Vigil 
by R'rain 
 
 
She looked up at the newcomer to her son's room, taking in his 
appearance, his behavior, trying to fit him into the big picture.  He 
looked nervous, hovering at the door and looking at all the machines, 
all the tubes.  He hadn't noticed that anyone else was in the room. 
 
"Hello," she said, taking her son's hand comfortingly, possessively, 
into her own. 
 
He started a little, then looked at her.  "Hello," he returned.  "Can 
I...?"  He gestured at the interior of the room, and she nodded. 
 
"Of course," she said.  "If the nurses let you in this far, who am I 
to stop you?" 
 
"I don't know..." he began, raising an eyebrow in her direction. 
 
She seemed to take a liking to his hesitant demeanor.  "Virginia," 
she introduced herself.  "Tim's my son." 
 
Understanding flooded his face.  "You're his mother.  Of course.  How 
are you?" 
 
"I've been better," she said sadly, turning to look at her son's face 
and brushing the hair off his forehead.  "He's alive...that's what I 
have to keep telling myself.  He's alive." 
 
"Do you mind if I sit down?" he asked her, moving closer to the bed 
and laying his fingertips and the edge of the crisp, white sheets. 
 
"Please, go ahead," she said.  "It's rare enough to find a seat free 
in this room.  Timmy hardly gets a moment to himself." 
 
"How is he?" he asked, apologetic for his presence, but not enough 
that he could bring himself to leave.  "I just heard, a couple hours 
ago." 
 
"Oh?  Then you're not a police officer?" 
 
"Me?  No, I'm....I'm a friend.  Chris Rawls."  He was too far away to 
offer her his hand, but he smiled and she nodded in acknowledgment. 
 
"I was beginning to think he didn't have any, outside work.  He 
really loved what he did, you know.  It was his life."  She looked 
down at him again, a proud smile on her face. 
 
"I know," he agreed.  "I tell him that all the time.  He can't get 
away from his work, because it's a part of him.  Even this...it won't 
stop him.  He'll get back on his feet and start all over again, 
because he has to.  It drives him." 
 
"He will," she agreed sadly.  "A mother never wants this for her 
child, you know.  Oh, I'm proud of him, but deep inside I wish that 
my son had been driven to do something safe, and let someone else 
make the world a better place." 
 
"Tim could never do that." 
 
"You're right, he couldn't.  It's a selfish wish, but we all make it, 
mothers.  Even those of us who can't admit it, make it.  We never 
want to lose our little boys." 
 
"He'll be all right," he said, his reassurance unnecessary, but still 
comforting to the both of them.  His hand twitched a little as he 
stopped himself from touching his lover's body, contenting himself 
with clutching the sheet helplessly. 
 
"You're a very good friend, aren't you?" 
 
"I'd like to think so." 
 
"He's never mentioned you." 
 
A clench of pain shot through his chest, barely stopped before it 
could appear on his face.  "We haven't known one another very long.  
A few months.  He solved the murder of my friend." 
 
She touched Tim's face again.  "He's very good at what he does." 
 
"I'll always be grateful for that."  His eyes watched her hand as it 
stroked her son's cheek comfortingly, but of them avoiding the tubes 
and needles and bandages as thought they weren't even there. 
 
"His partner has been here almost the whole time," she said, raising 
her voice a little as the subject came back to safer territory.  "His 
wife finally made him go get something to eat.  We spoke at length 
about his children; he loves his family a great deal." 
 
"I'm afraid I don't know Detective Pembleton very well." 
 
She nodded without looking at him.  "It's good that Timmy has someone 
who cares about him, too." 
 
His breath caught for a moment, then he finally gave in to the 
unrelenting urge to touch.  He took Bayliss' free hand into his own 
and stroked the back of it with his thumb.   
 
"He's a very easy person to care about." 
 
"Take care of my little boy," she whispered, her voice barely 
audible. 
 
Their eyes never met again as they sat vigil over the unconscious 
man, but that was okay.  They both understood. 
 
--end--