Bearer Of Bad News


f_abby_icon.gif f_elisabeth_icon.gif

Scene Title Bearer Of Bad News
Synopsis Elisabeth is the bearer of Bad news of Johan's death.
Date May 23, 2016

Abby & Johan's Apartment

It's the kind of call no one ever wants to take. Although Elisabeth has by now made the step from cop to fed, she still keeps a scanner in her car and on her counter top at home. And she's made notes in a few of the NYPD files that if something pops up with regard to certain people, she'd like to be informed. In this case… no, she's going to take the notification herself. Her nanny is easygoing about staying with Cam and she's had Joseph a few times as well, so it's easy to arrange for her to meet Liz up on Abby's floor in twenty minutes. Elisabeth races for the apartment building before people can start calling Abby. The knock on the door is quick, brief, and hurried.

Joseph is at daycare, Liz's nanny is slightly redundant for the time being. It's a bright sunny day, it's the kind of day that's a good day. No shifts for the next two days at the hospital means she can catch up on stuff around the house like Johan's shirts and her own. She's on the third and top floor of the small apartment building, soon to move since it's not big enough for a family of four. As is habit, Abby doesn't watch the news. She doesn't like the bad news that all the stations inevitably focus on regardless of whats happening. Sure there's been decidedly less bad news on the TV but still. When the knock comes through her apartment she goes, jeans, purple maternity shirt, blonde hair up, oblivious to why Elisabeth is making her way with all due haste. Joseph will need to be picked up soon, groceries done, a mental list. Seven months along and she's still every busy and never still.

When Abby answers the door, Elisabeth offers a faint grin and keeps her tone easy and calm. "Hey… Mary Grace wants to take the boys to the park…. it's okay for her to pick up Joseph, right?" Liz had forgotten the daycare thing, Mary Grace reminded her of it. So thank goodness for that — she's scrambling, though, for a way to make sure that Abby's elder child is taken care of while Liz deals with Abby herself.

"Elisabeth! Sure. Come in, let me write her a note and call the daycare so they know to let him go with her" There's a motion for the pair of them to come in, close the door behind them. Her home is warm, lived in. Blue walls, old furniture, no fancy show home here. Slippers and shoes by the door, the smell of starch as she's ironing clothing, making sure that Johan's uniform is the way it should be. By the phone is paper and pen, she scribbles a not quickly, while she dials out.

Happy Hearts Christian Daycare knows to expect Marcy Grace and the note. Not the first time it's happened, someone else picking up Joseph. The few minutes pass, things exchanged so that the nanny can take off before Abby's attention diverts back to Elisabeth while she waddles back to the ironing board. "Planning on staying for dinner? It's spaghetti night and I haven't started so I can put a plate out for you and Cameron. I'm just Joseph would enjoy it and Johan has a new story to tell you" Hands planted against her lower back and regarding Elisabeth sunnily

Elisabeth takes the time to give Cam a sweet little-boy nuzzle before Mary Grace takes him off with her to go pick up Joseph Baker and take the boys to the park for a couple of hours. She waits until they're gone, and then turns to her friend. Her expression is calm, but there's something in her eyes now that she's not hiding it for Cameron's sake that tells Abby that there's something Not Right in the world. Liz reaches for the phone and turns off the ringer for now, leaving the handset on the counter where Abby set it. "Abby… I need to talk to you. C'mon… let's go into the living room," she says quietly, gently trying to divert the healer away from the ironing board and back toward the couch. "It's… important."

Oh shit. She's seen that look. She saw it a long time ago, she saw it a few more times between then and now and on the floor at St. Lukes. Blue eyes widen a fraction further when Elisabeth is unplugging the phone. Joseph's fine, she wouldn't have brought the nanny if Joseph was fine. Elisabeth wouldn't come if it was her father, because that's all the way down in Louisiana. Her mind runs through the list of who it could possibly be as the audiokinetic moves her away from the ironing board. She take a brief moment to flip the iron off, unplug it before she follows to awkwardly sink down into the old red couch. The unease, tension, lays heavy in the room "Who's hurt? Is it Teo? Deckard? Oh lord please not either of them"

There is no easy way to say it. There's no way to break it to the healer that there is nothing she's going to be able to do to help her husband. "No, Abby… not Teo or Deckard." She reaches out and puts both of her hands around the other blonde's and says softly, "It's Johan, Abby." She watches Abby's face, regret and pain in her expression. If there were something Abby could do for her husband, Elisabeth would be rushing her out the door.

She heard her wrong. She should get some Q-Tips and clean out her ears cause she said Johan. The blonde shakes her head, ponytail swinging from side to side, her hands turning cool, clasped beneath Elisabeth's. "I talked to him an hour ago Liz. He was substituting for Miranda since she was going to be late for her shift, he was coming home in a few hours and we were going to have spaghetti" Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt. Johan. "Liz. Your joking, please tell me your joking" Because Elisabeth never lies and this would be a terrible joke if she was. It's not April yet. "Liz…"

Shaking her head, Elisabeth can see when the truth starts to hit Abby, and she squeezes the pregnant woman's hands tightly — she doesn't attempt to hold her, not yet. Because the first response very well may just be rage, and Liz wants to give her room to move if she needs to. "His bus was caught in a massive traffic accident, Abby. He was pronounced on the scene. His captain called me… he knows we're friends, and I stuck it in both yours and Johan's files that if something ever came up I wanted to know. There was… it was instant, Abby. He never … he didn't suffer." And oh, how minuscule a comfort that is, and how well Elisabeth knows that.


He didn't suffer.

Johan's dead.

"Help me up Elisabeth" Because she's to the point that she can't get off the couch herself once she's there. "Help me up or turn on the TV, I want to see the news" The strain in her voice is there, taught, on the verge of horrified. "Please Elisabeth"

There's a bit of a nod, and Liz does what is asked. She doesn't help Abby up, but she scrambles around for the remote control. Because somewhere on the local channels is going to be the 'breaking news' of this pile-up. It's tying up the entire Queens borough Bridge and will be for hours, traffic's being routed around. Helicopters are getting visuals of the pile-up near one end of the bridge where an overturned tanker truck has slammed through a guard rail and accidents then occurred as a result. Somewhere in the mess on the bridge, an ambulance is literally smashed between a semi and a half a dozen cars.

oh. God.

Johan. A hand drop to her swollen belly, blinking repeatedly at the screen, the close ups of the ambulance from the Helicopter and someone talking about the mass casualties, no names released yet till next of kin has been notified. 22 people dead so far. It's like some really bad dream and anytime now, any time if she just pinches herself she's going to wake up. Unconsciously she's stopped breathing, air held in her lungs, hand tightening on the top of her belly. "OhgodOhgod, Liz… oh god I wasn't there. If I was there, I cou… Liz, liz" Blonde eyes turn away from the TV to the FBI officer, turning her hands to hold them like someone who's begging for something. "If he's alive, just a little, I can help him, I can help him, you need to take me to him liz. he's my husband. I can heal him I can save him"

And now Elisabeth wraps her arms as tightly as she can around Abby. The older blonde says quietly, "He's not even a little bit alive, Abby. I will take you to the hospital, absolutely, right this minute… but there's absolutely nothing you can do for him. He's …" She swallows hard and repeats what the captain gave her, honestly and quietly. "His captain told me the head trauma killed him instantly, and it took them nearly 20 minutes after they got to the rig to cut Johan out. There was nothing you could have done. I want to make sure you and the baby are all right before we go, okay? Captain Bertelli's expecting you." She's gentle but firm here — Abby's pregnancy complicates this matter a lot. The shock could send her into early labor, and Liz wants to avoid that at all costs.

"The baby is fine" She knows the baby is fine because every day she check like clockwork before she goes to bed at night. Ensuring that the girl in her stomach is hearty. Same as she did for Liz when she was pregnant with Cameron and she came within touching range of the agent. It's sinking in, slowly. Enough so that the woman's breathing picks up, the seriousness of the situation getting it's fingers into her brain. "Oh god. He needs me" One hand holding fiercly around the other woman. "He's dead Liz.. oh lord. Joseph, what am I going to do? He won't understand, he's too young to understand Liz. Help me up. Help me up I need.. I need to get my shoes, I need my purse and you… Take me to him, I have to try" She won't believe it, won't let herself believe until she's tried to heal him, fix him.

Elisabeth wants to cry for Abby's loss, but she can't. Right now, Abby needs her to be strong. She'll indulge in the luxury of tears when she's alone. She helps Abby to her feet and turns off the television, makes sure the stove and the oven and the iron are definitely off while Abby slides her shoes on, and then she puts her arm around her friend and walks her out to the car. It's too soon to tell Abby that it's going to be okay… they've suffered such deep losses before, and … it's never really quite as okay again. Though it does get better. Eventually. Liz helps Abby into the vehicle to take her down to the hospital where her husband's body lies.

Her motions are automatic. Her mind reverting into protection mode, shielding her, shoring her up so she can function at a basic level. Get your feet in the shoes. She stares at the sneakers for a moment, eschewing them in favor of a pair of croc's. Johan ties up her sneakers for her right now. That vaguely flits across her mind. He just gets down on his knees and entertains Joseph by doing the lessons about bunny's around the trees and in the hole. She grabs her purse, a cardigan and is moving for the door beside her friend, the waddle that most women great with child end up doing towards the stairs. There is no elevator in this place. Down to the bottom floor, out to her car. She's numb as she sits with her elbow on the arm rest of the door, facing out the window, watching the street pass by but not. It's there, she's just got a sort of invisible wall between her and the rest of the world. Between her mind and the events happening outside her skull even as her hand circles restlessly around her middle as if to soothe the unborn child. "Just get me to him" Murmured quietly.

"I will, sweetheart," Liz replies softly. As she drives, she gives Abby the space to keep the bubble of numbness around her, but she listens. Closely. The sound of the baby's heartbeat reassures her, the sound of Abby's steady right now. She drives quickly, competently, to the hospital, helping Abby out of the car. As they head for the doors, Liz can see that it's still a madhouse at the ER entrance, and from the parking lot she flips open her phone and calls Abby's and Johan's captain. "Bertelli, we're in the parking lot. Meet us at the doors, okay? She needs to see him." And given that the man knows what Abby's skills are, she figures that he's going to understand what Abby has to do… Liz is just hoping that Abby herself will be able to know that it's pointless, that she'll be able to comprehend it instead of hurting herself and the child she carries trying.

There's ambulances everywhere, people coming, barely anyone coming out. St. Lukes seeming to be one of the trauma centers and in part, they knew that she worked there. A tall stout man, her former captain and Johan's current one makes his way past a pair of NYFD paramedics and towards Abby as she and Elisbaeth emerge from the car. "Abigail" "Patrick" The blonde answers quietly. "Agent Harrison says you want to go in and see Johan" The blonde nods twice. "I need to try and heal him" Not even a glance to Elisabeth right now, just her hands hanging on either side of herself, clenched in fist. The big man just nods, a glance to Elisbeth before he beckons the pair of them with him towards the emergency room proper. "They put him in a room to the side, when I requested it" It's St. Lukes. They know her, they know Johan. Knew Johan.

Elisabeth merely shakes her head slightly to Bertelli after greeting him with a simple "Captain," giving him in one glance all he needs to know — Abby hasn't hit the break point yet. And it's probably good she's here at the hospital anyway. Everyone can browbeat the blonde into being monitored if need be, though Liz is herself keeping a close ear on the baby's heart rate. She's concerned that when Abby does lose it, the baby might have some distress. But she walks with them. Abby's among all kinds of friends now, and that… can only be to the good.

Bertelli nods once, guiding the the small group through the hallways, past the trauma rooms, the curtained off area's that hold people waiting to be seen. You can tell where the room is that Johan rests. There's a handful of paramedics outside, all done with bringing their own people in and waiting now, familiar faces to the blonde woman. Each has spent many a day in a rig with her if not eating at her table when they're brought home for dinner.

Abby avoids their gazes, blue eyes dropped to their chins till she's directed to the door with one hand planted on her belly, the other at her lower back. Not that they can meet her eyes either. Bertelli holds the door open for the blondes, Abby first. One of the medics scoots in, grabbing a stool to slide towards the head of bed for Abigail to sit at. She's patched them up a time or two as well, and this isn't the first time they've stood outside a room while someone comes in to say goodbye.

There he is. Dusky skin, no blood circulating to pump essential fluids to the necessary body parts and keep it colored. His short hair mussed, someone made an effort to wipe away blood, breathing tube sticking out of his mouth. It's seeing him, it's her hands reaching out to touch Johans brow and the lack of any warmth or tingling pulled from her, her breath held that bring it all crashing down on her. "Liz… he's…"

Elisabeth wraps her arms around Abigail from behind now, barely taller than the younger blonde, and cradles her with arms wrapped around her torso and upper arms, offering the only support she can. "I know," she whispers softly, sadly.

There's no words, just silence that's soon broken by Abigail's wail, high and keening as she finally lets it sink in, stops denying it. The words burble out soon after, incoherent prayers of various natures, for Johan, to god, a few why's tossed in there. Her legs eventually give way sinking towards the ground, the back of her purple shirt riding up and exposing the elastic waist of her maternity pants leaving liz to bear the weight of the blonde and the baby inside her as she holds onto Elisabeth's arms tightly.

Holding her tightly, Elisabeth merely sinks to the floor with Abby, never letting go. She glances up briefly, watching Bertelli cover Johan's body once more and then leave the two women alone in the room, the two sharing that look that is common to cops, EMTs, firefighters the world over. The one that shares the pain of losing one of their own and the helplessness to make it better for the spouse left behind. As the door closes behind him, Elisabeth rocks Abby a bit, letting her cry. A soft, wordless crooning can be almost felt, much as one would do for a distraught child, but she doesn't try to give platitudes or stop Abby's tears.

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