The Greatest Showman: March One-Shots

25. Access Denied

this is pt. 2 of the "easter" one-shot☺️
happy easter, everyone!!! 🐰🌷

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The brownie pan that W.D. had just handed to her slips past her fingers and hits the granite with a crash that seems to silence the whole world. Charity looks behind Phillip's shoulder to see the policeman solemnly standing in the doorway. She swallows—or she at least tries to.

"Oh," is all she's able to say, before her knees turn to jelly and she has to grip the counter for support. W.D. is around the island and by her side in an instant. "How is... How bad... What... What happened?" she stammers, her stomach clenching into tight knots and her eyes welling up with tears.

Phillip's face tells it all, and Charity just about breaks down right then and there. But she knows she can't. She has a kitchen full of prepared food, two dozen little girls upstairs, a house full of guests, and a... a husband who was supposed to be preparing for the Easter egg hunt at the circus.

"Okay," is all she manages to say, now grasping onto W.D.'s arm for support. "Let's... let's go, then. We should... go see him, right?"

Phillip just nods once, tears swimming in his eyes, and then he grabs ahold of Charity's arm and leads her down the hall. It's like he's too afraid to speak. The policeman gives them a sad smile as they approach, then says something about his condolences and sympathies, but Charity only hears the part about how he'll drive them over to the hospital.

The hospital.

"Wait, what's going on?" She whips around to see a very concerned Anne standing on the stairs, holding onto Penelope's hand. Luckily, Caroline and Helen are still upstairs doing God-knows-what.

"There's been an accident, miss," the policeman informs her, and Charity's never been happier to have one of them do the talking for her.

"Is everything all right?" Anne asks, then seems to realize the stupidity of her question. Phillip's and Charity's faces give it all away. "I'll stay here," she says, nearly immediately afterwards. "Send word when you hear anything." It looks like she wants to do something else, but decides against it. Charity, Phillip, and the policeman leave without another word.

At the hospital, Charity is more frazzled than she's ever been before. Pacing, shouting at the doctors and nurses, hair in all different directions, puffy eyes.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, we can't let you see your husband," the nurse repeats for the fifth time in the last hour-and-a-half.

"Really? Because I think you just contradicted yourself in the same sentence," Charity retorts, incredulous. "That's my husband I want to see. Why am I not allowed to?!"

"Doctor's orders, ma'am. I'm very sorry," the nurse says. "If there was anything I could do—"

"There is," Charity interrupts, slamming her palm against the desk. "I know there is. Go find the doctor. I want to speak to the doctor."

With a small sigh, the nurse nods once. "Yes'm."

Charity watches her go, then turns around to look over at Phillip. "Am I crazy? Is that too much to ask?"

He doesn't say anything, just shakes his head slowly. He leans forward, elbows pressed against his knees, and fingernails picked bloody with anxiety. It's then that Charity realizes he hasn't said much of anything since he relayed the news to her.

Slowly, she walks over to the young ringmaster, gently sitting down beside him. With a motherly gesture, she reaches out to rub his back calmingly.

"What else did the policeman tell you, Phillip?" she asks quietly. "And what aren't you telling me?"

He reaches up and scrubs his hands down his face. "He... didn't say much of anything," Phillip says softly, his voice rather hoarse. "He just said it... wasn't looking too good."

Charity tries to mask her sharp intake of breath with a cough, and, when she regains herself, she notices that the world is much more blurry now. She bites the inside of her lip and tries to push the tears back. She isn't sure what to say—she's figured herself that Phin wasn't doing too well, but now that it's been voiced...

No. She doesn't want to think about the possibilities.

Right at that moment, then, the nurse returns with a doctor in a white lab coat and cap over his hair. Charity's on her feet in the speed of light, and is at the desk the next second.

"Mrs. Barnum, we're very sorry—" the doctor starts, but Charity interrupts him.

"Don't even start that with me, doctor," she says. "I want to know why I have been sitting here for an hour-and-a-half, and have not yet received word on my husband. I don't even know what happened for him to end up here in the first place!"

The doctor nods, somewhat understandingly, but Charity doesn't buy it. "Like I was saying, Mrs. Barnum, we're incredibly sorry for this inconvenience—"

"'Inconvenience'?" Charity nearly shrieks. "No, this isn't an 'inconvenience,' this is breaking the law. Isn't it? I'm his wife, my name is on all of his medical forms. Why is it so difficult to get any information around here?!"

The doctor swallows, pressing his lips together to try and keep himself from... from... what? Screaming at her? Telling her what's really going on?

"Mrs. Barnum, would you like to come back to my office, so that we can discuss your husband's condition?" he says at last, his voice tight, as if it's taken everything in him to say just that one sentence.

"No," Charity answers immediately. "I'd like to see him, please."

The doctor's jaw clenches. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we cannot allow that."

Charity almost wants to throw a temper tantrum, right then and there in this horrible hospital's waiting room. But she doesn't. She's able to compose herself enough to say, "Fine. Then I'll just continue to wait out here in consistent fear and anxiety because nobody is telling me what has happened to my husband. And then we'll see how much I'll be paying your sorry ass."

She turns around and walks briskly back to her seat. And that's when she breaks down into tears.