Author: FraidyCat
Genre: Humor, Oneshot
Time line: Right About Now
Summary: Just read it; won't take long.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em – but wanna cuddle 'em.
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Charlie, huddled in the hard plastic chair, looked up miserably when he heard her say his name.
Yep. He was right. It was her. Best to try to distract her. "Hey, Megan. What are you doing here? Are you all right?"
She sat down beside him, noting the towel wrapped around his left arm. "I'm fine, Charlie, what happened to you?"
Ignore it. Ignore it, and it will go away. "If you're fine, why are you in the ER in the middle of a Saturday night?"
"I gave my neighbor a ride. She gets these terrible migraines, sometimes she needs to come in and get a shot, it gets so bad. She's back in an exam room, I'm just waiting. Poor thing."
Charlie nodded. "Migraines can be bad. I've made the ER trip a few times for that myself."
Megan looked surprised. "Really? Don never mentioned that…"
Charlie looked at the floor. "I don't think he knows. It started when I was at Princeton, and then he was in Albuquerque…it hasn't happened in a long time, anyway."
"So why are you here? You still haven't answered me."
Charlie sighed, looked at her with his best puppy eyes. "You can't tell Don." He thought a moment. "Or Dad." He thought another moment. "Or Larry."
"Why not?"
"Larry can't keep a secret. If he finds out, Don and Dad will find out."
"And that's a problem because…"
"Because they already treat me like I'm something that can't be left out in the rain. They're convinced I can't take care of myself. If they find out I had an accident that landed me in the ER the first night Dad was gone to Aunt Ida's, they'll never let up."
Megan nodded. "That's right, Don said that your Dad was going to help his sister out for a few days. So how did you get here? And what happened?"
"I took a cab."
"Charlie! You should have called Don, or even me. I could have given you a group rate."
Charlie smiled briefly, then winced as he rearranged the towel on his arm.
"How long have you been waiting?"
"Almost an hour. It's not that serious. Just a few stitches, maybe."
Megan was getting impatient. This was worse than talking to a witness. "CHARLIE. WHAT HAPPENED?"
He'd have to tell her. She wasn't going to let him not tell her. "I tripped. I was bringing some work down to the kitchen from my room, and the phone rang. I…" He looked at her sheepishly. "I may have been running, a bit. Anyway, the phone startled me, and I missed the last two steps. I fell."
"Sounds painful. But why do you need stitches for that?"
"I…I was going to cut out strips of paper, for an experiment."
Megan started laughing. "Let me get this straight. You were running with scissors? Down stairs?"
"Eppes?" Someone with a file leaned over Charlie, lifted the towel and looked under it. "Oh, yeah, pretty deep scratch, delineating out from a small puncture wound." The man straightened, smiled. "Great. I've got an intern needs some practice on his stitchwork. We'll throw in a tetanus shot, too. Come with me, please."
Charlie paled, and Megan remembered his dislike of needles. Maybe he was being punished enough. Maybe not. "You take your time, enjoy yourself. I'll wait for you, give you a ride home. Unless you'd like me to call Don for you?"
Charlie stood shakily, thinking about the shot. Megan lightly touched his arm.
"Tell me one more thing?"
He looked at her. What further humiliation awaited him?
She pointed. "What happened to your shoes?"
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