Chapter Seven

Jack let the hospital room door close behind him. For several minutes, he did nothing but watch. He did this despite the fact that he had entered the room determined not to watch, but to finally take action. To steady himself, he ran through each of his arguments in his head. They were solid arguments … not just logical, but sensible, necessary, healthy.

"Darling," Jack's voice was soothing, "We can't delay this any longer."

Erica didn't answer, but she closed her eyes against Jack's words, as if she could cancel them out. In that moment, she made a wish. But it wasn't granted. When she opened her eyes, Maggie remained still and silent.

"It's been five days," Jack continued, and though he paused to give Erica time to respond, she did not. "It's not fair, Erica. It's not fair to keep making everyone wait."

"Not fair?" Erica said quietly as she stood, turned and glared at him. "Not fair?" This time the words were louder, harsher and full of sarcasm. She swept an arm out in front of her body, "Go ahead, Jack. This should be very enlightening. I'd love for you to explain to me how we can make Bianca's funeral fair." Jack stood by quietly, "C'mon, Jack," Erica continued, moving towards him, "Tell me." She paused for a moment before snapping, "I'm waiting."

Jackson took a step back, but he was not deterred. This was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. "There's nothing fair or right about Bianca's death, Erica. I know that. You don't think I know that?" hurt eased into his voice, causing Erica's face to soften. "But this," he shook his head at Erica's chair at the side of Maggie's bed, "All of this waiting, it's making things worse … for Myrtle, for Kendall, for Reggie ... and so many others."

Erica didn't respond, but her chin dropped toward her chest, and he heard the air rush out of her. Jack could see that she was listening, really listening. He closed the distance between them and gathered her up in his arms. The next words he said into her hair as he hugged her, "Don't you see, Erica? This is part of it. Part of how they start dealing with Bianca's death. The ritual, the gathering, the formal goodbye ... it's what tells them that it's okay to move on, to live. They need it. And it's what Bianca would have wanted for them. And for us. You know that."

He held her closer then, and thought he felt her nodding her head ever so slightly against his chest. Jackson did not voice his greater fear – that it was Erica who most needed to start dealing with Bianca's death … that she was hiding herself in Maggie's coma. He worried what Erica would do when the girl woke up and was only Maggie, and not Bianca. And what if she never woke up? "I think this is what Maggie would want as well," he whispered.

He realized his mistake instantly. At the sound of Maggie's name, Erica tensed up and pushed herself out of his arms. She turned and rushed back to the bedside of the comatose girl, her expression a mask of almost frantic concentration.

"What about Maggie?" Eric shot back over her shoulder. "What's she going to do Jackson? What's she going to do when she wakes up and Bianca is dead, and she can't even say goodbye? How is she going to move on?"

Jackson pressed his lips together and gathered himself. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this – to laying out for Erica the fact that she was going to have to choose and then to having to pit Lily and Reggie and Kendall and Myrtle and even himself against Maggie. He knew that Erica's instinct to help this girl was overwhelming, perhaps even irrationally so. And yet it was also so understandable. Bianca loved Maggie, and Maggie was the last person to see Bianca alive. Jackson too longed for Maggie to wake up and tell them about the last moments of Bianca's life, even though he feared the answer. But he wouldn't put the world on hold hoping that Maggie would wake up – a hope that was getting less and less likely with each passing day. It was dragging down their entire family. "What if Maggie doesn't wake up?" Jackson asked matter-of-factly, "What if she never wakes up, Erica? David says ..."

"Don't' you dare quote David Hayward to me!" Erica growled back, and for the first time, she sounded truly angry.

Erica's battles with David during the past few days had been epic and were a big reason that Jackson was treading so carefully now. They started on the day Bianca died, when David, with Krystal in tow, finally showed up at the hospital. Jackson wondered if Erica would have behaved better if David hadn't immediately shown his complete lack of knowledge about Maggie's life, but he suspected not. And, to be fair, even Jackson, who knew Erica's lashing out was largely unfair, a product of grief, found her words justified. David didn't know Maggie was engaged. He had never even met Jonathan, much less known about any reservations that Maggie's friends were harboring about their relationship. And, perhaps worst of all, he didn't seem to know anything about the complex relationship between the two girls – actually uttering at one point that "the mother of Maggie's friend' wasn't entitled to an opinion on Maggie's medical care, or anything else. While technically true, nothing seemed more against the spirit of what the girl would have wanted. Jackson could still hear his, "Maggie is a grown woman," response to Erica's question as to why he didn't know what was going on with the girl.

Maybe it was finally that comment, not the words themselves but the tone and attitude behind them, that ultimately made Jackson step back and allow David to be trampled. It sounded exactly like what it was – an excuse – and an indignant one at that. It sounded so like the myriad of excuses David had for how he and Krystal and Babe had treated Bianca. Jackson wasn't even really sure they were excuses, because they didn't acknowledge any responsibility, any remorse, any contrition. Once again, David Hayward didn't think he had done anything wrong. It baffled Jackson. He had imagined that he would mediate between the two, appealing to their love and concern for Maggie. Instead, he stood by and let Erica decimate David.

In the end, though no major decision could be made without David's consent as Maggie's only accessible relative, Erica had actually managed to get David essentially thrown off Maggie's case. Joe Martin and Maria Grey handled all aspects of Maggie treatment. And though Jackson knew they consulted with him, David stayed away from Maggie's room, shamed by Erica's pointed inquiries about what Leo or Bianca or Leora or Anna or even Maggie would think about him now. He should, Jackson often thought, feel sorry for David. Especially since Babe sat quietly in the waiting room day after day at least ignored, and maybe even tolerated, by Erica. But he didn't – even as he watched Babe pulling away from her father.

"David isn't saying anything that Joe and Maria aren't saying as well," Jackson pointed out, desperate to get the conversation back on track.

Erica's face fell in recognition, but she recovered quickly, "But you heard Dr. Joe. Everything is functioning normally. Everything."

Jackson nodded. What Erica was saying was indeed true, but it didn't change anything, "That's true, and we're all hanging onto that … that Maggie will recover … but it's not a guarantee. Dr. Joe said that too"

Erica looked around the room, as if searching for a rebuttal. When she finally looked back at Jackson, confidence radiated from her, "Maggie is trying to get back, Jack. She's fighting. I know it."

Jackson smiled a sad smile, and wished he believed her. Then he took his last shot, "What if you're wrong, Erica," Jackson started carefully. "What if she's trying to let go … to be with Bianca again?"

The words hung out there, almost like an echo between the two of them. Erica's face fell, and Jackson hated himself a little bit for manipulating her emotions in that way, even though he felt it was the right thing. As the silence continued, he said nothing. She would have to make the decision on her own.

"Okay," she said quietly, finally, "Okay."

Jackson held out a hand, and she took it. They stood together for several long moments looking at each other and Maggie and thinking about Bianca. Then Jackson nodded, put an arm around her shoulders and guided her out of the room.

Jamie Martin looked around the hospital waiting room nervously as he paced back and forth, "I really think we should go, Babe."

"We can't leave now," Babe insisted vehemently from her chair, "Jack just went in Maggie's room. They could come out at any moment."

Jamie's face scrunched up in disbelief, "That's exactly why we need to get out of here. You want to visit Maggie, fine, so do I. But let's come back after they're gone."

"I'm not here just to see Maggie," Babe said, sounding surprised, "I'm here to see Erica."

"Erica," Jamie's voice actually jumped an octave. "After what happened yesterday … and the day before … and the day before … and the day before … what do you think is going to change?" He paused briefly, but not long enough for her to answer, "The woman ignores you every day," Jamie added incredulously, "This makes no sense, Babe."

Babe stared off into space, almost like she was in a daze. "Did you know that Maggie was engaged?" she finally asked.

Jamie watched her, exasperated, but when Babe turned and looked at him expectantly, he rolled his eyes, thought about the question, and answered, "No. I didn't know that Maggie was engaged." He paused for a moment before adding, "But I don't see what that has to do with anything."

Babe looked away again, still perplexed, "David didn't know either. Erica asked him, and he said he didn't know."

"It's not David's fault that Maggie fell in love with a monster," Jamie pointed out, shocked to hear himself defending David.

"She must have felt very alone," Babe added, though Jamie wasn't at all sure she was speaking to him.

It was then he sat down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention back to him. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. "I think it's great that you're so worried about Maggie, and that you want to make peace with Erica. You have a really big heart … it's part of why I love you so much. But this," he motioned around the waiting room, "This … this vigil you seem to be on. It's not helping anyone, Babe … least of all yourself. This is not the life we envisioned for ourselves, Babe," Jamie pointed out. "J.R. is finally not acting like a total jerk about James, and we can finally move on … to the life we both want."

Babe looked up at him and knew that he was right. But what was that life that seemed so perfect not so long ago? She almost couldn't remember. She knew it was being with Jamie, who was always on her side, safe and warm. But he had offered her that life before, many times, and she had turned him down – for J.R. It was only after J.R. and all of that ugliness that she had accepted what Jamie offered. So what if there had been no J.R., would this have been her choice? And now?

"Babe, Babe," Jamie snapped her out of her thoughts, "We're not going to solve this today. Let's stay out of everyone's way. Let's go back to our life."

Babe nodded silently and took his outstretched hand. He was right. She wasn't going to solve this today. "You're right, honey. We're together, and Ace is doing so well. Let's go home." She stood and walked towards the elevator.

Jamie stood stunned for a moment before following her. It was the first time he had heard her call the baby 'Ace.'

"Okay, this is the last of them," J.R. let out a small grunt as he brought the last box into the house, "How much stuff can two women have?" he smiled jokingly as he put down the box.

Kendall didn't smile back from where she was sitting on the box-laden couch with Miranda. "Three," she said quietly.

"What?" J.R. asked. With his back turned, he wasn't even sure if she had spoken.

She looked up from Miranda and directly at J.R., "Three," she said a little louder, "This is how much stuff three women have: me, Miranda … and Bianca."

J.R. cringed, but caught himself before saying anything. For the tenth or eleventh time that day, 'mistake' flashed across his mind. It wasn't the actions Kendall was taking, not exactly. This house, small and quiet, with a yard and trees and a garden, was going to be great for Kendall and Miranda. After all, hadn't Bianca declared it 'perfect' in the weeks before Miranda's birth? No, that wasn't it. It was just this sense he had that everything was happening to fast. And, of course, the fact that the house … this house … was suddenly available. That, he believed, was Zack's work. He was trying to help, J.R. supposed, but was it really helping? He watched Kendall and Miranda on the couch and cursed himself for not knowing the answer.

"I just don't think you need it," Greenlee insisted vehemently.

Ryan paced around the apartment looking rattled.

"Listen," Greenlee said, almost as a command, "I talked to a bunch of shrinks after Leo died. And to tell you the truth, none of them helped. Not really. Leo was gone, and they didn't make him less gone or make it easier to lose him." She stopped and smiled lovingly at Ryan, "The only thing that made it better for me was you. And I want to do that for you."

Ryan smiled back, but he only half heard what she was saying. Instead, a conversation from earlier that day continued to run through his head. He had been headed to Maria Grey's office to ask about Maggie when he heard the voices:

"I don't think that's true," Anita insisted.

"What do you mean?" Maria asked, clearly surprised by her sister's words.

"Well. It's a tragedy. I certainly agree with that," Anita began carefully, "But I don't think it was unpreventable."

Ryan froze, a cold sweat breaking out over his body. He pressed himself against the wall outside Maria's office and listened.

"I don't know," Maria countered thoughtfully, "Jonathan was clearly a very disturbed young man. It sounds like it was only a matter of time before he snapped."

"That's probably true," Anita conceded, "But that's not what I'm talking about … not exactly, at least. After a pause, Anita continued, "I've seen a lot of this."

"A lot of what?" Maria asked.

"A lot of abuse, a lot of addictions, a lot of victims. Las Vegas was crawling with it. And I'll tell you a secret," Anita paused, and Ryan felt himself leaning closer to the office door, "There is always someone … someone who knows and could have done something."

"Who?" Maria asked.

"I don't know," and Ryan could hear the shrug in Anita's voice, "I don't know who. But I guarantee you that there was someone …from the past or the present … someone who knew, or should have known, that Jonathan was capable of this."

Ryan turned and ran back down the hall.

Anita and Maria both looked up at the noise, but just for a moment before turning back to each other. "I'm not saying it's that person's fault, not exactly," Anita paused and considered her next words, "But they probably could have stopped it … whoever they are."

"Ryan," Greenlee snapped her fingers in front of his face, causing him to jump. "Are you even listening to me," she asked accusingly.

Ryan shook his head to clear it, "Of course," he reached out and hugged her next to him, "Of course I am."

"And you'll let me help you," Greenlee continued expectantly.

"Of course," he responded, holding her a little tighter, "Of course."

Everything was happening in slow motion, like it had already happened a thousand times before. Somehow, Maggie knew what would happen next. He was lowering the gun. Bits of plaster that had landed on his shoulder only moments ago where slowly slipping toward the floor.

She grabbed Bianca and began tugging at her, "He's going to kill us," she screamed.

But Bianca didn't move. It was like she couldn't even hear her. And no matter how hard she tugged, she couldn't pull Bianca out of the way. She stared straight at Jonathan, talked to him even.

Panic overwhelmed her. Not again, she thought. She threw herself in front of Bianca, closed her eyes and yelled, "No!" When she was met with only silence, she opened her eyes, only to find herself behind Bianca, only to hear the last of his words, "You want out? Here's out!"

"Noooo!" she screamed.

The heart monitor leapt, beeping frenetically. "Bianca," it was barely a whisper, but it was there. And then the comatose girl opened her eyes.