ignore the pain, to keep sleeping. But his Dad was hurting. He couldn't let any member of his family feel pain if he could avoid it. Alan could feel his father's hand, the pressure where Jeff Tracy still wore his wedding band, more than a decade after Lucy Tracy's death.
Somewhere in the dark well of pain Alan was still in, he forced himself to push towards his father and moved his hand…
John pulled the phone out as he exited the building, his finger ghosting above the keypad, ready to hit the memory dial for home when he saw the man holding a knife to some doctor's throat.
"Hey!" he yelled out, sprinting towards the pair.
Flint twisted away, the knife cutting into Edward's arm as he stepped back. With the bloody knife held out in front of him, he made a menacing gesture towards John. "Back off, you skinny little ass. This is none of your business."
"I'm making it my business," John snapped, stepping between the nut job and his victim. When Flint took a swipe at John, the second Tracy son quickly thrust out his hand, viciously twisting the killer's wrist until Flint cried out in pain, dropping the knife.
Seeing the FBI agent from earlier run out of the hospital, her gun drawn, Flint kicked out at John, making him step back. Once John's grip had loosened, Flint took off running.
John watched as Agent Delgado directed two NYPD officers who had followed her out of the building to pursue the suspect. Daria herself stood protectively between the men and any possible threat as John bent down to examine Edward's arm.
Edward huffed out, wincing as the blonde man pressed a handkerchief against his wound. "You a doctor," he asked.
"Nope," John said. "And I don't play one on television. But I do know basic care. So let's get you inside where a real doctor can stitch you up."
"I am a doctor," Edward said crossly.
"And physician heal yourself may sound good, but it's hard to stitch one handed."
"My badge," Edward said, still dazed even as John and Daria helped him to stand.
John glanced around. "I can't see it. Did you leave it inside?"
Edward blinked in pain and confusion. "I guess I must have."
Six blocks away, Devon Flint stopped, leaning against a wall even as he pulled out the badge he had snagged from the doctor's coat. Kate Eppes had family. She had weaknesses. If he couldn't get to her, maybe he could destroy her world, just like she had destroyed his…
Alan pushed himself closer to being awake. It hurt, God, it hurt – But he couldn't hurt his father any more than the man was hurting. His pain, his hurt was irrelevant when it came to family…
"Dad," Alan forced out of his paper dry throat.
"Alan," Jeff called out, tears clogged his throat, as he brushed his son's face gently. "Alan, please open your eyes."
Blinking slowly as he woke, Alan suddenly clutched at his father's hand. "Dad!" Alan gasped, his breathing suddenly harsh and panicky.
"Alan," Emily said as she moved over to the bed, glancing over her shoulder at the other two doctors. "Alan, sweetie – are you in any pain?"
The youngest Tracy son began to hyperventilate, even as his hands frantically grabbed at his father. He ignored his sister-in-law, turning to Jeff, tears filling his eyes.
"Dad," Alan gasped. "Dad, I can't see."
A/N - OK, how is that for a faste update? I hope you can appreciate...
Alan - Oh No, You Didn't!
CC - Alan, Alan, Alan - You know me by now. There isn't much I won't dare to do.
Alan - But I'm blind!
CC - Yep.
Alan - you aren't supposed to do things like that.
CC (scoffs) Allie, Allie - you should know by now, that there isn't a lot that I wouldn't do.
Alan - But...But...
CC - Alan, I get to let you be smothered by your family, give you moments of teen agnst without you being a brat. I mean - who could blame you?\
Alan - Oh, of course. Goodness of your heart and everything.
CC - C'mon - I made chocolate filled cupcakes for my daughter's school bake sale. Want one?
Alan - Chocolate? (CC nods) OK, sounds good. (Takes a bite) Pretty good. Say what would you feed me if I was killed?
CC - PFFT. Alan, I wouldn't feed you anything because 1) you would be dead and 2) I don't write death fics. But probably crumb cake, why?
Alan - Just checking.
CC - More soon, folks.