A/N: Thanks for all the good wishes for my mom. She is home now and doing much better!
Over the Edge
-12-
If the sheets and blankets hadn't been tucked so tightly around him, Daniel would have probably hit the floor when he launched himself upright.
"Easy!" Adam pushed him back down against the pillows. "Take it easy. You just woke up."
Daniel barely heard him. He gripped his older brother hard by the wrist. "What happened? What am I doing in the hospital?"
"You passed out down in the ER waiting room," Adam said quietly. He managed a smile. "Scared us pretty bad. But the doctor says you're going to be fine."
Daniel stared at him. "I passed out?" he repeated. "Why was I even…" He gasped as he remembered why he was at the hospital in the first place. He tightened his grip on Adam. "Ford? Evan?" Then he sucked in a painful breath as guilt crashed over him. "Oh my God," he whimpered. He met Adam's eyes. "Guthrie…" he all but whispered. "I left him out there. Alone."
Adam tightened his grip on Daniel's hand. "You didn't know he'd wander off," he said.
Daniel yanked his hand away and crossed his arms across his chest. "What the hell difference does that make? He was my responsibility and I – I should have checked on him -"
"Daniel, that's enough." Adam's voice was firm. "You did everything you could and more and wound up passed out in this bed because of it."
Daniel shook his head. "I should have – I don't know. I should have checked on him."
Adam sighed. He looked exhausted. Well, of course he is, Daniel thought bitterly. He's been up for –
"What time is it?" he asked.
Adam looked at him, obviously wanting to say something more. Instead he sighed again and peered at his wristwatch. "Almost seven. You've been out a couple hours."
Fear raced through Daniel's veins. He didn't even notice the increased noise from the heart monitor that he had found so irritating minutes before. Hours. Anything could have happened.
Adam seemed to read his mind. Hell, maybe he was. "Ford and Evan are both in surgery," he said quietly. "Hannah's down there in the waiting room. Crane and Brian went back to look for Guthrie."
Daniel swallowed hard. Unwanted tears sprang to his eyes. "How… bad off are they?" He vaguely remembered a doctor saying something but it was all fuzzy, overwhelmed by the horrifying truth that he'd left his injured baby brother all alone in the night.
Adam looked down. "Bad enough," he said gruffly. He looked up to meet Daniel's eyes. "But it would have been a lot worse if you hadn't been there. If you hadn't found them."
Daniel shook his head. "Guthrie's the hero," he said quietly. "He climbed all the way up to the road to get help. I don't know how he did it. His ankle was all swollen and he hurt his head, too." His thoughts flashed back to the terrifying moment when his youngest brother had appeared in the Jeep's high beams.
"He hurt his ankle?" Adam asked sharply.
"Yeah. I think in the crash. And – " he had to force the next words out. "He hurt his head, too. But he was talking and everything. I didn't think it was that bad."
"Was Ford ever awake?" Adam asked
"Evan was out at first but he woke up after I got there. Not Ford though." Daniel took a deep breath. "Ford was… he'd been thrown from the car. He… he never woke up."
Adam sighed heavily. His face looked old and tired in the harsh lights. "Hopefully Guthrie didn't wander too far away."
"But why did he leave the Jeep?" Daniel demanded to know. "Adam, I told him to stay put!"
"I don't know," Adam admitted. "But it's not your fault, Daniel. None of this is your fault. I shouldn't have let them go with Ty. It's not like we know him that well." He seemed to realize what he'd said and winced. "Knew him, I guess."
"He's dead." Daniel wiped at his eyes. "He seemed like a good kid, I know Evan really liked him. But Evan said he was drinking at the Blue Boy."
Adam's head shot up. His eyes were hard. "He was drinking?"
Daniel bit his lip. He hadn't meant to spill that to Adam, although he vaguely seemed to remember that he'd told someone already. Oh, well, if he hadn't it was too late now. "Evan said Ty had some beers. And maybe smoked a joint."
Adam's eyes blazed. "Was Evan drinking? Was Ford?"
"Ford doesn't drink," Daniel protested. He thought about it for a second and then shook his head. "No, Evan didn't have any beer."
"How do you know?" Adam snapped. "I told Brian we should never have let you guys start drinking beer at fourteen!"
Daniel grabbed his arm. "That's how I know. Evan wouldn't drink in a public place. Not with Guthrie around. Think about it, Adam, you know that."
Adam stared at the wall, muscles working in his jaw. Then his shoulders relaxed and he let out his pent-up breath in a sigh. "No, he wouldn't. You're right. I do know that. But why would he let Ty drive if he knew –"
The door flung open and Hannah stepped in. Her eyes were huge in her pale face. She didn't even seem to see Daniel, all her attention on her husband. "Adam," she faltered. "Evan's out of surgery. The… the surgeon needs to talk with you."
7Bf7B
Crane's boot slipped and he caught himself against a boulder so huge it looked as if it had been there since the beginning of time. He rubbed the back of his hand across his damp forehead. Rain or sweat… maybe both.
He looked around, catching his breath. Pale sunlight struggled to eke through pewter leaden skies. The temperature was hovering just above freezing, meaning that icy rain pelted them, not plain ice. Still the rocks were slippery under his feet and cold wetness dripped down the back of his neck. He turned around until he spotted Brian.
They'd split up, Crane going north from the accident site and Brian going south. They kept their search only about a third of the way up, hoping that Guthrie, injured and alone in the darkness, wouldn't have climbed very far up the rocks.
Tom Barrett thought they were foolish and said so, loudly. His searchers were below the road, in the heavily wooded areas, under the assumption that Guthrie had tried to find his way back to the wreck, and had either fallen or passed out. "No hurt child would try to climb those rocks at night! And crawl into one of those caves? No way!" he'd proclaimed.
There was a part of Crane that could agree with that. But, even if Crane and Brian were searching in the wrong area, there were plenty of people looking where Tom thought Guthrie was. Crane would stick with Brian's theory. After all, he and Crane were Guthrie's brothers. Tom wasn't. That had to count for something. And you couldn't deny that McFadden boys seemed drawn to caves.
Not that some of these were traditional caves. Some of them were just small slits in the rock. Small. But big enough for a twelve year old to take refuge.
Crane took a deep breath and kept looking.
He almost missed the next cave, would have missed it if something, a faint flash of sunlight on mica, maybe, hadn't caught his eye. The opening was almost hidden, partially blocked by another immense boulder. Crane had to turn sidewise and hold his breath to ease into the aperture.
This cave seemed to be larger than some of the others and two steps from the opening Crane couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He fumbled for the flashlight hooked on his belt and shone it around the inky blackness. One pass of the light, two… and then the light caught something.
"Guthrie?" he whispered, moving forward slowly. "Guthrie!" Louder now, his voice echoing crazily in the cave. He dropped to his knees beside the still form. He put the flashlight on the ground, yanked off his glove and touched his brother.
Guthrie's skin was so cold, frozen to the touch. He didn't move. His eyes were closed, his arms crossed in front of him, body curled into a fetal position. Crane's heart was pounding hard in his chest as he realized Guthrie didn't have a coat or even a sweater, just a thin cotton T-shirt and jeans. If he was alive… if he was still alive… Trembling, Crane searched frantically for the pulse at Guthrie's throat. For a panicked minute, he couldn't feel one and he couldn't breathe. Finally he felt it, one faint beat, then another, throbbing against his fingers.
"Thank you, God," he breathed, pulling off his jacket and wrapping his little brother in it.
The jacket wasn't going to be enough. He had to get Guthrie out of this cave, get to help. But he realized there was no way he'd be able to get out the tiny opening into the cave carrying Guthrie. He needed help. He needed Brian.
"I'll be right back, Guthrie," Crane said, even though he knew Guthrie couldn't hear him.
Hesitating for just a second, Crane scrambled to his feet. He struggled out of the opening. For a second he was stuck and he panicked, but then was free and yelling and waving for Brian. He could barely see Brian's tiny figure in the distance, but his brother turned and saw him. Crane let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and slumped against the rock as Brian started running.
He had found his little brother. Now they just had to get him to the hospital. "Hang on, Guthrie," he whispered. "Just hang on."
7Bf7B
Daniel had thought Adam was pale before, but now all the blood literally seemed to drain from his face. Adam rocked back a few steps, and Daniel feared his brother was going to pass out just as Daniel had in the ER. He reached an arm out to touch him, but Adam just shook his head and started for the door.
"Adam, wait!" Daniel protested. "I want to go with you!"
Adam didn't seem to hear him, just bolting through the door, leaving Hannah standing there with her mouth open as if he didn't even see her. Daniel shoved the blankets back and started to scramble out of the bed. The IV tangled in his arm and without thinking, he yanked the needle out. Blood burbled up from the hole.
"Daniel, don't do that!" Hannah came quickly to his side, grabbing him as his knees started to collapse.
Daniel lost his balance and fell back toward the bed; the rolling table next to it slid away and overturned. Hannah tried to push him back to bed but Daniel managed to get his feet under him. He swallowed hard, feeling nauseas, and tried to shake the dizziness away. "Whoa!" he said, confused and unnerved that his body was betraying him this way. "Did they drug me, or what?"
"They gave you a sedative. And your blood sugar is probably low," Hannah said. "Just lie back in the bed."
Daniel held onto Hannah, partly to keep her from sliding him back into the bed, partly to keep from ending up on the floor himself. "Hannah, no. We've got to go with him!" Daniel's thoughts were chaotic with fear and worry about Evan but he knew one thing for sure. No matter what the doctors were going to say, Adam needed them to be with him.
And Daniel needed to be there. He had to hear the news too.
He took another step and almost hit the floor. "Daniel, you can't. Please!" Hannah pleaded with him.
Daniel locked his knees. "Hannah, we've got to go. I've got to know what's going on. And Adam needs you. He needs both of us!"
Hannah stared at him, her eyes huge in her face. Finally she nodded. "I'll get your clothes."
"No time for that." Daniel took a careful step. He grabbed the door handle and then managed to force a smile for his sister in law. "Think you could… maybe, find me a wheelchair?"
7Bf7B
The rain was coming down harder now, cold pelting missiles stinging his cheeks. Brian blinked against the water and strained to spot Crane in the distance. It took a few seconds for him to realize he couldn't see his brother. Crane must have stepped into one of the larger caves.
Brian's hands were hurting from the cold and he stuck them into the pockets of the rain slicker he'd donned at Tom Barrett's insistence. He wore his down jacket underneath it but he was still cold.
He wished he'd put on his thermal underwear before leaving the house.
He wished he'd argued against Evan, Ford and Guthrie ever leaving last night.
He wished he knew how Evan and Ford were.
And he wished he could find Guthrie.
He stepped down and his boot slipped on the wet rocks. Before he could catch himself, he slipped and came down hard on his knee. His bad one, of course. Fiery pain jolted him, robbing him of breath. He fell forward, catching his weight on his hands. "Shit!" he yelled.
I don't have time for this!
Sucking in his breath he pulled himself to his feet and staggered for a minute, clenching his teeth against the stabbing pain. Damn that knee. Dr. Meade had been hounding him for years to have surgery and Brian kept putting it off. It was never a good time.
Now was not a good time.
What…
He squinted his eyes. Was that Crane? What was he doing?
Blinking rain and sweat from his eyes, he peered into the gloom. Was Crane…?
He was! Crane was waving his arms, trying to get Brian's attention. He motioned for Brian to come to him.
Adrenaline shot through Brian, pushing the pain aside. There was only one reason Crane would be summoning him. Only one.
Guthrie. Crane had found him.
7Bf7B
Daniel's nurse protested, but neither Daniel nor Hannah paid any attention to her. The nurse sighed and then produced a wheelchair and helped Daniel into it. She shook her head when she saw Daniel had removed his IV, but just held a cotton ball to the wound until the bleeding stopped and then taped a Snoopy Band-Aid on it. She tucked a blanket around him and then stepped aside, nodding to Hannah that they could leave. "You're not discharged," she told Daniel. "But I'll tell Dr. Turner where you are when she gets here."
Daniel didn't care. He didn't think Hannah did either. She rapidly pushed him to the elevators and then, when they reached the correct floor, pushed him into a huge waiting room.
Adam wasn't there.
Daniel took a breath but before he could say anything another nurse was approaching. "Mrs. McFadden? Your husband is waiting for Dr. Connor in one of the consulting rooms. Here, I'll take you to him."
"Thank you," Hannah murmured.
The consulting room turned out to be a tiny closet like room with three chairs and a small table covered with old magazines. Daniel's wheel chair barely squeezed in. Adam was in there, face sheet-white and jaw clenched. He opened his arms when he saw his wife and Hannah went into them, wrapping her arms around him and sitting on his knee. Daniel heard him whisper, "He's just got to be all right. I can't… I can't…" his voice trailed off and Daniel saw him shudder.
Daniel bit his lip. He wanted to comfort his older brother but he didn't know how.
I wish Crane was here. Or Brian. They'd know what to do.
He remembered something, then, a fragment of a memory buried deep in the past.
It was late at night. Daniel had been asleep but something woke him up. He raised up in bed, listening. Crane slumbered in the bed on the other side of the room. He obviously hadn't heard anything.
Daniel strained to hear. The door was half open and could see lights were on downstairs. Holding his breath, he eased out of bed and over to the door. There! He heard it again. Someone was crying.
Worried now, Daniel tiptoed out into the landing. Maybe Ford or Evan was crying in their sleep. But no, it wasn't coming from their room. He gripped the railing and looked downstairs.
Adam was sitting on one of the sofas. He had baby Guthrie on his lap. Daniel was relieved. Of course, it was Guthrie he'd heard crying. Right after the funeral – Daniel's mind shied away from that thought – Guthrie had woken up crying night after night. But then he hadn't been the only one crying in those dark days and it had tapered off eventually. Reassured that Adam had it all under control, Daniel started back to bed. But something made him look back.
And he saw Adam's shoulders shaking. He held Guthrie tightly and threw his head back, leaning against the back of the sofa. Daniel sucked in a shocked breath as he saw tears spilling down his older brother's face.
Daniel was scared. He didn't know what to do. Adam was the strong one. He was supposed to be the strong one, the caretaker. He had held them all together during those horrible weeks after the funeral, holding them as they cried. And he never, ever seemed to cry himself. Sometimes it made Daniel angry that Adam didn't cry. Didn't he miss Mama and Dad? Didn't he care?
Daniel shivered. His eight year old mind was confused, lost. Adam had told him that Daniel could always come to him. That there was nothing wrong with crying. But here was Adam crying all alone. Well, alone except for a sleeping Guthrie.
He didn't know how long he stood there, shocked, scared, helpless. But then he heard another noise and saw the door at the top of the stairs open. Brian staggered out, rubbing his eyes. He looked down and saw Adam, then looked over to Daniel.
Shaking his head and putting a finger to his lips, he walked over and wrapped his arm around Daniel's shoulders. "Come on," he whispered. "Let's get you back to bed. School tomorrow."
Daniel resisted, looking back at his sobbing older brother. "We have to… Adam needs help."
Brian sighed, pushing Daniel gently back into his bedroom and pulling the door almost closed, leaving just enough light seeping in to find the bed. He pulled back the covers and lifted Daniel back into bed.
"Brian!" Daniel protested.
Across the room, Crane startled and sat up. "What—what's going on? Danny, are you okay?"
"Brian! We have to help Adam!" Daniel was insistent.
"What's wrong with Adam?" Crane wanted to know, stifling a yawn.
Brian sighed. "Daniel saw Adam downstairs. He's crying."
There was a silence, and then Crane crawled out of his bed and came over to Daniel's. "Danny, just go back to sleep, okay? Adam will be all right."
Daniel didn't understand this. Adam was down there crying, all alone, and neither Brian nor Crane was doing anything about it! "But you have to help him! We have to do something!"
It would be years before he recognized the look his two older brothers shared.
"He doesn't want us to know," Brian had said finally. "You can't help someone who won't let you help."
Much later, Daniel realized Brian and Crane, too, knew about Adam's solitary crying sessions. Knew and couldn't do anything to help.
Now, Daniel looked over at his oldest brother clinging to his wife and realized Adam finally had someone to help him in his grief and fear. Someone he would let help him.
Before he could think of anything to say, the door opened and a tall man with very white hair, wearing a white coat over sweat-stained surgical scrubs, stepped in. "Mr. and Mrs. McFadden?" He extended his hand to shake Adam's and the Hannah's and nodded at Daniel. "I'm Dr. Connor. Liam Connor. I operated on your… he looked down at the chart he was holding and then back up. "—Brother? Evan?"
"How is he?" Adam said. Daniel didn't even recognize his voice.
The doctor sat down in the only other chair and opened the chart. "He came through the surgery fine. His vitals are strong. We're going to have him in ICU for a day or two before moving him into a regular room. We had to remove his spleen to stop the bleeding." He held up a hand. "I know, that sounds frightening but he can live perfectly well without it." Then he sighed. "He has a fractured pelvis. There are no breaks in his legs, which, from what I gathered from the accident report, is an absolute miracle. But there is some damage to his spine."
Daniel couldn't breathe.
The doctor went on, talking about vertebral injuries and swelling and further testing. "I don't want to alarm you. Evan's chances of getting some movement back in his legs are good—"
"Some movement?" Adam asked. Daniel had never seen his brother look so terrified.
Dr. Connor nodded. "I'm sorry. There is a lot of swelling around the spine. It's putting pressure on the nerves and right now… right now he can't move his legs."
Daniel gasped into the shattered silence. Oh God no. Please, no. Not Evan!
Just then the door opened again and the nurse that had shown them into the room earlier stuck her head in. "Dr. Connor, please, I'm sorry but we just got a call from the rescue unit." She looked at the McFaddens. "They've found your younger brother. An ambulance is bringing him in now."
To be continued…
