Chapter 2
Don did not speak as the trauma surgeon talked to his father.
It did not especially matter to him, what the man said.
He watched his father's face, gray and worried one moment, seeming to lighten into hope the next, and he tried not to resent it. Of course Alan would latch on to whatever hope was offered him. He had not seen it. He had not been there. He would not live the rest of his life with that vision burned onto his brain.
He noticed suddenly that his father was looking at him, smiling, and seemed to be waiting for something. "We have to be fast," Alan said. "Are you coming?"
Don blinked at him. He had no idea what he was talking about. "Wha?" His voice was weak, soft, and Alan frowned again.
"Are you sure they checked you out, son? Maybe they missed something…" Alan turned his head around looking for a doctor, or nurse.
Don pulled himself to his feet. He hadn't realized he was sitting down. "Dad. It's okay." Words, for some reason, were exhausting. "What?", he just repeated, when he had Alan's attention again.
"The doctor said that we can see him, before they take him up, but just for a minute. He's conscious."
Don felt the bile rise in his throat again. "Conscious?"
Alan's gaze was growing in concern. "Yes. Didn't you hear? The doctor said he only received a mild concussion…. Several cuts and bruises, of course, and he's very shaken up…"
Don actually laughed. So loudly that others turned to look at them. So harshly that Alan shuddered. "So what I saw on his…his arm, that's just a few stitches, right?"
Alan suddenly sat down again, pulling Don with him. He grasped Don behind the neck and forced him to look at him. "Yes. That's what the surgery is for. I am so sorry you had to see that – so sorry. Donnie, you have got to pull yourself together. The doctor said the success of this type of operation depends a great deal on a patient's attitude, and his support system. Charlie needs you, Donnie."
Don stared at his father, and slowly, powerfully, pulled away from him. Charlie needed him? For what, to cut his meat for the rest of his life? To watch a lifeless, misshapen mound of flesh bob around on the end of his arm, and pretend he didn't see it?
He stood up abruptly and started down the hall, for the men's room. He was going to throw up again.
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When he came back out, several minutes later, his father was gone and Megan, Larry and Colby were in the section of chairs they had just vacated. Don wobbled unsteadily toward them, and Colby came to meet him. "Your Dad went up with Charlie," he started, looking worriedly at his boss. "We'll go up with you."
They reached the others, who were also standing by this time. Don ignored Larry and looked stonily from Colby to Megan. "Who the hell did this? What happened? Why aren't you working the case?"
Megan tried to soothe him. "David's at the scene. We wanted to check on you and Charlie."
Don frowned at her. "You can't do anything for us here. You'd both do more good at the office."
Larry leapt in, trying to deflect Don. "Don, Alan tells me that Charles has an excellent prognosis. The odds of a successful replantation in cases such as this are very high, especially here at the UCLA Hand Center. I understand that's why Charles was medivaced to this location; the microsurgical and revascularization skills…"
Don turned on him, like a mother bear defending an endangered cub. "Shut-up! Just shut up!" He ran his own hand through his hair. "You didn't see it! None of you saw it!"
Don was practically yelling, and Larry took a step back. Megan adopted her own mother bear look, and Colby quickly stepped between her and Don. "I've seen things like that, Don," he said quietly. "The EMT teams on site are comparing it to a war zone. I saw things in Kuwait that I hope I never see again." He stepped even closer to Don, and spoke lowly. "I also saw amazing things happen there, medically – without the kind of resources Charlie has here. It can happen, Don. It can."
Don held Colby's eyes with his own, desperate to believe, terrified to hope. It wasn't just the hand. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his brother lying broken and literally torn apart on the street, surrounded by bodies…
He spun, suddenly, and took off in a jog for the restroom.
He was going to throw up again.
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After Don had dry heaved for a few minutes – he had long ago run out of any viable contributions to offer the porcelain god – he came out of the stall to face Colby, who silently offered him a damp washcloth and a paper cup of water. Grateful, Don didn't even care where Colby had managed to find them. He sank his face into the cool cloth for a few moments, then took the cup of water and rinsed his mouth a few times, spitting into the sink.
He rose to his full height and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked…shell-shocked. Seeing this first thing when he woke up wouldn't help Charlie, anyway. He turned and looked at Colby. "Give me a ride back to the scene," he ordered.
Colby's surprise registered on his own face. "Your father…", he began.
"My father will be fine. Send Larry up to him. Megan's with us. Our only job right now is to find out what happened at that bank."
Colby stuttered a little. "D-Don, you're technically a vic, here. You shouldn't be working this case, you should stay here with Ch-Charlie."
Don began walking toward the door, brushing past Colby. "You give me a ride to the scene, Agent Granger, or I swear to all that is holy, I will have your badge."
Colby sighed, reached in his pocket and looked at a parking stub. He handed it to Don. "My unit is parked here," he said, resigned. "Let me tell Megan, she came from a witness interview on our other case, so she drove her own vehicle. I'm right behind you." Don nodded curtly, opened the door and took off down the corridor, in the opposite direction from Megan and Larry.
Confused, they glanced at each other and then moved to meet Colby as he approached them. He turned serious eyes to them. "Larry, you should go wait with Alan. He shouldn't be alone."
Larry's hand crept toward his head, and after a tiny scratch, he nodded. "Of course. Should I keep you informed via cell phone?"
Colby and Megan both practically shouted an affirmative answer, and with one last look at Megan, Larry turned and began rapidly walking toward a bank of elevators.
Colby watch him go, and then looked again at Megan, who was staring at him, waiting. "I couldn't talk him down," he admitted. "He wants us all back at the scene." He turned to follow Don, took one step and then turned back to his partner. "Meg, you'd better call Merrick in on this one. I think Eppes is out of control."