Chapter 37

I Mustache You a Question

Link and Ed could only watch as the paramedics loaded Gordon into the ambulance and drove off. Link wondered if this was how Ed felt when he was carried off to the hospital on a stretcher, with red and blue lights for wings. Bullock was on the phone, shouting at someone. Bullock decided to stay behind with Ed and Link. Barbara had already been contacted.

Ed waited for Bullock to turn the other way before he grabbed Link and dragged him back to his car, intent on going to the hospital.

"Hold it!" Bullock ran after them, "Look I have to call you back," he clumsily picketed his phone. "Now where do you think you're going?"

"To the hospital," Ed snapped.

"What the hell happened to your arm?"

"It fell off, it's no big deal, don't worry about it, Link's gonna help me drive. He's done it before."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Bullock grabbed Ed by the back of his shirt. "What do you mean 'it fell off'! How does that even happen?"

"It wasn't docked properly," Ed explained.

"Docked?"

"It was a prosthetic."

"Oh," Bullock frowned, rubbing his beard in shock. "Huh. And what about the new hairdo?"

"It was getting long. Now, if you don't mind," Ed practically shoved Bullock off him and tried to get into the drivers seat.

"No! No, you don't," Bullock shoved the door closed. "You're staying right here, buster."

"You wanna try and make me?" Ed snarled.

"What are you off in a rush, anyway? Thought you didn't like him?"

"What do you know!" Ed shouted. "What, just 'cause I'm an ass doesn't mean I don't like people!"

"Hey, jeez, don't bite my head off," Bullock snapped.

Link tugged on Bullock's sleeve.

"Hey, what's up, kiddo," Bullock patted him on the head. Ed calmed down, but only a little.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Link asked.

"Yeah, Jim's gonna be fine," Bullock sounded confident. "Don't you worry. He's the toughest guy I know. Now, come on, back inside."

"What for?" Ed bristled. "We're going to the hospital."

"No, you're going inside," Bullock hissed. "Where you're going to eat dinner and go to bed. You can go to the hospital tomorrow during visiting hours."

"Link, get in the car," Ed growled.

When Link moved, Bullock grabbed Link by the upper arm.

"Link," Bullock hissed. The meaning was clear.

"Let him go," Ed snarled.

"Get inside," Bullock pointed to the house.

"He could be dying!" Ed screamed.

"The world is ending," Bullock snarled. "The last thing he would want is you two in the middle of it all. He would want you safe, in the house, out of danger, out of trouble."

"You don't…"

"And before you question me on how I know that, I've known Jim for thirty years. I'm his partner, for pete's sake."

"You may know him," Ed snarled, glaring at Bullock with all the fury he had. "But you sure as hell don't know us. I'm not backing down and there's nothing you can do about it."

Bullock glared back, but it would take at least thirty of him to match Ed's burning conviction. He clenched his jaw and caved, "Alright, fine."

Ed immediately went for the door handle.

"Wait! I'm driving," Bullock stopped him. "Get in the car," he nodded his head towards his old beat-up Ford.

Ed frowned angrily, but he wouldn't argue. He wasn't used to driving with one hand anyway. He and Link got into the back of the car and Bullock got into the driver's seat.

"Hey, doesn't he need a car seat or something?" Bullock asked, glancing at them through the rearview mirror.

"He's eleven," Ed grunted.

"Yeah, but is he over four nine? How tall are you, kiddo?"

Link shrugged and mumbled a quick, "I dunno." He looked down at his knees and fidget.

"He doesn't need a car seat," Ed insisted.

"How tall is he?"

"Four four," Link mumbled.

"There, see? He needs a booster seat, at least," Bullock snapped.

"He doesn't have one."

"What? Jim never got a car seat?"

"He's eleven, he doesn't need one."

"Still think he needs a booster seat," Bullock grumbled, but he knew he'd lost yet another argument. "How the hell does he put up with these brats?" Bullock grumbled. He was trying to say it under his breath so they wouldn't hear him, but he wasn't very good at it.

He pulled away from the house and headed for Gotham General.

Gotham General was packed. A lot of people there were fleeing the monsters and congregated in the front lobby in groups, families mostly, but there were groups of homeless people and the occasional herd of stray teenagers. There were volunteers handing out shock blankets and warm soup to the ones handling it the hardest.

There were so many patients that the ones who could stand weren't even given beds, they were simply bandaged and left to wander. The ones who couldn't, were in beds that overcrowded rooms and overflowed into the hallways. Almost the entire hospital staff was on duty and had been since the beginning, over eighty hours ago. The nurses and doctors looked like zombies.

Bullock had been here so many times, that despite the confusion, he knew exactly who to talk to to find out where in the hospital Gordon was being taken. The receptionist they talked to mistook Ed for the patient and tiredly directed them to the Rehab Center for the Prostheses Department. When Bullock explained the situation and flashed his badge, she apologized and told them how to get to the Cardio Surgery Center. Bullock had to prove he was one of Gordon's emergency contacts and that Ed and Link were his family, first.

Ed led the way, if only so that he wouldn't have to follow, and Bullock only followed behind him because he could barely keep up with Ed's rushed pace. Link, with such short legs, had to jog just to keep up with them. He tried not to pay attention to where they were or all the pain and suffering around them. He dedicated all of his focus to keeping up with Ed.

When they got there, they were directed to a small waiting room. There was a small toy in the corner. It was one of those toys with long, twisting, brightly painted wire tracks with six to ten wooden beads each. Link sat in the chair next to it and occupied himself by leaning over the edge and moving the beads along the tracks. Ed paced the room, scratching at his head, unused to how cold his scalp was without hair.

About an hour in, Bullock got a call and had to go back to the precinct. With the Commissioner out of commission, Bullock had to take over as acting commissioner. Link didn't want him to go, but his mouth stopped working when he tried to ask him to stay and he ended up not saying anything at all. He could barely pull himself away from the toy.

Cardio Surgery sounded serious and scary. No one stopped to explain to Link what was going on yet. All anyone had said was that Gordon would be fine and not to worry. Despite the reassurances, He felt like it was his fault.

Barbara never showed up. Ed called her, but it rang to voicemail. He then received a text saying that she was really busy with work. It made Ed wonder what exactly she did that was in such demand that she couldn't even answer her phone. Especially at a time like this.

Gordon was in surgery for four hours, significantly less than Link, but his ailment was more common and much less severe, if no less life threatening. The nurse praised them for acting so cool in a crisis, but Ed knew that if Gordon wasn't a cop, he'd probably be dead. The only reason they got an ambulance in a time like this was because they could skip over all the emergency lines, which were busy, and go straight to the Chief of Police himself. 911 was so backed up it had a two hour hold period before you even got to a person.

And if Link had a dime for every time someone commended him for his calmness when in reality he was so far down the terror scale he'd looped back to calm, he'd be able to put himself and ten other people through college.

After the surgery was over, Ed and Link were directed to a room where Gordon was recovering from the surgery. There was only one other patient in the room and there was no overflow, that was mostly in the ER.

Gordon wasn't awake yet and he didn't look much better than before, but he was alive. Ed, who had gotten used to being a visitor in a hospital, grabbed a chair and sat down next to the bed, propping his feet up on the bedside table. Link didn't know what to do. After a few minutes of being frozen where he stood, listening to the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, he curled up on the bench against the wall, hugging an extra pillow to his chest and burying his face into it.

Link was on the verge of tears when Gordon finally stirred, two hours later.

"Edward? Link?" Gordon mumbled, blinking his eyes and wetting his dry mouth.

Ed handed him his glasses, which were on the bedside table next to his feet, a habit he picked up when waking Link up in the morning for school.

Link began to cry, quietly and into the pillow, but he was hiccuping, also repressed, more out of habit than anything else.

"Boys," Gordon let out a sigh of relief. "What happened?"

"You had a heart attack," Ed said, his voice quite, afraid that if he spoke in his usual abrasive manner, it would stress Gordon into a second heart attack.

"I gathered that," Gordon said. "I meant with you two, running off to Canada in the dead of night."

"Well, you certainly don't beat around the bush," Ed sighed. "You almost died, old man."

"And how many times have you almost died in the last twenty four hours?" Gordon snapped.

Ed balked.

"Answer me, Edward."

"I… I don't know," Ed swallowed nervously. "I lost track."

"Get out," Gordon snarled, looking up at the ceiling.

"W… what?" Ed flinched.

"You heard me," Gordon hissed. "I'm tired of repeating myself."

"But…"

"Now, Edward."

Ed clenched his jaw, seriously considering throwing a fit, but at this point, it'd do more harm than good. On his way out, he grabbed Link, who was still hiccuping, only harder now. It took all of Ed's strength not to slam the door on the way out. He couldn't bring himself to leave the hallway and instead collapsed against the wall opposite of the door. Link sat down next to him.

"He doesn't… doesn't want us," Link sobbed. "Ed, he doesn't want us."

All Ed could do was cry.

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