Left By the Wayside

by Criminally Charmed

Disclaimer - See chapter one

Yeah! So passed 350! And thanks for all the great words for my mom. She is now home and is recovering well. Scary how fast things can go south, but luckily she was in the hospital and being monitored. A very important thing.

Oh, and I get the feeling not many of you are fans of Twilight (or Twit-lite, as I prefer).

I knew I loved you guys.

Chapter Twenty-One - It's not you I'm aiming at

Shana Pierce entered the café, determined to make sure the Tracys were following orders. Alan may have been the only member of the family who was officially her patient, but she had quickly come to realize that his well-being and that of his family's were intrinsically linked.

"Well, I am glad to see you are listening to me," Shana smiled at the three Tracys.

Scott grumbled as he slumped in his chair. "We don't need to be here. We need to be with Alan."

Shaking her head, Shana almost laughed. "Alan needs you healthy. He is recovering faster and better than I could have ever hoped when we unloaded him yesterday. But he is still going to need you all healthy in order to be there for him."

Virgil smiled at the doctor. "This is an unusual spot for a café like this. What is up with that?"

Looking over her shoulder, Shana had a small grin looking at Maddie.

"You can blame Maddie," she shrugged. "This place was, twenty years ago, a small coffee shop run by the volunteers. Then the hospital sold the space to Dunkin Donuts, saying it made more sense to have a franchise here than the medical center being responsible. It may have been financial good sense, but between high turnover of the fast food industry and the corporate attitude, it wasn't a place most of us liked coming."

"Then, three years ago, Maddie retired from nursing. Her husband of forty years, Derek, had terminal cancer. After he passed six months later, Maddie discovered his insurance policy and the trust account."

"Trust account?" Jeff asked, curious.

Nodding sadly, Shana watched as the older woman bustled around, fussing over patrons. "Her only daughter, Evie, died in a fire when her choir was at a school competition. Three kids died and a dozen more were seriously injured. It turned out to be a case of fraud with bad parts used for the sprinkler system. The wrongful death lawsuit awarded the families eleven million dollars. As I understand it, each family still had, after the lawyers, around two million each. Derek and Maddie thought it was blood money and she always thought he gave it all away. Turned out he only gave half of it away. Derek put almost a million dollars in a trust for Maddie. By the time he was gone, it had almost tripled."

"The franchise was having trouble here and Maddie bought the space from the hospital and proceeded to turn it into this café. She wanted a place where people could relax and sit that didn't seem rushed or too hospital like."

"It wouldn't take all that money, would it?" Virgil asked, not sure how much opening a place like this would cost.

"No," Shana explained. "But the rest is in an operating fund for here so it can keep running for years. And Maddie is in heaven fussing over the people who come here. The staff encourages family members to come down here, especially if their loved one is in for anything serious. Again, we recognize that the families need to take care of themselves if they are going to take care of their loved one."

Just as Shana finished, Maddie bustled up, rolling over a small cart. After the rolls were placed in the middle of the table, the former nurse proceeded to set down four delectable looking steak ceaser salads and four glasses of ice tea.

Before the Tracys could say anything, Maddie turned to Jeff and said, "Shana can join you, right? If left to her, she would grab a sandwich between patients. But some young lady needs to remember she is now a nursing mother as well as a doctor."

Rolling her eyes, Shana grumbled, "Did you give Mom this hard a time?"

"Yep," Maddie grinned cheerfully as she pushed Shana into a chair. "Now eat, baby."

Stabbing at a piece of lettuce, the doctor looked over at the amused family after the former nurse had left. "Maddie worked with my mom for years. She sometimes forgets I am an adult."

Before the Tracys could answer, it became obvious Maddie had heard Shana when she called out – "Then act like it and eat."

As the foursome began to eat their salads, Virgil began to speak. "So your mother was – what? – a pediatrician?"

"Pediatric oncology," Shana said between bites. "Challenging, but not for everyone."

"Neither would emergency medicine be," Jeff pointed out. "But you seem to enjoy it."

Nodding, Shana concurred. "A good level one trauma team can make all the difference in certain cases. Alan is a perfect example. If BMC wasn't here, Alan's level of injures would have required being either sent to Boston or stabilized locally and transferred to Boston. I don't know if he would have survived either of those situations."

For a few minutes the main sound at the table was that of forks hitting the plates in order to devour the excellent meal. Again, it was Virgil taking the lead.

"So, you said your son was how old, Dr. Pierce?"

Shana smiled. "Please, just Shana. And actually, its sons." Pulling out her I-Phone, she pressed a button before handing it to Virgil. "My twins, Jensen and Jared, will be four months next week."

Peaking at the picture, Jeff nodded. "Cute boys. I can see a lot of you in them."

Shrugging, Shana took the phone back and answered, "Well, they may have been a bit small for being a few weeks early, which is not uncommon for multiples, but the way they are growing, they are showing promise of being their dad's size, not mine."

For the next few minutes stories of babies were exchanged between Jeff and Shana. Virgil listened in amusement while Scott tried to tune them out. He wasn't sure if his father was once again trying to make subtle hints, but Scott wasn't buying it if he was.

Just as everyone at the table was finishing, an overhead page caused them all to freeze.

Code blue, ACCU, room seven. Code blue, ACCU, room seven. Dr. Pierce to ACCU, STAT. Dr. Pierce, to ACCU, STAT.

Jeff gasped even as he tossed money on the table for lunch. Shana had already stood up, calling to Maddie that she would "catch her later". The former nurse waved her on, used to the younger woman often having to fly out of the café. As the doctor ran from the room, the Tracys rushed to catch up with her.

Alan was in ACCU, room seven.

Paul joked and teased Alan, happy to see that the younger boy was doing his best to put what had happened behind them.

Linda walked in on the pair, smiling when she saw how relaxed they both were. "Sorry to interrupt, boys, but Paul needs to have a couple of tests before the neurologist comes to see him."

"A neurologist?" Alan asked with concern. "I thought you said you were alright, Paul?"

Paul smiled. "I am, or at least, I will be. But I've been being checked over by neurologist since I was a kid. It's not uncommon after a seizure." Seeing Alan still looked concerned, the eighteen year old tried to lighten the conversation.

"Have you seen the neurologist here?" When Alan shook his head to indicate he hadn't Paul chuckled, "You get a doc who looks like she belongs on Beverly Hills, 90210. Mine looks like he belongs on Beverly Hillbillies."

"When did you see Dr. Pierce?" Linda asked as she began to pull back on his wheelchair.

"She was talking to Dr. Gillespie when my cat scan was being finished," he explained. Grinning at Alan as they headed to the door, Paul continued. "You get lucky, Tracy. I get Uncle Jed and you get the hot chick from the beach."

All of the room's occupants gave a small chuckle that was abruptly cut off when the door snapped open. Dr. Ginny Krutz entered with a frown on her face.

"Nurse Bailey," she sniped.

"Dr. Krutz," Linda responded, not in the least bit intimidated.

"The instructions on this patient are no unauthorized visitors," Dr. Krutz said coolly.

"But I wanted to see Paul," Alan began.

Ignoring Alan, the doctor continued. "Under whose authority was this person allowed in this room?"

"Um, hello?" Alan smarted off. "I'm right here. I'm a big boy. I feed myself, dress myself and haven't needed anyone to wipe my butt in years. If I want to see one of my schoolmates, I certainly can."

"Teenagers," Krutz grumbled as she approached the bed. Glaring at Alan, she snapped, "You are not an adult and can not make certain decisions. Apparently, the powers that be are afraid of your father and want to make sure the undesirables are kept at a respectful distance."

"Undesirables?" Alan asked, incredulous. "More like reporters. I can't really think of any other undesirables that my father would want to protect me from."

"I can," Linda muttered, glaring at the pediatrician.

Dr. Krutz ignored the comment – to a certain degree – more annoyed when Alan and Paul both let out a childish giggle at the nurse's remark. Pulling out a syringe, she injected it into Alan's IV port.

"What's that?" Alan inquired.

"Your white blood cell count shows the signs of a beginning of an infection. I guess someone must have missed something in your treatment -"

Linda cut her off. "Post op infections are not uncommon. And some of the problem was how long Alan was left untreated and exposed to the elements."

"Whatever," Dr. Krutz muttered. "But you needed a shot of antibiotics and now you have one." Noting the chart, she set it down and swept out of the room.

"Wow," Alan breathed. "What an, um, interesting person."

"Great bedside manners, too," Paul joked as Linda reopened the door.

Smiling, Linda nodded. "But she makes a great witch at the Halloween party we have for the kids every year."

Seeing the door to Alan's room open, John and Gordon started heading back down the hallway. They were brought up short by a female doctor they didn't recognize.

"Excuse me," she growled as she pushed the brothers out of her way.

"When I think of one I will," Gordon snapped at her retreating back. Stepping back, he let Linda wheel Paul out of the room.

"So," Gordon asked, "are you two good?"

Paul gave a small smile. "We're getting there. I'm just glad Alan listened to me. But, um -" The older teen looked at the closed door, reluctant to give away Alan's confidence in him.

"What?" John grumbled. "Just speak up."

"You haven't talked to Alan much about his condition, have you?" Paul asked.

"What did you tell him?" John snarled.

Gordon looked at John in surprise. "Hey, Johnny – no need to be channeling Scott."

"I didn't tell Alan anything like that," Paul hurriedly explained. "But he is worried about, well, about his legs."

The brothers exchanged glances before bolting into Alan's room.

Paul sighed before giving a half smile to Linda. "OK…on to the torture tests."

Shaking her head, Linda headed the wheelchair to the elevator banks. "It's lab work and radiology."

"Same thing," Paul said cheerfully as the elevator doors slid open.

"Hey, Al," John said gently as they approached his bed. "Have a good talk with, um, him."

"His name is Paul," Alan admonished. "And if you are asking if he explained his part in my getting hurt, then yes, yes he did. But before you start going all Scott on me, let me tell you a few things. You went to high school in the same town, heck the same school, dad did. Not to mention, you had an older brother and a younger brother there. No, you didn't run in their circles. Scott was with the jocks and Virg was the arts crowd. What were you?"

John gave a small smile. "C'mon, Al – you know. I was with the geek squad."

"Well, there is no geek squad at Wharton's," Alan explained. "Yes, there are some very bright students there, Fermat included. But there are only a handful of scholarship students, most of them athletic scholarships. And everyone knows who they are. Most of the academic scholarship students are lucky to last a year. They are slighted and cut out of most of the social circles at Wharton's. Your classmates tend to have parents out of the social register, the front pages or Forbes."

"Paul's father is a first generation Chinese immigrant. He started a small organic food store by selling vegetables at Farmer's markets for four years. Some of Paul's earliest memories are bagging up vegetables and herbs. That was when Paul's math skills were first seen. He would add up prices in his head at five. If his parents had had dad's resources, he probably would be getting ready to finish college, not start it. So the scholarship offer to Wharton's was a dream come true and set him up to be in a place where schools like Cal-Sci recruit from."

Shrugging, Alan moved restlessly as his chest started to itch. "But it wasn't easy for him at Wharton's. A lot of kids give up or become bitter. Paul instead organized study groups, helped jocks – especially scholarship students – keep their eligibility, and even got Wharton's to start a tutoring program at the Y. Some of the more privileged kids are seeing how good they have it and maybe a few will become better people because of it."

Scratching at his hands, Alan felt a kind of heaviness in his chest as he continued. "He is a good person. Doesn't Dad always teach us to give people a second chance? If I deserved one, why doesn't Paul?"

"Al," Gordon remarked, "why would you need a second chance?"

His breathing was becoming more of a struggle as Alan explained. "I know I wasn't much to brag about before. But I have tried to be better for the family. I tried so hard."

Brushing at his brother's hair, John smiled at Alan. "Hey Sprout – don't think like that. We always loved you. Yes, we are proud of how hard you are trying. But never doubt how much we love you."

"No," Alan said sadly. "You just didn't need me."

"Of course we did," John argued. "We just wanted you to be safe and to experience a normal high school life. You know – studies, friends, athletics."

"Yeah, athletics. Johnny, am I…Well, will I -"

Alan's voice trailed off, having become more ragged. John and Gordon assumed it was from him becoming upset.

Gordon sat down on the bed and took Alan's hand. "Paul said you were worried about your legs. I'm gonna be honest with you. The doctors just don't know yet. There is a lot of swelling. They can't see any fractures, but hairline fractures just aren't as visible with swelling. So between the swelling and the medication, well, you could get feeling back in your legs soon."

"Or I could be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life," Alan gasped sadly.

"Al," Gordon began only to become concerned as Alan started having more trouble breathing. Flashes of when Alan ate the walnuts a few months earlier poured into his mind.

Struggling to breath, Alan looked at his older brothers, desperation and fear clearly on his face. He barely felt anything as John climbed next to him on the bed, pulling him upright and resting his torso against John's chest. Alan never saw Gordon press desperately at the nurse clock button before running to the door. Somewhere at the edge of his mind he heard his next oldest brother call from the door for help. The last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him was a page overhead –

Code blue, ACCU, room seven. Code blue, ACCU, room seven. Dr. Pierce to ACCU, STAT. Dr. Pierce, to ACCU, STAT.

A/N - CC is officially in hiding.