a/n: so, we get to find out faye's fate in this one, though she's not the main focus of this chapter (crazy, i know). and good lord, if it doesn't get ridiculously monologue-ish again. but honestly, it's the best way i can find to get these characters' feelings across. i hope it's not distracting, hard to read, etc. oh, and we see the departure of deliliah, too (though i think it's kinda anti-climactic, but we need a sigh of relief, don't we?) well, off to it, then.
11. Waiting Room Regrets
The waiting room was simply that: a room to wait in. There wasn't any décor in particular that was soothing, and the colors of the furniture didn't exactly please the eye. Soft, sappy music poured in through the speakers, intermittently interrupted by the occasional page to a doctor. That sickening, purely hospital smell permeated the room and slowly seeped into hair and skin.
Three strangers, or perhaps they were acquaintances, sat apart from one another in the empty, sullen room. They didn't look at each other, and none of them dared to say a word. There was a balding man with a metal arm who sat on the left side of the room. He was hunched forward with his head in his hands, and his right leg bounced nervously up and down. In the middle of the room was a girl characterized by her wild, red hair. Tear stains were evident on her tan cheeks as she lay in an almost fetal position on the row of barely plush chairs.
And sitting to the right of the room, staring at the ceiling and wishing he wasn't there, was a younger man with green hair. He sucked on the end of an unlit cigarette, all too aware of the numerous 'no smoking' signs around him. Flecks of blood where splattered on his now wrinkly blue shirt, hands, and face. For that matter, there was blood on the other man as well. A somber scene was a simple way to describe the portrait of the three, but no one would dare to question artist on what was being represented.
"Déjà vu, huh Jet?" The younger man asked of his acquaintance turned friend.
"Not now, Spike. Just…not now," was the answer he was given.
Uncomfortable minutes passed like seconds stuck in slime. Everything was so surreal as they waited; images of earlier playing over and over again in their minds. Screaming had given way to crying. Crying had given way to running. Running had given way to escaping. And escaping had given way to tragedy. They had watched her laying there, her leg clearly broken and angry, discolored marks already peppering her skin. She didn't move and they didn't breathe.
Sirens were background noise, as was the bombardment of questions from the paramedics and police. They stepped back as they were asked to do, and Spike had volunteered to ride with her to the hospital. Jet and Ed had gotten a police escort, but for all of the emergency of the situation, help could never come fast enough.
Now they were waiting. She might have been dead, for all they knew. While in the ambulance, the medics were only able to get an unstable, tachy rhythm, from what Spike remembered hearing. The car that hit her may not have been going exceptionally fast, but the soft human body could only withstand so much. If she was alive, though, who's to say that her life would be of any quality. She might end up a vegetable for all anyone could say. The jaded patchwork family in the waiting room would never put it pass fate to be so cruel.
"Spike? Oh Spike, I'm so, so sorry."
Said man lowered his eyes from the ceiling and searched for the voice that had called out his name. It was her, it was Delilah…it was the other woman. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw Jet look up as well, and if the stiffening of his demeanor foretold anything, Spike knew he was mad. Standing up and staying Jet's response, Spike walked over to Delilah and led her out of the room.
"What are you doing here?" He asked her in the hallway adjacent to the waiting room.
"I…I came to see you; to, uh, see how you were doing. And to see if she's okay…your, your girlfriend, that is."
With a sigh, Spike turned away from her, almost unable to face that part of his sin. There was a myriad of things that he could do right now. He could yell, scream, fight, cry, bitch, complain, etc, etc, but he decided to go with the truth. He owed that to her…he owed that to everyone.
"Listen, Delilah, I…I'm sorry," he began, his voice an odd mixture of calm and delirium. "I took you out to dinner tonight so I could break up with you. I don't know why I ever slept with you in the first place, no offense. I was stupid, real stupid, and I made a mistake that could very well cost the life of someone I really care about. Or at least I say I care about her.
"I'm not going to unload my problems on you, and I'm not going to ask for you to understand, I just need to say that there's no you and me. There never was and there never will be. I know that sounds cold, but it's all I can be right now. I…I don't think I could even find emotions for my dead mother right now…
"All I can say is I'm sorry. You don't have to forgive me, cause Christ knows I don't deserve it, just don't make this harder than it has to be. I…I really do love her, despite how bad I am at showing that."
Delilah watched him as he spoke and noticed how he never once looked at her. He looked beside her, above her, but could never look directly at her. She could have easily made his life hell in that moment, and called him every name in the book, and made a real scene. But she didn't; she couldn't. Though they were unshed, she could easily see the tears in his uncertain, brown eyes.
He did love her, whoever that woman was, and Delilah couldn't help but feel the pang of guilt in herself, as well. Hadn't she pushed this man and even questioned his relationship? Hadn't she said that he didn't love her? So much her female intuition…or maybe that feeling was simply pure lust.
She stepped closer to him, but quickly stepped back as she saw him tense. Delilah didn't have a problem being a home wrecker, but she did have a problem with being an accessory to murder…or at least manslaughter, in this instance. She didn't have a hold on this man, and she knew she never would. The guilt that she was feeling, though, was nothing compared to the almost ocean-like wave that was crashing into him.
"I…it's okay, Spike…really," she began, peppy tone gone, replaced by an appropriate one of grief. "I…I'm so sorry for this…for everything. I really hope that she gets better…I can tell you care for her, even though I doubted that before."
Finding the ability to stare straight into her eyes, Spike looked at her, studied her; tried to see if she meant what she had said. For several seconds, the examination continued until Delilah broke her gaze away and turned around to leave.
"Thank you," Spike quietly called after her.
"No problem. Besides, you were too tame for me, anyway," she joked.
The shadow of a smile formed at Spike's lips as she walked out of view. At least something had gone right for him recently. He had wanted to ask her why she had so easily forgiven him, but he thought better of it. There was no use in staring a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak. Turning around, he headed back into the waiting room.
"So that's the woman?" Jet asked, anger nipping at his voice.
"Yeah, that's her," Spike answered after several tense seconds.
"She looks familiar."
"Yeah…she thought so, too."
"Faye. Faye thought so, too. Don't act like she doesn't have a name, Spike…she's not dead, yet," Jet scolded, that anger continuing to creep in.
Running a hand over his face, Spike flopped back down in his chair and tried to think of what to say. Jet deserved something from him…anything that he was able to give.
"I didn't want things to happen like this, Jet," he started, suddenly barely able to hear his own voice through his increasing remorse. "It's just…after she lost the baby, I guess I kinda got really freaked out by it all, ya know?"
"I hope that's not your reasoning, cause if it is, then it stinks," Jet interjected.
"Just let me finish, kay?" Spike asked, no disrespect apparent in his voice. "That day you and Ed went to the store, something happened with me and Faye. She, uh…she joked about the baby and I took it wrong. I got mad at her, and then she got mad at me, and then one thing lead to another. Uh…to make a long story short, since Ed's in here, we ended up, well…you know.
"But the thing is, it wasn't like it usually was. The only thing I felt, really, was like, we were falling apart…falling away from each other, you know? After that, I dunno…I guess I just stopped thinking rationally," Spike paused momentarily as he heard Jet scoff at him. "And I, uh…I though that it would be best if we broke up. I mean, she didn't talk to me, and I didn't talk to her, so I just figured that we had gotten all that we could from each other.
"I know it doesn't make sense and I don't expect you to understand it…most of the things I do aren't meant to be understood. But as you saw, I just stayed away from her. I…I wanted her to hate me. I wanted her to leave me, cause I couldn't do that myself. She's…she's not easy to let go of for some reason, and so I decided that I'd let her get rid of me instead. I thought that if I wasn't there for her, if I was just a general asshole to her, she'd take it upon herself to just say 'fuck you', and get out of this.
"I don't think our relationship was ever healthy, mainly because I wasn't healthy when everything started. I mean, I was what? Two, three months out of rehab? I try and brush it off, forget about it I guess, but I was really fucked up when I was on that shit."
Spike stopped again as he noticed Jet motioning to a now sleeping Ed. Not wanting to argue, but full aware that Ed had heard her share of foul language, Spike tried to clean up his words and continued on.
"Honestly, and please don't tell Faye this if it ever comes up, but the only reason I started sleeping with her was as a way to keep my mind off of the drug. Well, it's not the only reason, but a big part in the decision to do so. I know it may be hard to believe, but I really don't go around, bedding every woman I meet. And that's a big reason why I was so iffy about this kid in the first place. Either way, I was gonna love the kid and do everything for it, but we gotta face the facts: none of us are in the right place to raise a newborn baby.
"You've got your hands full, Jet, with Ed and, well, the rest of us in general. And Ed's still a kid, herself. Faye, while I'm sure the motherly instinct is in her somewhere, is still too new to her memories. I still think she needs time to understand herself before she can really get anyone else. And then there's me, heh. I still get really bad cravings every now and then, and I know I can't be a good dad, yet."
Jet looked on as Spike's eyes became clouded, almost as if he was remembering something. Taking a sip from the cup of water next to him, Jet leaned back and studied the man across from him some more.
"My old man was, well…he just was, I guess. He wasn't a terrible guy, but he wasn't a real good one, either. He came around every so often, asking for money from my ma or taking me out for a burger or something. He never promised me anything, not once in my life, cause he knew he could never deliver. He…he was addicted to meth, and I swore that I'd never touch a drug because I didn't want to end up like him.
"My mom never married him, but she put up with him when he stumbled over, really strung out. I didn't want to put my ma through that and I didn't want to disappoint her. So, I guess it's a good thing that she's dead. My dad is, too, but that's all trivial. What I was trying to say is that my dad sucked at being a dad, and I know it's because he was an addict. If I'm gonna try parenthood and all, I want to do a hell of a lot better job than he did. And I…I still want the drug too much."
Spike's eyes flickered to Jet's face, trying to discern the look he saw there. While he figured Jet was no dummy, Spike didn't want to confirm his fears, either. The whole heroin debacle had really taken a toll on Jet. The older man had done so much for him, and yet that's how he showed his appreciation. Spike had promised to stay clean, and so far he had, but to come right out and admit that he still had strong cravings could possibly shatter Jet's waning faith in him.
"It's the look you get, when you really want it," Jet said, breaking the silence. "Your leg jitters a little and you rub the bridge of you nose a lot. I noticed it before you went to rehab. I try to ignore it, but it's hard to overlook. I'm just…I'm just always glad when you don't give in to that. And if fuc…if Faye helps that, then I don't think she would mind, either.
"But I still don't think that's a good reason to do what you did. I mean, what were you thinking, Spike? Faye loves you, if that means anything to you. Even if you did want to break things off with her, you should have at least told her that before you went after someone else."
"I never meant to go off with someone else!" Spike almost yelled, anger suddenly erupting from him. "I never meant to sleep with her: Delilah, or anyone else for that matter! I wanted Faye to leave me because I was a jerk, not because I was a cheat. I didn't want to bring in another woman because I never wanted Faye to feel like I was replacing her or looking for something else. Faye can't be replaced.
"I didn't want her to feel inadequate, so I never thought about sleeping with someone else. It just happened. And I know that's no excuse, but there's no other way I can explain it. Am I looking for forgiveness? Hell no! I don't deserve it, and quite frankly, I don't want it. Any shit that comes my way; I've earned it.
"All I ever wanted to do was prove to her that I was no good…I never wanted her to get hurt. Not like this."
Spike had quieted down significantly, the gravity of the situation suddenly hitting him. He turned his head to the side, refusing to show his tears to Jet, and rubbed furiously at his eyes. Jet watched on as Spike once again tried to deny he felt, and sighed with controlled regret.
The older cowboy was about to speak up and say something, anything to give some sort of comfort to Spike, but a new prescence in the room halted his words.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Oswald," the man in the white coat said. "Are you the ones who came in with Ms. Valentine?"
Nodding and standing up, Jet and Spike approached the man, ravenous for any information on the woman.
"Yeah, we came in with her. I'm Jet, this is Spike, and the only asleep is Edward," Jet addressed as he shook the doctor's hand.
"Nice to meet you all," he diplomatically answered. "First off, I want to extend my deepest apologies. I can't imagine how devastating this must be for all of you."
"You can say that again," Jet muttered.
"Well, I'm glad to say that she is alive, however, she is in extremely critical conditions. Her injuries were very significant, to say the least. Car versus person doesn't usually end very well. Thankfully, the car was traveling slower, since it was on a smaller street so it seems, so the impact wasn't as severe. But she does have extensive damage, nonetheless.
"A quick rundown of her injuries include: a broken left tibia, a fractured right ankle, a fractured collar bone, and four broken ribs. One of her ribs perforated her left lung, which prompted its collapse, but we were able to re-inflate and that should heal nicely. And while this damage is easily repaired, we have run into a bit of a problem."
"What kind of problem?" Spike spoke up, not liking the doctor's tone at all.
"The impact sent her flying a few feet," Dr. Oswald started, flipping through the pages on the chart in his hands, "and her head collided with the asphalt rather hard. And from the paramedics report, when they arrived on the scene, she wasn't breathing. In the ambulance, they could only get a faint rhythm, and we weren't able to stabilize her breathing until she got here. So all in all, her brain was deprived of oxygen for a few minutes, and brain cells start to die off after just two minutes of that type of deprivation."
"So what are you saying?" Spike asked again, irritated by how the doctor was skirting around the issue.
"What I'm saying is…she's in a coma."
"A what!" Jet exclaimed.
"Now I know 'coma' isn't a word anyone wants to hear, but I'm confident that she will wake up from this soon. Though her brain was cut off from air, we have her hooked up to and EEG machine at the moment, and her brain waves appear normal. This leads me to believe that thankfully, she has suffered no permanent brain damage.
"I figure that her coma has been brought on by the stress of the accident, and as I said, I'm confident that she will wake."
"Are you sure this isn't some mumbo jumbo, doctor shit?" Spike asked, no longer caring about his language.
"No, sir, it isn't," the doctor responded, not too put off by Spike's less than amicable behavior. "We are going to run one more test on her, and that should take about a half hour. After that, we will wheel her into a private room, and you'll be able to see her then. For now, though, I just have to ask you to wait. Do you have any questions for me?"
"You're positive that she's going to be okay?" Jet reiterated.
"Yes, I believe that she will be alright."
"And when can we see here?"
"Just as soon as this last test is done. I'd say within the hour. Now I don't mean to run out on you," Dr. Oswald said as he checked the vibrating beeper on his hip, "but I'm being paged. It looks like we're ready for the last test. I or a nurse will come get you when she's done. Just take a seat and she'll be ready soon."
And with that, the doctor left the two men to think. Belatedly obeying what he had said, Jet and Spike sat down once more and let the doctor's words seep in. So she was alive. Broken and nearly dead, but alive nonetheless. A relieved look washed over Jet, though he'd save the smile for when he saw her with his own two eyes. Spike, too, was more than relieved at the news, but now he was beginning to worry about how she'd really be. Just because some scanner said her brain was fine didn't mean it was. But Spike figured that he was thinking fatally, as he often times did, and decided to focus on the fact that she was alive.
Both Jet and Spike looked towards the middle of the room were Ed was sleeping then. Something was disturbing her rest and she began to cry out lightly. Getting up and walking over to her, Jet sat down and put his arm around the child. As if subconsciously knowing who was now around her, Ed settled down and fell back into some sort of peaceful sleep. Spike looked on and sighed at what he saw; acknowledging that at least something in his life could still be so prestine.
so, that was just one big scene of hospital-y craziness. a lot of talk, a lot of emotion, but thankfully, no more deliliah. next time around, we get to see faye. let's hope this coma thing doesn't last long. oh, and i'd like to give another shout out to adsv and ayesha for the awesome reviews. please keep 'em coming! well then, thanks for stopping by.
phoenix
