Till It's Gone
Rating: G
Category: Romance/Angst
Spoilers: Up to "All in your head"
Notes: Well I don't really have too much to say about this except I started writing it to put off starting an essay. Hope you like!
She was watching me, I could see her out the corner of my eye. We were both standing at opposite ends of the admit desk, trying to fool each other and everyone around us into believing we were filling in charts. She was trying to be subtle about it, and the rest of the busy ER was probably oblivious to her gaze, but I could feel it burning into my soul, just like it always had done. I refuse to look up however, unwilling to meet her eyes and see the worry, pain and worst of all pity that I knew would be etched on her features.
Pity. The one thing I fear seeing in people's eyes. It's the hardest emotion to conceal and to have it directed at me just makes this all seem so real somehow… so helpless. I have taken great pains to avoid having to deal with their pity – most don't even know. Maybe it's being cowardly, but to be honest I don't really give a damn anymore. I had to tell her though, I had to let someone in before I lose it completely, and she was the only one willing to listen. I should have been more surprised at this, I suppose, given our history. But I'm not. To have her understanding, her comfort seems utterly natural somehow; perhaps it was fate. That thought almost makes me laugh. I've never been a big believer in fate, but I've done a lot of thinking in the past few days and it's the only way I can rationalise the injustice of this all.
I sense that she is now looking down at her work and I take the opportunity to look up at her properly. My breath catches slightly at the sight of her. I know I shouldn't, I know that ultimately it's wrong, but I can't help but marvel at her beauty and regret the past. I wonder how it could have been if only I hadn't made as many mistakes. Sure, in retrospect, my life hasn't been so bad, but could it have been better? Was I lucky enough to find my soulmate, someone who gets me, compliments me and accepts me completely? Was I stupid enough to let her walk away? As I look across the desk, I'm sure more than ever that the answer to all of the above is yes. What I'm having a hard time figuring out is am I being punished by having her before me when it's too late, or whether it is by the grace of God that I am blessed with her unwavering presence for that final mile. It's a half empty, half full situation and I'm having trouble just seeing the glass. I watch as she reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and I smile at the action, one of the little things that make her… her. Little nuances that I could never forget… well hopefully. I try to imagine what this must be like for her. Does she regret coming back? I'm sure this is not what she imagined would be waiting for her. Maybe she should leave now, before she gets in any deeper. But she won't. I curse myself as I realise how selfish I'm being, causing her needless heartache just so I can spare my own. But that selfish part of me can't help relishing that she alone knows; the comfort that only she can give. I'm falling for her all over again. I shouldn't – I owe it to so many people not to, but my head is no match for my heart these days. It's an uneven fight. And for what? I have nothing to offer her, nothing to leave her with but pain. She deserves so much more than that. Does she even feel the same way? I doubt it. I don't doubt for a second that she cares, but I'm sure any other possible feelings she may have are eclipsed by pity. The one emotion I hate seeing in her eyes, but as long as she's here, I can live with it. Punishment or not, I send a prayer of gratitude to whoeever sent her back to me.
It's hot as hell in here, I'm finding it hard to breathe. Watching her isn't enough any more, I need to talk to her, let her know it's time to relieve her of this burden I've placed on her shoulders. I take a deep breath and walk around the desk towards her.
I stand and watch him. I'm trying to give the illusion that I'm doing my charts and hopefully I'm discrete enough that no one else notices, but I can't concentrate and instead find my eyes drawn to his face. He knows I'm watching him, I can tell, but I take his ignoring me as permission and continue. I'm not exactly sure why I'm silently observing him as he also pretends to work. The doctor part of me is looking for signs of fatigue and discomfort, but I guess the rest of me is doing it because I still can. We've both come to accept that he's dying and who knows how many more opportunities I'll have like this. I'm trying to store the memories while they're still good, God knows they're not going to get any better. Of the many scenarios I imagined returning home to, the last I would have come up with was having to watch him die. I didn't for a minute think things would be the same, I fully expected for him to get on with his life – I'm not that naïve, but this? I feel utterly helpless, unable to do anything for him, except be there if and when he needs me. But I'm not the one he should be confiding in. As much as I want to, it shouldn't be me comforting him in the middle of the night. Maybe I'm just the easy way out. Maybe it would have been better for everyone if I had never returned. Without me here he would be forced to tell all those he's leaving behind. It's not right that they don't know, they need time to prepare. But could I really live with some phone call in the middle of the night, a month or two down the line? No, I'm much too selfish for that. I wouldn't trade being here right now in a million years. I think perhaps something drew me back to Chicago now, after all this time. I was meant to make my peace with him, try to reconcile the past before it was too late.
I feel my eyes start to fill up slightly and have to look back down in order to blink them away. I can't look back up now, can't risk him seeing me like this, or anyone else for that matter. If he were to catch my eye now, I wouldn't be able to hide the pity and he'd see it. He deserves so much more than that. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I push an annoying strand of hair out my eyes and doodle aimlessly on a pad in front of me. What am I feeling right now? I'm not quite sure. I'm working on autopilot to some extent, just to remain functioning and appear normal to everyone else. Also I'd be no use to him If I'm a wreck. Emotionally, other than sorrow, I can't help but feel overwhelmed with regret. I really did love him back then so why the hell did I leave? I'm a coward, that's the long and short of it. I was too damn scared to give it a chance. He was my best friend, there was nothing I didn't know about him, we just…clicked. We had the potential to be amazing together, but if it hadn't worked, what then? I would have been left with nothing except the knowledge that if I couldn't make it with him, chances are true love doesn't really exist beyond fairytails. Looking back now, the reasoning that seemed so reasonable at the time is now flimsy at best. Had I found the love of my life in Arizona… definitely not! If I had gotten off that damn train would it end up any differently? Probably not, it had no doubt already taken hold by then, but it's very likely that the last five years could have been the happiest of my life. And I doubt the pain I will feel at losing him could get any worse than it will be – already is. But now it's too late. He's not mine and he's not well. Yet I can't help the fact that I'm falling for him again. I used to think that wondering "what if" had to be better than knowing failure. I couldn't have been more wrong. I had a real shot at love and I walked away. Joni Mitchell sure as hell called it right.
So now I'm left with no other option but to help him get through this and do my best to conceal any pity I feel for him, he would hate that. I send a prayer of thanks to whoever sent me back to him. It's really hot in here, I need some fresh air. I sense him approaching me and look up to finally meet his eyes.
"Mark," she smiled warmly as he reached her side.
"I could really use some air. Since you're getting about as much work done as I am, want to join me?"
"Sure. Why don't you head outside, I'll find someone to cover for us for a bit and meet you out there." She turned to go search for Luka..
"Susan?" His voice stopped her and she turned back round to face him.
"Hmm?"
"Thanks."
"Anytime."
Rating: G
Category: Romance/Angst
Spoilers: Up to "All in your head"
Notes: Well I don't really have too much to say about this except I started writing it to put off starting an essay. Hope you like!
She was watching me, I could see her out the corner of my eye. We were both standing at opposite ends of the admit desk, trying to fool each other and everyone around us into believing we were filling in charts. She was trying to be subtle about it, and the rest of the busy ER was probably oblivious to her gaze, but I could feel it burning into my soul, just like it always had done. I refuse to look up however, unwilling to meet her eyes and see the worry, pain and worst of all pity that I knew would be etched on her features.
Pity. The one thing I fear seeing in people's eyes. It's the hardest emotion to conceal and to have it directed at me just makes this all seem so real somehow… so helpless. I have taken great pains to avoid having to deal with their pity – most don't even know. Maybe it's being cowardly, but to be honest I don't really give a damn anymore. I had to tell her though, I had to let someone in before I lose it completely, and she was the only one willing to listen. I should have been more surprised at this, I suppose, given our history. But I'm not. To have her understanding, her comfort seems utterly natural somehow; perhaps it was fate. That thought almost makes me laugh. I've never been a big believer in fate, but I've done a lot of thinking in the past few days and it's the only way I can rationalise the injustice of this all.
I sense that she is now looking down at her work and I take the opportunity to look up at her properly. My breath catches slightly at the sight of her. I know I shouldn't, I know that ultimately it's wrong, but I can't help but marvel at her beauty and regret the past. I wonder how it could have been if only I hadn't made as many mistakes. Sure, in retrospect, my life hasn't been so bad, but could it have been better? Was I lucky enough to find my soulmate, someone who gets me, compliments me and accepts me completely? Was I stupid enough to let her walk away? As I look across the desk, I'm sure more than ever that the answer to all of the above is yes. What I'm having a hard time figuring out is am I being punished by having her before me when it's too late, or whether it is by the grace of God that I am blessed with her unwavering presence for that final mile. It's a half empty, half full situation and I'm having trouble just seeing the glass. I watch as she reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and I smile at the action, one of the little things that make her… her. Little nuances that I could never forget… well hopefully. I try to imagine what this must be like for her. Does she regret coming back? I'm sure this is not what she imagined would be waiting for her. Maybe she should leave now, before she gets in any deeper. But she won't. I curse myself as I realise how selfish I'm being, causing her needless heartache just so I can spare my own. But that selfish part of me can't help relishing that she alone knows; the comfort that only she can give. I'm falling for her all over again. I shouldn't – I owe it to so many people not to, but my head is no match for my heart these days. It's an uneven fight. And for what? I have nothing to offer her, nothing to leave her with but pain. She deserves so much more than that. Does she even feel the same way? I doubt it. I don't doubt for a second that she cares, but I'm sure any other possible feelings she may have are eclipsed by pity. The one emotion I hate seeing in her eyes, but as long as she's here, I can live with it. Punishment or not, I send a prayer of gratitude to whoeever sent her back to me.
It's hot as hell in here, I'm finding it hard to breathe. Watching her isn't enough any more, I need to talk to her, let her know it's time to relieve her of this burden I've placed on her shoulders. I take a deep breath and walk around the desk towards her.
I stand and watch him. I'm trying to give the illusion that I'm doing my charts and hopefully I'm discrete enough that no one else notices, but I can't concentrate and instead find my eyes drawn to his face. He knows I'm watching him, I can tell, but I take his ignoring me as permission and continue. I'm not exactly sure why I'm silently observing him as he also pretends to work. The doctor part of me is looking for signs of fatigue and discomfort, but I guess the rest of me is doing it because I still can. We've both come to accept that he's dying and who knows how many more opportunities I'll have like this. I'm trying to store the memories while they're still good, God knows they're not going to get any better. Of the many scenarios I imagined returning home to, the last I would have come up with was having to watch him die. I didn't for a minute think things would be the same, I fully expected for him to get on with his life – I'm not that naïve, but this? I feel utterly helpless, unable to do anything for him, except be there if and when he needs me. But I'm not the one he should be confiding in. As much as I want to, it shouldn't be me comforting him in the middle of the night. Maybe I'm just the easy way out. Maybe it would have been better for everyone if I had never returned. Without me here he would be forced to tell all those he's leaving behind. It's not right that they don't know, they need time to prepare. But could I really live with some phone call in the middle of the night, a month or two down the line? No, I'm much too selfish for that. I wouldn't trade being here right now in a million years. I think perhaps something drew me back to Chicago now, after all this time. I was meant to make my peace with him, try to reconcile the past before it was too late.
I feel my eyes start to fill up slightly and have to look back down in order to blink them away. I can't look back up now, can't risk him seeing me like this, or anyone else for that matter. If he were to catch my eye now, I wouldn't be able to hide the pity and he'd see it. He deserves so much more than that. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I push an annoying strand of hair out my eyes and doodle aimlessly on a pad in front of me. What am I feeling right now? I'm not quite sure. I'm working on autopilot to some extent, just to remain functioning and appear normal to everyone else. Also I'd be no use to him If I'm a wreck. Emotionally, other than sorrow, I can't help but feel overwhelmed with regret. I really did love him back then so why the hell did I leave? I'm a coward, that's the long and short of it. I was too damn scared to give it a chance. He was my best friend, there was nothing I didn't know about him, we just…clicked. We had the potential to be amazing together, but if it hadn't worked, what then? I would have been left with nothing except the knowledge that if I couldn't make it with him, chances are true love doesn't really exist beyond fairytails. Looking back now, the reasoning that seemed so reasonable at the time is now flimsy at best. Had I found the love of my life in Arizona… definitely not! If I had gotten off that damn train would it end up any differently? Probably not, it had no doubt already taken hold by then, but it's very likely that the last five years could have been the happiest of my life. And I doubt the pain I will feel at losing him could get any worse than it will be – already is. But now it's too late. He's not mine and he's not well. Yet I can't help the fact that I'm falling for him again. I used to think that wondering "what if" had to be better than knowing failure. I couldn't have been more wrong. I had a real shot at love and I walked away. Joni Mitchell sure as hell called it right.
So now I'm left with no other option but to help him get through this and do my best to conceal any pity I feel for him, he would hate that. I send a prayer of thanks to whoever sent me back to him. It's really hot in here, I need some fresh air. I sense him approaching me and look up to finally meet his eyes.
"Mark," she smiled warmly as he reached her side.
"I could really use some air. Since you're getting about as much work done as I am, want to join me?"
"Sure. Why don't you head outside, I'll find someone to cover for us for a bit and meet you out there." She turned to go search for Luka..
"Susan?" His voice stopped her and she turned back round to face him.
"Hmm?"
"Thanks."
"Anytime."