Crutch
Junior reluctantly walked up the stairs of the estate that was the Old Man's newest base of operations. He still couldn't believe that he agreed to come to the meeting today. He and Guerrero had returned the day before yesterday from a gruelling mission overseas and were scheduled for at least a couple of weeks off. Yet a late call at the beginning of yesterday's all-nighter put to rest any hopes of a vacation or even a small break. Guerrero was rarely one to refuse an assignment and Junior, though exhausted and, truthfully, a little fed up, was never one to disappoint the Old Man. After all, the guy had done so much for him over the years, he was practically like a father to him.
Approaching the room where they were all scheduled to meet, he saw Baptiste and DeMarco standing in the hall, heavily engaged in conversation. They both smiled in greeting when they noticed their colleague arrive.
"Hey, Junior. Didn't think we'd see you here so bright and early." DeMarco raised her brows sarcastically."Thought you'd be hungover at least until this afternoon. Or maybe some time tomorrow. What's the deal?"
"That was the original plan. Just got a little side-tracked along the way." Junior smiled wryly.
"Thought the Old Man wasn't supposed to call you two back for a few weeks. What happened, mate? Couldn't stand being away from it all?"
"Yeah, I wish. He called last minute and didn't exactly leave us much say in the matter. Did he tell you guys anything about the next assignment?"
"Nothing much except that the four of us are going to have to travel to Boston. He never really discusses details over the phone," DeMarco replied.
Junior looked around and checked his watch. "You seen Guerrero around? He said he'd be here."
"He was. Albeit briefly."
"Where'd he go?" Junior turned to Baptiste.
"Couldn't tell you, mate. He received a call.." Baptiste narrowed his eyes, "Wasn't exactly eavesropping but I distinctly heard him say something about a hospital. Left in quite a hurry, without any elaboration."
"Hospital?" Junior frowned in confusion. His thoughts went immediately to Sarah. "Did he say which one? Anything?" he urged.
Baptiste offered an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, mate. He just took off."
Junior started to turn to head back out the way he came.
"Junior, any idea what this is about?" Baptiste called after him.
"No," he lied. "Just want to make sure everything's alright."
Baptiste looked skeptical. "Right."
Junior was halfway down the hall. "Bye, guys. Cover for me?"
He exited the building without event and took out his cell phone as he got into his car. He dialed as he started up the vehicle and left the grounds. He reached Guerrero's voicemail and swore under his breath. He tried again a few minutes with equal luck.
.
"Goddamn it, dude, can't you take a fucking hint?" Guerrero cursed to himself, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket for, what was it now? The third time in the past twenty minutes? He considered turning it off but ultimately decided against it. He definitely wasn't up for any distractions right now but he was waiting for a call. He had tried to reach Eric, Sarah's brother, earlier this morning but had had to leave a message.
He had no idea how long he'd been sitting here, alone in this barren white room, waiting. It felt like an eternity. By now, he had convinced himself that this was the worst part. The waiting. Sitting on the sidelines, helpless to intervene, with everything that ever mattered to you placed in the hands of strangers. In his solitude he had begun to wonder just how many times over his career he had put someone else in this predicament. Each time the thought surfaced, he silenced it, unwilling to delve into that territory, knowing that the answer would be alarmingly more than he cared to admit.
Consequences. He knew deep down that no one could live the life of those in the fold without one day having to pay the price...but Sarah? It just didn't make any sense. He looked down and noticed with some apprehension just how hard his hands were gripping the armrests. He tilted his head back and propped it against the wall behind his chair, sighing. Maybe he could use a distraction, after all.
Left to his thoughts, he recalled the day's events yet again. How ridiculous, in retrospect, that his biggest regret waking up this morning was that he had stupidly agreed to return to work so soon after that last contract. He had been standing around listening to the exchange of mission anecdotes between Baptiste and DeMarco when he received the call from the hospital. Sarah must have given his number as a contact should something happen to her which, against all odds, simply had to. A head-on car collision; one driver dead, the other critical. Everything that happened between then and the moment he saw her became a blur of anxiety. Standing in the trauma unit, despair quickly took over.
The nurse who lead him there politely retreated back into the bustling traffic around the room. Holding his breath, Guerrero looked down at Sarah's unconscious form. She had an array of cuts and bruises all over her face and arms, the dark already blooming though it had apparently been less than an hour since the accident. He could see the beginning of a wound on her chest that remained hidden under her hospital gown. She was deathly pale, despite the IV lines and intubation. Her eyes staring vacantly ahead, he would have sworn she was already dead if not for the slow steady beep of the ECG. A few seconds later, he noted with growing alarm that she was also hooked up to an EEG. Head wound, he thought, forcing himselg to look at her eyes. Uneven pupils. He was hit with an entirely unfamiliar feeling of dread.
Fighting a wave of panic, he took her hand in his. Cold to the touch. "Sarah?" his whispered. "Sarah.." he tried again, voice almost breaking, not sure if he should even try to wake her. No response. He knew better than to have expected one but couldn't help but try. He leaned down to kiss her forehead and as he pulled back, he stroked her hair, streaked with dried blood, back behind her ear. He closed his eyes briefly, attempting to collect himself.
*Bzzzz*
He jolted in his chair, startled from his thoughts by the sudden vibrating of his phone. Junior. Again. Conflicting emotions warred within him as he stared blankly at the lit screen. He must know something's up, put two and two together. Probably worried about me. Junior's funny like that sometimes. Need conquered in his inner struggle and Guerrero answered, staying silent.
Junior was caught off guard when the ringing stopped and he heard nothing but white noise. "...Uh, Guerrero? Are you there?"
Silence still.
"Hello?"
"...bro."
"Guerrero. What's going on? Where are you?" The relief and urgency were palpable in his voice.
"Hospital, dude."
"What happened?"
"It's...it's Sarah. She was, uh, in an accident. Car crash on the highway."
His voice seemed so distant and small. Junior waited a few seconds for him to continue, unease growing by the second. He hadn't been expecting anything like this. "Shit.. is she ok?"
More silence.
Guerrero leaned forward in his chair, his eyes averted downwards, not sure how to continue. It's not like the thought had ever let up, even for a few seconds, since the moment he saw her and, more so, since speaking with her doctors; it's just that having to speak the words aloud made him feel that much closer to accepting the truth. He ran his free hand through his hair. "No. She isn't. Doctors said she's..." A sharp inhalation of breath, "I'm gonna lose her, bro. Think I'm gonna lose them both."
Junior found himself at a loss for words. "Jesus, Guerrero. I..I'm sorry, man. Are you sure? I mean, isn't there at least something they can do for the baby?"
"Yeah. They're uh..doing what they can, should be going into surgery pretty soon.. But he's..." Guerrero sighed and shook his head, "he's almost two months premature and they don't know the extent of the injuries yet. I don't..." His voice trailed off.
"Look, bro. I really can't talk right now. I'll get back to you later."
"Guerrero, wait a second-"
"What?" he barked.
"I'm on my way to the hospital now. I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Dude. No," said through clenched teeth.
"Guerrero."
"Junior, I don't exactly need an audience right now, you know? I need to be alone."
He thought about it a second longer and added, "It's not really any of your business anyway."
"My business? Oh come on, man. You two have been together, what, five years? Six? You're practically family, given the amount of time we've spent together. Sarah's -"
"Look dude, I don't need you here making this any harder for me, ok? So please, just leave it alone."
"I just-"
"Go home, Junior," he growled then snapped his phone shut, breathing hard and staring at the offensive device. On impulse, he whipped it across the room as hard as he could. He felt a fleeting sense of satisfaction as he watched it leave a small dent on the wall from the impact.
A few seconds later, adrenaline fading, he realized he had started trembling. Looking listlessly at his phone on the floor across from him, he registered that his emotions were getting out of hand. He rationalized that he wasn't actually mad at Junior, just overwhelmingly frustrated with his situation with no other means of channelling it. He meant what he said though about wanting to be alone. He didn't want anyone to see him like this. Vulnerable. Compromised. He and Junior had been through a lot together, had seen the best and worst of one another over the years. But this? This was too much. He pressed his face into his palms, elbows on his knees, and slid his hands up into his hair to support his head. He remained seated like that a good while, hoping that the shakes would pass.
.
"Sir?" Guerrero lifted his head, a bit startled. He blinked a few times. Had he almost fallen asleep? He couldn't even tell. Everything was starting to have that fog effect again.
"Yeah." He stood up, wavering slightly on his feet. He studied the woman's face, trying to predict what kind of news she was bearing. "How are they?"
"We just wanted to let you know that the surgery is now underway." She met his gaze. "We encountered some delay as there were a few complications with the anesthesia, as was to be expected. You understand that, given the damage she's sustained, the brain injury in particular, combined with her pregnancy... Well, hers was anything but a simple induction. She began to seize both times we attempted to induce her but we have managed to stabilize her. And the infant's readings seem normal as of yet, so that's also good news. We believe that the delivery will go smoothly." At that, she paused. "Do you have any questions?"
It took him a few seconds to respond as it didn't immediately register that she was asking him a question. He had hundreds of questions, in fact, but didn't feel that asking them would accomplish anything. "Not really."
She observed him carefully. He seemed as though he might fall down. "Sir, is there anything you need or someone you'd like us to call for you?"
He shook his head again wearily but his eyes didn't meet hers.
"I know how difficult this must be for you. We are doing everything we possibly can. We will keep you informed, alright?"
"Thanks."
Alone once again, he stood in the middle of the room for a moment, feeling lost. He checked his watch to gain back some sense of orientation. He noted, in disbelief, that over an hour and a half had passed since his conversation with Junior and, amazingly, the man still hadn't shown up. Knowing him as well as he did, he realized it was a small miracle to have gotten the last word in, for once, but on the otherhand, he felt a small pang of disappointment at his absence. Going soft. Got to buck up.
Spotting his phone once again out of the corner of his eye, he remembered Sarah's brother. Eric and Guerrero didn't have the greatest history; he couldn't stand the guy, to be honest. He knew though that, differences aside, it was imperative that he be here now, being the only family she had left. Guerrero reasoned that, with some effort, they could temporarily put up with each other for her. He picked up his cell, inspecting its integrity after the abuse inflicted upon it earlier. Ok at a cursory glance. No missed calls though, to his dismay. He had been pretty straight-forward with his message and couldn't understand why the guy hadn't gotten back to him. He knew he received it, Eric was practically glued to his phone. He resolved to try again.
The phone rang against his ear for an unusually long time before the call was answered with a gruff "What the hell do you want?"
"Yeah, nice to talk to you too, Eric."
Silence.
Guerrero cut to the chase. "Did you get my message?"
"I erased it. I told you I didn't want to hear from you. Get Sarah to call me if it's that important."
Guerrero glared ahead and involuntarily clenched the fist of his free hand. Patience. "That's just great, dude. 'Cause if you had listened to it, you'd know your sister was in a car crash this morning..that- that she could just go at any time. And you would be here, asshole."
Stunned silence, followed by "Sarah was in an accident?"
Guerrero said nothing.
"Wait, is this a joke? Your idea of a test or something?"
"Wish I could say it was."
"Christ. How bad is she?"
"Pretty bad, dude. She fractured her skull." He paused a second. "They're having trouble keeping the pressure in her head down and ..well, she's lost a lot of blood. The doctors are in surgery now with her."
"Surgery? Do they think that they'll be able to save her?"
Guerrero sighed. "They really didn't sound too optimistic. They'll try but they're hoping to at least save the baby." He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, almost wincing as he recalled the last time they had seen the man. Never a supporter of their relationship, Eric became infuriated when he learned about the pregnancy. The encounter left Sarah in tears and it took every ounce of control Guerrero possessed to not break the man's jaw before throwing him out of their house.
"The baby. Of course. So, I gotta know Jack, exactly who's call was that? Theirs or yours?"
Guerrero was taken aback. "What?" He started to pace, "Eric, this isn't about me. There was no call. You don't get it, dude. You didn't hear the prognosis. Or see her- You don't know what you're talking about."
"No, maybe not, Jack. But I do know one thing. I told her all along that if she stuck with you, she'd end up dead. One way or another." His voice became distant, as though he were talking to himself. "I tried to tell her but she just wouldn't listen."
Guerrero looked skyward in desperation. "Fuck you, man. It was a goddamned accident on the highway! Probably a drunk-driver, for all I know. And, before you waste more time taking another cheap shot at me, just think about her for one second. You're her brother, you should be there for her.. in case she comes to." He didn't want it to sound too much like the plea that it was.
After a good five-second pause, "I can't..."
"Dude, come on."
"She's my baby sister and I'll always love her but..I don't think I could bear to see her like that."
Guerrero opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted before he could find a voice to.
"And I don't think I ever want to see you again either. You know, i f you loved her so much, you would've looked out for her. She'd be perfectly fine right now, safe and sound, if she'd never met you." The hitching in his voice gave him away, Eric was on the verge of crying and abruptly ended the call.
Guerrero absorbed the unexpected turn of the conversation in shock and pocketed his phone. He stood in place, staring out at nothing until he realized that he had been holding his breath so long, it started to burn in his chest. He inhaled suddenly and it took his remaining strength to fight off his body's urge to start hyperventilating. He steadied himself against the nearest wall. He was so enraged with everything that had and was transpiring that he found himself looking around for something to destroy. It was that or murder, though he knew neither was truly an option. He had to get out of this suffocating room, even if just a few minutes and clear his mind.
Finding his composure, he stood up and straightened himself out. He left the privacy of the room he had been in all morning and treaded slowly down the corridor. There weren't as many people bustling around as there had been when he arrived but he still tried to pass by them unnoticed. He stopped to gaze at an emergency exit diagram on the wall near the stairwell, as good a distraction as any, when he felt the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end. He was being watched.
His training the farthest thing from his mind at the moment, he pivoted abruptly around to do a visual sweep. He would actually be grateful for a confrontation at this point. At the other end of the hall, a couple of rooms over from his but in the opposite the direction, there was a man seated with a newspaper, staring straight at him and making no effort to be discreet. Guerrero sighed, not sure if he felt annoyed or relieved by the sight of Junior. They maintained eye contact, expressionless, but neither made a move at first.
Guerrero put his hands in his pockets and he crossed the distance to where Junior was. Hovering over him and casting a shadow over his paper, Guerrero crossed his arms over his chest. "Thought you were supposed to go home, Junior." He cocked an eyebrow, inciting a response.
"Yeah, well. Couldn't help but think of what a good time you would be having here all by yourself." He tilted his head a tad defiantly and offered a faint smile before opting to stand.
"And what, bro? You've just been sitting out here in the hall the whole time?"
"Well, you did make it clear enough on the phone that you, um, wanted to be alone." Junior looked almost apologetic.
"Right. So that explains why you've been sitting there for almost two hours, spying on me or whatever the hell it is you think you're doing. What's the matter with you, dude?" He frowned, eyebrows knitted.
"Spying?" Junior half-heartedly laughed and rolled his eyes. "Really, Guerrero. If that wasn't so utterly ridiculous, I'd be hurt that you'd think so little of me."
Guerrero glared back at him, still seemingly braced for a fight. Junior sighed. He really didn't want things to get physical even if that was their usual way of working out their disagreements. Junior could see that the smaller man was already dead on feet, exhausted and swaying slightly. He was dark under the eyes and his hair was unusually disheveled, an indication that he must have run his hands through it over and over, an unconscientious response to the stress he was under.
"Look, Guerrero. I didn't want to upset you by.." he gestured vaguely with his hand, "intruding. I just thought that I should be here in case, you know, you needed me to." Junior looked down at him sincerely.
After a few seconds, Guerrero's expressioned softened and his posture became less tense. He felt awkward and looked down at the floor.
Sensing all hostility drained from his friend, Junior gently inquired, "How're you holding up?"
"Not so great, dude. Was going a bit stir crazy in there." He indicated his room with a tilt of his head.
"Want to take a walk? It might do us both some good," Junior stretched his arms to emphasize his point.
"Can't, bro. I have to stay here... She's being operated on and I want to be available whenever they have news."
"How is she doing?"
Guerrero inhaled, as if to speak but decided against it, looking around. He met his friend's eyes, "Don't really want to talk about it out here." Not exactly eager to return so soon but figuring it might not be so bad with company, he walked past Junior towards the waiting room. Junior gathered his backpack and paper and followed, accepting the invitation for what it was.