[For Cole]

Having to care for someone who doesn't think he needs care at all makes Terry realize that the few things she's grateful to have inherited from her father are the same things that make it easy to drive each other insane. One could write a bloody treatise on how stubborn the Cassidys are. While the heart-stopping fear for Sean has slowly faded with each passing day, Terry still visits him every day, bringing food and generally making sure he's resting and not killing himself, which of course he is, because apparently being bedridden for longer than a week after being shot isn't manly enough or is lazy or whatever.

They occasionally snipe at each other and she threatens to kill him herself if she finds him trying to walk again, but Terry always leaves her father with a kiss and her spirits lifted. Whatever she feels, he's still alive and breathing, and the relief almost always burns away any other feelings and leaves her jittery, needing some sort of distraction.

When she leaves the apartment building, she decides against flying, the wind too cold to make it at all pleasant. At least her favorite coffee shop isn't too far from the Cloisters, and Terry starts to walk, cutting across the park. She pulls her phone out, briefly scrolling through her few contacts before settling on Cole, texting a quick Coffee? bean counter @ gerard & high st before her fingers freeze off.

She doesn't hear her phone again until she's already in the shop and decides to wait for him to arrive before ordering anything. She did promise to buy him a coffee, after all.

[For Raven] bang bang.

It's only been a few hours, but Terry had been woken before she could get to bed, and at this point, she's exhausted. She's only accidentally shattered one sheet of glass on the hospital floor and she feels hollowed out, with nothing but fear and anger coursing through her in turn.

Fear, for obvious reasons. Anger, because if she had gotten her father back only to lose him to something so mundane as this, she isn't sure she would have handled it well. At least the first time, she'd had some consolation in the fact that he'd died saving people (and a lot of denial).

She's spent most of her time by his bedside, save for a trip to the hospital cafeteria to grab a cup of coffee and a stale scone. It's better than nothing, and she eats it standing outside his hospital room, the door cracked so she can hear the beeping of the heart rate monitor. Even though she knows he's fine, he's pulled through and will wake up soon, the noise is reassuring.