She shakes her head and hugs Rene. "No, papa. He was alone." Rene nods and squeezes her tightly as she cries. He can do this. He can stay still long enough to comfort his daughter and make sure that she knows she's just as important to him. If any of his children were put in a situation like this, he'd be here. No matter what else he was supposed to be doing, he'd be waiting for an update at their side, unwilling to leave, like any good father would. "He'll be okay, right?" Ann-Marie raises her red face, tears rolling over her cheeks. "He'll just have to recover, but he'll be fine, right?" Rene wipes her tears and kisses her forehead. "Your brother is strong. He would not let anything keep him down without fighting it. You remember how he argued and argued with me when he wanted to play hockey as a child?" She laughs once. "Even though his ankle was twisted?" "Yes. And he did play. He didn't fall once. It was big and swollen when he was done, buthe pushed through it all to do what he wanted. Jean-Pierre doesn't give up." He assures, kissing her temple. "We just have to wait." Which is easier said than done. Rene knows that. His knee starts bouncing again and he stands, then paces, then asks the nurses when they can expect an update, or when they can expectsomeone to know when to expect an update. Anything that will give him the smallest glimpse of home or information. Again, the nurse apologizes and asks if they would like to go to the cafeteria and get some food. Ann-Renee whimpers at the offer and shakes her head quickly. Rene knows she's notgoing anywhere until she gets news. Until he's out of surgery and she can touch him, see him alive, she's not going to be ableto think about anything else. Much like him. Even though his stomach is growling, he can't leavefor a second. What if that is when they get an update? What if that is when they are needed? If they need blood, they'll need Rene's vein, not Ann-Renee. He'll give it happily, all of it, if it means his son lives. Finally, Rene's legs feel like they're going to give out after walking and walking for over an hour. He forces himself to sit and takes Ann-Renee's hand. "He'll get through this."She smiles a sad, watery smiles and nods. "He's always been strong and ... and stubborn." "Which means he'll get through surgery and we'll have to deal with him barking demands and trying to get up right away. The doctors are going to hate having him here." Rene promises with a small smile. Ann-Renee wipes her nose and nods. "I hope you're right, Rene. I need my little boy to be big and strong as he ever was right now. I need to see that he's okay. So then I can take him home and keep him there, no cars, until the world feels safe again." Rene swallows his immediate thought. He knows that Ann-Renee won't actually hold their child hostage. It would be funny to watch her try, though. Jean-Pierre is taller than his mother, stubborn, and quick witted. He can get anywhere he wants to be if only he has the desire.But he smiles and rubs Ann-Renee's hand before staring at the floor. He's paced the halls, but hasn't counted the tiles on the floor and perhaps that's the best thing for him to do to keep him from going totally insane. He takes a breath and starts at the tile that holds both his feet – that's number one. He counts to his son's door, then rubs his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Counting is pointless. What he needs is a damn update.
