Disclaimer: Logan and Timmy are mine, but that is it.
Sorry it took so long I am sort of at a loss at what to do with this story. But here's Chapter 2:
Waiting in the hospital brought back so many horrible memories. The smell of death was lingering around my nose. The look of fear plastered on my face. I sat slouched in a chair, hiding my tears. I had been crying for the past hour, and the flashbacks were making my head spin. This flashback was different though. I don't know why but it just felt different.
I closed my eyes and when I opened them Tim Speedle Sr. was standing in front of me. His hair was mangled as it was the day he died, and his teeth sparkling white. He was barefoot. He wore dark jeans and a belt. His chest was bare, muscles bulging. He looked exactly the same as he did six years ago, besides the hole that was in his chest.
I reached out to touch him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words could explain what I was thinking at the moment.
"Under the seat of the motorcycle is some money. You're gonna need it." He said. I stood stunned. I didn't understand how I could use my imagination to make something like this up. It was insane. I was seeing a dead person. I was in love with a dead person.
"I love you." He said and he disappeared from my sight. I had to get my mind off of what I just heard run through my head. There was no way there was money under the seat of his bike.
Danny showed up as if on cue, and I sighed in relief when he sat on the opposite side of me. The side Flack wasn't on. "Hear anything?" He asked.
Flack shook his head.
I turned and stared at Danny. "You got a motorcycle right?" I asked him.
He looked confused, but nodded his head. "Why?"
"No reason." I said, standing up. "I'm going to go see if the nurse at the desk can fill me in." I said, flashing a weak smile. I slowly walked towards the front desk, my mind spinning with how crazy I was to be imagining my dead boyfriend.
I reached the front desk and saw a smiling nurse beam at me. "How can I help you ma'am?" She asked me. I wanted to snap her neck for being so cheerful. But I resisted the temptation when I realized she had no reason to be upset. She didn't know my five year old son could possibly be dead, or that this was the sixth anniversary of his father's death. She had no reason to be as "emo" as I did.
"Yes my son Timothy Speedle was shot." I said. "Can you send someone out to tell me what's going on?"
"I'm sorry Mrs. Speedle but if there was any info on your son you would know." The gitty bitch said.
"It's Miss Caine." I corrected. "And I have been waiting three hours for an update. Either you send someone out, or I'm going in."
"You can't go in." She smiled. I chuckled at her stupidity.
"Try me." I said. "If I haven't heard anything ten minutes from now, you will be sorry. And no. It's not a threat it's a warning." I walked away and noticed that Mac was now sitting beside Flack. Lindsay too, started to sit.
"Nothing." I say, and begin pacing.
Finally a doctor came out in scrubs. He approached me, and I could tell he was petrified of me. The nurse probably told him I was a psychotic woman with a gun.
"Miss Caine" His voice shook as he spoke to me.
I nodded my head. "Just out of curiosity. How long were you planning on keeping me in the dark about my son?"
No answer.
"Do you do that to all of your patients' families, sir?" I could tell he was shaking. "Because last I checked, my son was shot and I should be updated every twenty minutes. It has been three hours. Do you understand that for three hours I have been agonizing over the fact you more than likely fucked up and killed him?"
"I…" He had no clue what to say. "No I don't ma'am."
I sat back down; feeling like my temper was slipping from me.
"Ma'am, your son is alive. He is in recovery now. He was shot in his arm, no major arteries were hit. He's lost some blood, but he'll be fine shortly. You'll be able to see him soon, Ms. Caine."
"Logan." I said, biting my lip. "I apologize for being rude." I couldn't look at him.
"If you'll excuse me, I have another patient," He said leaving Mac, Flack, Danny, Lindsay, and myself.
"That was bitchy." Danny said.
"I apologized." I said, defensively.
I had held in all of my anger all day long. I was usually good at controlling my anger, but it slipped when that doctor stood in front of me. It was like all my fears in the world were in the hands of that man. I had no control what so ever. It was out of my hands. I was taught that anger was mostly triggered when a person has no control over what was happening in a situation, sort of like right now.
"Apologies make everything better." He half chuckled half mumbled under his breath.
"I'll just pretend like I didn't hear that." I said. Flack was giving Danny a dirty look. It's hard to explain, but his eyebrows were scrunched, and his eyes were squinted.
"Miss Caine." A voice spoke from behind me. I turned in my chair, and saw a familiar face smiling back at me. "What are you doing here?"
"Umm." I laughed. "Alexx, you're the one who's supposed to be in Miami, I'm the one who should be asking you what you're doing here."
"I mean in the hospital. You are the cop not the doctor."
"Timmy."
"Timmy?" She asked. "Oh my God! You had a boy!" She ran towards me and sat down beside me, squeezing me to death. "What's he like? Is he smart? Does he look more like you or Timothy?"
"He looks just like Tim. He starts first grade next year."
"Baby, it's been years. Oh my God. Why are you here? Is he okay?"
"He was shot. The doctor said he'd be fine though." I said, clearing my throat.
"Oh, sweetie." She sighed, squeezing me again. "I'll be right back, okay. I'm going to go see if I can get any updates for you, sweetie."
"Thanks." I whispered. I let out a dramatic sigh and watched her walk away.
"You look tired." Flack said. "You should get some rest."
"I'm good." I lied, standing up when I saw Alexx come back so quickly. "That was fast."
"Come on back with me." She smiled. I nodded my head, and to my surprise Mac stood up to follow me. We entered an elevator and I started to sweat.
"How many floors is he?"
"7th." Alexx said. "You'll be okay sweetie."
"Yeah, I'm just gonna barf all over you, okay?" She laughed at my stupidity.
"Don't like elevators?" Mac asked me.
"I have an elevator phobia." I swallowed. "Oh shit." I cried. "It stopped, why did it stop? Alexx are we gonna die?"
"Sweetie, its just people getting on." Alexx explained. Three people climbed on board with us and my heart began pounding even harder.
"Two more floors." I heard Mac say. I wasn't paying attention anymore; I had my eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly the doors opened and I bolted out of the elevator.
"You made it." Alexx cheered.
"No" I said "Bag."
She pulled out a paper bag and handed it to me, as if she knew I was going to throw up when we got off, and I did. I filled that whole bag up with throw up, and I didn't hesitate to hand her back the bag, which she took and threw away for me without a problem. She had done this many times before when I was forced by Tim to use the elevator to go see her.
"Remember the last time I did this for you?" She laughed.
"Ugh. Tim forced me into the elevator and said I needed to get over my fears."
"And I helped you get him back by letting you borrow my cat."
"He shit his pants." I laughed.
We stopped in front of a door that read Speedle, and my smile wiped off my face. I opened the door, and saw my baby lying in a bed, with wires coming from every direction.
"Hi Mommy." He smiled. I sat next to him, and kissed his cheek.
"Hey baby." I said. "How are you feeling?"
I couldn't look anywhere but his face The wires and tubes and machines made it to painful to watch him. I knew he was in pain, even if he didn't admit it to me.
"My arm hurts, but that's it. Can we go home?" He asked.
"I wish, baby. You have to stay a few days."
"Did they catch the bad guy?"
"Yeah, they did." I smiled, and brushed his hair from his face. Mac sat next to me, and Timmy stared at him.
"Who are you?" Tim asked him.
"I'm Mac." Mac said.
"Hi." Timmy said, and then turned back to me. "Will you sing?"
"Sure." I said. "What do you want me to sing?"
"I've got you babe!" He cheered.
"Okay, are you going to help me?" I asked and he nodded his head.
"They say we're young and we don't know. We won't find out until we grow." I started out.
"Well I don't know if all that's true, cause you got me, and baby I got you! Babe." Timmy sang, giggling the whole time.
"I got you babe. I got you babe." We started together.
It was surprising a five year old knew every word to a song written before I was even born, but I had sung it to him ever since he was born. Tim had used to sing it to me.
Timmy had finally fallen asleep, which in turn had me fall asleep on Mac's shoulder.
