A/N: Hey folks! It's that time again. So, please ignore the little "next up" from the previous chapter. A few things got removed and added. The pieces that were removed will be in the coming chapters so not to worry.
Thank you TVCrazed and Little People for your insights about Casey's character. Kids do change a lot, not that I know first hand, so that does give me a little wiggle room. However, if I throw in a few evil fan wanks, I'll be sure to warn everybody in advance. :-)
TVCrazed: Wow! Thanks! Glad I could hook ya! It really makes my ego turn back flips when we say such nice things. :-) Thanks again for the help and of course, I'm glad you're enjoying this.
Little People: I wouldn't go as far as to say Krista is supportive. I would keep an eye on her if I were you. :-p Charlie's mess will spill over in the coming chapters, but in little pieces. It's not what you think, or maybe it is. /end suspenseful music Thanks for helping me out and as you already know, I'm glad you're still reading and enjoying.
protego-totalum88: I'm glad I could be of service! :-) I hope you did well on your exams and that you enjoy your summer. Thank insert whatever deity(s) you serve here that finals are over! College here I come! I love Olivia and Casey moments on the show and since they 86ed Casey, I try to assuage my withdrawal here. I'm glad that they're so well received. Thanks again for sticking with the story.
aMerryBerry: I have my emo pen out and I'm not afraid to use it. Hehe. Thank you for reviewing!
Futureforensic: O, thank you. So, what did you think of Elbow? Personally, I think they should have received a lot more mainstream attention than they have, but maybe that's just moi.
TearsofTomorrow: I can't kill off the whole Katsaros clan! What about the children? Maybe I'll send the old people to Florida and leave the kidlets in limbo at Disney World. :-) Maybe in the sequel. Of course there'll be drama. I'm a soap fan remember?
Hope06: Thanks! Glad to hear watching those episodes worked. Turns out my subscription to Netflix was worth it. Do I sound like a commercial because I really don't mean to? :-) Thanks again for reviewing and continuing to read.
CNovak929: Thanks for the kind words! As for Charles' problems, they'll come out soon. Robin's recovery won't be quick or smooth, but…well you have to wait and see.
CocaCola1052: You love me, you really love me! /end Sally Field at the '85 Oscars inpersonation.
And to everybody with the story (an me!) on their alert list, thanks for sticking with the story. Glad you folks are enjoying this too.
Wow this is long…moving onward…
Chapter Fourteen: Know
The room was a pale green, inviting. The walls were inundated with baseball posters and a small shelf next to her bed held pictures of her family. It looked like a child's bedroom, with a few stuffed animals strewn around the bed, books half tumbling from the bedside table, the drawings and bright posters.
The room lulled him into a false sense of security, its charming innocence belying the senseless tragedy that had savagely consumed so much of her. His eyes moistened. He approached her slowly and carefully, as if he were an intruder. Taking care, he pulled one of the visitor's chairs to her bedside.
Little Robin Novak lay in the hospital bed amidst beeping machines with coruscating lights, signaling life. A swaddle of white bandages flattered her normally bouncy curls. A blue tube was taped inside her mouth and an oxygen tube snaked into her nostrils. A mosaic of tubes protruded from beneath her hospital gown. An IV dripped saline and medication intermittently into her tiny arm. Just last week she was pulsating with life, her precociousness and sarcasm getting her in more and more trouble. She was vibrant and happy. Now, she looked slight against the bed sheets, machines keeping her alive.
He ran a gentle hand over her face, now cut, bruised, and swollen. He'd only met her once, when he'd gone over to her mother's apartment to get the ADA to change her mind about a case. She was reading on the couch, nursing a glass of warm milk. A charming little monster, her mind full of questions and sharp remarks. She'd grown since then. It amazed him what time could give and take.
The machines beeped; the lights flashed. He sat there, watching her a moment, before remembering what he had come to do. He rummaged through the stack of books on her nightstand. A heavy genetics books for children, with its worn pages and fingerprint stained cover, seemed to be the perfect source of entertainment.
Finally, he sighed. "Your Mom and Uncle Lucky will be right back. Somebody finally convinced your Mom to eat. I don't know if you remember me. Apparently I'm extremely hard to forget, but that only counts for women over thirty so you might be immune. In case you are, the name's Detective John Munch. I work with your mother."
Again he sat and watched her. The machines flashed and beeped, the ventilator breathing for her. "Casey said you were fascinated by science and genetics. Did you know your idols in white coats claim that reading to people in comas help with them come out of it? I hear your brain is in limbo and apparently this'll help you resume your place amongst the other drones in the waking world. It's very important to your mother that you wake up, but I suppose you know that. That's why I'm here, because it's important to your mother. "
Clearly I remember
From the windows they were watching
While we froze down below
"I'm doing this as a favor to your wife," the nurse said sternly as she wheeled him through the double doors of the ICU. "She and I went to nursing school together. She kept me on track when I couldn't keep it together."
"Thank…"
"You don't belong anywhere near that little girl," she barreled ahead, her voice strong with irritation. "I heard the awful things you said to her mother when she visited you…"
"I was angry…"
"You were running and you still are. Don't go in there expecting her to absolve you. She can't and you have yourself to blame."
"I realize that I have a stellar healthcare plan, but I didn't realize the nurses could click their heels and morph into therapists. Now, I appreciate your help and on some level your candor, but I don't need your advice. I need to see my daughter."
"Suit yourself," she shrugged and parked his wheelchair in front of the door. "She already has a visitor."
Charlie found the older man, whose nose was pressed against Robin's favorite book and lanky figure seemed to be swallowed by the swish of his long black trench coat, intriguing. The man looked over the rim of his black shades as he read, occasionally stroking Robin's even blacker curls. He changed his voice to accommodate the personalities of the different cartoon characters. Robin's monitors moaned harmoniously with the man's voice, as if she were reading along. The whisper of her ventilator shattered the illusion, as did Charlie's agitated knock against the blue door.
"I would like to sit with my daughter," Charlie announced tersely, folding his arms against his chest.
"Last time I checked you were schizophrenic non grata around these parts," Munch said, not bothering to take his eyes off Robin.
"Mr. Katsaros is being discharged this afternoon. I thought it would be fitting for him to say goodbye," the nurse finally stepped it. She stared pointedly into Charlie's eyes. "It should only take a minute."
Munch's cell phone gave a soft ring from his coat pocket. He glanced at the caller ID. "I'm being summoned. I'd be gone before her mother gets back if I were you. She's out for blood and your chaotic jumble of a head on a silver platter would be a welcome distraction for all parties involved." he placed the book on top of the others and lifted himself from the chair. Brushing two fingers over Robin's shoulder, he shot Charlie one last glare before leaving the room. "
"You have ten minutes. Your wife should be here to pick you up and sign your discharge papers," said the nurse as she backed out of the room.
Charlie fixed his frigid blue eyes on the rainbow of tubes that festooned his daughter's body as he turned his chair to face her bed. Flicking a few sweat matted curls from her closed eyes, he picked up her hand. He sat there for a bit, cherishing his memories of her. It was then that he realized there weren't many to grasp onto, that the moment he was in, with her battered hand in his own and ballad of her machines rippling about the room, was a defining moment in their relationship. He hated himself.
"Your mother doesn't know I'm here," he said, adjusting her blankets. "I know you don't like keeping secrets from her, especially about me, but I had to see you."
The monitors drummed forward, the lines on the screen were steady. He looked over his shoulder at the door, as if it would be snatched open at any time, and Casey and her band of brothers would come howling in to make him feel like the intruder that he was. "I actually have to sneak in here," he laughed, stroking her arm. "How do I always manage to complicate everything?"
He glanced over his shoulder at the door again. Still no axe waving Novaks. "Three days, you've been like this. The doctors say you could go either way. Three days of me lying in a hospital bed of my own, thinking about a way to make everything right for. You know," he said. "I wish I could sit here and tell you that I have loved you since the day you were born, but I'd be lying. My mind was so gone, I couldn't tell my butt from a whole in the ground. You were two when I officially met you. Your mother was pushing you on the swings and you were just laughing. You look so much like her when you smile."
All he wanted was to see her smile and maybe hear her laugh if he was lucky. Instead, all he got was the beeping and the flashing. His eyes filled, and her face blurred into a watery collage.
"I came across the playground and you looked at me. You smiled like you were waiting for me. When you looked at me you didn't see a dirty blight on society or some psycho that talked about everything and nothing. You saw a person. You saw a man. You saw your dad. You made me feel like the most important person in the world," he sobbed. "You are the smartest thing I've never done and I love you. I'm so sorry that I got you into this mess. If I have to, I'll go as far away as possible if it means you'll be safe. All I want is you to wake up!"
He didn't know what was worse, losing her to death or giving her up so that she could live a safe and healthy life. The grief billowed towards him like a tidal wave and as the flood gates opened, he held her hand as he cried.
After what seemed like an eternity, Charlie glanced at the door again. He was pushing it and with his luck he would be caught. Pulling himself together and looked up, and when he did, his heart stopped.
Her green eyes were hooded and glazed, but nonetheless open.
"Robin!" he questioned, tentative. "Robin can you hear me?"
Without thinking, Charlie wheeled into the hallway, shouting for a doctor.
If you love me
Won't you let me know?
When Casey and Lucky returned to Robin's room after dinner, they found Dr. Harmon, Robin's surgeon, shining a light into one of her open eyes. Charlie was near the viewing window, his blue eyes hopeful.
"Her eyes are open," Casey breathed a sigh of relief. "She's getting stronger."
"I was here," Charlie exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "One minute I was talking to her and the next…"
"You were here," Casey turned sharply toward him, her jaw tight. "I thought I told you…"
"I'm the reason her eyes are open! I talked to her and she heard me!"
"Robin was in the coma because of you," Lucky inched toward him. "Nobody's gonna getting on their knees and kiss your ass because you pretended to wake her with a kiss."
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Dr. Harmon cleared her throat and shut of the small flashlight in her hand. "At the moment there's no change."
"No change?" Casey stepped further into the room, her eyes blighted with shock. "But her eyes…"
"Robin eyes are open, but at the moment she is unresponsive to light and painful stimuli…"
"She's looking right at the ceiling," Lucky pointed out.
"Notice that her eyes are in a fixed position. It's an involuntary reflex. Your daughter's eyes are open, but she isn't conscious. I wish I had something better to give you, but Robin's prognosis hasn't changed."
"No!" Charlie shouted, pounding his fists against the armrests of his wheelchair. "He eyes are open! She's trying to come back to us!"
"I know this is extremely difficult for you—"
"You know what, you don't know anything about Robin," Casey pushed out. "Robin's a fighter. I'm not about to stand here and listen to you tell us to give up on her."
"If you would like to obtain a second opinion, you are within your rights, but any doctor that examines you daughter will offer the same explanation. Excuse me."
"Robin needs another doctor," Charlie declared when the door shut. "She needs someone who is dedicated to her making progress and ultimately recovering."
"It's—it isn't progress," Lucky mumbled.
"Don't you dare say that to me!" Casey squeezed her brother's arm as tightly as she could. "Robin is getting better and if all you can think to do is give up, then you can get the hell out!"
"I'm not giving up on her, but," he paused, taking her hand. "Maybe we should start thinking about Robin's long term care…"
"She won't be like this forever," Charlie whispered. "I will not accept the fact that this is all she has to look forward to."
"Well accept it," Lucky sneered. "This is the reality you created with your actions and now we all have to live with it."
"This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen," Charlie yelled. "It was supposed to be better."
Before any explanation could be garnered, a knock sounded at the door and Charlie's nurse strode in. "Forgive me for interrupting you all at a time like this, but your wife his here to sign your discharge papers Mr. Katsaros. You are to be released after that."
As the nurse wheeled him from the room, Casey placed a cold hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, his eyes rueful for the first time in seventy-two hours. She stood terrifyingly still, the events of the last three days reeling from her eyes. They'd been participating in the macabre ritual since the beginning and he was becoming lost in it.
She bent down slowly and as she did, a soft breeze tickled his neck. He managed not to shiver. "If Robin dies, unlike your little friends that got her in this situation, I won't miss."
He stared straight ahead as he was wheeled away. Deep down he wished she would live up to her promise.
When the future's architectured
By a carnival of idiots on show
You'd better lie low
Was a long and dark December
When the banks became cathedrals
And the fox
Became God
When Charlie and Krista returned to his parent's house they found Taylor sitting on the couch, bouncing Chuckie on her leg, laughing simply because the three year old was. When their parents made their presence known, the two children moved as one. They were like shadows, each of the other.
"Is Robin coming home too?" Chuckie was standing in front of them now, his bottom lip protruding, prepared to cry.
Charlie eased down and drew the boy into his arms, gently brushing a few fizzled curls from his face. Taylor was watching them. He couldn't see his eldest daughter's face as he allowed his son to rest his head on his chest. He decided it was better that way.
"Your sister hit her head really bad and because of that, she's going to need a lot of rest to get her strength back. She's in a long sleep called a coma right now. When she wakes up, it'll be easier for her to get well."
"When's she gonna wake up?"
"We just have to wait and see."
Hope's dim pulse was nestled in his youngest child's eyes and that offered mercy, even if only briefly. He held his son as he cried, feeling his own tears roaring to his eyes. To be three again. He was allowed emotion back then. Chuckie didn't know how lucky he was.
"Taylor," Charlie thumbed away his son's tears and looked up at his daughter. "Where are your grandparents?"
"They went food shopping," the girl spoke for the first time. "Pappou finally convinced Yiayia to eat something."
His mother's torrent of grief seemed equal to his own. She and Robin were inseparable at one point, joined by a bond that seemed even deeper than their blood. She was very protective and possessive of the child who had been her only connection to her favorite son up until a month ago. Robin rarely shared this sentiment, having her grandmother coddle her constantly, but she needed her. Charlie could taste the metallic sensation of severance. A stream of understanding flowed within him.
"Have you guys had dinner?"
"They had a snack before I left for the hospital," Krista said, sitting on the couch next to her daughter. "Your father insisted on cooking dinner."
"Daddy…can I…can I talk to you—alone?"
"I think somebody needs a bath," Krista stood up and lifted Chuckie into the air. The boy giggled with delight. "We'll be down in a bit."
"What's on your mind Princess?" Charlie asked, joining Taylor on the couch.
"Is Robin dying?"
"No, Princess, she's not dying. The doctors are doing everything they can to keep her alive so she can heal and come back to us."
"Come back? Is she brain dead?"
"The doctors say that she has a good chance of coming around because of her age. There's some activity in her brain so that's also a good sign. And you know something else? She opened her eyes today. She can't talk or feel us yet, but she opened her eyes. I think that was her way of telling everybody not to give up on her yet, that she's working really hard to come back to us."
"That's good," she replied solemnly.
"Doesn't sound like that's how you really feel…"
"I can't help but think that part of this is my fault!"
"Where would you get an idea like that?"
"I know I wasn't very nice to Robin, but I was only like that because I thought she and her mom were going to steal you away from us. So I wished she would go away and never come back. And now she's gone. I wished for the worst possible thing and now I got it."
"Oh, no, Princess," he pulled her tightly into his arms. "This has nothing to do with you. I know it was difficult between you and your sister, but she knows that you never meant her any harm. What happened to Robin was a terrible accident and you are not to blame."
Her brown eyes wide, the interplay of compassion and the melancholic rested within them. "Are you?"
The whoop and clatter of Sara and George Katsaros abruptly ended the conversation, much to Charlie's delight. Taylor greeted her grandparents before excusing herself, asking her father to call her down for dinner.
"How's Robin?" his mother asked.
Charlie got a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the mantle. His cheekbones swallowed his eyes, leaving dark pits. His light brown strands darted in different directions like flies itching to be swatted. His lips were swollen from his feeble attempts to keep the tears at bay. Yet: "how was Robin?"
"She opened her eyes a few hours ago."
"That's wonderful!" his father exclaimed, giving his wife's shoulder a squeeze. "This calls for celebration. We should visit her in the morning…"
"Her doctor says it was an involuntary reflex. Her eyes are open but she's still unconscious."
"She's…she's a vegetable?" Yiayia's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes already beginning to water.
"To some extent, I suppose. They're not giving up hope. Everyone except Casey's brother, but that's neither here nor there. I believe she's going to come back to us. It may take some time, but she'll come back."
"The way she left? Will there be brain damage?" Pappou asked.
"We don't know."
"This is terrible," Pappou declared. "Poor Casey."
"Poor Casey?" Yiayia scoffed. She narrowed her eyes at her son. "Poor Charlie! He's the one that's going to have to live with killing his own daughter."
"Sara…"
"Leave us," she waved her husband off. "I need to speak to my son."
He watched her intently before nodding and heading for the kitchen. "I'll get dinner started."
"I can't fix this, Mother. I'm trying, but I can't fix this."
Any other mother would've appreciated this avowal--the vulnerability, the paralysis in his words. The matriarch gave nothing but a speech about solidarity, compassion, and family. The Katsaros family and it's long winded queen were all there for him with open arms and enough humanity to vaporize world hunger. The master behaved toward her puppet in a decorous manner, leaving mother and son to tread water. He wanted his mother to see him beyond their mistakes. They lived in a world of black and white, those two, allowing the sun to set on either or, leaving Charlie to wonder what lay in the middle.
Charlie peaked over in the trench and into No Man's Land, clutching the memory of the one person who ever loved him. "Please Mother, not right now. My daughter is fighting for her life and all you can think to do is go on some tirade about the homogeneity of pain?! I'm pissed and I'm scared and I'm ashamed and I don't spiel about how much the family loves me."
To say that he was surprised when he felt his mother's arm overwhelm him would be the understatement of the year. He hadn't cried in front of her in years, not when he was lucid anyway. Sara eased her little boy's head into her lap, rocking him as the waves of the day's events licked at his sanity. For a few magical moments, Charlie allowed himself to feel grief and his mother's support.
Bury me in armor
When I'm dead and hit the ground
My nerves are poles that unfroze
If you love me
Won't you let me know?
I don't want to be a soldier
That a captain of some sinking ship
Would stow, far below
"Did you get my message?" the throaty voice at the other end of the phone asked. There was laughter in it. Charlie felt the murder bubble into his fists.
"Yes."
"Well, my monosyllable loving manic, I hope your loyalty doesn't come into question again. Maybe I'll send Charles Katsaros, Jr. a case of V8."
"That won't be necessary."
"You know, there is no way out," the voice reminded. "All doors can be opened and closed. Remember that."
The flat line of the dial tone posed as a reminder of what was at stake. Charlie put the phone on the receiver and sighed. He was doing the right thing, wasn't he
Taylor lay in her sister's bed, clutching Robin's covers up to her nose. Robin wouldn't be too please about her big sister being in her bed, but Charlie couldn't bring himself to ask her to go. Instead, he shifted the little girl closer to the wall and crawled in beside her. Robin's little-girl scent mingled with his memories of her mother and in the mist of keeping their heads above water, Charlie and Taylor managed to drift into sleep--their storm sails set in place.
So if you love me
Why'd you let me go?
I took my love down to violet hill
There we sat in snow
All that time she was silent still
"I don't believe that you're gone," Casey said, adjusting her daughter's blanket. She didn't know if the girl was cold, if she could feel cold, or even if she would wake up and remember what the word meant. "You're just a little lost."
Robin's eyes stared up at the ceiling. The doctor offered to close them, but Casey insisted that they be left as they were. Robin obviously wanted them open or she wouldn't have gone through the trouble of opening them. They all wanted her treat her daughter like an inanimate object, a decoration. She was defunct, useless, one of the waking dead. Robin was going to prove them wrong.
"Hey remember last year when we took the subway to Yankee Stadium? We were all packed in one car like a bunch of sardines. Every time somebody coughed you were ready to jump out of your skin. I was half surprised you didn't bring your hand sanitizer with you. Anyway, you must have thought I got off because you rushed off the train. I tried calling you, but you couldn't hear over all the voices. You weren't even afraid. You jumped on the next train and got to the station. I was right there on the platform waiting for you."
"Well I'm on the platform now and I'm waiting for you. Get on the train and come to the station. I'm waiting for you. I will always wait for you."
Said, if you love me
Won't you let me know?
As always, thanks for reading folks. The lyrics are by Coldplay and the song is "Violet Hill." I can't wait for their new album to come out so I can buy it. There's just something about those Englishmen…
Also, the final scene was inspired by my favorite soap opera, General Hospital. It's too bad they got robbed of emmy nominations…
I'm not including my usual "next up" because I'm still playing with what will be next up. I promise I'll try to update as soon as the juices start flowing! Until then…