Part 2
He approaches her gently, quietly. She's sitting at the desk, and she has her head in her hands and won't look at him.
"Charlotte?"
He hears her breathing. Slow and careful, with just the tiniest hitch...
"Baby?"
A pause. Then, a sigh. "What do you want from me, Coop?"
"I want you to go out there for a second and tell Addison to go ahead with her exam. We'll talk about this. But first, I want you to tell her to go ahead."
"Sounds like it doesn't matter all that much what I want."
"It sounds like in this situation, nobody's coming out happy. So we should make it as easy as it can be, for that girl who is depending on us, and we should send Addison in right now, before the social worker gets here."
"There's more going on here, Coop."
He's feeling suddenly emotional at that revelation, and he doesn't quite trust himself to say the right thing, so he tries to think about what Sheldon would say. "I know there is, and we'll deal with it in a second. But first, I think you need to go and tell her, Charlotte."
"You tell her, if you want her told so bad."
What would Sheldon say? What would he say? He'd say she has to be the one to give the go, because this is pushing her 'out of my hands' button and she needs to feel like she can control even one tiny part of it. And he'd say that Addison herself is still a bit of a button too...
"I'll wait for you," he finally says. "You tell her, then you come back again, and I'll be here."
She gives him a look he can't quite decipher, like what he's seeing right now is only half of what's really there. But she gets up, goes out there. And comes back in alone.
"All right, Coop. Talk if you want to."
"Well, I was hoping you would talk, actually."
She taps her fist against the tabletop, stares at him like she's taking in his careful, composed expression and trying to judge its sincerity. Trying to see just how much of it is faked and how much of it is ready to really hear what's on her mind...
"Something you don't know," she says after a second. "About what happened that night."
"Okay..."
"I declined the rape kit too, Coop. And she did it anyway."
"She WHAT?"
"Did it anyway. Or some of it, I don't know. Coop, I called her in. Did you know that part?"
He didn't.
"I called her in, and I trusted her. Called in a professional favour I never thought I'd have to call in and went with the devil I knew on this, and I trusted her to just look after it and spare me as much of the pain as she could. She betrayed that. And now it's going to happen again..."
"It's different this time," he says. "Your patient is a minor, Charlotte. It has to be reported."
"Oh, I know it. The rational, doctor part of me knows it, anyway. But the part of me that still's right back there when I close my eyes is feeling her back there too, doing one more violation. And that part of me is sick at the thought of turning her on someone else like that when they don't want it. Coop, you have no idea. NO idea. And she doesn't either. This just ain't right."
"A lot of things about this aren't right."
"I know that too. And I don't know what all I can do about it. I just have all this...this STUFF...and nowhere for it to go..."
"Have you thought a little, about having some therapy?"
"Been going to meetings some. With Amelia."
"Not that kind of therapy."
She fidgets again, won't quite meet his eyes. "No. Not yet."
"Okay. Your choice, sweetie. You know that, right?"
"Oh, so now is when I get the choices? Real helpful, Coop."
"I'll listen," he says. "When you want to talk to me, I'll listen."
"I know you will. I want to go home, Coop. I just can't...can't stop fidgeting. I'm all messed up. I want to go home and just try and forget this whole sorry day. Please, can we just go?"
In the car, she starts shivering. By the time they get home, she's doubled over, head between her knees, eyes glassy and sick.
"Charlotte? Babe?"
"Don't...touch..."
He's very alarmed, but she holds up her hand, takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Wait...wait..."
He unbuckles his seatbelt, sits, turns to her. Does what she asks for, and simply waits.
"Okay," she says after a moment. Her breathing is calmer now, but she still looks off...
"You want to tell me?"
"Just letting it finish."
"Letting what finish?"
"Addison's exam. I was following it along in my head, and I had to let it finish..."
She tries to move, wobbles over a little. "Whoa..."
"Char?"
"Coop, help me. I'm gonna..."
Her body twitches, and then her eyes roll back. That does it. He's getting help.
He calls Violet. She's the only one other than Charlotte who has an ICE spot on his speed dial, and he can't be bothered to press any more buttons than he has to right now. He carries Charlotte inside, and she's already rousing a little, but her groan of pain sounds foggy and thick. Her body is warm against him and her hand dangles down the front of his his chest as he eases her from the fireman's carry onto the couch. A part of him registers that this is the most physical contact he's had with her in weeks. A bigger part of him is busy assessing her vitals and figuring out just what the hell happened.
His cell phone beeps. Violet, returning his 911 text. He pushes the speakerphone, then puts the phone down and tries to focus on Charlotte again.
"Cooper?"
"Hey, Vi."
"You dialed, then hung up."
"Bit of a situation here, Vi. I need you."
Her voice goes suddenly professional. "What happened?"
More groans from the direction of the couch, and he shoves the phone away in irritation. "Get Addison to fill you in on the patient she and Charlotte had, then get over here. I have to go, Vi, I think Charlotte's coming to, and..."
"Coming to? Was she unconscious?"
"Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Look, I have a crisis here, just..."
"Okay. I'm on it. Hang tight."
He swats the phone off the table, and it hangs up. "Charlotte? Baby?"
She cuddles into the couch cushion, hiding her face from him. And her voice comes out in a raspy whisper. "Don't talk. Don't touch."
He nods, pulls a chair over to a spot where he can watch her. And he sits, watching her breathe. That's how Violet finds them when, an eternity later, she lets knocks softly on his door and lets herself in.
To his dismay, the first thing Violet does is demand he make coffee.
"But..."
"Coop," she says gently. "I need you out of here right now."
"I should stay with her. She..."
"She's been triggered, big-time. I need to figure out what's happened beyond that, and if you're going to be a potential distraction, I need you gone."
"I'll hold."
"It isn't you I'm worrying about. Cooper, if there's something she'd hold back because she doesn't want you hearing it..."
He has to admit, that point is fair. He'd like to think he's her rock and that he's there for her, but he knows his girl, and her instinct, when she's hurting, is to hide or to run. He reminds himself that this isn't about him. He just wants her better. And wasn't he the one who suggested therapy in the first place? If that little bit of extra distance from it not being him is what it takes to get her to open up, isn't that a small price to pay?
"Hey..." Violet pats his arm gently. "You'll be here, after. When she's done, when it's settled, you'll be here for her. Right?"
"Okay. I'll make coffee."
He peeks over his shoulder as he leaves and the last thing he sees is Violet is right up by Charlotte, speaking softly, keeping her hand on the cushion, almost -but not quite- touching Charlotte's arm.