Rosalind
This story and all themes and ideas contained in said story are the sole
ownership of J.L. Scott. Any copyright infringements can be prosecuted in a
court of law.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
John's heart dropped into his stomach. He started shaking and he felt like he might faint. He couldn't go on without Grace, he just couldn't. He'd never make it. She was everything that kept him together.
"It was a close call, Mr. Clark" the Doctor started, "but she should be fine"
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph" Molly said from behind him and he took in a ragged breath, trying to get the message to his stomach that she was all right.
"What about the babies?" Peter asked. John had nearly forgotten. How could he have? The children! His children! Good Lord, could he have killed his own children through neglect before they were even born?
"The children are fine, as far as we can tell" the Doctor added, "We want to keep her over night and maybe for another day or two"
"Is there something wrong?" One of the other brothers asked, but John wasn't listening much. He had to see her.
"Can I see her?" The Doctor looked at him oddly. He had been mid sentence when John had interrupted him.
"She's not conscious yet" he warned, but I think we can let a couple of people in" He eyed the large brood standing around, "Family only"
"We are her family, lad, and ye'll let us all in if ye know what's good for ye" Eric snapped. The twelve of them crowded around the bed in the little room Gracie had been sent to. There were tubes and needles in her arms and a thick bandage had been wrapped around her head. Some thoughtful nurse had lifted her hair out of the way and splayed it across the pillow. A dark bruise was coloring her left eye and John thought he saw smaller ones around her throat. Perhaps finger marks?
"Ach, Gracie" Molly said and pushed her way through the crowd to her daughter's side, "Foolish child" But she ran a loving hand over her brow.
"Andrew, Michael, she needs her hair put in plaits" the feisty woman ordered and two of Grace's younger older brothers moved to her head and each took half of her hair. John ignored the fact that they were braiding his wife's hair and pulled a chair up beside her.
"Gracie" he whispered to her, taking her hand in his own, hands that were usually so capable that were now cold and lifeless, "Oh, Gracie, I'm so sorry" The room was silent as the large family silently sent their support to the guilt ridden young man. John was taking deep breaths and berating himself. How could he have been so callus? Why hadn't he known that if he didn't go up and go get some damn pecan pie that his willful young wife would go herself? It was measly fifteen minutes to complete the little errand. How could he be so selfish? Why had she ever married him in the first place, he didn't deserve her!
"Come on boys" Molly said quietly, noting the poor disposition of her son-in-law, "There's things to be done" She one by one pushed each of her sons out of the room, reluctant though they were to leave, and finally grabbed hold of her husband's arm to pull him out as well.
"Now don't you be frettin' Johnny boy" she said before she left, "All will turn out well" The prophesy did little to easy John's guilt laden heart but he took hope in the light she'd given him. He'd yet to see Molly O'Malley be wrong about anything.
When they were gone, the nurse came in to check on some of Grace's signs and then left again. John felt useless, sitting there, doing nothing.
"John?" He whipped his head up from her hand. Her eyes were still closed, but her head was moving and he could tell that her breathing pattern had changed.
"John?" Her voice was so quiet and weak, it only tore at his soul more to hear it.
"I'm here, Gracie, I'm here" he assured her quietly. He reached out and ran his fingers over her un-swollen cheek, and her head turned towards his touch. He watched as she painfully lifted her lids, barely enough to see that sparkling green through her long eyelashes.
"I'm here baby" he whispered to her, placing a kiss on her cold lips.
"John..." she whispered again.
"I'm here" he repeated. She took a deep breath.
"Not...not your..not your fault" she told him. A tear came to his eye, though it didn't fall. She passed out again and he pushed away from the bed. It was his fault. At least to a point. But she was right about one thing, he wasn't the one that had done this. It had been someone else. Someone else who'd nearly killed his wife and two unborn children.
And he was going to find that person. And make them pay.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
John's heart dropped into his stomach. He started shaking and he felt like he might faint. He couldn't go on without Grace, he just couldn't. He'd never make it. She was everything that kept him together.
"It was a close call, Mr. Clark" the Doctor started, "but she should be fine"
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph" Molly said from behind him and he took in a ragged breath, trying to get the message to his stomach that she was all right.
"What about the babies?" Peter asked. John had nearly forgotten. How could he have? The children! His children! Good Lord, could he have killed his own children through neglect before they were even born?
"The children are fine, as far as we can tell" the Doctor added, "We want to keep her over night and maybe for another day or two"
"Is there something wrong?" One of the other brothers asked, but John wasn't listening much. He had to see her.
"Can I see her?" The Doctor looked at him oddly. He had been mid sentence when John had interrupted him.
"She's not conscious yet" he warned, but I think we can let a couple of people in" He eyed the large brood standing around, "Family only"
"We are her family, lad, and ye'll let us all in if ye know what's good for ye" Eric snapped. The twelve of them crowded around the bed in the little room Gracie had been sent to. There were tubes and needles in her arms and a thick bandage had been wrapped around her head. Some thoughtful nurse had lifted her hair out of the way and splayed it across the pillow. A dark bruise was coloring her left eye and John thought he saw smaller ones around her throat. Perhaps finger marks?
"Ach, Gracie" Molly said and pushed her way through the crowd to her daughter's side, "Foolish child" But she ran a loving hand over her brow.
"Andrew, Michael, she needs her hair put in plaits" the feisty woman ordered and two of Grace's younger older brothers moved to her head and each took half of her hair. John ignored the fact that they were braiding his wife's hair and pulled a chair up beside her.
"Gracie" he whispered to her, taking her hand in his own, hands that were usually so capable that were now cold and lifeless, "Oh, Gracie, I'm so sorry" The room was silent as the large family silently sent their support to the guilt ridden young man. John was taking deep breaths and berating himself. How could he have been so callus? Why hadn't he known that if he didn't go up and go get some damn pecan pie that his willful young wife would go herself? It was measly fifteen minutes to complete the little errand. How could he be so selfish? Why had she ever married him in the first place, he didn't deserve her!
"Come on boys" Molly said quietly, noting the poor disposition of her son-in-law, "There's things to be done" She one by one pushed each of her sons out of the room, reluctant though they were to leave, and finally grabbed hold of her husband's arm to pull him out as well.
"Now don't you be frettin' Johnny boy" she said before she left, "All will turn out well" The prophesy did little to easy John's guilt laden heart but he took hope in the light she'd given him. He'd yet to see Molly O'Malley be wrong about anything.
When they were gone, the nurse came in to check on some of Grace's signs and then left again. John felt useless, sitting there, doing nothing.
"John?" He whipped his head up from her hand. Her eyes were still closed, but her head was moving and he could tell that her breathing pattern had changed.
"John?" Her voice was so quiet and weak, it only tore at his soul more to hear it.
"I'm here, Gracie, I'm here" he assured her quietly. He reached out and ran his fingers over her un-swollen cheek, and her head turned towards his touch. He watched as she painfully lifted her lids, barely enough to see that sparkling green through her long eyelashes.
"I'm here baby" he whispered to her, placing a kiss on her cold lips.
"John..." she whispered again.
"I'm here" he repeated. She took a deep breath.
"Not...not your..not your fault" she told him. A tear came to his eye, though it didn't fall. She passed out again and he pushed away from the bed. It was his fault. At least to a point. But she was right about one thing, he wasn't the one that had done this. It had been someone else. Someone else who'd nearly killed his wife and two unborn children.
And he was going to find that person. And make them pay.