Title: My Beloved
Chapter 1 – Little Brown Ducks
Author: GataChica
Rating: K+
Warnings: character death
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: I get nothing but personal satisfaction from this, and I own absolutely nothing.
Summary: Tragedy strikes the Mallard family. Please forgive me This story occurs approximately five years after "What Mrs. Mallard Said" (which someday will be finished, I promise!)
The twins, Gail and Vicky, giggled as they splashed water on their mother. Abby sang, "Just a little brown duck, swimming in the water," while she soaped Vicky, and "Just a little brown duck, doing what she oughta," when she soaped Gail – who actually wasn't "doing what she oughta;" instead she was blowing bubbles in the water. This meant that half her body was in the water, making it difficult for Abby to apply the soap.
But she couldn't help laughing at them. "You guys are just too cute," she proclaimed, looking fondly at their blue eyes and their dark brown hair that was not quite long enough to curl. "You look like your father," she added, and she smiled the secret, glowing smile that always made an appearance when she thought about her husband, Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard.
"Dada!" said Vicky, clapping her hands.
"Yes, that's right! Daddy!"
Abby finished their bath quickly, then pulled the drain plug and lifted the two toddlers out of the water. She wrapped each in a warm, terrycloth robe and had just finished diapering them when she heard their 5-year-old brother, Donny, yelling frantically as he ran towards the bathroom. "Mama! Mama!"
Alarmed, she stepped out of the bath so he could see her. "Donny, what is it?" she spoke and signed simultaneously. Donny had been born with a severe hearing impairment.
He was running so fast he barely stopped before hitting her. "Dad," he said, panting heavily, "Dad."
"What about Dad?" Abby asked worriedly, corralling the twins as they wandered out of the bathroom.
"Fell down," Donny said. "9-1-1," he added, signing the numbers.
"Oh, God, no," Abby murmured, her heart sinking. She ran for the nearest phone and dialed 911. "Where is Dad?" she asked Donny as she waited for an answer.
"Garage," the boy signed. He was still working on his 'g' sounds in speech therapy.
Moving faster than she ever had in her life, she placed Gail and Vicky in their playpen and ran to the garage.
"911, what is your emergency?"
Abby spotted Ducky lying on his side next to their Jeep, and was gratified when he looked at her and tried to speak. But his right arm lay strangely flat against him, and the right side of his face was slack. "My husband collapsed; I think he had a stroke."
"Is he breathing?"
"Yes, he's conscious but his right side is limp." She had reached Ducky and he signed her name with his left hand. She took it in her hands and brought it to her lips. "Please send an ambulance as soon as possible!"
"It's on its way," the dispatcher reassured her.
"We're in the garage," Abby added.
"Stay on the line until the EMT's arrive, okay?"
"I will, but I need to get someone to watch my children." She thought fast. She didn't want to leave Ducky, but she needed her cell phone to call a neighbor. "I'll be right back," she told him. She thought he nodded just a bit.
"Wish I had it in my pocket," she murmured to herself as she rushed into the kitchen. She had taken it off to bathe the twins – knowing their propensity for splashing – but where? Fortunately she found it on the counter near the microwave. She speed dialed Mrs. Townshend as she hurried back to the garage.
Everything seemed to be happening at once. Abby had just spoken to Mrs. Townshend when the ambulance arrived. She opened the garage door, then flitted back and forth between Ducky and the children until the neighbor arrived. All three children were excited to see Mrs. Townshend (who always brought them treats); this was good because Donny was already frightened and the twins had begun to pick up on the tension as well.
Ducky had lost consciousness and the EMT's were giving him oxygen as they rolled the gurney to the ambulance. Abby followed, and insisted on riding in the ambulance with her love; they tried to stop her but she was very insistent, and they found that Ducky would wake to the sound of her voice. Plus, she knew how to stay out of their way.
The ride to the hospital seemed to last a terribly long time. Abby held his hand to her chest and smoothed his hair, feeling a huge lump in her throat. She wanted to cry, but even more she wanted to stay strong for him. He blinked often, sometimes closing his eyes for a minute or more, but for the most part he stayed awake and kept his eyes on hers.
Finally they arrived and Ducky was whisked into the emergency room with Abby in tow. There was another fight as the nurses tried to separate her from him, but she was so frantic they eventually gave in. She stood by his side while they gave him fluids and Activase, a drug to break up clots in the blood vessels of the brain. They were well within the 3-hour window when the drug could be effective.
Abby couldn't help but cry when he finally fell into a natural sleep in the ICU. In spite of the positive prognosis given to her by the doctors, she had a dreadful feeling in her gut that this time there would be no happy ending.