Fifty five days of hell. That was what Taylor had been through. It was now three am on Christmas Day morning and Taylor was sat in her usual seat watching over the still coma-ridden detective.
Her eyes were permanently red rimmed from a combination of lack of sleep, and tears that the lack of sleep allowed for her to shed so often. She fingered the ribbon on his present – a guitar – and sighed. It was killing her that the only time she could be there was the dead of night.
Her eyes were permanently red rimmed from a combination of lack of sleep, and tears that the lack of sleep allowed for her to shed so often. She fingered the ribbon on his present – a guitar – and sighed. It was killing her that the only time she could be there was the dead of night.
Three days after Flack had been moved into the recovery room, his parents arrived. They had been in New Orleans visiting his sister (who was going to come up on a later flight after she had arranged for childcare) and that was the earliest they could get back to New York.
Taylor had been sat in the very same chair, just watching his chest rise and fall. She had barely left his bedside, short of going to his en suite bathroom. Marty had called in with a bag of her things for her when he figured she wouldn’t be home in a while.
When the nurse came in and awoke her that morning (the nurses had no problem with Taylor staying – most of them assumed she was his girlfriend anyway) she knew it wasn’t going to be a good day - for her, not Flack.
While the nurse took his vitals and other observations, Taylor ducked into his bathroom for a wash. When she came out a man who looked like an older version of Flack, and a woman with the same blue eyes, were entering the room. Both were looking suspiciously at Taylor.
“Hi,” she offered as she tried, unsuccessfully, to discreetly push her toothbrush into her bag. Flack’s mother ignored her and went straight to the seat Taylor had previously occupied and began stroking Flack’s face, muttering, “Oh, my poor baby,” under her breath.
Flack’s father, however, just glared at Taylor. “Who are you?” he demanded.
Taylor could see where Flack got his ‘intimidating detective’ routine from. “I… I’m Taylor Turner, sir.”
“Get out,” he told her. Taylor blinked – that was not quite the reaction she was expecting. “I will not have some two-bit, trashy reporter lurking around my son, waiting for an exclusive story, whilst he is trying to recover.”
“With all due respect, sir, I don’t need to talk to your son for a story,” Taylor retorted. “I was there, right next to him when the bomb exploded.”
Flack Senior’s eyes bulged. “You’re the reason my son is in here?”
“No,” said Taylor carefully. “Lessing is the man who set the bombs. He is the reason Don is in here.”
“Are you saying that you’re not the girl Donnie was saving?” his mother piped up, clearly taking her husband’s side.
“I was one of the people in the building, but I wasn’t the only one,” Taylor corrected her.
“Well then, you are the reason my baby is in here fighting for his life,” said Mrs Flack. “You shouldn’t have been in the building.”
“It’s where I work, and we have every right to be working there, even on a Sunday,” Taylor told her, trying not to do so through gritted teeth.
“Get out,” Flack Senior repeated.
Taylor looked at him. He had an ‘end of discussion’ expression on his face – and decided that maybe the best course of action was to leave and return later.
Only, Flack Senior seemed to be on the same wavelength. He followed her out of the room and called after her. “Don’t come back. I don’t want you anywhere near my son, ever again!”
Taylor had been sat in the very same chair, just watching his chest rise and fall. She had barely left his bedside, short of going to his en suite bathroom. Marty had called in with a bag of her things for her when he figured she wouldn’t be home in a while.
When the nurse came in and awoke her that morning (the nurses had no problem with Taylor staying – most of them assumed she was his girlfriend anyway) she knew it wasn’t going to be a good day - for her, not Flack.
While the nurse took his vitals and other observations, Taylor ducked into his bathroom for a wash. When she came out a man who looked like an older version of Flack, and a woman with the same blue eyes, were entering the room. Both were looking suspiciously at Taylor.
“Hi,” she offered as she tried, unsuccessfully, to discreetly push her toothbrush into her bag. Flack’s mother ignored her and went straight to the seat Taylor had previously occupied and began stroking Flack’s face, muttering, “Oh, my poor baby,” under her breath.
Flack’s father, however, just glared at Taylor. “Who are you?” he demanded.
Taylor could see where Flack got his ‘intimidating detective’ routine from. “I… I’m Taylor Turner, sir.”
“Get out,” he told her. Taylor blinked – that was not quite the reaction she was expecting. “I will not have some two-bit, trashy reporter lurking around my son, waiting for an exclusive story, whilst he is trying to recover.”
“With all due respect, sir, I don’t need to talk to your son for a story,” Taylor retorted. “I was there, right next to him when the bomb exploded.”
Flack Senior’s eyes bulged. “You’re the reason my son is in here?”
“No,” said Taylor carefully. “Lessing is the man who set the bombs. He is the reason Don is in here.”
“Are you saying that you’re not the girl Donnie was saving?” his mother piped up, clearly taking her husband’s side.
“I was one of the people in the building, but I wasn’t the only one,” Taylor corrected her.
“Well then, you are the reason my baby is in here fighting for his life,” said Mrs Flack. “You shouldn’t have been in the building.”
“It’s where I work, and we have every right to be working there, even on a Sunday,” Taylor told her, trying not to do so through gritted teeth.
“Get out,” Flack Senior repeated.
Taylor looked at him. He had an ‘end of discussion’ expression on his face – and decided that maybe the best course of action was to leave and return later.
Only, Flack Senior seemed to be on the same wavelength. He followed her out of the room and called after her. “Don’t come back. I don’t want you anywhere near my son, ever again!”
And that was how Taylor came to spending the nights and early mornings with Don, without his parent’s knowledge. She knew she was tempting fate, but she couldn’t leave him until he was awake. Just in case...
During the visiting hours, she was usually around, hiding out in the nurse’s office. After she had been kicked out of Flack’s room, she had burst into tears. The nurses had ushered her into their staff room and unanimously agreed that they would look the other way if she stayed the night, as well as telling her that they would wake her – they had also agreed she could sleep in one of the cots during the day, when Flack’s parents were around – should anything go wrong.
Ghost wise, she had had no visits other than from Aiden and Maddy.
During the visiting hours, she was usually around, hiding out in the nurse’s office. After she had been kicked out of Flack’s room, she had burst into tears. The nurses had ushered her into their staff room and unanimously agreed that they would look the other way if she stayed the night, as well as telling her that they would wake her – they had also agreed she could sleep in one of the cots during the day, when Flack’s parents were around – should anything go wrong.
Ghost wise, she had had no visits other than from Aiden and Maddy.
It was the middle of the night, and the only sounds were the beeping of Flack’s machines and his steady breathing. That was until Maddy and Aiden appeared: together, it was near impossible for a room to remain quiet.
“Hey, Tay,” Maddy greeted her friend. “How you holding up?”
Taylor simply sent her a scathing look.
Maddy held her hands up. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault.”
“You could have warned me!” Taylor exclaimed.
“I tried,” Aiden told her with a shrug.
“Tried? It was more like a hypothetical question. ‘What would I do if he died before next week even started’?” Taylor rolled her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I got in enough trouble over that as it was.”
Taylor rubbed her eyes. “No, I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’m just not really sleeping at the moment. My temper’s a little short.”
There was a slight awkward silence, which Aiden promptly broke. “So guess what we’ve been doing?”
Taylor managed a small smile, thankful for the relief the change of conversation brought. “Do I want to know?”
“Well, we answered many of life’s unanswered questions,” Maddy told her, gleefully.
“So, what’s the meaning of life?”
Maddy pulled a face. “Not those types of questions. They’re boring.”
Aiden laughed. “Mac does actually have an apartment! He doesn’t live at the lab. He has a pet cat, too. Called Smudge!” She cracked up laughing.
“And Danny sleeps nude,” Maddy smirked. Taylor wasn’t surprised Maddy enjoyed that fact.
“Okay enough of the mental images of Danny naked,” said Aiden, rolling her eyes, “The guy is like a brother: that’s just wrong.”
“For you maybe,” grinned Maddy. “All I can say is Lindsay is going to be one happy girl.” Taylor arched an eyebrow in question. Maddy and Aiden’s jaws dropped open. “You don’t know?” asked Maddy, rather melodramatically.
“Know what?” Taylor sighed.
“Danny and Lindsay are an unofficial item.”
“What do you mean, unofficial item?” she asked slowly.
“They’re seeing each other, but they haven’t told anyone.”
“Perhaps that’s how I don’t know,” Taylor responded, sarcasm lacing her tone. “About time that boy caved.”
“Well, it seemed like they were moving in the right direction, but we speeded up the process,” said Maddy mysteriously.
Taylor pulled a face. “Again, do I want to know?”
Aiden laughed. “I nabbed Lindsay’s phone and sent Danny a text. They haven’t left each other’s side since.”
Taylor grinned. “I knew Lindsay wouldn’t care about his past.”
“Actually,” said Maddy. “He hasn’t told her yet.”
Taylor groaned. “Well, it’s a start, at least.”
Aiden nodded. “Give him time.”
“That’s quite a prophetic statement.”
“Um, Taylor, I’m dead, not psychic,” Aiden said, rolling her eyes.
“Hey, Tay,” Maddy greeted her friend. “How you holding up?”
Taylor simply sent her a scathing look.
Maddy held her hands up. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault.”
“You could have warned me!” Taylor exclaimed.
“I tried,” Aiden told her with a shrug.
“Tried? It was more like a hypothetical question. ‘What would I do if he died before next week even started’?” Taylor rolled her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I got in enough trouble over that as it was.”
Taylor rubbed her eyes. “No, I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’m just not really sleeping at the moment. My temper’s a little short.”
There was a slight awkward silence, which Aiden promptly broke. “So guess what we’ve been doing?”
Taylor managed a small smile, thankful for the relief the change of conversation brought. “Do I want to know?”
“Well, we answered many of life’s unanswered questions,” Maddy told her, gleefully.
“So, what’s the meaning of life?”
Maddy pulled a face. “Not those types of questions. They’re boring.”
Aiden laughed. “Mac does actually have an apartment! He doesn’t live at the lab. He has a pet cat, too. Called Smudge!” She cracked up laughing.
“And Danny sleeps nude,” Maddy smirked. Taylor wasn’t surprised Maddy enjoyed that fact.
“Okay enough of the mental images of Danny naked,” said Aiden, rolling her eyes, “The guy is like a brother: that’s just wrong.”
“For you maybe,” grinned Maddy. “All I can say is Lindsay is going to be one happy girl.” Taylor arched an eyebrow in question. Maddy and Aiden’s jaws dropped open. “You don’t know?” asked Maddy, rather melodramatically.
“Know what?” Taylor sighed.
“Danny and Lindsay are an unofficial item.”
“What do you mean, unofficial item?” she asked slowly.
“They’re seeing each other, but they haven’t told anyone.”
“Perhaps that’s how I don’t know,” Taylor responded, sarcasm lacing her tone. “About time that boy caved.”
“Well, it seemed like they were moving in the right direction, but we speeded up the process,” said Maddy mysteriously.
Taylor pulled a face. “Again, do I want to know?”
Aiden laughed. “I nabbed Lindsay’s phone and sent Danny a text. They haven’t left each other’s side since.”
Taylor grinned. “I knew Lindsay wouldn’t care about his past.”
“Actually,” said Maddy. “He hasn’t told her yet.”
Taylor groaned. “Well, it’s a start, at least.”
Aiden nodded. “Give him time.”
“That’s quite a prophetic statement.”
“Um, Taylor, I’m dead, not psychic,” Aiden said, rolling her eyes.
The first day she left the hospital hadn’t been until Thanksgiving. She didn’t have any plans, and therefore had no intention of leaving, but Marty had been in and dragged her back home. Something which she was later extremely thankful for.
“Marty? What are you doing here? It’s 7am!”
Marty shrugged. “Taking you home.”
Taylor shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, not until visiting hours, when you’ll hide in the nurse’s station.”
Taylor’s mouth dropped open. “How do you know about that?”
Marty sighed. “The whole lab knows, Taylor. Mac calls daily to see how Flack is doing, and when the nurses told him you had practically moved in, he started checking up on you too.”
“Really?” asked Taylor in disbelief.
Marty nodded. “We also all know how Flack’s parents won’t let you visit. Mac has tried to get them to change their minds, but they won’t listen to him.”
Taylor nodded miserably. “In their eyes, I’m like a vulture, hovering around, waiting for a story.”
“Anyway,” Marty continued, quickly continued so Taylor couldn’t dwell on that fact. “Mac and Lindsay are working; Danny’s with his brother and parents at the hospital; Stella’s with her boyfriend; and Hawkes got roped into doing something for his Sid. Which leaves me with a turkey in the oven and no one to eat it.”
Taylor blinked. “Huh?”
“I’m cooking dinner, for both of us,” he looked her over. “Because it is blatantly obvious to anyone that looks at you that you’ve been nibbling at that disgusting hospital food. Ill people don’t like it so lord knows why you have to stomach it.”
Taylor bit her lip. “Will you make Irish Mash?”
Marty smiled. “I’m not letting you anywhere near the kitchen, so I guess I had better.” It was a little known fact that Taylor couldn’t cook. Her mother was a fabulous cook, but it had been her brother who had inherited that gene. No, Taylor was the kind of person who could destroy anything. Practically the only ‘cooking’ she could manage was Easy Mac. And that was pushing it.
Taylor took one last look at Flack and left.
Marty shrugged. “Taking you home.”
Taylor shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, not until visiting hours, when you’ll hide in the nurse’s station.”
Taylor’s mouth dropped open. “How do you know about that?”
Marty sighed. “The whole lab knows, Taylor. Mac calls daily to see how Flack is doing, and when the nurses told him you had practically moved in, he started checking up on you too.”
“Really?” asked Taylor in disbelief.
Marty nodded. “We also all know how Flack’s parents won’t let you visit. Mac has tried to get them to change their minds, but they won’t listen to him.”
Taylor nodded miserably. “In their eyes, I’m like a vulture, hovering around, waiting for a story.”
“Anyway,” Marty continued, quickly continued so Taylor couldn’t dwell on that fact. “Mac and Lindsay are working; Danny’s with his brother and parents at the hospital; Stella’s with her boyfriend; and Hawkes got roped into doing something for his Sid. Which leaves me with a turkey in the oven and no one to eat it.”
Taylor blinked. “Huh?”
“I’m cooking dinner, for both of us,” he looked her over. “Because it is blatantly obvious to anyone that looks at you that you’ve been nibbling at that disgusting hospital food. Ill people don’t like it so lord knows why you have to stomach it.”
Taylor bit her lip. “Will you make Irish Mash?”
Marty smiled. “I’m not letting you anywhere near the kitchen, so I guess I had better.” It was a little known fact that Taylor couldn’t cook. Her mother was a fabulous cook, but it had been her brother who had inherited that gene. No, Taylor was the kind of person who could destroy anything. Practically the only ‘cooking’ she could manage was Easy Mac. And that was pushing it.
Taylor took one last look at Flack and left.
* * *
Taylor awoke with a start. It was nearly nine, nearly time for the extended visiting hours. She rubbed her eyes and glanced sadly at the sleeping detective. According to the doctors, they were hoping for a Christmas miracle with him: if he didn’t wake up soon, it was unlikely he would. Up until now, they had been reassuring her that the coma was the body’s best way of healing, much like they had with Louie, and indeed, the internal injuries were much better. That being said, even if he were to wake up now, he would still be off work for at least a fortnight, and that was if he was lucky. The upside was, he would be able to be discharged by the New Year.
Taylor leant over and gave him a kiss on the forehead before gathering up her things and leaving. Truth be told, she had no interest in Christmas anyway, but Marty was cooking again, and she had had to promise him she would be there. She couldn’t hide out in the nurses’ station all day, either.
Taylor leant over and gave him a kiss on the forehead before gathering up her things and leaving. Truth be told, she had no interest in Christmas anyway, but Marty was cooking again, and she had had to promise him she would be there. She couldn’t hide out in the nurses’ station all day, either.
* * *
Don shifted in discomfort, trying to roll over onto his left side, into a more comfortable position, but as he did, he was met by several things. The first was an excruciating burning sensation in his side, which, when he followed with a moan of pain, was met with a squeal of delight. And this of course just infuriated his already pounding head.
As he opened his eyes to bright lights – and more pain – he knew instantly that he was in a hospital. His mother’s face looming over him just confirmed that. But when he spotted the garish Christmas decorations, he knew something bad had happened. The thing was, he couldn’t remember any of it. The last thing he could remember, was talking to Lindsay about block parties. So how had block parties escalated into a hospital bed?
By the evening, his father had filled him in, and extra details had been added, when everyone else came to visit. Everyone, that was, except Taylor. According to his father, she hadn’t been to see him since they had arrived (some eight weeks ago!). Flack’s eyes narrowed – he expected more from her. Evidently not.
As he opened his eyes to bright lights – and more pain – he knew instantly that he was in a hospital. His mother’s face looming over him just confirmed that. But when he spotted the garish Christmas decorations, he knew something bad had happened. The thing was, he couldn’t remember any of it. The last thing he could remember, was talking to Lindsay about block parties. So how had block parties escalated into a hospital bed?
By the evening, his father had filled him in, and extra details had been added, when everyone else came to visit. Everyone, that was, except Taylor. According to his father, she hadn’t been to see him since they had arrived (some eight weeks ago!). Flack’s eyes narrowed – he expected more from her. Evidently not.
* * *
Taylor had just sat down with Marty to open their Christmas presents. She had only gotten so far as opening his – a new cell phone (hers had never been seen again after the bomb) when the apartment’s phone started ringing.
“It’s probably your mother, again,” Marty smirked. Her mother had been calling daily to try to reach Taylor, and most of the time got only the machine. Something which annoyed her incredibly. Eventually taking pity on the woman, Marty had been the one talking to her, instead of the machine, answering the phone in Taylor’s place.
The machine beeped and the two of them sat back to listen to the message, expecting another rant. Except it wasn’t Taylor’s mother. It was Danny.
“Hey Drew, Marty, it’s Danny. I’m at the hospital… Trinity, with Flack. Good news – he’s awake. You should probably come over. He wants to play monopoly – someone left him it, and I can’t stand the game. See you soon, and Merry Christmas!”
Taylor blinked at the machine before looking at Marty. He nodded. “Let me turn the oven off and we’ll go.”
A short time later, due to a surprisingly low amount of traffic on the roads, the two were walking down the corridor to Flack’s room, where everyone was gathered, bar his siblings. Marty entered first.
“Flack, my man, about time you woke up.” Marty looked him up and down. “Perhaps you should go back to sleep though, because you certainly didn’t get enough beauty sleep.”
Flack grinned. “Glad to know you missed me, Pino. I bet you’ve been taking advantage of me not being on the court.”
“Flack, I can’t wait until you’re upright, because I am going to wipe the floor with you,” Marty corrected him, grinning good-naturedly.
“Whatever,” Flack scoffed. “I could play from this bed and still whup your ass. Tell him, Danny.”
“It doesn’t matter, because I could beat both you ladies, with my hands tied behind my back,” Danny chimed in.
Lindsay laughed. “That’s only because your fat head would block all the shots,” she snorted at him.
“Ouch, Montana,” Danny clutched at his chest. “That hurts me, right here!”
“Get over yourself, Messer,” she told him rolling her eyes, although a grin was plastered on her face.
Taylor observed the room from the doorway, yet to be noticed, and took a hesitant step in. The room fell silent as eyes turned to her. “Hi, Don,” she said softly.
She was met with cold, blue eyes, almost glaring at her. “Taylor,” he said curtly.
Her smile turned into a strained one. Clearly his father had said something.
As luck would have it, his father walked over to her. “What did I tell you?”
“I’m not going to stay,” she told him, fighting to keep control of her voice. “I just wanted to see for myself that your son was alright. Merry Christmas, everyone.” She turned quickly and left, before anyone could see the tears in her eyes. Tears of happiness and pain. At the end of the day, she was just relieved he was alive, even if she wasn’t enjoying the feeling with everyone else.
“It’s probably your mother, again,” Marty smirked. Her mother had been calling daily to try to reach Taylor, and most of the time got only the machine. Something which annoyed her incredibly. Eventually taking pity on the woman, Marty had been the one talking to her, instead of the machine, answering the phone in Taylor’s place.
The machine beeped and the two of them sat back to listen to the message, expecting another rant. Except it wasn’t Taylor’s mother. It was Danny.
“Hey Drew, Marty, it’s Danny. I’m at the hospital… Trinity, with Flack. Good news – he’s awake. You should probably come over. He wants to play monopoly – someone left him it, and I can’t stand the game. See you soon, and Merry Christmas!”
Taylor blinked at the machine before looking at Marty. He nodded. “Let me turn the oven off and we’ll go.”
A short time later, due to a surprisingly low amount of traffic on the roads, the two were walking down the corridor to Flack’s room, where everyone was gathered, bar his siblings. Marty entered first.
“Flack, my man, about time you woke up.” Marty looked him up and down. “Perhaps you should go back to sleep though, because you certainly didn’t get enough beauty sleep.”
Flack grinned. “Glad to know you missed me, Pino. I bet you’ve been taking advantage of me not being on the court.”
“Flack, I can’t wait until you’re upright, because I am going to wipe the floor with you,” Marty corrected him, grinning good-naturedly.
“Whatever,” Flack scoffed. “I could play from this bed and still whup your ass. Tell him, Danny.”
“It doesn’t matter, because I could beat both you ladies, with my hands tied behind my back,” Danny chimed in.
Lindsay laughed. “That’s only because your fat head would block all the shots,” she snorted at him.
“Ouch, Montana,” Danny clutched at his chest. “That hurts me, right here!”
“Get over yourself, Messer,” she told him rolling her eyes, although a grin was plastered on her face.
Taylor observed the room from the doorway, yet to be noticed, and took a hesitant step in. The room fell silent as eyes turned to her. “Hi, Don,” she said softly.
She was met with cold, blue eyes, almost glaring at her. “Taylor,” he said curtly.
Her smile turned into a strained one. Clearly his father had said something.
As luck would have it, his father walked over to her. “What did I tell you?”
“I’m not going to stay,” she told him, fighting to keep control of her voice. “I just wanted to see for myself that your son was alright. Merry Christmas, everyone.” She turned quickly and left, before anyone could see the tears in her eyes. Tears of happiness and pain. At the end of the day, she was just relieved he was alive, even if she wasn’t enjoying the feeling with everyone else.
Originally posted 27/07/2006