What If

38. The Letter

"Drink this."

I looked up and saw Michael standing in front of me, holding out a cup of coffee.

"Thanks," I said as I took it from him.

I was currently sitting on the floor in the hospital, my arms resting on my knees. When I first got here, the FBI had me checked by a doctor, even though I kept resisting. I was fine. My black eye and busted lip was nothing compared to what Sean was going through.

According to Michael, it took a few agents and doctors over an hour to calm me down after they rushed Sean into surgery. After everything that happened, I was out of it. I was exhausted, scared, and most of all angry. Once I finally settled down, I started pacing. Then I tried to sit in the chair in the waiting room. Then I started pacing some more. It was an endless cycle. Now, five hours later, here we are.

Sean was still in surgery, I haven't gotten an update in two hours, and my mind was assuming the worst. The first time they came to update me, they told me surgery had just started and he had lost a lot of blood. The second update was worse. They told me that he flat-lined twice and they still hadn't retrieved the bullet.

Anne called me multiple times to check on him. Every time she called, I told her the same thing...I told her I had no fucking idea. Michael stopped trying to reassure me that everything is going to be okay. Probably because I threatened to punch him in the face if he said it one more time. There's no way he could guarantee Sean was going to be okay. No one could guarantee that.

"You should eat something," he said.

"I'm not hungry." I wasn't hungry at all. I felt sick to my stomach and I just wanted to throw up.

"I know. But, still. You need to eat, Lydia. Come with me to the cafeteria. The doctor will call you with any updates."

This is the third time that Michael has tried to get me to eat. Deciding it would be better to just humor him and stretch my legs, I answered, "Fine."

I got to my feet and felt a little woozy. Maybe he was right. My blood sugar was probably low. It was almost 11 at night, and since I got grabbed from the hospital around lunch time, eating was probably the wiser choice.

We walked in silence to the cafeteria. I went and sat at an empty table while he went in line and got the food. I haven't had a chance to talk to my mother yet. It was still weird calling her that, but right now it seemed to help me knowing that she was in the operating room with Sean. At least I knew he couldn't be in better hands.

"Here you go." Michael join me at the table and he handed me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an orange soda.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

"You're welcome."

I took a couple bites of the sandwich and a few sips of my soda. I had to admit, I definitely needed to eat. But there was something else I needed to do as well.

"Michael? I just wanted to say thank you. You know, for flying here and staying. You being here...I can't tell you how much that means to me."

I could tell by his expression that he was surprised by my words. But, it was the truth. I don't know how I would have made it these past five hours without him here. Without someone here that was supporting me. Comforting me.

"Anytime, Lydia. I told you, it's different now. We're family."

When he reached out and took my hand, my emotions got the best of me. Tear started pouring out of my eyes as the weight of the day came pounding down on me. Michael's got to his feet and came around to my side of the table, hugging me and letting me cry.