Chapter 69

A rush.  A panic.  One that I knew would haunt me for years to come.  Because I knew... this man didn't deserve what was just handed to him.  What he was now struggling with.  What would never stop my eyes from playing over that terrible sight; what I knew wouldn't ever leave Francis too.

My heart split in half and seemed to have fell to the floor as I watched his running body fall with it.  It was a thud, a body hitting the floor that made my stomach turn and it made me audibly gasp, as if I was the one that was just shot.   Because through the air of the gunshots came his reality, crushing without mercy. 

Francis always somehow seemed invincible in my eyes.  Like nothing could stop him. It was shattering to watch this now.  What was worse though than his hard collapse to the floor was his emotional groans - and words that tore at me even more. Oh how I wish I could have gave him what he wanted too when he demanded it with his howls that felt nearly as powerful as a gun.

The moment he went down, and the moment the man who shot him fell dead to the floor as a victim to Luke's gun, there was nothing in this room that existed besides the three of us.  Of Luke and I... and our focus locked hard on Francis.  I never gave the now dead man that shot Francis a second glance.  I couldn't look away from Luke's brother, and after Luke lowered his gun and saw him, neither could he. 

Our frozen state and stare lasted a second.  Shortly.  But it was enough to stay engraved deeply.  Of watching Francis's knees buckle from where he was trying to run.  His legs could only offer one solid shake of resistance before he crashed to the floor, sprawled out on his side then rolling slowly to his stomach.  His forehead pressed into the floor, body tense and blood pulsing through the back of his shirt too fast.  He released the affect the bullet had on him.

The most heart breaking, mind stopping scream I have ever heard.  As if it wasn't enough to watch him fall, but to hear him too....  My ears became witnesses to that brutal scream Francis let out.  A scream with so much pain and feeling; it shocked me in a way - because it was just so full of torment and agony that nobody would ever know of if you weren't him.  Agony... because it was a struggle just for him to choke it out. When he did, it was filled with so much hurt and resistance though.  You could hear it in his voice.  That new brand of pain that was all his.  And just as his scream seemed to have put Luke and I to a stop, we couldn't let it.  We needed to help him; and I owed everything to him now.

"Francis!" Luke hissed with his own agony filtering through his urgent words.  Luke was in front of me as our feet seemed to have acted on instinct.  We rushed over to his withering and panting body under the shadows of the new night; yet everything was very visible and clear to us.  We saw very clearly how much blood was releasing from him now, soaking into the back of his shirt.  That blood soaking down his lower back, staining his shirt and even more so, his begging voice seemed to have echoed such a pain.

"Ah, ah no!" he screamed through the pain with anger and need - and through the cloth in his mouth.  Somehow, I could hear him clearly with it tied around his head and mouth.  It made him sound in an even worse condition.  "No!  No I can't die," he belted out in a hard pant, that anger breaking into desperation as he breathed unevenly and heavily into the floor.  His forehead against the wood, he turned his cheek until it rested on the floor with the cloth in his mouth - and just that turn made him whimper.  I saw his eyes searching with no destination now, his body shaking hard, and his eyes spilling tears over. I could barely stand it to be honest.  But I needed to.  Don't think, just act.

I dropped to my knees at his side and the moment I did, I was working to get that cloth untied from his head and mouth.  And though he was shaky and I was still slightly doing that same, I managed to get it lose and pull it away.  It hurt me more... to see his tired lips now gasping more and more desperately, and to hear it was painful.  But I didn't stop.  His arms were trapped under his body, tied together and now bound under his body.  I was careful to move him slightly to be able to drag his arms out from his body but with Luke kneeling on his other side at this point, he helped me get his arms lose.  The moment I did, I picked at the tightly bound rope and just as I was losing my patience, I got it off him. 

His arms free and on the floor with the rest of his tense body, his hands free made my heart jump again as I watched his movements.  His struggle... and even worse now was that he tried grasping at something, anything, on the floor with his hands.  And with nothing to hold onto through the pain, I  took my hand and held his.

I shook my head, staring down at where his cheek rested on the floor just in front of my kneeling legs.  Holding his hand, the second I did, I felt him grip back mine very hard and with a shaky but hard grasp.  "No!  No, you're not going to die," I said to him quickly, and with the fear of touching his fragile body, I let Luke take care of that as he clearly knew what he was doing.  So all I could do was start stroking his hair, trying to calm him down.  "You're okay," I said, glancing from his red face to his dominantly red back now.  My heart shoved itself up to my throat it felt like.  I swallowed and looked back down to him and I saw his eyes look up and find mine for a moment.  "You're okay, you're fine," I said reassuring him.  "You are okay.  You won't die," I said and just kept repeating.

Luke however left me to calm him down; his nod to me was support for me to keep going.  And though he was trying to stay calm, with the nod he gave me, it was with a tight jaw.  A tense body with the rest of him and panic in Luke's eyes.  He had the hard job... because he couldn't panic.  At least not yet with this part.

The moment Luke knelt on his other side, he instantly removed Francis's shirt, quickly but carefully.  And when he ripped the material apart slowly, and examined the wound, I looked between Luke and Francis's back. It was not at all a good sign to see his face pale deeply when he got a closer look at his brother's back.  He looked scared, and even more panicked after inspecting his back for a moment. Which was all blood and too much for someone trying to reassure him.

"Oh fuck!  I want my baby!  I want my baby girl....  I want my baby, I want my precious baby," he said, at first in a hysterical shout as tears were streaming down his face.  His last words were whispered and begging.  But I wiped away his tears as he began to try to sit up.  "I want my baby girl.  I want my baby girl," he said in a wheeze again, and just as he tried sitting up, I grabbed him, wrapped my arms around him, and pressed him back down softly.  I saw Luke... pale and scared at this point.  Now, he needed to get into action seeing how bad this was for him. 

"Albany," Luke said to me in a fast voice.  My eyes finding his, he looked obviously less than confident that my words were right - that Francis was okay. "Get a blanket," he told me in an order, one I answered to instantly. 

I got to my feet and, as disturbing as it was, I ran around Clare's bloody mess of a body and got to the couch, where I saw a blanket was laying among the debris. With it being among the dust and debris of the house, I didn't know if it being clean mattered or not (since I assumed this was for his wound).  Either way, I figured it didn't since Luke didn't object to it as ran back to them and fell back to my knees at Francis's side.

Luke on his other side, I noticed, was taking care of a few more things after assessing his back.  His eyes were a swift green fire looking over Francis.  He held his radio from his belt up to his mouth with one hand and  shouting an order violently into the radio.  "...Ambulance, Ramper!  Right now!  Do not involve any other cops!"

As he was barking those orders into the radio - and clearly at Ramper to get an ambulance here - his other hand was busy too on his brother's wrist and check his pulse as he spoke into the radio.  All the while, Francis was still begging to see his little girl. 

I took it upon myself to do what I could, knowing what Luke wanted with the blanket.  I grabbed the heavy material of the blanket and began to apply it to Francis's wound, trying to stop the bleeding as much as I could.  Spreading my fingers over the blanket and pressing down on his back, I took a deep breath as I felt Francis groan - and continue to plead. Almost as if he was only half present.

"Baby... Oh no, no, please... I want my baby girl," Francis said, whether softly or in a shout.  He just... kept saying it, over and over repeating it.  And as he did, with Luke checking his pulse, I took his other free hand that was shaking and grasped it in mine again.

Throughout all this... It was a hard sight to watch.  Luke, chest and side of his face bloody, looking weak, shocked still... now was forced to tend to his brother.  Who was releasing blood even more than Luke did. It was worse, a gun shot.  And it was making him emotionally unstable. There were tears still coming and he was shaking, pleading, and groaned harder.  He continued gasping and speaking, the strength in him being used for one thing: to demand he see Brooke.

"Take me to my baby girl."  Francis's eyes closed for a long moment - and opened wide, only to find my eyes or his brothers; he even tried moving or getting up as if to find his daughter but I pressed him down again and continued putting pressure on the wound.  "Luke, I want to see my little girl," he choked out through his tears as he kept trying to fight out of our hold.

"No, we need to get you to the hospital.  Okay?  And don't move; you need to stay as still as you can and straight"  Luke said to him softly.  Because Francis's kept looking back and forth between me and his brother, Luke came to my side so Francis wouldn't have to; he must have really meant what he said about not moving. Staring up at him next to me, I saw he was done with Ramper over the radio and helped me apply pressure with pursed lips and fast breathing like Francis.  He stared at Luke in what looked like awe, in love and a surreal gaze, a begging one at that.

His cheek still against the floor, he closed his eyes and I heard a whimper leave his lips.  "No.... No," he sighed out in a higher voice as I watched more tears shed.  He tried being strong but he was so set in getting to Brooke.... "No, please," his eyes opened, and they found mine and begged me. "Albany... oh sweet Albany," Francis gasped out in a wheezy cry which made me want to cry with him.  His hand squeezed in mine more.  "Please... please get me my princess.  I want my baby," he cried out, his eyes in mine, filled with love and hurt.  Tears streaming heavily now, he demanded it again.  "I want my fucking baby girl!"

"We're working on it," I nodded, hopefully to get him to finally calm down.  "You will see Brooke," I said in panic, just trying to calm this hysterical and nearly sobbing man down.  "You aren't going to die and you will be fine.  She is going to see her daddy again," I said, swallowing the sadness I felt in me and just continuing to focus on keeping pressure. 

"But... But it didn't leave me!  It's still..." he grunted louder and nearly screamed even more in pain.  Though I wasn't sure what exactly he meant, Luke did. Instantly, he responded.

"I know.  I know.  I can tell.  But that doesn't mean you will die.  Just because there was no exit wound doesn't mean you won't be okay," he nodded to him in confidence, obviously talking about the fact that he was shot... but the bullet didn't leave him. Looking up to Luke, seeing the beads of sweat now along his pale face, his bloodshot eyes... I knew not even he could trust his own words.

***

It was a long and hard night: the biggest understatement one can make at this point.  I felt this night would stretch on for days to come.  That realization came soon at seeing just how much sadness and guilt, anxiousness and uneasiness would last in me for a very long time.

We got Francis to the hospital.  He was rushed instantly to be taken care of, the bullet needing removal.  To tend to whatever internal injuries he is suffering and to make sure he will be okay.  But the second we left Francis - which took a while since we refused to obey the nurses - Luke offered up some information to the doctor, and to me, once we were forced out of the room.  The doctor was standing with us in the hall, and very much looking concerned over Luke's own bloody self.  He agreed to be treated with those cuts, but not for long.  Of course, Luke agreed to do so after we spoke to this doctor about Francis.

His hair a soft and creamy blond, his eyes were a nice blue, one full of concern. His build bulky but controlled, I could read his interest in us through his eyes.  He wanted to get to work with the other doctors working on Francis at the moment.  But first, Luke asked to talk to him.  "You wanted to speak with me on what you claim you already did to help your brother in this condition?" he asked in a low voice.

Luke gave a nod, holding a cloth sheet the hospital gave him for now around his cut chest. Sighing softly, Luke's eyes showed something they didn't when they were with Francis.  And that was of a worse sadness and a look of sickness over him.  "Yes," he said, trying to keep his voice even and I noticed he had a hard time focusing.  "I checked his pulse, saw his was talking clearly, breathing fine, and we held pressure to the wound.  However, we also assessed there was no exit wound."  Luke paused, and his next words sent a shutter over my whole body.  "I also took note to the bullet damaging his spine."

My eyes... they slowly fell away from Luke and to the too white floor of the hospital.  His spine.... No, no, no, no.  He was shot in the back, not head. He needed to be okay.  This couldn't happen - especially with us being so close!  Francis didn't deserve this... at all.  He wasn't the one that should have been shot; it should have been me.  Not someone who wasn't at fault.  Not someone who has a daughter that needs him.  Not someone that was only trying to help this whole time. 

I swallowed hard and felt my eyebrows slowly dip.  And this is just the tip of all the destruction you brought onto the people around you....  Luke was hurt and nearly died countless times, his life completely disrupted, and  Jan and Shannon were constantly worrying about their families.  And now Brooke... it would be your fault if that girl loses her daddy.  Dear fucking god, I felt even more sick.

I felt a soft movement, one that felt quite foreign after everything.  And that was of Luke's arm, coming to wrap comfortingly around my back.  His hand resting on my arm, he held me just softly against him.  In love, in comfort, and support as I felt his warmth and sweetness.  The things I didn't deserve but let keep my mind busy at his touch.  I couldn't think about myself and how shitty I am; that's selfish.  I needed to focus on the present.  

The doctor pursed his own lips and sighed after Luke mentioned his spine.  Trying not to make us too panicked or worried, he spoke softly to us.  "Alright... that is clearly not god.  But we are not done examining him and since I haven't even seen him yet, I can't say anything about the condition he is.  Whether deadly or not yet.  Of course, spinal cord injuries are serious and not good, we will do our best and keep you folks updated," he said and gave us a nod.  "I know you have been here a couple hours already, so its understandable if you want to go home after you get patched up.  But I will be able to get back to you in a few hours with details if you are willing to stay."

Luke sighed and looked down to me.  Though there hasn't been much talking, much communication between us this whole time, I felt a nice connection through his eyes that was a small relief as he searched my face.  "You don't want to leave do you?" he asked, already figuring the answer.

I shook my head and glanced to the doctor.  "No.  Besides, your family will be here soon," I said back to him.  After all, we had to call up Jan and Shannon.  Luke told them the news as we were in the room with Francis.  We just weren't willing to leave his side this whole time.  "Plus, I doubt anybody will be coming after me here, let alone anytime soon," I said in a sigh, reminded of the bullshit with Reid and whoever else was after me.

So... after Luke got patched up, we actually ran into Jan on the way back towards the waiting room near where they were working on Francis.  And... you can't imagine the amount of guilt I felt at that moment.  Of walking down the hall with Luke patched up and then... seeing his mother rushing down the hall towards us and where Francis's room was.  Tears streaming down her face, the sight was... unreal.  Streaks ran down her cheeks and as she got closer, I could see how shook up she was.  Supporting a brown tee shirt and sweat pants, she was moving fast and I heard her soft cries as she came closer to us.  His lips quivering and hand covering her mouth as she got louder at seeing Luke, her tears continued.

"Oh god.  No.... No Luke," she said, her hair a mess as was the rest of her.  A few feet away as she came closer, I watched in hurt as Jan wrapped her arms up and around Luke, who bent down and quickly hugged his mother back.  Watching the sight... and seeing Jan's hands grasp Luke tightly and shakily, it forced me to bite my lip and look down, just for a moment.  Though I know I shouldn't have.  Look at what you did to this family....

Locks of hair hanging around her filed of vision, she tucked her head into Luke's chest and started to shake more... as I knew more tears were falling from the woman that deserved more happiness than most people I knew.  She didn't deserve this... to have her son shot and to have her other stand before her now, cut up and hurt slightly.  Fuck.... I wrapped an arm around my stomach, my other covering my mouth and gasping lips as I shook.  The sight was torture.  He closed his eyes and held Jan close to him and a few tears slowly fell from his own closed eyes too.

"He's being worked on now," he whispered to her softly, chin coming to rest against the side of her head.  "He... he kept demanding to see Brooke.  I'm guessing that wasn't the best idea for Brooke," Luke said and as he spoke, Jan moved back slightly and nodded. 

"Yeah... well, Shannon and Brooke are in the lobby.  They are upset," she said with a broken voice and just after she spoke, she looked over to me and she seemed to swallow.  She bit her lip and tried holding back her cries as she took a step closer to me and hugged me to her tightly.  And it really hurt my heart.  Not like before because she was so motherly.  But because I didn't deserve her soft hug. 

"Oh honey, are you okay?" she asked me as I strangely and sweetly felt her softly kiss my forehead before she took a step back and rubbed my arms slightly, still very upset as she searched my eyes.

I nodded and sighed carefully, keeping my voice level.  "Yeah... yeah, I'm okay," I nodded to her.

"Good," she nodded, slightly a little more relieved.  Then she looked back to Luke, tears coming once more and eyes begging.  "Can I see him? Please?" she asked, looking beyond him and down towards where Francis's room was with the doctors working on him.  After they were done with him, he would get settled in a room and a bed; I was anxious for that right now for Francis.

Luke sighed and pulled his mom into a hug again.  "Not yet, ma.  They are working on him.  But you can within the next few hours, I promise," he said gently to her and I watched her nod, not looking any happier as she sniffed, her eyes still lost down the hall and where she wanted to go so badly.  

"I can't lose him," she said, shaking and her lips quivered more.  "I can't lose any of you," she said in a hard thick voice.

Luke took a very deep breath, looking down to his mom.  "Does dad know?"

She wiped a tear away, though pointless, as more came.  She groaned and shook her head. "No....  I couldn't reach him.  I will be able to later maybe but I know he is out at a meeting right now.  It's a few hours earlier where he is," she said and she started to cry even more, knowing her husbanded needed to get this news as soon as possible.

We talked for a few more moments.  And Jan... was still just as broken.  It was hard to just stand there and not ask her to blame me for everything.  I wanted to tell her all this was my fault and that I was so sorry.  But I knew I couldn't do that yet.  She was just trying to process her son getting shot.  If I told her it was my fault, I would need to explain everything to her.  Jan knew nothing about Clare for example.  But I would have to wait to tell her all this.  She could only take so much for now.  So when she asked about Clare, Luke had to lie and say that we still haven't seen her.

Of course, while this was happening, we explained most of what happened today anyway, excluding my now dead mother.  As we sat in the waiting room up by where they were working on Francis, we told Jan about how he was shot because men were there to take me away.  And even then, she was broken up over that.  While that was happening, Luke got updates from Ramper; he was keeping the house blocked off with police tape and intercepting reports of the shootings being heard. We didn't want anyone at the house to see what happened in case it would get back to the sheriff.  Because after we are finished here tonight we were turning all evidence over to the police - and the police we knew weren't involved.  Though Clare was dead, evidence would justify why and it would bust the sheriff too.  We needed him arrested just to be safe and our own justice.

For now though, Francis was our focus.  It consumed my thoughts for hours to come.  And with Jan so on edge, trying multiple times to actually go see him and be denied, she was obviously a mess.  She was finally able to contact Mike though and told him the news.  And that alone seemed to have shook me to my core once again.  Over and over... spurts of tears would want to fall.  But I managed to hold them back.  It was very hard a number of times through all this - but especially when we found out Mike couldn't catch a flight any sooner than in two days at last minute based on it being Spring Break for many schools around the country (ours was later).  What was just as worse was that Shannon and Brooke were still downstairs and waiting because Brooke didn't want to leave without seeing her daddy I found out when Jan checked on them.

Luke though... he didn't shed another tear during our time waiting there.  However... let me tell you. As I sat next to him and held his hand, I knew he was so upset and so ready to crack.  Either with tears of rage; his body was shaking and I heard his breath catch too many times.  I honestly wasn't sure how he was still holding my hand in his with his pain - and knowing it was my fault; I did this to Francis.  I don't know how either of them didn't blame me yet.  Luke's eyes though held a seriousness though that shook me to my core.  One that was so lost and sad, and if I had to guess, it wasn't just about what happened with Francis.  Seeing that dead gaze, I recalled the words that were exchanged between him and Clare before she died.  I still had no clue what that was about....

We were there, waiting, for many hours.  To the point where we let Jan lay down on the couch and relax, even if she couldn't fall asleep.  And with me shaking still like crazy, I didn't allow myself to relax.  I couldn't until I knew what the doctor would say about him.  Of course, I did get some comfort, even if little and even if I didn't deserve it.  Sitting next to Luke in a chair, though he didn't meet my eyes, his hand in mine finally left and wrapped around my shoulders.  His warm strong grasp so inviting... it allowed me to at least sit back in the chair more.  And as I did, I felt Luke lean his side closer to mine; he eventually came to rest his head against my shoulder in the quiet air.  We wouldn't fall asleep, but it was nice to have this while we waited in hell it seemed like.  Just as he sighed, I rested my head on top of his against my shoulder.  It seemed like soon after, the doctor we spoke to returned.

"News doctor?" Jan said immediately the second she heard someone walk in and sat up straight from where she was resting, her eyes heavy that whole time.  Now, they were red and wide open as we all stared up to the doctor that stood before where we were. He offered a sympathetic look to Jan.

"Yes um...." he shook his head and took a deep breath, looking between all of us.  "I'll just get to the point.  His spine was affected.  The bullet hit him in an area where it damaged his nerves quite a bit along with other components of his spinal cord.  To make it clear though for now, what I can say from trying to get the bullet out, is that..." he paused for a long moment and in distress from his tense expression.  "He won't die.  He will live," he said, nodding to us that news.  And though that was a relief and I needed to remember that, it was hard with his next words he delivered to us. "However, the damage done to his spine could be permanent.  He could very easily be paralyzed from the waist down but we can't say for sure yet.  I need to tell you though he probably will be based on what we found; his reaction to our treatments count though.  But... keep in mind, Francis will live," he said quietly and nodded to us.  Meeting all of our eyes with a sadness he would never know.  And before I could even process the doctors words, before I could even... bare the thought of Francis paralyzed, Jan sure was ready to speak back up to the doctor, shoving aside her shock.

Jan stood up from the little couch and faced the doctor.  Luke and I staring up at her, I felt a ping in my heart.  Because... because Francis was most likely paralyzed.  I paralyzed Francis....  That was what happened.  And it was because of me.  At least he is alive, at least he is alive....  I tried telling myself that through this whole terrible process and it just wouldn't work.  I was so happy he would live but it was still my fault.  I still did this to him and now, he was probably paralyzed.  It cracked my being - and my lips when I felt a slow and nearly silent gasp leave my mouth.

"Did you remove the bullet yet?  Can I please see him now?" She begged with her eyes to her core that last question, resting her hand on the doctors arm as she tried to sway his words. "Please let me see my boy," she said, voice cracking and more tears began to form around her sweet and already tinted red eyes.  Oh god... how I just wanted to hold her to me, like the mother I never had and comfort her. 

He sighed at looked to us before glancing back to Jan.  His eyes grew more emotional but he kept his professionalism forward and obvious.  He gave us a nod.  "Yes.  It was a challenge to remove it, which will most likely influence his recovery.  Like I said, it will all depend on how he is when he wakes.  We can probably find out for sure within a few days whether he will be paralyzed or not.  For now, he is resting.  He needs it and is drugged intensively for what we had to do to get that bullet out of him.  I would highly recommend you all head home though; you won't be able to talk to him or communicate in any such fashion until, at the very least, tomorrow.  I will allow you all to stay though if you wish - just not in here.  There is a bed open next to his that we can manage to let you use.  But like I said, I would suggest going home.  From what I understand, you have a daughter and granddaughter downstairs that are in pain along with you; rest is needed.  From the looks of it, you both as well," he said to Luke and I.

His words... seemed to fast to try to contain.  All I knew was that we could stay and that's what I intended to do, no matter where we sleep.  Unfortunately for poor Jan, she had Shannon and Brooke here and I knew with my being, if anyone could reassure Francis's little girl, it was Jan.  They needed to go home and rest.

"Mom," Luke broke in, leaning forward from his seat and taking his mother's hand.  She looked down into his caressing and painful eyes.  "Mom, you should go home.  Go home with Shannon and Brooke and just rest, take everything in....  I mean, it's already nearly two in the morning.  You are exhausted and Brooke is probably sleeping with Shannon in a chair.  Do yourself some good."

She shook her head and sighed in exhaust.  "No, I need to stay with my baby--" she said, taking a deep breath after I heard her voice break.  Luke was very persistant with it though; it was the most I heard him talk nearly all night it felt like.  After all, it was enough to worry about Francis and everything else.  He knew his mother would be upset and anxious more staying here.

"No, you don't.  Me and Albany will stay here.  Okay?  We will to watch over him.  We will.  He won't wake until tomorrow, like he said," Luke said, nodding to the doctor watching the exchange of words.  "And if anything else happens, we will call you right away.  He wont be up until tomorrow.  You are needed more by Brooke than by Francis at the moment."  His argument ended on that ultimate note, one too pursusave.  After all, Jan put everyone before herself.  Meaning Brooke.

She bit her lip, eyes still locked on Luke.  Pursing her lips in a pain holding expression, she finally looked up to the doctor.  Then back down to us as she looked to the floor, nodding as if trying to tell herself that was right.  She needed to go home for her well being and for Brooke's.  "Okay," she answered in his favor.  "I will go home.  But I want to see him first," she said, looking up to the doctor. Jan finally got the only good thing she could receive tonight.  And that was to see her son, laying unconscious before she and her daughter with Brooke headed home.

***

It took so long.

To let everything settle.  To try to even tackle what had happened to us.  To face that Francis was shot and could be paralyzed.  To let it hit me that all this was because of me.  It all took forever for me to even face but Luke was in a different place than me.  He was too busy and too worried, too shook up for everything.  And it started with everything he was dealing with.

After Jan left finally, parting from her son with a soft kiss and more tears, she headed home.  With Shannon and a Brooke I wouldn't know how to face.  How to look into her innocent eyes and know that it was because of me she might not be able to do the things with her dad that she use to.  Just thinking about her made me cringe, knowing how hurt she was with knowing her daddy was shot.  She wanted to see dad so much but Jan thought against it; he wasn't conscious and it would give Brooke the wrong impression and hurt her more.  Especially with Francis looking quite pale and not in the best shape since he was beat up before he was shot.  Just that made Jan more on edge when she saw him.  I was with her.  I felt sick to my fucking stomach.  So sick, I could barely stand it as I stared down at him.  He looked worse than before.  Look at what you did to an amazing man....

It all took so much out of me.  To where tears weren't even a threat for the most part.  I just absorbed the hard impact every painful moment had on me.  Of Jan's reaction to seeing Francis, of me seeing him, of knowing Brooke was suffering and everyone else, of Luke too....  Of watching Luke stare down at his brother for the longest time with a blank face, eyes glazed and tired, red from sadness and exhaust.  It was painful to see what happened even after his family left.  Because all we wanted to do was rest.  And we couldn't yet.

Luke talked to Ramper about the house one more time.  Told him to continue blocking off the house and to make it unknown what happened until we were ready since we wouldn't be able to do it tonight.  And when we were ready, tomorrow most likely, we would arrest the sheriff and show our evidence.  He told Ramper to continue with that and told him to get some rest when he was done.  After all, it was around two or three and we hadn't slept in a long time it felt like. 

After all that was settled and we managed to get some clothes that weren't so dirty, sweaty, bloody, we decided to finally do something that just seemed impossible after such a day as this one: lay down.  It took a while... mainly to tear ourselves away from Francis's bedside.  We held his hand and I knew if I really thought about it, I would have broke down then and there.  But I didn't yet and couldn't.  I couldn't face that pain yet.  I needed to do that on my own time.  I needed to save that for when I could let it out without Luke around.  I wouldn't dare start sobbing only to have him comfort me - I wouldn't do that around him right now at all.  I couldn't at this point.  That would be so selfish.  Luke was hurting just as much as I was with this being his brother.  If anybody had a right to cry and to be held, it was Luke.  For his brother and everything, everything, that happened before that.

Of course, that didn't exactly happen.  He was very quiet with me this whole time to begin with and even still when we both were forced to lay down in the other hospital bed in the room to sleep thanks to the nurses pestering us to get out of there way when they kept tending to him.  We were just lucky to be here.... I was thankful this bed didn't need to be used. 

Sliding into the bed on the right side, the lights now very dim and the air full of sorrow, I sighed deeply.  The feel of the bed under my rough hands at this point felt so soft and so welcoming.  Something that felt so strange to me... everything did.  This whole time, everything was very vague.  As if all distorted because that's what I could allow at the time.  Now... now the details were coming back and not just what happened.  The soft feel of the bed, the darkness that was calling to my sleep, and the even more noticeable thing in the room: the pure tension that was between Luke and I - the tension I didn't bother to really recognize until that very moment. 

Moving my legs up to the bed and stretching out over the slightly elevated bed, resting on my side towards where Luke was getting in, I bite my soft lip and watched him carefully.  Delicately and slowly, savoring the sight of him.  That's one thing I could be thankful for because Francis being alive obviously: that Luke was here.  He wasn't dead and it was a gift I could never repay in any way. I couldn't imagine a world without him or his brother.  I couldn't.  As I watched him, I knew I wouldn't be able to handle him dying at all.  Not at all because he was the one thing left after today that I could look at as something good and pure in my life.  Even if that meant I wasn't.  Even if I felt like total shit and unworthy.  And even if I knew he was hiding something from me....

Watching him with scanning eyes, I took in his messy hair, his rough expression and distant eyes, the wrinkles along his forehead even deeper it appeared.  His body looked tired, so exhausted and it was a relief for me to see him climb into the bed with me, laying on his back and exhaling a deep sigh, closing his eyes as he did from the side he was laying on.  He didn't offer me a look yet with his eyes closed.  But, as I laid there watching him from my side, I watched him slide a hand over the covers through the darkened room and to find my arm and hold my hand in his.  His hand, cold and sweaty at once, and holding mine tightly. 

I wasn't sure what to say to him.  But the first thing that came to me was said.  "I don't want you to try to be strong with this," I whispered to him.  "You wont scare me if you let it out," I said to him, rubbing my thumb along his hand.

His eyes stayed closed.  But after I spoke, they opened and stared up at the ceiling still, a troubled expression crossing him.  "I don't want to think about letting it out," he said in a groggy and tired voice.  "I just don't want to think."

Reaching my hand up in his and brushing his arm softly, I spoke in a quiet yet stern voice.  "Why?"

"Because it hurts so much.  So fucking much," he trembled.  And like before, I spoke without a thought.  Without anything.  Luke, slowly turning and looking to me as he rested on his side, his eyes seemed to burn my skin.  I searched his eyes and somehow, we ended up closer together. Looking into his broken eyes, I sighed and saw there was something he was hiding, and already at the surface in his mind. 

"Luke..."

Before he let me say anything, I felt his gaze penetrate mine.  And though he didn't say much to me before, he almost looked desperate to speak now.  He leaned slightly closer and led my hand up to him and around him.  My heart jumping, my hand came to rest on his back and it felt so nice... to hold him slightly.  What felt better was when he ended up cupping my cheek.  "Albany," he sighed and I watched he looked quite conflicted.  So... all he did was pet my skin and stare at me, looking quite upset.  "I know you are dealing with too much for me to break down now.  And... to be honest, right now, I don't think I need to.  I really don't.  Because I am so... I'm so thankful.  That you are alive, my brother is alive, and that is what counts.  I can't think about the other stuff.  I'm just... just happy you are both here.  And it's because you are so strong and so fucking wonderful," he whispered.  I believed everything he said was him telling the truth.  But there was more that had to be said.

I smiled softly to him, happy to hear him actually not doing to bad.  "Well... I just want you to know that you can.  You can and I... I will always be here."

He swallowed hard and nodded gently to me.  I could only hope he would always be here for me.  "Thank you," he whispered and though he was okay, he was still... very tense.  I could feel it in his body, his words, as if this made him slightly uncomfortable. 

"Luke," I groaned.  I felt his hurt... and saw it in his eyes. "Tell me what you aren't telling me.  It's about what you and Clare were talking about, isn't it?" I asked him carefully, not knowing if I was on dangerous grounds or not. 

"It's not important, it really isn't," he said and though he said he was fine, that crack came in his voice.

Sweet and begging emerald eyes searching mine, cautiously and still looking quite foreign to me.... Christ, I couldn't take him avoiding it for an answer.  I wanted to know.  To maybe help him through what was bothering him.  "Luke, I wont judge you, I wont be mad, I wont do anything besides be at your side.  Just-just please tell me," I said to him, biting my lip.  I needed to reveal this, I needed to help him.  If I only knew....

"I... I can't tell you," he let out in a light and hurting voice.  It only made me need to know more. 

I moved my hand that was on his back up to his side, and cupped his cheek as he was cupping mine.  "Yes you can," I said softly.  "You know I love you.  You know how much you mean to me; I just want to help you."

"You can't," he swallowed hard.  "I mean, I can't even understand... how to begin to think about it.  I feel so... I don't know.  Angry, and sad, and numb... I don't know how I should feel."  His eyes closed and it was like he was saying all this to himself.

I had no idea, none at all, what he was talking about.  What didn't he know how to feel about?  It had to be something so huge.  "Luke, tell me.  Please."

"I don't want you to hurt anymore," he said as he opened his eyes and looked in mine.  With sorrow.  "You are so hurt and this will make it worse.  For no reason too.  There is nothing you can do and all this would do would hurt you.  And I hate seeing you hurt."

If he knew of the guilt, the extent of it in me, he probably wouldn't have told me.  But that wasn't his fault; there was too much happening to actual set aside thinking time and realize how guilty this would make me.  But he at least new it would somewhat.  I convinced him not to consider guilt though.  "If you hate seeing me hurt... well I hurt when you hurt.  And I want to help you.  Just... just cut the bullshit and tell me what is wrong," I said in a soft and quite, caressing voice.

He did.  I was right to.  Because this was huge.  He stared into my eyes, with so much power, and told me.  "Clare was pregnant."