Hey all, it's been a minute. Okay, here is the newest chapter. Now virtually everything here is spot on except for a few minor details such as family drama and shiz. my family was real supportive and no one was trying to slap each other lol. Finally T2Angel can stop fussing at me for not uploading! Until next time.
The Ditch
Chapter Six
The E.R. (part two)
The remaining time at Gotham University hospital had been rather smooth. Night turned into early morning, and finally the busyness of the Emergency Room slowed some, leaving the overworked staff with brief flitters of peace. Finally, the once unbearable moans of agony from the Jokerz countless victims had (though not entirely silenced) dulled. The same could even be said for the wearied and traumatized Maxine. She'd suffered for three hours with her injuries before medication been prescribed; but now was eased under medicinal influence and rested with minimal discomfort. Her friends and family seemed to fill the room to its brim; everyone naturally expected the hospital staff to tell them to depart into waiting rooms – but given the teen's injuries and story behind them (as well as her prolonged anguish under the E.R.'s care) no one had the heart to say anything. Max's mom Loretta Gibson had been on the phone periodically, informing any and every one possible about her youngest daughter's plight. Her eldest sister Sasha sat diligently beside Max's bed, watching the sibling like a hawk for any slightest indication she was in pain once again. Dana, Chelsea and Nelson pressed against a wall – tired, but not once complaining. After all, what did they really have to complain about in comparison to what their friend had endured? Absolutely nothing.
Not long after she'd stabilized, staff came and took Max for an X-Ray to check the extent of her injuries – an event the girl found uncomfortable and exhausting. Even with the pain killer running through her bloodstream, Gibson felt the unnatural pull of flesh on her leg going in a direction it shouldn't have – causing the female to wince and squeal lightly. By the time she'd returned Max was starving, yet the nurses were adamant in denying the teen food until they knew what was going to be done.
Somewhat solemnly, time continued to pass while no more nurses came to visit the patient, and after Max breaking down the story for curious ears, Chelsea turned on the small hovering television to a kids' channel where "The Flintstones" was having a late night marathon. Even though Max giggled as Bam Bam pummeled a pair of Bedrock thieves with his mighty club, Loretta tried to argue her daughter was too old for such childish programs. In her mind Max was destined for brilliance – watching such foolhardy shenanigans was obviously beneath them. Chelsea immediately shut the older woman down through furrowed brows with, "I know Max pretty well, and she would prefer to watch a good cartoon as opposed to the crap that plays now." With that, Cunningham tucked the remote away under Max's pillow where her mother wouldn't dare reach to get it. From that moment on, it was plain to see Loretta and Chelsea had no fondness for one another. Not another word was spoken and mild tension hung in the air.
"Where's Terry?" Max murmured as she stirred from a light nap. The room was darkened but held a comforting glow from the lamp behind her headboard. All eyes immediately turned from The Flintstones marathon (surprisingly, the inhabitants had become unusually focused on the show) and the small room came to sudden life with movement. A warm hand touched her forehead and Max's brown eyes rested on Chelsea – who had managed to squeeze her way into the bed on Max's right side. So that's why she felt so comfortable. Max sighed and Chelsea rubbed her friend's pink scalp comfortingly. Max nearly purred.
"We tried calling, but can't reach him," the blonde answered in a soft tone. "But don't worry honey, I'm sure he'll be on his way." At least that's what she was trying to convince herself. Terry was always wherever Max needed him to be – though sometimes later than desired – so the popularity queen hoped this time wouldn't be any different. If McGinnis didn't show up it had to be because he was dead; and if he wasn't, he would be.
Unfortunately, not everyone in the room sympathized. Loretta snorted in disgust at even the thought of that riff raff daring to show his useless face. If he couldn't come earlier, he didn't need to come now. After all, the woman was already positive the boy was still a no good troublemaker. Max didn't need his kind of influence in her life anyway. "Like coming is going to do him any good!" Dana gave the mother a hard look but she continued, "That delinquent! I told you he was no good Maxine. Here you are, on the brink of death, and he hasn't even bothered to call. And you call that a best friend?" Brink of death? Everybody visibly stiffened at that analogy and the air got even heavier.
Nelson thrust his jaw upward with a scowl. "I second that."
Dana's icy gaze tossed in the sports junkie's direction. "Don't be a dreg, Nash," Tan warned the jock. Things had been going just fine and now all of a sudden everybody wanted to go up in arms. Clearly now wasn't the time. Max may have been numbed to the physical pain, but she wasn't numb to the irritation of anyone talking against her best friend. Dana narrowed her eye lids and came to stand on Max's left as she took the genius teen's hand to calm the girl who was starting to tremble. "That's not true, ma'am," Tan disputed. "Terry is the one who started looking for Max first! He's the one who got us to contact Commissioner Gordon. He's-."
Oh slag the pleasantries! "Basically-," snapped Chelsea after sitting up in the bed and giving the mother a look of pure hate – tired of the old woman's crooked, ignorant assumptions, and lack of compassion towards her daughter's plight by starting this bunch of horse shit, "-if it weren't for Terry there wouldn't have been such a big search effort to find Max. She might still be in that ditch – which means she'd be dead right now. Whatever issue you have with Terry, leave it at the door. Regardless of what you think that lug head loves Max. They're best friends for a reason. Show a little gratitude."
As badly as Loretta wanted to reach across the bed and snatch the blonde bimbo up like a prepubescent ragdoll that's probably been stretched far too wide open with excessive amounts of "playtime", the mother merely smirked and rolled her eyes in astonished disbelief before stating, "You sure know how to pick 'em Maxine."
Now Chelsea may have been a lot of things – wild, brash, moody, sassy, and a classy amount of fast – but she was not the type of girl that got pushed over; especially not when some dreg senior citizen bitch was obviously trying to call her out. And ESPECIALLY when said dreg senior citizen bitch was not only a foul mother, but (when it all came down to it) was the reason Max was jacked in the first place. Chelsea didn't care how arthritic the hag might be, the teen had officially lost all the patience she'd been trying to maintain for this woman since she'd arrived. "Excuse you?" shrieked Cunningham. The blonde beauty swung her legs over the side of the bed and commenced to head to confront Max's pitiful excuse of a mother; Sasha rose from her chair in her mother's defense, which only ticked Chelsea off even more. She'd take both their old asses! Dana stepped between the bed and Max's sister and a stare down ensued. Before things could get out of hand, thankfully Nelson caught Chelsea in his arms before she could even round the stretcher and escalate the mess any further.
Even in near death she couldn't catch a single break! Max sighed and closed her eyes, clenching fists into the sheets groggily. She was getting exceedingly tired of this. It was bad enough all the crap the girl had been forced to deal with today, bad enough that she felt an overwhelming bout of uncertainty clinging to her subconscious – but now everyone had the sudden urge to brawl out their differences? They didn't even know the extent of her injuries yet and already all anybody could think about was placing blame! Even when she was hurt there was no peace. "Shut up!" she groaned, raising a hand and placing it on top of her forehead with exasperation as she felt her mind whirl under the stress. "I had more peace with the damn Jokerz!" That notion made calmed the room some out of guilt. "Just let it go, mom. You're being selfish…"
Max's mother raised to her feet with bafflement and bristling anger, ignoring Chelsea's smug and victorious smirk. "Selfish? If we were being selfish we would have left hours ago! That McGinnis boy isn't worth the time. We have your best intentions at heart dear."
Oh, so now she had Max's best interest at heart? Where was all this caring while Max virtually raised herself in that apartment all alone? "Do you?" argued the pink haired teen as she directed all focus onto her mother with a frown. "I'm the one in this hospital bed. And I wouldn't be if-." Max took a deep breath as her mother stiffened. "Terry has always been there for me. ALWAYS. And if he isn't here now there must be a reason, a legitimate reason. I don't see dad here – complain about him."
"Max-!"growled out the older black woman.
"I trust Ter, mother. Why isn't that ever enough for you?!"
"BECAUSE HE'S TRASH!"
"Ahem," came a voice from the doorway. The group looked to find the head nurse standing there with a small tray in hand and a deepened scowl of agitation. The tray had two small cups on it, and what looked like to be the packaging for a spoon. "The doctor is reviewing your X-Rays, Miss Gibson. He'll be in in a few minutes to tell you what he's found. It's been nearly six hours since you've arrived and we've got permission to give you a little something: Jell-O and water. It's the most we can do right now."
An assortment of awkward thank you's answered the nurse from the group, but she continued standing in the doorway for a few more seconds before adding with a low warning, "Might I remind you: this is a hospital, ladies and gentleman. If there's any problems I insist you take it outside." She walked in the room as it fell silent and helped Max sit up before moving the tray closer so she could access the light meal carefully without involuntarily making a mess.
Max chewed her lip. She really wasn't a Jell-O fan but hunger overrides all discrimination. Right now, that Jell-O was a prime rib dinner from a soul food restaurant. But there was still an underlying concern. "Will I have surgery?" Gibson asked with a hint of worry in her voice. That was the only reason the brilliant Hill High student could think of as to why the hospital had denied her food, and was now providing only a small amount of something as nourishment. Max had never had surgery before, and as tough as the girl had constantly proven herself to be, she couldn't shake the thought of something going wrong on the table. The girl had almost died once already…
Sensing the patient's discomfort, the head nurse pat her hand in a reassuring gesture and offered the first real sincere smile that she'd probably shown all night. "We're not sure yet, but you're in good hands. In the meantime, eat. And if anyone gives you any trouble, hit the buzzer and we'll take care of it."
Chelsea murmured, "Hit the buzzer, Max."
The nurse turned and headed out the room after shooting Mrs. Gibson a warning glare. She stopped just outside the door and said to someone without bothering to completely hide her annoyance, "You better head in, before I decide to send everyone home."
Max had barely gotten the top of her cherry flavored Jell-O off when a shadow came around the hinge and momentarily hovered at the entrance. Max dropped her spoon on the table and took in a sharp intake of breath as her eyes began to burn and so many emotions swept through her soul. There he stood, hands in his pockets with a head lowered in shame. But his blue eyes locked on her, and she could see him trembling a little – though from excitement or nervousness, she was not sure of. Either way it didn't matter. He was finally here. "Terry…" the girl whimpered, making a sad attempt to sit up further. If her leg weren't busted she'd dash over into his arms. There was so much more she wanted to say – to thank him for saving her life – but of course she couldn't…not with present company. It had never been so difficult to keep his secret as it was right now in her immense gratitude and pleasure of seeing him.
Nelson grunted and Dana exhaled in relief, while Loretta and Sasha merely exchanged disapproving glances. Victorious yet again, Chelsea was right at the door to greet the late new addition with folded arms and an angered smile. "It's about damn time you showed up. Do you know how many times I called you? You'd better have a damn good excuse for not bringing your ass here sooner, McGinnis!"
Terry gave Max a sheepish look before turning back to Chelsea. If he didn't get her off his back then life as he knew it would end! There was no way Cunningham would let him stay. "Yeah," he answered, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. "I was still out searching. I hadn't gotten the news until much later. Sorry I missed your calls, my phone died. I had went back to Max's apartment to see if I could catch her mom or something when I ran into Gordon. She told me what was up and I came as soon as I could after running back by my house to check on mom and Matt."
Chelsea gave the answer some thought for a moment but finally nodded, accepting his reason. "Fine." With a reach, Cunningham grabbed McGinnis's ear and dragged his hissing frame towards the foot of the bed and then got hold of Nelson and Dana's arms and shoved them towards the door. "I think Max could use a break from us. C'mon, let's go pick up some grub." She glanced over her shoulder at Max's family as indication for them to follow suit. Reluctantly, Loretta and Sasha obliged and exited the room, assuring Max they'd be back soon. Secretly Max hoped otherwise.
Once the room had noisily emptied out, Terry rounded the bed at a slow crawl, but refused to make direct eye contact with her, only the blanket…only where her leg should have been. "I'm glad you're okay," he managed to whisper. There was a hidden meaning in his voice and Max cocked her head weakly in an attempt to decipher it.
"I wouldn't have been if it weren't for you," responded Max honestly with just as much softness in her voice. She reached out and touched the edge of his much too thin for this weather jacket and gently tugged – urging him without words to look at her. But he wouldn't, and it hurt her more than it probably should have.
"What's the damage?" he asked.
Max bit her lip. "According to the doctor? We're not sure yet."
Not sure yet? That was completely unacceptable! Terry raised a brow in disbelief. "What do you mean? You've been here for hours-."
"It took me hours just to get this damn I.V." returned Gibson with a snarl. "The Jokerz really wasted Gotham. I'm lucky they even had a corner for me here. I'm waiting for the results." McGinnis scowled a little and Max looked to her leg concealed by the blanket as if caught in a stupor of memory. "But I know, Terry," she continues. "I know I broke my leg. They gave me a cold compress for my ankle because at first glance it looked sprained, but I know my leg is broke. I saw the bone poking through the skin. My ankle is dislocated. I'm sure of it…They're going to have to realign it." Max's grip on his jacket tightened and shakiness filled her voice as she openly admitted, "I'm scared, Ter. It's going to hurt."
His entire soul completely shattered to its very core; right at that moment he wanted to fly off into the night sky and never return. Max – tough, sassy, and ever brave Max – was afraid…and deep down he knew there was nothing he could do to possibly console her. Terrence McGinnis stood at the bedside in silence and said nothing. It was almost like he wasn't even there, and though he knew that that must have been killing his best friend on the inside, McGinnis had no other answer. For hours he'd delayed coming to the hospital. The Jokerz initiations had pretty much slagged all of Gotham, and as Batman it was his responsibility to put an end to the mayhem. Yet, at the end of the day it was only an excuse. In his rage at what the Jokerz had done to her, at the remembrance of her fear, pain, and even death, Batman had not only put an end to the clown gangs mischief, but had probably avenged Max ten times over. Bruce of course disapproved of his course of action, but there was nothing the old man could say or do to stop Terry…especially when he himself didn't entirely blame the protégé for going overboard.
Even still, when the clowns had been dealt with, and when the streets had grown silent under the fresh snowfall, Batman sat on the roof of Wayne Powers watching over Gotham and becoming completely trapped within his thoughts and emotions. He could have been here hours ago – but how could he think about facing her? In Terry's mind, he was just as much at fault for this as Max's mother was. Guilt kept him from his best friend, and it crushed him to the core because once again she needed him, and once again he had failed her.
"Terry, please…" Max's voice cracked – unable to handle his silence any longer – and Terry met her gaze in an instant. Her face was composed, her eyes half-lidded from the medicine pumping through the I.V. in her arm – but she stared at him as if she could see the very thoughts plaguing his soul. He felt his knees starting to buckle.
"I'm sorry, Max," Terry whispered, taking her hand into his and brushing his thumb across her knuckles. "I should have been there sooner…"
But Max shook her head and smiled weakly. "Don't do that to yourself, Ter. You saved my life."
McGinnis scoffed. "I killed you," he murmured. It's what he really believed. Terry didn't know how to explain it, but this night had really done something to him. The sheer force of all its ups and downs had placed a heavy weight on the young vigilante. No one had a single idea of what he'd gone through: hearing his best friend be tortured by a group of troublemaking, psychotic clowns, listening to her scream of pain as she was stabbed; knowing that the girl who meant the whole world to him in more ways than he honestly could even comprehend was stranded somewhere in the middle of winter all alone without a single way of getting help while night fast approached. He'd spent hours breaking the faces of countless Jokerz as he tore through every hideout to find her…only to turn up empty handed each time. And then he flew right over her to take up a lead without even noticing! The person he was tearing Gotham apart for! And then by the time the Bat finally found her, she was dead – not unconscious, DEAD! Not because of the Jokerz – but because at the end of it all Batman, Terry, couldn't get there in time. Max was dead because of him; and in his head all he heard chanting over and over again were three words: "I killed Max!"
But then she came back and now the guilt of watching her recover after having resuscitated her washed over the teen like a tsunami. Terry McGinnis got to see firsthand just how weak the strongest woman he ever knew could really be...all because he (her best friend, her partner, her own personal Dark Knight) couldn't protect her.
It's no wonder he hadn't gone to see her sooner and used Gotham as a shield. It wasn't because he was too busy saving the day, but because he had become afraid of what she must have thought of him for what the young man saw as abandoning her. His guilt had him terrified of the one thing in this world he could not live with - Max hating him...
Max raised a brow and opened her mouth to question the futuristic Dark Knight when an older man in a white lab coat and stethoscope walks into the room with three other nurses. He looked to the young woman and mentioned to one of the nurses, "She needs more pain killer." Max blinked, suddenly feeling an ache in her leg that she hadn't noticed before. "Miss Gibson," the doctor stated, glancing at her original guest party as they shimmied inside quietly, "I'm Dr. Jenkins. I know you've been through a lot so I'm just going to get to the point." He held up a set of X-Rays and placed them onto a nearby lighted wall and pointed. Terry winced at the images. "You left leg is broken. The bone snapped clear through. It's not a pleasant break however. Some of the bone appears to have splintered. Your left ankle is fractured, and severely dislocated. The muscle, tendons, everything there has been completely stretched out to the point that naturally it won't hold together on its own. You're going to need surgery to fix both injuries there. Unfortunately, we've been trying to contact an orthopedic surgeon and no one is available."
Loretta swallowed and peered around a nurse. "So what does that mean, exactly?"
Dr. Jenkins shrugged, "It means that she can't get repaired tonight. All surgeons we've got here right now handle life threatening procedures. She can't die from a leg break – not if we treat it properly, pre-op. What we're going to do, however, is realign that leg and ankle and splint it." Thankfully he didn't notice Terry's wince of pain as Max squeezed his hand. "Then we'll get you in contact with the surgeon and he'll patch her up within the next 48 hours."
"What about her other injuries?" came a deeper and more matured voice from the doorway. Everyone turned and gasped in surprise at the sight of Bruce Wayne himself leaning on his cane with Commissioner Barbara Gordon at his side. Terry was obviously taken aback by his boss's arrival – probably far more than anyone else in the room. Gordon too, when he thought about it. What was she doing here? What were they both doing here? Somehow he imagined a major chewing out for his behavior tonight – something probably along the lines of keeping closer to the "Batman Code".
Max's chest heaved. She never thought she'd be so happy to see the grouchy senior citizen and former Caped Crusader. "Hi Bruce."
"You're looking well, Max," teased the older man with a gruff, mischievous smirk. Loretta nearly fainted at the informalities of their conversation. Max knew Bruce Wayne…
Dr. Jenkins replied, "Her laceration had been a fairly nasty one, but everything looks fine now – as fine as it can be. She lost a lot of blood, and after tonight I don't think we have enough to really go in and treat her stab wound as well as I would like. For now, she's been treated with a medicinal component that will help her laceration to properly heal. If we're lucky, she won't need surgery there at all. But it will have to be monitored nonetheless and she will have to be on bedrest for a while. Until then, we're going to get her leg splinted and send her home."
No one liked the sound of that. Chelsea rolled her neck. "What do you mean home? She flat lined, got stabbed, ruined her left leg, probably had hypothermia, and you're sending her home?!"
Dr. Jenkins frowned. "If there are any changes she is welcome to come back, but as it is right now, she's in no life threatening condition. And since she can't see a surgeon immediately, we have no need to keep her. Now, there are way too many people in here, we're going to need room to splint her. Say what you have to, and then please leave." The nurses headed out of the room to get the necessary supplies for the splint as the others reluctantly prepared to head out. Max's mother offered the girl words of comfort and then left immediately out to avoid having to watch the gruesome procedure as the doctor pulled out a syringe and injected something into the I.V. More pain killer.
"Will it hurt?" Max whined, clenching her fist together as she felt warm liquid rush through her chest.
"We're going to get you good and high. Even if it does hurt, you shouldn't remember a thing," assured the doctor. "The nurses will take good care of you." And like that, he was out of the room. Chelsea, Dana, and Nelson hung around a little bit longer for encouragement until the nurses finally returned. They finally left out – occasionally looking back over their shoulders with worried expressions. Barbara Gordon waited with the others in the hall but Bruce pulled up a chair and sat with palms folded along the top of his cane as the staff moved about in preparation. Terry stood near Max's head, still holding her hand. One of the nurses suggested the two men leave, but Max refused it; and so did they.
"Get ready, Miss Gibson," stated a brunette nurse that had a warm smile. "We're going to have to pull on your leg first and line the snapped bone up before dealing with the ankle. You're going to feel some discomfort, but we'll try to make it as quick as possible. Just hang on, okay?"
Max nodded but Terry noticed her body immediately beginning to shake with fear. Instinctively, Max took some of her blanket, rolled it, and stuffed it between her teeth like she had seen on television. The nurses giggled at the dramatic motion, but a few moments later they would all be grateful for the gesture. Terry knelt low enough for Max to see him and caressed her head. "You've got this Max. You've got this," he cooed as her chest pumped up and down rapidly and a nervous groan erupted from her lips.
Bruce held out a hand and took Max's, his stoic gaze offering her a protective presence. "Squeeze it, if you have to," the old man stated simply.
"Ready?" asked the nurse. Max nodded as two sets of hands touched her leg, and the third gripped her ankle. "Okay, now!" Her leg, which had shortened because of the break, was pulled, stretched apart as hands were able to unravel and bring to life every muscle, tendon, and nerve all at once in a single instant. The hurt was excruciating. Somehow the pain medicine hadn't even kicked in yet. Max could feel them trying to align the bone, could hear the voices telling her everything would be okay. But it was faint. All there was, was the pain. All there was, was the fear. Max writhed in her bed and squeezed Bruce's hand as tears fell from her eyes. "Try and keep her still," ordered the nurse. Terry's hands were immediately pinning her to the mattress as she fought against him with yells and hollers. The group gathered outside shivered eerily at the sounds that met them. Passing hospital staff did their best to hide their discomfort, while whispering to one another how much the commended the now famous girl on her strength. Apparently they'd heard grown men sound much worse.
"Max," Terry tried to comfort her as his throat caught with cracks that nearly made the teen choke. Seeing her like this was becoming too much. He did this to her... "Max-!" He didn't get the chance to finish. He couldn't even think of the words to say. All he heard from that point on: was her screams.
To Be Continued...