| Harry Lipschitz tucked the appointment card into his pocket and sighed. Lost in thought, he navigated his way to the elevator and headed to the lobby on autopilot. Though he'd promised her he'd go home and rest after seeing Tom, Frannie had reluctantly agreed that he should take the sudden opening in Dr. Devona Gaylord's schedule. While having his beloved wife home and at his side again was a gigantic step in setting all in his world right once again, he had yet to get through an entire night without waking breathless and literally shaking from a nightmare. He had suspected that Cassy was having the same problem from the dark circles and bags under her eyes that makeup couldn't quite hide. Frannie's tale of a nightmare-interrupted nap in the waiting area only served to confirm his suspicions. For now, he could only hope that his wife was once again right, that Cassy could be convinced to undergo counseling by the fact that her captain was doing the same. He knew Frannie was right about one thing--he needed help, much as he loathed admitting it. Though he'd only had one brief session, Harry was certain Dr. Gaylord would be able to help all of them through this crisis. All he had to do was get the others to sign on. Initially, he'd been nervous and reluctant to admit his feelings of responsibility and guilt to a total stranger, but the doctor had quickly put him at ease. Dr. Dee, as she'd invited him to call her, was not at all what he'd expected. Rather than platitudes and quick resolutions, she'd offered him honesty and promised a hard road to travel. "How quickly you get to the end of that road is entirely up to you," she warned. "It will depend on how hard you are willing to work and how honest you are prepared to be." When he'd vowed to be completely honest with her, she smiled. "I have no doubt of that, Captain. In fact, being honest with me will be the easiest part of all this. No, the hard part--the most important part--will be for you to be completely honest with yourself." The doctor had a down to earth manner and he found it easy to talk with her, far more so than he'd anticipated. He hoped with all he had that Cassy and the three Ryans would think so, too. Now if he could just figure out a way to get them to agree to see her. Bright sunlight startled Harry out of his thoughts as he found himself outside the building and headed to the parking lot. He had stopped to fumble in his pocket for his sunglasses when a forlorn figure seated on a bench to his right caught his attention. Quickly deciding a slight delay in his return to the office was in order, he headed over to join the bench's lone occupant. "Lyam, I'm surprised to see you out here. Someone did let you know Tom is awake?" Lyam shifted nervously, but didn't look up. "No. Yes. No. I mean, I know he's awake. His mother is with him." Harry frowned and slowly sat down next to the distraught father. When the other man remained silent, the captain took the bull by the horns. "Lyam?" Ryan sighed heavily and bowed his head to stare at the ground several moments before speaking. "Have you eaten anything lately, Harry?" Lipschitz couldn't help but shudder at the question. "Yeah, Frannie dragged me to the cafeteria and made me eat some�stuff before my, ah, I mean after I checked on Tom." Lyam chuckled despite himself and finally turned to face the captain. "That good, huh?" Harry smiled ruefully. "Good is definitely NOT a word I'd associate with the cafeteria's food." Ryan snorted in agreement and looked out to study the parking lot. "No, me neither." After a brief silence, Lyam spoke up again. "So, I guess you were heading back to the station then." Captain Lipschitz hesitated before responding. "Yeah, thought I'd check in before heading home. I promised Frannie I'd try to get some rest." He paused to pat Lyam's shoulder. "But you know, I could really go for a coffee and some dessert if you want some company while you eat." Ryan shook his head, but didn't meet the captain's gaze. "Nah, I'm fine. Don't seem to have much of an appetite right now." Another brief silence passed before Lyam turned again to face Harry. "So. I guess your people have all been working pretty hard on this whole business." Harry nodded in agreement. "Yeah, everyone from the patrolmen on up have really been busting their tails. Aside from the whole 'we take care of our own' issue, Tom is very well liked among his fellow detectives. No one will let up until this has been settled once and for all." Lyam swallowed hard and had to look away for a moment. When he finally turned to again face Harry, there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. "So, you think the boys at the station are hungry?" Lipschitz quirked his eyebrows in question, but said nothing at first. When Lyam nervously shrugged a shoulder and looked away, Harry decided it was time for answers. "What's going on here, Lyam? Why aren't you up there with Tom now that he's finally awake?" Ryan silently picked at the knee of his trousers and Harry patiently gave him time to gather his thoughts. When he finally began to speak, he wasn't able to look the captain in the eye. "Margaret and I agreed that I need to work through a few things before I see Tommy. I thought I was prepared, but when I got to the door of his room and heard his voice�" Lyam's voice broke and he paused to wipe away the start of tears from his eyes. "When I heard him and Maggie talking, I realized�I couldn't�I'm not ready." Harry realized that this might be a perfect opportunity to get Tom's father to consider setting up that appointment with Dr. Gaylord. He knew he'd have to be very careful in going about suggesting it, though. "Lyam, I'd like to help you." Ryan turned to him, gratitude evident in his weary countenance. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that. Do you have a key to Tom's apartment?" The captain couldn't help but look confused. "Yeah, I've got a key to both his place and Cassy's for emergencies. Why?" Lyam smiled broadly, though the tiredness was still there. "That's great! How about stopping by on your way to the office?" Harry was still confused, his own weariness preventing him from seeing where Lyam was going with his request. "Sure, okay. But don't you have a key?" "Of course." Ryan rose from the bench and stretched before turning to lend the captain a hand. Harry accepted the assistance, now more confused than ever as the two started toward the parking lot. "If you've got a key, why do you need me to let you in?" Lyam shot Harry a confused look of his own. "I don't." Before the captain could respond, the pair reached the captain's vehicle. Harry had expected the exhausted father to head around to the passenger's side, but he kept right on going until Harry called to him. "Lyam, do you need a ride to the apartment?" "Thanks, Harry, but no. I need to stop at the market first." Lyam turned and again headed toward his rental. "Lyam, Frannie and Cassy had groceries delivered once we knew for certain you were on your way. The place should be pretty well stocked, if I know those two." Ryan stopped dead in his tracks, but didn't immediately turn around. "Uh, yeah, they did great. I just�need a few more things, that's all." The captain narrowed his gaze and walked over to approach the man. Ryan still hadn't turned around and the cop in Harry smelled a bit of rat. "Lyam, what's really going on here?" A sheepish-looking Lyam finally turned back to explain. "Okay. The thing is, I sort of went on a bit of a cooking binge earlier and used up most of what was there. You know Maggie and I are spending almost all of our time here and even if we went over for meals, there is way too much food for just the two of us. So I thought that maybe you could, you know, stop by and take it to the station for the guys. Since they've been working so hard, they might appreciate a good meal." Lipschitz searched the weary father's gaze before accepting the explanation. "Alright, Lyam. I'm sure you're right, the boys--and girls--at the station would very much enjoy dinner ala Ryan instead of the usual take out fare." Harry briefly looked down at his still immobilized arm and added, "I'll send someone by to pick it up." Lyam nodded gratefully and turned to proceed to his rental car. Harry watched him for several moments before calling to him again. "You do know that cooking up a storm isn't going to solve anything in the long run." Lyam stopped abruptly, but didn't turn around so the captain pressed on. "When you're ready to admit you need help, you know where to find me." Ryan resumed his trek with no acknowledgement of the other man's words. Harry shook his head in defeat before calling out one more time. "Don't take too long, Lyam. For Tom's sake, as well as your own." ********************************** Margaret Ryan wiped the cool cloth gently over her sleeping son's battered face. His fever was persistent; though not rising, it stubbornly refused to break. Dr. Morris had assured them that the results of the lab culture should be coming in anytime now and a more effective course of antibiotics would then immediately be started. Tears sprang to her eyes when Tom began to murmur and whimper, quickly followed by twitching of his fingers and then his feet. The increasingly familiar sequence signaled a repeat of the nightmares that seemed to plague him every time he fell asleep now that the sedatives had been cut back. The cloth was tossed back into the basin of water before she leaned down to croon in his ear. "Shh, everything is okay now, sweetie. You're safe. You're in the hospital and they're going to have you well in no time. Shush now and rest, my angel." She then began to hum his favorite childhood lullaby and was relieved when he quickly settled without waking. Her heart broke as she lightly touched her cheek to his forehead--the closest she could get to giving him a hug due to all his injuries. Satisfied he was again sleeping peacefully, Margaret straightened up to reach for the abandoned cloth and was surprised to find a nurse hanging yet another bag on the IV pole. The nurse whispered an apology when the weary mother jumped upon seeing her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Dr. Morris wanted this new antibiotic started right away and I was trying not to wake him," she explained as she connected the new bag to the tube leading into Tom's arm. Margaret smiled hopefully as she whispered back. "Does this mean that the culture test results are back?" The nurse returned the smile and quietly answered, "Yes, they just came up. We should see the fever begin to drop fairly quickly now." Margaret made a quick sign of the cross before softly replying, "Thanks, that's great news." The nurse nodded and finished adjusting the settings on the IV before quietly exiting the room. Margaret watched her go and turned back to retrieve the cloth from the basin. A small groan alerted her to the fact that her son was waking. She wiped the cool cloth across his forehead and watched as his eyes began to flutter, then remain open. Though the swelling had lessened, Tom's right eye was still too swollen for him to see out of and Margaret made sure to stay in clear range of his good left eye. She smiled down at him as he recognized her. His face twisted in pain when a small cough escaped as Tom attempted to speak. He gratefully accepted a few sips of the water his mother offered and closed his eyes as he settled back into the bed. He roused again when he felt the blessedly cool cloth on his face and blinked several times in an effort to clear his hazy vision. Though only marginally successful, he recognized the familiar face of the woman who had spent so many years taking care of him when he was ill and attempted a smile. The gesture was quickly abandoned when his effort to shift to a more comfortable position in the bed brought seemingly every nerve ending in his body to life, all screaming in protest. Margaret instinctively placed her hand in his and he gratefully grabbed hold while he rode out the pain. "Easy, sweetheart. That's it, slow and easy now." Tom wasn't able to hear the soothing encouragement from his mother over the roaring in his ears, but slowly the pain receded and his harsh breathing slowed to normal. He tried to settle back into the pillows, but couldn't quite seem to get comfortable. His eyes shone with pure misery as he turned to his mother. "Hot." Margaret gently dabbed the freshened cloth over his face as she gazed sympathetically back at him. "I know, honey, I know. Try to hang in there a little longer, okay? You've still got a pretty high fever, but they've just started a new medicine that should have you feeling better in no time." He nodded slightly in acknowledgement, but didn't try to speak. Bleary eyes looked around the room in an attempt to find something to take his mind off his discomfort. Noting they were alone, he questioned her. "Dad?" She smiled, heartened by the fact that he asked for Lyam. "Back at your place. Cooking. He needed to�" Margaret caught herself before revealing her husband's mental state and quickly changed her answer. "He wanted to do something for all the folks at the department. They've all worked so hard to find you and bring you back to us." Tom was beginning to struggle to keep his eyes open already and didn't notice the hesitation in her answer. He nodded in recognition of her explanation and allowed his eyes to remain closed. Part of him wanted to ask about Cassy and Harry, but he just couldn't summon the energy to form the words. He endeavored to drift off, but was unable to get comfortable and groaned in frustration. He braced himself and again shifted slightly. This time he was better prepared for the pain and it quickly passed. Upon hearing his small grunts of discomfort, Margaret rinsed the cloth and resumed sponging his face. Bolstered by their brief conversation, she began to again softly hum his favorite lullaby. Her spirits were further lifted when a quirky smile appeared on Tom's face. "'S nice," he murmured. Her own smile broadened as she stopped to again rinse out the cloth. "I think the water is getting a little warm, though. I should go change it." Dropping the cloth back into the water, she stood and picked up the basin. His left eye popped open and a frown quickly replaced the smile. "No." Her eyes widened in surprise at his adamant tone. "Oh, well okay. I'll wait until you fall asleep." Margaret quickly replaced the basin, wrung out the cloth, and returned to dabbing it across his face. Tom settled momentarily, then opened his good eye to glare at her. "More," he demanded. Although momentarily stunned, Margaret almost burst out laughing. For in spite of all the bruises and swelling, Thomas Ryan looked for all the world like a petulant child as he pouted. "I won't stop," she agreed. "I promise." "No." His glare softened, then morphed into a pleading look, complete with puppy dog eyes. "Hum." Margaret's eyes again widened and she couldn't help but smile as she finally realized what he wanted. "Oh! Sure, honey." The mother in her was unable to resist placing a quick kiss on his forehead. "Anything for my angel," she crooned, slipping in an endearment from his childhood. Then, as requested, she quickly resumed humming and wiping his fevered brow. Tom closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. She smiled, never ceasing her lullaby, and watched her son's breathing even out as he drifted off to sleep. |
| Part Forty-One |
 |
|
 |
 |