Author's Notes: Nothing big today. Thanks for the reviews!!!! :-)
She sat in the waiting room, a cup of cold coffee nestled in her hand, holding on to it, just so she would be able to hold on to something. She glaced at her watch. Carter had gone in with Annette about 2 hours ago. They should be finishing up. Unless something went wrong. No she couldn't think about it. She just couldn't. She heard the door swing open, and a loud sigh from across the room. She didn't look up, but instantly knew who it was.
"Done?"
She was starring out into space, out the window in front of her, imagining all the different things that they could be doing right now.
"Mmmhmm."
She didn't feel like looking up at him. She wanted to damn him to hell for making her stay out here and wait.
"Have they started with John?"
She was biting her top lip, and she tasted the unique flavor of blood.
"They just rolled him into the OR."
She leaned back against the cushioned chair. Her neck and shoulders ached, her head was pounding, her hands were shaking. She couldn't see straight and everything that probably could have gone wrong at that moment, did.
"How long?"
She ran her hand through her hair, pushing the loose strands back behind her ears.
"Four to six hours."
She scrunched her nose and eyes. She barely lasted Annette's two. She pulled her arms in front of her body, crossing them, leaning forward. She was a bit cold, but she could always ignore a small change in temperature.
She saw Carter's shoes as he sat down in the seat next to her, waiting slightly, probably starring out the window like she was. She felt him grab her hand and bring it to his lips. She felt the gentlest kiss, and their hands fell down into Carter's lap. She looked up at him, he looked just as bad as she did. This was getting to them, both emotionally and physically.
"Their going to be fine... You've got to believe that their going to be fine."
She nodded her head. She had no hope left. She just hung on his every word. She felt herself being pulled into his arms, and the tears that had threatened to fall all day finally began. She shook from the constant sobs, the desperate gasps for air. His arms continued to run over her back, up and down. Some solace in the hell-driven world.
She didn't know how long she stayed there, it felt like forever. She managed to lull herself into a dream-like state. Where the world and fantasy were two seperate paths and she hoovered intbetween them. The minutes ticked by endlessly, every second echoing longer and longer through the empty rooms, the empty hallways, the empty hearts.
She heard the beep of Carter's pager, and watched it light up, attachted to his belt. She couldn't read the lettering, but she was able to read the look on his face. He gently pushed her away, but she didn't let go. She grabbed a hold of him and he brought her up with him.
"What's wrong?"
She looked at him for an answer.
"Nothing. Don't worry."
He was lying. She could read him like a book.
"Carter."
She couldn't get an answer from him, but he was jumpy enough to not resist getting out of the room. She followed him. He was practically running. She didn't recognize the turns he was taking, the way he was leading her. But all she knew he was leading her away from safe and secure to the unknown and afraid. She heard the beeping of the monitor. The constant screech that could only be linked with one thing. It was faint, almost unheard. She heard the pattles being charged. She heard the bounce of a body. She didn't know where to turn, what to do. She felt the world begin to spin, the floor fall from under her, yet she kept on going after him, reaching the observation deck. Seeing the terror in Carter's eyes. She couldn't look down. She didn't need to. She heard everything, knew everything, every ounce of fluid or medication that was being pushed into him. She knew it all by heart. She did it everyday. Every minute felt like an hour, unending, undeserved torture. And nothing could break the spell. How long would they keep going? How long was he without breath. How long until they uttered those nonchallant words. We did our best. She turned around walking out of the room. Dazed. Lost. Confused. She leaned against the wall, sinking down to a kneeling position. This was it. This was how it was going to end.
She wiped the last tears from her eyes, looking at the nurse who had just called her name. She stood up abruptley, the nurse's persistent, piercing tone knocking her out of her stage. Something about Annette. She snapped back into the real world. She snapped back into reality. Something mumbled about infection. Something about low blood count. Something about bleeding out. A jumble of words. No meaning to her anymore. She couldn't comprehend, she couldn't think. All she could do was run after the nurse, heading towards the Post-Op portion of the ward. Yet as soon as she was through those doors, the same sounds echoed through the empty hallway. Nothing more. It pounded at her. So faint, yet resounding over and over in her mind. As if someone were next to her, amplifying it by a thousand. She rushed into the room with the nurse. She saw the paddles. She saw her daughter's open chest, bared, two strips for the metal shocks. She saw the monitor. The straight line echoing through the entire world. It was fifteen minutes already. They can't give up. They can't give up. She felt herself backing up against a wall. Staring at the the picture in front of her. It was a dream. It was all a nightmare. She was asleep, sleeping next to John's room. And when she woke up, she would go sit by her son's side, go talk to her daugther. And everything would be okay. The fates owed her one. Or they just choose to pick on her. They wanted to destroy her. She was already destroyed.
She sat in the waiting room, a cup of cold coffee nestled in her hand, holding on to it, just so she would be able to hold on to something. She glaced at her watch. Carter had gone in with Annette about 2 hours ago. They should be finishing up. Unless something went wrong. No she couldn't think about it. She just couldn't. She heard the door swing open, and a loud sigh from across the room. She didn't look up, but instantly knew who it was.
"Done?"
She was starring out into space, out the window in front of her, imagining all the different things that they could be doing right now.
"Mmmhmm."
She didn't feel like looking up at him. She wanted to damn him to hell for making her stay out here and wait.
"Have they started with John?"
She was biting her top lip, and she tasted the unique flavor of blood.
"They just rolled him into the OR."
She leaned back against the cushioned chair. Her neck and shoulders ached, her head was pounding, her hands were shaking. She couldn't see straight and everything that probably could have gone wrong at that moment, did.
"How long?"
She ran her hand through her hair, pushing the loose strands back behind her ears.
"Four to six hours."
She scrunched her nose and eyes. She barely lasted Annette's two. She pulled her arms in front of her body, crossing them, leaning forward. She was a bit cold, but she could always ignore a small change in temperature.
She saw Carter's shoes as he sat down in the seat next to her, waiting slightly, probably starring out the window like she was. She felt him grab her hand and bring it to his lips. She felt the gentlest kiss, and their hands fell down into Carter's lap. She looked up at him, he looked just as bad as she did. This was getting to them, both emotionally and physically.
"Their going to be fine... You've got to believe that their going to be fine."
She nodded her head. She had no hope left. She just hung on his every word. She felt herself being pulled into his arms, and the tears that had threatened to fall all day finally began. She shook from the constant sobs, the desperate gasps for air. His arms continued to run over her back, up and down. Some solace in the hell-driven world.
She didn't know how long she stayed there, it felt like forever. She managed to lull herself into a dream-like state. Where the world and fantasy were two seperate paths and she hoovered intbetween them. The minutes ticked by endlessly, every second echoing longer and longer through the empty rooms, the empty hallways, the empty hearts.
She heard the beep of Carter's pager, and watched it light up, attachted to his belt. She couldn't read the lettering, but she was able to read the look on his face. He gently pushed her away, but she didn't let go. She grabbed a hold of him and he brought her up with him.
"What's wrong?"
She looked at him for an answer.
"Nothing. Don't worry."
He was lying. She could read him like a book.
"Carter."
She couldn't get an answer from him, but he was jumpy enough to not resist getting out of the room. She followed him. He was practically running. She didn't recognize the turns he was taking, the way he was leading her. But all she knew he was leading her away from safe and secure to the unknown and afraid. She heard the beeping of the monitor. The constant screech that could only be linked with one thing. It was faint, almost unheard. She heard the pattles being charged. She heard the bounce of a body. She didn't know where to turn, what to do. She felt the world begin to spin, the floor fall from under her, yet she kept on going after him, reaching the observation deck. Seeing the terror in Carter's eyes. She couldn't look down. She didn't need to. She heard everything, knew everything, every ounce of fluid or medication that was being pushed into him. She knew it all by heart. She did it everyday. Every minute felt like an hour, unending, undeserved torture. And nothing could break the spell. How long would they keep going? How long was he without breath. How long until they uttered those nonchallant words. We did our best. She turned around walking out of the room. Dazed. Lost. Confused. She leaned against the wall, sinking down to a kneeling position. This was it. This was how it was going to end.
She wiped the last tears from her eyes, looking at the nurse who had just called her name. She stood up abruptley, the nurse's persistent, piercing tone knocking her out of her stage. Something about Annette. She snapped back into the real world. She snapped back into reality. Something mumbled about infection. Something about low blood count. Something about bleeding out. A jumble of words. No meaning to her anymore. She couldn't comprehend, she couldn't think. All she could do was run after the nurse, heading towards the Post-Op portion of the ward. Yet as soon as she was through those doors, the same sounds echoed through the empty hallway. Nothing more. It pounded at her. So faint, yet resounding over and over in her mind. As if someone were next to her, amplifying it by a thousand. She rushed into the room with the nurse. She saw the paddles. She saw her daughter's open chest, bared, two strips for the metal shocks. She saw the monitor. The straight line echoing through the entire world. It was fifteen minutes already. They can't give up. They can't give up. She felt herself backing up against a wall. Staring at the the picture in front of her. It was a dream. It was all a nightmare. She was asleep, sleeping next to John's room. And when she woke up, she would go sit by her son's side, go talk to her daugther. And everything would be okay. The fates owed her one. Or they just choose to pick on her. They wanted to destroy her. She was already destroyed.