Backdated to Monday
ooc: after This, this, this, this, this, and before this.
When the news breaks about the explosion, the clinic sends out their own team to help on site. Harry is among them because he took the class to become certified as a first responder for emergencies. This is his first time actually putting into practice what he learned in theory. Nick rides with him and the drive is mostly made in silence. This isn't Nick's first emergency situation of this size, but there isn't anything he can really say to prepare Harry for what they're going to be walking into.
It's the smell of burnt flesh that Harry will remember for weeks. There is just something about that stench that leaves a lasting impression. Even more so than the coppery tangy scent of blood. There is too much blood, too much burned flesh, and too many injured and dead. This is a disaster, and Harry doesn't have time to really process any of it. He's been trained to focus on the person he's working on, and not take in the rest of the injured around him. One at a time, get it done as quickly as possible, and then move on to the next. Their job is simple enough, stabilize those they can until they can be transported to Gotham MCU.
He's on his third victim when a paparazzi photographer gets close enough to call out to him. "Mr. Osborn. Hey, Mr. Osborn, aren't you going to the hospital with your wife and kid?"
Time stands still. Harry's in the middle of bandaging up a four year old with a gash on her knee and minor burns on her arms when the words register to him. He looks up, stares at the photographer and asks, "What?"
"You don't know? Mrs. Osborn and your daughter were inside. Ambulance took them out of here about twenty minutes ago." And this is where the photographer gets his money shot. It's the picture that will be run in all the big magazines and newspapers. It's the picture that speaks more than a thousand words. Harry Osborn, elbow deep in trying to help the wounded, has a look of shock on his face, complete with eyes wide and mouth parted just a bit as if the words he needs to say somehow got caught in his throat.
"Harry, go. I got this." Nick takes over with bandaging the child, but Harry doesn't move. He's still paralyzed by shock. He'll look back later and think it was precious minutes that he lost when in reality it was only seconds. It just felt like an eternity because it's too personal now. It's easy to treat the wounded when you don't know them, and a completely different situation when it's your family. "Harry, go to the hospital. We have this under control." Nick's tone is gentle and firm at the same time. Harry blinks and then nods his head. The camera is still firing off shots, and Harry is too dazed to think to grab the camera from the photographer and destroy it.
It's when he pushes his way through the crowd of press that stands between him and his car that he realizes getting to the hospital is easier said than done. His car is surrounded by the paps who haven't realized one of their own already scored the money shot. "Mr. Osborn?"
He turns and looks over at the pretty redhead. Vicki. Vicki Vale. "Yeah?"
"I can get you to the hospital. Let's go." He follows without asking how she knows he needs to go to the hospital. If anything, it's safer if she's driving. He's stopped traffic for four hours over a mocha. He'd probably end up in a hospital bed next to his wife if he was allowed to drive now. Vicki gets them to her car, and she drives to the hospital at speeds that are well above the legal limit, yet still feels too slow to Harry Osborn.
His phone is going off. There's one call after another, one text after another, and the only one he answers is the one he recognizes as the hospital's phone number. "Hello. Yes, I'm on my way. Is my wife and daughter okay? Yes. My wife's pregnant. Is the baby okay?" The person on the other end of the phone can't give him all the details, but they assure him he'll be caught up to speed as soon as he reaches the hospital. He hangs up and stares out the window and realizes he can still only smell burnt flesh and blood. The scent lingers.
Harry has time to call Angel. Angel can't do anything until the sun goes down. He assures Harry he will make the calls to Alan and Natalie. He'll try and get in touch with Cordy. He can handle the phone calls. It's just that sun that keeps him from rushing to his daughter and granddaughter's side.
Vicki drops him off at the back of the hospital so he can quickly make his way to the emergency room. The hospital is busy. More wounded are being brought in every few minutes, and the staff is doing their best to accommodate everyone. They're trying to sort out who is critical and who can wait another minute or two before they can be looked at. Harry's ushered into a private room where a doctor informs him that his wife and daughter are being treated.
"She's pregnant. My wife is pregnant." The look that crosses the doctor's face makes Harry want to hit his knees and pray for his family. Make them be okay. Don't let us lose this baby. Don't let us lose Addie. Don't let me lose Kara. I can't do this without my girls. It's the mantra that keeps circling in his head as he waits in the private waiting room for news. There are other victim's family members being ushered in, protected from the probing questions of the press. No one really says anything. They're all lost in their own personal trauma and potential losses.
He's there when one man is informed his wife didn't make it. Harry doesn't know what to say. What to do. It's not Kara, but it could be. It could be the baby. It could be Addie. The waiting is the hardest part. Having to sit and wait to be informed on the condition of your family while you yourself are fine is the hardest part. He wonders, for a moment, if this is how his father felt when Emily was dying. If this was how Norman felt during those drug overdoses and suicide attempts of Harry's youth. Norman was always fine, but his family were fragile. Time is fragile. Life is fragile.
He prays. Harry prays that God will save his wife and children. He'll do anything God wants, but don't take them. He's lost Connor. He's lost his mother. Don't take his wife and children too.
The doctor comes in to inform him that his daughter will be okay. Addie has suffered some hearing loss in one of her ears, but she will be okay. There are a couple broken bones, but she will be okay. Addie wants her mommy. She's screaming for her mommy, but maybe her daddy will help to soothe her. Harry isn't sure that is the case, but he's relieved to be escorted to the room that Addie is in. The little miss looks so small, so little, like the little tiny baby that her mother always calls her. She's crying. When she sees her father, she wails. He's at her side immediately. Brushing back all that blonde hair, her mother's hair, and whispering promises that things will be alright. "It will be alright, Princess. Everything is going to be alright. I love you. It's going to be alright."
She screams for her mother, and Harry wishes he could scream for Kara too. He's told Kara has been moved to a private room so they can work on her. The emergency room is too full, and of course Kara Osborn gets a private room. Security has been assigned. Norman Osborn is concerned about the safety of his family. Harry would laugh at that if not for the fact he has a wailing toddler in his arms, and a pregnant wife in critical condition in another room at the hospital.
"Harry."
He looks up to see Oliver at the door with Chloe. Waving them in, security stands aside to let them by. "How's Kara?" Chloe looks worried. Oliver looks stoic and maybe angry. It's hard to tell with Ollie.
"Critical condition, and they're working on it. They...I keep asking if the baby is okay, but they can't give me any answers."
"Can I see her?" Chloe asks, and Harry looks torn.
"It's supposed to be family only, but I can't leave Addie. They didn't say Kara was up to visitors yet."
Chloe gives Oliver a look that Harry can't read. He doesn't know her that well. Ollie, well Ollie he knows. So when Oliver places a hand on his shoulder while reaching over with his other hand to stroke Addie's hair in an attempt to soothe her, Harry takes his request seriously. "Harry, trust me, let Chloe in to check on Kara. You can't be everywhere at once, and they're friends."
He doesn't know about Chloe's ability, but Ollie does and Ollie knows that Chloe just needs a few minutes with Kara Osborn and her baby to make things right. If anyone can stabilize the baby it will be Chloe. "Okay." He informs security that Chloe is to be let in. Ollie escorts her out and promises to check in soon. Harry is already back to paying attention to Addie. Because there isn't anything he can do for his wife, not that he is aware of anyway, but Addie he can help. Addie he can soothe with promises and kisses and hugs. Addie he can assure that everything will be okay.
And maybe if he says it enough times he'll eventually believe it himself.
When the news breaks about the explosion, the clinic sends out their own team to help on site. Harry is among them because he took the class to become certified as a first responder for emergencies. This is his first time actually putting into practice what he learned in theory. Nick rides with him and the drive is mostly made in silence. This isn't Nick's first emergency situation of this size, but there isn't anything he can really say to prepare Harry for what they're going to be walking into.
It's the smell of burnt flesh that Harry will remember for weeks. There is just something about that stench that leaves a lasting impression. Even more so than the coppery tangy scent of blood. There is too much blood, too much burned flesh, and too many injured and dead. This is a disaster, and Harry doesn't have time to really process any of it. He's been trained to focus on the person he's working on, and not take in the rest of the injured around him. One at a time, get it done as quickly as possible, and then move on to the next. Their job is simple enough, stabilize those they can until they can be transported to Gotham MCU.
He's on his third victim when a paparazzi photographer gets close enough to call out to him. "Mr. Osborn. Hey, Mr. Osborn, aren't you going to the hospital with your wife and kid?"
Time stands still. Harry's in the middle of bandaging up a four year old with a gash on her knee and minor burns on her arms when the words register to him. He looks up, stares at the photographer and asks, "What?"
"You don't know? Mrs. Osborn and your daughter were inside. Ambulance took them out of here about twenty minutes ago." And this is where the photographer gets his money shot. It's the picture that will be run in all the big magazines and newspapers. It's the picture that speaks more than a thousand words. Harry Osborn, elbow deep in trying to help the wounded, has a look of shock on his face, complete with eyes wide and mouth parted just a bit as if the words he needs to say somehow got caught in his throat.
"Harry, go. I got this." Nick takes over with bandaging the child, but Harry doesn't move. He's still paralyzed by shock. He'll look back later and think it was precious minutes that he lost when in reality it was only seconds. It just felt like an eternity because it's too personal now. It's easy to treat the wounded when you don't know them, and a completely different situation when it's your family. "Harry, go to the hospital. We have this under control." Nick's tone is gentle and firm at the same time. Harry blinks and then nods his head. The camera is still firing off shots, and Harry is too dazed to think to grab the camera from the photographer and destroy it.
It's when he pushes his way through the crowd of press that stands between him and his car that he realizes getting to the hospital is easier said than done. His car is surrounded by the paps who haven't realized one of their own already scored the money shot. "Mr. Osborn?"
He turns and looks over at the pretty redhead. Vicki. Vicki Vale. "Yeah?"
"I can get you to the hospital. Let's go." He follows without asking how she knows he needs to go to the hospital. If anything, it's safer if she's driving. He's stopped traffic for four hours over a mocha. He'd probably end up in a hospital bed next to his wife if he was allowed to drive now. Vicki gets them to her car, and she drives to the hospital at speeds that are well above the legal limit, yet still feels too slow to Harry Osborn.
His phone is going off. There's one call after another, one text after another, and the only one he answers is the one he recognizes as the hospital's phone number. "Hello. Yes, I'm on my way. Is my wife and daughter okay? Yes. My wife's pregnant. Is the baby okay?" The person on the other end of the phone can't give him all the details, but they assure him he'll be caught up to speed as soon as he reaches the hospital. He hangs up and stares out the window and realizes he can still only smell burnt flesh and blood. The scent lingers.
Harry has time to call Angel. Angel can't do anything until the sun goes down. He assures Harry he will make the calls to Alan and Natalie. He'll try and get in touch with Cordy. He can handle the phone calls. It's just that sun that keeps him from rushing to his daughter and granddaughter's side.
Vicki drops him off at the back of the hospital so he can quickly make his way to the emergency room. The hospital is busy. More wounded are being brought in every few minutes, and the staff is doing their best to accommodate everyone. They're trying to sort out who is critical and who can wait another minute or two before they can be looked at. Harry's ushered into a private room where a doctor informs him that his wife and daughter are being treated.
"She's pregnant. My wife is pregnant." The look that crosses the doctor's face makes Harry want to hit his knees and pray for his family. Make them be okay. Don't let us lose this baby. Don't let us lose Addie. Don't let me lose Kara. I can't do this without my girls. It's the mantra that keeps circling in his head as he waits in the private waiting room for news. There are other victim's family members being ushered in, protected from the probing questions of the press. No one really says anything. They're all lost in their own personal trauma and potential losses.
He's there when one man is informed his wife didn't make it. Harry doesn't know what to say. What to do. It's not Kara, but it could be. It could be the baby. It could be Addie. The waiting is the hardest part. Having to sit and wait to be informed on the condition of your family while you yourself are fine is the hardest part. He wonders, for a moment, if this is how his father felt when Emily was dying. If this was how Norman felt during those drug overdoses and suicide attempts of Harry's youth. Norman was always fine, but his family were fragile. Time is fragile. Life is fragile.
He prays. Harry prays that God will save his wife and children. He'll do anything God wants, but don't take them. He's lost Connor. He's lost his mother. Don't take his wife and children too.
The doctor comes in to inform him that his daughter will be okay. Addie has suffered some hearing loss in one of her ears, but she will be okay. There are a couple broken bones, but she will be okay. Addie wants her mommy. She's screaming for her mommy, but maybe her daddy will help to soothe her. Harry isn't sure that is the case, but he's relieved to be escorted to the room that Addie is in. The little miss looks so small, so little, like the little tiny baby that her mother always calls her. She's crying. When she sees her father, she wails. He's at her side immediately. Brushing back all that blonde hair, her mother's hair, and whispering promises that things will be alright. "It will be alright, Princess. Everything is going to be alright. I love you. It's going to be alright."
She screams for her mother, and Harry wishes he could scream for Kara too. He's told Kara has been moved to a private room so they can work on her. The emergency room is too full, and of course Kara Osborn gets a private room. Security has been assigned. Norman Osborn is concerned about the safety of his family. Harry would laugh at that if not for the fact he has a wailing toddler in his arms, and a pregnant wife in critical condition in another room at the hospital.
"Harry."
He looks up to see Oliver at the door with Chloe. Waving them in, security stands aside to let them by. "How's Kara?" Chloe looks worried. Oliver looks stoic and maybe angry. It's hard to tell with Ollie.
"Critical condition, and they're working on it. They...I keep asking if the baby is okay, but they can't give me any answers."
"Can I see her?" Chloe asks, and Harry looks torn.
"It's supposed to be family only, but I can't leave Addie. They didn't say Kara was up to visitors yet."
Chloe gives Oliver a look that Harry can't read. He doesn't know her that well. Ollie, well Ollie he knows. So when Oliver places a hand on his shoulder while reaching over with his other hand to stroke Addie's hair in an attempt to soothe her, Harry takes his request seriously. "Harry, trust me, let Chloe in to check on Kara. You can't be everywhere at once, and they're friends."
He doesn't know about Chloe's ability, but Ollie does and Ollie knows that Chloe just needs a few minutes with Kara Osborn and her baby to make things right. If anyone can stabilize the baby it will be Chloe. "Okay." He informs security that Chloe is to be let in. Ollie escorts her out and promises to check in soon. Harry is already back to paying attention to Addie. Because there isn't anything he can do for his wife, not that he is aware of anyway, but Addie he can help. Addie he can soothe with promises and kisses and hugs. Addie he can assure that everything will be okay.
And maybe if he says it enough times he'll eventually believe it himself.