AAAAAAAAAND I HAVE RETURNED!

Fashionably late, of course, but better late than never, I always say. Literally always.

I was hoping to have this all finished for you guys before Thanksgiving 2017, but, having been in the middle of the semester from HELL, it didn't happen. I'm hoping to have updates on this one for you, if not every week, every other week, but I'm not going to try and give you a specific timeline because, in typical ellameno fashion, I'll probably miss the bar, haha.

So, remember that little break in the last chapter between finding Ingrid and her revealing herself to Wade at the precinct? This is what happened in between. Please read, review, let me know what you think, and if you find any errors please point them out! I'm so excited to hear from you!

And, by the way, happy new year. I hope.

xXxXx

Between Heartbeats

Chapter One: The Sound of Madness

Nathan Third had never been a reckless driver: his hands were always at ten and two, he never drove more than five miles over the speed limit, and he never used his phone when he was behind the wheel. There wasn't a blemish on his driving record, and for good reasons. But, when he received the breaking news alert on his phone, he immediately abandoned his things in the professor's lounge – at a run – and drove to the school as fast as he could.

At first, he was numb. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to panic or stay calm.

Panic. Of course I should panic.

He reached for his phone in his back pocket as he sped onto the freeway towards X High School, ignoring the angry car horns he received for doing so, and held down the shortcut to dial is youngest daughter.

"Dear God, please have her answer," he begged, tearfully, as he brought the phone to his ear and listened to it ring. The adrenaline in his chest spread farther throughout his body with each ring that passed, and his heart plummeted when he heard Ingrid's automated voice,

"Hey, it's Ingrid Third, I'm not—"

Tears cascaded down his face, and he swore – something he rarely did – before hanging up and dialing again. "Please, god, no, please, please…"

His heart was nearly bursting from his chest by the time he finally flew past his house towards the apparently burning school. God, was all of this actually happening? Could there really have been a bomb of all things at his daughter's school?

The sirens, red and blue lights, and clouds of smoke he saw as he got closer to the school answered that question for him.

He was still five blocks away when the line of cars stopped him. They had all been stopped in the middle of the race to retrieve to their children by police-enforced barricades. Nathan opened his car door only to be bombarded by the sound of madness – a cacophony of wailing sirens, dueling car horns, and the distant roar of firehoses – and the smoking stench of destruction, but he pushed his way through the growing, clamoring crowd towards the barricades where uniformed officers were trying to keep everyone back.

"Everyone, please get back in your vehicles!" a bearded officer, with his arms outstretched, shouted over the call of the crowd. Parents shouted in his face, and he flinched away, but continued to speak over them. "For your own safety—"

"My daughter!" Nathan interrupted, pushing in between two mothers to stand in front of him. "Please, my daughter—"

The officer shook his head at him and held up a hand. "I'm sorry, sir, I know you're worried, but I can't help you. Now please, step back—"

"No, you don't understand!" Nathan argued, a mixture of determination and fury stirring in his chest as the officer rolled his eyes. "She's a safety patrol officer here at the school, I just need to know if you've seen her helping with the evacuation or something, just anything—"

The officer standing next to him, a woman, stepped towards him. "Wait, you said an officer?"

Hope sparked in Nathan's chest, and he stepped around another worried parent towards the woman. "Yes, a junior!" He fought the burning in his eyes as he began to describe his youngest daughter. "She's got black hair, green eyes, and pale skin," he paused to swallow the lump in his throat, and she nodded at him to continue.

"What's her name?" she asked.

"Ingrid Third."

Her eyes widened, along with those of the brute officer beside her, before she nodded and pointed behind him. "You need to get to the hospital, sir."

His stomach plummeted to his feet. "W-What?" he gasped. His hand flew up to his chest in a desperate attempt to catch his breath.

"I can't tell you for sure how she is," the woman continued, holding her hands out towards him in a meek effort to reassure him, "but her name was one of the few we heard over the radio being taken to St. Cloud's Trauma Center, along with some other patrol officers," she explained. Nathan's head swam with so many questions, he had to put a hand over his eyes. "Apparently, they went back into the school to help get people out and things went south, but that's all I can tell you, sir!"

Only one thing mattered. "But she was alive when they left?" He nearly choked at the end of his question, simultaneously dreading yet desperate to hear the answer.

She nodded at him, vigorously, a few strands of blonde hair falling from under her cap. "As far as we know, yes, but go find out for yourself! It hasn't been long!"

Relief flooded through him, and he nodded his thanks before sprinting back to his car. She's alive, he told himself, throwing his car in reverse, and pressing his hand relentlessly on the horn as he started to back out of the crowd. She's alive.

What should have been a thirty-minute journey to St. Cloud Trauma Center, Nathan turned into a twenty-two minute one, screeching to a stop in the first available parking spot he could find. He sprinted from his car, barely hesitating to lock it, and burst through the emergency doors to come face-to-face with even more chaos. The emergency room cots were occupied mostly by teenagers he vaguely recognized, most of whom were covered in ash, bandages, and were crying, or had been at one point. But, to his dismay, the first person he recognized wasn't his daughter… it was her best friend.

A doctor in a scrub gown had stepped away to reveal the African American teenager lying on a bed across the room. His shirt had been removed and heart monitors had been placed in various spots around his chest. There was a freshly placed bandage on his right arm and the doctors removed the mask from his face, but brought over a tray with a tube on it. He ran over.

"Neil!" he exclaimed, and the boy's head shot over to him. Only Ingrid's father called him that. The doctor holding the tube in her hand held up her arm to keep the worried man at a distance.

"Sir, you need to step back," she ordered calmly.

Fillmore waved her off. "No, wait a second," he rasped and motioned him over. "Have you seen her?" he asked, but Nathan shook his head.

"No, the officers at the school just told me she was here and I came right away. Where is she? Is she hurt?" he asked in a hurry, but Fillmore's only response was a deep, wheezing cough into his fist.

"Sir," the doctor repeated to Nathan, much more sternly, "I'm sorry but we have to intubate him right now." She looked at the nurse across the bed. "Push one of ketamine."

Fillmore reached up with his injured arm and grabbed his Nathan's arm tightly. "Canton did this. He wanted revenge," he said before he was thrown into a coughing fit. Black soot landed on the bed sheet. Before Nathan could react to it, Fillmore continued as the doctors tried to push him back down to the bed, his voice dry and hoarse. "Whatever you do, do not tell Ingrid I'm here, she'll panic."

"Wait, what are you talking about? Where is she, Neil?" he asked him, but Fillmore's eyes started to droop. He tried to keep himself upright, but he let himself get guided to the mattress.

"Th-the bomb," he gasped, "w-was m-meant for her," he managed to say before shutting his eyes completely. One of the doctors faced Nathan, placed two hands on his shoulders, and gently pushed him back away from the bed.

"Sir, they need to get this boy admitted and taken care of," she started, but Nathan could hardly hear her as he helplessly watched his daughter's ash-covered best friend get wheeled out of his sight. "So," she continued, softly guiding him towards what was probably the waiting room, "why don't we get you settled in, and we can find out where your daughter is, okay?" At the mention of Ingrid, she received every bit of his attention with tear-filled eyes.

"I just, I-I need to know she's okay," he admitted, as the worry tore at his chest like a dull knife. The woman nodded at him with genuine sympathy, holding back tears of her own as she watched the worried father breaking in front of her.

"I can assure you that we're taking care of her, sir," she soothed, and rubbed her hand up and down his arm. "Let's go find out where she is, okay?"

xXxXx

Okay, we all "knowwwww" that she turns out all right, but isn't the suspense just killing ya? I mean, I'm writing this damn thing, and it's practically killing me.

Please let me know what you think! I hope to hear from you soon!