The Ties That Bind

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Maxim only nodded for Madeline at first, watching Yarrow walk out, and after a pause relaxed back against the chair again, keeping his badge in hand so he wouldn't have to struggle to get it again. "Your leg should stay straight," he said rather than insist directly that she was wrong. He was being a hypocrite, he was aware, but at least he wasn't at risk of bleeding again, just pain. When he could, he offered her a small smile. "I may take you up on a trade later."

If it had been any others in his pack he would just have crawled into the bed with them, but even with an ache in his chest at any distance put between them he knew it wasn't something Madeline would appreciate. She was his still, but she needed to be treated differently.

It was ten long minutes before agent Yarrow returned, with a reluctant doctor and nurse in tow. Maxim only huffed when he was presented with a wheelchair while the doctor passed to be sure Madeline was all right to move, giving a little roll of his eyes but a reluctant sigh at the same time.

"Yeah, all right." He grumbled rather than protest and make everything take longer, and obediently let the nurse assist him in moving from one chair to the other. He supposed not having to walk the distance was worth the mild indignity.
 
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She still thought he should be lying down, but she wasn't going to push it, she recognised the stubborn desire to remain in control and independent, considering she did it all the time.


"Alright." She said softly, hoping he would, he really looked like he needed it. She looked down at the bed while they were waiting, before looking up at him again. She wanted to tell him he could just share the bed with her, but she felt a little hesitant, worried it might be awkward or that he might be uncomfortable if there wasn't enough room.


As they entered the room where Doc was recovering, she looked over at him with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She'd known he wasn't going to make it, knew it the moment she saw him in the back of the ambulance, but whatever little piece of hope or denial that she was holding onto disappeared seeing him.


He lay in the bed with his eyes closed, his face was far too pale, and he was covered in bandages. He was hooked up to an iv of morphine, making it clear they were trying to keep him comfortable but not much more. This once great, powerful man, reduced to this sad, broken thing. There was a sense, an air about him, that he wasn't long for this world.
 
It was a slow, painful ride, not because of his injuries but because he knew what lay ahead of them. Doc didn't look good, and his actual prognosis was even worse. All that they were going to be able to accomplish was watching and waiting for it all to be over. If they were lucky, she would get to say goodbye, and if they weren't they would only be keeping him company in his last moments.

Maxim instructed the nurse to just leave him, that he would have someone notified if he needed to leave - as if he had no intention of standing on his own - and once he was sure that his assumptions around Doc's health were correct he sent the doctor and nurse away with his thanks. With Yarrow guarding the entrance out of sight, they were left to wait.

". . . I'm sorry, Maddie." Maxim said softly after the room had fallen silent but for the sound of heart monitors and quiet breathing. It was too early, too soon to confirm what she probably already believed, but he couldn't just sit and say nothing. "I'm sorry there wasn't more we could do for him."

He wanted to tell himself he could have been faster, could've driven faster, done something. But it didn't matter. By the time they'd gotten that phone call, it had already been too late.
 
Her gaze never left his face, waiting for any sort of movement, at least he seemed to be at peace for the moment, free from pain anyway. She desperately wanted him to wake up, so she could say her goodbyes, but at the same time she almost wished he'd stay asleep. As if that would delay everything, and let him live a little longer. She didn't know what she was supposed to do once he was gone, how was she supposed to carry on? Maxim had told the nurse that she was his last living family, and that wasn't really a lie.

As far she knew, she had no extended family, and her father, if she could even call him that, she had no idea where he was now, and she intended to keep it that way. So with her mother and brother gone, Doc was all she had left, he'd been the father she'd never had, loving, supportive, safe... all the things she'd so desperately needed when she'd come to this city. As for Doc, she knew she'd filled a similar void in his life, the loss of his wife and child, his pack, his family... with no one to care for he had been lost, purposeless, alone. They had been there for each other, to support each other in their grief, to make each other laugh, to stop each other from being so alone.

She shook her head a little, closing her eyes. "It's my fault." She said softly, her voice unsteady as her tight control on her emotions was beginning to waver. "All my fault.... again." She repeated softly, seemingly talking to herself as she lowered her head and folded her arms across her chest as if trying to comfort herself, she would have hugged her knees to her chest, if it wouldn't have hurt her leg so much.
 
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"Stop."

It was out before Maxim could hold it back, his tone stern but not unkind, his expression gentle when he looked at her. "Maddie. Don't start down that path. You are not responsible for the crimes someone else committed. And you're not responsible for the sick bastard with a vendetta against you."

She couldn't be allowed to think that way. Every step she took in that direction was to a place he knew could swallow a person whole and never let them out. He'd seen it before, in people less resilient than her and in those the world liked to think of as stronger. She could see it herself, the way the man she was already mourning had been punishing himself for years and years over something Maxim was sure he'd had little control over, if any at all. She could fight with him if she wanted to, but he wouldn't just sit back and let it happen to her, too.
 
She glanced up at him, a little surprised by his sudden outburst. "If I hadn't of let myself get involved with Alex, with Farkas, then none of this would have happened." She refuted quietly, she wasn't arguing with him, nor seeking to be proven wrong, she was simply stating how she saw it, how she felt. "If I hadn't of hidden away from Farkas like a coward, if I'd never met Doc in the first place, he would be fine right now." Even as the words left her mouth, she knew that wasn't true, he might be alive, but she doubted he'd be fine. Still, it was obvious that she blamed herself for all this, rightly or wrongly, she couldn't see beyond the things she could have, should have, done differently.

"People always say it's not my fault, that things happen, and you can't change them." "But... I keep losing people." She said softly, deep pain in her voice as she closed her eyes tightly, trying to stop herself from crying. "I always wind up alone." "And... maybe i deserve to be."
 
Blow after blow after blow. Madeline had been handed a poor lot in life, over and over again. How many times had he heard it, with different words but the same broken feelings? My fault. If I hadn't. If only. There was little that someone could do to such entrenched feelings, not without a great deal of time. In the next few minutes, or hours, or days, he could only reassure her again and again, and hope that at least one of them would stick.

It wasn't an incredibly intelligent idea, he knew, but he couldn't just sit and let it happen. As she went on he used his good arm to help push himself to his feet, clenching his jaw against any sort of sound that wanted to come out, and walked the few feet between them to stand at her bedside. With a gentle touch, he reached for her hand and held it in his, thumb running lightly over her skin.

"It isn't fair," he said softly. "It isn't. I'm sorry, Maddie, that life's been so unkind to you. But what happened here isn't your doing. He loves you. You know that. He would never blame you. And if he had to hurt to protect you, I know he would do it again."

He knew because it was what he would do. For her. For any of his pack. Doc's heart was still that of an alpha, no matter how many pack or family he had lost, and Maxim had seen in his eyes just how much he cared for her. He would have done anything to try and secure her safety for as long as possible, refusing to give over any information about her whereabouts. If Madeline hadn't wanted to call, Alex would never have known which number to reach her at, and they would never have found Doc at all.

"No matter what happens," he pressed on, fingers curling tighter around hers, "I promise you. You won't be alone."

He would make sure of it.
 
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She didn't open her eyes, but when he took her hand, she let out a soft sigh and held it back, seeming to draw comfort from his touch. She wanted to believe him, and most of her did because she knew it was true. Doc did love her, and he was a good, honourable man, she knew he would never blame her for what happened to him, but that almost made it worse somehow. It was like with her brother, he had said the exact same things, and she knew that if Doc woke up, he'd say the same, but... they didn't change anything. No matter what they said, they were gone, if they hadn't been trying to help her, they'd still be here, but they were dead, and she just carried on, it wasn't fair.

You won't be alone... His words filled her with hope and dread, comfort and unease, because what if? What if she let herself get close to him, and then one day, he just decided he was done with her? What if he got hurt? Worse than he already had? Wound up like Flynn and Doc? She didn't think her heart could take it, not again. She'd never meant to get close to Doc, she'd been too afraid of this exact scenario, and yet, she had. Much the way Maxim had done, he had patiently hung around, slowly breaking down her carefully constructed defences without her even realising until she couldn't bear to lose him. She had known better, but she still let herself think things would be different. She didn't know if she could bear to risk that again, it was too hard.

And yet, despite all the shit she'd been through, all the pain, she didn't want to be alone. She didn't want to live out the rest of her life with no-one, no home to come back to, no place to belong. It was that part of herself, bruised and battered, but still there, that made her open her eyes, and turn her head to look at him. "You... you shouldn't be on your feet." She said softly, she could tell he was in pain, and it only added to her fears and her guilt. "You should lie down." After a brief hesitation, she shifted over a little, making room for him in the bed, but she never let go of his hand. She didn't look at him, feeling far too vulnerable, but it was clear what she was offering him, what she was asking for.
 
She didn't respond, but the fact that she wasn't continuing to fight him was going to have to be good enough. He would have stood there at her bedside, holding her hand, for however long he thought it would take, with no complaint despite the way the pain grew sharper if he stood. Taking care of her was more important than being comfortable, and in an attempt to distract her he was moments from telling her the floor didn't look that comfortable yet and she should ask him again in an hour before she started to move carefully away from him.

At first he only opened his mouth a bit as if to speak, then closed it again and blinked at her in not some small amount of surprise. There were a great deal of conflicting feelings in the short silence that fell between them, the wolf in him all but screaming at the need to be as close to her as possible, as quickly as possible, and the more rational side that was used to ignoring it telling him he should ask if she was sure. Eventually, with the worrisome thought in mind that if he asked for clarification she would clam up again and take back the very clear invitation before him, he shut his mouth more firmly and just gave her hand another squeeze before letting go. He moved carefully, needing that hand to help him in first sitting very carefully on the edge of her hospital bed and then maneuvering until he was lying on his side next to her, both because there wasn't really room for the both of them to lie flat and because most of his damaged ribs were on his left and laying on his right was the only way to breathe without horrible pain.

Carefully, a bit hesitantly still, he rested just his left hand against her side, arm fractured, splinted and in a sling but fingers largely intact, both in an offer to let her hold it and because he had to rest it somewhere or he was going to hurt himself. If she wanted his 'good' hand, which still had at least a finger splint, she would have to retrieve it from where he'd rested it half under his chin. It was not a comfortable process, and he was still hurting when he settled, but it was an improvement from the chair, and when he could stop moving he did finally give a very soft sigh.

"Thanks," he murmured softly, and let her assume it was just because he was more comfortable now and not because it soothed the ache in his chest that demanded he be close to her, reassured the part of him that worried she still wouldn't trust him. "If I nod off, just give me a little shake, all right?" He had a concussion, but he was allowed to sleep as long as it wasn't for too long at a time. If Doc so much as twitched, he wanted to be awake in case anything happened. He wanted to be there for her.
 
At first, his silence caused a sinking feeling of embarrassment in the pit of her stomach, making her feel like a fool and deeply regretting her actions. Had she misunderstood? The time he'd comforted her after her nightmare and given her his bed, his words and reassurances, the way he'd held her in the ambulance, the way he held her hand now, perhaps that was just him being kind, and he only thought of her as a professional burden, not as a friend, and the psychical comfort he'd talked about before was just for his wolves, his pack. Thankfully, before she could start stressing over it too much, he squeezed her hand and started to lie down beside her.

She shifted over as far as the bed would allow, trying to give him as much room as possible. She winced a little as she watched him laboriously lie down and try to get comfortable, the pain and discomfort clear in his expression. She hoped she hadn't made him feel like he had to lie down, she thought it would be better for him, but seeing how much effort it was for him, she wondered. When he rested his hand beside her, she hesitated for a brief moment, then laid her hand gently over his, being extremely careful of his injuries. "I will." She confirmed with a soft nod, despite everything that was happening, and feeling a little awkward with him being so close, his presence was reassuring, somewhat soothing. It eased some of the tension she was feeling, enough so that she could lean her head back and close her eyes for a while.
 
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Moving hurt, and no position was going to be comfortable even to lie in for a while, but with Madeline there in front of him, close enough to feel her warmth, he could finally relax. There was so much going on, so much he wanted to be there for, that he knew he shouldn't sleep, and for a while he did his best to stay awake, wiggling his fingers gently until he could hold on to one of hers. The room was quiet, activity always moving outside but with the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor in the background and the quiet sound of Madeline breathing beside him. He wasn't going to make it.

"I'll be right here," he murmured softly, even as sleep pulled at him harder and harder, urging his eyes to fully close. "Not goin' anywhere." For every moment that she needed him, he would be with her. All she had to do was say his name and wake him. He would probably hurt himself trying to get up, but it was a small price to pay.
 
Maxims presence, the feel of his warmth, the steady sound of his heartbeat, his comforting words, all of it helped to ease the tension she was feeling, and despite her fears, it made her wish she'd accepted his offer of comfort sooner, having him beside her, it made her feel… safe. Despite everything that was happening, and everything she was feeling, the way he shifted his hand so he could hold onto hers, and his promise to stay by her side, managed to bring a soft smile to her lips.

She watched him for a while as he fell asleep, he seemed so peaceful, it made her long to join him. She couldn't though, not until… until this was all over. She couldn't risk missing Doc, she had to speak with him, to hear his voice one last time.

A few hours later, when Maxim awoke, he would find himself alone in the bed. Once Doc had begun to stir, she had carefully, quietly, slipped out of the bed and hobbled the few steps to the wheelchair. Given that the few painkillers she'd taken had worn off hours ago, the pain had been incredible, but she hadn't let that stop her, gritting her teeth to keep from crying out and all but collapsing into the chair. She'd pay for it later, but at that moment, later wasn't something she gave a damn about. She'd wheeled herself to Doc's bedside, reaching out to take his hand while she waited for him to wake.

They had spoken in soft voices so as not to wake Maxim, both because they thought he needed and deserved his rest, and because they wanted his last moments, his last words, to just be for them. They had talked for a long time, telling each other everything they needed to know, but there were no more voices now. Instead, there was only the soft sound of Maddie crying, her face hidden in her hand, the other still holding Doc's hand on top of the blanket.

She'd managed to keep it together while they talked, for the most part anyway, and she'd taken the time to close his eyes and smooth back his hair, making him look respectable, at peace. After that, she'd simply begun to weep, her pain, her grief, her sheer exhaustion, the weight of everything, it had caused the dam to burst, and she just couldn't hold it together anymore.
 
As much as he wanted to stay awake and be there for her, Maxim couldn't fight the pull of sleep. His body needed rest, to heal, and with Madeline relatively safe beside him it was easy to drift off. Quiet voices made him stir but not fully wake, until the moment the heart monitor's steady beep summoned a doctor from outside the room. Groggy and shoving down on a brief panic to find the bed empty beside him, Maxim moved a bit too quickly and had to stand still, leaning on the bed, after getting to his feet, grinding his teeth down against the pain as his eyes found Madeline in the room.

Quietly, the doctor came and checked machines, silencing the noise and checking for a pulse manually. After a moment, he gave a soft, regretful sign. "I'm very sorry, ma'am," he said gently. "I'm going to have to call it. 3:27 pm. . . He fought his hardest. The damage was just too much."

There would have been no point trying to revive him, no panicked response when his heart finally stopped. All they could have done was make him comfortable.

The moment he could, Maxim moved around the bed, walking slowly both for his injuries and to keep from startling Madeline as he came to her side. Reprimands about how she had moved unassisted could come later. Now, he only reached for her, threading his fingers through her hair and pulling her gently to his chest, bending slightly down to her despite the way it hurt.

"I'm sorry, Maddie," he said gently, swallowing down the sorrow he could feel from her. "I'm sorry. Come with me. Let's get you back to your room."

She didn't need to stay here, not now that the end had come. He would see to how Doc's body would be taken care of later on, after she'd had time to grieve. If she hadn't been so hurt, he would have taken her home where he could truly care for her, broken bones be damned. The least he could do now was to take her away.
 
She paid no notice to the doctor who came in to perform the final checks and declare Doc's passing, she didn't need him to tell her he was gone, she'd held his hand as he took his last breath. He'd signed a DNR, so there was nothing to be done about his passing, no dramatics, he had simply passed on.

As Maxim moved to her side, she didn't even look at him at first, but when he gently pulled her towards him, she didn't resist. Burying her face in his chest, she just let herself weep, there was no stopping it even if she tried. She was shaking slightly, her injured, grief stricken body in desperate need of rest.

She nodded against his chest when he told her to come with him, she wanted nothing more than to just go back home, to get out of this place that did nothing but cause her pain and crawl into her bed and pretend all this hadn't happened. For now, though, she'd have to settle for a different room.

"He's gone." She said softly, sounding utterly devastated and somehow lost, like by saying it out loud she was trying to make sense of it, like it hadn't fully sunk in. "My dads dead..."
 
It wasn't fair. The world had taken too much from her, and it killed him inside but Maxim knew there was nothing he could do but be with her. Nothing but time was going to make the loss of someone she loved any easier.

"I know," he said softly, fingers curling loosely in her hair as he held her close to him, wishing he had the ability in the moment to just drop to his knees and gather her in his arms, to take her somewhere safe. "I know. It hurts. It's gonna hurt. I'm so sorry. . . I'm right here. I won't go anywhere."

Even if he had to hobble his way back to their hospital room just to keep holding on to her as she was eventually wheeled back, he wasn't going to leave her side for anything. When she could, he had Yarrow come in and help the nurses get her back up on her bed where her leg could lay straight and her body relax, to ease a bit of her pain. When he got her back to the room, Maxim was going to be sure to get her the pain medicine she needed, and no matter how uncomfortable it might be he was going to crawl back into that bed with her and hold her close. He couldn't not.
 
She fell silent, soft tears continuing to fall as she just nodded. Though she'd usually feel uncomfortable having to be helped up and into the bed, right now she could care less, she was too emotionally drained. Besides, her leg was absolutely killing her and she knew that if she tried to do it herself she'd only embarrass herself further.

Once she was on the bed, she laid on her side and shut her eyes, just wanting, needing to be done with all this, to not worry about what was next, to stop forcing herself to shove her emotions away and just take a moment to let her grief overwhelm her, if only for a little while.

A doctor was waiting for them in her room, ready to give her some pain meds and a sedative so she could sleep. They would need to ask her about the man's wishes for his remains, but for now, they knew that she needed to rest, there would be time later for all the details.
 
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The quiet was almost more painful than crying. Maxim stayed near as much as he could, going so far as to get out of the wheelchair a nurse insisted he use so that they wouldn't have to take separate elevator trips and simply hobbling the rest of the distance to her room, with some mild assistance from agent Yarrow. When they reached the room, he went to Madeline's side again, stroking a hand gently over her hair and telling her what the doctor was giving her. He was sure she wouldn't fight.

When it was done, Maxim thanked the staff and sent them away, and the moment they were gone went through the process of very carefully getting himself back on the bed, without being asked. With Madeline on her side, it was easiest to keep her injuries from touching him, and for him to simply face his away from her, staying as far to one side of the bed as he could so she would have enough room. It gave him the space, finally, to put his arm around her and draw her into his shoulder, holding her close as best he could and going so far as to tip his chin down and nuzzle gently into her hair.

"I'm here," he murmured softly. "It's all right to cry. I'll be right here, even if you fall asleep." He wouldn't leave her. It was the only reassurance he could give her, the only thing he had control over. No matter how long it took, he would be there when she woke.
 
Besides a slight wince of pain, she gave no response to his words, nor the doctors poking and prodding her. She didn't care, it didn't matter, nothing mattered to her right now. She was so still and quiet, it was easy to assume she was already unconscious, save for the obvious tension of her body and the soft tears that still fell from her closed eyes. Still, his soft voice, and the way he gently stroked her hair, it did seem to soothe her a little, as she drew comfort from his presence.

As he carefully settled down beside her in the bed again, and drew her close, she shifted closer, carefully laying her arm over his chest, low enough to avoid putting any pressure on his ribs. Her earlier hesitation and uncomfortableness at such an intimate act was gone, right now she didn't care about her fear of getting close, or her need to keep her distance. The weight of his arm around her, his warmth, the soft sound of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, they provided a comfort she desperately needed, a sense of safety to keep her sheltered, to stop her from being swept away in the chaotic sea of her grief.

"I wish this was a dream." She murmured back softly, already the sedative was taking effect, leaving her voice sounding fogged with sleep. "One long, horrible dream." "Then I could just wake up, and he'd still be here..." "They could all be here t...." She trailed off as her body finally relaxed against him, a combination of exhaustion, the medication and Maxims comforting presence had let her finally drift off.
 
Maxim was quiet, murmuring soft reassurances but nothing loud enough to stir her awake, hand running gently up and down her arm until he felt more than heard her drift off to sleep. For a while he laid awake, thinking of all that needed to be done, and doing his best for now not to think of the people that had been the cause of so much pain. If he dwelled on it too long now he would only be angry with nowhere for the rage to go, and he needed to stay calm and present for her.

While Madeline slept he borrowed Yarrow's phone to make a call home, very quietly and calmly explaining to Oscar what had happened so he could relay it to the others and let them know he and Madeline would be okay, given they would be out of contact with his phone out of commission. For a while he slept, waking only when there were very quiet visitors. Oscar brought new clothes and helped him change, leaving some behind for Madeline as well. Simon came and dropped off flowers and Hoppy, as the only other person who could be trusted to be calm and not cause commotion, before they both retreated to the hotel lobby to be out of the way.

By the time Madeline woke, Maxim was sleeping at her side again with his arm curled around her and his cheek resting lightly against her head. It was against protocol, he was sure, to have two people in one bed, but there was nothing that could have stopped him. He stirred only when she did.

"Awake?" He murmured softly, biting down on the urge to press a kiss to her hair in hopes that she would let him stay if he didn't push too far. "I'm here, don't worry. You can rest."
 
Her sleep was mercifully peaceful, the nightmares would surely come later, but for now her slumber was deep and dreamless, letting her get the rest she so desperately needed. She seemed to stir and tense a little when Maxim left her side, but the soft voices in the room soothed her, lulling her deeper into sleep rather than waking her, and she relaxed almost immediately once he rejoined her. Aside from Doc, she hadn't let anyone else close enough to her in a long time, so she was a little touch starved, having deprived herself of this basic human comfort.

When she awoke sometime later, it was rather reluctantly. When she was asleep she could retreat into oblivion, where she didn't have to face any of the pain, grief, difficult decisions and harsh reality she knew was waiting for her when she woke up. "I am." She answered him softly, she still sounded heartbroken, understandably, but her voice was a little more steady, like she was getting herself under control again, or perhaps she was simply burying it all again, withdrawing from it all. Whatever the reason, she seemed to be in no hurry to move away from him, still relaxed in his arm. "How long have I been asleep?"