I'm so sorry, I know it's been ages! The good news is thanks to all the madness that erupted in the world this week, I should have a little more free time for the foreseeable future and I'm going to need a distraction, so hopefully I will get the next chapter up faster!
Please do let me know if you're still reading this. Your support means the world.
-IseultLaBelle x
Chapter 16
Aberdeen, 31 March 1991
"Come on then, Chloe. Come on, shall we see if we can work out where we're going?" Ange babbles mindlessly to her daughter, holds her tightly in her arms as they step off the bus. "Yeah? Are you going to help Mummy?"
"Alala."
"You are? Good girl. You're my brilliant little helper, aren't you? Hey? I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes. I mean, okay, so you're not much use practical help-wise just yet, are you? But you're great for moral support."
"Aaaaa." Chloe blinks up at her happily, reaches out to grab a handful of her hair.
"Hey, don't pull, please, Chloe. Good girl. Okay. Okay, Chloe," Ange glances around nervously, self-conscious, trying to get her bearings. "Okay, I think it must be around here somewhere. So we're going to sit down here on a bench for a minute, alright? Can you sit on Mummy's lap for a minute nicely while I work out what I'm supposed to be doing with the scarf? There you go. I don't think we need to do you, do we? You've got your hat, that'll do. And if they don't like it having bear ears, they'll just have to deal with it."
"Gagagaga."
"I know, it's a brilliant hat, isn't it? You've got Mummy's friend Seonaid to thank for that, haven't you, do you remember? She thought you'd make a cute polar bear. Which you definitely do. You're adorable, aren't you? Hey? Mummy thinks you are."
"Aaaara," says Chloe, curls into her chest.
"You're welcome. Come on, then. So Mummy's got a vague idea of where she's going, we're going to have to work the rest out as we go along, okay? But we're looking for a white building with a blue dome. Yeah? You don't have a clue what I'm on about, do you, we haven't mastered colours yet. You can still give it a go, though, can't you? Yeah? White building with a blue dome."
"Uhh."
"Exactly." Ange cuddles Chloe to her chest protectively, suddenly on high alert as they set off in which she's more or less certain must be the right direction.
She's still not entirely sure this is a good idea.
It just feels… important, somehow.
Sometimes, anyway.
Sometimes, she's completely and utterly convinced that she owes it to Chloe to do these things.
And it doesn't matter that she's far too young to remember; in a way, that's almost the point.
Maybe right now, while Chloe is still a baby, is exactly the time she needs to be doing these things.
That way, she'll always be able to tell herself she made a token gesture effort, keep the option open, in a way.
But she'll never have to explain why to Chloe if she decides it isn't working out, not the right thing to do after all.
Is there even a right thing to do, in this situation?
Ange isn't sure.
She's not convinced she ever will be.
She's got time, Ange reminds herself, shifts Chloe in her arms.
She's got a good couple of years before her daughter starts noticing everyone else has a dad and she doesn't, plenty of time to decide how she wants to do this, how much she wants to tell her, if anything.
"I hoping you're just going to instinctively know what you're doing, once we get there," Ange warns Chloe now, balances her on her hip with one hand, pulls the map out of her handbag with the other, lost. "Because I'm not going to have a clue, sweetheart. Not a clue."
They fall back into silence again, after the momentary interruption of a trip upstairs to phlebotomy, Ange, Dom and Peigi providing samples to be compared against Chloe's.
(It takes them a full fifteen minutes of gentle persuading and coaxing to finally drag Ange away from Chloe and up to Phlebotomy, adamant that there's no point, that she won't be a match anyway and they're making her leave her daughter for no reason whatsoever, that she'll never forgive them all if they force her up to phlebotomy on a completely pointless mission to give a blood sample that she already knows will no use to Chloe anyway and she goes downhill in the meantime, until finally they compromise and Fletch promises to stay with Chloe in her place, send someone up to tell her the moment anything changes.)
There's nothing anyone can say.
There's nothing that can be said or done to make any of this better, nothing to do but wait, and so that's exactly what they do.
Because it's all down to Chloe now, Dom realises with a sinking feeling in his heart, all of them back crammed into his half-sister's hospital room, watching her breathing, her sats, her vitals, her total lack of responsiveness.
Everything that can be is already being done, medically speaking, and now all they can do is wait.
Chloe is the one who has to fight this now.
That said, if only they could do this part for her, provide her with a donor match to buy her some time, they might just make her fight an awful lot easier.
They'll rush the bloodwork through, Serena had assured Ange.
She will personally ensure that the bloodwork is pushed to the top of the priority list and rushed through, that they'll have the results back within an hour, know if any of them are going to be a donor possibility for Chloe.
The trouble is, Dom wonders if Serena might just have made matters worse by telling Ange that, because now she knows.
Ange was going to work it out either way, of course. She's not stupid. This is practically her area of expertise, after all, and the combined AAU ED team treating Chloe seem only too aware of it, have avoided going into more detail than necessary around her.
It's perfectly clear that they're doing it because they know letting Ange in on all the specifics of Chloe's condition, her response or total lack of to the treatments they've tried her on so far, is only going to work her further and further into a panic.
Emphasising to Ange that their blood samples are being rushed through by phlebotomy is only going to convince her that this is all far, far more urgent than Serena would have her believe.
Chloe shouldn't be rejecting the prosthetic graft this quickly.
It's only been a few hours since she was brought out of surgery, she shouldn't be showing signs of rejection already, even with sepsis.
It's bad.
It's far, far worse than anyone wants to admit, come to that.
Deep down, Dom knows it is.
And almost as though to prove his point well and truly, Ange seems to have fallen apart again now they're back from phlebotomy.
Somehow, she'd seemed to manage to hold herself together upstairs, Dom realises, looking back now.
Perhaps it was the practical element, the fact it was something she could do to feel as though she was helping Chloe, a way of regaining a little control over the situation in her head.
(Because despite her insisting that she knew already, inexplicably so, maternal instinct or whatever it was telling her that her bloods were going to come back not a match for her daughter, that all of their bloods would, Dom saw clearly the slightest traces of hope in his birth mother's eyes, once they finally managed to convince her the world wouldn't end if she ventured upstairs for ten minutes, trusted Fletch to stay with Chloe.)
Now, however, back in Chloe's hospital side room, it's a very different story.
Whoever said that doctors make the worst patients didn't have it quite right, Dom decides, watching Ange now, whispering mindlessly to her daughter, pain and protectiveness etched across her face.
Doctors may well make the worst patients.
But they make far worse ITU relatives.
"Is there really nothing else they can do for her to try and reduce the edema?" Ange asks now to no one in particular, frustrated, examines Chloe's wrists as though she's her doctor, not her mother. "The dialysis doesn't seem to be doing anything, does it? She still looks like she's so…"
"I know. Alicia was talking about trying her with a drain, if she doesn't improve on the dialysis," Dom explains apologetically. "Before you got here. She said Chloe's a particularly bad case, because of… because of the severity of the sepsis."
"Do you think it's not just the edema?" Ange worries. "Because it could be lymphedema, too, couldn't it? Given… given everything else. I don't want them leaving her until she ends up with cellulitis, she's far too young to be having to deal with that…"
"We can ask Serena, when she comes back with your blood results," Peigi reminds her gently. "Chloe's fine for just now, Angel, she's okay to wait for…"
"She's not, though!" Ange snaps. "She must be in so much pain, just from the edema, or edema with lymphedema or whatever it is, she shouldn't still be this swollen. She could be in agony, for all we know, and she can't tell us, she can't…"
"They've got her on codeine, Ange. She's fine. The ED team are monitoring her vitals, they'll up her pain relief if they feel she needs it. You have to trust them," Fletch tries carefully. "I know it's hard. She's your daughter, of course you're going to worry. That's natural. But let the ED team worry about Chloe's pain relief, okay? We'll ask them about the edema, the next time someone comes to check on Chloe. But It's not your job to be worrying about her care. Alright? Not now. It's your job to be her mum. She's got Serena and Alicia to get her through this medically-speaking, this is their area of expertise. This is what they do. But you're the only one who can comfort her."
"If she even knows I'm here," Ange whispers faintly, one hand massaging Chloe's, the other hovering over the mouth as though she's going to be sick. "Do you know I'm here, Chloe? Hey? I know, my sweet girl. I know, it's alright. I'm not leaving you. I don't care if you know I'm here or not, I'm not leaving you. I'm staying right here. You're doing so, so well, sweetheart. You're going to be fine."
"She'll know you're here, Angel," Peigi tries to reassure her. "Even if she doesn't know consciously, she'll know. Instinctively, or whatever you want to call it. You remember what it was like when you had her. She was always so much calmer when you were there, wasn't she, she'd be a nightmare for them on the NICU overnight and then as soon as she had you back…"
"She's not a baby anymore though, Mum."
Dom decides this probably isn't the moment to point out that this fact doesn't seem to stop her treating Chloe like one.
"I know she isn't, mo ghràdh. I know. But you're still her mum," Peigi points out, crosses the room, squeezes Ange's shoulders. "She's still going to find it reassuring, knowing you're here. And she willknow. God only knows how she knew you were there when she was on the neonatal unit, but she always did, didn't she? They only ever struggled to keep her stable when you weren't there, remember? She knew. You're her mum. It doesn't matter how old she is, you'll always be her mum."
"That's just it, though, isn't it?" Ange protests despairingly. "I've let her down. I'm her mum, for god's sake, she's supposed to be able to trust me to look after her. This hasn't come out of nowhere, Mum. Nobody just 'gets' sepsis, let alone severe sepsis. Not… not this kind of sepsis. She'll have had infected wounds for a week, at least, weeks, maybe even… god, I don't want to think about that. And I missed it. I'm her mum. I see her most days, even if it's just at work. I should have noticed. It's not like I haven't seen her self-harm before, is it, I know what signs to look for. Or I shouldknow. I should have realised she wasn't coping, I should have known she'd have… she'd… resort to… this." She wipes at her eyes furiously now with one hand, clings onto her daughter with the other. "What with everything with Evan, after I… well, we all know what I did, don't we? I should have told her. I should have sat her down and told her properly, I should have done it years ago. I should never have left it until she refused to speak to me for weeks. I should have made sure she knew she could talk to me, I should have known she wasn't coping, I should have got her help well before it came to this…"
"You can't change any of that now, Angel. Chloe knows you love her," Peigi reminds her softly. "I know things have been a bit… difficult, between you two lately, but she does know you love her. I promise she does. Don't you, Chloe?" she tries, and it's only as his grandmother, birth grandmother, whatever she is to him, intervenes, that Dom realises she's the only one out of all of them who's still talking to Chloe as though she should be included in all this, as though she might be able to hear them, understand, might need more involvement than Ange's frantic attempts at reassuring her. "You know how much your mum loves you, don't you, mo ghràdh? Hey? I didn't see it either, Angel," she points out, closes her eyes for a moment, sighs. "I've had her with me the past few days, she only left on Sunday. I should have said something. I suspected she was self-harming- I had no idea how bad it was, but I suspected it. If you're responsible for this, I am too. I should have…"
"I still don't understand what she was doing in Glasgow." Ange turns Chloe's hand over in her own absentmindedly, inspects her fingers; swollen, purple, still. "I didn't… she told me she was just spending her week off at home, we had..." she glances between Fletch and Dom awkwardly now, ashamed, can't seem to bring herself to meet their eyes. "Oh Chloe, sweetheart, I'm sorry. We had a bit of a… not an argument. A misunderstanding. It was my fault, it was all my fault, I think I made her feel like… I don't know. Like I resent her, like I don't love her…" She trails off, voice breaking.
"She knows you love her," Fletch insists. "It was just a misunderstanding, Ange. That's all. It was my fault, I should have thought to… it was just a misunderstanding," he stammers again, suddenly aware of Peigi watching him, eagle-like, waiting for an explanation. "It was…"
"No, it was my fault," Ange interrupts. "I let her down, I made her think…" She shakes her head. "Chloe called me, she said she was… I'm trying to work out the timings of it all. She said she was at home, but I… She asked me if I was free that night, so she must have been at home, mustn't she? But then she told me she was spending her week off at home, but if she'd been in Glasgow before she came up to you, Mum…"
"I've got no idea how long she was there before she called me, Angel," Peigi admits. "I couldn't get much out of her. She just said she'd been staying with a friend in Glasgow, when she called me, and could she come up and see me before she drove home. She didn't tell me much about it, really, she… I don't know. I got the impression she might have had a falling out with whoever it was, or something, she really didn't want to talk about it. Whatever it was. But she told her flatmates she was staying with you?"
Ange nods. "She called me last Tuesday. She… she must have been in Glasgow, mustn't she? It doesn't make any sense, unless… I don't know. She asked me if I was free that evening, and I'd… it was just so unfortunate. I'd already made plans to go out with Fletch and Dom after work, and it was… we didn't mean to leave her out, Mum, don't look at me like that. That's not helping, don't you think I feel bad enough already? Did she say something?"
"She might have mentioned she was a bit upset and she didn't want to talk about it," Peigi admits. "She insisted you and her hadn't had a falling out but whenever I tried to bring it up…"
"We didn't fall out. Well, not exactly. It was just… it was all just such a mess. I'd… that day was…" Ange sighs, closes her eyes. "Thirty years to the day since she was conceived. There, we all know what I mean, there's no need to spell it out, is there? We all know. I'd been out with Dom and Fletch the night before- and Chloe was working, before you say anything, Mum, she didn't come because she was working late. And you know how she feels about nightclubs, anyway. I had… I don't know. It was there, it was in the back of my mind, it all got a bit much for me at one point, I told them why. Fletch thought it might be a nice idea to go out for dinner after work, the next day, to take my mind off it all a bit…"
"And that part was completely my fault," Fletch insists. "Completely. I… I mean, yes, it was just the three of us there for that conversation, about… about why you were upset. But I should have realised not inviting Chloe wasn't a good idea, given the circumstances, I should have given her the option. I was stupid, I… I don't know. I thought I was doing the right thing not inviting her, I guess. I shouldn't have done it, I should have given you the option, Ange. I just thought… I don't know. I thought having her there might… bring it all back for you, I guess. Remind you. I just wanted you to have a night away from it all, I didn't want you to be upset, and I thought… I didn't want to make you feel you couldn't…"
"That'swhat you were thinking?" Ange stares at him coldly now, fire in her eyes, hugs Chloe protectively. "You thought… I thought we didn't ask Chloe because it was just the three of us at the time. I didn't realise you had some kind of ulterior motive!"
"I didn't have an ulterior motive!" Fletch protests feebly. "I just… I thought… if you needed to talk about anything, I thought if Chloe wasn't there you'd be more able to…"
"Chloe has got absolutely nothing to with what happened to me!" Amge snaps, furious. "Nothing! Do you understand? I need you to get that into your head, Fletch! Because if you ever, ever imply that my daughter is somehow responsible for…"
"I didn't imply anything of the sort, Ange!"
"No, you didn't think! That's what you did, Fletch, you didn't think! And I swear to god, you dare make Chloe feel like she has something to be ashamed of again, I will string you up and cut your b…"
But she doesn't get a chance to finish.
As if in protest, Chloe's sats machine wails, flashes in warning, blood pressure dropping, heart rate beginning to climb alarmingly, out of control.
Ange bursts into tears.
