Caroline and the Unfortunate Circumstance
Chapter Three: A Friend In Need
By S. Arallion
Disclaimer: All characters in this story are owned by their respective copyright holders—namely, not myself. Anything you don't recognize is my fault. I make absolutely no profit from my use of these characters. ~~Arallion
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"Annie, it's four o'clock! What are you still doing here?" Richard stopped in the aseptic hospital hallway. "Everything's still all right, isn't it?"
"Oh, everything's fine as it can be," Annie hastened to say, seeing concern flash into the artist's blue eyes. "It's just that every time she wakes up, she complains about something or other and asks for anyone who isn't there. Well, you, mostly," she shrugged slyly. "But I'm sure that's just because you haven't been here all day."
"Is she awake now?"
"I don't think so," Annie demurred. "You can go in, though. Del's here too."
They went back to the little room together, and peered through the window at their friend. Her short red-gold hair was clean and brushed, and the bruises and cuts on her face looked less menacing under bandages. Annie sneaked a look at Richard and chuckled. "Oh, Richie, you are so pathetic," she cooed, thumping him on the arm.
"Ouch." He glared at her, but she was too busy smirking. "Not now, Annie. I'm just worried. Leave it alone."
"Right. And you spent all afternoon cleaning Caroline's apartment because why?"
He looked at her in annoyance. "How do you know that?"
She flipped her hand in dismissal. "I can smell those awful organic cleansers that she uses. How did you figure out how to use those, anyway? I would have just gone down and bought some Lysol."
Richard sighed. "I almost did. I'll be right back..."
Annie yelled after him, "Don't bother, the smell doesn't wash off..." but he wasn't headed to the restroom. He stopped at the nurses' station, showing the nurse on duty something. Receiving a nod, he sauntered back.
"Richard, you're being cryptic," Annie said suspiciously. "What was that?"
"Hey, there's another word you shouldn't know. Are you taking classes?" he dodged.
She bared her teeth at him. "You just don't know me that well...so what was that?"
"Don't you have a rehearsal to be at sometime?"
"Not for another two hours. So... " They entered the room, where Del looked up at them curiously.
"Hi, guys. Hey, Annie, I thought you were taking off...?"
"Nah. It's not like I have to be in costume or anything. Anyway, if she wakes up on schedule, it would be nice to have us all here so she doesn't have to whine about the person who isn't...."
Del grinned. "Yeah, it's about time you got here, Richard." His voice lowered. "Julia stopped by, too."
"Did she."
The flat tone made Del blink and exchange a quick look with Annie. "Wow, that's not quite the reaction I expected..."
Richard shook his head and took a deep breath. "Sorry. I've just been trying not to think about the part she had in what happened last night. And other times... probably more than I'm aware of." He looked sorrowfully at Annie. "You could have told me, I'm sure."
Annie shrugged. "It's your life."
He stared at her for a moment, and then a corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile. "Since when?"
"Ohhh..." came a moan from the hospital bed. All three of them leaped up, but in an unspoken accord, no one moved towards the bed. "Hello....hello? Is anybody here...?" The voice was a little hoarse, but getting stronger.
"Hey, Duff," said Del softly, finally breaking their silence. "We're all here. We've been waiting for you to join the party."
"Wow, a party... and me without my good shoes," Caroline murmured, in a distinctly Richard-like tone. Del and Annie exchanged knowing glances. Richard closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing hard.
"Good afternoon, Caroline," he managed finally, stepping up to the bedside table.
Her eyes widened and her lips curved into a wistful smile. "Richard, you're all right. I had this horrible dream..." The look on her face threatened to completely unsettle him, so he put up a hand to forestall her.
"I'm fine, Caroline. I brought something for you...." he began pulling a paper sack out of his voluminous coat pocket.
"Oh really? What? Better than my good shoes?" Caroline shared a wink with Annie. "Oh my gosh... Ginger ale. It really is better than my good shoes..." She looked at the bottle longingly. "Did they say I could have this?"
Richard looked slightly embarrassed as Del smilingly produced a bottle opener on his keychain. "Nurse's orders, actually. I heard you'd been begging for it all day, and they were almost to the point of actually paying me to get it for you."
Caroline held the bottle reverently in bandaged hands. "Well, thank you for not holding out any longer. For that matter, I'll pay you for getting this...." She was tired, though, and could only manage to take a few sips before her grey eyes lost focus. Shaking herself awake, she squinted at Annie in concern. "Hey, Annie, weren't you going to meet that producer guy before rehearsal?"
Annie looked at Del's watch in panic. "Oh, no. Sorry, Caroline. I'll be back tonight, okay?"
"Okay," came the quiet response. Annie grabbed Richard's hand, to his surprise, and shot him a grateful look. "That's the best she's sounded all day," she whispered, and then dashed out the door.
Del shook his head, smiling. "Annie," he pronounced solemnly, "is weird." He went back to the chair to pick up his magazine.
"Del!" Caroline exclaimed in a fading voice, still smiling. "What a horrible thing to say. Even if it is true, " she added after a moment.
"Here, let me take that before you drop it," Richard murmured, as Caroline's grip on the ginger ale slackened. She looked at him gratefully, but he was avoiding her eyes as he set the bottle on the table.
"Richard..." she murmured, reaching for his hand. He hesitated, but then reached to grasp hers. Unconsciously, his fingers gently traced across her knuckles. "Richard, promise me you won't not be home at 3 in the morning anymore, okay?"
The artist's eyebrows raised slightly, and not just because of the double negative. "What do you mean, exactly? Caroline, I was home... I was painting. Well, sleeping and painting," he amended guiltily.
Caroline's head shook slightly in negation. "No, you were out. Julia said you were out.... And it's not safe, you had me so worried...." Richard closed his eyes again, this time in angry realization.
"Caroline, you should go back to sleep. I'll have this put aside for you." He patted her hand and drew away, but she clutched at him in panic.
Her eyes were unfocused, returning to the dazed look of the night before. "Richard, you're not going away again, are you? Don't go away, please. I won't be able to send my strips in unless you're there to color them in..." she whispered.
"I'm not going anywhere except down to the nurses' station to put this in the fridge," he replied in a reassuring tone, despite the sinking feeling in his heart. "When you wake up, I'll be here."
The grey eyes searched his for a moment, but finally fluttered closed. Richard picked up the bottle and stepped to the door, meeting Del's gaze for a moment. Strangely, Del was still smiling, a little sadly, but still smiling. The artist sighed and went out, hoping to find aspirin at the nurses' station as well....
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Del finished his magazine article and looked up at the clock, surprised. It had been quite a while, and Richard hadn't returned. He didn't remember hearing Caroline's acerbic colorist mention leaving for any reason, and felt a little twinge of worry. Getting up, he decided to take a little walk to stretch his legs, and perhaps keep an eye out for Richard on the way.
He found the artist in the restroom. As soon as he entered, the water came on, and he saw Richard scrubbing his long hands with soap, an annoyed look on his face but his eyes suspiciously red. "Don't bother, the smell of those cleaners doesn't come off," Del said placidly, trying to find someplace to start the conversation.
Richard stared down at his fingernails distastefully. "I noticed. You know, turpentine smells a lot worse than this, but it's never made me consider pulling off my own skin before." With a shrug, he grabbed a paper towel and dried them, surreptitiously wiping his face as well.
"Richard, I need to talk to you," Del said quietly. The artist froze for a moment, then slowly turned back around to look at him, blue eyes shadowed. "I don't know what happened last night, between you, Caroline and Julia, but whatever it was, it really has you shaken up."
Richard ran a hand through his blond hair distractedly. "Del, I would say we're all a little shaken up, wouldn't you?" He moved to step out the door.
Del put a restraining hand on his arm. "Hey, give me a little credit here. I can see when something's up. Well, that, and Julia's been here six times today wanting to know where you were, whether Caroline was awake yet, and if she'd said anything about last night."
"You mentioned that before. You didn't let her in, did you?" The look was sharp, worried.
"No, of course not." Del snorted. "But that's just me, not liking Julia. Why wouldn't you trust her?" Richard groaned as he felt himself landing neatly in the trap.
"Del, I'd really rather not talk about it." When Del didn't budge, he sighed and gave up. "Look, the reason Julia has been in and out today is that she's trying to find out if I know yet that she lied to me about what she told Caroline. I've just been squarely pummeled with the fact that the woman I married is catty, conniving, and untrustworthy, and I have to figure out what I'm going to do about it. So, yes, I'm a bit shaken, and no, I actually don't want her around myself or any of my friends until I know what's going on." The artist stared into Del's face with a defeated look. "If this sort of thing has been going on all this time without my knowledge, this whole mess could be at least partially my fault."
Del stared back at him, worried. "Richard, the only person to blame here is the rapist, so don't even think that!"
A flicker of anger showed in the blue eyes. "For the physical aspect, perhaps. But what about what led her into the situation in the first place? What if something was going on that could have been prevented, if I'd only seen it, or been allowed to see it, coming?"
"But that's so indirect," Del protested. "And a lot of 'what-if's'!"
The flicker turned inward and faded into a look of misery. "I know. I can't help it, though."
Del watched the tall, rangy figure next to him. He knew there wasn't a thing he could say, but he could tell when someone was holding on to the ragged edge. Something had to be done. "Richard, I think you should talk to Caroline when she wakes up. She needs to know these things. I think she'd like to know that you care, too." He got a surprised look on his face. "Well, whad'd'ya know, I think I learned something from her."
Richard's eyebrows shot up as a sarcastic reply came to his lips, but instead he sighed and continued out the door.
"Wow," Del muttered. "You really do need some help."
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When Caroline awoke the next time, her room was darkened. A beam of moonlight from the window slid across her blanket... it must have stopped raining. She sat up slowly in the bed, careful not to disturb, or even look at, the i.v. in her arm.
She could just make out an uneven outline on the couch against the wall. The nurses must have let someone stay with her. Probably Annie, she thought. No, the hair was too light, and the form too bulky. Del then. It couldn't have been Richard-- Julia would never have allowed that. She hesitated to call out and wake him, but she was awfully thirsty. And lonely, and scared, she admitted grudgingly. "Del?"
The form shifted, with a slight yelp of pain. "Caroline?" The moonlight flashed across round lenses as one long hand chased the wire frames across the lamp-stand.
Caroline gasped. "Richard? I thought you were Del. I'm so sorry to wake you..."
The dry chuckle made her grin. "Oh, so you wouldn't have minded waking Del? Hmm. I don't know whether to feel complimented or unwanted..."
"No, no, no, you're wanted," she hastily assured him, and then blushed; glad the moon was not shining on her face.
"Thanks for clearing that up," came the subdued reply, as the figure sat up slowly on the couch. "Oh, these things are not comfortable. It's probably best that I'm moving around... I might have needed to be put in traction by morning. Want anything else, while I'm awake?"
She looked at him wistfully, secure in the darkness. "Did you happen to save that ginger ale you brought for me earlier?"
"Are you kidding, that was a perfectly good bottle of ginger ale. Be right back." He stood up and slipped out the door. Caroline tried to pinch herself awake in the meantime, in sheer terror that she would blurt out something to embarrass them both.
When Richard came back with the ginger ale, she felt much calmer. He switched on the lamp to the lowest setting, enough so that she could see to drink and talk to him. She took the cold ginger ale from his hand gratefully, smiling at his ruffled appearance. "Why, Richard, you look like you just woke up."
His eyes darted to hers for just a moment. A corner of his mouth turned up. "What an astute observation-- I think you're feeling better. You are feeling better?" The dry tone turned to concern swiftly enough that she realized how thin his veneer of humor really was.
"Yes, I'm much better, Richard," she assured him again, trying to sound like it.
He looked at her very directly. "I wouldn't go that far," he snorted. She shrugged ruefully.
The sad little smile on her bruised face caused him to choke back all the questions he wanted to have answered, and all the apologies he wanted to make. It's not the time, he berated himself furiously. There would be plenty of time to deal with what needed dealing with. Later. "So, have they been treating you well?"
She grinned suddenly. "Well enough, although until you came, I wasn't getting any better. Trust you to remember that this," she held up the bottle, "is the only thing that ever helps."
Richard's glasses came off again, and he scrubbed at his face vigorously. His tone became deceptively light. "Hmm... well, you did make it quite memorable the last time. Remember the post-it on Salty's tail?"
"OH!" Caroline's eyes widened. "Salty... did somebody feed Salty today? Oh, my poor baby..."
"Don't worry, I fed her, and gave her fresh water," Richard interrupted hastily, spreading his hands in a placating gesture. Caroline looked at him in amazement.
"You did? But, you swore you would never take care of 'the beast' without double pay..."
Her colorist shrugged uncomfortably. "It's a special situation. Besides, I was there, and no one else was. Oh, and by the way, you don't have to work for a while, until you feel up to it. I turned in a batch of those emergency strips we did together a few months back."
"Emergency strips..." Her eyes widened. "Oh, I remember those! I thought we'd used all those already.... rats, and now I'm going to be out of sequence. What will people think?" She sighed fretfully. Richard's blue eyes met hers as he patted her hand soothingly.
"I had the editor put a disclaimer in your strip so there wouldn't be any confusion on the part of your readers. You'll be able to pick up right where you left off. As long as you don't mind getting a heap of well-wisher cards every day in your mailbox," he amended thoughtfully.
Caroline was lost in shock. "Richard, you're taking care of everything for me. How... why... oh, never mind," she stumbled over her thoughts. "Thank you, so much."
"You're welcome," came the soft reply.
"I'll bet this is the first time you've slept in the last day or so," she suddenly realized. "Now I really am sorry I woke you up. Go ahead and go back to sleep. Turn out the light. I'll be fine."
Richard finally noticed that he hadn't removed his hand from Caroline's yet, but she hadn't seemed to mind. A little nervously, he let it be. "Caroline, I'm an artist. I'm used to ridiculous hours. If you want to sleep, I'll turn out the light, but I'll be awake anyway, so..."
She looked down at her hands, and covered his with hers, effectively trapping it. "Well, if you'll be awake anyway, then...." she hesitated for a long moment, not looking up.
He hauled a chair over to the bed with one arm. "Do you want to talk?" he questioned carefully. "I think you should know, I'm not the best person to talk to about this, but since I'm here, I'll try."
Caroline exhaled softly. "Richard, you don't give yourself enough credit."
"Neither do the banks, but I suppose they have a reason..." His cynical quip made her laugh, but she sobered quickly.
"Richard, I am so sorry about everything that happened last night. I mean, the dinner fiasco, and bothering you--"
"Bothering me?" Richard interrupted. "Now you sound like you've been talking to Julia. Stop it."
"I have been talking to Julia," Caroline muttered unhappily.
"Well, ignore that. If you bother me, I'll tell you."
"I know," she whispered. "But, why wouldn't you be bothered? After all, she's right. I do 'need' you too much."
The blue eyes locked with hers, dismayed. "Do you honestly think that?" Richard blurted before he could stop himself.
"Well, you do have a life outside of work, after all. And I keep butting in. I guess I tend to forget that I'm really just your boss."
The hand she was holding slackened its grip, and Richard's face turned white. "No. Caroline..." He dropped his head again. "I'd like to think that I've been your friend, too. Maybe I'm not very good at it, but then, I don't have much practice. And," he continued softly, "it's rather nice to be 'needed'."
Caroline reached to touch his hair gently. "Richard, you are a good friend. I do wonder if I take advantage of that, though, when I'm feeling lonely. Please, don't feel like you have to be there for me all the time."
"Well, I wasn't, was I?" came the predictable retort.
"Oh, stop it, Richard. I invited my own trouble inside last night, and I took the consequences, I suppose." She thought her tone was neutral enough, but Richard's head jerked up in wild surmise.
"So it was him. I knew I should have taken you home. It would have made sense-- we live closer to you than he does. I knew something was wrong." His stricken expression made her cringe.
"NO! I mean, stop it Richard, or I'm going to have to get up and shake sense into you," she gasped. "I won't let you blame yourself for my state of mind last night. I made my choice, and it turned out to be a bad one."
She was shaking, now, and Richard grasped her hands tightly, concerned, and furious with himself for reacting so strongly. "Caroline, you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to. I'm sorry to have pushed you. I just couldn't bear-- oh, never mind." He tipped her chin up with a finger and gave her a rueful half-smile. "With all of that apologizing, you were starting to remind me of someone else we know."
"Thank you, Richard," she murmured as he draped an arm over her shoulder and gently hugged her. She leaned against him, pressing her head against his warm chest. His heart beat quickly through the soft black cotton of his shirt, and she clung to him for as long as she dared, enjoying this contact that she knew he normally avoided. When she felt his hands began to tremble, she finally let go. "I think I can sleep now. Good night."
"Good night, Caroline," came the strangely hushed reply. The light was swiftly turned out. "Sleep well."
As he settled back onto the couch in the darkened room, the wistful smile crept back to her face. Perhaps things would be all right, after all.
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To be continued…
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Author's Note: Calamity strikes and true friends—and loves—shine through. Okay, it's a bit of a romantic notion. But hey, this is fiction, to heck with reality once in a while. J ~~Arallion