Chapter 3
Samantha and Elena strode from Sam's apartment with poise and confidence. When they reached the lobby of the apartment block, Samantha could not maintain her tough outer façade any longer. Her tears began to fall with a vengeance; tears of frustration; tears of a terrified mother. Elena, who walked ahead of Samantha, noticed that she was lagging behind and turned around to see what was the matter. She witnessed her friend falling to pieces before her eyes and knew she had to intervene.
"It's gonna be okay, Momma," she said in her own inimitable way, putting her arms around Sam and pulling her into a comforting embrace. "If Brian has Finn, at least we know he won't hurt him. He loves Finn."
"If he loves him so much, why is he doing this?" Sam retorted, her anger and frustration bursting through.
"I don't know. He's obviously not thinking straight," Elena said, trying to make sense of it all.
"That's what I'm worried about. I just can't believe this is happening. My baby….and, oh God, Jack. He has to be okay," Sam said, dabbing her tears with a tissue.
"He will be. Do you want me to take you to the hospital to check up on him?" Elena asked as they continued on towards her car.
"I don't know. I should go to the office and help find Brian," she replied, sounding unsure of what she should do.
"Look, Viv and Danny have already started tracing his movements. You might feel better if you check on Jack first," Elena suggested.
"Okay…okay, yeah, that would be good. Thanks," she said hesitantly.
While Elena and Samantha drove towards St. Michael's Hospital, Vivian and Danny were busy pulling Brian Donovan's life apart. They were scouring through work records, DMV history, credit card usage and phone bills, anything that would give them an idea where to start looking for Sam's ex. They had found his last known address and current place of employment. It was a start at least.
Back at the hospital, Martin waited anxiously outside the Trauma Room. The doctors had been in there with Jack for what felt like forever and no one had told him anything. In his frustration and seeking answers, he accosted the next unfortunate person, who exited the trauma room.
"What's going on in there?" he asked the pretty nurse who was rushing past him.
"They're working on your friend. I'll ask someone to speak to you in a moment," she replied, brushing by him and not at all intimidated by his brashness.
Martin turned away, cursing under his breath. He already knew they were working on Jack. She offered nothing new. He needed to know how it was going. He was growing more and more frustrated and increasingly worried each minute that passed. He was still pacing when Elena and Samantha arrived. Sam spotted Martin on the corridor outside the Trauma Room and hurried over to him, her eyes wide with expectation and hope.
"Martin?" she said hesitantly. Martin noticed her pained expression.
"They're still working on him. I don't know anything yet," Martin told her truthfully.
"Is he conscious?" Elena asked, having heard about his situation from Samantha on the journey to the hospital.
"I don't know," Martin replied, his exasperation evident in his tone. "Any sign of Brian?"
"Not yet. Viv and Danny are at the office trying to track his movements," Elena told him.
She had just finished her sentence when the door of the Trauma Room opened and a doctor emerged looking sombre. They all turned towards him anxiously.
"Jack Malone?" he said, just checking that they were in fact who he was looking for.
"Yes. How is he?" Martin and Sam said almost in unison.
"Mr. Malone regained consciousness briefly but is drifting in and out still. X-rays show that the blow to his head caused a compound linear fracture of the occipital bone in his skull. This type of fracture should heal by itself and won't require surgical intervention. There is some associated brain swelling, which would explain his confusion and agitation, but thankfully no internal bleed. He's a lucky man. It could have been a lot worse," the doctor explained.
"Swelling? Isn't that serious?" Samantha asked apprehensively.
"It can be, but we are treating him appropriately and will be closely monitoring him for any signs of complication," the doctor explained with confidence. Sam nodded, gladly accepting the doctor's prognosis.
"So, can we see him?" Samantha asked eagerly.
"We'll be admitting him for observation for a few days, so he'll be transferred to a room soon. You can see him for a couple of minutes before we move him if you wish, although I must warn you, he probably won't even know you're there. He's still pretty out of it," the doctor told her.
"Okay, thank you," Sam said, her voice a mix of relief and anxiety.
The doctor led Samantha through the Trauma Room doors and into the sterile surroundings of the Trauma Room 2. She desperately wanted to see Jack's chocolate brown eyes greeting her, but her wish wasn't to be granted just yet. He lay on the gurney, eyes closed, apparently resting comfortably. However, the evidence of his ordeal was all too visible. His freshly stitched scalp laceration looked raw and ugly against his recently shorn hair. Dried blood remained matted in his hair and stained down the back of his neck. A nasty-looking bruise was forming on one side of his face. On his upper lip rested a nasal cannula. He was breathing easy and didn't seem to be in any pain, Sam noticed with some relief.
Sam approached him tentatively. She stood close to his head and looked at him intensely, willing him to open his eyes. She reached and took his hand in hers, taking care not to disturb the IV line that was inserted into the back of it.
"Jack," she whispered. "I need you to wake up, Jack. I need you."
She bit her top lip as tears welled in her eyes. She managed to remain composed, however. She wouldn't, couldn't allow herself to fall to pieces. There was too much at stake. She needed to find her son. She knew Jack would know what to do. She needed him to tell her exactly what had happened and hopefully it would lead her to find Finn. Time was ticking by and the longer Jack remained unconscious, the further away Brian was getting and the further away her son was getting.
"Please, Jack," she urged him to wake, to help her.
But Jack never stirred.
He was lost somewhere in the darkness, striving to find a way out. In the expanse of his densely clouded mind he could hear a familiar voice, Samantha's voice, calling to him and he was driven to find her. Despite being unable to determine what her voice was saying, an air of sadness pervaded. However inhibited his senses were, he could tell something was wrong. She needed him. He couldn't let her down. He wouldn't. He continued his silent struggle through the muddled mire of his mind, clawing his way back towards cognizance to find her.
Various medical staff buzzed around the room, preparing their patient for transport. It wasn't long before Sam was asked to step outside while they moved Jack to a room. She waited in the corridor with Elena and Martin and looked on as they wheeled Jack towards the elevator. His friends were told they could follow him to the third floor and wait in the visitor's area until he was settled into his room.
Martin, however, had taken a call from Vivian while he had been waiting with Elena. Viv had given him the details of Brian Donovan's last known address. Danny was already on his way, so Martin agreed to meet him there. He explained this to Elena and Sam as they walked towards the elevator. Sam was torn. She desperately wanted to take an active part in tracing Brian and Finn, but she also felt hugely responsible for Jack being hurt. If Jack hadn't been so good to her, if he hadn't been in the apartment when he was, if she hadn't left things so up in the air with Brian, Jack would never have ended up in the hospital. She had to trust her team to find her son. She decided that her place, for the moment, was to be there for Jack when he woke up.
As she was settling on her decision, her cell phone rang. She answered it quickly, hoping it was Brian calling back. But it wasn't. It was Hanna, Jack's elder daughter, who had been living with him for over a year.
"Oh, hi, Sam. Is my Dad with you?" she asked sounding chirper. "He isn't answering his cell."
"Hanna," Sam said immediately, her stomach flipping.
How was she going to tell her what had happened? She paused, carefully considering how best to break the news without panicking the young woman unnecessarily.
"Hanna…..I'm at the hospital. You dad has… had an accident. He's going to be okay, but they want to keep him here for a day or two," Samantha explained, trying to disguise her own fears.
"What? Oh my God! What happened? Is he okay? Can I speak to him?" Hanna asked, her mind going into overdrive.
"He was knocked unconscious and had to get some stitches," Sam told her truthfully, yet deliberately not elaborating. "The doctor's with him now so he can't come to the phone. We're at St. Michael's Hospital," Sam advised.
"St. Michael's? I know where that is," Hanna replied. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
Sam ended the conversation and looked over at Elena, who was giving her a critical look.
"What? She's just a kid. I couldn't tell her that her Dad has a fractured skull over the phone, could I?" Sam said in her defence.
"I'm not saying anything," Elena said, not wanting to get into an argument with Sam. "Come on, let's go see the boss."
Meanwhile, at Penn Station, a rugged looking young man stood beneath the Greyhound destinations board with a little boy in his arms.
"So, where do you fancy, little man?" he said, adjusting the baby bag on his shoulder.
"Washington? Pittsburgh? Hmmm, Buffalo maybe? All right little guy, Buffalo it is. Good choice. They say it's nice there this time of year."
He checked his wallet. He knew he didn't have much cash and was painfully aware that the authorities could trace his credit card transactions. He decided to take out the maximum his ATM card would allow before he walked with his son to the ticket desk. He purchased a one-way ticket to Buffalo. He was getting out of the city, away from the noise.
TBC
A/N - thanks for your reviews. Hope you like it so far.