Undone

Chapter 2

Archie went through the sequence of events like a robot, like someone who had witnessed it through a window, far removed from the actual violence and chaos. He spoke in an even tone, his voice only breaking when he got to the point in the story where Fred Andrews had pushed his son out of the line of fire. Once he arrived at that part of the narrative, he suddenly found himself unable to continue. Suddenly, he was overcome by a sense of guilt so strong and dominant that he found himself gasping for breath. His chest heaved wildly as he tried desperately to fill his lungs with air. He was vaguely aware of Sheriff Keller's hands grasping his shoulders. He was even less aware of the fact that every eye in the waiting room was trained on him.

Eventually, the sheriff's voice broke through to him and he was able to focus on the low, dulcet tones. "Archie, it's okay. You're okay. Just slow your breathing down. That's it. Nice and slow."

Archie felt his chest start to heave a little less violently and his vision started to refocus. He looked anxiously up into Sheriff Keller's face, searching for the reassurance he so desperately needed….that everything would be okay.

"It's my fault," he said softly. "It's all my fault, Sheriff. He's going to die and it's all because of me."

"Come on now, son. It's not your fault."

Hearing the sheriff call him "son" nearly caused him to become undone again, but he was somehow able to hold on to his composure.

"You don't understand," he cried. "I'm the reason we were even at the diner to begin with. If I hadn't been so stupid, we would have been at home. Because of me, my dad was there when that man came in. He put himself in front of me to protect me, Sheriff. I should have been the one that was shot."

"Archie, your dad did what any father would have done. And I know Fred Andrews pretty well. I know he wouldn't want you to sit here blaming yourself, son."

Archie knew deep, deep down that the sheriff was telling the truth. He just couldn't bring himself to agree. It was his fault. For being so selfish and so, so stupid.

For the first time since he arrived at Pop's diner, Sheriff Keller really looked at the young man sitting next to him. He looked so young and so vulnerable, even as he sat there covered in the blood of his father. He had known Fred Andrews for many years and he knew how close Fred and his son really were. He also knew Archie through his own son, Kevin. He was a good kid, who had been through some tough things recently, but if there was one thing he knew about the Andrews men, it was that they were strong.

That's not to say that they couldn't be broken, though, and at the moment, Archie looked completely broken. Sheriff Keller noticed the way the boy's whole body was trembling and how fast his chest was rising and falling with each frantic breath. He noticed how Archie kept rubbing his hands together as if he were trying desperately to rid his hands of the traces of this tragedy. The boy's eyes darted wildly around the room, shooting from the waiting room to the door that led back into the trauma bay and then back down to his own blood-stained hands.

"Archie, I'll be right back, okay? Stay right here for just a minute." Keller stood up and walked back up to the reception desk to ask for something to help clean Archie up a bit. He hadn't taken more than a few steps when he heard the tumult behind him. Turning quickly around, he saw Archie jumping to his feet, knocking the chair he had been sitting in to the side, and staggering towards the recently opened trauma bay door. Keller was just barely able to grab the sleeve of Archie's shirt before the boy twisted away, ripping the fabric from his hands.

"Archie! Wait!" he yelled, but Archie kept on through the doors. Keller heard someone at the desk yelling for someone else to call security. "It's okay," he called out to the receptionist. "I've got this."

Running through the door, he quickly spotted Archie speeding down the hall. He could hear what sounded like a great commotion in the direction the boy was headed and he dreaded what was going on there. Rounding a corner, he nearly ran into Archie, who had come to a complete standstill just outside the open door to the trauma bay.

Stepping up next to the distraught boy, Sheriff Keller put his arm around Archie and pulled him in closer to his side. He was surprised to feel the boy lean into him a little.

"Archie, we shouldn't he here," he said quietly. "We need to let them do their jobs, okay?"

"I need to be here," Archie answered brokenly. "He needs me…."

"Okay," Keller finally conceded. "But, let's move out of the way, okay? Just over to the side, so we're not in the way."

Archie allowed himself to be pulled off to the side, but his eyes never left the sight of the doctors and nurses that were trying to save his dad. He could barely make out the shape of his father's body through the mass of people, which brought him both anxiety and relief. There was a part of him that needed to lay eyes on his dad again, but another part of him was too scared to see the man so injured. I'm such a coward, he thought to himself. It's my fault that he's lying there in the first place, but I can't even bring myself to look at him.

Every so often, one of the staff would move just enough for him to get a quick glimpse of the man on the gurney, but all he could really see was a mass of tubes and lines and dressings. He could see several bags of blood hanging from the IV poles, as well as bags of other IV fluids. There was a tube that was coming out of his father's mouth and he could see someone standing at the head of the bed, methodically squeezing some contraption that was filling the man's lungs with oxygen. Other than that, all he saw was blood. Blood on the floor, blood on the dressings, blood on the gurney, even blood on the uniforms of the men and women working on him. So much blood…..An ocean of blood…..

Eventually, someone walked over to where they were standing, stopping right in front of Archie. Archie moved immediately to the side, not wanting to lose sight of what was going on with his dad.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Brent. Are you the family of Mr. Andrews?" the man asked.

When Archie didn't answer, Sheriff Keller immediately spoke up. "This is Archie Andrews, Fred's son. And I'm Sheriff Keller, a family friend. How is he doing?"

With these words, Archie's attention turned back to the man in front of him, who seemed to be looking at him cautiously. "I'm going to be honest here, okay? Mr. Andrews is in critical condition. He's lost a lot of blood, so we're trying to stabilize him enough to get him into surgery. Once we're in surgery, we can hopefully stop the bleeding and fix whatever needs fixing. Can either of you tell me anything about his general health? Does he take any medications? Is he allergic to anything?"

"I don't know!" Archie answered, once again on the verge of panicking. "I should know that, right? Why don't I know that?!"

"It's okay, Archie," Dr. Brent answered quickly, hoping to ease the young man's anxiety. "We don't have any record of allergies for your dad, so we're just going to go with that. It's okay."

Of course, Archie didn't feel like it was okay, though. He really hated the fact that he didn't know the answers to those questions. What kind of son was he?!

Before anything else could be said, Archie noticed a sudden increase in activity happening. His heart lurched painfully in his chest, until he realized that the commotion was due to the fact that they were wheeling the gurney towards the surgery suites.

"Wait!" he yelled as he pitched forward. "Wait, I need to see him!"

The team of doctors and nurses didn't look eager to stop, but Dr. Brent gave them the okay. "Be quick, Archie," he said. "We really need to get him into the OR."

Archie stepped up to the gurney and somehow found his dad's hands buried under several blankets. Grabbing hold of it, he held on desperately as he finally looked at the man's face. "Please, Dad," he cried. "Please, you have to keep fighting, okay? Don't give up…"

Just as they started to wheel the gurney forward again, Archie gave his father's hand one last squeeze. "Dad, I love you! Don't forget….."

Author's note: Well, I tried to warn you that I love to write angst. I hope this wasn't too much for you all, lol. Thanks so much for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts.