Author's Note: Wow! I wasn't expecting such a positive response! Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your lovely reviews!

I hope you continue to enjoy the story!


Part 2

Ed Deline paced the hospital corridor. His muscular shoulders were tense, ready and eager to take on a physical threat, but the frantic energy built up within him had no means of escape.

He came to a stop in front of a pair of red double doors. A hand, aching to be clenched into a fist, reached out and forlornly brushed over them, causing them to swing inward slightly, teasingly. The doctors had taken Danny through these doors towards the operating room.

Ed gave a heavy sigh and let his hand drop. He turned and stared unseeingly back down the corridor.

Hospitals. He hated hospitals.

They were endless mazes of pale corridors and adjoining rooms, curtained off beds and anxious people. Everywhere reeked of disinfectant. Sickness seemed to be a tangible thing, coating everything and drawn in with each breath.

He didn't want Danny in this place.

Ed only had one good memory relating to a hospital – the birth of his daughter. But the joy of that single occasion had been all down to Delinda and nothing to do with the location. Generally, if he was in a hospital, it was on unpleasant terms.

Pain.

Suffering.

Fear.

Misery.

Death.

Not the sort of place he wanted to hang around for hours. Yet, that was exactly what he was doing. And there was no way he was going to leave. As much as he wanted to go back to the Montecito to distract himself with work and pretend everything was fine, he would never abandon Danny.

Cursing softly, Ed drew a hand across his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He would do almost anything to trade places with the kid, to be the one undergoing emergency surgery to have a bullet removed from his chest. It should have been him. Damn that boy!

But there was nothing Big Ed Deline could do. No way for him to help Danny. At a moment when it mattered most, he was powerless. He felt trapped and restless, as if trying to escape an itch. Only it wasn't an itch; it hurt. It hurt, achingly and terribly, to the heart.

Ed took a sharp intake of breath and started off again. He strode down the corridor, passing the row of chairs pushed against the wall where Jillian and Mary sat. Jillian had a magazine open on her lap, but her eyes were on him, watching him, as she sipped a cup of coffee. Alone at the other end of the short line of seats, Mary was slumped listlessly, exhausted by her own fear. Her hands lay clenched in her lap, spots of blood drying where she had chewed her nails down too far earlier. Her eyes were glazed, staring off into nowhere.

He ignored them both.

Reaching the hot drink dispenser, Ed turned and sauntered passed the chairs to the doors again. He barely gave the doors a glance before turning. Then back. And again. And again…

"Eddie, sit down."

He kept pacing, and clenched his jaw. "I can't, Jillian." His voice was controlled, but barely. "I have to do something. I have to find a way to help him."

"There's nothing we can do," his wife told him, gently.

"It should be me in there!" Ed clenched his fist, crumpling the polystyrene cup he held. Cold coffee spilled over his hand. He tossed the split cup away in disgust and it hit the wall, spraying its remaining drops of liquid.

"He's just a kid." Ed stopped in the middle of the corridor. He covered his eyes with a hand, his voice cracking. "A kid, Jillian, just a kid."

"I know, Eddie, I know," Jillian whispered, sadly and sympathetically. She waited a moment, then patted the seat beside her. "Sit down," she softly urged him.

Ed obeyed, as a man lost in grief. Sinking down onto the chair, he turned to his wife and accepted the hand she offered him.

"I wish I hadn't let the police take that son-of-a-"

"Shh." Jillian squeezed his hand, cutting him off.

"Jail isn't enough. I should've…" Ed tore his hand out of his wife's and rubbed his temples furiously. "It was me he was after. That bullet was meant for me!" He spread his hands. "That stupid, goddamned boy! Why'd he have to…" Ed's hands tensed, the fingers curling in at the tips, and then crushing inwards to form fists. "Christ! I shouldn't have let him, I should've seen. Damn it, I should have stopped him!"

"Danny knew what he was doing." Jillian touched his arm. "You would've done the same for him."

"Yes, but that's not the point." Ed rested his head back against the wall. "When I get my hands on that foolhardy kid, I'm gonna kill him!"

Jillian sipped her coffee, letting her husband fume and curse.

After a few minutes Ed fell silent and slowly his eyes slid to the red doors.

"How long has it been?" he asked, quietly.

"One hour and twenty minutes." It wasn't Jillian that answered him, but Mary.

Ed glanced at her in surprise, having forgotten she was there. Mary's head was bent over, her long hair hanging forward and hiding her face. She didn't say anything else.

"Is that a long time?" Jillian whispered to Ed, and he turned back to her. "How long do these things take? It sounds a long time."

"It'll take as long as it takes," Ed deadpanned. "He was in a bad way."

Jillian shifted nervously in her chair. "They would they tell us if…you know. Wouldn't they?"

"Yes," Ed replied, simply.

He felt Mary's eyes on him and he glanced over at her. The young woman looked ready to burst into tears again. Ed reached out and laid a gentle hand on her trembling shoulder.

"He'll be ok," he reassured her.

Mary reached up to pat his hand. "I know. I know." She pressed her lips tightly together and tears silently spilled from her eyes. "He has to be."

She tried to smile, as she opened out a tissue she'd balled up in her hand and dabbed at her eyes.

Ed smiled sadly back, giving the girl's shoulder one last squeeze, and then he shifted back to his wife.

"There's nothing we can do but wait," Jillian said, sorrowfully. "And hope."

Ed nodded, sighing heavily. He stood up and began to pace again.

To Be Continued...


Author's Note 2: Any comments on characterisation would be greatly appreciated. Bits of this chapter were somewhat tricky and it would be nice to know whether I got it right in the end or not. (Any other comments are, of course, also welcome!)