OLD FLAME

BY QUASI9



Disclaimer: I don't own Frank Donovan or the team; the rest of the characters are mine.

Rating: R

Summary: Chris returns (sequel to Frank's Match)

Feedback: yes Quasi9@msn.com

As soon as Sal and Frank stepped into the emergency room, everyone wanted to know what was going on. Frank took control and explained to everyone Chris's condition.

Joey looked at Frank, "Are you happy? She could die or worst be a vegetable because of your arrogance."

Again Frank was not answering, to defuse the tension between them. Joey pushed on, "You don't give a damn about her and never did."

Frank's patience was wearing thin with Joey, Sal could see this and said, "Joey, now's not the time to point fingers. I'm sure everyone in this room is praying for a positive recovery. We need to get Frankie and leave until the doctor calls us with good news."

Reluctantly, Joey backed down and Monica handed Frankie to him. Sal, Max, Joey, and Frankie left. Monica and Cody left right behind them. Frank, Jake, and Alex were the only ones left.

Alex said, "Would you like us to drive you home and stay a while?"

Frank said, "No, just get me back to my car, I want to be alone."

Alex said, "I don't mean to pry, but shouldn't you call Michelle? Or would you rather we did it?"

"Neither, I can take care my own affairs." By the tone of his voice, Alex knew it was time to leave it alone. They left to take Frank back to the warehouse to get his car.

When Frank arrived home, he didn't bother to turn any lights on as he entered. He went straight to the kitchen to where he kept the liquor. He had not felt the need to take a drink in a long time. He was quite satisfied with beer, but tonight he would need something stronger to help him push away the demons. As he poured his drink, he flipped the light on, and turned around to exit the kitchen when he saw the envelope.

He picked it up and recognized Michelle's handwriting, he could not bring himself to deal with it tonight. He laid it back on the counter for another time and went in the living area to sit on the couch.

Though the fog in his head, he heard his cell phone ringing, he didn't remember how many drinks he poured himself the night before and how he ended up in bed. When he finally answered it, he sound like death warmed over.

"Donovan." He whispered.

"Is this a bad time for you?" Dr. Levy asked.

"Depends who's calling."

"Dr. Levy."

Immediately Frank became wide awake, at least enough to comprehend an intelligent conversation. "How's Chris?"

"She has made progress, but she is still not out of the woods yet."

"Can you put that in plain English, my head is pounding."

"Drunk yourself in a stupor, last night did ya?"

"Just tell me!" Frank yelled.

"Her swelling has gone done considerably, the doctor feels that by noon she should have release all the swelling. But she is not breathing on her own and has regained conscious."

"So what's the next step?"

"Once, the swelling goes down, then we will have a team standing by to assist us when we remove the tube for her to breathe on her own. At that point, we will have to wait and see when she decides to 'wake up" so to speak."

"Can I see her?"

"No, she is not where we want her to be, before seeing or hearing anyone. In your case, it may be weeks before you get to see her."

"I guess I don't have a choice." "We all have choices, but you and Chris have made some bad ones, and unfortunately she is the one that has gotten the short end of the stick. I need to make sure what little stick she has, that it is productive."

"I don't agree with it but I do understand. I only want the best for Chris, I always have." He hung up the phone.