To Callaway
Parker didn't have any injuries to speak of. He was very clear that he wanted to get out of the fucking hospital as soon as he possibly could. As the members of the team questioned him, he was short with his answers, sullen at best and belligerent at worst. They reassured him that they'd called Callaway and that the man would be there soon, but Parker had almost told them not to call because he didn't know if he was ready to see the man. Sure, Reagan had mentioned that the man had been waiting for him, but could he really trust to hope for something so amazing? In Parker's experience, he didn't get such a good thing twice, especially after he'd treated it so poorly the first time around.
Everyone had left him alone, moving on to the next victim, the next little headline or piece of the puzzle depending on how you looked at it. The silence of the little exam room was almost too much to bear and before he knew it, he found himself on the floor with his knees up to his chest, sobbing as quietly as he could.
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