The first transfusion helped some, pulling her away from the edge of death but she still couldn't be awakened. Marcus gave the order to bring the other person in from Millhaven to have on stand by. Lee and Kurdy were to go out and try to find where the ambush happened and who had laid the trap. He was groggy from the loss of blood but slept most of the effects off. He dreamed of the old Indian man who had visited him last time he had been in the medical ward.
His dream began with him waking in the spirit world where he sat up upon seeing the old man standing near him. Marcus looked about the room and saw six others standing around Mal's bed as if guarding her or were waiting for her end to come. Marcus looked back to the old man, "What are they doing?" he asked.
The old man seemed to look through Marcus but smiled a little, "It is up to the Great Spirit if she lives or dies. These warriors guard her soul until the decision is made. If the Great Spirit calls her to his lands beyond the clouds, then they will escort her there. If he wishes her to stay, they will simply continue their own journey until they are needed again." He was quiet as Marcus looked closer at the six standing around her.
Marcus rubbed his forehead. "When will they know if she is to live or die?" he asked.
The Indian shrugged, "It isn't for me to say but your strength now flows through her because of what you gave her to stave off the endless sleep. But it also depends upon her will to live. 'Moves as Lynx' has a big heart and has done many selfless things in her life for the good of all. But she lets none close to her other than in friendship for fear of loss such as she suffered before." He looked at Marcus then shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Marcus puzzled over this for some time. He wanted to ask more about what he meant but the Indian seemed to be fading. The old man spoke to him but as if from a great distance. "As the days grow longer, your time grows shorter until war is brought west. You have the advantage to choose your battleground. Do so wisely." As Marcus looked away and then back up, the old man was gone. He looked over and saw the six still standing around Mal.
He went over and slowly moved past them to her bedside. He knew he must be dreaming but he wanted to see this dream through. She lay silently on the bed she had been set out on. He slowly reached forward and touched her hand. He realized that he could feel it and when he went to pick it up, he saw that her physical hand was still on the bed. He guessed he had a hold of her spiritual hand. He leaned forward and kissed the back of it gently as he sat on the edge of the bed, not really physically affecting it.
He held her hand in his dream as he spoke to her, simply talking about his life since the Big Death and how they had survived underground all of this time. He spoke of his hopes and dreams for the future and the sorrow he felt for the mistakes he'd made along the way and the anger of things he had no control over and knew it.
Finally he spoke of what he hoped for his own future, things he'd never told anyone, hardly even admitting them to him self. She remained still, slowly breathing in and out as the distant beep of the heart monitor registered her vital signs. Once he had told her what was inside of him, he remained quiet, sitting for what seemed like hours at her side, simply holding her hand, gently caressing the fingers as if he would in real life.
He felt himself grow tired and he finally stood, leaning forward and kissing her forehead gently and then he hesitated for a second before he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. He finally stepped away from the bed and stepped back towards his own. The six still stood around her bed, the one with the coyote pelt and head for a headdress looked at him and nodded slightly before focusing to the center of the bed. He gave a slight shiver at the thought of them escorting her to the Great Spirit. But it was not his call. He finally returned to his own body and slipped back into a deep sleep, dark and without emotions except one. Hope.
*****
He woke slowly the next day, groggy and light headed. The medical crew was soon there with breads, fruits and a serving of cooked beans for protin. He tried to eat but his eyes kept going to where Mal still lay unconscious. She seemed pale, her body limp against the bed and blankets. He couldn't see the six spirits he saw the night before but he was sure he could almost sense them. No decision had been made yet.
Finally when he felt a little better, he got up and moved over to sit on the edge of her bed like he did the night before in his dreams. He gently picked up her hand and rubbed the back of it with her palm between his fingers, slowly stroking each finger. He didn't feel up to talking so he simply remained with her until he felt himself beginning to doze off again. One of the nurses came in and led him back over to his bed, pulling the sheets over him before she left the room.
His dreams were fitful, strange and unconnected. Little pieces of this or that memory filtered in and then back out as if he was trying to puzzle something out for himself. He couldn't make heads or tails of it but it was frustrating none the less. Upon waking again, he found the table next to him layed out with more bread, pasta and vegetables. He wasn't feeling very hungry but he ate anyway. They had kept him hooked up to a saline solution drip the whole time he'd been recovering so he was feeling better the second day though there had been no change in Mal.
His blood work was checked and Aaron asked him if he felt up to giving another transfusion. This one might make it harder for him to recover so quickly. He only nodded and went to sit next to Mal's bedside as they hooked the two of them up with tubes and needles. Marcus squirmed a bit. He hated needles. The blood began to flow slowly from his arm into hers. He remained still through the whole thing while they constantly checked his blood pressure and hers. He could only hope that this was helping her.
He dozed off shortly before they were done, feeling lethargic and somewhat muddled. He didn't feel them unhook the transfusion machine or that they managed to get him out of the chair and back into his bed. The darkness was too deep at the moment to encourage him to try and swim out of it. He felt lost, alone and vulnerable as he never had before in his life.
