Rain Check?

~83~

Chris POV

"What just happened?" I'm screaming at Scott from across the kitchen table.

"Excuse me?" a small, annoyingly chirpy voice filters into the room from my computer screen, however I'm too shaken up to actually acknowledge it.

"Scott!" He either doesn't hear me, or is ignoring me as I see him fiddling with his phone before holding it up to his ear.

Scott's leg is bouncing in time with my own heart beat, racing as if under some form of trauma. "Ma!" he yells into the phone. "Are you all okay?"

This is the type of moment that my anxiety cannot handle. While I await with concern over the safety of my own family, I know that I won't get answers on Dempsey quite as easily.

I hear an "Oh thank heavens" fall with a sigh from Scott's lips as I'm dashing into the living room. A swipe of the remote and click of the buttons has me on our local news station, waiting as they're in mid discussion over the details. My stomach lurches as they begin playing the same video I just saw, except now it's on a larger screen.

What I thought was just Dempsey rushing the children to the bus for safety, is magnified as I see the pure fear masked under her drive and desire to take care of the students.

Any other person seeing this video wouldn't know that about her. But he knows her well enough to make that assumption as she's become a master at hiding her true emotions. But it's for a split second when she looks over her shoulder the last time that he sees the mask break, her mouth drops open for only a moment before she's yelling at the kids once more.

Grabbing my phone I open the lock screen. The screen that has an image of us on the red carpet, the one the news stations ran with announcing that I was off the market. I give my head a shake, refusing to focus on the insane what ifs and focus in on calling Dempsey.

"Ma, Carly and Ethan are all fine. They left about an hour before the shooting started." Scott is completely relieved while I'm getting nothing but an insane busy signal coming from Demi's phone. "Hey. Did you hear me?"

I throw my phone with anger against the couch and watch it bounce onto the floor. "I can't reach her!" Scott looks at me with confusion. I realize he didn't notice that was Dempsey with the children. I move closer to the television screen where I'd paused the live feed. I point to the brown haired woman, her arms outstretched to usher the kids quicker towards the bus.

The relief on his face falls and he pulls his own phone out again. "It's busy," he mutters nervously, barely looking up at me. I bite my tongue and hold back the sarcasm that threatens to befall the situation. 

  Moving closer to the television set, my arms rest against the mantle, eyes glued to the screen in front of me. A million emotions flood my brain; fear, anger, adoration. I can hear Scott speaking, but honestly it all sounds garbled to me as I can't tear my eyes away from the horrified expression on Demi's face. A harsh hand grips my shoulder, pulling me away from my nightmare. "Did you hear me?"

  "No!" I yell out, ready to turn back towards the screen for even a glimpse of her safety. 

  "We'll go to the hospital anyway.  With there being all those kids around, they probably would take them to the hospital just for the trauma of being witnesses." He starts shoving me in the direction of the door. He stops abruptly at a foyer table, pushing my wallet, watch and keys into my hands before running back to the living room, emerging with my cell phone. "I'll drive. You just keep trying to reach her. 

  Downtown Boston is insane as Scott tries to find the easiest route to get to the hospital. Getting as close to the park as we can we still see cops walking around, taking statements. But there's no sign of  school bus, nor ambulances at this point. 

  Call it brother's intuition but it's as though Scott reads my mind. "That's good, Chris. Maybe they're even already finished at the hospital and are back at the school, waiting on parents to come get the kids." He pulls down one more side street, taking us into a back parking lot of the emergency room. I nod at his optimism, but that seed of dread still sits in the pit of my stomach as I try Dempsey one more time. 

  Scott parks, reaching into the backseat he tosses a ball cap onto my lap. "Just in case." He climbs out as my breath catches. There's finally no longer a busy signal. My moment of relief is short lived as it rings once and goes to voicemail. Getting this far I decide I should leave a message. I listen to her smiling voice, wishing to hear her tell me she's alright rather than to leave a message and she'd get back to me when she's able. 

  "Dempsey, it's Chris," I pause, almost wanting to chuckle. "Like you wouldn't know that already. I saw the news, and now I can't get a hold of you, so you can imagine my fears at the moment. I need to know you're okay, baby. Please, tell me you're okay." Swallowing around the lump that sits in my throat I grab up the cap and follow Scott towards the entrance. 

  As anyone would expect, it's a mad house. The emergency room doors all but blocked by both medical staff and police, stopping each person to discuss their reasoning. Those who are sick are taken inside without question. I overhear an officer mention to someone that if anyone was injured in the shooting they were brought in by ambulance and that there had in fact been six rigs that came through with injuries. We watch as several relieved men and women slip off back to their car, discovering that their loved one was in fact not hurt. 

  Scott does his best to lead us as close to the front as possible. People are pushing and shoving around me, I'm almost too dazed to even focus on anything more as I hear Scott shout Dempsey's name over the few people that are still ahead of him. 

  Finally moving another two feet ahead gives me the slightest glance around the officer and nurse to see into the waiting room. I see several people waiting, pacing, sitting. But what catches my attention most is a head of curly, red hair just before the woman turns around. Her worried eyes catching my own amongst the crowd. 

*Unedited, and shorter at the moment. Thought you might like the next part even if it was shorter.