I intended to post this chapter up a few days ago, but my weekend's been pretty hectic. This chapter is a little dull, but it's got a lot of substance to it. Next chapter isn't quite finished yet…actually, I only just started it. It may be awhile, but that gives everyone time to savor what is already written.

Also, I hadn't yet titled this chapter, so the title is a bit impromptu. Just a heads up.


Good News...And Bad News Too

You are pulled from the wreckage

Of your silent reverie.

You're in the arms of the angels.

May you find some comfort here.

The soft, sweet feminine voice drifted through Andrew's mind, reviving and stimulating his suspended thoughts. Upon opening his eyes, he was forced to shut them again. All he had seen was white, which stung his dilated pupils. Am I dead?

Hesitantly, Andrew slowly opened his eyes again, allowing his vision to sharpen and focus. Once he could distinguish objects again, Andrew saw that he was in a hospital room. That was when the various medical scents of latex, sterilization, medicine, and many other things hit his nasal cavity. Why had he not noticed these scents before?

"Oh, Andrew, my boy! That Heaven, you've waken. Your father and I were so worried!"

Before Andrew could register anything else, he was scooped into a surprisingly strong hug by his mother's small form, her pure blond hair ticking his puzzled face.

"Now, now, don't crowd the poor boy," came next the voice of Andrew's confidant blue-haired father as the older Russo entered the room with the nurse-on-duty.

Andrew's mother let go of her son and moved aside so the young nurse could check the boy's vitals. This ordeal took several minutes as she touched a few of Andrew's pressure points, chucking his pulse, breathing, blood pressure, and the computer reading of his brain activity. After what seemed to Andrew like days, the nurse righted herself and walked over to the Russo parents. Speaking loud enough for Andrew, from the hospital bed, to also hear, the nurse gave them all the report from her observations. "Andrew's vitals are stable. His condition has definitely improved. Brain activity looks good, but there is still a possibility for minor memory loss. No need to worry about that, though, because it will be normal, and temporary. I will go call the doctor now so he can provide a more extensive check and provide for you all a more intensive check and suggestion for the next steps."

The nurse exited the room, leaving Andrew with his parents. Curiosity filled the boy and he quickly asked, "Where is Mable? Which room is she in?"

There was a long pause as Andrew's parents tried to figure out what to say to their son. Andrew glanced between them, confused. Mr. Russo was always so confidant in everything he did, making up for the ditziness of Mrs. Russo. What was going on with them?

"On, Andrew…" Mrs. Russo began before a soft knock on the doorframe interrupted the moment.

Without waiting for a reply, the doctor entered the room. Just as the nurse had done, he checked over Andrew. However, this check was more extensive, taking double the time that the nurse's had. Once he felt confidant with his observations, he stepped back from the hospital bed.

Addressing all three in the room, he gave them his report. "I have nothing but good news for you all. Andrew will make a full recovery. Luckily, there was no brain damage. The coma was just a result of Andrew hitting his head with force. As Joy probably mentioned earlier, minor issues of memory loss may occur, but those are not worth stressing about too much. As for the next steps, I would like to keep Andrew here another night or two just to monitor his condition I personally think he will be fine, but I just want to make sure. Once Andrew is released, I do want him to take it easy for a week or two. In closing, Andrew will be back to himself by Christmas."

When he heard the name of the anticipated holiday, Andre tried to sit up straighter, but the jumble of wires set him back. "I'd like to hope I'd be better by Christmas," he spoke sarcastically, "That's like a month and a half away and I feel fine." He saw his parents glance between themselves. Why did they keep doing that? What were they not telling him?

"Actually, Andrew," the doctor started, pulling the day's newspaper over to show the boy, "Christmas is only a couple weeks away."

Andrew read the date printed on the paper. He reread it at least three more time, but he just couldn't understand it. Homecoming dance night had been a month and a half ago? How could he have been in a coma for a month and a half yet feel perfectly fine now?

Once that was all settled, the doctor exited to continue his duties, leaving Andrew alone with his parents once again. Andrew's impatience, a trait he had acquired from his father's side of the family, (of course, he'd pretty much acquired everything from that side) got the better of him and he inquired for answers. Looking both of his parents in the eyes, he demanded the truth and nothing but. "Tell me what really happened. Everything. Don't leave anything out. I want to know exactly what is going on."

There was a pause and the air between parents and son seemed to take on an electric charge. Finally, Mr. Russo spoke, "You remember the accident, right, Andrew?"

What kind of question was that? Andrew wondered. Of course he remember the accident. How could he possibly forget it?

At Andrew's nodded reply, his father continued. "We got a call…one that we never expected and one that we hope to never get again…'Mr. and Mrs. Russo, this is the police. We are sorry to inform you that there has been a tragic accident. Of the three passengers in the vehicle, two are presumed dead, including the driver. Your son is in critical condition and has been taken to the intensive care unit…'"

Mr. Russo kept talking, but Andrew stopped listening. Mable. Presumed dead. Those words played back through his mind over and over again. He didn't want to believe it. Another thought crossed Andrew's mind. He did not want to know the answer, but he blurted out the question before he could think any more about it. "When's the funeral?" he asked quickly, interrupting whatever his father was saying.

"Oh, Andrew, the funeral was a while ago now. We all had hoped you would be able to come, but Fate just didn't work that way," his mother replied, passing him a few pictures she had taken at the service.

Andrew looked through them, not believing that Mable was dead and that he had missed the funeral, even though that had been out of his control. "Closed casket?"

The body was never actually found," Andrew's father answered his son's question. "It was believed that…well, you wouldn't have wanted to know, son."

Andrew really wanted to believe that Mable was still alive, but his parents' words nagged at his mind, telling him to believe otherwise. He felt conflicted and this all mocked his usually controlled emotions.

A knock on the door startled the three, but the tension that had crept into the room remained, invisibly hanging over everyone's heads like an early morning haze. The nurse, who entered slowly, noticed this as she set down a plate of dinner for Andre. Nodding a quick acknowledgment to Andrew's parents, she left without a word.

Andrew slowly pulled off the cover that was trapping the steam of the food and look at what he had been brought. Grilled chicken in gravy with a side of peas and carrots. Fantastic…

Mr. and Mrs. Russo left and Andrew was alone with the "food" he had been brought. He did not want to eat, feeling guilty for surviving the accident.

Forcing himself to eat, he finished quickly and set the empty plate on the stand beside the hospital bed. Also on the stand were the pictures that his mother had given him. Andrew picked them up and flipped through them again. It still didn't seem real.

Feeling his eyes start to water, he set the pictures down again. Andrew hated crying. It made him feel weak. Shedding tears had always been a strong blow to his confidant attitude, the one that Mable had both loved and hated.

That last thought sent the tears flowing. He could not stop thinking about her. Why had she been the one to die? Why was I the only one spared and allowed to go on living? How am I ever going to survive without her in my life? It all just isn't fair.

Despite it being early in the evening, Andrew, tear tracks framing his face, cried himself to sleep that night.


So much death today. *sigh* I watched the new ep of Thundercats 2011 today (twice already and will be watching it more before next Saturday) and Lion-O died in that ep. Therefore, I felt that today was a good (maybe not the best word, but I guess it fits) day to post this…even though I intended to do it earlier.

I changed the ending of this a bit. Put more substance into Andrew's thoughts. Updates are going to slow down a lot now. I just started writing the next chapter and the semester is coming to an end. Everyone knows what that means…

I will talk with you again when the next chapter is released…or you could read any of my other stories. Then you may hear from me again sooner. ;)