"Without Him: Part III"
By Adrienne
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Author's Note: This deviates from the actual storyline of season eight.
The darkness is so comforting, so warm. I can just lie here in bed and forget everything that's going on out in the world. I open my eyes and see nothing but darkness, and sense that he's no longer beside me. My heart seizes for a moment in panic, but then I remember he had an early shift. So this is what it will be like to wake up alone every morning, I groggily muse. Except his side of the bed won't be rumpled, and his scent will be gone. He won't be there to hold me through the night anymore or whisper sweet nothings in my ear.
What time is it? I look over at the clock and the glowing red numbers tell me it is 8:30 am, and I have to be up in a half-hour. I don't know that I can endure another day of work, the impatient nurses, the worried relatives, the irresponsible patients who are now paying for their mistakes. Not to mention Weaver and Romano who seem to constantly have me in the middle of a surgery versus ER tug-of-war.
I can feel exhaustion pulling me under once again, but I'm startled awake by a shrill baby's cry. "Ella, please go back to sleep, baby," I whisper, but the screaming persists, so I drag my body out of bed and slowly make my way to her room to start another day…
Get dressed, dress the baby, eat breakfast, feed the baby, gather everything for work and daycare, drive to work, drop the baby off at daycare, avoid Romano and sneak into my office. It's the same routine everyday. Scrub in, perform surgery, scrub out, do paper work, report to the ER and take part in yet another bloody trauma.
I'm tired of it all. I just want to get away and be with my baby and my husband, to not have to worry about this job and all of these strangers who I treat everyday. I'd love it if we could go somewhere and just relax with the little time we have left. There's still so much I want to tell him, so many things we had dreamed about doing and just never got around to.
Rachel recently moved in with us, and that hasn't helped anything. She hadn't been getting along with her mother but she's scared and misses Jenn though they were arguing. She's left all of her friends behind in St. Louis and has to start all over at a new school in the middle of a year. And she's here to watch her father die. No child should have to watch a parent die, but he wants her here at the end. I know he feels he's been a bad parent and now it's too late to make any of that up. Rachel is good with Ella but rather skittish around me, never sure of what to say. She's his daughter too and I want to know her, I want Ella to grow up knowing her older sister who knows so much more of their father.
I'm brought out of my reverie by a knock on my office door. "Come in," I call, and Susan Lewis walks in. This is rather unexpected and I'm sure the surprise is visible on my face. She smiles at me uneasily and I wonder what she's doing here. She's his best friend and recently returned from Arizona. In a way she threatens me because they get along so well, seem to have such a history. When they speak of the past it's with nostalgia and regret, as if one of them made a horrible mistake that they both now regret, but I never ask. I don't want to know. It's too late in the game to be angry or jealous.
"What can I do for you?" I ask his old friend, studying her worried features.
"Uh… I'm not really sure how to say this," she says. "I think you need to come downstairs."
Panic seizes me. Something's happened, something awful and it's not some anonymous patient, it's him, why else would Susan have come up here herself instead of the ER paging me? I'm not ready for him to be gone. "Wha—What happened?" I stammer.
"Mark… he had a seizure a few minutes ago." She looks into my eyes, and I see tears there. We both know what that means. The tumor is back, growing stronger. It won't be long now.
We ride down in the elevator together, in an awkward silence. She leads me to Exam Four and he's lying there, looking exhausted. There are dark bags under his eyes and his face has lines I've never seen before. He opens his eyes as I walk into the room and I find that I can't breathe. He looks so weak.
"Hey," he says, and beckons for me to come to his side.
"How are you feeling?" I ask. A stupid question, but I ask it anyway.
"I've been better," he replies, with his old sarcastic smile.
"Grand Mal seizure?"
"Yeah," he nods. The tears are forming in my eyes now. It stings my face as they fall and I can't stop them. "Hey, hey, hey. Don't cry," he whispers, stroking my face. "We knew this would come."
"I know…but…" I don't have the words to express what I'm feeling. I'm not ready to be alone, I'm not ready for him to leave me forever. I'm not ready to raise our daughter on my own.
"It's okay. I understand," he tells me and there's something in his eyes. There's more to tell me. "Two weeks ago the headaches started again. I went to neuro and got a CAT scan. The tumor's back, larger this time and bordering Brokis. I just didn't know how to tell you."
My first reaction is anger. How could he not tell me? "What do you mean you didn't know how to tell me? I'm your wife, I deserve to know!"
"I didn't want to worry you. I didn't want you to suffer for even longer. I thought it would be better if you didn't know for a while longer."
I feel betrayed. I know he did this for me, but I feel betrayed nonetheless. How could he not tell me something like this? Are there other things he hasn't told me?
"I'm not ready for this," I tell him.
"Neither am I," and he brings his face towards mine to kiss me. I'll miss that. Kissing him hello. Kissing him goodbye. Kissing him for no reason at all.
I clear my throat and wipe my tears away. "Do you have to stay here tonight?"
"No. Kerry said I could go home tonight, but have to stay for at least a few more hours… How's Ella? She was still asleep when I left this morning."
"Happy, as ever." Of course she's happy, she's a baby. She doesn't know her father's dying. "She ate a whole banana at breakfast."
He laughs. "She's getting big."
"Yeah," I smile.
"I was supposed to pick Rachel up from school today. Could you do that?"
"Of course. Do you want me to bring her here?"
He hesitates. "Do you think I should tell her yet?"
If he hadn't had a seizure today, how much longer would he have waited to tell me? "You have to sooner or later, and I think it's best she knows now, so she can prepare herself."
"Okay… Bring her here then."
I kiss him goodbye and numbly walk upstairs. I knew this would happen, I thought I'd be able to handle it. I deal with death everyday, but this… This is something completely different. I just want to be alone right now, to deal with this so I can be there for everyone else later, but Romano spots me before I can hide.
"Lizzie! Where have you been? We have a colostomy in fifteen."
Oh God, I completely forgot. "I can't, Robert. I'm sure you can handle it yourself."
"Why? Where do you have to be? Trouble in paradise?"
"Robert…" I begin, but the look in my eyes explains it all. "He had a seizure. I'm going to get my baby from daycare and pick my stepdaughter up from school."
His demeanor changes completely. "Do whatever you have to, Elizabeth. Take whatever time off you need, I'll cover your patients."
"Thank you, Robert." He does have a heart. He doesn't show it often, but it's there and when it comes to something truly important he does care. Not many people see it, but he has a very kind heart.
I get to the nursery and see the children playing inside, carefree. Ella is sitting in a corner, playing blocks with another baby girl about her age.
"You're early," the babysitter says, and all I reply is, "Yeah." Ella smiles when she sees me and reaches her arms out to be picked up.
"Hi baby," I say and she gurgles in response. "Did you have a good day? Were you a good girl?" I ask as I gather her diaper bag. She looks so much like him that it hurts. She has his eyes and his mouth. Her hair is blonde and slightly curly, like his was when he was a baby. I pray to God she doesn't grow up looking too much like him. I wouldn't be able to look at her without feeling a stab of pain. I look away guiltily for thinking that. How could I hate looking at my own child? She's my daughter, a beautiful little girl and I love her so much that I would die for her.
We drive to Rachel's school in the rain. Ella's fallen asleep and I watch the kids pour out of the school, getting into their cars, running in the rain or climbing onto the bus. Rachel walks out holding hands with an older-looking boy and walks over to the car.
"I thought Dad was picking me up," she says, confused.
"Yes, he was, but he asked me to."
"Oh. Was the ER really busy?"
"Who was that boy you were with, Rachel?"
"Ben, my boyfriend," she replies. "Why couldn't Dad pick me up?"
"Is he in the same grade as you?" I ask in a rather feeble attempt to avoid the subject.
"No, he's a junior," she says, sensing something's wrong.
"That's nice," I say. Rachel looks in the back seat and sees Ella sleeping. "What's wrong, Elizabeth? Where's Dad?"
I look at her and try to find the right words, but there are none. "Your father… he um… He had a seizure today at work."
"Is he all right?"
No, of course he isn't all right! He's dying! "Uh, yeah, he's fine now. He just has to stay at the hospital for a few more hours this evening for observation but he should be able to come home tonight. He wanted me to bring you to see him."
She doesn't say anything. What must be going through her mind right now? She's quiet for the rest of the ride to County and when we park in the ramp, she finally asks. "Is it the tumor? Is it back?" She looks me straight in the eye. She never does that.
I nod. "Yes, it is, Rachel." Her face falls. She still had hope left that he would be okay and I just killed it. She gets out of the car, and I retrieve Ella, following her into the ER. As we walk to Exam Four various doctors and nurses greet us, Lydia and Haleh commenting on how big Rachel and Ella have both gotten. I'd forgot that they've known Rachel since she was a little girl.
Ella starts to fuss; she wants Rachel to hold her, and Rachel takes her, giving the baby a few kisses on the head and tickling her. We stop outside Exam Four and look in. He's sleeping and I notice now that he looks thinner, paler. Rachel sees this too and sits on the bench across the hall.
"Are you all right?" I ask. I don't know what to do if she says "no." I don't know how to comfort her. I'm not her mother, I'm her father's second wife and I know she resents me for it. She's still holding Ella, distractedly stroking her arm.
She looks up at me with his eyes, with the same eyes I know Ella will grow up having. "I—I didn't notice until now how…sick he looks… There isn't much time left, is there?" Tears are rolling down her face now.
I sit next to her and wrap my arms around her instinctively. We're both surprised by this. We cry together and Ella looks at us, confused.
"I don't know what to do," she cries. "I don't know what to say to him."
"He just wants you to be there, Rachel. He's your father and he loves you. He wishes he had been there more for you and right now all he wants is to be with you." Where did those words come from? I knew them, but I didn't know I could say them, especially to her.
She looks up and nods at me. I take Ella back and we walk into the room together where he's waking up. He smiles. "Hey, Rach."
"Hi Dad," she whispers, sitting on the edge of the bed. They have a lot to say, and I leave them to say it. They need this time alone, just as father and daughter. I walk back through the ER and see the familiar faces. I talk briefly with Kerry who gives me a stoic briefing of his condition and then before parting finally shows me emotion. "I'm sorry," she simply says, walking away. So am I.
I'm sorry he's sick. I'm sorry he's dying. I'm sorry that I wasn't a better wife, that I'm not a better stepmother to Rachel. I'm sorry for every damn thing I've ever done. Right now I'm sorry for myself and for my daughter who will never know how much her father loved her or what a wonderful man he was. Is. What a wonderful man he is, I correct myself.
The rain is still falling outside and I feel a chill entering my body, so I pull Ella closer to me. He's slipping away and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I'm a doctor, I'm supposed to save people's lives, and I do everyday, but I can't save the life of my own husband, of the man I love and vowed to cherish until death do us part. When we were first engaged and I dreamt of saying those vows, I didn't think death would have anything to do with our marriage, with our life. Death was a distant threat, so far removed from my thoughts that I believed "until death do us part" wouldn't come until we were old and had lived a wonderful life together.
Suddenly, I feel very alone. He's slipping away slowly, and there's nothing I can do.