continuing from here
drdone passing the gauntlet to @preludeinz!
Gordon’s so, so tired. He’s leaning against the wall outside the apartment, trying to talk himself into walking into it. Penny’s on the other side of the door, but so is Grandma, and he needs to pull himself together before he can go inside. He has to, for Grandma’s sake, but also for his own.
Grandma’s strong. She’s the strongest woman he’s ever known, and Gordon knows without a doubt that if he went in there falling apart, she’d try to hold him up. She shouldn’t have to. He can’t put that on her. She’s sick, and she’s in pain, and Gordon needs to be able to speak clearly and calmly. He needs to be able to tell her what’s happened without breaking down. He won’t hide it from her, he won’t lie to her. But she doesn’t need to be worried about him.
He takes a deep breath and pushes off the wall. He needs to just do this, because the longer he waits, the worse it’ll get.
Penny’s with Grandma in her room, a spread of cards between them. Neither of them are paying attention to the game anymore; they’re both staring at him. Penny’s face is apprehensive and cautious, and Grandma’s gaze is sharp, seeing more than he wants her to, like always. Gordon averts his own eyes.
“Gordon?” Penny says, and he lifts his eyes to meet hers. “You didn’t say much over the phone.”
Yeah, he hadn’t. He’d let them know Alan was in a car accident and stable, and that he was heading back to the apartment. He shakes his head.
“Alan’s okay,” he says. “Or, well, he will be. Probably. It was close, but he’s stable. John’s still with him.”
“What happened?” Grandma asks, and her tone indicates she’s not going to be deterred.
Gordon takes a breath. He can do this. He can hold it together, long enough to get through this, and make sure Grandma’s okay and not just pretending to be. He can.
“Alan’s been street racing,” he says, and doesn’t look at Grandma. He doesn’t want to see her face, doesn’t want to see the pain or anger Alan’s caused. “I don’t know why or for how long – Scott thinks there’s something else at play here. I don’t know. But there was an accident, someone took a corner too fast or something, and he went off-road, and took a bunch of cars with him, Alan included.”
Penny inhales sharply, and he can’t look at her anymore, either, and just looks down at the cards before continuing. Calm, clear, just a run down of his injuries. You can handle this, Gordon.
“He had to have surgery to take care of some internal bleeding. His shoulder’s dislocated, he’s got a few broken ribs, and some damage to his ribs. He’s probably got whiplash. He has a concussion, but he had a helmet on, and it -.”
His voice breaks, and damnit, he’s already done this. He’s already been through the ‘what-ifs’ and he’s already had to take a few moments outside the hospital to calm himself down, and he doesn’t need to do this again, right now, in front of Grandma and Penny. He’s a paramedic, damnit, he sees these things all the time. He can handle it.
He takes a steadying breath. “Yeah. He had a helmet on.”
“Thank God,” Grandma says, and Gordon almost falls apart right there. Her voice is steady, but there’s a definite note of worry in it. He hates this. He hates that this has happened.
“You said John’s at the hospital with him,” Penny says, her tone soothing. Gordon wants to bask in it, but he just nods, still staring at the cards. They’re starting to get blurry, and Gordon’s so frustrated with himself he’s going to scream.
“Yeah,” he says. “Scott had to go back to the station, he has to write up a report for the scene and all that. And Virgil -.”
Gordon has to stop, because as far as he’s heard, no one’s heard from Virgil. John had said he’d left to find Alan earlier, but that was hours ago, and given what’s happened to Alan, this radio silence from Virgil can’t be good. Gordon can’t push back the thought that something’s happened to Virgil, too.
He doesn’t want to worry Grandma further, but no doubt she already knows something’s up, as the pause goes on further, so he breathes through the worry. He’s not going to lie to her.
“I don’t know where Virgil is,” Gordon admits. “He’s not answering his phone.”
“Oh,” Penny says, almost like she hadn’t meant to. Gordon closes his eyes, because he’s too close to the edge. He’s way too close.
“Gordon,” Grandma says softly, and Gordon flinches.
He hears someone move, and seconds later, he’s being pulled into a hug. It’s Penny, he can tell, would know the scent of her shampoo anywhere, know the way her body fits against his.
And he breaks.
Rent Day Blues 