So went Gwen's thoughts as they rushed through the lobby of the emergency room, running up to the desk where the nurse sat. She hardly noticed the antiseptic smell of the place, or the harsh white fluorescent lights running along the ceiling. She hardly thought about how much she hated hospitals, and her secret fear of going to them. People only went to hospitals because they were sick or hurt, or because they needed to go see someone who was themselves sick or hurt.
He wasn't even her father, and Gwen still felt shell-shocked, empty and disconnected. Almost as though she watched herself from some outside perspective. She had no idea how Aiden felt within. He'd hardly said anything since taking the call.
"Henry Manning," he said to the nurse, breathless, "I'm his son."
The nurse, an older woman with her grey-streaked hair tied back in a tight bun, knew how to do her job well. She addressed him calmly while she checked her computer.
"Yes, he arrived here about half an hour ago. I have him listed in emergency surgery."
Cold fingers squeezed themselves around Gwen's heart. All Aiden had been able to tell her was that there had been a car accident.
"Is... Is he going to live?" Aiden said.
The nurse smiled at him, sympathy in her voice. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know. He was listed in critical condition when he came in. If you go to the waiting room, a doctor will be out to speak with you as soon as they can. You're his son?" When Aiden nodded, she pulled a clipboard with an attached pen out from under her desk. "I'll need you to start filling out these forms."
"Are you sure it doesn't tell you anything else?" Aiden said, trying to lean over the desk so he could see the computer, too. Gwen eased him back gently, grabbing the clipboard for him and telling the nurse it would be completed. She led him through the white hallways, following the signs and arrows for the waiting room.
Thankfully, the rows of chairs within were mostly empty. A few crisp magazines waited in bins on the coffee tables scattered about the room. They didn't look read. Gwen understood why. You couldn't do something so casual as reading a magazine while waiting for the news from the OR, no matter how much you wanted to distract yourself.
And she wished badly she could distract herself right then. However, she needed to be there for Aiden, and she intended to be. She put herself in his place, trying to understand what he needed from her.
They must have sat there for half an hour, Aiden gripping her hand so hard she lost feeling in it, before he said anything.
"Why am I so upset? Isn't it strange that I'm so upset?"
"He's your father. It's okay to be upset," she replied.
"But I don't love him. At least... I didn't think I did," Aiden said.
"Are you sure?" Gwen said. From her experience, love could survive and grow in the strangest of places and situations. She could tell then that Aiden cared deeply for his father. If he hadn't, their long rivalry never would have existed.
And, Gwen knew, if that were true, then the same held for Henry.
"I don't know," he said finally.
It took two more hours for a doctor to finally come in. He was an older man with a horseshoe of salt-and-pepper hair surrounding his bald pate, a broad nose, and eyes tired and withdrawn from the long surgery.
"Aiden Manning?" he said.
Aiden and Gwen bolted to their feet. Blood surged past her ears.
"I'm Dr. Lessing. Your father suffered multiple fractures throughout his body. However, our concern is the internal bleeding..."
The bottom of Gwen's stomach felt like it just dropped through the floor.
"Can I see him?" Aiden said.
"We really need to talk about this..." Lessing said.
"We can talk after I see him. Can I see him?"
Recognizing the tone in Aiden's voice, the doctor relented. He led them to the recovery room, advising him to keep the visit short. Gwen started to follow Aiden into the room, but Lessing snagged her by the elbow. "Immediate family only, I'm afraid."
Aiden turned to argue her case, but she forestalled him. "It's okay. I'll be right outside when you're ready."
Deciding that she wasn't going to try and go in anyway, Lessing released her arm. She sat on one of two chairs beside the door and waited.
Perhaps ten minutes later a shrill alarm sounded. A team of scrub-clad doctors and nurses rushed into the recovery room, pushing along a cart loaded with medical equipment. Gwen stood, covering her mouth, unable to blink. She couldn't process what was happening.
Aiden came out moments later, probably kicked out by the doctors. Those few minutes inside changed him. He looked haggard and worn out, his skin sallow and his eyes sunken. When he saw her, he sat down. She sank back to her seat as well.