Chapter Twenty-Two: Support Systems
"Dexter?"
Gwen's voice broke the silence that had prevailed since Ben had been rushed away a few minutes before. She spoke quietly, trying not to upset the hush, but she broke the spell that had fallen over them all.
Dexter felt himself gasp out the breath he'd been holding and suddenly it seemed as if his heart was beating again. He finally turned away from the spot where Ben had lain, trying to suppress the image of his father doing chest compressions on his best friend, but he knew it would haunt his dreams. There was so much to process, to get straight in his mind, to try to understand that he wasn't sure where to start. His emotions were a jumbled mess – panic and relief and anxiety running their courses in seconds and leaving him feeling faint and exhausted. This sense of Bedlam was very atypical for him, and he suspected that he was in a state of shock. He looked at Gwen, wondering if he looked as worn out as she did.
"Yes?"
Kevin slowly gained his feet, hugging his arms tight around his middle and hanging his head in dejection and misery. Dexter caught a glimpse of his face as he turned away, isolating himself from the group to confront his emotions in private. Despite his instinctive aversion to the older teen, he felt a pang of sympathy for him. It was distressing enough to witness all these events, but to have caused them . . .
Her eyes were red and swollen, and traces of tears were visible on her pale cheeks. Pursing her lips, Gwen Tennyson put on a brave face as she stepped closer to Dexter, holding out the Omnitrix and being careful to keep her distance.
"Can I ask you to lock this up for now? I think . . . Well, I think it would be safest down here."
He nodded, not taking it, and said, "We'll secure it in my work station."
Mr. Green gently herded them toward the elevators, stopping off at Dexter's work station on the way long enough for Gwen to put the Omnitrix in one of several lockers there. The Boy Genius handed the electronic key to the girl without a word.
Sgt. Morton was waiting for them at the elevators, and abruptly Dexter could not wait until his lab was a little less busy and crowded than City Station. Immediately the blond made his report.
"Dearborn's taking Albedo to Hometown right now. He wanted to go to Splitsville, but we decided that was too close."
"Very good, Sergeant. Dearborn gave him the money I promised?"
"Yes, sir. If he's not stupid it should last him a long while."
They half expected Kevin to comment to the contrary, but the Osmosian made no sound. Morton noticed the omission immediately, and after scrutinizing the older teens sharply he looked at the two remaining security guards.
"Take them to get something to eat," he ordered. "Make sure they get something sweet in their systems. They look shocky." He studied Dexter, seeing much the same reaction. Before he could speak, Mr. Green put his hand on Dexter's shoulder.
"I'll take care of Dexter, Chip. Two of the guards went with the Professor and we're going to need a security detail in Medical."
Which, when translated, meant to say he fully expected Dexter to move into Medical until they had word on Ben's condition and Security had better be ready. When Morton hesitated, Green reminded with a wry smile, "I've watched him a time or two before."
"Mr. Green, we'd rather go be with Ben," Gwen said, speaking for all the children.
"I know," said the fire demon in soft tones, "but right now you'd only be in the way, and you all need to eat and rest. The doctors have a lot of work to do and they don't need us hovering. Professor Utonium will call when we can go see Ben. You've all got rooms here. Go eat and then head back to your rooms so we know where to find you. I promise you'll be contacted as soon as we hear anything."
It was sage advice, but plainly Kevin would not allow himself to be comforted by anything less than seeing Ben and getting word on his condition. Gwen looked at him with concern as she placed her hand on his arm. Kevin didn't respond to the touch for a long moment, finally looking at her with smoldering eyes.
"Come on," Gwen urged, taking his hand. "Let's go eat and then we can sit in my room and wait. Okay?"
A nod was his only answer. After a final look at Kilroy to keep Dexter safe, Morton steered the teens and guards toward the waiting elevator. As the doors closed Dexter sighed, relieved to be alone with his favorite teacher. Mr. Green was silent, waiting for the boy to talk and knowing he would never be able to persuade Dexter to stop and rest right now.
"Did you know this would happen?" asked Dexter, his voice carefully neutral.
"We knew it could happen," was the demon's reply, hitting the button for another elevator. "We based a lot of our surmises off of you, actually, and your experience today."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you remember waking up after Spidermonkey attacked you?"
"Yes, in Medical."
"No, you woke up down here, Dexter. You were pretty out of it and the only thing you could say was-"
"Dad," he provided. Now that his memory was jogged he could vaguely recall being picked up and carried. He blinked at Green, surprised as one memory stimulated another and the scene gradually came back to mind. "What happened?"
"Temporary amnesia is common with being shocked."
"And the arrhythmia?"
"If you had much more exposure, you probably would have been in the same shape as Ben. Think about it. Your heart works on a steady electrical impulse. Repeated exposure to low-level electricity is bound to interfere with that. The defibrillator is designed to restore regular sinus rhythm."
"But . . . he's been exposed to that for days!"
Green raised his hand for calm. "Your father has a good idea why Ben isn't worse off. I'll let him tell you."
Dexter pondered these revelations, one hand pressed to his mouth. Finally he dropped his hand and gazed up at Green. "Why wasn't I told?"
His teacher smiled faintly, ready for such an interrogation. "Because it wouldn't have changed anything. Your father didn't want to give you any reason to hesitate in getting the Omnitrix off of Ben. Knowing what it could do to him wouldn't have changed the need to get it off of him, Dexter."
"I . . . I thought once it was off . . . he'd be back to himself."
"I know you did. We were all hoping for that. I'm sorry things didn't work out that way, but your father and Dr. Cardon will do everything they can."
"I know," he said softly. "What else might happen?"
Green sighed, knowing there was no shielding this child from the truth no matter how badly he wanted to. "A lot of things . . . or nothing at all."
"And now?"
"Now your father and Dr. Cardon - and Seventy-Seven if he's still up - will run a whole battery of tests to determine the best course of treatment."
Bracing himself mentally and physically, Dexter asked, "Will any damage be permanent?"
He stepped closer and laid his hands on the boy's shoulders. Dexter was his only pupil, and Green adored him completely, making it all the harder for him to talk about such a painful situation. "There's no way of telling that yet. That depends on Ben and how well he gets through this. It's not exactly the sort of thing you can just bounce back from in a day or two. He's going to need you and Gwen and Kevin and all of us."
The elevator arrived. Dexter didn't move when Green gestured for him to enter.
"Where are we going?"
"Right now, to level three."
Dexter frowned, trying to puzzle out why Mr. Green wanted to take him there. The only things on that level were executive offices and meeting rooms, most of which had been appropriated by the Earth's Combined Forces for processing new recruits. Green caught the frown and gave Dexter his most persuasive look, asking,
"Will you please eat something?"
"I'm not hungry."
"I'm not surprised, but believe me, eating will help right now. You don't have to eat much - have some pie or some ice cream."
He tilted his head, curious. "Why did Sgt. Morton insist the others eat something sweet?"
"Sugar helps a person that's gotten a shock recover faster. Come on, now. We'll stop at the executive dining room. Chef Daal always has ice cream there."
"I . . . I don't really want any, Mr. Green."
"Maybe not, but I do."
"Ah," said Dexter, and led the way.
Two brownies and a bowl of ice cream later, he sat on the leather couch in Dr. Cardon's office regretting that second brownie that sat like lead in his stomach and trying his best to stay awake. Sometime between the events at the laboratory and the medical wing the day turned from Friday to Saturday. The office door was open and he could overhear the nurse and techs talking as they worked. Words like CT scan and life support sent jolts of fear through him. He needed to know more even if the news was bad. Not knowing was terrible, and he dearly wanted the Professor even though he knew his father was busy. Left to his own half-informed imaginings, he worked himself into a miserable, dejected state. He couldn't imagine what Gwen and Kevin were feeling.
The lights were off and the room was warm. He must have dozed off, because he never heard the Professor enter the room and woke only when the President of DexCorp crouched down and touched his shoulder. Dexter sucked in his breath, lifting his head from the arm of the couch and blinking at his father, fumbling to fix his askew glasses.
"Da?" he mumbled, then swallowed and tried again, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Dad? How's Ben? Can I see him?"
"In a few minutes," Utonium said, sitting down beside him.
"How is he?"
"That's what I'm here to tell you."
The Professor was exhausted and looked it in the light that spilled in from the hall. Dexter edged a little closer, concerned anew. He put his hand on his father's arm.
"Are you all right?"
Utonium smiled gently. "It's been a busy day."
Alien X, Dexter getting hurt, breaking into the sealed laboratory, dealing with Albedo, the tea party, and now struggling to save Ben – it was tiring just thinking about.
"Busy is an understatement," agreed Dexter.
"Yeah, this will be hard to top. Not that I'll try to." He picked up the clipboard he had been carrying. "So. Ben."
His tone did not inspire confidence. Dexter gripped his arm. "Is it bad?"
The Professor put his arm around Dexter's shoulder and set the clipboard on his lap.
"Not as bad as it could be, considering what he's been through. He's alive and he's going to stay that way. We're waiting to get some test results back, but . . ." He gave up trying to find the right words.
"Dad?"
He sighed. "There's no easy way to put this, Dexter, so I'll just say it. We may be premature in our diagnosis but as near as we can determine, Ben's in a coma. We'll need a few more hours to be sure. Given the arrhythmia and some problems he had breathing when we first got him here, Dr. Cardon's put him on life support."
A rush of heat swept through him and Dexter felt a moment of faintness. When he spoke, his voice sounded strangely hollow. "Will . . . will he recover?"
"We can't tell yet. I'm sorry, Dexter."
"What . . . what do you mean by 'as near as we can determine'?"
"You know Ben's not completely human. Certain parts of his brain are more active than a normal human's would be in a coma. John's hoping that will contribute to his recovery."
He knew perfectly well that Ben and Gwen shared an Anodite grandmother. Anodites were beings of pure energy, immensely powerful and free-spirited. Only Gwen seemed to have inherited Verdonna Tennyson's ability to manipulate energy, though it seemed his alien heritage might be the very thing to preserve Ben and allow his body to buffer the constant, low-level electrocution he had beeen subject to.
"Perhaps Gwen will be able to help."
"I thought of that. I hope she can. We'll find out soon enough."
A thought struck him about Ben and the aliens locked in the Omnitrix and some of the stories he had been told. "And maybe . . ."
"Dexter?"
He had not meant to speak out loud. Not yet. Dexter looked at his father, knowing he'd understand as he said, "A new hypothesis that calls for more research before active pursuit." Changing the subject, he looked at the clipboard. "What can we expect now?"
Amnesia, speech difficulties, motor control issues at best, he was told. At worst, Ben would remain in a coma, perhaps for the rest of his life.
"But that's rare," Utonium was quick to assure him. "Most comas don't last longer than five weeks."
"Will this facility be adequate for his needs?"
"For now at least it will."
"Have Kevin and Gwen and Nigel been told?"
"Kilroy's going to tell Nigel first, and he'll go see Kevin and Gwen on the way back."
That made sense. Nigel, if told to wait, would wait for permission to come here. Dexter sincerely doubted Kevin was in possession of such patience.
"What can I do, Dad?"
He smiled sadly, love for his son showing in his eyes and expression. "Don't give up."
Letting the Professor pull him in for a hug, Dexter leaned heavily against his side. A small snort escaped him. "Give up? Huh. I don't know how."
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
Technology had never frightened him. Indeed, Dexter embraced machines and computers wholeheartedly. They were the foremost outlet of his genius and the focus of his creative passion. Tonight, though, he could not stop a stab of fear that machines, these machines, might be Ben Tennyson's fate.
No.
The refusal was quiet and deep, a silent vow to his friend and to himself. He would not lose Ben. It was a simple as that. Whatever it took, he would do. Let the machines do their job and keep him alive. Dexter would do his job and find the means to restore Ben to his old self. Anything less was unacceptable.
He put his hand on Ben's, feeling warmth through his latex glove, and it struck him as very strange to see Ben without the Omnitrix on his left arm. Without it he somehow seemed . . . smaller. "Can he hear us?"
"Actually, he's asleep right now," Utonium replied. "But we don't know how much a person in a coma can hear or understand. I certainly wouldn't discuss anything sensitive in front of him."
They both jumped when another beep sounded. It took both scientists a moment to identify the source of the new chirp amidst the sounds of the respirator and monitors surrounding Ben. Finally Utonium raised his wrist communicator.
"Roy?"
"Incoming," was the whole of the demon's message.