Gazzy was dying. That was the truth, and the truth does hurt sometimes. When a simple nurse who has grown close to her patient over the months finds a stack of unopened letters under the hospital bed of the late Gasman addressed to several people with highly unusual names, she makes it her mission to see that the letters get through to who they were meant for, for better or for worse.
Note: Please note that all the hospital scenes are not really standard, just what I think it is. I have to admit, I have not done any research whatsoever on hospital protocol. I hope you will not mind.
Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride or any characters associated with the story.
Part 1: The Beginning of The End
Prologue
Zephyr was dying.
Shanelle could already see that, and it broke her heart. It didn't matter what the doctors said. They were deluded; blinded by the unique nature of Zephyr and his wings, thinking that those wings could cause miracles to happen. And each time a doctor told the nurse to keep her chin up, with utter conviction that Zephyr was going to survive, she would shake her head slowly and tears would prick her eyes.
His eyes, when not closed, had a faraway look in them, and he would not respond as much as he did in the past. She should know; she was his nurse after all. He had stopped speaking a month and a half ago, and that had saddened her greatly, for she had greatly enjoyed talking to him despite his unexplainable condition.
She couldn't do anything about it. All she could do was to watch him rot in the hospital bed and be by his side when nobody else had been. She was there beside him as his mind began to slowly deteriorate along with his condition. She was there beside him as he became small and shrivelled, as his cheeks began to hollow, and as he became paler and weaker by the day. She was always there. She had always been.
She could still remember rumours on the day he first came in. Bloodied, wounded.
It had been on a late Monday night. The rain was pouring, and the wind howling. He had staggered like a drunkard into the hospital lounge, and had tremendously shocked the many people there, be it patient or staff. Shanelle had been tending to an elderly patient who was convinced that that day was his last in the hospital in a separate ward. She remembered him complaining about the weather.
She had heard the rumours; he had wings, bloodied and wet from the rain, sprouting out his back. He was looking into the air and shouting words that did not make any sense, with tears streaming down his eyes.
"You bloody bastard, Arry! Leave them alone! Don't you dare!" he had screamed to no one in particular. Then he threw a punch into the empty air in front of him, and he laughed, seemingly in victory.
She could imagine it all as if she had been there, along with the other witnesses, watching him.
And then, it was said that he fainted. That was the point where the doctors came into action, calling for emergency. Everyone had been in shock, because of the wings and his seemingly crazy state of mind. Dr. Inzella and Dr. Wilkins, the nearest qualified doctors, hurriedly rushed him into the emergency operation room. The amount of blood he had lost was shocking - Shanelle had read the report.
She had been assigned to help out with his case thereafter.
His blood was different from human blood - she had heard the doctors discussing amongst themselves, harried expressions plastered on their faces.
"What to do, what to do?" Dr. Wilkins had muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, like what he always did when he was agitated.
"From the amount of blood he has lost so far, he's not going to last very long," his companion, Dr. Inzella had said in a rush, obviously pressurized. "He doesn't take human blood, and he has wings, for goodness' sake. Wings! What are we to do?"
"Why can't we just give him human blood?" Dr. Wilkins' hand paused in mid air, as he looked at Dr. Inzella. "It wouldn't hurt, would it?"
A look of doubt crossed Dr. Inzella's face as he contemplated the matter. He shook his head.
"He's different, Toby! We don't know what will happen!"
"There isn't any time Wilbur!" Dr. Wilkins had shouted in frustration. "That man - " He pointed a finger into the emergency room " - is going to die if we continue this debate on whether to use human blood or not. Obviously he is a human, even though he has wings and his blood is different, so at this moment why don't we just bloody give him human blood? We don't want a death here!"
Shanelle had been standing not very far off, and she had not missed the look of uncertainty on Dr. Inzella's face. He was known to be wiser and had more experience than his fellow companion, but after a slight moment of hesitation, he gave a quick nod and both men returned into the emergency operation room, shouting orders to nurses nearby.
Zephyr was moved into the intensive care unit soon afterwards, and Shanelle had been assigned to be the nurse in charge of him in the hospital after that.
"Keep an eye on him, Miss Olswen," Dr. Inzella had warned. "I have witnessed that man when he first came in. He may be highly unstable, especially after the blood we gave him. We don't know what is going to happen. Alert me and Dr. Wilkins when he wakes up."
"Yes, Doctor."
"Also, when he wakes up, say nothing about the wings. We will leave it alone and address that issue another time, when he is more comfortable. Do you understand?" he said, his tone sombre. "I am serious about this, Miss Olswen. We have never seen anything like this before. Dr. Wilkins and I are doing our best to research into this. In the meantime, we do not want to agitate our patient."
"Yes, Doctor." Shanelle had nodded and turned her eyes down at the ground, as the usual feeling of intimidation overwhelmed her.
"Shanelle," Dr. Inzella had called. She looked up and met the eyes of the older, aged man. He made a clicking noise with his mouth. "Chin up."
She smiled.
With a curt nod and a not unkind smile, he left.
That was seven months and twenty-three days ago.