A/N: Still waiting desperately to see "If You Leave" It's not fair that Marco and Dylan aren't even in the preview. Grr. Please read and review.
…Each affects the other and the other affects the next, and the world is full of stories, but the stories are all one.
--The Five People You Meet in Heaven
"Marco," said Stephen, raising his hand to brush the hair out of Marco's face. "I'm sure it wasn't his fault. He didn't want to dessert you."
Marco hadn't stopped crying since the first tear fell, but it seemed that with each word, the crying became worse. "I'm still angry."
"Why?" Stephen asked, trying to show Marco that his anger at Dylan wasn't needed in the situation. Stephen knew nothing about the situation, but he assumed Dylan hadn't put himself in the coma.
Marco shrugged. "Guilt," he answered.
"Oh?" said Stephen. "You feel guilty? That makes you angry at him?"
"I'm sorta just," he sniffled, wiping more tears off his cheeks, "throwing my emotions out there; they don't connect with each other."
"Okay," said Stephen, nodding that he understood. "So, you feel guilty," he repeated.
Marco nodded. "I wasn't there."
The ghost of a smile graced Stephen's features, the first in the whole conversation. "It's not your fault."
Marco shrugged again, falling silent, but Stephen was glad he'd said anything at all. There wasn't much else to say. Stephen didn't even know Dylan, so felt that any words of comfort would have been hardly any help. He simply comforted Marco by holding him close, giving him the touch Marco had been denied for too long.
"Have you talked about it since?" Stephen asked, trying to help as much as possible.
Marco shook his head. Stephen couldn't see it, but he felt it. "That's not good."
"How am I supposed to talk about it?" Marco asked, defensive again, pulling out of Stephen's grasp. Stephen quickly pulled him back.
"First of all, if you need comfort, take it. Don't move away from me, Marco. I'm trying to help you. Second of all," he waited for Marco to cautiously move back into his arms, "tell me what happened…maybe you'll feel better."
"It won't work," Marco said, without a second thought.
"Try," Stephen pressed.
Marco sighed, figuring he had already destroyed his pictures, cried his heart out, and acted like a lunatic. What more could he lose?
"I'd never been so scared in my life when they explained what happened to me. They told me, 'your boyfriend was in a terrible accident…' and I didn't care to hear the rest, but no, they went on," Marco grabbed a pillow, and was currently trying to make the defenseless pillow feel his pain by punching it into oblivion. "He has extreme internal bleeding." Punch "I didn't want to know." Punch "He's in critical condition." Punch. "I didn't want to know." Punch. "His brain activity is slow decreasing." Punch. "Didn't want to know." Punch. "He's lost a lot of blood." Punch. "I definitely didn't want to know."
Marco had resorted to using the scissors in the bottom drawer next to the couch to cut slits into the poor pillow. "Mr. Del Rossi, we want you to be aware before you go in there," Snip, "that there's a good chance," Snip "he won't wake up." The pillow was now left in pieces in Marco's lap.
"That," said Marco, "I didn't want to hear. The doctor could have punched me into a coma, and that would have been better. In fact, he could have killed me, and it would have pleased me. Then, when they took Dylan off the machines, we could be together. But, no…they didn't hit me…they simple took me into a hospital room where I was met with my boyfriend…pale as a ghost, looking almost dead. At that moment, I wished he had died." He took a deep breath. "That part, I've never told anyone."
"Did it help?" Stephen asked, overwhelmed by his tale.
Marco shook his head. "I feel worse than before! I wished he died. I'm a horrible person, Stephen."
"No," Stephen said quickly, taking Marco's hands in his own. "You are not."
"And now, the thought of taking him off the machines seems terrible. Yet, at the beginning, I wanted him off."
"Maybe," said Stephen, taking a moment to ponder it, "that's why you don't want him off. You feel horrible because you wanted it to be over at the beginning, so it's your way of repenting…begging him to hold on."
"No," Marco shook his head. "No, I just want him back."
"Okay," Stephen tried a different approach. "You've gotten used to him being on the machines. Your faith has risen since the beginning shock of it, so you want to hold on to something."
"Stephen, stop trying to reason with it!" Marco yelled, pulling his hands back. "I don't want a reason; I want him."
Stephen decided to stop talking. Marco didn't want to hear it anymore, and all he did seem to want to do was break out in constant anger and pace the floor. Marco's faith had risen and fallen in the past year and a half, and he was giving up. It was time, Marco decided.
Dylan would live or die, but there would be no more machines. Paige was right. They would take him off the machines. If he awoke, he was meant to be with Marco. If he didn't, Marco's life had to change forever, but everything happens for a reason, right?
…………………………………………………………………………..
"You want me to sign the papers?" Paige asked, astonished.
Marco nodded. "You were going to do it anyway," he explained.
"I suppose…" she murmured, following Marco into the door of the hospital. "If we go there, and do this now, there's no turning back, Marco. You understand that?"
Once again, he nodded. "Where's Julia?" he asked, trying to avoid the subject.
"At her father's," she waved her hand, showing she knew what he was doing. "Stephen helped you decide this is what you wanted?" she tilted her head to the side, trying to get the facts.
"No, I decided. He just happened to be there."
Paige walked slowly up to the Elizabeth's desk, trying to smile at the pleasant woman. Marco, too, tried to smile right behind her. They both failed.
"Miss. Michalchuk," she said sweetly, "or I've heard, through the grapevine, it may soon be Stevenson, hmm?" she giggled lightly.
"It may be," Paige replied, uncomfortable. She knew how much the marriage talk upset her friend.
"So, a visit?" she asked, reverting to the more acceptable topic.
"Well, not exactly. I—I just…I want…" Paige wasn't able to get the words out so easily.
Elizabeth frowned. She seemed to know what Paige meant. "The dotted line is just waiting for your signature, honey."
"Yes, thank you," she breathed, glad not to have to voice it.
Elizabeth fished through the drawers, looked through some files, both computer files and folders, finally finding the right one.
"Here," said Elizabeth, "here, here…we already went over this, didn't we?" she asked.
"Yes," said Paige. "Can I have the pen?" she asked calmly.
Elizabeth handed over the pen, grateful to be ending this misery of the Michalchuk family. She felt it was time to get it over with.
Paige sighed, holding the pen tightly in her left hand, ready to write. (A/N: I don't know. She strikes me as a lefty. Lol) "Okay," she whispered to herself, preparing for the ink to hit the paper. "Come on, Paige."
Her hand shook as it neared the paper. "Stop it!" she screamed hysterically at her hand. To a bystander who could have been watching Paige and Marco, the two seemed completely insane. Marco begged to have his prized possessions broken, while Paige screamed at her own hand.
However, the shaking did seem involuntary. "I just…I want to sign the damn papers! I do! For Christ's sake…"
"Maybe," said Marco, touching her shoulder lightly, "you need a moment."
"If Dylan dies," Paige said suddenly, appearing Nonchalant about what she was implying, "will you be with Stephen?"
"No," he answered honestly. "I'll move on with my life, but not with my love life. Many times I came in here and promised him he was my only one. I can't lie to him, Paige."
"Good," she answered. "Stephen is so not your type," she flipped her hair over her shoulder, going back to the problem at hand, but the problem was her hand…literally.
The shaking had stopped, but now she'd taken to staring simply at what was in front of her, refusing to do it.
"Maybe Marco's right, honey," said Elizabeth, though she fully supported the idea of the signing. "You're just not ready to let go. Maybe--"
"I'm ready!" she screamed, sick of the emotional crap. She turned around, looking at all the nervous people in the waiting room. Just seeing their faces made her sick. She decided that after Dylan got out of the hospital, (whether by death or by release) she was never going to set foot in there again. That was a promise.
She turned back to Elizabeth, laughing nervously at the commotion she'd caused. She put her pen to the paper in the act of destroying. With this little pen, (who, by the way, had done nothing wrong purposely. It was simply a pen) she could destroy herself, her father, (though he'd given her permission to do it) her friends, (mainly Marco) and most obviously, her brother.
It's funny how one never thinks of a pen as a weapon until put in a situation like this. It was the first time since making her decision days before that she felt like a murderer. She didn't even know how to work a gun, or wasn't capable of holding a knife, but all she had to do was sign, and they did the dirty work for her. All they had to do was pull the plug. It was a big decision to make as quickly as she was planning on making it.
"Elizabeth," she barely whispered, "I need to see him one more time."
"Paige, honey…if he is to…pass on," she said slowly, "he won't right away. You may gave time--"
"Please!" she did not want to scream anymore that day. "Let me see my brother one more time. If he wakes up, I won't be here. I'm never coming back to the hospital after my pen touches this paper. One more time," she said softly, before turning down the hallway to do just that.
Marco stood awkwardly with Elizabeth, waiting for Paige's return. He was angry with her for making him wait. The longer he waited, the more second thoughts he had. He seemed to be angry with a lot of people lately. Surprisingly, Paige didn't take all that long. Apparently, she'd had no speech or anything. It was short, sweet, and to the point.
She walked back up to the desk, picked up the pen, and signed her name to every spot it was needed.
"Stay with him as long as you need," she said to Marco. "If he comes out of it, call me. If he doesn't, call me," she spoke calmly; obviously she was glad it was over. "Like I said, I'm not staying here a minute longer."
"Wait," Marco grabbed her wrist as she turned around, "stay for five minutes after they…do it, please?" he didn't want to have to beg.
She sighed, looking again at the jittery people in the waiting room. "Five minutes," she stressed. He nodded.
Four doctors, and the main one (Doctor Jennifer) working on Dylan's case came into the room. Many looked satisfied that it was finally being done. Paige thought she was fine, but when it was pulled, she ran from the room.
A/N: A day later, aren't you proud of me? Lol. I hope you liked it. Please review!
