Broken
Chapter 3
A stunned silence met the elderly doctor, it was more or less what he had expected, such information usually took a little while to register. Sam knew it wouldn't last, that after the initial shock there would be questions no doubt accompanied by some highly charged emotions, he was ready for both, at least he hoped he was.
Disbelief quickly appeared on both the Lancers' faces.
"No!" Johnny breathed, his blue eyes willing the doctor to take back his words.
"You could be wrong." Murdoch insisted. He'd never known the old saw bones be wrong before but there was always a first time.
"I could be and I truly hope I am. Some might say I've jumped the gun a little here but I believe its best you know now what you are likely to be facing. If I am right, Scott's world is going to come crashing down around him. You are going to have to help him accept and adjust to a life changing disability. You won't be able to do that unless you have accepted it yourself."
"We'll cross that bridge should we come to it!" The patriarch growled "You said you'd removed his…his…?"
"Spleen." Sam answered eyeing his old friend thoughtfully before going on to expand a little on the surgery he had just performed, adding a gentle but clear warning of possible complications. Satisfied he had relayed all the information he could he crossed his arms in a determined manner "I know this has come like a bolt from the blue, it's a lot to take in and I can understand you not wanting to believe the worst but there is no hiding from this Murdoch. I've always believed forewarned is forearmed, that said I'm no despair monger. I'm just…well in this case I'm just trying to help some dear friends ready themselves for a possible crisis."
Solemnly nodding his understanding Murdoch rose to his feet "I'd like to see my son now."
"Of course." The doctor's gaze fell on the youngest Lancer, hoping he had managed to get through to him too. The young man's countenance was now as grim as his father's. Johnny was also ominously quiet, Sam knew the boy well enough to know that such a brooding silence was not a good sign, not where this Lancer was concerned. Deciding it best to leave things as they were for now he got to his feet. "Come on through. May's sitting with him."
May Jenkins was Sam's wife, a plump, rosy cheeked, delightfully good humoured woman. This kind, caring soul had had no formal training but had become an integral part of her husband's medical practice. Nursing and comforting all those in need of such and at the same time raising their three daughters.
Through compassion filled eyes May watched the Lancers enter the recovery room, her heart going out to both men. A friend of twenty six years standing May had no qualms about wrapping her arms around the tall rancher, words of reassurance slipping easily off her tongue. Murdoch had returned the hug gratefully accepting the comfort offered but Johnny had stiffened noticeable as she had hugged him; he had avoided eye contact too. The cold response worried May a little, of all the Lancers Johnny was the most sensitive; she was going to have to keep a particularly close eye on him.
"Sit here, beside the bed." May ushered the two men towards the strategically positioned chairs, waiting until they were both seated before she addressed them again "Scott isn't likely to wake for a good few hours yet, when he does you'll be able to talk to him, but not for long, he'll tire easily." Glancing at her husband who had remained standing in the doorway she added "We'll leave you alone a spell, we're just in the other room if you need anything."
There was a rustle of skirts, a soft click as the door closed and then suddenly the room was silent. The silence was heavy almost suffocating and it soon proved unbearable for one of the occupants, Murdoch's first thoughts spewed from his mouth "He's so pale."
Johnny could only nod. Like his father he was gazing intently at the sleeping form that lay unnaturally still on the bed. The blond hair was uncharacteristically tousled; the handsome face drawn and a deathly wan. The young man looked so very frail and helpless; it was almost like they were looking at a stranger. A sheet was drawn up to Scott's waist leaving his arms and heavily bandaged torso exposed.
Clearing his throat Murdoch leaned forward in his chair, reaching out and wrapping his hand around Scott's lax fingers he squeezed gently. "I'm here son. Johnny too. All you have to do is rest and concentrate on getting well, we'll soon have you back on your…your" The word stuck in Murdoch's throat, he was horrified at what he had been about to say. Shaken he turned towards his younger son only to find him on his feet and heading towards the door.
"Johnny?" His plea went unheeded and Murdoch could only listen to the hurriedly retreating footsteps and the closing of the outer door.
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"Whisky!" Johnny demanded ignoring the barkeeps friendly greeting. Snatching up the bottle and glass nervously provided him he stalked to the rear of the saloon. As he tossed back a mouthful of the fiery liquid a stern voice assailed his ears.
"That isn't going to help!"
Johnny swallowed the bitter retort he was about to make, his immense respect for Sam Jenkins serving to temper his inner rage. As the older man slipped into the chair opposite him the youngest Lancer groaned inwardly, the last thing he wanted to hear right now was one of the doctor's sermons. Sam was as skilled with words as he was with a scalpel, and although aware of that fact Johnny was totally unprepared for Sam's opening gambit.
"You know your brother isn't going to be able to run away from this!"
Wounded and equally shamed Johnny hung his head. Not only had he been running from the unthinkable he was attempting to hide from it too, in a bottle.
He'd never thought himself a coward before but it seemed he was. His self loathing deepened.
The familiar voice sliced into his reverie intuitively hitting the nail squarely on the head. "This isn't about you Johnny! This is and has to be about Scott."
Seconds later the doctor was exiting the saloon, a forlorn Johnny watching him go. As Sam stepped into the street Johnny's eyes settled on his empty glass and the bottle of liquid comfort.
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Hushed voices drifted into the room, neither one belonged to his younger son and Murdoch's heart sank a little further. When Sam had volunteered to go after the boy the patriarch had been certain of his return. Sam Jenkins didn't beat about the bush and Johnny normally responded to such candour, but not this time it seemed! Sam had returned alone.
It had been obvious to all concerned that Johnny was eating himself up with guilt. As his father, Murdoch could sympathise but Sam wasn't having any of it. As compassionate a man as he was he was no coddler. He believed Johnny needed to hear a few home truths; obviously the brunet had been in no mood to listen.
If he hadn't been so afraid of Scott waking and needing him Murdoch would have hunted Johnny down himself. He felt torn, he'd promised to be there for both sons but his youngest was making it difficult for him to be there for either one. Not that that was his intention of course, he just wasn't thinking straight and by now he probably wasn't thinking much at all, his mind too befuddled with drink to reason and more importantly feel.
The voices fell silent; a familiar soft tread approached the door, the rancher didn't need to look behind him to know who had just walked into the room.
"I can't do this alone John. I need you. Scott is going to need you too."
"I know." Came the softly spoken reply.
As his son sat down beside him Murdoch patted the younger mans thigh reassuringly "We will get through this Johnny. I promise."
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The two men had passed the ensuing hours with small talk, chewing over ranch business and local news. Sam had examined his patient at regular intervals mercifully able to reassure father and son that Scott's condition remained stable. The doctor's wife had provided them with a hot meal and a constant supply of coffee, her friendly chatter proving a welcome diversion.
Stars were shinning in the firmament before Scott began to show any signs of coming to. As the young man stirred his father called his name encouragingly. The blue eyes finally fluttered open the blond gazing at his surroundings in confusion.
"What am I doing here?" The weakly spoken words were accompanied by a grimace.
"You were trampled by a horse…" Murdoch began gently
"Only the one?" Scott groaned not quite convinced. It felt like he'd been stomped on by at least ten!
"It was the black stallion. The one we were chasing…remember?" Johnny ventured quietly.
"A black stallion?" Such a creature did sound vaguely familiar; an image formed in the blond's minds eye and soon the day's events were replaying in his head "He led us a merry dance!"
"Yeah." Johnny whispered.
Suddenly confused Scott challenged his brother "But he got away…didn't he?"
"We thought he had but..." Johnny paused and looked towards his father questioningly.
The rancher seized the opportunity to intervene, suddenly wary of Scott's reaction should he remember the actual attack. "I think that's enough for now son. You're exhausted, go on back to sleep."
The blond nodded meekly, he was tired, unbelievably tired, and content to be an obedient son. Heavy eyelids drifted shut but as they did so another image filled his mind, forcing his eyes open with its clarity. His face clouding over with concern Scott demanded of his sibling "Are you alright?"
Forcing down his emotions the younger man nodded "Yeah, I'm just fine. Thanks to you."
TBC
Molly