Rating:
PG13
Type: Angst. Family. Rewrite.
Author's Note:
This was done for my writing prompt exercise. IlovetowriteSMP
prompted me with... Carly/Reese or Carly/Durant. Also, I have
no medical expertise whatsoever even if I did look up the stuff I
used for this piece, so take this as it is… fiction.
Summary:
Rewrite of May 4th, 2006... John Durant gets shot and Carly asks for
another miracle.
--- Vigilance ---
Carly paced the waiting room of General Hospital. Her heart raced impatiently inside her chest—harsh, fast beats thump-thumping rhythmically. She wrung her hands anxiously, unaware of the drying blood, fingernails digging angrily into her skin. Her mind raced with worry as tears stung her eyes. She'd been here for hours… waiting… just waiting… with nothing but time for her mind to run wild with horrible thoughts.
Dead. John was dead. That's why it was taking so long and no one wanted to tell her, her mind supplied cynically. John was dead and it was all her fault. She knew it. Carly shook her head, tears threatening to fall with every other minute that passed by. She had been angry with John for so long. He'd wanted to take Jason and Sonny down—his sole purpose—and she couldn't have that. She couldn't let John in her life if that's all he could see… if that was all he wanted even after she'd told him where she stood.
So Carly stayed angry, resentful, even a little hateful but at least John was still around, at least he was there, but if he died… if her father died, she didn't know what she would do. Because she maybe angry with him but she didn't want him dead. Not after everything. Not after he willingly went into that house and stayed with her as the shots rang out around them. Not when he put her safety—the safety of his daughter—above his own. Not when he took that bullet that was surely meant for Carly. No. John couldn't die.
"Family of John Durant?"
Carly whirled around, tears streaked her cheeks and she wiped them away. "Here," she croaked out. She noted the petite nurse, hospital issued scrubs and a solemn face. Carly could feel her heart constrict painfully in her chest. "Carly Corinthos—I'm his daughter."
"Well Ms. Corinthos, the doctors have taken your father into surgery and they're operating on him as we speak." Came the soft reply, and Carly cringed at the sympathetic tone.
"It's already been over an hour."
The nurse nodded and looked at Carly with compassion in her eyes. "Ms. Cor…"
"Please just call me Carly."
"Carly. The doctors are doing everything they can right now."
"I need to know if he's going to be okay. Can you tell me that?"
She bit her lip, looking around cautiously before sighing. "I won't lie to you, Carly. The paramedics said they barely got him back in that ambulance. It's been touch-and-go since before he even arrived, but the tourniquet may have saved his life."
Carly shook her head. "That was all him. I failed at nursing school." The nurse didn't know what to say to that so she simply continued on.
"The bullet went straight through his leg, but it punctured his femoral artery and he has lost a significant amount of blood. It's caused a lot of internal damage to the leg. The doctors are working on him now… between surgery and the blood transfusions…"
Carly made a soft noise of pain, stomach churning at the words.
"Do you need to sit down?" Carly shook her head.
"No. No, I'm fine." Carly took in a deep breath. "What are his chances?"
"Right now… it isn't looking that great. He's losing more blood than he's actually taking in, but the doctors are doing everything they can to help him." The nurse patted her arm in comfort. "He's fighting though, so that's a good sign." Carly's sniffled laughter of disbelief sounded foreign even to her ears. "His heart is still beating… he's still here."
Carly roughly wiped away the tears on her cheeks and nodded. "This is where you tell me to stay positive?"
"Yeah."
"Do you know how much longer it's going to be?"
The nurse shook her head. "It's just a waiting game now. Do you have anyone I can call? You shouldn't be alone."
"Me and alone are pretty good friends." Carly retorted; her voice resigned. "Thanks, but I'm good here."
"Well, okay. I have to go make the rounds but as soon as I hear any more news I'll let you know." Carly just nodded in understanding. Her eyes frozen at the empty wall in front of her as the nurse walked away with a sad look on her face.
---
Carly made her way to the chapel with an awkward glance. Only tragedies could make her step into this place… no wonder she hated them so much. It always symbolized pain. She looked around but the place was empty.
"I think you already know why I'm here." She offered matter-of-factly. "Not really a surprise, right?" Carly walked up cautiously, eyes fixed on the flickering candles. She took a wood lighting stick, lit it with the fire from another candle before lighting a solitary candle of her own. She closed her eyes and blew out the lighting stick, shaking her head with a soft sigh.
"How many times have I been in one of these…?" She threw out bitterly. "And I'm still not use to it. You must get sick of seeing my hypocritical face, huh? Talking to you only when I need something," Carly mused dryly. "So I'm here again. I—god…" Carly's head shot up and she looked apologetic.
"Wow, sorry. I mean—it's… this sucks. See this blood on my hands…" Carly supplied, turning her hands and inspecting said blood. She hadn't even bothered to wash the blood off. "It's my dad's. He… well he was shot. He's not doing to great… and I don't even know what the hell I'm doing here." She added in frustration. "Sorry… again, I—sorry. I well—I kind of really need your help, okay? I mean this is how it works right? I ask… and you… I don't. I just…"
Carly breathed deeply.
"He makes me angry. And he's tried to tear my family apart even though he says it's for my own good. And I—" Carly stared at the flickering candles, eyes imploring. "He can't die, okay? He's my dad… and I know I don't act like it and I've wished horrible things on him, but I don't want him dead. Not even after everything."
The flames were hypnotic and Carly's heart beat against her chest with every word. The scene in the ambulance replayed in her head and she tried not to cry.
"You can't die. You're not allowed to. Do you hear me, damn it? You. Cannot. Die." She sniffled. "What were you thinking, John? Huh? What the hell were you thinking?"
"I've said I've hated him and wished him gone so many times, but… not like this." Carly confessed roughly. "Not with a bullet meant for me. Not without—no. I—not when we were just starting to be civil to each other. Just—" Carly fisted her hands roughly, nails digging into skin once again… the half moon indents a stark relief to the actual fear going on inside her. This was all so damn hard. "Don't let him die, alright? Not right now. Not like this…" Carly's voice was so anguished she thought she'd crumble with it all. "Please."
John looked at her then—face pale, heart beat slow but still there.
Carly chuckled—the sound short and bewildered. "Look at me now, huh? Begging for the life of a man I've wished away in the past… a man I turned my back on without another thought." Carly licked her dry lips. "But he's still my father. He's still Michael and Morgan's grandfather. We still need time. If he makes it through this, I—we could try, you know? Maybe?"
"You… Carly…" His eyes closed—voice weak and jumbled. "Thinkin'… 'bout… you…" And then the machine monitoring his heart had gone crazy, his hand fell lax in hers and the paramedics where moving her out of the way.
Carly dropped down to sit on the empty pew—tears silently falling down her cheeks—and waited.
---
It took another hour or two of waiting—calling the nanny, getting the boys taken care of, assuring Jax that she was fine and he should go take care of his son—until the same petite nurse had found her, blank expression on her face. Carly didn't know what to expect. The woman's eyes lifted to meet hers and Carly's heart pounded desperately in her chest.
"They're moving him to ICU now." Carly's breath rushed out in a whoosh of relief, even as the nurse's face looked drawn and tight. "There was a lot of damage to his leg. He's going to need some serious physical therapy to gain back the use of his leg, but the doctor will tell you more about that. He's not completely out of the woods but he seems to be getting there." She smiled at Carly softly. "He definitely put up one hell of a fight."
Carly smiled back involuntarily, eyes straining with the dried tears. "John doesn't know how to quit… too stubborn."
"Then that's a good thing," she added. "Your father is probably already set up in his room. If you follow me, I'll take you right to him."
"Yeah, um—" Carly cleared her throat. "Can you just give me one minute?" The nurse looked confused but something must have hit because she was nodding and pointing over her shoulder.
"I'll be right outside." And then she just walked out the doors. Carly didn't know whether to laugh or cry some more or just go right down to her knees, but the last one really wasn't her so she settled for a shake of her head as she turned to stare at the flickering candles at the front of the chapel.
"Looks like I owe you another one." Carly's smile was small and painful. She ran her hands through her hair, covering her face and peeking through her fingers. She couldn't say thank you, couldn't get the words to come out right then but hopefully she'd be able to show it… now that John would be okay. She offered another smile to the empty air and then she was out the door, following right behind the nurse. She needed to see her father now… she'd deal with everything else later.
---
It took sixteen hours for John to wake up and be responsive. Carly hadn't even moved, just stayed vigilant and determined in the uncomfortable chair beside John's bed. She called her boys to say good night, couldn't bear to tell them anything about their grandpa, not yet. She should have called Bobbie but for some reason couldn't find the will. Carly couldn't deny how much she hated hospitals—the air of sickness that permeated the air… the constant waiting… the stillness and quiet…
"Doc said you're going to need physical therapy when you're up to it." Carly acknowledged softly. Her fingers rubbed the space next to John's hand, brushing his fingers every so often. "Get your leg back to working order. You'll probably have to walk with a cane. I heard those are in though, at least this year, so…"
Carly dropped her head to the hospital bed.
"Are you waiting for me to say 'thank you'?" Carly huffed against the sheet. "Cause the doctor said you should be waking up and you're not awake, so I think you're doing this on purpose. You know this gives a whole new meaning to emotional blackmail, John, and you can't possibly be this manipulative while unconscious."
Carly lifted her head to John's pale face but nothing. His heart still beat and his chest moved up and down with every breath, but still nothing.
"Okay. Fine. Thank you," she threw out in a hurried exhale of air. "Happy now? I said it. So you do your part and wake up." No change. "This is getting ridiculous. What more do you want from me? Fine. Fine, okay? I'd probably be dead right now if it wasn't for you, dad. So you know, thank you… for showing up that day. And for taking a bullet that probably had my name written all over it. Thank you. And for being a general pain in my ass even though you are my father and we share DNA. And thank you for constantly sticking your nose where it doesn't belong…"
"…shoulda stop'd… dad…" was the raspy reply.
"You're awake." Carly startled—eyes wide. "Don't talk. Let me just get a nurse real quick." Carly added in a rush, getting up to do just that when John grabbed her wrist.
"No… not yet…"
"You've been unconscious for awhile, John. Let me get someone and they can check you out," Carly reasoned.
"…a little while…" He coughed—his hold was weak on her wrist. "… stay…"
"Okay. I'll stay with you." Carly patted John's hand and sat back down. He smiled, eyes drifting closed again. The least she could do right now was stay with him a little longer—a nurse would make the rounds eventually.
--- end ---
