Doc returned from dropping Tigger off with his mom. He was not unaffected by the pup's cuteness, but he'd sooner be mauled by a rabid werewolf than admit as much. His smile was gone from his face by the time he closed the door behind him... and was instantly forgotten when he noticed Charlie standing in the same place he left her.
She looked like she had seen a ghost. Her face was unusually pale, but her hands were red, squeezing the phone she held next to her ear. What in the world? He strode forward, saying, "Hey, Brat, are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick."
Charlie didn't react to his comment, didn't even look at him, so he walked around until he could plant himself directly in her field of vision. And that made nearly no effect. Here eyes were unfocused, not even seeing him, but instead seeing something else. Something that scared her. Badly.
"Hey, Charlie," he called again, waving his hands in front of her face. "Snap out of it."
It took a while, but eventually she did blink, and that seemed enough to set her body in motion. She trembled slightly, which alarmed him even further, but she was breathing audibly again, and her grip on the phone eased a bit. Her eyes tilted up to meet his, still fearful, and with a dry voice she whispered, "C-can I borrow y-your office? P-p-please?"
Now he was getting downright worried. He narrowed his eyes at her, glanced once at the phone, and said slowly, "I guess so. Is everything okay?"
Charlie didn't answer him, nor did she even say thank you. She just took a deep breath, turned around, and silently went into his office and shut the door. When he heard the soft click of the lock, he turned until he caught the wolf's eye, gestured with his head to join him, and pointed at the door. "You've got the ears. Listen to whatever you can, both of you. Make sure she's okay."