Author's Note: Wow, I've been heading for this chapter since I first started writing this story as unbelievable as that sounds. It's somewhat of a turning point, although it's early on in the plot still. Just to give you a bit of a warning, I think time is going to speed up for a while now. This story (as the title suggests) is actually a year long, meaning it'll end at when it gets back to Christmas. So yeah. . .it's a little less than halfway done now I think. Oh and MAJOR ANGST WARNING!!! Grab your tissues for this chapter. Enjoy.
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Chapter 22: No Release
April 14th
12:52 AM
"Where is she?" Roger demanded, glaring at Mark who was sitting in one of the waiting room chairs.
They'd finally made it to the hospital in Scarsdale after the driver of the other car had called an ambulance from her cell phone. Mark had gotten Maureen to drive him and Collins up as soon as he'd heard.
"In surgery," Mark answered, standing up.
"What?"
"Slow down a minute," Mark held up his hands. He looked pale and harried and Roger knew instinctively that the news wasn't good. "What did the doctors say about you?" Mark asked.
"That I have a concussion and a whole lot of bruises. What about Mimi?"
"But they're letting you go?"
"Mark!" Roger shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him.
"Roger! Roger, stop!"
Mark pushed him off.
"Roger, I want you to sit down."
Roger obeyed, still breathing hard and glaring at Mark.
Mark turned away from him for a moment, taking off his glasses and scrubbing his hands over his face and hair. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned back.
"Roger. . .she lost the baby."
"No." Roger moaned, covering his face with his hands, "No!"
"Roger, I know you're upset but—"
"No!"
Roger was on his feet in an instant, catching Mark in a headlock.
"Roger, stop. . ." Mark gasped, completely caught off guard.
"You're a liar!" Roger shouted, "You always lie! You're a fucking liar!"
"Roger, please," Mark pleaded, "Listen to me, you're hurt, you're upset and you don't know what you're doing. Please just try to calm down."
Everyone else in the waiting room was frozen, watching until Maureen and Collins entered, coffee cups in hand.
"Roger!" Collins shouted, rushing over and pulling him off Mark.
Roger sank back on the sofa, his head in his hands.
Maureen sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. After a few minutes, Roger looked up again, calmer now.
"Sorry," he muttered, embarrassed.
Mark nodded silently.
"Is she okay?"
"She lost a lot of blood," Mark answered uncertainly, "They said she'll be okay physically but. . .well. . ."
"Yeah. . .when can I see her?"
"They said in a few hours."
"Does she know that-that-" Roger choked on the words, unable to say it.
"Yeah." Maureen answered softly.
Roger sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes roughly with the back of his hand.
"Hey, Rog," Collins said gently, "Come take a walk with me."
Roger obeyed silently, and the two men walked off down the clean white corridor, leaving Mark and Maureen alone.
"So. . .Roger. . ." Collins began after a while, "Talk."
"About what?"
"How do you feel?"
"Awful."
"More detailed, please."
"Collins, what the hell is this, an interrogation?"
Collins shrugged.
"Call it what you like, I'm only trying to help you."
Roger shook his head helplessly and they continued walking.
He couldn't even decide how he felt, let alone tell Collins and listen to the professor's analysis. His head was spinning, images flashing up like movies being played on a secret screen behind his eyes. No matter what he tried to think about, to distract himself with, he kept coming back to that moment. The moment just before. . .
"Roger?"
"I. . .It was my fault."
"Roger. . ." Collins turned to look at him, his eyes full of compassion, "I know you must feel that way right now but-"
"No!" Roger interrupted, "It's true."
Collins raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"I insisted that we go even though it was raining. She told me it wasn't safe but I-I wanted to go anyway. And then we got in a fight and I-I was distracted and. . ."
"What did you fight about?"
"She said. . .that I lied. That I don't-didn't-want to have this baby and I-oh, God, Collins, I didn't." Roger turned and rested his forearms and head against the wall.
"And how do you feel about that now?" Collins asked gently.
"And how do you feel about that now?" Collins asked gently.
"Who are you, my shrink?" Roger asked angrily.
"Only a friend."
"I think. . ." Roger took a deep breath, forcing the words out. When Mark told me—I—a part of me was glad . . .Collins, I deserve to die. . ."
Collins just looked at Roger, tears of compassion in his own dark eyes.
"Roger, you can't help what you feel."
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Roger paused in the doorway of Mimi's hospital room, studying her worriedly. He couldn't tell if she was really asleep or just resting, but her eyes were closed. Her skin was a pale, almost grayish color in the dim glow of the hospital night light. There were dark circles under her eyes and Roger thought he could see dried tear stains on her cheeks. It made his heart ache unbearably to see her like this and he noticed for the first time how much his head hurt too.
He walked in as quietly as possible, careful not to wake her, but her eyes fluttered open as soon as he set foot in the door.
Not asleep then, Roger thought to himself.
"Hey," he greeted softly.
She didn't answer, but Roger knew she'd heard. He walked over and sat in the old folding chair next to her bed, and Mimi propped herself up on one elbow, wincing slightly.
"Hi," she answered finally, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Roger sighed and shook his head.
"I'm sorry. . .I. . .don't know what to say."
She nodded weakly.
"You okay, Roger?"
"Yeah. . .just bruises, mostly. God, I'm so sorry. I know this is my fault."
Mimi just shook her head.
"Roger, I don't-I can't talk about this. Not right now."
"I'm sorry," Roger said again, feeling completely helpless.
"Just-just hold me, okay?"
Roger nodded, then carefully crawled into bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her protectively. He was acutely aware of how fragile her slender body felt. Mimi buried her face in his shoulder, crying softly. Roger just lay there, stroking her hair gently. His entire body ached with guilt and anguish, but no matter how hard he tried, the tears wouldn't come.
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It gets worse after this. . .oohhhh yes, my friends it gets WORSE! So review! ^_^