A/N- First of all, thank you for all the likes and reviews! It's amazing. (: Also, just to reiterate, I'm not going for clinical accuracy here lol. This is fiction, based loosely off my own experience and an hour of research. Some people were also asking about "PEARL" vs "PERRLA" and "PERRL." PEARL is "pupils equal, accommodating, reactive to light." I think most variations of the acronym are all essentially making the same point; the ambulance service I work for just uses PEARL, so I did, too. About the one-size-fits all: true story. They also have a plug in for a hose to blow warm air. Very bizarre feeling to wear one haha.
Provenza insisted on parking the car before letting Rusty out.
"Kid, you don't know the innards of a hospital like I do. You'll get to the Commander faster if you wait five minutes for me."
Rusty turned and hefted Sharon's bag out of the backseat and settled it in his lap. He had found it in the trunk like she'd said, nestled over a locked case that supposedly held the legendary bean-bag gun. It was heavier than he'd expected, but, knowing his mother, she had prepared for everything.
Provenza parked, and led the way inside. He knew where the front desk was, and made a beeline, pulling his badge out of his pocket.
"We're looking for Sharon Raydor. She was brought in by ambulance about two hours ago."
The man behind the desk looked surprised for a second. "Are you family?"
"Yeah. This is her son."
The man looked over their IDs and passed them back. "Go to the blue elevators at the end of the hall and go to the eleventh floor. Room 1117."
Rusty fought not to run down the halls and kept himself in step with the older Lieutenant. It seemed like an eon before an elevator reached them and began its ascent again.
Provenza rested a hand on the boy's shoulder. "She's okay."
Rusty nodded slowly. "I don't like it."
"I don't think you're necessarily supposed to like it when someone in your family is sick."
"Just, first Flynn, then her. I just. . ." he grimaced.
"I know, kid."
They rode the rest of the way in silence.
The elevator doors slid open, and Rusty jumped out before deciding to wait again. Provenza stepped past him and gestured to the left, towards the nurses' station.
"Flynn's old room was that way and I think hers is close to the same number, if I remember correctly. We should check in with the nurses, as well."
It took but a few seconds to speak with someone at the desk who pointed them further down the hall. Rusty paused outside the door until Provenza nudged him forward.
Flynn jumped up from his chair as soon as the door opened and pressed a finger to his lips. The room was awash with sunlight, and there were quiet beeps echoing around, but Sharon was sprawled across the bed, asleep.
"She kept getting worked up, so they gave her a sedative before the MRI. She's been out since they brought her back. I think she needs the sleep," Flynn whispered. "She's been doing fine, though."
Rusty nodded and set her bag down in the corner.
"Tell you what," Provenza said quietly. "Flynn and I are going to make a run to the cafeteria and pick up the lunch everyone has missed, and you can have a minute with her." He wasn't sure if the boy needed a few minutes for himself or not, but he figured it couldn't hurt.
"Sounds good."
Rusty waited until the door quietly clicked shut, then shucked his jacket and tossed it over the pullout sofa with Flynn's jacket and tie. Sharon's clothes were neatly folded nearby.
The woman herself had pulled her blanket nearly up to her chin. Rusty could still see IV tubing and several multicolored wires snaking under its hem, though. She looked more peaceful that he'd seen in a while.
He settled in the chair closest to the bed. It didn't make much noise, but Sharon stirred slightly.
"Andy?" She mumbled.
"No, it's just me. He's getting some food with Provenza."
"Rusty."
"Yeah." He couldn't think of any wise comment to say.
"Oh, you didn't have to come." She was still half-asleep. She took a deep breath and stretched.
"Mom. Of course I was going to come."
She smiled as she sat up. "I'm feeling much better now."
"Provenza said you passed out at work?"
She glanced away for a moment. "I did. It seems like the general conclusion is that I should take sick leave if I get the flu again and not work overtime on a triple missing persons."
He got the feeling she was playing it down, but he let her be. "I brought your bag."
"Oh, thank you. I think they'd prefer if I wear the gown, but I'd kill for something to wear under it." She plucked at the fabric, and Rusty had to laugh. She was nearly swimming in it, and he was sure the back probably gapped no matter how tightly she tied it. "I asked if there was anything smaller and they said it was one size fits all."
"I'll make sure to take a picture for Andrea. She's at least as into fashion as you are."
Sharon rolled her eyes. She reached for the bag, and Rusty brought it over and set it on the bed.
"Do you really keep all this stuff in case you're stuck at work?" She had sifted through a pair of flats, sneakers, a suit and shirt, and an array of toiletries. He had also noticed a book and ziploc bag of cross-stitching stuff. He'd seen Sharon work on it when she traveled and around the holidays, but only rarely.
"Well, I wanted to be prepared to stay overnight at a hospital, as well, but- I admit- I didn't think I would be the one with the plastic bracelet." She shook her wrist at him, and finally found what she was looking for: leggings and a cardigan. Rusty turned and watched her view over the city as she changed.
It was funny, he thought, how people were dying and being born in the building he was looking out of while the people in the cars below streamed by in blissful oblivion. He watched for a moment longer, then turned back to his mother and flopped into the chair next to her.
She regarded him quietly, raising an eyebrow with a silent question.
"Life is weird."
"It is," she agreed calmly. He would keep going if he had more to say. Knowing him as she did, he did.
"I'm glad you're here to be weird with me. If you'd asked me, like, four years ago what I thought today would look like, this wouldn't have been my answer."
"Mine, either. Honestly, I didn't think we'd still be living together, let alone you and me and Andy."
"I'm glad he's here for you." He glanced over, unembarrassed by his confession.
"I am, too."
He reached out and set his hand on top of her smaller, cooler one.
They were in the same position when Flynn and Provenza returned twenty minutes later. The two lieutenants regarded them for a minute, and Rusty's eyes fluttered open.
"Go back to sleep, kid. We'll be right outside." Flynn let his partner leave first, and they took up residence in chairs on either side of the closed door.
"It's going to be okay, Flynn. I can promise you that," Provenza said quietly.
"Yeah?" Flynn blew on his coffee.
"The Wicked Witch won't get brought down by the flu and a murder case."
Flynn smiled despite himself.
"Besides, I've put too damn much effort into getting fitted for a suit with a purple vest to not wear it next week. Purple. Ye-ee gods." He rolled his eyes, and reached over to clasp Flynn's shoulder. "It'll be okay."