Status: New
Don't Fall Recklessly, Headlessly in Love With Me
New York, I love you, but you're letting me down.
The wreck was tragic, to say the least. The driver was dead. He died instantly, but now his body is burning away; deteriorating with every second. In the back of the limo, Blair and Chuck’s still bodies are glittered with shattered glass and tiny drops of rain that are splashing through the broken windows. Blair is weaving in and out of consciousness when she hears the sirens growing closer. They sound loud and colorful, even though they are still far away.
Within minutes, the firefighters are extinguishing the small fire under the hood. Once given the clear, the paramedics pull Blair from the car. The icy rain gnaws at her skin. Her fingers ache; her head throbs. But all she is concerned about is Chuck.
~
Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, walks into the conference room where the members of his team are waiting. Five of the agents are sitting at a round table, while a redheaded woman stands at the front of the room. Aaron greets his team with a simple “Good Morning,” as he sits down. “Good Morning, Sir” flows through the room in various tones. Just as the briefing begins, Aaron’s cellphone rings.
Suddenly things just happen that we can’t explain
The phone call was brief. He didn’t give any details to his waiting team, only stating that he had a personal matter to attend to and that he will join them as soon as he could. The flight from Washington D.C. to New York City took a little over two hours, with boarding and all the security procedures. This process would have been much quicker if he had the private jet he used for work. By 11:45a he is entering the hospital. All Saints Hospital is in the heart of Manhattan. It is known for its effective trauma center and that is exactly where Aaron is heading. His face is blank, except for his eyes: deep, brown and emotional, it’s clear that he is anxious. He approaches the nurse’s station, asking where she is. The nurse guides him to a room shielded by a flimsy, blue curtain. The nurse peeks in before pushing the curtain out of the way and revealing the reason Aaron has returned to NYC; his daughter, Blair.
I know what you’re thinking, but darling, you aren’t thinking straight
The room is tinted an ugly turquoise color, partially because of the curtain surrounding it, and partially because of the dimmed light above the bed. Covered with scratches, bruises and a quarter-sized gash on her forehead, Blair is asleep. The nurse updates Aaron on her condition and fills him in on what she knows of the wreck.
“Your daughter and a friend were on their way home, after leaving a hotel opening in the Upper East Side. Apparently, the hotel was shut down unexpectedly because of a faulty liquor license. Other say your daughter’s friend was the owner, and after they left together, paparazzi followed, trying to catch a glimpse – news must be slow these days. Witnesses in surrounding cars said that some of the photographers were on motorcycles, and that they were weaving through traffic, and apparently ran their car off the road.”
As Aaron begins to ask a question, he notices Blair stirring in the bed. She’s beginning to wake up. Was this a mistake?
Within minutes, the firefighters are extinguishing the small fire under the hood. Once given the clear, the paramedics pull Blair from the car. The icy rain gnaws at her skin. Her fingers ache; her head throbs. But all she is concerned about is Chuck.
~
Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, walks into the conference room where the members of his team are waiting. Five of the agents are sitting at a round table, while a redheaded woman stands at the front of the room. Aaron greets his team with a simple “Good Morning,” as he sits down. “Good Morning, Sir” flows through the room in various tones. Just as the briefing begins, Aaron’s cellphone rings.
Suddenly things just happen that we can’t explain
The phone call was brief. He didn’t give any details to his waiting team, only stating that he had a personal matter to attend to and that he will join them as soon as he could. The flight from Washington D.C. to New York City took a little over two hours, with boarding and all the security procedures. This process would have been much quicker if he had the private jet he used for work. By 11:45a he is entering the hospital. All Saints Hospital is in the heart of Manhattan. It is known for its effective trauma center and that is exactly where Aaron is heading. His face is blank, except for his eyes: deep, brown and emotional, it’s clear that he is anxious. He approaches the nurse’s station, asking where she is. The nurse guides him to a room shielded by a flimsy, blue curtain. The nurse peeks in before pushing the curtain out of the way and revealing the reason Aaron has returned to NYC; his daughter, Blair.
I know what you’re thinking, but darling, you aren’t thinking straight
The room is tinted an ugly turquoise color, partially because of the curtain surrounding it, and partially because of the dimmed light above the bed. Covered with scratches, bruises and a quarter-sized gash on her forehead, Blair is asleep. The nurse updates Aaron on her condition and fills him in on what she knows of the wreck.
“Your daughter and a friend were on their way home, after leaving a hotel opening in the Upper East Side. Apparently, the hotel was shut down unexpectedly because of a faulty liquor license. Other say your daughter’s friend was the owner, and after they left together, paparazzi followed, trying to catch a glimpse – news must be slow these days. Witnesses in surrounding cars said that some of the photographers were on motorcycles, and that they were weaving through traffic, and apparently ran their car off the road.”
As Aaron begins to ask a question, he notices Blair stirring in the bed. She’s beginning to wake up. Was this a mistake?
♠ ♠ ♠
The lyrics within the story is from "The Moment I Said It" by Imogen Heap.