Chapter 21

On Thursday morning at 8:00, Neal stood outside Hope's hospital room on the 8th floor of Bronx Lebanon Hospital, watching as the nurses finished prepping his daughter for the day ahead. He paced, peeking in from time to time as her catheters were checked, her face was washed, bandages changed and her IV bag was replaced by a fresh one. Sadly, after twelve consecutive days, the sight of his motionless daughter being manhandled without her consent was becoming commonplace.

He had the first shift of the day and it suited him just fine to be the first to greet her in the morning, to fill her in on the previous day's goings on and to talk to her about the day ahead. During their last meeting on the previous Monday, the doctors had updated her status from comatose to vegetative state - a term which, at first, had struck terror in his heart. Turned out, despite the alarming and overly descriptive term, it was an upgrade of sorts from the comatose state she'd been in for the previous few days. The doctors had explained that she was now showing signs of wake/sleep cycles and that she was slowly but surely becoming more conscious of her surroundings. From time to time, Hope had begun to open her eyes although she wasn't aware of the world around her. She'd even smiled one morning when he'd come into the room, merely a reflex the nurses had explained as Neal's heart sank with disappointment. She was being fed through a tube and from time to time, she made guttural sounds - something that was disconcerting, considering the noises were random and meaningless. Still, the doctors had insisted these were all encouraging signs and coupled with the fact that the swelling in her brain had slowly begun to decrease, the doctors were optimistic that Hope would slowly return although all bets were off as to the state which she would be in when she finally did come back to them.

Neal and Sara had reluctantly returned to work part time - he at the school and she at Sterling Bosch although the length of their workdays was dictated by Hope's needs, their meetings with doctors and all their other responsibilities around Liam and Caitlin's schedules. Peter and Elizabeth had been amazing throughout; El had put her life on hold in order to spend a few hours every afternoon with her goddaughter while Peter had kept things going at the gallery, considering Cam was spending the bulk of his time by his fiancee's side.

Days weren't so bad for Neal as it related to coping with the difficult situation but nights remained a challenge and he'd begun to rely on a couple of stiff shots of scotch - and sometimes more - in order to silence his demons when the sun finally went down and the rest of the world settled in for a restful night's slumber. He knew that, as far as coping mechanisms went, this was probably not the best of choices but it was just that, a coping mechanism, and at least for the time being, it allowed him to get four to five hours of uninterrupted sleep which was just enough to allow him to face another day.

He'd spent the last couple of nights in his studio painting, something Sara had seen as a good sign. What she didn't know was that he kept a bottle of booze down there and that it fuelled his rage as he worked on his latest piece - a dark and dreary rendition of the accident from his warped and guilt laden point of view. Some nights, he didn't even make it up to bed, falling on the couch in the family room as the alcohol did its job while other nights, he climbed the stairs up to their room and fell into bed next to his wife, blissfully asleep with the help of the little sleeping pills she'd gotten into the habit of taking before bedtime.

They were barely coping, hanging on by the skin of their teeth but they owed Hope that much - to be there for her every day as she struggled every step of the way.

'You can go in now' said Holly, one of the regular morning nurses. 'She was smiling a minute ago; she must know her dad is here.'

Neal smiled back at her, a forced and sad smile. The hospital staff, from the nurses to the doctors to the orderlies were all wonderful but he would have given his eye teeth to never have met them - especially in such trying circumstances. He took a cleansing breath and walked in, putting on a brave face for his little girl. He and Sara had been clear that everyone was to talk directly to Hope and not about her amongst themselves. Dr. White was a firm believer that comatose patients were aware of their surroundings and Neal and Sara were dead set on keeping the lines of communication open and they'd forbidden everyone from being negative when they were in Hope's presence.

'Good morning, sweet pea' Neal said, his voice chipper, as he made his way to her side and kissed her forehead. 'The nurses said you were in a good mood this morning. You look really pretty; I like the way Caitlin did your hair.'

Hope lay motionless as always; her face had begun to heal, the bruising finally fading and the stitches not quite as bright and red as they'd first been.

He brought one of the chairs over to sit by her side and placed his spiked coffee on the small table by her bed. The last two mornings, he'd put a little bit of whisky into his coffee mug before leaving the house; it helped with the headaches he'd been having every morning and it was only a small amount, he reasoned, as he took a sip and pulled out a get well card from his pocket.

'You got a card from Pam and your friends at CMU' Neal began. 'And they sent these beautiful flowers, irises, daisies and some roses… really nice.'

He glanced at Hope, laying immobile as she always did. He was getting good at the long monologues, which at first had seemed silly and pointless but were now his one and only lifeline to his beautiful daughter.

'Dear Hope' he began as he settled in to read the note. 'We are all thinking of you and hoping you'll be back with us soon. Exams were horrible and you were right, Miss Denning slipped in a question on the final about the Byzantine period which no one but you had seen coming. Things just aren't the same without you and your outrageous sense of humor and we can't wait to have you back. Cathy got a job back home for the summer working at one of the local galleries and Tim is going to New York to look for work. I'm still looking but I know my mom is hoping I'll come home to Chicago for the summer although I'm thinking I might just stay here and get a job. We heard that you got engaged. You bugger! I knew he was going to ask you. Well, I didn't really know but from the way he was calling and texting a dozen times a day, I guess the writing was on the wall.'

Neal paused to look at Hope, her face still expressionless as he read. 'Anyway, hurry and get better. Our dorm room is so empty without you. Love, Pam.'

'That was nice, huh, honey?' Neal added after a moment. 'Pam's a great kid. I really like her.'

Neal stood and ran his hand over Hope's hair. He glanced down at her arm, noticing a new piece of jewelry and he brought his hand to gently touch it. 'Is that the bracelet Lydia gave you?' he asked unnecessarily. 'It's pretty. I guess she knew how much you love turquoise, huh?'

'Mom's coming over in a little while and Cam too. The nurses are going to show us how to do your physio so we can do it for you instead of waiting for them to find time to do it… So if you think you're going to get to just lay there… well, you've got another think coming.'

Neal grabbed for his coffee and took another fortifying sip. 'And your aunt Elizabeth will be over at lunch to spend some time with you.'

His eyes wandered to an audio book on the nearby table. 'Is this one of the ones Olivia brought over?' he asked, already knowing the answer to his question. 'It's good, huh? Mom was reading it before… well, before the accident. She said it was a good read.'

Neal sat down again and took a moment to collect himself. He was getting much better at not letting his emotions seep through in his voice; trying to keep his speech steady and not let her hear how difficult it was to see her like that, broken and fragile.

'Why don't we listen to the next chapter' he suggested as he set the tape in motion. He reached for her hand, squeezing gently and grabbed for his coffee with the other hand as he settled in to listen.

WCWCWC

'How's your daughter doing?' Marion asked as she handed Sara a glass of water.

'She's stable' Sara said sadly. 'They've upgraded her status from 'comatose' to 'vegetative state' which sounded horrible at first but… apparently it's a step up on the 'consciousness' scale. The doctor says she has sleep/wake cycles now and sometimes she even opens her eyes which… well, it's weird. She doesn't see us but we can see her beautiful blue eyes…'

Marion reached out and put a hand on top of Sara's. 'I'm so sorry you have to go through all this, especially after the ordeal you recently went through.'

Sara shrugged. It seemed like years ago she'd been held captive and sexually assaulted even though it was merely a few months before. So much had happened in that time and she and Neal had been well on their way to rebuilding their intimacy before tragedy had struck. Now, it was a good night if Neal even made it to bed and Sara had noticed he'd been drinking more at bedtime.

'So, you still can't get Neal to come to our appointments, huh?' the therapist asked.

Sara shook her head. 'He's still in total denial. I can tell he's still ravaged with guilt…'

'He's probably having trouble letting go of the images from that night. It's very traumatic to witness such an event' Marion explained patiently. 'Hopefully, he'll come to a point where he'll decide to reach out and ask for help.'

Sara looked sadly at the therapist; she remembered how she'd resisted coming to therapy in the first place and how Neal had had to drag her kicking and screaming in the beginning. Maybe she needed to do the same for him now that their roles were reversed.

'He's drinking… at night' Sara admitted as much to herself as to Marion. She'd been wanting to ignore the signs but they were becoming increasingly obvious.

'Is he able to function during the day?' Marion asked, concern evident in her voice.

'That's what's strange. He's… during the day, he goes to visit Hope, he puts in a couple of hours at work, he's even started painting again but… I can't get him to come to bed at night' Sara said, feeling as though she were betraying Neal's sacred trust. 'I found a bottle of scotch in his night table. I think he drinks when he can't sleep.'

'Definitely not the best coping strategy' Marion agreed.

'Some nights, he doesn't even make it to bed and I find him asleep on the couch with the bottle nearby' she said as she looked at her therapist. 'I don't want to nag him about it but I'm worried.'

'For now, my suggestion is to keep an eye on him, make sure he's not drinking and driving, that sort of thing. If you start to see a change in his behavior during the day, you might want to confront him about it' Marion said. 'And keep trying to get him to come in to see me.'

Sara nodded. She was having trouble coping herself and to see Neal struggling made everything doubly hard.

'So, when is your appointment with the prosecutor's office?' the woman asked, changing the subject.

'In a couple of weeks. I'm nervous but I… I know this is an important step in letting go of all this. Luckily, Neal will be there with me… and Mindy' Sara said.

The man who had assaulted her had been arrested by Homeland Security for his crimes and he'd been in prison for the past six months but it had been an important part of the process to press charges and deal with this last piece of business before letting go of the unfortunate incident once and for all. Luckily, Cody's mom, Mindy Miller, herself a lawyer, had contacts in the prosecutor's office and had been supporting Sara through the last, tedious part of her journey.

'For what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing, Sara. It's not going to be easy to go all the way and stand up to your attacker but it'll help you leave all this behind for good.'

'It's just… the timing's not great with Hope and…' Sara began as she locked eyes with her therapist. 'But I want to see this through to the end and… I will.'

TBC