By
Tru False
Chapter 14Before the door was even fully closed behind her, Terry already had her cell phone out and was calling David. She kicked herself for not thinking the situation through beforehand…other people were in shock, but she had no excuse. She was supposed to be here to help—not to stand there like an idiot while bad situations unfolded before her.
"David," she said into the phone when he answered on the second ring, "I'm sorry to bug you—I know you're off already, but there's been an incident…no, he's fine but it's Charlie…yeah, I know—hey, listen, I need you to do me a favor and grab some clothes and bring them down here. Yeah, for Don—his are…no good," she finished lamely. "Right…yeah, thanks David—and the sooner the better on those clothes, okay? Great—thanks," she made to flip her phone shut but the sound of David's voice stopped her. "What? Oh, sorry. Cedars. Okay." She closed her phone and mentally shook herself again…she needed to get it together.
Terry turned her attention then to finding Alan, fully expecting to see him hunched over a trashcan somewhere. She was surprised to instead find him at the nurse's station, apparently checking up on Charlie as he has said he would.
"Hey," she said softly as she came to stand next to him.
He turned to look at her, "Oh, Terry—hi," he said as he leaned in and gave her a quick hug. "I'm sorry, I didn't even notice you were here. My mind's…" he waved his hand.
"It's fine Mr. Eppes," she replied, embarrassed that he would even feel the need to apologize to her. "We were worried about you. Are you okay?"
He shook his head. "They don't know anything—or at least they won't say," he replied, clearly frustrated. Terry looked to where two nurses were chatting animatedly at the back of the station, as if the world hadn't just been knocked off its axis three hours ago.
"I'd better get back to Don," he announced and made to start back that way.
"Mr. Eppes," Terry interrupted him, "wait just a second."
He paused.
"I just called David Sinclair, and he's bringing some clothes for Don."
"Okay," Alan replied, seeming unsure of her point.
"I think it might be better if you waited until he got here before you go back in," she explained.
He shook his head at her briefly, indicating that he didn't understand.
"I think that it was hard for Don to see you so…distressed," she continued, "I think it would be better if he got cleaned up before you saw him again."
She watched Alan's eyes move back and forth as he replayed the scene in his head.
"Oh," Alan replied when he finally understood what she was getting at, "That's why you came out here? Terry, it's not the blood," he began, but then nodded his head to the side in admission, "well, it is the blood, of course, but not really the way you think."
She waited him out. "It just…" he searched for the words, "made me realize what they'd been though. Both of them. As a parent, you never want your child to go through that kind of trauma. I just needed a minute to process it."
"Well, I think Don took it a little more personally than that," Terry offered gently.
"Yes, I suppose he would," Alan responded quietly. He was quiet for a moment. "It's good that you can do that," he said eventually.
"What?" she asked.
"Read Don."
"It's my job to read people," she replied, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"That may be, but it's difficult to read Don."
"I know," she responded quietly, taking a sudden interest in the floor.
Alan looked towards the exam room and then up at the clock on the wall. "How long do you think it will be before David gets here?"
"Ten minutes."
He nodded at her. "You'll go back and wait with him?"
"Of course," she replied and started to leave.
"Terry," Alan called after her. She turned back to him. "Thank you," he said seriously.
The way he said it reminded her of Don, as if these were not words to be thrown around often or lightly. She smiled and gave him a quick nod before starting off again. "Oh, and Terry?" She turned back once more. "I think you've known our family long enough now that you can call me Alan."
She smiled at him. "Okay Mr. Eppes."
If the situation hadn't been so grave, he would have laughed. He watched her go, realizing yet again how important she must be to Don, and felt thankful that his son had someone like her in his life—even if it was only in a professional capacity.
It was more difficult than Alan had anticipated to wait outside, and he was thoroughly relieved when David showed up just six and a half minutes later. He quickly thanked him for coming and directed him to Don's exam room. Then he reluctantly sat back down again, realizing he would still need to wait for someone to emerge and give him the all clear. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself. His chest felt tight from all the worry wrapped around it. He needed answers, and he needed to see his boys…both of them…and soon.
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David knocked and waited a moment before entering. He opened the door to find Don sitting on the table with his hand and half his arm in a cast, and Terry—of course— standing beside him.
"Hey, man" David said quietly as he let the door fall shut behind him. Don looked up at him, and David almost froze in surprise. He had never seen Don look like that, wouldn't have even thought that he could look like that. He looked as if he'd been through a war. It was a completely different person from the man who had lead the eight o'clock meeting that morning…this guy had been to Hell and back.
"Thanks for bringing those," Terry said, forcing David to snap back to reality.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Here you go." He walked over and handed them to Don. "No problem."
He paused for a moment before Don, as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure what. "You alright man?" he asked finally.
Don nodded briefly at him but didn't say anything, and he still had that terrible shell-shocked look about him.
"We'll let you change," Terry offered, indicating to David that they should leave the room.
"Yeah," David agreed, forcing his eyes away from Don. He knew he was staring like an idiot, but he just couldn't get over the way he looked. Terry grabbed his arm, gently urging him along.
"Hey, Don," he added then, pausing against Terry's grip momentarily, "I'm sorry". He didn't even know what had happened, but clearly it was just about the worst thing imaginable. He wondered if maybe Charlie had died.
Don nodded once in acknowledgement and turned away from them to start changing. Terry paused momentarily as David stepped out through the doorway. "You need any help?"
Don gave no response, which she took as a no and stepped out to join David.
"What happened?" David asked as soon as the door closed.
Terry shook her head at him. "It was bad."
"Charlie?" he asked.
"He took two rounds…one in the chest. I know he had a punctured lung; I'm not sure what else." She was quiet for a moment. "In the end, he had to do CPR," she added, staring off into the distance.
"So all that," he waved his hand up and down over his clothes, "on Don…that was…"
"Charlie's, yeah," she said quietly.
"What the Hell happened?" David asked, "You were just going to interview Randall."
She looked at him then, and suddenly her eyes were shining brightly. "I know," she said in a small voice.