The Long Way Home
By
E. S. Young
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Big Dance Number
Next-to-last chapter, gang!
Sands: At last. 9.9
Sidney: -.e Once again, I can't believe how long this thing is –
Sands: Neither can I, so get a move on and end it.
Sidney: (cheerfully ignoring him) Please, pay no attention to that irritating buzzing sound in the background. There is a violent storm raging where I am right now and I am SURE it's messing up the communications. -.9
Sands: u. ;
Sidney: Enjoy the second-to-last chapter, guys! =D
- - -
Sands woke up stiff, having slept on the couch the other night. The fact that he had been sleeping upright didn't help. The sudden crack startled him but not visibly. It reminded him of the sound of bones creaking after they had stayed in an uncomfortable position for a long period of time. He didn't know why he'd thought of that, but that's what came to mind. Turning his head towards the noise, Sands listened intently.
"Ah . . . I'm not doin' that again . . ." Lynné muttered next to him, looking pained as she massaged the back of her neck.
"At least you got the couch," Liam pointed out as he rolled his sore shoulders. "That floor's horrible."
"Oh, don't complain." Lyn waved him off, bending her neck back and fourth and side to side. "That's probably the first floor you've ever slept on."
Liam raised a questioning eyebrow at her.
"You've slept on floors before?"
"You'd be surprised how many floors I've slept on," Lyn smirked.
"I could say something about that," Sands put in, "but I think it'd be too predictable."
"Plus, we don't have time," Grace said, striding out of the bathroom, her blonde hair expertly styled.
"Oh, that's right," Liam realized, something dawning on him, "we're supposed to meet Adam at ten."
Absentmindedly, Lynné glanced at the little clock the hotel had set on the coffee table to make the hotel room look more homey. Noticing the time, her expression turned to shock, which quickly changed into fury. Storming up to Liam, anger ablaze in her dark eyes, she swatted her partner on the shoulder in frustration.
"What did I say about letting me sleep in!?"
- - -
Sands sighed. He had to meet with Doctor Fusco once again to make a final check on how he was doing and to give him a run-through of what was going to happen during the surgery.
"You still won't be able to see for about a week afterwards," Adam explained, "but after at least a month you should be able to identify both large and small objects. So, in a maximum of six months, you'll have made a full recovery–"
"Except for the fact that I'll have to wear glasses and/or contact lenses for the rest of my life," Sands interrupted dully, sounding as though he had read the words out of a text book one too many times.
"And you won't be wearing contacts until a month later at the least," Doctor Fusco told him sternly. "I won't allow it."
Sands eyebrows arched.
"Really?" he inquired, gazing imploringly up at the doctor.
"Yes," Lynné said matter-of-factly, "and if he doesn't, you know I will."
"And if she forgets, I'll remind you," Grace added severely, her eyes narrowed.
"Well," Adam cut in, "now that that's . . . settled . . . let's get you into some hospital robes –"
"Oh Christ . . ." Sands muttered.
"– and I'll be back with a wheelchair and then we can get started," Adam finished brightly, trying to lighten the mood and failing miserably. At these words, Sands gave him an incredulous 'What-the-fuck?' expression. Ignoring him, the doctor twisted the doorknob of his office door, and exited the scene.
- - -
"Do I have to ride in a wheelchair?" Sands complained as Liam wheeled him down the hallways of the hospital to the elevators. "Doctor Liam's Brother knows I'm capable of walking on my own."
Unlike SOME people, the voice sniffed at Lyn, who glared visibly.
'Watch it . . .'
"I don't know why he wanted you wheeled up," Grace said soothingly, "but most patients DO ride in wheelchairs before they go into the OR. Doctor's just want you to save your energy, I guess."
"My stepsister, the doctor," Sands muttered, thinking that, with any luck, he would be able to roll his eyes whenever he made his smart remarks in the future.
"I'm a pediatrician, Sands," Grace corrected, irked. "Asking questions of someone who has never worked in a hospital will get you nowhere."
"Elevator," Liam announced suddenly. He was surprised when his fellow agents and said agents' stepsister all made identical faces of dislike.
"I take it I'm not the only one who hates elevators now, too?" he asked tentatively.
None of them answered him. Lyn and Grace simply strode past him, each looking like they would rather be anywhere else, and stepped into the elevator. Sands was gripping the arms of his mobile chair tightly when Liam wheeled him in after the two women.
Wincing all the while, Liam slowly reached out and pressed the button marked with a '5' on the keypad of the elevator. A sudden lurch and a whirring noise let them know that their elevator was about to move.
Liam twitched nervously, his eyes wide and alert.
'Final Destination II, Final Destination II, Final Destination II . . .' he thought wildly.
Grace kept wringing her hands together and glancing around the chrome elevator nervously. She decided it best not to mention to anyone that she was claustrophobic until after they had stepped outside.
'Why couldn't they have built wheelchair ramps?' Lynné thought angrily, 'We could've taken one of those to the fifth floor instead of waiting to see if the cord will break on THIS thing and we'll all go plummeting to our deaths . . . '
Sands remained silent in his chair, his head decidedly pointing downward. He jumped slightly when he felt something brush his arm. It took a moment to realize that, behind him, Lyn's arm had shot out and she was now gripping his hand gently.
'Did I do that for my own comfort? Or was it for his?' she thought, confused.
I can't believe YOU'RE asking either of those questions, the voice mused faintly
Lyn didn't reply but squeezed Sands' hand tighter when she felt the elevator slow down, closing her eyes in a grimace as she did so.
'Damn these things . . .'
"Okay, we're here."
"Thank you, Fusco. I never would've guessed." Though Sands' words were dripping with sarcasm, Lynné knew she would be wrong in thinking he wasn't perturbed by the operation at all. He was just as anxious as she was, and the fact that he did not release her hand until they had reached the operating room proved it.
"We're just about ready," Adam said when he looked up and saw them. "I just have to run a double check to make sure everything's going smoothly. Now, you three will have to leave once we begin," he added, looking pointedly at Liam, Grace, and Lyn, "but you can have a few minutes alone with him while we set up."
Liam nodded while the other three said nothing. It was after Adam had departed that anyone made a move. Sands reached out and took Lyn's hand very cautiously. Neither Liam nor Grace said anything, though perhaps they were too caught up in their own worries to notice. But it seemed more likely that they understood, somewhat, how the two were feeling and knew that they needed a moment.
Sands said nothing during their wait that seemed to be endless, but held on to Lynné's hand, absentmindedly running his thumb over the silver band she wore on her ring finger . . . the one that had collided with the face of Agent Baronn who was no more. He thought vaguely that Lyn's bruises must have healed by now . . . it seemed like it had happened ages ago . . .
Upon his return, Doctor Adam Fusco noted that neither his brother, nor his patient, nor both of the women seemed to have said anything during the time of his absence. This struck him as strange. Family and friends had surrounded every person he had ever seen before they went into the OR and all of them had been talking, making optimistic comments, and wishing the patient luck.
These people were different, however. They weren't saying anything to Sands or each other. In fact, none of them seemed to have moved at all while he had been gone. They were all staring off into space silently, save for Sands. He had his line of vision turned to the ground even though he couldn't see.
Nervously, Adam cleared his throat to get the attention of the gloomy quartet in front of him.
"Everything's ready," he said quietly.
To Grace, the words must have seemed like a death sentence right then and there. Tears once again beginning to form, she swooped down on Sands and gave him a brief kiss on both of his cheeks. Pulling away, she looked at him and then turned her gaze to Lynné and Liam. The latter swallowed hard before reaching out and clapping Sands on the shoulder.
"Good luck," he murmured, though his voice was less than positive.
Sands only nodded once in understanding. The very thought of the surgery drained him of any sharp-tongued comments he might have had. No one said anything, but Grace, Liam, and Adam looked expectantly at Lyn, who in turn gazed at the blue and white tiled floor. She sighed; her inner voice sighed. She had to say something now; the next time she saw Sands it might be too late, and Doctor Liam's Brother was not going to wait forever.
Silently, she moved in front of the wheelchair and bent down so she could be at eye-level with her brother. Time passed without the two exchanging words, but then, with a small smile, Lynné reached out and placed a gentle hand on Sands arm.
Sands jerked his head upward, towards the his sister. He wanted to tell her . . . he had to tell her how grateful he was to have her as his sibling. Anyone could have come along and picked him up off of the dusty Cullican streets on the Day of the Dead . . . the CIA, the cartel, maybe even the family members of the kid who had helped him . . . but Lynné had been the one to find him. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way. She meant something to him, she always had even when he had hated her when he was young and deluded. Lyn was his family, his REAL family. She was all he had and the thought that this may be the last chance he would ever se – hear her . . . .
'Tell her. Just tell her, dumbass – say something . . .'
You can't the voice sneered maliciously. You can't because you've never been able to. You're an apathetic, distant asshole, Sheldon, it told him, using the hated first name, That's just the way you are.
Defeated and knowing the voice was right, Sands lowered his head. He thought Lyn had left, that Dr. Fusco was the only person still with him, but something abruptly let him know he was wrong. Lynné was still there. She was right in front of him. He knew this because he heard her when she spoke.
"Hey . . ." she told him softly, ". . . I'll be seeing you."
Before he could say anything that would perhaps make her think otherwise, Sands heard a rustling of a coat as his sister bent over, her hand still resting on his arm, and kissed him softly, lightly on the forehead.
- - -
And that's the end of that chapter! I wanted to do a little more with this but I decided to save it for later. ) Only one more to go, though! At least I think so . . . As I said earlier, it all kinda depends on whether or not I do an extra (glances around conspicuously) bonus chapter! Mwahaha . . . Meh. I dunno. R R!
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