This is one half of a pair of pieces. I started with no clear idea other than to explore an idea from a challenge issued years ago, and ended up with a story between Gatch and BOTP. So, rather than making the tough decision, I did an experiment: how would essentially the same scene work in the two different universes. Thanks to Pax for the incentive and Cathy for the beta of her favourite. I finally did decide which one I preferred, but here are both so you can choose for yourself.
Being in a coma sucks.
I know I'm in a coma because that's what the voices around me say. All I know is I can hear and sometimes feel, but I can't move to save my life. Can't blink. Can't even breathe, and there's a tube down my throat to prove it.
Princess seems to be taking it hardest, coming in every day. Mornings and evenings. Things seem to be either gearing up or calming down when she's here.
Occupational hazard, both the coma and sitting at the bedside.
Feedings fall to Princess. First she says a few words to reassure me, then she turns off the machine in the corner and my chest stops filling and emptying for a moment. Two moments, really, just enough time for me to realize I'm not breathing. I used to wonder at my lack of panic; probably got used to it long ago. I'm also used to her routine cheerfulness when she announces, "Not now? OK. Maybe next time." Like the statement itself is another item on the checklist.
Then she takes something large off a tray and tears it open before she comes near. A tube of some type, obviously, because something gets forced up my nose and down my throat. She says to swallow, but my gag reflex always wins out. Somehow, though, it makes it into place. It moves around for a few minutes, sounds of some quick chemical test, and she announces that breakfast, or dinner, is served.
The menu sounds suspiciously like the special of the day, but not at Crescent Coral. They never served veal at Crescent Coral. Come to think of it, this place is pretty good. The nurses keep my nails and hair trimmed and even prop me up for visiting hours.
Mark is taking it hardest. Blaming himself, of course. Thinking in his gut that there was something he could have done to prevent all this. Thinking he should be setting a better example for his team while I'm here.
Sometimes he comes with Princess to the evening feedings. Bored of his guilt, uncomfortable that she's doing all this when he's off doing other things, keeping a life going outside this room.
Don't feel that way, Mark. It's her way, not yours. Let her do it, but be there for her when she's ready to move on.
Sometimes Mark comes to see me alone, late at night when he can't sleep. He's been doing it for a while, I think, a sort of one-sided conversation spread over several sessions, blurred together in both his mind and mine. He talks to me about his father, and how he still can't forgive him for lying all those years; I think Mark can't forgive himself for not forgiving Cronus. At least Cronus can be proud of him. Fathers shouldn't have to be ashamed of their sons.
He talks about Princess, and how she's fixated on him. He's not comfortable with it, but doesn't know how get out of it. Girl just wants a normal life, that's all. Boyfriend, Saturday nights at the movies, someone to giggle about with her girlfriends. He claims he's not interested because of his job, not that she'd be a high-maintenance girlfriend. What neither of them realizes is that heartbreak's also part of a normal life.
Keyop is taking it harder than anyone. The kid's too young for this. You shouldn't learn about mortality and frailty till you're an adult, and then it should be a grandparent or a pet, not a teammate who could have been you. Sure, all losses leave holes, but some holes leave smaller gaps in the business of living.
When he comes, it's with Princess in the morning. He talks to me like I can respond, or he stands around self-consciously. He tried to help Princess with the feeding once, but the special du jour ended up on the floor when I started gagging. That was pretty funny.
Jason is taking it worst of all. For all that he doesn't take orders well, he knows that the team is important. The team let me down. I suppose I let them down as well, but he doesn't think so.
He comes to see me alone. Daytime, usually. Normal visiting hours to go by the amount of noise outside my door. Asks me how I've been, then tells me about some change or other, or something he wants to fight management over. They're tightening the reins after losing me. Jason doesn't think he needs those reins, but he's wrong. He needs to learn that his instincts aren't always perfect, and they need to learn to trust those instincts.
The others come to talk, Jason comes to listen. Not to me, but to everyone who's so busy giving him advice that they don't give him any time to listen to it.
Anderson's taking it hardest of all. He knew this was going to happen and kept going anyways. So many choices, so many things he could have done differently over the years. And not a single one that he'd actually change; each was the best choice given the available data. Or so he has to believe.
He drops in when he's already in the building. Usually daytime, but sometimes at night; if at night, he's very tired and knows he'll be up a lot longer yet. Midnight oil doesn't begin to describe him.
Like Jason, he comes to listen. He also comes to talk. His entire life is listening to some groups, then giving orders to others, and he never has time to talk and listen to himself.
Tiny, yeah, he's taking it hard, too. Doesn't say much any more. At first he was here all the time, screaming at me to wake up, telling me I had a job to do, and just look at the people who were hurting. He doesn't understand. I can't wake up.
Even if I did, nothing would be the same. Jason would be flying my bird and impatient that I wouldn't take over -- couldn't take over -- Princess would try to do normal things with me, Mark would hesitate before doing anything, or bull through it, Keyop would act like nothing'd changed and be extra hyper just to prove it, except maybe Anderson, and he'd play along as long as possible.
But deep down we'd all know it's all pretend. I'm not the man they need on the team, not anymore. And that's a reality I don't care to face while awake.
And Tiny? He'd wonder at this stranger in his body.