Gillian watched as the distant look dropped away and his focus returned to her. "You're exhausted."
"A little tired." She admitted.
"It's late. Maybe you should head home and get some rest." His eyes flitted over her face worriedly.
"I don't know if…" She'd meant to say 'if I can sleep,' but it was more along the lines of not wanting to be alone. The hospital was still a beehive of activity and she found it comforting. If asked at any other time, 'comforting' wasn't ever a word that she would use to describe hospitals but now it seemed to fit.
They were both quiet for a moment, unspoken acknowledgement and understanding thick between them. "I know." He murmured, squeezing her hand.
Did he not remember? After everything they'd gone through, did he not remember the one bright spot? He'd been telling the truth, she'd know that. But his inhibitions had been severely hindered. It was possible that the admission would never have seen the light of day if it hadn't been the heavy influx of drugs in his system.
Cal narrowed his eyes as he observed her. There was a lot going on but most importantly, she seemed to be expecting something from him. And he had no idea exactly what it was.
"How much do you remember?" She didn't look up, gazing down at their entwined hands.
His brow furrowed. The last couple of days were a haze. He remembered being attacked in the stairwell but very little until the gunshot. From there it was, more or less, clear. There was a huge gap in the middle and he felt the stirring of anger once again. They'd stolen time from his life. "Um, not a whole lot. I remember that night at the office, someone grabbing me, seeing the other one go after you…" He faltered for a moment, the image nausea inducing. "Not too much more until Bainbridge killed Berkley. Then it all speeds up."
Gillian nodded, still not meeting his eyes.
"Is there something I need to know?" Horror shot through him as he sat straight up, ignoring the slight wave of dizziness. His hand pulled from hers and caught her by the shoulder, turning her to face him, his eyes wide. "They didn't…?"
The look of devastation on his face stabbed right through her as realization hit. "No, no Cal." She shook her head violently, vision blurring.
"You're…okay then?" His eyes continued to follow her intently.
"I'm okay."
Wow. The grandfather of lies.
Neither said anything.
"Dad? Gillian?" Emily appeared in the doorway and Gillian immediately pulled away and got to her feet. Cal frowned at her, bemused, before turning his attention to his daughter.
"Hey Em'."
She stepped quickly into the room, sat on the bed and threw her arms around him. "I…was…so worried."
Wincing, he quickly hid it. He'd wrenched his shoulder when he'd purposely knocked over the chair in his attempt to keep away from that psychopath's scalpel. It wasn't broken or dislocated but it was bruised, stiff and didn't take kindly to sudden jarring. Cal brought up one hand to cradle the back of Emily's head before kissing her temple. "I know. We're okay though." More or less.
She pulled back, eyes damp but controlled.
Very much like Cal. Gillian observed them for a moment before deciding that it would probably be best if she did leave. She didn't want to be alone but she would make due. Wine. All the lights on. Music. More wine. He doesn't remember. She hadn't had time to think about how much it would hurt and now she did. They'd had feelings for years but they'd never been voiced until now. Gillian felt like she'd been the victim of a cruel bait and switch. But it wasn't his fault. What was his fault was his inability to be honest with himself and her. Emotions completely terrified him.
"Gill, are you okay?" Emily was looking at her, questioning, brown eyes filled with concern.
She'd completely zoned as Cal spoke with his daughter and now she snapped back a little startled. "Um, sure. I'm fine."
Cal's eyes were on her. She could almost feel a tangible weight in his gaze. She didn't return his look, having the sudden need to get out of there. "I think I'm going to head home after all. I'll speak with you a little later." With that, she pivoted and walked quickly toward the exit.
"Gillian."
His voice was low but held an edge that made her turn to face him. This time she met his eyes, a tiny bit of hope fluttering.
There was something going on and he couldn't figure it out and it was going to, no doubt, drive him batshit. What else had happened? It would save him some agitation if she would just talk to him but that wasn't going to happen tonight. He let out a sigh. "Night luv."
Disappointment. It flitted quickly but he was pretty sure he didn't imagine it. He watched her take a breath. "Goodnight Cal. Emily."
She turned before he could see her tears.
(BREAK)
Emily had long since gone home and Cal couldn't sleep. He was overly conscious of every little sound. The slip of a nurse's shoe, the low murmur of a couple of orderlies, the steady beeping of medical equipment in the next room. All he needed was a leaky faucet and his night of insomnia would be complete.
Shifting onto his side, Gillian entered his mind once more. She 'd been scared and overwhelmed but underneath there'd been some relief. Almost like she'd received some kind of validation. And he was pretty damned sure that it didn't involve Ben and the cops. Sure, she was grateful, although if truth were told, a tiny bit earlier would have even better. But that was all over with. He just wanted to figure out where that validation had come from. It was something directly connected to him, he knew that. Had he said something to her during one of his lucid moments? He wished he could remember as frustration began to peak.
Maybe he needed to go to her. Maybe she'd be a little more willing to open up to him if she were on her own turf. She'd always been able to talk to him. What was different about this? Had it been because Emily had been here? His instincts told him that it wouldn't have mattered. It was possible that she would just come to him when she was ready but what if she didn't?
Shit, shit, shit! Cal was missing something vital and he wondered what would happen if he never remembered.
The night nurse slipped into his room and he quickly pretended to be asleep.
"I know you're awake Dr. Lightman." She checked the bag of fluids, before adeptly checking his temp and pulse. "This bag will be your last you'll be happy to know."
"That there is a bit of truth. I've probably peed 15 times in the last couple of hours." The remark was dry but he actually kind of liked this nurse. As a result, she'd escaped his typical boorish hospital behavior. "So I'm outta here come mornin'?"
"Well, that's up to the doctor. Best guess would be a big ol' yes but don't quote me." She gave an honest smile. Very cute with big green eyes and auburn hair. "You still need your rest though so I'd suggest you turn off that brain of yours and get some."
"Get some what exactly?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Very funny. Go to sleep. Now." She gave a playful glare before turning to leave the room.
"Yes ma'am."
(BREAK)
Lots of fear permeated the dream. The grim realization of impending death had them both terrified but in the dream world, everything was darkness and shadows, fuzzy and ambiguous, thus making it all the more terrifying. Voices without faces, movement without consent, one young man with dark hair tied back, with even darker eyes. No corneas. His entire eye was black. Dead eyes, yet he moved with the grace of a ballet dancer while something shiny and sharp glinted in the light. Suddenly he was gone and there was warmth but not external warmth. It was internal and so very rich and wonderful. "…I lovvve youu and I…always have." "Love you too." The lovely warmth was then gone. She'd been pulled away from him. He was on the floor. It was cold and he ached and the darkness and shadows were moving around him, taunting him. Grinning teeth, black, black eyes. Poison tinged voice. Something sharp glinted within the swirls of fog. It appeared and disappeared at random. He heard crying somewhere in the distance but he couldn't get to her, couldn't move…
Cal awoke suddenly, breathing hard and sweating. Confused, he swept his gaze around in panic before beginning to calm. Hospital. That's right. He was in hospital.
The next realization hit him like train. Holy shit. The expectation, the disappointment, the brief hope. All in her face and eyes. It now made sense.
Be damned if all that shit in his system hadn't pushed him into coming clean with her. He'd actually admitted that he was in love with her. He felt his insides rolling in chaos. No, no, no. How could he have done that to her? He's such a selfish bastard! She needed him like a butterfly needs a hand grenade. Oh fuck.
He swung his legs of the side of the bed and began to remove the IV needle from his hand.