"Well, I managed to get in touch with Dawn, and she's going to get the next flight she can straight down."
Kirsten nodded weakly. "I'll get the guest room set up then, she'll probably need somewhere to stay."
Sandy nodded in agreement and breathed out heavily. His next task was a visit to Marissa's room, something all the Cohens had come to face with much trepidation. Physically, Marissa's body was slowly healing. However, the emotional injuries were clear, not just because of the constant crying and the things that Marissa said; most noticeable was the fact that Marissa's eyes were dull and lifeless; the sparkle was completely gone from them and the only time they glistened was when fresh tears formed.
Sandy was shocked when he entered the room to see that Marissa was smiling.
Seeing Sandy standing there, clearly dumbfounded, Marissa grinned up at him and answered his silent question. "They said they would let me see Ryan today; its only for a couple of minutes, but at least I get to see him."
Sandy forced a smile, albeit a weak one, back at her. "That's err...thats...great, Marissa." What the heck am I meant to say? Telling her about Ryan's condition is nothing compared to seeing him...realising even more how serious the situation is. Will this help her get better? Because there's a niggle there telling me that seeing him, visualizing how bad things actually are, will send her further in the wrong direction. I guess if this is what she wants though, then we shouldn't stand in the way. Sandy brushed a hand furtively through his hair, whilst Marissa looked on.
He has no idea how much this means to me...none of them do. They probably think that I don't understand how badly he's hurt, but I do; I saw him when he saved me, I knew then that it was bad. And I know that it will probably rip my heart in two to see him there, hurting, knowing that it has been made so much worse by me. But I have to see for myself that he's alive - at least for the moment. I have to see him before its too late. I have to be able to thank him for what he did; I need a chance to say all those things I never said and always should have.
Marissa was wheeled slowly into the room by a nurse, her eyes clamped shut. She wanted to be alone in this moment. So many conflicting emotions were flying through her head; excitement that she could finally see Ryan, guilt caused by the knowledge that because she was here, he was there, longing to see him again and fear that he wouldn't stick around much longer.
"You're only allowed a few minutes with him; I'll be back in soon to collect you," the nurse said in hushed tones.
Marissa nodded and kept her eyes clenched tightly until she heard the click of the door behind her. Taking a deep breath she pried her eyes open and immediately blinked back tears at the sight in front of her.
Ryan Atwood was broken.
Her rock, her knight in shining armour, the one dependable in her life, was broken. His lifeless body lay there on pristeen white sheets which highlighted the grey, sallow complexion on his face. Most of his body was swathed in bandages or darkened by bruises. His room was filled with countless machines that all made worrying noises and were attached to him in various places.
Edging closer to his bed, Marissa took a tiny amount of comfort in seeing the slow, slight raising of his chest. His delicate blue eyes were hidden behind closed lids that seemed stuck together, so long ago was it that she had last seen them.
/Marissa blearily managed to open one eye, squinting out of it to see what was disturbing her from getting away from all of the pain. Recognising the figure on the other side of the window, she opened the other eye and stared at him. She tried to open her door, but her hands wouldn't move and she couldn't lift them. So she stared into the endless blue pools of his eyes, taking in everything about him, feeling like she could see into his soul, thinking that they had never connected like this before and hating the cruel irony that it happened now. She stared for as long as she could, feeling the rest of her body giving up but not wanting to go yet. She fought to keep her eyes open; each time they closed it became more and more difficult to get them to open again. Head spinning and images blurring, Marissa succumbed./
Rocking uncontrollably in her chair as she revisited that night and then looked at the man in front of her, Marissa finally slumped forwards and into unconsciousness, falling in stages onto the floor as she did so.
