Caroline and the Unfortunate Accident by Ann Fox

Caroline and the Unfortunate Accident
by Ann Fox
1998

**Winner of 1998 CitC fanfic mailing list award: "Best Richard and Caroline fanfic"

DISCLAIMER: The following story is based on characters from the NBC sitcom "Caroline in the City". I do not own them; they belong to Fred Barron and Marco Pennette and all the folks over there at NBC. No infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This takes place early in the fourth year, shortly before Richard and Julia's first anniversary. In order for this to work, you must assume that the events of the third season finale (with the bullfighter) did not happen. Some of it might be slightly graphic, (as the title explains, there is an accident in the story) but it is nothing they wouldn't be able to show on TV. I just thought I should warn you anyway.

********

"Charlie, this isn't working!"

"Del, you're not doing it right! You have to let go of that street sign if you want to get anywhere!"

"I'm gonna fall over!"

"No you won't. Just balance. If I can do it, you can too."

"How did I ever let you talk me into this?" Del whined.

"Let go!" yelled Charlie as he attempted to pry Del's fingers off the pole.

"Fine!"

With that, Del released his grip on the NO PARKING sign and started to roll backwards. He quickly, and predictably, lost his balance, flailing his arms wildly as he began to fall. "AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!" he screamed as his legs flew out from underneath him. He landed squarely on his back and bonked his head on a metal trash bin on the way down.

He groaned in pain and reached up to rub his head. "Dammit, Charlie! What did I tell you?"

"Hey, relax, man. Stop giving off so much negative energy. What's wrong with you, anyway? You're the 'athletic' type. Rollerblading should be a cinch...but.....I...guess...not," said Charlie, pursing his lips and rolling his eyes in his "Charlie-like" way.

Del snorted in disgust. He didn't want to admit that Charlie was right.

"Just help me up, would you?" he said instead. Del grabbed ahold of the trash can and shakily pulled himself up again. "Ow, my back."

"Oh, get over it, Sissy Boy."

Del scowled at him and Charlie put up his hands defensively, cowering just a bit. "Just watch it, Charlie. I'm a lot stronger than you are...." Del looked down at his feet. "....When I'm not on rollerblades." Deciding it was virtually pointless to fight with Charlie while he was in such a position, he said, "Oh, let's just get out of here before you get us killed."

They had only stumbled about four or five feet before Del began to whine again. "How the hell did I ever let you talk me into this?" he asked irritably.

"Hey, you asked me, pal. I distinctly remember you saying--" Charlie lowered his voice to imitate Del, " 'Charlie, you have to help me learn how to rollerblade. You see, there's this girl Michele, and she only likes guys who--"

"All right, Charlie, that's enough. I remember. Now where are my shoes?"

Charlie thought to himself for a moment, his eyes suddenly lighting up as he came to a realization. "Oh yeah! They're up there on the corner. I set them down on the bench next to that old white-haired granny in front of that dog grooming place."

"You mean 'Shampoodle's'?" Del asked curiously.

"Yeah, that's it!" replied Charlie excitedly.

Del snorted again before blowing up at Charlie. "That's not an old woman, you idiot! That's the owner's son dressed up as the store's mascot."

Charlie had resumed his defensive posture again, but Del could see he was confused.

"What? You never saw that commercial with Mitsy the Poodle? Where he dances all around the screen, trying to get you to bring your dog in?"

Charlie shook his head. Del looked away from him and focused his gaze up at the sky. A groan escaped from his throat. When Del didn't say anything for a few moments, Charlie decided it would be okay for him to contribute a few words of wisdom. "Well, in a way, that's sort of a relief, man."

Del looked back at Charlie in annoyance. "What are you talking about?"

"I almost.....ALMOST....told him that he was kinda hairy and that maybe looking into electrolysis wouldn't be such a bad idea....but I thought that would be a little rude."

Del slapped his palms to his forehead. He had just about reached the end of his patience. "Charlie, I can't believe you just left my shoes sitting there! I mean, anyone could just walk off with them!"

"Don't you trust anyone, even your local pet groomer?" Charlie asked innocently.

Del narrowed his eyes and pinched his lips together.

"I take that as a 'no'," Charlie said, his eyes now fixed on the sky.

"It's New York, Charlie! You're not supposed to trust anyone around here, least of all a fat guy in a poodle suit! Have you learned nothing from me?" Another groan emanated from his mouth. "Those Nikes cost me $120! You are going to get those shoes back for me, no matter what it takes. Do you understand?"

Charlie nodded. "Yep. Okay, but tell me this--why would you spend so much money on shoes if you're just going to let someone rip them off?"

Del was now glaring at Charlie. "Let's just get my shoes and get out of here."

"Okay. You 'Da Boss'."

Del clung desperately to Charlie's waist, stumbling as Charlie pulled them down the sidewalk. Under normal circumstances, Del would never be caught dead in such a seemingly intimate situation with another guy, especially Charlie, but when it came to impressing women, he went to just about any length. At that point, he was beginning to regret it, though, when he spotted a six- and a half-foot-tall poodle examining his brand new cross-trainers.

"Look at that!" Del screamed. "That reject's gonna steal them! Hurry up!"

Charlie did his best to skate faster, but Del was too much of a hindrance. "We're not getting anywhere like this. How 'bout you just wait here and I'll go get your shoes back?"

Del looked a little uncertain, but he knew Charlie was going to make his point whether he had something to say about it or not. "If Mitsy takes off, there's no way he's getting away. No overgrown poodle, especially an ill-groomed one, is ever gonna outrun Charlie."

"Fine," said Del in desperation. "Just don't do anything stupid."

"Who, me?" replied Charlie.

Del was relieved to be able to stand still for a moment, but was anxious as to what kind of a situation Charlie could (and would) get them into interacting with a man-sized dog. Charlie skated up to the bench confidently and sat down next to Mitsy, who didn't even acknowledge his presence.

"Hey, pal, you didn't happen to see a pair of shoes sitting around here, did you?" he asked.

The poodle did not look up and continued to examine the expensive footwear. "Nope. Didn't see nothin'."

"Hmm," mused Charlie. "That's interesting because I just set a pair of Nikes down on this bench about five minutes ago, and they seem to have.......magically......disappeared." Mitsy still did not react. "Are you sure you didn't see them?"

"No, man. Said I didn't see nothin'," repeated the poodle.

"Well, where'd you get those then?" Charlie asked, indicating the sneakers the poodle was clutching onto.

"Bought 'em."

"Really?" remarked Charlie in feigned disbelief. "Since when do poodles need shoes?"

The dog finally looked at Charlie. "Prob'ly since they started speakin' English and sittin' out in the sun in itchy costumes waitin' for their last unemployment check."

"Well, I've never seen a dog wearing shoes before," said Charlie, ignoring the dog's explanation and growing agitated in his unique "Charlie-like" way.

"I have sensitive feet," snapped the poodle.

"Yeah, right, Mitsy! Gimme those Nikes!" yelled Charlie as he lost his patience and lunged himself at the overgrown poodle.

"No way, you idiot! If you're stupid enough to leave them sittin' out, you deserve to have 'em ripped off!"

Charlie started slapping and clawing childishly at the dog in an lame but noble attempt to get at Del's shoes. Mitsy clutched the sneakers tightly to his furry body and did not relent.

"Give them back!" Charlie screamed, an uncharacteristic look of fury burning in his eyes.

The much larger and much stronger poodle rolled his eyes at the childish display. "Fine, you freak! Take the friggin' shoes," Mitsy muttered as he released his grip on the shoe.

"AAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!" screamed Charlie as the momentum created by tugging on the shoe propelled him backwards into the street.

Simultaneously, a tall, dark-haired woman stood in the street, holding her arm in the air in an attempt to hail a cab. Before she knew what was happening, she was struck from behind and driven forcefully into the pavement. She landed squarely on her face, breaking her nose upon impact and crushing her left knee painfully beneath her. The force that had knocked her over fell on top of her, knocking all of the wind out of her in one swift movement before she even had a chance to cry out.

An approaching taxi squealed its tires as it tried to brake, but it was too late. The driver could do nothing as he saw the unfortunate woman fall in front of the car. All around, traffic came to a squealing halt.

Charlie had landed roughly on top of something soft, which he immediately realized was a human being. He made every attempt to cling onto the shoe, but when he saw the fast-approaching taxi, he screeched like a little girl and dropped it, scrambling out of the way just in time. Looking back, he was able to see exactly who he had landed on. A young, well-dressed, beautiful woman lay sprawled out in the middle of the street, partially lodged underneath a cab.

"No!" screamed Charlie as he rushed back out into the street. The driver of the cab jumped out and worriedly let out some choice expletives as he rushed towards the unconscious woman. She lay face-down on the concrete, her dark curls spread out around her head. A black Gucci pump lay a few feet from her bare right foot. Her cowhide purse somehow remained clutched in her hand, although some of its contents lay scattered around her feet.

"Oh my goodness, Miss! Are you all right?" asked the cabbie, his English thick with an Indian accent. As he rolled her out from under the cab, she groaned in pain.

"She's alive!" exclaimed Charlie.

She lay limply in the cabbie's arms for a few moments, then slowly blinked her eyes open and looked around. Apparently confused as to where she was, she tried to speak, but could get nothing past her lips.

"She's awake!" said Charlie.

From all around, people began to gather around the scene of the accident. By this time, Del had somehow gotten out of the rollerblades and collected his shoes as he ran stocking-footed into the street. Just as he pushed his way to the center of the chaos, the cabbie helped the injured woman into a sitting position, and Charlie began to apologize.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry! It's all that poodle's fault!" Del nudged Charlie in the ribs hard. "Ow!" he scowled at Del, then continued. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

The woman stared at Charlie and Del as if she recognized them but could not remember who they were.

"Find my Reechard," she whispered in heavily accented English, then slumped over in the cabbie's arms, unconscious.

"'Reechard'?" Del repeated. Del's jaw dropped as realization struck him. "Richard!!!! Omigod, Charlie, that's Julia!!!!!"

"Richard's Julia!!!!! Oh no!!!"

Del shut his eyes and grimaced. "Charlie, what the hell did you get us into now?! Richard's gonna be pissed!"

"Do you know this woman?" interjected the cabbie.

Del sighed. "Yes, yes, this is our friend's wife."

"We have to get her to a hospital!" screamed Charlie.

"Well, let's not waste any more time. Help me get her in my cab," said the driver. "I am so sorry about this!"

With the help of Del, Charlie, and a few onlookers, they got an unconscious Julia into the back seat of the cab, and headed off for the hospital.

********

Richard got up from his seat at the drafting desk and headed over to Caroline's refrigerator. Hoping for a cold Sprite, he was disappointed to discover that she had a plentiful stock of bottled spring water, but it was just his luck--not a Sprite was in sight. Shrugging his shoulders, he decided that water would have to do, although he really didn't see the point of buying bottled water when tap water was suitable for drinking. But of course, that was the side of him talking that had been poor for so long. Some people could afford to buy water. He had to settle for this dirty-looking brown liquid that came out of his faucet. But by now, he had gotten used to the slightly metallic taste and had actually started to...like it? Oh, what was this world coming to?

Caroline, who was still seated at the table, called from across the room and interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, could you bring me some Tostitos while you're up?"

Richard unscrewed the cap on his water and answered, "Anything else I can get for you, my lotus-eating associate?"

"Come on, Richard, be a pal. We've been hard at work all morning."

"I've noticed. In fact, my wrist has been complaining for so long it's finally sent me its letter of resignation. It's tired of all the overtime and the stressful working conditions. It's opted for a nice, long vacation."

Caroline rolled her eyes for what was obviously not the first time that morning. "Okay, then, Richard. Bring me the Tostitos and I'll give you a little break."

"Fine," he said as he reached for the unopened bag of chips. "But one of these times you're going to be forced to exert yourself, and you won't be able to handle the stress of walking fifteen feet to the kitchen to get yourself a cholesterol-filled snack. In which case, you will either die of a heart attack on the spot or sit there and starve to death. Either way, you don't get your chips."

Before Richard had finished his typical speech on Caroline's "laziness", she was already out of her seat and headed for the kitchen counter. "I don't know why I put up with you every day."

"Well, you don't," he explained as he returned to his seat. "I don't come in on the weekends."

Caroline cocked her head as she considered this.

"Usually," he added, hinting at the fact that Caroline was still asking him to put in extra hours when he should have been at home painting, or at least spending time at home with his wife. His wife. Julia, his wife. But somehow he managed to spend more time with Caroline than alone with his own wife. It almost seemed....backwards. Richard's mind was once again uneasy and he knew it showed. Normally he could mask his emotions, but somehow he couldn't suppress his discomfort.

Caroline understood exactly what he was trying to hint at, but pretended to be ignorant. Both for my sake, and for his, she thought to herself. She tore open the bag of chips and began munching loudly. They both returned to their seats and sat in silence for several moments as Richard sipped his spring water and Caroline chomped on her corn chips. Richard eventually set the water down on the ledge of the desk and resumed his coloring, despite his complaints about having worked too hard. Caroline noticed the sudden change in Richard, but she knew from experience that it was best not to try to pull him out of his mood because he wouldn't cooperate. The tenacious, stubborn man. She let him go on coloring.

When she got sick of the chips, she rolled up the top of the bag and clipped on a clothes pin to keep it fresh, a trick her mother had taught her when she was growing up. As soon as thoughts of her mother entered her mind, she frantically attempted to focus on a different subject, repressing her painful childhood memories just as her wonderful mother had taught her to do. A woman of many talents, she thought to herself. Caroline trudged over to the kitchen and tossed the bag on the counter.

Meanwhile, Richard tried with all his might to hide behind an expressionless mask. It was hard, but he had to do it--he had no other choice. Julia was probably sitting at home this very moment, alone and miserable, waiting for him to come home. No, she'd given up on that months ago when she realized how pointless the whole idea was. She was probably standing behind the bar at Remo's, waiting on drunk men who hit on her all day long, simply making up for the void she must feel without Richard at home. Richard was saddened by the condition of his existence, though he knew he should be the happiest man alive. He had a decent job, he had friends who cared about him, and he had the most beautiful and exotic wife that any man could ever hope for. And yes, he loved her deeply. So where was the problem? She was right here, in the very apartment in which he sat as he colored in the comic strip. Caroline.

No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, he was still desperately in love with Caroline. As impossible as it might seem, he found himself loving her more and more each day. Her quirky habits, her sometimes innocent and naive thoughts about life and love, and her almost sickening perkiness had endeared her to him from the beginning. It seemed that loving her from a distance was going to be his only option though, now that he was a married man. He did not take his wedding vows lightly, even if it had been a slightly hasty decision.

He could not and would not cheat on his wife. And Caroline would most certainly not have an affair with a married man. No way.

She did, however, admit that she had felt the same way about him as he had about her, but she claimed that she'd moved on. Whether or not that was the case, Richard knew he had to tell her he'd moved on too since proclaiming his love for her would only complicate matters. Richard had simply decided that he was born miserable and would die miserable. It was his destiny--the lot in life of the typical artist. Artists aren't supposed to be happy. And besides, pain is good for art. He simply had focused his misery into his work, and he knew it was all the more powerful because of it.

Caroline returned to the desk, pulled out a fresh cardboard panel and started on a new strip. She was getting bored, and her wrist, too, was feeling a little cramped. Out of the blue, she said, "Richard? Wanna come shopping with me for a new blender?"

He raised his head ever so slightly and looked up at her. "You can't do that on your own?"

"Well, sure, I could go on my own. But that's no fun. Why don't we take a little break?"

There was a slight plea in her voice, barely perceptible, but Richard heard it and relented. "Oh, all right. I have to get a new toaster anyway."

Caroline smiled gently and headed for the door. Richard was not far behind. "I hope you don't expect me to pay for your toaster," she warned.

Richard opened the door for her. "No. As long as you pretend you didn't notice that missing gallon of gesso primer, we're even."

Julia was admitted into the hospital, and now lay asleep in a private room. The doctors were a little concerned about possible head trauma, so they kept a close watch over her. Her other injuries were not terribly serious. She did have a broken nose and crushed knee, but she was incredibly lucky that she hadn't been killed.

Attempts had been made to contact both Richard and Caroline, but the phones in both their apartments had been picked up by an answering machine. Del was a little suspicious because Caroline was supposed to be at home working on his new lunch box designs, but this wasn't the first time that she'd gone out unannounced. It wasn't like he had any control over her anyway. It was her life.

But where was Richard? He wouldn't go out on a shopping spree with her, would he? Del didn't understand the guy, but he'd been known to do some pretty strange things. There was nothing Del could do now but wait for them to return. He just prayed that Caroline had not gone shoe shopping. If that were the case, he knew for a fact that she'd be gone all afternoon. This was experience talking.

Charlie could not sit still. He rolled back and forth and back and forth on his skates, anxiety plastered all over his face. He knew this was all his fault. If only he hadn't met Del in the first place, he never would have asked him to teach him how to rollerblade, and he never would have set Del's new shoes down on the bench, and that poodle never would have tried to steal them, and consequently he never would have knocked Julia into the street. No, wait! It's all Del's fault. If Del hadn't convinced Richard to come along with them to meet Charlie's father last year, Richard never would have met up with Julia again and at this moment, she'd probably be back in Italy where she belonged.

"It is not my fault, Charlie!" yelled Del.

"Oops, did I say that aloud?" Charlie asked.

Del gave Charlie a humorless smirk. "No, but I know that's what you were thinking."

Charlie was about to protest, but then a doctor came out into the waiting room. He told them they couldn't perform surgery on Julia without a family member's consent. She didn't need immediate surgery, but the sooner it could be done, the better. Del told the doctor he would do his best to locate Richard.

The doctor left and Del told Charlie to sit down because he was starting to go insane.

"Del, I can't sit down. I'm way too wired."

"Well, why don't you use this energy for some good? Go out and see if you can find Richard. Do anything. Just get out of here."

Charlie looked at Del down his nose. "Fine. But don't ask me another favor, Mister. I've done enough for you for one day."

Del nodded his head. "You sure have, Charlie. Now get the hell outta here."

Charlie skated out the door. Del slumped down in his seat with an issue of "Highlights For Children" dated June 1987.

********

Caroline and Richard walked out of Bloomingdale's, toaster and blender in hand. And, of course, a pair of shoes. But not for Caroline. Richard had bought them for Julia as a surprise.

"She'll love them, Richard," Caroline had said when she spotted them. Richard, still feeling slightly guilty, couldn't deny they were a very attractive pair of footwear. What's more, they'd even been on sale!

Now they walked down the sidewalk, looking for a cab. The streets were packed with taxis, but they all seemed to be occupied. "Why don't we walk? It's a nice day," suggested Richard. Caroline did not protest.

"So what are you and Julia planning for your anniversary?" Caroline asked curiously. It was August now, only a few weeks away from their one-year anniversary.

Richard shook his head. "Well, I don't know. We really haven't exactly discussed it yet," he admitted.

"You should do something really romantic for her. I know I have been keeping you overtime more than I really should lately, and I want to do something to make up for it."

"Oh, Caroline, you don't have to do anything. I know it's not your fault that you need me to put in extra hours. Julia and I had a talk about that and she understands."

The corner of her mouth curled up slightly. "No, I want to. Being married for a whole year is a really big deal. We should celebrate it."

For a moment Richard didn't say anything and Caroline took the opportunity to think about what she just said. Her cheeks flushed slightly. "What I mean is, you and Julia should celebrate it."

"Yes, I knew what you meant," Richard replied. This made Caroline blush more. The last thing she wanted to do was to make things uncomfortable.

I guess it's too late for that, she thought. At least for me, anyway.

"I've considered taking her to Italy," he said thoughtfully. "I think she would enjoy going home for once. I think she misses it more than she admits."

"That would be really nice, Richard," said Caroline cheerfully, though inside she was really wishing that it was she who Richard was taking to Italy for their anniversary.

Miraculously, an empty cab came down the street and Richard hailed it. They both slid in the back seat and were silent for the rest of the ride back to Caroline's.

********

Charlie skated up and down street after street, hoping for a glimpse of Caroline or Richard. While he didn't meet up with either of them, he had bumped into five different guys claiming to be Elvis, and one bum dressed up as Captain Kirk.

Finally he gave up on the random search and made his way to Caroline's apartment. She was bound to turn up there eventually.

********

Caroline and Richard entered her apartment building silently and rode the elevator up to the second floor. Just as the "ding" sounded, a muffled voice called through the metal doors.

"Croln! Croln! Where ina wrld hafubin?"

The doors opened up and a frenzied and frantic Charlie greeted them. Caroline shook her head in surprise, nearly dropping her shopping bags. Richard's brow furled in confusion.

"What's going on, Charlie?" Caroline asked, her voice laden with concern.

Charlie took a deep breath, his entire torso heaving upwards with the action. He looked desperately into Caroline's eyes and the words came spilling from his mouth like a geyser. "Del and I were, I mean I was teaching him how to rollerblade, and he wasn't getting it but I left his shoes on a bench--they were really nice shoes--and he got mad at me and I went to get them back, but Mitsy, that poodle--he's really a guy dressed up in a suit--wouldn't give them back so I started fighting with him and finally he let go, but he knocked me backwards into the street and I fell into Julia and she got hit by a cab and then we were waiting for the doctor and he said that she needed surgery--"

"WHAT?!" Richard interjected suddenly, his eyes widening in horror. "Did you just say that Julia got hit by a cab?!"

A pained expression washed over Charlie's face. "I'm sorry Richard; I didn't mean for it to happen. It was an accident!"

Caroline immediately grabbed ahold of Richard's free hand and held it tightly. Richard fought the urge to brush it away, knowing even through his rage that Caroline was trying to help him. He slumped heavily against the elevator door's frame to keep it from closing again. Suddenly breathless, Richard stared right at Charlie. Charlie's body jumped a little under his intense gaze, as if he had just touched a live wire. Slowly and deliberately, Richard enunciated his words, doing everything within his power to stay calm.

"Charlie...I...want...you...to...tell...me...exactly...what...happened."

"Ih," began Charlie, his voice catching in his throat, making a sound more akin to a grunt than a real word. "Ouh, iuh, I--." He struggled with all his might to produce a coherent sentence. "I was fighting with this giant poodle over one of Del's shoes and the poodle lost his patience and let go, and I was still holding onto the shoe and I fell backwards into the street, right into Julia. There was traffic coming from all directions and the cab couldn't stop in time. I got out of the way before anything happened, but Julia got caught under the front bumper."

"Uaugh!" moaned Richard in desperation. Caroline, who was equally shocked, squeezed his hand tighter. Several seconds passed before Richard spoke again. His voice was low and wavering. "Is she okay? I mean, where is she now?"

"She's at the hospital. They need to do some type of surgery on her so Del sent me out to find you so you could give consent," replied Charlie.

"What do you mean 'consent'?" asked Richard cautiously.

"She's unconscious. Since she couldn't give her consent, they needed it from a family member."

Richard sighed deeply. Caroline bit her lower lip. A million thoughts buzzed through their heads as they let the news sink in. "I have to get to her," said Richard finally.

Caroline reached down and picked up the paper bag containing Richard's toaster from the elevator floor. "I'll take this inside. Just hold on a second," she said softly. She scurried to her door and scrambled to fit the key into the lock. After successfully opening it, she set the bags down on the floor and shut it quickly, then joined Richard and Charlie in the elevator.

"Richard, I'm really sorry," said Charlie sincerely.

Richard's eyes seemed to be focused on something far away; he didn't appear to have heard the apology. He was so far away that he probably wouldn't have even reacted if a bomb had blown the elevator car from its support wire and sent them plummeting to their deaths.

********

The next few hours were a blur to all of them. They'd met up with Del in the waiting room, and Richard had signed the consent forms through a shocked haze; his arm had seemed so weak as he touched the pen to the document that Caroline had been unsure whether his hand would work well enough to even create a legible signature. He did, however, and after the doctors assured Richard that everything would be fine, they took Julia to the OR and left the four of them in the waiting room. Richard asked several times whether he could see Julia before she went under, but he was vehemently denied permission. He slumped down in a metal and leather chair, leaning his right arm up on the armrest, and rested his head upon his fist.

Caroline sat between Charlie and Del, watching Richard carefully from across the room. The background noises from the ER provided a melancholy soundtrack to the sorrowful situation. She wished there was something she could do or say to lighten the mood for everyone, but no words could undo any of it. At that moment, she came to regret every unpleasant thought she'd ever had about Richard's wife, every halfhearted prayer she'd ever said for something to separate the two of them. In a very real way, she felt like part of it was her fault. But she knew that blaming herself would get her nowhere; just about everyone there must have been feeling some degree of guilt. It wasn't any one person's fault. If anything, they were all a little to blame. It was simply an unfortunate accident, and since there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it, everyone was just going to have to deal with the consequences of it.

Time crept by agonizingly slow. At one point, Del had offered to pick them up some take out, but none of them seemed to have any sort of appetite. He'd found the vending machine instead and gotten himself a Dr Pepper and some Doritoes. Caroline was a little disgusted that he would feel like eating at a time like that, but she didn't say anything. Eventually, Charlie fell asleep against Caroline's shoulder, but the rest of them remained wide awake. Richard's only movement during the entire time was to straighten himself up in his chair. He stared straight ahead, unblinking, so withdrawn from his surroundings he seemed almost catatonic. Caroline was very worried about him, mostly because there was no real way of knowing what he was thinking, if he was thinking anything at all. Eventually her eyelids began to droop and she, too, succumbed to sleep.

********

From somewhere within his disassociation from the rest of the world, Richard felt a steady hand on his arm. He broke out of the reverie and found himself face to face with Caroline. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and she wore a forced, uneasy smile on her face. He took a deep breath and ran his tongue across his lips. He felt her hand running soothingly up his arm.

"Everything's okay," she whispered.

Richard exhaled in relief.

"She's resting now, but she made it through the surgery just fine. You'll be able to see her as soon as she wakes up."

He smiled slightly. "Thank you." She patted his arm and stood from her crouched position, then sat in the chair to his left.

Richard's eyes scanned the room and settled on the clock above the door.

Almost five hours had passed since he and Caroline had gone shopping for electrical appliances. He couldn't remember a thing that had happened since meeting up with Charlie in the elevator, but he knew that he was better off this way. If he'd had to endure this period of tension and heartache with full awareness of his surroundings, without the protective veil of shock to distance himself from the outside world, he would have most certainly fallen apart. Though he'd desperately wanted to see Julia the second he'd walked in the door, he was grateful they'd forced him to stay in the waiting room and come to grips with the situation. Now that he'd had time to think about it, he realized that he might have overreacted had he seen Julia before he'd had a chance to cool down and collect himself. It was a blessing in disguise.

He turned his head to face Caroline, who regarded him with an air of quiet concern. With directed attention, she watched his expression of impervious indifference shift into one of reluctant acceptance. "Are you okay?" she murmured, reaching over and setting her right hand gently upon his knee.

He stared down at her tiny hand, noting the way her slender fingers rested delicately on his leg, the way her middle finger and thumb cradled the plain sterling silver rings upon them as if they were ornate and priceless jewels instead of the cheap metal they actually were, mass-produced from molds and shipped out to every mall in America. There were very few people who could make such ordinary objects seem extraordinary just by being in their presence. Caroline was one of them. So was Julia.

Richard sighed. "Yes, I'll be okay. It's Julia we should be worried about."

She squeezed his knee comfortingly. "She'll be fine, Richard."

His eyes slipped shut for a moment. "Physically, yes. But what about mentally? I have no doubt that her body will heal quickly, but I am afraid that her emotional wounds will take much longer to mend." He opened his eyes and met Caroline's. "It may not show from the outside because she does so well in hiding it, but Julia is a very vulnerable woman. Certain things affect her more deeply than one might imagine."

Caroline looked slightly surprised. She bit her lip nervously. "Well, no one can be strong all the time, can they?" she whispered.

Richard shook his head gently and slipped his hand into Caroline's before shutting his eyelids once again. Caroline focused her eyes on the beige tiles of the floor, looking through them rather than at them as she slipped away in thought.

********

It was just a half hour later when the nurse returned to the waiting room to announce that Julia had awakened.

Caroline clutched Richard's hand as they stood up together. "Do you want to go in alone?" she asked gently.

He pinched his lips between his teeth and nodded. "That might be the best idea," he decided, giving her soft hand a squeeze before letting it go.

"Good luck," said Del from across the room.

Richard turned to him and nodded in thanks before giving Caroline a final glance and following the nurse out the door.

********

Caroline sat down in the seat that Richard had just vacated and held her head in her hands. As emotionally devastating it was to her to watch Richard in this state, she knew it had to be a hundred times worse for him. In a way, she sort of felt guilty for feeling so terrible, suspecting that perhaps her feelings of sorrow were misdirected; she should be expending her energy on consoling Richard instead of using it to feel bad for him. But shouldn't she be feeling sad for Julia too? While she did feel a great deal of heartache knowing that Julia was battered and bruised and lying in a hospital bed, she felt worse for Richard than she did for Julia. Therein lay her feelings of guilt. True, she didn't care too much for the woman, but because Richard loved her, a part of Caroline did too.

Caroline had a nagging suspicion that she knew what was going on inside that hospital room at that very moment. While part of her was dying, knowing how much it must pain Richard to even be in Julia's presence while she was in such a state, part of her was relieved to know that even someone as seemingly virile and indomitable as Julia could be brought down. She didn't like to admit it, but Julia intimidated her, and to see weakness in her made Caroline feel better about herself. Caroline was not a strong person, and despite her desperate efforts to be a good person, she found herself often succumbing to such thoughts in order to keep herself from falling into the cracks and being stepped upon.

She pulled her legs up and hugged her knees to her chest. This accident was going to change things among all of them; even if it wasn't in a major way, there was always going to be a cloud hanging around, always going to be something that reminded them of what had happened. Even if Julia healed quickly and her wounds began to fade, things were never going to be exactly the same between Julia and Richard. This first conversation between the two of them could be the most vital they'd ever had in their history. If things didn't go as smoothly as she hoped, it could mean the difference between Julia's acceptance and her anger and placement of blame. Caroline didn't want to think about it any more than she had to, but she was left with one nagging thought that didn't belong. Where would this leave her and Richard?

********

Richard returned to the waiting room an hour and forty-five minutes later. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot and his face was the deep pink of a nasty sunburn, shiny and plastic-looking. His bottom lip still trembled slightly, as did his hands as he approached a wide-eyed Caroline.

"Richard," she said, standing up and wrapping her arms around him tightly.

He leaned into her and pulled her closely to his body. Sobbing quietly, he buried his head in her shoulder as she stroked his hair soothingly. She glanced up at Del and Charlie who were watching them with a concerned curiosity. Without a word, Del stood up, nudged Charlie, and made his way to the exit.

As the door swung shut behind Charlie, Richard held Caroline even tighter. They stood there for several minutes, Richard sobbing softly and Caroline smoothing her hands over his back and through his hair, comforting him. It was a moment which would have only been spoiled with words. Neither of them needed words to describe what they were both feeling, their unspoken connection to each other drawing them close.

Caroline waited patiently for Richard's sobs to subside, drinking in both the tragedy and beauty of the situation. After his body stilled, he remained in her arms for several moments, trying to rejuvenate his energy, feeling that the longer he remained wrapped in Caroline's comforting embrace, the stronger he'd be when he finally let go.

He was right; as he broke away from her, he felt a renewed sense of strength. It took him awhile before he was able to look her in the eye, but as he raised his eyes to meet hers, she saw in them a deep and profound sense of loss and an overwhelming need to be comforted. Her suspicions were confirmed and he hadn't even uttered a single word. He held her gaze unwaveringly for a long time before shifting his eyes slowly to the exit. Understanding, Caroline led him to the door and out into the street.

Somehow they found a cab and traveled back to Caroline's apartment. The sky had begun to cloud up and the air had become heavy and humid. Twilight had descended upon the city and the sodium vapor street lamps lit up the street, the yellow windows of the apartments glowing inside dark brick buildings as far as the eye could see. Caroline walked side by side with Richard, neither leading nor following him, to the safe and comfortable haven of her apartment.

Once inside the apartment, Caroline shut the door gently and was nearly knocked off her feet in surprise as Richard pulled her into his arms and kissed her long and full on the lips. Just as she leaned in to kiss him back, he pulled away, tears clouding his eyes once again. His mood was both pained and overjoyed at the same time, but Caroline only sensed this, as his expression lacked definition. Her lips parted as she inhaled and Richard looked straight at her, a thousand different things passing through his eyes in a single moment. Just as Caroline had reached the point in which she no longer could decipher what he was thinking by reading his eyes, he whispered, "Italy."

"What?" she breathed.

"Julia," he replied. "As soon as she gets better, she's going home for awhile."

Caroline, even though she'd suspected this, was still shocked to actually hear him say it. "For how long?" she asked.

"She doesn't know. I don't blame her for wanting to be alone for awhile, and given what she's been through, I wouldn't be surprised if she stays for good."

It was almost as if someone had sucked all of the air out of her lungs; she suddenly felt constricted and found it hard to breathe. "For good?" she whispered.

Richard's eyes slipped shut as a tear slid down each cheek. "Yes."

"Oh, Richard," she moaned in sympathy, moving towards him again to pull him into her arms.

He hugged her tightly against him and sighed deeply. "Thank you," he cried softly in her ear.

"For what?" asked Caroline gently.

"For everything. For being here for me, for being my friend, for giving me hope."

She smiled into his chest. "You're welcome."

They stood together, just holding each other and drinking in the others' presence. The once tense and uneasy air was now dissipated and all that was left was a calm flow of energy from one person to the other. Until, without warning, the door to the apartment swung open and bashed Richard in the back.

Richard yelped in a mixture of pain and surprise as Annie burst in and headed straight up to Caroline's loft, seemingly oblivious to either of the people standing next to the door she'd just flung open. Richard rubbed his back gently and glared up the stairs after the recalcitrant neighbor. After a minute or two, she returned with an armload of Caroline's clothes.

"Oh, hi, Caroline," she said cheerfully when she saw Caroline at the foot of the stairs. "Mind if I borrow these?" Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "Hey Richie."

Caroline gestured with an upward motion of her hand. "No, go ahead."

"Thanks. You're a doll. Got a date later, see ya."

With that, she breezed out the door but was halted by a holler from her apartment that caused her to drop the clothes on the floor.

"ANNIE! Bring over another pot! There's not enough room in this one for the Rotini!"

Annie turned back and looked at Caroline sheepishly. "Oh, go ahead," said Caroline.

Annie shuffled over to the cabinets and pulled out a large pot and shuffled back into the hall. "Thanks Caroline," she called over her shoulder. "Continue what you were doing. Pretend I was never here." She pulled the door shut with a bang and was gone.

Richard looked at Caroline and they shared a laugh. The mood had been broken, but it only served as a relief to them both as they realized how bad Annie had it. She still lived with her mother, for God's sake!

The End

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