Author's Notes: This is a really short chapter, but I promise to get a super long chapter or maybe even two up tomorrow. I'm not doing anything, it's the weekend, and I'm attacking this fic. I'm not ready to finish it just yet, so you guys have to bear with me through it. I'm sorry I havent' updated in a while, it's just I've been so busy with basketball and homework, it's crazy. So I jsut wanted to say thank you to everyone reviewed and stuck with me thus far. You guys are the best bunch of readers I have ever had the pleasure of pleasing, and I just wanted you to know that I love you for it! Thank you so much, and I promise to get alot of writing up this weekend.
~*~
She laid her head against the metal bars, exhaustion defining her present state. She spent her shifts working, and all her other time with John. She hated to see him in so much pain. It was all his fault. She needed someone, something to blame. And she couldn't blame herself. The whole time she had been worrying about passing on her familie's genes, making her kids Bipolar. She never once thought there was something wrong with him, with his side of the family. And now here he was. He was stable, but he wasn't improving. He was still on the vent, in seclusion. Any little infection now could be deadly. She knew the drill. Everything she learned during med school came back to her, his chances of survival were low, almost impossible, but her heart still held hope. It was so confusing, so deadly at times. She needed to hang on and let go at the same time. She just couldn't let him go without a fight. He was her son. She would do anything to take away all his pain and suffering. He didn't deserve this. Her life was falling apart, she hadn't been home in days, she practically lived at the hospital. She hadn't seen Annette in the same amount of time. She just kept on praying, hoping that he would be okay. She couldn't go through the day knowing that it might be the last time she sees her son alive. He could deteriorte at any moment. The DNR was coming around the corner.
She looked at her watch, it was about eight thirty. She had a shift at nine. She hadn't had a good night's sleep in what seemed like weeks. She spent all her free time in the little light blue room with John. She held his hand, talking to him. He had been lucid for a few minutes at times and she hated having him be alone. He would feel scared and abandoned. She didn't want to leave him. Reluctantly she began to pull herself up from the chair she had gotten to accustomed to. She went over to him, kissing his forehead, brushing his hair back. She kissed his hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
"I love you, John."
She pulled herself away from him, walking out the door, trying not to look back. Every time she walked out that door, she thought that it was time. She would never see her son again. She would never hear his laugh or his sarcastic comments. She would never be able to spend time talking to him, she would never pull herself back together if she lost him.
She was heading towards the elevator, dropping by the nurse's station, giving her usual orders to page her STAT if anything happened, good or bad. She was zoning out. The world was a blurr to her. She couldn't make everything right for her children like she used to be able to. She couldn't fix him. As much as she wished she could, she was useless. Sher heard her name being called, but it took her a while to formulate a response, or even acknowledge who it was. She recognized the voice as Carter's. He was another situtation altogether. He was the father of her children, he was taking care of her daugther while she spent her life at the hospital with her son, he was also the one who gave her son this disease. She hated him. She despised him. She never wanted to see or hear from him again. But she couldn't do that. Not because she didn't want to, but because it wasn't fair to her children. But then again, her children didn't deserve to suffer. Her son was in his room, almost on his deathbed, tubes and wires coming out of ever place possible because of him. It was because of him that he was here. Because of him her life was slowly withering away.
"What do you want?"
She didn't feel like talking to him, she didn't want anything from him. She wanted to get as far away as possible. Her voice snapped at him. Instituting her continuing rage at him, hoping he would disappear.
"It's Annette."
Terror rippled through her body in jolt. Not her daugther too. One was enough, she wouldn't make it. She wouldn't be able to keep her life together any longer.
"What happened?!?"
Shock, fear, all present in her voice.
"She thinks you don't care or love her anymore... She hasn't seen you in days."
A sense of calm ran over her body. At least physically Annnette was okay. She knew John was in the hospital, but she had made it very clear to Carter that she didn't want her to know more than she needed to. She was young, she didn't need the stress. She probably wouldn't understand how dangerous the situation was. She was better left in the dark than knowing the full picture.
She closed her eyes in response to him, running her hand through her mussled mane, pulling an elastic off her wrist and putting her up in a makeshift ponytail. She was a failure. She was a failure at being a mother. She knew it would ultimately come to this. She couldn't take away her children's pain, she couldn't give them a good life. She couldn't support them or be there for them. She couldn't give them everything she didn't have, they didn't have the model childhood, worry and carefree. They didn't have a stable home enviorment, the white picket fence and all. She would have given her own life for them, just so they could be healthy and happy. But she couldn't, and now she was failling both. Failing John by not fixing him. Failling Annette by not being there for her, for lying to her, for expecting Carter to do everything. She had been playing favorites, spending more time with John, forgetting about her daugther. She was a horrible person. She didn't deserve these kids. They didn't deserve a screwed up mother like her. They deserved better. They were better than she could have ever imagined.
She started to look down at the linoleum floor, still shiny from wax. She didn't know what to say, how she was supposed to respond. How do you tell your daughter her brother is dying and she needs to be with him. She'll get back to you after he's dead? These days seemed to circle endlessly. No mornings or nights. Just hours beyond hours of hurt and pain, sadness and stress, worry and prayer. All she had was hope. False hopes that would never come true, never win over the laws of medicine. She wanted to get away. She wanted to run away and leave everything behind. But she couldn't. It had disappeared as an option the day she decided she was keeping the two.
She began to spin around, heading towards the elevator. But she didn't get far.
"Abby, are you okay?"
No. She was never okay. She hadn't ever been okay. This added weight on her shoulders only made everything worse. She pictured every man she ever met leaving her, and she would still hold her own, she pictured her mother and brother killing themselves in some huge stand, but she would break through it. But she never pictured herself in this position, holding her son's hand while he left this world. She couldn't fight his fight for him. She couldn't do anything but sit and watch. The chemo had been hell. Most of his hair fell out after the first round, but he still had a little less than half a head left. He was so sulken and pale. He wasn't awake, and she was particially glad he wasn't because chemo involved tremendous amounts of pain and weakness, dizziness. Nothing a human being should have to go through. Nothing her son should have to go through.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
When did he begin caring so much about her? He never cared about her. He probably didn't care now. It just seemed appropriate or right. Some kind of quick fix for the next few days. She didn't stop blaming him. Every time she thought about him, the picture of John flashed into her head. She needed to work around him, try to see Annette without involving him too much.
She was still standing in the same positon she was earlier. She was facing the elevator, rooted her spot. She couldn't turn around and look at him. She couldn't move towards the elevator, so she just stood there.
"Abby, take care of yourself."
She knew she needed to take care of herself. She knew her kids needed her, but it was always easier said than done. She needed to work, to pull of shifts, they need the money, the bills needed to be paid. She needed to be with John. She couldn't let him be alone. She didn't want him to feel deserted. She was slowly killing herself, but she would keep on going until she wouldn't be able to go on any longer, and she had a high tolerence. She had gone through so much in her lifetime, struggles and hardships where nothing to her anymore.
She felt her eyes briming with tears. Who was she kididng? She was going to burn out in a few minutes. Her world was coming crashing down, headfirst, throwing everything into unknown chaos, destorying everything good, evil and suffering prevailing in her life. She wouldn't be able to pick herself back up granted John doesn't live. She needs nothing but her two children. Everything else would work out somehow, granted that she had both of them, and they were strong and healthy. But she wasn't strong. Far from it. she was weaker than she had ever been before in her life. She needed to keep that inner hope, if not for her, then for him.But it was getting harder and harder to do everyday. The hours that passed with no change. The days without a single improvement, only slow deteriorioration. This was it. This was the big fall. She was diving headfirst into hell and the bottom was paved with cold, hard cement.
A sob escaped her body. She couldn't break down now. Especially not in front of him. Anyone but him. He had never seen her like this, he had never seen her cry. He was never supposed to. She wrapped her arms around her body, feeling his gaze still upon her. She felt the first few tears come slowly down, quietly streaming until the dam broke and the attack began. She tasted the salt upon her dry lips, the burn that the tears produced. Another sob broke out, this one brinigng her down. She felt his arms go around her and she nestled in closely to his chest, the tears either running down her face, over her lips, or absorbing into his blue shirt. His hands ran up and down her spine and back, he was just silently holding her, and she just continued to cry. She fell apart. She was falling anymore, she had hit bottom. Nothing in the world mattered to her anymore. Anything that happened past this point was just icing on the cake. And she stood there, in his arms, crying for everything, the world, the pain, the suffereing, everything she had kept inside herself for so long was let out. And maybe after this she would be able to regain some of that undying strength she had always possed. But for the moment, nothing but tears could help. Tears and him.
~*~
She laid her head against the metal bars, exhaustion defining her present state. She spent her shifts working, and all her other time with John. She hated to see him in so much pain. It was all his fault. She needed someone, something to blame. And she couldn't blame herself. The whole time she had been worrying about passing on her familie's genes, making her kids Bipolar. She never once thought there was something wrong with him, with his side of the family. And now here he was. He was stable, but he wasn't improving. He was still on the vent, in seclusion. Any little infection now could be deadly. She knew the drill. Everything she learned during med school came back to her, his chances of survival were low, almost impossible, but her heart still held hope. It was so confusing, so deadly at times. She needed to hang on and let go at the same time. She just couldn't let him go without a fight. He was her son. She would do anything to take away all his pain and suffering. He didn't deserve this. Her life was falling apart, she hadn't been home in days, she practically lived at the hospital. She hadn't seen Annette in the same amount of time. She just kept on praying, hoping that he would be okay. She couldn't go through the day knowing that it might be the last time she sees her son alive. He could deteriorte at any moment. The DNR was coming around the corner.
She looked at her watch, it was about eight thirty. She had a shift at nine. She hadn't had a good night's sleep in what seemed like weeks. She spent all her free time in the little light blue room with John. She held his hand, talking to him. He had been lucid for a few minutes at times and she hated having him be alone. He would feel scared and abandoned. She didn't want to leave him. Reluctantly she began to pull herself up from the chair she had gotten to accustomed to. She went over to him, kissing his forehead, brushing his hair back. She kissed his hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
"I love you, John."
She pulled herself away from him, walking out the door, trying not to look back. Every time she walked out that door, she thought that it was time. She would never see her son again. She would never hear his laugh or his sarcastic comments. She would never be able to spend time talking to him, she would never pull herself back together if she lost him.
She was heading towards the elevator, dropping by the nurse's station, giving her usual orders to page her STAT if anything happened, good or bad. She was zoning out. The world was a blurr to her. She couldn't make everything right for her children like she used to be able to. She couldn't fix him. As much as she wished she could, she was useless. Sher heard her name being called, but it took her a while to formulate a response, or even acknowledge who it was. She recognized the voice as Carter's. He was another situtation altogether. He was the father of her children, he was taking care of her daugther while she spent her life at the hospital with her son, he was also the one who gave her son this disease. She hated him. She despised him. She never wanted to see or hear from him again. But she couldn't do that. Not because she didn't want to, but because it wasn't fair to her children. But then again, her children didn't deserve to suffer. Her son was in his room, almost on his deathbed, tubes and wires coming out of ever place possible because of him. It was because of him that he was here. Because of him her life was slowly withering away.
"What do you want?"
She didn't feel like talking to him, she didn't want anything from him. She wanted to get as far away as possible. Her voice snapped at him. Instituting her continuing rage at him, hoping he would disappear.
"It's Annette."
Terror rippled through her body in jolt. Not her daugther too. One was enough, she wouldn't make it. She wouldn't be able to keep her life together any longer.
"What happened?!?"
Shock, fear, all present in her voice.
"She thinks you don't care or love her anymore... She hasn't seen you in days."
A sense of calm ran over her body. At least physically Annnette was okay. She knew John was in the hospital, but she had made it very clear to Carter that she didn't want her to know more than she needed to. She was young, she didn't need the stress. She probably wouldn't understand how dangerous the situation was. She was better left in the dark than knowing the full picture.
She closed her eyes in response to him, running her hand through her mussled mane, pulling an elastic off her wrist and putting her up in a makeshift ponytail. She was a failure. She was a failure at being a mother. She knew it would ultimately come to this. She couldn't take away her children's pain, she couldn't give them a good life. She couldn't support them or be there for them. She couldn't give them everything she didn't have, they didn't have the model childhood, worry and carefree. They didn't have a stable home enviorment, the white picket fence and all. She would have given her own life for them, just so they could be healthy and happy. But she couldn't, and now she was failling both. Failing John by not fixing him. Failling Annette by not being there for her, for lying to her, for expecting Carter to do everything. She had been playing favorites, spending more time with John, forgetting about her daugther. She was a horrible person. She didn't deserve these kids. They didn't deserve a screwed up mother like her. They deserved better. They were better than she could have ever imagined.
She started to look down at the linoleum floor, still shiny from wax. She didn't know what to say, how she was supposed to respond. How do you tell your daughter her brother is dying and she needs to be with him. She'll get back to you after he's dead? These days seemed to circle endlessly. No mornings or nights. Just hours beyond hours of hurt and pain, sadness and stress, worry and prayer. All she had was hope. False hopes that would never come true, never win over the laws of medicine. She wanted to get away. She wanted to run away and leave everything behind. But she couldn't. It had disappeared as an option the day she decided she was keeping the two.
She began to spin around, heading towards the elevator. But she didn't get far.
"Abby, are you okay?"
No. She was never okay. She hadn't ever been okay. This added weight on her shoulders only made everything worse. She pictured every man she ever met leaving her, and she would still hold her own, she pictured her mother and brother killing themselves in some huge stand, but she would break through it. But she never pictured herself in this position, holding her son's hand while he left this world. She couldn't fight his fight for him. She couldn't do anything but sit and watch. The chemo had been hell. Most of his hair fell out after the first round, but he still had a little less than half a head left. He was so sulken and pale. He wasn't awake, and she was particially glad he wasn't because chemo involved tremendous amounts of pain and weakness, dizziness. Nothing a human being should have to go through. Nothing her son should have to go through.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
When did he begin caring so much about her? He never cared about her. He probably didn't care now. It just seemed appropriate or right. Some kind of quick fix for the next few days. She didn't stop blaming him. Every time she thought about him, the picture of John flashed into her head. She needed to work around him, try to see Annette without involving him too much.
She was still standing in the same positon she was earlier. She was facing the elevator, rooted her spot. She couldn't turn around and look at him. She couldn't move towards the elevator, so she just stood there.
"Abby, take care of yourself."
She knew she needed to take care of herself. She knew her kids needed her, but it was always easier said than done. She needed to work, to pull of shifts, they need the money, the bills needed to be paid. She needed to be with John. She couldn't let him be alone. She didn't want him to feel deserted. She was slowly killing herself, but she would keep on going until she wouldn't be able to go on any longer, and she had a high tolerence. She had gone through so much in her lifetime, struggles and hardships where nothing to her anymore.
She felt her eyes briming with tears. Who was she kididng? She was going to burn out in a few minutes. Her world was coming crashing down, headfirst, throwing everything into unknown chaos, destorying everything good, evil and suffering prevailing in her life. She wouldn't be able to pick herself back up granted John doesn't live. She needs nothing but her two children. Everything else would work out somehow, granted that she had both of them, and they were strong and healthy. But she wasn't strong. Far from it. she was weaker than she had ever been before in her life. She needed to keep that inner hope, if not for her, then for him.But it was getting harder and harder to do everyday. The hours that passed with no change. The days without a single improvement, only slow deteriorioration. This was it. This was the big fall. She was diving headfirst into hell and the bottom was paved with cold, hard cement.
A sob escaped her body. She couldn't break down now. Especially not in front of him. Anyone but him. He had never seen her like this, he had never seen her cry. He was never supposed to. She wrapped her arms around her body, feeling his gaze still upon her. She felt the first few tears come slowly down, quietly streaming until the dam broke and the attack began. She tasted the salt upon her dry lips, the burn that the tears produced. Another sob broke out, this one brinigng her down. She felt his arms go around her and she nestled in closely to his chest, the tears either running down her face, over her lips, or absorbing into his blue shirt. His hands ran up and down her spine and back, he was just silently holding her, and she just continued to cry. She fell apart. She was falling anymore, she had hit bottom. Nothing in the world mattered to her anymore. Anything that happened past this point was just icing on the cake. And she stood there, in his arms, crying for everything, the world, the pain, the suffereing, everything she had kept inside herself for so long was let out. And maybe after this she would be able to regain some of that undying strength she had always possed. But for the moment, nothing but tears could help. Tears and him.