Here we are! Hope you are still interested in this story, 'cause I ain't done yet with these two.
Now, I know the thought of Cal going on dates (plural!) wasn't great, but as I could see it was actually a bit growing moment for him. I also wanted to go a different route, in so many stories Gillian is usually the one dating and I was curious about other possibilities.
I wanted to take a minute to let you know that sometimes I do like to share some "behind the scenes" on chapters I post in case you bring up specific questions in your reviews. I don't want to give spoilers and I wouldn't share future things, but more than happy to discuss how some of the things you've read came to be.
Now, with that said, we are about to start on a new arc.
A couple of weeks after he had fulfilled his promise to Emily and paid his dates due, Cal received another late night call.
This time it really was late night, not him just going to bed extra early for no particular reason. When the phone started ringing he didn't hear it at first, he was deep asleep and well, it was nearly 2 o'clock in the morning! Eventually, when the noise slowly but surely dragged him away from the arms of Morpheus, Cal opened his eyes and stared at the device blinking and buzzing on the nightstand. His mind took a moment to get into gear, then he realised that if someone was calling him in the middle of the night it must have been damn important.
Naturally, the first fully coherent thought was for his daughter. In the blink of an eye Cal forgot that he had been asleep and one rapid movement he grabbed the phone and answered, switching on the lights and already getting out of bed and scanning the room for the nearest piece of clothing.
"Emily! Are you ok? What-"
Cal had the phone stuck between his shoulder and ear, his hands trying to make sense of the trousers he had grabbed hold off backwards and was trying to locate his shoes. His mind was already alerted to the fact that the call was related to this daughter, and it took him a while to realise that the person on the other end of the line was not Emily, and wasn't even talking about Emily.
"When?" Cal asked then, slowing down his frantic movement so that he could focus on what the caller was saying. "How?" He asked then, puzzled. "Ok, where then?"
With the information stored away in his memory Cal hung up the phone and finished dressing, still fast but not as panicky as before. Not that he didn't have any reason too, on the contrary, but he was simply too flabbergasted by what he had just heard to be able to think or act straight. He knew the words the man on the phone had used, he recognised them and could see the pattern they formed once put all together, but somehow they made no sense to him.
Cal was still trying to figure it all out, thinking that perhaps he'd just better accept what he had been told and stop being so in denial about it, when he arrived at the Sacred Heart Hospital. He had never heard of that one, and he fancied himself with being rather familiar with medical establishments in the capital due to his work. The hospital was a small facility in the outskirts of the city, almost a rural area, and when Cal walked through the ER doors and headed towards the reception desk he thought the information he had given made even less sense.
"I'm Cal Lightman," he mumbled at the sleepy clerk behind the desk. "I was called about Gillian Foster."
It was all he could say, his eyes wandering around the seemingly quiet emergency room with studying eyes. It was a small hospital and clearly they didn't get much late night action, he could tell by the nurses dozing off and doctors taking advantage to catch up on their charts, and he had to keep wondering how Gillian had ended up there. They were nowhere near her house, miles off the office or any other usual hangouts of her he could think about. Yet, she must have not been far when it had happened, otherwise she wouldn't have been brought there. Of course, there were plenty of reasons why she might have been in the area and he simply wasn't privy to them because what she did in her spare time was none of his business.
After a long and silent wait, the nurse eventually finished checking her records and told him to take a seat and wait for Dr Lyle. Cal didn't sit and instead tried to nudge out of the woman something about Gillian's conditions, but she stonewalled him with a simple 'I don't know' and went back to looking bored and sleepy. He mumbled something and stepped away but still didn't sit, instead took his phone out his pocket and checked the calls and messages log. He wasn't sure what he was hoping or expecting to find, but there was nothing from Gillian over the past 12 hours or so.
Absently caressing his beard, Cal went through the latest texts they had exchanged in the afternoon, about needing to make time to go through Torres' shortlist of candidates for an internship position. Aside from the underlying sadness that 90% of their interactions were always about work those days, he couldn't see anything strange in there. Granted, it was just a text but she had seemed perfectly fine throughout the day. Then, shocking himself, Cal realised what he was doing and forced himself to stop. Gillian had been in an accident, he still didn't know how bad it was and concern for her should be the only thing on his mind.
Dr Lyle came to rescue him from his thoughts shortly after. The woman seemed not much older than Emily and Cal moaned inwardly, but when she started talking he was reassured by what seemed to be a very prepared physician and, most importantly, someone who didn't beat around the bush.
"Mr Lightman, your wife-"
"Dr Foster is not my wife," he shut that down quickly, for some reason scared out of his mind at the thought. "We work together, I am her emergency contact."
It all felt immediately wrong as he said it, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mind. An emergency contact, was that really all that he was? But Cal didn't linger on that thought, he just wanted to make the record clear and avoid silly confusion, and most importantly he only wanted to know how Gillian was.
"Dr Foster was involved in a car accident earlier tonight. She was conscious on scene but did black out in the ambulance for a little while." The doctor went on, clearly not interested in whatever arrangement they might have had. "The airbag deployed so the impact was controlled, but she did suffer from a displaced ulna in her left arm and a small head injury."
"So she's…" Cal tilted his head on one side, trying to read the woman in front of him. "She's ok?"
"Yes, all considered. We are going to keep her overnight, I want to do a second MRI tomorrow just to make sure that there is no swelling in the brain and to monitor her pain levels." Dr Lyle stopped, looking at the confused expression of the man standing in front of her. She might have been still a young resident but she knew that look; it was the face of someone who came in ready to receive horrible news and struggled to accept he was getting good ones instead. "She's ok, Mr Lightman, just a little banged up."
Cal took a moment to process, way too relieved to worry about correcting the doctor on his title, then nodded to himself.
"What happened exactly?" He asked then, unable to fully hide the residual confusion. "On the phone they only told me she had an accident."
"What I know is that it seemed she lost control of her car and went out of the road, hitting a tree on the passenger side."
Cal could tell that, unlike with the medical stuff, she was being careful. It probably wasn't her place to share that kind of details, but he couldn't help but notice that her reluctance seemed to run deeper than that. Habits were hard to kill, he made a living out of reading people after all, and when Cal latched onto that he wasn't able to let go.
"Was someone else involved?" He asked then. "Another car or a passenger?"
Dr Lyle frowned, clearly wondering why he was staring at her so intensely, then shook her head.
"No, she was alone and there were no other vehicles involved."
"Well, what is it then?" Cal was honestly trying not to be too aggressive, but he knew there was something the doctor wasn't sharing and he needed to know what it was. "You said she's ok, that nobody else was hurt. What's the problem then?"
She was confused, and feeling a bit attacked, but mostly she was trying to figure out how he would know there was more with that degree of certainty. Dr Lyle had faced many friends and relatives losing their mind over a loved one being hurt, questioning medical decisions and letting their fear guide their actions and thoughts. Most of them would calm down when told everything was ok, that there was no more danger, but the man in front of her seemed to be suddenly on a quest, and she soon realised she didn't want to deal with it if she could help it.
"I think," she muttered, hesitantly, absently looking behind his shoulder, "you might want to talk to the police."
Only then, catching on her unsure voice, Cal thought that maybe he didn't want to know anymore. Then he followed her gaze behind him, noticing a police officer at the end of the hallway, talking on his phone and throwing frequent and impatient glances at a nurse working on something.
Cal had been confused enough up to that point already and the presence of a cop, knowing it wasn't random but somehow connected to Gillian's accident, didn't help. Honestly puzzled, Cal looked back at the doctor but it was clear that she didn't want to get involved past discussing the patient's conditions. He had to figure it out on his own, and given his background it was far too easy. If Gillian had been alone in the car and no other vehicle had been involved, there really was only one possible explanation for the policeman posted outside what he came to believe was her room.
And it didn't make any sense.
"Blood test," he mumbled then, talking to the doctor but looking at the cop. "You've done those?"
"Not for substances." Dr Lyle informed him in a low voice. "When she arrived with the ambulance there was no reason for it."
"But he wants one," Cal muttered, this time looking at her and nodding over at the cop. "I guess he didn't get it if he's still here."
"He needs a warrant for that." She wasn't entirely sure she was supposed to share that kind of information, but something about the way that man was reacting to it all made her think that he should know. "Our main concern is the patients' care."
Cal gave her a small nod, then thanked her and looked over at the cop. He seemed to be getting restless, probably chasing some judge or superior to get his warrant and be done with it. Part of him was adamant that all that chasing and waiting was a waste of time, that the test he wanted would never come back positive, not in a million years. He had just about wrapped his mind around the fact that Gillian was ok, and that he was still her emergency contact for that matter, and he could not fathom the possibility that she might have been drunk behind the wheel.
Quite frankly, with all the work they did with law enforcement, sometimes for them really, he found it despicable that they would even consider something like that.
Cal thought about his next move for a few more minutes, starting to feel like time was of the essence, then started to walk towards the officer. He had come off the phone in the meantime but still looked pretty much in a rush, and as he approached Cal realised he had to play nice so he made sure to check his wallet before coming close enough to speak.
"Officer, how do you do?" He flashed him a smile, trying his damndest not to sound or look antagonising.
Understandably, the cop looked down at the shorter man with the thick beard, way too energised considering it was the middle of the night, then squared him off with an inquiring gaze.
"I'm sorry sir, I'm busy at the moment-"
"Well, you're just waiting really, aren't ya?" Cal quipped then gently offered him his business card. "I'm Dr Cal Lightman. My colleague, Dr Foster, and I…we work with you lot quite a bit. Ever heard of us?"
He hadn't, and clearly he wasn't up to play ball even he had. The officer wasn't from DC but just some smaller local jurisdiction, probably one that had ever needed the service of the Lightman & Foster Group, and that particular cop wasn't impressed by the man from Washington with the fancy business card.
"What can I do for you, Dr Lightman?"
But he was polite, Cal would give him that much.
"You see, I got called in the middle of the night because my friend and business partner was in a crash." Cal was treading carefully, not wanting to play his hand too overtly. "Scared the crap out of me really, I thought it was about my daughter!" There, as he had thought, the officer was a family man and his stance softened just a bit. "The nice doctor over there told me my friend is going to be ok but I was just wondering if you would be so kind as to tell me what happened?"
The officer kept looking at him, hard as hell to read for Cal. Not because he was a particularly good liar, Cal thought the man was just in possession of only that one stoney and immobile face, but mostly because his opponent seemed to be taking his sweet ass time in deciding if and how to respond.
"I was posted on the interstate going out of town with a speed camera, we've had calls about racing going on out there." Cal had to bite his tongue not to laugh, thinking the man was way too serious and proud about being a traffic cop. "Your friend's car passed by, 20 miles or so over the limit, and ran straight at the big left turn." Once again, he had to fight back a burst of hilarity, only this time it would have been the hysterical laugh of a man faced with something impossible. "I got in my cruiser and caught up to her, I'm the one who called the ambulance."
"Well that was mighty nice of you, Officer?"
"Ollison."
"Officer Ollison, right. Real nice." Cal put his hand out his hand. "I really have to thank you, it was a blessing that you were there." The officer returned the gesture, a bit dubious. "Thank you for helping, I can take it from here now."
"I'm afraid that's not possible, Dr Lightman."
"I'm sure you have better things to do. You know, real criminals to catch and all that."
Cal knew the moment he spoke that he had pushed too much. He wanted to hate the zealous Officer Ollison but he struggled to: yes, the bastard was insinuating - hell, he was convinced - that Gillian had been drunk driving and that was beyond ridiculous; but he was also doing his job, and if it had been anybody else Cal would have probably recognised that he wasn't too off the mark in at least considering the possibility. And, who knows, maybe him being the first on scene had prevented Gillian's conditions from being way worse.
"Alright then," he said after a while, clenching his jaw when he realised that he wasn't going any further with that line of action. "Any luck with you warrant?"
Cal figured if the cop wasn't going to play nice, neither was he. He saw the flicker of annoyance in Ollison's face, not directed at him but to the procedure he was hoping to unblock, and grinned sheepishly. The officer in front of him might have not heard about them, but it seemed as though someone above him was more familiar with the name - and reputation - of someone who had made the local law enforcement and legal system look mighty efficient for years. He was probably going to get his warrant eventually, but it wasn't going to be as easy as he had thought.
"Where's her car?"
That wasn't really what he wanted to ask, he had a very different question in mind, but he knew he had to go around it. What he did need to know was the location of the vehicle, then he could take it from there.
"It was towed," the officer replied with a rough voice.
"Yeah, figured you didn't leave it wrapped around a tree on the side of the road. Got a number?" Ollison seemed to think about it, to whether he had room to deny his request based on something other than the growing dislike for the man. "I'm pretty sure you have no reason not to tell me, but we can always call my lawyer and find out."
Finally! It had taken the mention of a lawyer, but eventually the officer seemed to realise that no matter how dedicated he was to his job there was a limit to the amount of troubles he was willing to go through for a DUI. Cal was grinning from ear to ear, watching as the officer took out his notepad and gave Cal the card of the towing company, then he stepped away deciding to pick a different spot to wait for his green light to come.
Happy with his temporary win, Cal couldn't bask too long in it. It really was, in the end, something stupid to celebrate. Aside from engaging in a pissing contest with the policeman investigating - was that what he was doing? - on Gillian's accident, and possibly destroying any avenue he had to be close to it, he hadn't really accomplished much. Not yet at least.
He was still mulling over it, absently flipping the towing company card in his fingers, when a nurse came out of the room Ollison had been guarding.
"Excuse me love, is Gillian Foster in there?" The nurse blushed slightly at the bearded man asking so kindly, then nodded. "Any chance I can go in there to say hi?"
"Only if you promise not to wake her," the woman warned him, and Cal gave her an enthusiastic nod.
"Cross my heart!"
He accompanied his words with a gesture, then waited for the nurse to walk away. For good measure, childishly defiant, Cal made sure that the cop saw him then he entered the room. The first thing his mind flashed at him was something crazy: the last time he had seen her in a hospital bed they had still been together. Gillian looked a lot better than that time, nearly a year before, and Cal was almost positive that the nurse he had just spoken to had not injected her with something deadly. She was sleeping, not unconscious, and Cal couldn't help but recognise some telling signs of the deep sleep of someone who might have enjoyed themselves a little too much. There was a small cut on her forehead and a bruise on her swollen cheek, but aside from that and the splint around her left forearm and hand she looked as ok as Dr Lyle had said she was.
Cal approached the bed as much as he could, doing his best to be careful and not make a peep. He watched her for a while, holding his breath and hoping she would just wake on her own and talk to him, tell him what really happened and confirm for him that the cop out there was wasting his time.
But she didn't wake up. Gillian kept sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of anything going on around her, and eventually Cal quietly left the room, ignoring the glare Officer Ollison shot at him as he made his own call on the way out.
What did you think? Something you were expecting?