*** Time to catch Mary up. Now that she's awake, we need to check in with her experience so the story can proceed. I'm so glad you are all enjoying so far! ***
May it be the shadows call
Will fly away
May it be you journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun
---May It Be, Enya
It felt like a red hot zipper pulled from her gut through her back and she was stunned…then falling backwards with no thought to stopping herself.
The ground was hard and she gasped once before closing her eyes as the pain set in. Limbs paralyzed with the shock, Mary could only helplessly listen to the chaos around her as she burned from the inside out.
"Mary! Mary!" Dershowitz was calling her name as he approached, then talking quickly as he radioed for help.
Many hands touching her and many voices speaking but she could not respond…could not even think. The burning had become cold and was creeping outward. She was scared. Scared because she somehow knew the coldness was consuming her and if she succumbed there would be no coming back.
"Marshall, I need you!" A desperate cry from her subconscious mind as the blackness descended.
Light behind her eyelids as awareness again intruded on the silence. Someone talking in her ear and she tried to concentrate through the roaring in her mind. Marshall.
"…not time for you to go. Let them help you. Hang on…"
The voice suddenly gone again and she wanted to shout for him. Jostling movement and pain as she was moved onto another surface with more hands tugging at her and her head turned and extended backwards. Garbled and disjointed words, but not Marshall this time.
"…Thirty eight year old female, through and through GSW to the abdomen in hemorrhagic shock with profound blood loss. Tachy at 138, BP 80/44, CPR en route with two amps of epi, unable to intubate. LOC at the scene, pupils equal and reactive, otherwise unresponsive…"
"Oh my God, it hurts…it hurts…it hurts…." she wanted to tell them to stop and wait. They were moving too fast and now she couldn't breathe. Words, phrases in voices she didn't understand and no one was explaining anything, no one was helping her. Something in her mouth, gagging her, and Mary was suffocating but could do nothing but silently beg for it to stop as the world faded to black again.
Floating now, Mary sighed as her mind quieted and the burning coldness drifted away. Free.
It looked like the Jersey Shore, but there wasn't a soul to be seen in any direction.
The Atlantic lapped at the sand under her feet; the warm, foamy waves caressing her ankles before receding back into the ocean, and Mary walked towards the horizon with no direction in mind.
Shells…thousands of shells decorated the sand and glistened as they beckoned her to examine them for hidden treasure.
Kneeling down, Mary picked up a gracefully curved shell of ivory iridescence and ran her fingers lightly over the surface as the waves continued to hiss around her. No need to hurry, no sense of time passing, she turned the ornament over in her hands and admired its perfection.
"Mary," her father's voice behind her drew her attention away from the shell, "It's time to go back."
She didn't turn around to see him, but stood and gazed out upon the waves while considering his words. They had no draw on her, just words floating away on the breeze and she continued to walk towards the horizon.
"Mare."
Her steps halted as she heard her name.
"Come on…" his voice was slow and soft and Mary turned around to look at him.
Marshall smiled and held out his hand, "Come home."
She stepped towards him.
Searing pain dragging her back to semi-awareness in a world full of confusion. Still immobile, still blind but able to breathe now.
"…We got a stable rhythm back, but keep the epi ready, she's getting bradycardic. Keep the fluids wide open and give her two more units uncrossed. Get some levophed on board for that pressure and, Goddammit , somebody do something about that wound! She's spilling everything we give her onto the floor…"
She didn't want to feel anymore, didn't want to hear anymore, "I'm just going to wait for Marshall" her last thought before allowing night to fall.
********
"But, Daddy, I want the red flowers!" the little, blond girl tugged at her father's hand to show him the desired arrangement.
"Princess, your mommy likes the white ones and it's her birthday." His eyes were amused.
Mary put her hands on her hips and tilted her head, "Daddy…I like the red ones. And you love me best, right?"
The man chuckled and reached down to tickle the little girl, "I love you more than all the flowers in the whole world!"
They walked home with two arrangements…one red and one white.
Three weeks later the little girl cried as her mother threw the wilted flowers into the street her daddy had driven down to never return. Mary never had red flowers in her house again.
Mary could hear herself breathing and wondered why it was so dark and quiet…listening. A rustle of pages turning then a quiet murmur that lured her attention and she tried to make out the words.
""She came of the highest landed gentry, yet she was not noble; she was gracious and pure and charitable, of a blameless life and character, insomuch that in these regards was she peer of the best lady in the land."…"
"Seriously, Marshall… 'gracious, pure and charitable'?. You certainly aren't reading my personnel file." Mary tried to listen more but drifted back into her own breathing.
*****
Mary hated the Father-Daughter Dance posters. She hated everything about this new school, but when the posters began to appear it became a special level of hell for her. She tore two down before ending up in the principle's office and was given a lecture on respect for other people's property and vandalism.
"They haven't seen vandalism yet." she thought.
"Hey, Skank!" the catcall came from behind her as she glared at a new poster and her veins began to race with adrenaline. The boy had singled her out since day one and she was in no mood to deal with him today. Mary ignored him and turned to walk away.
He stepped in front of her, leering, "So…you gonna bring your Daddy to the dance?" the word 'Daddy' was drawn out lewdly.
"You'll never father anything if you don't get the fuck out of my way, douchebag."
The boy was bigger than her, but that had never stopped her before and she stood her ground.
"Your daddy is probably your uncle too, huh? Does he diddle you too?" he reached out to grope her breast.
Mary decided to vandalize his face.
Hot. Stuffy. Mary's throat hurt and her head ached…her whole body ached and breathing was hard. She wanted to ask for some Tylenol but still couldn't move. Coughing, and the pain hit again making her wince. "I can't breathe!" she panicked and tried to reach the object blocking her mouth and throat. A cool hand restrained her and voices murmured while she considered how to escape.
Slowly the need to move faded and the urge to cough died down and she relaxed while drifting on the edge of sleep, trying not to completely give in as one voice continued speak near her and she wanted to listen. Memorizing the words to keep her going.
"…I miss you… I'm going to fight for you…stand by your side…I love you…"
******
The woman stared at the sleeping man in the hospital bed and was sure she wouldn't have the strength to take another step closer to him as fear consumed her. So afraid that if she touched him he would disappear and she with him. He was her anchor…kept her from flying off the planet and suffocating in an airless void.
Her trembling fingers gently touched his hair and she closed her eyes in relief as he was real beneath her hand, solid and warm and alive. She rested her forehead against his and noticed a tear fall onto his cheek. Hers. She had cried many tears onto this man over the years, and he onto her. It was almost like pouring a little bit of your soul into another person for them to keep.
She had given him a lot to keep and all he ever asked for was more.
Everything was blurry and her eyes felt dry and unused. Mary blinked a few times and tried to understand what she was seeing and hearing. White ceiling in a darkened room, machines near the bed…she was in a bed. But this wasn't her house or her bed. Her arms and legs were leaden and she had to concentrate very hard to move even her fingers.
Why was she so tired? Where was this place and why were there so many objects on her…on her face? Almost becoming panicky again with the sense of choking, Mary gradually realized she was breathing with relative ease and it wasn't worth spending the energy to remove whatever was in her mouth.
A small sound to her right brought her gaze down and she stared at the figure sitting in slumber next to her bed, relief spreading through her as she recognized her partner.
"Marshall! Marshall, wake up." She tried to think him awake but it didn't work.
Mary needed him to wake up and could just see his hand resting on the bed at the edge of her vision. Putting serious thought into movement, she inched her hand over to his and pinched one of his fingers within hers, pulling slightly. The small action produced the desired result and she breathed a little faster as his eyes opened. It was like coming home after a long and dreadful trip, a calm and comforting feeling to fall into. She poured all her questions and worries into her relieved gaze.
"Mary…are you awake? Can you see me?" He looked surprised, scared and full of hope all at the same time as he gripped her hand.
Her slow nod made him smile so big that she thought she could actually feel the warmth of it caress her. Marshall laughed and his hand went to her hair while she smiled back as best she could. Mary had to touch him to make sure he was real, and she made the monumental effort to place two, trembling fingertips on his cheek. The look in his eyes was intense, but she was too groggy and confused to interpret it.
Someone else by the bed now and Mary slowly looked over. A woman with a kind smile greeted her and asked her to blink her eyes. It was an odd request, but the woman looked so hopeful she tried to follow her direction as best she could, then looked back at Marshall for reassurance.
"That's my girl." The phrase always caused her to tingle a little bit, though she'd never admit it, and this time it encouraged her to focus on what the woman was saying again. While slowly following directions, Mary realized the woman was a nurse…her nurse. Why was she in the hospital? What happened?
Her back hurt and she shifted her weight to relieve it only to suddenly attempt to gasp with the knifelike pain that shot through her midsection. The thing in her throat made her gag and she coughed, only sufficing to increase the amount of pain radiating through her torso and Mary was suddenly overwhelmed with unpleasant sensations. Grabbing Marshall's hand for help, she could only squeeze her eyes shut as her body was wracked with coughs.
Ever so slowly, the coughing subsided as her limbs again began to tingle and suffuse with warmth. She couldn't hold Marshall's hand anymore and mourned the loss of his comfort as she slipped back under the blanket of darkness.
*** A disjointed and terrifying experience, I can only imagine. Random memories and odd sensations would make the whole thing dreamlike. I can only beg for reviews ;) Please keep them coming!! ***
***Marshall was reading from A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain. ***
