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"It would be better to go around the back, Ma'am. There's a lot of press here." One of the secret service members stated from the front seat of the SUV.
Claire saw the crowd gathered outside the hospital doors. Cameras flashing and a mass of microphones hanging down from them. James sat beside her, staring back at the ambulance that was going to the emergency room of the hospital. Squeezing her daughter's hand, she rested her hand on the door. "Just hold up the blanket in back around us. Push back the reporters. I don't care what you have to do, but we are getting into that hospital now."
"What if Brighton or Garrett make it?" James asked in a whisper.
Once they had called for help, James had rushed out of the Oval to find someone to help. With a number of secret service members and emergency first responders showing up, Claire and James were quickly removed from the scene so that Francis and Doug could be transported to the hospital. They had heard both of them were still breathing with a weakening pulse on Francis's part. The condition of Garrett and Brighton wasn't brought up before they were taken to their detail, leaving them wondering if they were still being targeted by one or both of them.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Let's just focus on your father and Doug for right now." Claire sighed, caressing James's hair back from her face. She was sure they both looked a mess with the struggle and the blood stains from trying to help and survive. "I'm sure the police will be down shortly to talk to us about what happened, and they'll probably want us to be examined for evidence as well. They'll update us then."
"Last time, the hospital only had scrubs to change into. They'll want our clothes for testing." James stated, glancing down at both their beautiful gowns now tarnished with blood and tears from being dragged and tossed around.
Claire waited until the SUV stopped and the agents got out to create a clear path for them. Even though Francis and Doug didn't find any other connections to Garrett, she wasn't ready to trust anyone yet. "I'll make a call. We could be spending the next couple days here waiting for news." She glanced up when the SUV door on her side was open, closest to the hospital. Two of their men held up a large blue blanket to hide them as much as possible, and she slid out of the car first before turning back for James. "C'mon, baby."
James took Claire's hand and climbed out as well before the two agents turned with them to go into the hospital. It was like a wall of questions on either side, hands and microphones reaching out for a desperate and futile answer. The world outside was in the dark, just knowing that their President had been shot and the first family attacked. They hung in suspense, and she and Claire were no different this time.
Claire stood outside the examination room where James was submitting physical evidence again to show that a Walker had touched her. Other than a quick scalp check and some touch DNA tests, Claire's check had been relatively quick, and they had left her in bright pink scrubs to wait for James to finish up. Their team of agents stood around her like hawks, each a few feet away from her. "One of you has my phone, right?"
"Yes, Ma'am." The agent to her left stated before reaching into his pocket and pulling out her clutch and handing it to her. "No word on the President either."
"The others?" Claire asked as her hand slipped inside to pull out her phone. Her eyes never left the agent's face though, even as he shook his head. "Thank you." She breathed before scrolling through her phone and stepping inside the waiting room they had already cleared and evacuated for them. She sat down by the opposite wall in one of the chairs, still visible if James emerged from her examination, and pressed her phone to her ear.
The southern bell's voice came through with shock and relief, something Claire had grown accustomed too by most everyone at this point. "Claire?"
"Hello, Cathy." She breathed before exhaling sharply. "I hope I didn't wake you."
"My gosh, honey. No." Cathy Durant sighed into the phone. "I was just about to leave when secret service members started swarming up to the Oval. I was escorted back to my house, but I've been waiting to hear more of what happened. The news is saying that Francis was shot."
Claire closed her eyes when she remembered the blood pooling on her husband's stomach, and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. "He was. I haven't heard anything more on him since we arrived at the hospital." She took a shallow breath as tears gathered in her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's just been a very hard night."
"Claire, honey, what can I do? How are you doing?" Cathy asked. It wasn't a politician's 'what can I do for you' tone, but an actual caring friend's caring curiosity.
Despite their differences and the lack of a real personal relationship, Claire was glad to have a friend for the moment. "I'm doing as best I can at this point. I don't trust anyone anymore. I can't read James. She's like an empty shell. She watched the man who rescued her from Gordon get shot and then her father is shot in front of her. I don't blame her for breaking down. Francis is in surgery, but he lost a lot of blood. We're not even sure what was damaged, but it didn't look good when I was trying to stop the bleeding." She shook her head, closing her eyes. "Forget I called. It's too big a favor to ask anyway."
Cathy halted Claire with a quick shush. "Claire, you've got a whole family in crisis on your plate right now. Whatever you need, tell me. I want to help you and my goddaughter in any way that I can. Just name it."
"Uh, the police need James' and I's clothes for the investigation." Claire began. "It sounds so silly compared to what we're dealing with here, but would you mind picking us up some clothes? All they have is scrubs here, and I have a feeling we'll be here for a long time until we hear some good news."
"That is no problem." Cathy reassured her. "I'm sure the White House is going to be closed off for the time being. I will find something comfortable for the two of you. Same sizes from the Christmas lists last year?"
Claire smiled gently, wiping at her eyes. "Yes, thank you, Cathy." She glanced up when a nurse stepped out of James's examination room with a worried look on her face. "I'm sorry, Cathy. I have to let you go. I think something is going on with James."
Cathy's end of the call rustled softly, but she answered quickly. "Go take care of her. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Mrs. Underwood?" The nurse asked as Claire stood up, hanging up the phone. "Do you have a moment?"
"Of course, what's going on?" Claire asked softly.
The nurse gestured back towards the door. "Ms. Underwood is done with her examination. Physically, she's fine. She might have a headache the next couple days from the hair pulling, but there's not a scratch on her. As for her mental state, she has completely cut off. She only answered my questions when it involved crucial evidence needed, and she did get sick a couple times. It could be from the stress, and you know your daughter better than I do. I just wanted to warn you of the signs I saw in case further treatment is needed from that end."
"Thank you for telling me." Claire swallowed hard, rubbing her chest. "Can I go in there?"
"Yes, she's just changing into the scrubs." The nurse nodded before going with Claire to the door and knocking softly. "James, we're coming in, okay?"
Claire stepped inside when the nurse opened the door, mouthing her thanks before dismissing the nurse to tend to her daughter. She turned back, walking around the curtain to find James laying on the examination table in her own set of pink scrubs. Her arms were raised up, hands covering her face like a small child would when playing hide and seek. "Honey, it's just me. What's going on?"
James wiped at her eyes and sat up with a shake of her head. "Nothing. Just thinking about Doug and Daddy." She met Claire's eyes, more tears gathering. "This is fucked up."
"I know it is." Claire sighed before wrapping her arms around James and holding her close. "The nurse said you got sick a couple times. Is it from the stress, the worry? Were you just sick of the poking and prodding?"
"No," James voice choked on the one word, and Claire immediately tensed. "I've felt off for a few days now." She held her mother tighter as the tears fell down her cheeks. "I don't know, but I can't lose Doug."
"Shhh," Claire soothed, cupping the back of James's head and holding her against her chest. "Things will work themselves out. We haven't heard anything yet back on Doug or your father yet." She kissed the crown of her head. "How late are you?"
"A week." James stated. "I'm never late, Mom."
Claire shook her head. "Let's not jump to conclusions right now. In a couple days when we know more about what's going on, we can pick up some things from the drug store to check for ourselves. Until then, just put it out of your mind. We have two men who need our focus right now. Okay?"
James nodded and wiped at her eyes when Claire pulled back to do the same. "Okay." She huffed out a breath, running her hands down her stomach and to her thighs. "Have you heard anything about them?"
"Just that they're still in surgery." Claire whispered before hugging James tightly again, burying her face in her hair. "I thought I was going to lose you. I've never been so scared in my entire life. My God, do you know what I would've done if Garrett had hurt you?"
James closed her eyes, resting her head on Claire's shoulder. "Well, you shot him twice for trying to touch me. Can't imagine what you would do if he had gotten his way." She relaxed when Claire started rubbing her back, her thumb gently running back and forth over the nape of her neck. "I have a feeling you could create a place close to hell though."
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