This chapter's for anyone else whose holiday plans might've been cancelled/postponed or thwarted like mine were. Or in case you'd like something to read while you're travelling. Or just need a distraction from all the holiday stuff. My way of saying thanks for all those who are still enjoying what I write (in spite of the slow updates) and a special thanks to those who stop by and let me know it! And of course, GDA, for taking the time to edit for me and, well, everything. :)

Chapter 37

Lightman residence, Washington DC

Emily Lightman stood outside the half open door of her father's bedroom, with a cup of herbal tea in her hand, and debated. Whether to knock. Whether, at one in the morning, it wasn't too late for this. Whether her mother might've been horribly mistaken in thinking that Gillian would want to see her.

I wouldn't want to see me if I were you.

Those were just some of the thoughts that raced through her mind while she stood still and immobile in the hallway.

She stayed like that for some time. Until finally she stopped thinking, took a tentative step and poked her head inside the bedroom. Gillian was probably asleep by now. There really was no point to this.

It was the giant dog she spotted first, looking as though he was asleep but raising his head attentively the moment he saw movement near the door. Then the dog sat up on the bed and that made Gillian turn towards her as well. Both dog and human were awake and they both stared at her now. Giant, droopy brown eyes and weary blue ones.

Emily swallowed.

This was a terrible idea.

"Emily?"

Emily stepped inside the room and set the mug of now lukewarm tea down on the bedside table. "Mom made this for you. She thought you might like something warm."

"Thanks."

Emily couldn't even look at her. Couldn't do this.

"I don't want to bother you..." she mumbled, turning around and heading back for the door, fighting the urge to run.

"Em...?"

Her legs were impossibly heavy, Emily forced herself to turn around. To look at Gillian.

"You don't have to go," Gillian told her, pushing herself up on the two pillows she'd propped up underneath her.

There was something in Gillian's voice that made a fresh batch of tears pool in her eyes. Something kind and familiar and warm. Something she was so certain she didn't deserve.

Gillian held out her hand. "Come here."

Emily didn't budge, even though she wanted to curl up next to her and that giant dog that she was already crazy about. "I don't get it, Gill. Why are you being nice to me?"

"Because I love you?"

Emily used the back of her hand to wipe away her tears before they fell. She hadn't cried this much in a long time. She must've used up a year's supply of tears tonight.

"I am pissed off at you," Gillian admitted. "If that makes you feel better."

The un-Gillian-like admission made Emily chuckle, in spite of her tears. Made her feel as though the weight of the world was slowly lifting off her shoulders. Maybe there was a chance that it was going to be okay between them and it suddenly struck her how much she needed it to be.

Emily sat down on the king-size bed after kicking off her slippers. She leaned against the headboard as she slipped her legs underneath the thick white comforter. This was where she using to come as a kid and sneak in between her mother and father. Way back when her parents were still sleeping in the same bed under this roof. It only happened a couple of times, because already then, when she was still young enough to sneak into bed with them at night, they were already at odds with each other.

Moritz tilted his head in her direction and gave her a couple of sniffs and one quick lick on the cheek, deciding it was okay for her to be here. That she wasn't going to hurt his mom.

If you only knew how much I already did...

"We've never let him on the bed before," Gillian explained. "But I thought I'd make an exception tonight. I needed him close by."

Emily nodded, understanding as she petted the dog.

"You know he's gonna be here every night now, right?"

Gillian smiled. "I know. Big mistake."

Emily turned towards Gillian and finally took a good look at her. Noticing the darkening bruise on the side of her face.

"He hurt you too." Emily acknowledged and it sent a fresh wave of guilt through her.

For the first time since Emily stepped into the room, Gillian avoided her gaze, staring straight ahead into the wall instead. "He tried."

He did more than try.

"I'm sorry, Gillian," Emily told her, finally able to get the words. "I'm so sorry for what I did at the hospital."

Gillian acknowledged the apology with a subtle nod.

The silence got to her and Emily was close to tears again. Was it ever going to stop?

Gillian gave Moritz a little shove and gestured for him to move to the foot of the bed. Then her hand reached out for Emily's, clasping it into her own. "Em...it's okay."

"It's not."

"Yeah...it is."

It wasn't.

"You want to tell me why you did it?" Gillian tried. "Why you didn't want me to see your father?"

"I don't know."

Liar.

"Emily..." Gillian squeezed her hand, forcing her to pay attention. "I want you to know that I love your father very much. I don't ever want you to think that I don't."

"I know..."

"You're not the only one who wishes he hadn't done what he did tonight..." Her voice faltered and Emily could see that she was fighting back tears too.

Emily was the one squeezing Gillian's hand now. Visions of what might've happened if her father hadn't done what he did ran through her mind.

Maybe Gillian wouldn't be here now.

Maybe she'd be dead.

Goose bumps lined her arms at the thought.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she said softly. It was the truth. Emily should have told her that hours ago. Not make her feel guilty for not being the one with three bullets in her body. "If what he did saved your life then I'm glad that he did it, Gillian."

Gillian nodded and wiped away her own tears.

Emily wasn't certain whether Gillian believed her and it tore at her. "I mean it."

"I know..." Gillian sank back into the pillows. "I'm so tired, Em."

Emily bit her lip. There was so much more she wanted to ask Gillian. How long she'd been together with her father. Why they hadn't told her? Whether she stayed here often. She wanted to know about the man who shot him. What was their connection to him?

"I took one of the pills the doctor gave me at the hospital," Gillian explained and Emily noticed the prescription container on the bedside table. "It's made really sleepy."

"You don't have to explain...I'll go..." Gillian was hurt and it was the middle of the night. Emily pushed the comforter off her legs and Moritz grumbled when she accidentally gave him a little kick.

"You don't have to go," Gillian said softly.

Emily felt like she should go. That she didn't belong in this room. This was their space now. Her father's and Gillian's. But she didn't want to leave either. Being here was the only thing that had made her feel okay since her father got shot.

She'd stay just for a little while, she decided. Until Gillian was asleep.

Later

It was four in the morning when Zoe Landau noticed that the light was still on in the master bedroom, after getting up because she couldn't sleep. She stuck her head through the half-open door only to find all three of them asleep together on the huge bed. Gillian, Emily and the bear-sized dog.

Em was lying on her stomach, half of her face squished into the pillow. It was how she slept since she was six years old. Even so, one of her hands was linked with Gillian's and it made Zoe smile. It was good to see that they were okay again. They'd need each other more than ever now.

She tip-toed into the room to turn off the lamp on Gillian's side of the bed. Noticing that Moritz's eyes were wide-open now, following her every movement.

Please don't kill me.

He didn't.

And Zoe left as quietly as she came.

Georgetown University Hospital

The next day

It took a while for his pupils to focus. To make out the blurry figure in front of him.

But when he finally did, it was well worth the wait. Worth it for the familiar smile he loved so much.

"Hi."

"Hi, luv."

"It's good to see you...really good."

Her beautiful blue eyes were moist.

"If it's good...you're not supposed to cry." His voice sounded funny to his own ears. It took an insane amount of effort to croak out a whole sentence.

"I'm a cry baby, remember?"

He grinned. The stabbing pain that coursed through him every time he inhaled was worth that too. "That you are."

One of her hands moved onto his chest, fingers inching around the bandages there. "Especially when it comes to you."

Cal stared at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

He moved an arm to reach out to her face but stopped when it hurt too much.

"Easy..." She guided his arm back down to the bed, resting her hand there now.

"You don't look alright," he told her. Gorgeous smile aside, her face looked awful. Made him want to kill Hunter Kline all over again.

"Says the guy lying in the hospital bed with three bullet wounds."

"Three?" They hadn't told him much so far. But in fairness he'd been awake and lucid for only a few hours now. And the odd combination of soreness and numbness he felt thanks to the drugs coursing through his veins, meant he couldn't even identify a spot of focused pain that would've told him where he was hit.

"Yeah..." Gillian let go of his hand and moved to pull a chair next to this bed, sitting down slowly while he watched her. "You took one bullet to the chest and two to your leg," she explained. "The shot to the chest was the one that almost..." She exhaled. Didn't finish.

"The one that almost did me in?"

"But it didn't. In fact the doc I just spoke to says that all things considered it did minimal damage. That he expects you to heal from it completely. But you do have a collapsed lung. It's why you've got a chest tube stuck in you."

There was something else that Gillian wasn't telling him. Cal could see it but he didn't press her on it. Not now. "So, good news, yeah?"

"Amazing news."

"That leaves two."

"The other two bullets hit your left leg. One in the thigh, the other just above your knee."

"Two bullets in one leg? What are the chances?"

"Pretty slim, according to Wallowski. Apparently once Kline realized it was all over he just kept firing, even as he went down. It was pure fluke that he got you twice, in nearly the same spot."

"Is he...?"

"Dead," Gillian told him. "He died at the scene."

"Good." He wasn't going to pretend, not to his own conscience and not to Foster, that he didn't think that was great news.

Gillian didn't say anything and that didn't surprise Cal. He knew her well enough to know she didn't have it in her to celebrate anyone's death.

She took a hold of his hand again and he was grateful for her touch. Unlike his, her skin felt warm and alive. "So am I gonna walk anytime soon?"

Gillian bit her lips. "The doctor told me they haven't assessed the full damage yet. They were more concerned with keeping you alive last night."

"Well, now that that's done, let's get on with it. Can't lie around here for weeks. I've got a company to run."

"Cal?" Gillian's brows narrowed and he saw both anger and fear in her eyes. "Don't..."

Cal exhaled and it felt as though a knife jabbed into his lungs. He was tempted to push the little button that the nurse told him he could push when the pain got too bad but he resisted. His mind was foggy enough as it was. He ran his thumb along the top of Gillian's hand and changed the subject. Maybe broaching the topic of getting out of here was a little premature. He'd give it another couple of days. "Did I tell you I dreamed Zoe was here last night?"

"She was here last night...she flew in from Chicago as soon as she heard the news."

"Bloody hell! Really?"

Gillian smirked. "Yeah. Really."

"She still here?"

"She's waiting outside with Emily. They thought I might want a few minutes alone with you first." She bent down to kiss him and Cal let the scent of her enter his nostrils, giving his olfactory senses a brief respite from the hospital smell that was already starting to bother him. "I took them up on it. Even thought they told us we shouldn't stress you too much. Shouldn't stay too long."

"Glad you did," he mumbled. "Love you."

Her eyes were moist again. "You know...for a while yesterday I wasn't sure whether I'd hear you say that again."

Cal wanted to put his arms around her, touch her and comfort her in ways other than with his finger tips. Because he couldn't even fathom what she went through last night. But he was hopelessly immobile right now. "Not done saying it yet. Promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

"What about the Group?" Maybe this wasn't the right time to ask, but he had to know. The Lightman Group was his lifeblood and it was hanging by a thread as it was, staying solvent only because he put in twelve hour days, six, sometimes seven, days a week.

He caught the uncertainty on her face and she didn't get a chance to answer, or chose not to, because both his daughter and ex-wife were now standing in the doorway.

He'd leave it for the time being, but the minute he was alone with Gillian, he'd ask again.

Now, more than ever, Cal needed her back at the Lightman Group.