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Undercover	By : IrenaAdler Category: M through R > NUMB3RS Views: 2309 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own NUMB3RS, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
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Part 16 � Only Immediate Family Members

When Don went back into the waiting room, Charlie and Nena
had woken up.� Cindi was smiling as she
was introduced to them, Charlie chattering about something while rubbing his
eyes.

�Unka Don!� Nena said, padding in her slippers over to
him.� She held up her hands and he awkwardly
picked her up.� She hugged his neck and
whispered in his ear, �Unka Will got hurt.�

�Yeah,� Don said quietly, hugging her back.� �I know.�

�Is the doctor gonna make him better?�

�I hope so, honey.�

A nurse came to the waiting room a few minutes later to tell
them Will could have his one-at-a-time, five-minute visitors.� �Only immediate family members or significant
others,� she said firmly.� �We need to
really limit the visitors.�

There was a quick flurry of �No, you should go first,�
between Don and Cindi.� Don didn�t argue
too hard and soon he was walking down the hall of the ICU.

Colby was standing outside a closed door and he nodded as
Don walked up.

�Hey,� Don said and gave him a one-armed hug.� �Thanks for coming and calling everybody.�

�Of course,� Colby said. �Though I left it to your dad to
get Charlie up.�

�He can be tough,� Don said with a faint smile.

Don put his hand on the door to Will�s room and closed his
eyes, trying to prepare himself.� He took
a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Will lay silent, the hums and beeps of machines surrounding
him.� His head was wrapped in bandages,
his dark hair sticking out at all angles.�
Don imagined that they�d shaved at least some of Will�s head to get to
the wound and wondered how much.� His
shoulder was also in a bulky bandage.� Moving
slowly, Don went closer, noting the ventilator, tubes and wires that led from
Will, attached to bags and a dizzying array of monitoring machines.� Will looked pale, and Don remembered Will�s
blood seeping between his fingers as they waited for the ambulance.

Don took Will�s hand into his own bandaged ones and
shuddered at how cold Will was.� He
struggled to find something to say as he stroked the familiar hand.� �I�m here, aein,� he said at last.�
�You�re at UCLA Medical Center, in the ICU.� The doctor said that the surgery went well.�� He repeated as much as he could remember of
Dr. Jones�s explanation, because Will would want to know.��

�Your shoulder injury could have been a lot worse but it
really helped that your pecs are so--� his voice hitched. �Developed, since
that slowed the bullet.� Don�t get all
stuck up on me about it.

�You�re under round-the-clock guard by people I know I can
trust, so don�t worry about that.� You�re
safe.

�Will,� Don said quietly, squeezing Will�s hand as well as
he could.� �I want you to know that no
matter what shape you end up in after this, even if you�re paralyzed or brain damaged
or anything, I�ll still love you.� Even
if I have to spend the rest of your life feeding you and changing your diaper,
it�s okay.� Just come back to me.� I�ll take care of you.�

The nurse stuck her head in the door and gave the �time�s
up� sign.

Reluctantly, Don let go of Will�s hand and nodded.� He placed a gentle kiss on Will�s forehead
and brushed a strand of hair aside.� Then
he bit his lip and left the room.

Outside the room, he met Dr. Jones.

�Did he know I was there?� Don asked.

Dr. Jones held up her hands in a gesture of
uncertainty.� �Every brain injury is
unique.� We don�t know how aware he is of
his surroundings.� Some people remember
clearly what goes on around them when they�re in a coma, others remember
nothing.� Most people don�t remember
physical sensations, but some do.�

�It�s been somewhat established that speaking positively to
a person in a coma helps them recover, so that�s important to do.� Talk to them, read to them, things like
that.� And,� she eyed Don, �I don�t know
what situation brought Will here, but try to keep stressful conversations out
of his room, okay?�

�Okay,� Don nodded.�
�Thank you.�

She moved off down the hall and Don turned to Colby.�

�Cindi will be coming down next,� Don said.� �She�s Will�s middle sister.� You�ll recognize her �cause she looks a lot
like him.� You should know everyone else that
comes to visit, for now.� The rest of Will�s
family should be here later.�

�Got it,� Colby said.

�Can I get you a coffee?� Don asked.

�Yes, God, yes.�

Don nodded and went back to the waiting room.� He peeked his head in and gestured to Cindi
that it was her turn.� Digging in his
pocket for change, Don went to the coffee machine.� He poked a few buttons and soon had a
steaming cup of coffee.� It probably
wasn�t very good coffee, but Colby was used to drinking the coffee in the FBI break
room, so this was probably even a step up.

Gripping the cup awkwardly in his bandaged hands, Don
returned to Colby.� Colby took the cup
eagerly and blew on it.� The door to
Will�s room swung open and a teary Cindi came out.� She grabbed Don in a hug and buried her head
in Don�s shoulder.�

Don let Cindi cry against his shoulder while Colby burned
his tongue on the coffee.� Don stroked
Cindi�s back and repeated what Dr. Jones had said about the value of talking to
Will.�

Eventually, Cindi pulled back and wiped her nose.� �Don�t tell Will I was such a cry-baby,� she
said weakly.� �He�ll tease me like
crazy.�

Don smiled and nodded.�
Cindi rubbed her cheeks, cleared her throat, then pulled out her
phone.�

�Not here,� Don said gently.�
�No cellphones.� In the waiting
room is okay.�

Cindi nodded and they walked slowly down the hall.�

Back in the waiting room, a debate was going on about what
exactly was meant by �immediate family members.��

Cindi cut it short by saying to Alan and Charlie, �Will
thinks of you as family.� Go see him.�

They nodded gratefully and Alan went to take his five-minute
turn.� Cindi called her family.�

Don was sick of his bandaged hands, he had hardly felt Will�s
skin through the mass of cotton wrapped around his hands.� He went down the hall to the pharmacy he�d
seen and bought a roller bandage. Back in the bathroom, he pulled off the thick
bandages on his hands.� Not too bad.� He�d gotten worse sliding hands-first into
base on the baseball diamond.�

For a moment, he stared at his hands, trying to remember
getting the injury, but all he remembered was trying to get an angle of fire on
John Richland.� He recalled the thud-thud
of the bullets hitting John then the next bullet taking Jarvis in the eye.� He mentally added it to his personal category
of horror, though he had no regrets on these deaths.

What he saw when he looked at his torn palms was Will�s
blood, covering his hands, his arms, his chest as he held Will.� She
said you did fine, he told himself firmly.�
There was nothing more you could
have done for Will after he was shot.�
Now, before �

Gritting his teeth, Don washed his hands.� With the ease of practice, he wrapped the
thin gauze until it covered his palms.�
He leaned sideways against the bathroom wall, the tile cool against his
cheek, closed his eyes, and tried to remember how to pray.
- 15
- 16
- 17
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