AN: This is it, the final chapter! I'm sorry it took so long to get up, but I've been without internet access all weekend (I guess that's why it turned out so long! I had nothing else to do!). I know I've said it a million times, but thank you for the great reviews. I may continue writing fan fic in this fandom from now on, I really enjoyed this (I'm anxious to try writing a story that isn't a POV story...haha, let's see how something like that turns out - you'll really see how much work I need on my writing then!). I may or may not do a sequel (I need an idea of where i'd take it first), but if you read here frequently (or have me on author alert), you'll see one appear, should it happen. Thank you again!
The Road Home
I thought I was going to die.
Dad always said the experiences one feels during death are part of the brain's process of shutting down - but I don't think so. For what seemed like days, I was caught in a tunnel. This tunnel was long, and dark and filled with people...some running and some walking. At the end of this tunnel, was a bright white light - a light that seemed almost comforting by glance. I wanted to go to this light, I wanted that comfort. Each step I took though, was filled with difficulty - it felt like I was trying to wade through a puddle of glue. I was getting closer to the light when I heard it - my father's voice, begging me to please wake up. I heard my mother, calling my name softly, then crying. As much as I wanted that light, the possibility that I could see my parents again was too great. I heard someone call my name once more.
Suddenly, the tunnel was gone - the people and the light as well. I felt like I was falling, but towards what, I wasn't quite sure.
They were all there when I opened my eyes.
At first I thought I was dreaming, but the pain was too great for a dream. I was lying in a hospital bed, tube shoved down my throat, apparently a survivor of David's decision to mow me down. My dad was holding my mom (who was sobbing up a storm) and saw me when I opened my eyes. My Uncle Jimmy was standing with my Uncle Chase and Uncle Eric in the doorway, all three of them looking completely astonished, then relieved. How long had I been here?
I was so tired, but since none of them were making any attempt to inform my mom I was awake (ugh, hello guys - SAY SOMETHING) I lightly grabbed the edge of her lab coat and tugged. My mom turned around and saw that I was finally awake and started bawling even MORE. Trying to break the mood, I pointed at her tears and rolled my eyes. I guess it worked, because everyone started laughing after that.
My uncle Chase rushed forward, trying to make sure my vitals were going to hold and whatnot, you know...that rush of "OH MY GOD, IS SHE OKAY?" you always see on medical television shows? I wanted to talk to them so I made notion to Uncle Chase to pull the tube out of my throat. All five of them shook their heads and said they couldn't do that for a couple more days. Well for heaven's sake, somebody GET ME A WHITEBOARD, I thought to myself. I made a writing motion with my hands and my dad went to find a whiteboard I could write on.
My Uncle Foreman attacked with his evil penlight before I could write on the board my dad just brought back. He asked me if I knew who I was, where I was, and what had happened to me.
It's so hard to express proper sarcasm on a whiteboard, let me tell you that.
"Alexandra House, Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital," I wrote.
He looked at me in a worried fashion, like I'd already forgotten the last question he asked.
"Don't worry, I may have a concussion, but I'm not retarded," I started writing, "I may be suffering from a lapse of intelligence, but I believe it might have been THE BIG OLD GIANT CAR THAT MOWED ME DOWN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD, that landed me here, right? If you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic. I hurt - GIVE ME DRUGS SO I CAN GO BACK TO SLEEP."
My dad laughed again and smiled and said something along the lines of "The snark is strong in this one." I was so damn tired, I just wanted a good two months worth of sleep and all this pain to go away. My right leg and my head were killing me. It took not more than a minute for my Uncle Chase to slip something into my IV and I went off once again to the wonderful land of sleep. There would be time for a proper "reunion" later, I thought.
It was three days before they removed me from the respirator.
I spent those three days in a drug induced haze, waking occasionally to find my mom, dad or Uncle Jimmy sitting with me. The tube was replaced by an oxygen mask, but at least now I could do some talking. I re-awoke after a couple hours asleep, and spied my Uncle Jimmy writing something with his back turned to me. Ipicked up the dry erase marker I'd been using and chucked itat his head, and laughed as his "what the hell?" face appeared.
"Thanks for finding me out there," I said. He smiled and nodded, rubbing the place where the marker had hit him. I think he was wondering who was worse, me or my dad. It didn't matter...I hope he knew I owed him everything. If it wasn't for him, I'd more than likely be dead right now. I asked him to please go find my mom and dad and send them in. He nodded and left.
Now I know I'd made fun of my mom for crying up a river, but mark my words this was going to be the only time I'd follow in her footsteps. Seeing them again was every bit as powerful as the day I woke - it brought tears to my eyes (lots of them...damnit, I gotta get this under control). I must have looked like a right idiot, just staring at them. I was trying to figure out if this too was a dream, if they would disappear as soon as I touched them. It hurt to do so, but I pulled both of them into a hug and just sobbed. It was really them, they weren't going anywhere.
I suppose it must have looked like a picture perfect Kodak moment.Before I couldbreakup this mush-fest with a jokethe police invaded the room, I take it they'd been waiting to question me about everything. My mom told me she had to go back to work, but she'd see me later - my dad was going to stay with me while the police did their questioning. My dad came and sat next to me on the hospital bed, telling them to please take their time.
I looked at him in amusement, and asked him if that was because he wanted all the information brought forth, or was my Aunt Lisa looking for him in the clinic?
Before he could finish calling me a smartass, things took a more serious turn.
The first thing the officer told me, was that David and Marie Williams - my kidnappers - were dead. They found David inside his car, three miles from the scene of my accident. He'd gone off the side of the highway, crashing into a large pine tree. The impact didn't kill him though, he'd done that himself. Upon arriving at the scene of his accident, they found him lying in the passenger seat of the the car. He had a large gunshot wound to his head, a gun lying next to him. A note attached to the dashboard read "I'm not really sorry, I did this for my wife. She wanted a child, so I provided. When she escaped, I knew this was the end. I took away my wife's misery, and tried to kill the little brat who couldn't stay put. I hope that part of the plan worked."
When they stormed the home where I'd been living, they found Marie dead on the living room floor, also from a gunshot to the head.
I felt my dad grab my hand, as my breath caught. I felt bad, so bad. She was sick, I told the police - she didn't know any better. They nodded solemnly. I started shaking...this whole thing had been one nightmare, and now that I was awake - the aftermath was starting. My dad wanted to give me Ativan, but I needed to just get this over and done with, shock or not.
They asked me all sorts of questions, over and over. They wanted to know how they'd treated me, if I'd met any members of their family. The questions just went on and on and on till I started growing tired and my leg started hurting again. The finally finished up, asking my dad the extent of the injuries that I'd suffered. There was going to be no trial, since the guilty parties had passed on. The social worker that had been with the police then told me It was custom that I go live with a foster family after my release from the hospital, before making transition back into the world of the living, back into my parents lives.
I couldn't believe this. I was going home with my parents. I told the lady, I was going to do no such thing. I was sad that Marie had suffered (she would have been declared too mentally ill to stand trial had she been alive) yes, but I was glad David was gone and I was home. I'd spent eight long years writing down every single memory of my parents and my life before the kidnapping...I wanted nothing than to be back with them. I was going home with them, I would be fine...they'd make sure of that. She nodded, telling my father they'd be in touch to discuss this.
I was upset by this point. I just found them, and somebody else wanted to take me away from them. I clung to my father and he reassured me that it wasn't going to happen. We'd be at home having cripple fights with each other before long. I couldn't help but laugh...he always knew how to break up the tension in any situation. I let him shoot me up with Ativan and pain medicine and drifted back off into a deep sleep.
It had approached three weeks since the accident when my doctor announced that I was ready to go home. I looked at the calendar - December 24th. I smiled, realizing that after years of wishing, I'd finally be spending Christmas with my parents.
As the second week ended, I had finally been able to get up on crutches and walk. My concussion had healed, and my ribs as well. The stitches had been removed from my stomach and gone was the heart monitor that had kept me up with it's damned beeping, night after night. My wrist was still broken and my leg was going to be out of order for the next couple of months, but I was assured with physical therapy I'd regain full use of it.
My dad smacked the orderly pushing me downstairs in a wheelchair the day of my release. The guy said it'd be a scary thing, two Houses loose in Princeton - BOTH - with objects good for whacking, notioning at the crutches I was carrying in my lap. I just laughed, not so much from the look the poor guy gave as he got caned from the infamous House, but mainly because I was actually getting out of this place.
I cried when I entered the house.
A large Christmas tree stood off to one corner, gifts piled a mile high underneath, glowing brilliantly. My Uncle Jimmy, Aunt Lisa, Uncle Chase and Uncle Eric stood next to the roaring fireplace, smiling. They were there to spend Christmas Eve with us, to welcome me back. It was the best feeling in the world, being able to sit down to dinner with my family...my real family.
It wasn't till later that night after everyone had gone, sitting alone on the couch with my mom and dad in front of the tree, that I began to reflect on the events that had gone on these past eight years. I knew I'd be able to put my past behind me now, and move on. I had my family, my real family, ready to help that happen. I was injured, but I was alive...that was the most important part. Even though the past eight years had been a disaster, I smiled, and realized I could be grateful to David for one thing. I was grateful that he ran me over that day, glad that he'd gone off and left me for dead in the middle of that road. Why, you ask?
It was the road that brought me home.
THE END