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"I have no idea how much worse it would have been if I hadn't been there," Charlie murmurs, lowering his voice in response to Alice's presence but not actually by enough to be inaudible. "If someone had tried to move her, if it had taken longer to get an ambulance on the way..."

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(If he hadn't been there, Alice could have got to her and used her store of pentagons to fix her, even if there wasn't a hex on the loop, and right now they would be laughing about it. Fuck you, Mr. Swan.)

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"No, don't buy a plane ticket yet, let's... let's wait until we know more about the prognosis," Charlie tells his ex-wife.

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Alice bites his lip.

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"Okay. Yes, of course, you'll be the first person I call," Charlie says.

And he hangs up.
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Yeah. So.

Will talking to this guy make him able to see Bella sooner or later? He has no fucking idea. Bella, of course, could tell him. Bella is not here.

Fuck.
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Charlie sits. And puts his head in his hands.

He sobs exactly once, and then falls silent.
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Funny, that's exactly how Alice is feeling.

He closes his eyes. No one is going to let him see Bella sooner than this guy anyway. He has time to think about it.
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A doctor or a nurse or somebody pokes her head into the room and taps Charlie on the shoulder, and murmurs - genuinely too quietly to hear.

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So Alice watches Charlie.

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Charlie listens, and nods, and gets up and follows her out of the room.

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Yep. Okay.

Alice gets up and follows them as far as the hall.
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The doctor or nurse or somebody, and Charlie, are heading into a stairwell and up the stairs therein.

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...well, fuck it.

He follows them there, too.
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They go up two floors and down a hall, and then the doctor notices Alice, lagging behind.

She asks Charlie, "Is he a relative?"

Charlie looks at Alice, puzzled, and shakes his head.
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"...Are you goin' to see her, sir?" he asks. He didn't expect his voice to come out so rough, although he should have, because the last thing he did with it was cry.

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"Are you a friend of Bella's?" asks Charlie quietly.

"No friends," says the doctor, not unkindly. "Only immediate relatives."
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"Yeah," he says.

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"No friends," repeats the doctor. "Please go sit in the waiting room."

Charlie doesn't look liable to contradict her.
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Quietly, to Charlie: "Can—can you tell me how she is?"

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"On my way out, if you're there," Charlie says, looking away.

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"Okay," he says, and flees back down the stairs.

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Four hours later, Charlie plods back down the stairs.

He pauses in the waiting room.

"She's unconscious. They don't know how long it'll take her to wake up. Stable, though."

And he leaves.
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Okay.

In that case... in that case, what the hell, he goes back out to the place with the unhelpful receptionist.
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The receptionist eyes him but doesn't say anything.

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