Hello again, everyone! So sorry for the long wait. College life gets in the way sometimes. Life period gets in the way sometimes. But I'm back. As I've said (I don't know how many times before) there will be one more update at the end of this month, then I'll take a month-long break to participate in NaNoWriMo. Wish me luck, maybe I'll actually finish this year!

Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs or any of its affiliated parts. The genius of many hardworking people have gone into it, and I'm not attempting to steal any of their glory--nor am I making any money from this. I have no money anyway. Just a bag of Oreos.

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The waiting room of the hospital was exactly twelve feet by thirty-five feet, and getting smaller all the time. At least, Don thought it was. He counted as he paced, making sure the walls weren't doing what it felt like they were and closing in on him. No, the room's dimensions hadn't changed.

"Donny, sit down." Alan commanded his oldest son. They--Don; David; Alan; Charlie; Terry's parents and sister, nephew, and brother-in-law; and, surprisingly, Terry's ex-husband Rob--had been in the waiting room for nearly eight hours already. Terry's nine-month-old nephew was growing fussy, so Lara, Terry's older sister, had taken him to a smaller, more private room to try to put him to sleep.

Charlie had already gone to sleep, the emotional stress of the day getting to him. He was slumped in a chair, a folder in his right hand, his chin resting on his chest as he snored softly. Don smiled affectionately at his little brother. "His neck is going to kill him when he wakes up." He told his father matter-of-factly.

A white-coated doctor chose that moment to make his entrance. He stood in the doorway and cleared his throat, effectively catching the attention of the room. Every head turned his way and every ear tuned immediately to him. He nodded to each of them in turn, then gestured to an empty chair. "Take a seat, Agent Eppes."

"Do you have any news on Terry?" He asked, ignoring the command for the second time.

"I do." The doctor nodded solemnly. He paused for a few moments, as though gathering his thoughts, before continuing. "And I'm afraid it's not pleasant."

"She didn't…die, did she?" Terry's mother gasped, her shaking hand rising to cover her mouth.

"No. As of right now, she is in critical but stable condition. She lost a lot of blood. It's amazing she survived the trip here, let alone the surgery. Nothing short of a miracle." The doctor shook his head, as though he couldn't quite wrap his mind around Terry's impossible luck.

"So…the bad news?" Rob prodded, and Don resisted the urge to glare at the man. After all, he, too, was here out of concern for Terry's well-being. At any rate, that had better be the reason the man was showing his face.

"I'm afraid she's probably going to lose all use of her right arm, at least for a long period of time. Her entire right shoulder is a mess. She's got a very long and difficult recovery ahead of her. If she makes it through tonight, I'd give her a seventy-five percent chance of survival. However, whether or not she'll ever be ready to work on the field again, I can't say."

Don's chin set. Was that all this man thought Terry was to him? An agent; someone whose only value was what she could contribute to the job? Well, he had news for him--but the doctor was already speaking again.

"I'm afraid visiting is really out of the question, at least for tonight, anyway. She won't wake anyway. My recommendation to all of you is to go home, get some sleep. Come back in the morning. I'll call you the moment anything changes." He offered a hand to Mrs. Lake, who took it in her own shaking one and pulled herself to her feet. She helped her husband to his feet, Alan poked Charlie gently to awaken him, and Don pulled the doctor aside for a moment.

"What are her odds, right now?" He asked quietly, making sure that none of the others in the room could hear him. "I need to know." He continued as the doctor shook his head, indicating that he couldn't say. "Terry's more than my colleague. She--she's my friend, Doctor. Please."

The silvery-headed doctor sighed. "Right now, they're less than favorable, Agent. I'm sorry that you have to hear this so bluntly, but there's not much hope of her making it through the night. And even if she does, she's not going to be the same girl you knew. As I said, she'll not be herself, physically or emotionally, for a very long time."

"Is there anything else you can do for her?"

"Pray. I'd recommend you do the same." The doctor placed a heavy hand on Don's shoulder. "Go home, Agent. There's nothing more you can do here tonight."

Don nodded as though he were listening, but another plan was forming in the back of his mind. He wasn't done for the night. He waited until the doctor had walked away, back to the bowels of some other part of the hospital, before going to his father, "You and Charlie go ahead home. I've got something to take care of, but I'll stop by for a bit later tonight, okay?"

Alan nodded, gently grasping Charlie's arm. "Come on, Charlie."

"Just a minute, Dad. You head on out to the car. I need to talk to Don for a minute, okay?"

Alan shrugged. "Fine, you boys go do your top-secret Agent stuff. I'll be in the car. And Donny…" He placed both hands on his son's shoulders and pulled him in for a quick hug.

"Yes, Dad?" Don asked when his father finally pulled away.

"Never mind. I'll see you in a while." With that, Alan headed for the doors, which he opened for Mrs. Lake and her family to step through. "Don't be too long, Charlie." He warned softly, with a final glance for both his sons.

Charlie waited until they were both alone before speaking, "Look, Don. About what happened today…I'm so sorry. If I had had the sense to wait a little longer…or come earlier, or call, or--"

"Charlie. It's okay. It wasn't your fault. Problems arise every day on the field. Terry is a trained, competent agent. She knows what she's doing…she just slipped up. It happens." Don caught his brother's elbow gently and squeezed to reassure him. "She was worried about you. So was I. I know you feel bad, but remember that none of this is your fault. It happens." After a quick, awkward hug, he released his younger brother completely, "Now go on home. I'll be there in a bit."

"Okay." Charlie gave him an uncomfortable, shy smile before making his way out the doors. Don watched him go, then turned to make his own way out of the waiting room and down a long, empty hall. He met no one along the way, no one appeared, and it seemed almost as though something were lighting his path, making sure he arrived at his destination.

He did so without interruption. He didn't know how he knew which door to push open and which bed was hers, but somehow, he was at the edge of her bed, gazing down at her. Were it not for the bandages that enveloped all of her right arm and the sling that held it in place, the tubes running into her nose to provide air and the ones that brought a morphine drip and IV from overhead bags, and the shocking paleness of her skin, she would have looked no different from any other time he'd ever laid eyes on her. Some thoughtful nurse had even pulled her freshly-washed hair back into two French braids, pinning it neatly out of her face and framing it prettily.

"Oh, Terry…" He whispered, running a finger down the side of her face. "I'm so sorry this had to happen to you. I'm so sorry that I couldn't be there to stop it. I'm so, so sorry…for everything."

Of course, she made no response. Not even a twitch to imply that she'd heard him. Nothing but the steady rise and fall of her chest and the bleep-bleep-bleep of the monitor recording her heart rate implied that she was even alive. He lifted her left hand to his lips, pressed a gentle kiss on its back, and left before his good luck ran out and he was caught here.

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The streets of Los Angeles were surprisingly crowded for 11:30 at night, especially considering how empty they'd been for the last few weeks. News of the sniper's takedown must have traveled fast, Don mused. Odd how everyone was celebrating; he sure didn't feel like partying. He drove through the throng carefully, narrowly avoiding, on several occasions, laughing drunks who stumbled into the streets in front of him either to collapse on the pavement or to empty their bodies of the massive amounts of alcohol they'd consumed. He merely shook his head and waited until the drunk or its friends managed to get it out of the way.

Don randomly punched buttons on the radio, surfing for a station, though he didn't know what he was looking for. With a resigned sigh, he flipped the machine off, listening instead to the silence that filled his car. As he drew up to a red light, he dropped his head into his hands, trying to massage away the impending migraine. But as soon as he let his eyes close, he saw red…crimson pools of blood, Terry's blood, spilling onto the hot Los Angeles pavement as he held her cradled so gently in his arms. He felt again the powerlessness to save her, the knowledge that she was dying and there wasn't anything he could do…

BEEEP! The insufferable blare of a semi truck's horn made the exhausted agent's nerves nearly snap once more. He glanced up and noticed that the light had turned green while he'd been reminiscing, and he eased through the intersection, trying to force the swirling memories to drain away enough for him to focus on the drive back to Charlie's house.

Twelve minutes later, Don stopped for gasoline at a small 24-hour station. As he made his way inside, cash in hand, the droning television in the corner caught his attention, "…this afternoon." An aging reporter in a cheap three-piece suite for Channel 4 News was saying, all smiles. "The suspect, whose name is not being released at this time, was apparently killed at the scene. Agent John Merrick, head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation in our city, is here with me tonight. Tell us, agent, what are your feelings on this night?"

"I cannot begin to express my relief. This case has been especially disturbing and difficult. Many of our best agents have been working around the clock to get to the bottom of this. Consultants, assistants, supervisors, field operatives…everyone's lent such a hand."

"What about the young agent caught in the line of fire this afternoon? Any word on her condition? What happened to her?"

"No news on Agent Lake is being released at the present time. All I'll say right now is that we are all very proud of the bravery of her and all of her fellow agents this afternoon." And that was it. As soon as the discussion of Terry's bravery began, it was over. Don felt his heart constrict at the cruelty of it all. He plunked the money down on the counter, received his change, and ducked back out, headed for the safety of home.

He was surprised to notice when he pulled into the driveway that all the lights in the house were still on. Sighing, he exited the car and made his way into the house, feeling as though he'd aged ten years in the last twelve hours. Opening the door to see Charlie, Amita, and Alan seated around the living room, he offered them a weak smile. "Hey."

"Hey, Donny. How's she looking?" Alan asked softly.

Don's eyes widened, but his father only smiled knowingly. "You think I don't know what it was you had to take care of?"

After a moment of stunned silence, Don shrugged. "She looked strange, hooked up to all those machines. Vulnerable. Tiny. Weak. Very…not Terry." He said, sinking into a chair. "It was like I didn't even know her."

Amita offered him a small smile. "She's still Terry. She'll pull through. She's tough."

Don wished he could believe her, but the doctor's words kept ringing through his mind, "..there's not much hope of her making it through the night." And after seeing her lying, so still, on that bed, he was inclined to believe it. The whole situation looked so hopeless.

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And the next angsty segment is complete. Short, but complete. I love this story, but right now there's just not that much going on. Next chapter is going to be much longer, so you'll at least have that to look forward to. Thanks so much for all your support, everyone!

I'm planning on updating this at the end of this month, one more time, and then there'll be a one-month-long hiatus so I can work on my NaNoWriMo novel. Wish me luck, maybe I'll actually win this year!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

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