A few files and binders plopped into the seat beside Don. He startled out of his reverie and sat up, eyes focusing. Neal stood before him, a strange sort of determined set to his mouth.
"We figured you could still do some work," he said.
Don knew he could not, which was why he hadn't asked for any paperwork to be sent over. For starters, he'd most certainly need a computer, and he knew he wouldn't be able to focus. He accepted the pen presented to him. "Thanks."
"Mack said I could stay if you needed me," Neal offered.
Don shook his head. "Nah, I'll be fine." Please don't leave me.
"That's—that's not what I was saying." Neal tugged on his cardigan. "I want to stay."
"For eight-plus hours?" Don checked his watch. It was four forty-five, a half hour since he'd flagged down Kimberly and asked how long Violet's surgery would take, an hour since they'd gotten to the hospital. Kimberly had said that her surgery would take over eight hours. "It'll be at least midnight before she's even out of surgery. We might not be able to see her until tomorrow."
"I don't care," Neal said. "She's News Night family. It doesn't matter how long it'll take." He dropped into the seat on the other side of the one with the paperwork. "I'm not budging from this chair."
Don contemplated this, staring at the younger man, who stared right back, lined with determination.
"Yeah, okay, whatever," he said, pretending he wasn't enormously touched by what Neal had said. "What'd you bring me?" God, Violet, don't you dare die.
Neal beamed and picked up a file.
Over the course of the next eight hours, other people from ACN drifted in. Charlie Skinner, a quick in and out sometime before Will's show started, with a clap on the shoulder for Don and a thumbs-up at Neal and some encouraging words for both. Sloan, after her segment on Will's show, with coffee for the three of them. Jim and Maggie and Gary and Tamara and Tess and Martin and Kendra and a few interns, arriving in a chaotic nebula of hushed talking and rearranging of chairs after Elliot's show was done. Mack and Elliot, not too far behind, carrying more heaps of coffee. Will and Charlie, again, both there to stay. When Don stopped Will halfway across the room and said, "You don't have to do this," Will pointedly removed his arm from Don's grasp and said, "I want to." Which was about as close as Don figured he'd ever get to saying what Neal had said. We're family.
And they were.
The hours passed. After three, Don stopped watching for a nurse. He'd expected word after midnight, but apparently that wasn't going to happen. Someone broke out some cards, and at one point they had a massive three-deck version of Go Fish going. Maggie and Neal and Jim and Will—yes, Will—went to get more coffee, and they brought back enough for the whole waiting room, which led Don to believe Will had paid. A few games of halfhearted I Spy were played. Neal pulled up some trivia quizzes, but they quickly became boring, as between all of them they knew the answer to every question. Part of the fun-suck was Will's constant (albeit quiet) ridicule of the questions. They startled a doodle contest and Tess kicked everyone's asses. Eventually they all retreated into their own chairs, talking quietly or just staring out into space. Mack fell asleep on Will's shoulder, which Don thought was one of the cuter things he'd seen in life. Will's carefully crafted Ugh she's so annoying, I'm only tolerating this because I'm on a mission to civilize expression only added to the cuteness. Across from them, Jim and Maggie were the opposite: Jim snoring softly on Maggie's shoulder, Maggie staring into space with a vaguely terrified look on her face. Their fingers were intertwined on the armrest. Charlie got up several times to take phone calls. Sloan stayed in the chair next to Don, a quiet presence of support and loyalty. They hadn't worked out as a couple, but as soon as they broke up, they were back to steadfast friends. He'd never been more grateful for that than now.
