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Briefly running his finger over the pomegranate, Faramir is satisfied with its ripeness before putting it in his basket and looking at the shopping list. He's got almost everything, and he's got everything that he's put on the list. At the very bottom of the paper, written in messy blue biro, is an additional request 'ice cream :)' . Faramir has no idea where this blue biro has come from, or how Boromir has found his shopping list, but he won't deny his brother.
Getting his phone out of his pocket, Faramir briefly enquires what his brother actually wants, eye skimming over the new message.
Boromir
Out on patrol w/Merry & Pip, wish me luck :)
Good luck - although everyone knows you like them.
Also, what flavour ice-cream do you want?
Boromir has... until Faramir gets to the frozen aisle to text him back. If not then Faramir's getting his own choice, although he knows Boromir doesn't like it quite as much as he does. There's no text by the time he gets to the aisle, and Faramir opens up the freezer door before he gets a call. Expecting it's Boromir he fishes it out of his pocket but it's just an unknown number. Declining the call, he instead takes another check of his texts.
There's still no text from Boromir. And then the unknown number calls again, still the same one, and Faramir realises he should pick up. Perhaps it's a bill company, or something similar. Taking the ice-cream, he answers the call while getting the door closed. "Is this Faramir Steward?"
The voice is clinical, but it's not as dispassionate as when the bill collectors normally call. "Yes, why?"
"Where are you right now, sir?"
It's an unusual question, and something in Faramir realises that this is wrong. But he still answers, "I'm in a store, why?"
"You're listed as Boromir Steward's emergency contact." There's a moment of pause, just enough for Faramir's mind to begin to realise what's happening before they continue. "I'm afraid he's been shot. He's currently in surgery."
Dimly, Faramir realises he's dropped something. There's a thud, what he thinks is a strange ringing in his ears, and a beating, thumping sound that's getting louder, closer, and faster. When he speaks he sounds far away. "I'm sorry?"
"He's at Minas Tirith's central hospital. If you want to come to the hospital, you'll need to go to the main reception desk and ask for him."
They sound almost surprised they've been able to finish without Faramir interrupting them. But he's still standing there. A thought appears, "Did he come in with anyone else? Peregrine Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck?"
"I can't divulge other patients' information unless you're family, or their emergency contact."
"I'm their-" Faramir stops, because that won't matter. "Please?"
He can barely hear their intake of breath over his heart, but they speak. "Boromir is the only one in critical condition. Peregrine asked his doctors to have emergency contacts called."
"Can I- can I speak to him?"
"No." The voice isn't deliberately hurting him, but Faramir can't help the sinking feeling in his heart. He also realises they're waiting for him to hang up, probably some policy. But he's not sure if he can. He knows he doesn't want to, something about this call seems like a lifeline to Boromir. But the more time he wastes the more time he's away from Boromir. And so Faramir hangs up the call.
Nothing seems to change, he can still barely focus on anything, and his heart still feels like it will beat out of his chest. Except now he’s even more discontented to his brother. His brother - he needs to get to Boromir. As quickly as he can. His gaze has fallen to the floor, and he realises the icecream is there. Defrosting, a little, but somehow not damaged by the fall. He isn’t sure why he’s picked it up, but the coolness helps bring him a little back into reality.
He can hear the music the store’s playing again, and his mind begins to go over the things he needs to do. Does he need to pay for this? Or should he put it back? He doesn’t want to wait in a line while his brother’s in an operating theatre, but he also doesn’t just want to leave this here. He begins to head to the entrance anyway, and there’s no queue. Something in his body moves on autopilot and now his items are on a conveyor belt, and he’s just standing here waiting for them while his brother may be dying. Faramir knows what the price will come too, knows that he’ll waste more time with a PIN machine - although he’s wasting time being here - so simply puts notes on the counter. It’s too much, but he doesn’t particularly care as he leaves. At least no-one comes after him.
Leaving the store, it’s cold as a car rushes past. It’s then Faramir thinks that, perhaps, the universe is deliberately playing tricks on him. Slowing him down. Because he never takes his car to the store, it’s only a fifteen minute walk and Faramir enjoys using it to clear his head. Now he can’t even drive directly to the hospital, and for the next fifteen minutes he won’t be able to drive at all. Probably less than fifteen minutes, seeing as he’s starting to run. He crosses the road, and then continues, and then he sees a taxi.
Immediately he begins flagging it down, and maybe the universe is now on his side because the taxi begins to come towards him. He still runs to meet it halfway, getting inside as soon as it’s near him. “Where too?”
“Central hospital.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath from the driver, and a little nod. As though now he understands why Faramir was so desperate to get his attention, running at night time and still with a shopping bag at his feet. Why is he still carrying that? To try and convince himself something is normal? As though the flimsy plastic is going to make everything ok? The driver is mercifully silent, and Faramir slumps for a second. His mind won’t stop, however. It wants him to go faster, it wants him to make sure Boromir is ok, it wants him to know he should have taken the car - Boromir always takes the car. It wants him to know that he’s doing everything wrong, and this is all his fault. And why isn’t he calling anyone?
Calling someone, of course. He unlocks his phone, getting to his contacts. The names in front of him almost begin to spin, begin to blur into one and he isn’t sure who he’s calling. He isn’t even sure why he’s calling them. The ID comes up, and it begins to ring. Again, and again. He’s called Merry. Of course Merry won’t pick up. But still, Faramir lets the phone play to the end of the call, just in case he will. In case he’s getting to his phone, and it’s only because he’s left it a few feet away and not because he’s in a hospital.
This time Faramir needs to think about his contacts, who will actually pick up. Who needs to know. He lingers over certain names, people he wants at his side, but it’s not about him. It’s about Boromir (nevermind the fact most of the people he would want by his side are in hospital beds). Faramir begins to call his father, waiting for him to pick up.
The call is accepted almost immediately, but Faramir waits for a second to see if his father will say anything. Then he speaks, “Boromir’s in surgery. He was shot, the hospital just-”
“The hospital has called me as well.” Of course they would, because he’s family. Why has Faramir called his father when he should have known? “Have you got transportation to it?”
“Yes, I’m- I’m driving there.”
“Why do you hesitate?”
“I’m in a taxi.”
A silence comes over the call, with neither party sure what to say next. It was always Boromir who filled these silences. Then Denethor talks again, “Whoever gets to the hospital will go straight to him, don’t wait for me. It is better if he has someone by his side.”
“Of course.” Faramir is glad Denethor has suggested that. He doesn’t want to be waiting for his father when he could be going to his brother, but he also wouldn’t suggest that. The silence falls over the call, and this time they don’t break it. Some noise comes through, of tires turning and car honks blaring. Faramir is pretty sure his father will be able to hear his nervous tapping, but the elder doesn’t call him out on it. Now unoccupied, he looks up the cost of the drive. He gets the banknotes out preemptively. And now he has nothing to do again. His mind begins to act up, and the tapping gets simpler. Then the taxi screeches to a halt.
Faramir pushes the money towards the driver and immediately gets out, hanging up the call as he leaves. He takes the steps two at a time, and now his heartbeat has gotten worse again. It almost hurts, and Faramir feels slightly light-headed. The doors open for him, and there’s three people ahead of him at the reception desk. He listens to where they’re going, trying to regain a sense of direction in this building. C18 is to the left, and on the second floor. B9 and B10 and are both on the first floor, second door on the right. He gets to the hospital desk.
“Boromir Steward, he- he should be in surgery. Possibly. When you - the hospital you - called, they said he was.” Faramir’s speech is rambled, and he’s surprised they haven’t interrupted him. The hospital is remarkably quiet and he hears the keys being typed, the results loading. There’s a longer pause of silence, and Faramir can feel his heart drop again. It knows what is coming, and what he’s about to hear. But this news is so much worse.
“I’m very sorry, sir.”