Disclaimer: I don't own anything here (except for Al) and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.
Tim and Billy were having lunch in Billy's office when Tim's cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and checked the caller id.
"Hi, Al. What's up?"
"Tim, I'm at the hospital. Buddy had a heart attack."
Tim was stunned. "A heart attack.... Is he going to be okay?"
"I don't know, I hope so, I think so. They're going to stabilize him now and then might have to do a surgery later this afternoon or tonight. I need you to do some things for me."
"Anything."
"First, do you have a pen?"
Tim shuffled papers and burger wrappers around on Billy's desk, looking for a pen. Billy watched him with wide, concerned eyes.
"Got it. Shoot."
"I've already called Lyla. She's on her way here and I need you to pick her up from Midland airport. She'll be on flight 56223, which is due in at 8.01 tonight."
"5623, 8.01," Tim repeated as he wrote the numbers on his hand and traced over them for good measure.
"Buddy's asked me to stay with him until Lyla gets here, so can you let Billy know I'm not going to be back in today."
"No problem."
"Then, finally, if you''ve got nothing else pressing this afternoon, think you could take care of that jeep for me? And get Kevin to help you – he needs to learn how to diagnose problems better."
"Sure, although he's going to be mighty disappointed that he's going to be working with me instead of you."
"He is not."
"He is. He can't look down my shirt nearly as well as he can look down yours."
He could hear the smile in her voice as she told him to knock it off and that she'd seem him at the hospital.
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Tim stood in the arrivals area at the airport, looking for Lyla. He saw her before she saw him, a determined figure politely stepping around people and walking with purpose toward the exit. Her face was pale and he could tell, even from a distance, that she'd been crying. She saw him and angled his way, dragging her small wheeled suitcase behind her.
He didn't think, he just opened his arms and she fell against him. He could feel the tension draining from her as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He was careful not to look down at her until he'd let her go and stepped back. He remember all too well how these physical gestures of comfort could spiral out of control when grief and worry were involved.
Tim picked up her suitcase and led her out to his truck, where George waited inside.
"Wow. He's gotten huge."
"Yeah, not done growing yet either. He's only about six months old."
Lyla laughed as George licked her face, then flopped down with his head in her lap.
"How're you doing?" Tim asked as he put the truck in drive.
"Oh, you know. I just want to be with my father. Then I think I'll feel better, when I can see for myself how he is."
"Have you heard any more?"
"Yeah, he called me when I was in Houston waiting for my connecting flight. Said that they were going to do an angioplasty and not to worry, he was fine."
"That the one with the balloon?" Tim remembered Al mentioning it as a possibility. It gave him a bizarre mental image of Buddy Garrity's arteries full of brightly colored party balloons.
Lyla nodded. "He sounded tired, but okay. He said he had Al to thank for his life. She's the one who recognized his symptoms, called the ambulance, and gave him aspirin."
"She's a good one to have around in an emergency, all right."
"Jason said she'd been to med school?"
Tim nodded, but didn't provide any more information. He hoped that Jay hadn't told her any more than that.
"Why'd she leave?"
Tim shrugged. "Guess it just wasn't for her, you know?"
Lyla was quiet for a minute, rubbing George's soft ear with her thumb. "So, you're seriously getting married?"
"Yep. Should be sendin' out invitations soon. Tyra's handling all the details, all I have to do is smile and agree with everything."
Lyla shook her head.
"What? Is it completely unbelievable that I'd be getting married?" Tim was equal parts annoyed and amused.
"You weren't exactly the type that seemed he'd ever settle down. That's all."
Tim nearly said something about just needing to find the right girl, but he knew those words might be taken more personally than intended. He didn't want to hurt Lyla's feelings.
"That was a long time ago," he said in a low voice.
"I just never thought you would."
Tim sighed and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, debating how much to tell Lyla.
"Remember your birthday, two years ago? When I showed up at Vanderbilt?"
Lyla nodded as a guilty flush crept up her face.
"I was going to propose to you then. Had a ring and everything. It wasn't much, but I wanted to do it right.."
Lyla looked down for a moment then raised her head to look across the seat at Tim, searching his face for the truth. Her large eyes seemed even bigger, magnified by tears. Tim looked at her and nodded.
"I'm still sorry about the way that turned out....and now....now I feel even worse."
"Don't. I can see now it would have been a mistake. I was doing it for the wrong reason – I was afraid and wanted to keep you tied to me so I wouldn't lose you. With Al....it's just so different. She's like....oxygen – I need her and can't imagine not having her in my life. And she needs me the same way."
A few tears escaped from Lyla's attempts at control and she tried to brush them away discretely, an elbow resting on the door and her forehead pressed against the cool glass.
"Lyla, I know you know what I'm talking about. That's how you and Jay were."
"Were. Past tense."
"You could be that way again. I know that you could."
"Don't be stupid. That is so over and has been for ages. Ancient history."
"Even a banked fire generates heat."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Lyla's sharp tone set him on edge and he struggled to maintain his patience.
"It means as long as there's still a part of you that loves him, and a part of him that loves you, it would only take a little work to get that fire going again," he said slowly, as though explaining something obvious to a child.
"Do you really think so?"
Tim had to grin as he heard the same hope in her voice that he'd heard from Six when they talked about Lyla at Christmas.
"You're laughing at me," said Lyla in a petulant tone, crossing her arms and looking out the window.
"No. No, it's not like what you think. It's just, Jay sounded exactly the same way, same words, same hope, when we had a similar conversation back when he was visiting at Christmas."
He looked over at her and caught a faint smile on her lips. But when she spoke, her tone was rueful.
"But it's too late. His life is about Noah and Erin now."
"Noah will always be Jay's son, his main priority, but Erin, well, they're having problem. Honestly, if you gave him a reason, he'd leave her in a heartbeat."
Lyla considered his words. "But if you guys talked about this in December, how come he hasn't said anything to me? I haven't heard anything about troubles with Erin. And I sure don't get a sense from him that he's being – and wants to be – anything other than my friend."
"Lyla, no guy wants to get shot down. And I don't know if Jay completely believed me. He probably talked himself out of believing me before he'd even gotten back to New Jersey."
"Why wouldn't he believe you?"
Tim shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. "He thinks you're still hung up on me."
An awkwardness settled over the truck and Tim waited. He knew the truth, but he'd always thought that Lyla's pride and stubbornness would keep her from admitting it to him. And he'd been okay with that, so long as she was able to admit it to herself.
"Remember that conversation we had in the garage, when I asked you for a second chance and you said that I'd always wanted a different version of you?"
Tim nodded.
"I thought about that for weeks. And eventually, I realized why I was so confused and messed up. I'd loved both of you for so long, that you'd nearly merged into one person in my mind. So you were right. I was trying to bring out the parts of Jason that I thought you should have."
Tim was surprised that she was admitting this to him. He took the exit for Dillon and stopped at the lights at the bottom of the off-ramp. He looked at her, watching her eyes for the truth.
"And now? How do you feel about us now?"
"I love you like an old friend, like a brother. And Jason, I love him just like always."
Tim sighed and nodded, a smile of relief on his lips. The light changed and he put the truck into gear.
"I don't know what to do, Tim."
"Just tell him how you feel. And then, when you're finally back together, don't try to change him."