Here's to the nights we felt alive
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry
Here's to goodbye, tomorrow's gonna come too soon
--from Here's To The Night by Eve 6
Local nurse killed in bizarre religious ceremony
Central Hospital is normally a calm, peaceful place for patients to recover. Friday night, it proved otherwise. Micah Balding, a patient at Central, woke late Friday evening to discover that he was being held hostage in his room. His nurse had apparently suffered a severe nervous breakdown due to an impending virus she'd caught, and was planning to baptise Balding to 'cleanse him of his sins'. Sarah Pruitt, 54 years old, was a trusted attendant, according to Dr. George Phillips. "She had been going home sick lately," Phillips said, "but we never thought anything was wrong." Balding, a little unnerved by this religious lunacy, got an even greater shock when he understood that Pruitt meant to kill him. "She told me she would be doing me a favor," he told reporters. However, Pruitt's plans were stopped just as she put them into action. Another nurse, Gabrielle Sterling, had arrived at the hospital soon after Pruitt to check on Balding. She watched from the hall, and when Pruitt reached for the knife, she took matters into her own hands. Sterling grabbed another knife and fatally stabbed the would-be-murderess, bringing an end to Balding's nightmare. With testimony from Balding and Edith Hoffman, another nurse attacked by Pruitt, police filed no charges against Sterling. No trial took place. Sterling couldn't be reached for comment, and Balding refused. But Central Hospital has surely been shaken up, as well as Balding. Nurses will be screened more thoroughly to prevent the chance of any more Sarah Pruitts.
Edith folded up the newspaper with a snort.
"Those reporters," she said disgustedly. "They blow everything out of proportion." Gabe laughed, but it sounded forced.
"Yeah." She turned to Micah and smiled, the grin looking relieved and shaky. "Are you all right? Really?"
"I was going to ask you the same question," he said quietly. Three days had gone by, and the horror of what had happened was still lingering in the room. It had made his stomach lurch when a nurse came in and changed the bloodstained sheets.
"I'm fine," Gabe replied, looking surprised. "You were the one who--" Micah put a finger over her lips.
"Sh," he murmured. "I don't wanna talk about this anymore." She blinked at him, then smiled a little.
"Okay." Her voice was muffled beneath the restraining finger. "Okay. We don't have to talk about it." Gabe paused, then took his hand and pulled it from her lips. "But we do have to talk about something." He frowned, feeling something serious coming on.
"What?" She didn't answer at first, just stroked his knuckles thoughtfully. Then she looked up.
"You've healed completely, Micah. Recovered entirely. The hospital is releasing you." There was a split-second of happiness
(I can leave)
before he realized what that meant.
"But-- my parents--" Gabe nodded, lowering her eyes.
"Yeah," she murmured. "I know." Micah felt a confused frown twist his brows.
(foster home)
"Where will I go?" he said weakly.
(foster home)
Still holding his hand, she drew a finger soothingly across his knuckles.
"I know." Gabe let out a little sigh, then brought his hand to her lips and kissed it lightly. "I know." Micah stared at her in disbelief.
"But-- but where will I--" She didn't answer this time. The girl just opened his hand and pressed his palm against her cheek. He felt anger and fear twisting his stomach, but he stroked her face with his thumb all the same. "Gabe," Micah said quietly, "Where will I go?"
"I don't know," she whispered.
(orphanage children's home foster parents)
"I know." The voice came from behind them, loud and unexpected. Micah whirled, afraid that someone had seen them, but it was only Edith. Gabe spoke, sounding a little bewildered.
"Edith, what are you talking about?" The chubby woman walked forward and smiled, lacing her hands over her ample stomach.
"I've spoken to the agency, and they're going to allow me to adopt you, Micah."
(!!!)
"Adopt me?" he echoed dully. Gabe's hand, which had transferred to his shoulder, squeezed it tightly.
"You'd do that, Edith?" Her voice sounded hopeful, but it held a little twinge of disbelief. Edith nodded, smiling pleasantly.
"Of course. I don't want to see him go to an orphanage." Gabe glanced at him, excited and trying not to show it.
"That means-- we'll be in the same house and everything--"
"Only if he agrees," Edith interjected. Micah looked up. Everything was happening so fast... he was still trying to get over the fact that he was being released from the hospital. "You'd only be with me a few years, until you're 18, but I can show you how to take care of yourself in this condition--" Edith blushed a little, looking embarrassed. "Well... I can help you with your wheelchair." Gabe's grip on his shoulder had loosened. She shot him a glance.
"So," she began uncomfortably. "Will you?" All eyes were on him.
(Well, what's it gonna be?)
Micah blinked, then swallowed a little.
"Of course," he said quietly. "What did you think I'd say?" Gabe threw her arms around his neck before he had even finished the sentence, and Edith clasped her hands with a smile.
"Good!" she cried cheerfully. "I'll go tell the agency right now!" She left as fast as her feet would take her. Gabe buried her face deep in his shoulder, and Micah was surprised to feel a few tears soak his shirt.
"Thank you," she murmured. He patted her back soothingly, quite startled that she was so happy.
(it's because she loves you idiot)
"No problem," Micah whispered, and closed his eyes. Everything was falling into place, surprisingly well.
(How much longer until we dive-bomb into the next shit pile, hm?)
But that didn't matter for the moment. What mattered was that Gabe was there and she needed him. And he needed her.
The papers signed, the hospital informed, and the room cleaned up, he was ready to leave. Edith was waiting outside in her car -- some sort of specialized thing for handicaps -- while Gabe and Micah headed out. She pushed his wheelchair slowly to the front door, then stopped.
"Micah," she began, dropping to a knee beside him. Gabe dug in her pockets for a moment, then fished out something. "I-- I want you to have this." She held it out towards him, and Micah squinted at it. It was a tiny silver angel on a chain, one blowing a horn. He frowned and shook his head.
"I can't--"
"It's Gabriel." She took his hand and opened it, pressing the necklace against his palm. "I figured that, what with all that happened, you had to have someone watching over you." Micah stared at her, then smiled a little and unfastened the clasp.
"Yeah," he murmured, hooking the chain securely behind his neck. "I'm pretty sure I had an angel." Gabe gave him a relieved grin and ruffled his hair.
"Thought so. C'mon, Edith's waiting in the car. I'll show you how to work the lift." She slipped behind him again and -- thunk thunk, over the curb -- they were heading across the parking lot, towards Edith's big silver monster. Micah sat quietly, idly fiddling with the angel around his neck. The Children were gone, the corn was behind him, and He Who Walks Behind The Rows had no doubt found more souls to destroy. He had found friendship, hope, and love.
(God does work in mysterious ways, I guess.)
And he was going home.