She looked through the window. They had told her that he little boy was in a coma. For her it seemed as if he was sleeping, but this illusion soon got destroyed when she had looked at him, hooked on an artificial respiration and several IV's and other machines. They weren't sure if her little boy would make it, but if he would, he probably was going to be a case of nursing care. His backbone was smashed and nobody was able to predict what damage it had caused on his spinal marrow. There had been several internal injuries and now he got foreign blood. She didn't like the thought that her son was supplied by blood from a person she didn't even know. It sounded disgusting to her, but if it helped her son to survive it was a good thing. And there had been so many broken bones. It was awful. She was glad that her little boy wasn't able to notice anything. She felt awfully helpless. There was nothing she could do. She wanted to help her son, to make him feel better, but she even didn't know if he felt anything right now. Holly had been there, she had wanted to see how Neil was, but she had sent her away. She had been there and hadn't been able to call an ambulance. If she has had only a few seconds time -for her what she called boyfriend- Neil probably wouldn't be here now, but at home, where he belonged to. How could she still consider herself as girlfriend? She hadn't been there for him, when Neil needed someone. She had been bothered by his problems, didn't want to listen to him. She only wanted to have fun, nothing more, but this never had been enough for her boy. This never could have been enough for him. Her little baby was so full of emotions, he needed somone who responeded to them. Holly never had done so. Only now she realized how lonely her little boy must have been. More than twenty-two years of painful loneliness and it never had broken her son. He had went on and on, nevertheless how hard things had been. After all she had witnessed, after all she knew, she began to wonder why she never had realized that her son was more than a pot smoinkg good for nothing. Why hadn't she seen that her son only had been fooling them, playing a role? Why hadn't she seen that all this rebellious behaviour had been nothing more than a measure of protection? With this she began to feel guilty. How hurt must her boy have been, when he needed such measures? How badly must he have been hurt, when he needed to protect himself against him own parents? This whole thing was the result of misunderstandings and their disability to pay attention, to care for their little son. Why hadn't been someone there for him? Why had he to be alone? Why had he to be alone in a houshold which was full of people? Twenty-two years of pain and loneliness but it never had brokern her baby. He had gone on and on, nevertheless what had come towads him, nevertheless how alone he had been, he had won every fight.

She still wanted to kill this drunken woman who had crashed into her baby. She wanted to kill this hit-and-run driver, who was Holly's aunt. She felt so much hate inside, she never thought she was able to feel. One person had caused so much pain and wasn't even able to say sorry. She hated this woman, who had caused this misery. She hated Holly for not having time for her little baby, although he had needed someone so badly. She also hated her husband who had picked up this silly quarrel although he had known better, although he already had known that his son was such an intelligent boy. In somehow she even hated Marc, because he hadn't cared for his brother's problems. And most of all she hated herself for horning in into this stupid fight, for not recognizing the change in her son, for not realizing what a boy he was. Now she stood here waiting for any sign that her son was going to push through this, but there was nothing. And all this only because they had forced their little baby out of their house, out of his home where he should have been safe. He never had been safe there, in no single minute. That's why he always had been out for so long. She stood there watched her little son and waited for her other son. Marchad brought Chuck home, seeing his son that bad injured had hit him for six. He had been close to a nervous break down. She won't ever forget how he stood there, his shirt drenched in his son's blood, this empty glance in his eyes, having lost his composure. Nothing ever had made him that weak as he had been in this moment. He never had lost composure, he always had been that one who still stood upright when all others already had been in a sorry state. This must have been the most awful experience in his life and she was glad that she hadn't had to witness. She was thankful that her husband had been there. She didn't want to think of what had happened if he hadn't driven to his son, to help him. Holly would have let her son die, without betting an eyelid. How could her little baby been so in love with such a bitch?

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"How's he doing?" Marc asked in a quite voice. He had staid calm through the whole time, but in his inside his emotions seethed as her did. She could see it in the way he acted, in his eyes, his voice. Why did she know Marc that good? Why was she able to see what he felt and thought, but not what was going on with Neil? Was she really such a bad mother? She was and this was no secret to her. She always had thought that she was managing the houshold and her children well, but she didn't. Neil had fallen apart and she hadn't caught him up. He had pulled himself out of the mess he had sat in and had started to become an astronaut like his father. She probably never was going to expire this development, her son never was going to be a part of NASA. Worse of all, he probably never would be a part of her life again.

"Nothing changed yet, but he's still alive." She took his hand. She had waited for him, before she entered the room. She wasn't able to handle this on her own. From this distance things already were so awful, it would be worse inside. She needed him, his comfort and support.

"I better wait here. I don't think that he wants me to be here." Marc refused. She looked at him. He felt uneasy. He always had kept a distance between him and Neil. Not in a mean or aggressive way, but in a defensive one. He always had made clear to his little brother that they were nothing more than the children from the same people.

"Why do you keep a distance? He's your brother. I'm sure he wants you to be here." She tried to make him feel better. There was something working on his mind and she had a slight idea what this was. But she also knew that Neil never had thought of Marc as a kind of enemy. He always had looked up to him.

"I don't, but…He doesn't like me, so I don't wanna bother him with my presence." She gave her son a little smile. He was looking for an explanation. He had found none. She knew much too well how wrong this sentence was. And she knew that Marc didn't believe what he had said himself. Sure they had their little fights, but this was nothing unusual for brothers. But inwardly one would give his life for the other one.

"You always knew what he hid from us, didn't you?" She asked him. He nodded.

"Why didn't you say a word?" He needed to get rid of this. She saw it in his eyes, in his face. He tried so hard to be his father, but this cold calculating character didn't fit him. This wasn't his personality.

"It was embarrassing. I…he's five years younger than me, but reads books I'm not able to understand what they are about…he…he explained me physical equations I needed hours for to understand. This is just embarrassing." She traced with her hand over his cheek.

"No, this isn't embarrassing. He's only an exceptional talent. Nobody should feel embarrassed because of this. People like him you only find one in a billion."

"And that's the point. He's an exception and I'm only standard and even not that." Oh no. None of her son's was going to think about himself that bad. But unfortunately both did so. What had she done that both sons had the feeling of not being enough for them?

"Oh no. That's not true. You're a wonderful son and I know that you will be perfect in everything you want."

"Sure, NASA is the best proof for it."

"I was talking about something you want, not what your father or I want. Don't you think I didn't realize that NASA is the last thing you want to be part of?" She had the feeling as if this was the right time to tell her son this. She probably would lose one; she didn't want to lose her other one because of nothing.

"But…"

"Nothing but. Now you come with me. I'm sure your brother wants you to be at his side. Inwardly he had admired you for the way you're handling our rotten family situation, trying to hold upright an illusion, without breaking." She remembered her youngest look, when Marc again had been able to be something he didn't want to be and this in a more than excellent manner.

"That's why he called me a brown-noser."

"He was only envious, because he isn't able to switch into another role than the one he owes."

"But don't you think this way it's better than turning with the wind?"

"No, it only causes more trouble. Your father is the best example. And you aren't turning with the wind as long as your aim remains the same. Why not using a role to reach it, without trouble, but in a more diplomatic way? You're not changing your personality. You only know how to behave in each situation. That's what I mean with switching into roles. You know how to choose the diplomatic way."

"How do you do this?" Her son took her into his strong arms.

"What?"

"Never losing your optimism and always finding the right words?"

"Experience of life." She took her son's hand again and then they entered the room. With her son at her side, she was sure she was able to bear this now. She felt how Marc had trouble to remain calm, but she didn't feel different.

Week after week had passed and her son still hadn't awoken from the coma, but maybe this wasn't as bad. There still were a lot of surgeries to be done, to fix his backbones, his knee, his wrist. She entered her son's room. He still hadn't started to breath on his own, but this didn't mean the world. She was sure that her son was going to make it. He only needed some more time to rest. No matter what the doctors told her, she was reluctant to believe that her little baby would never come home again. She went to her son, gave him a kiss.

"Hey honey. Kelsey and Bodanis have called and asked for you. They wanted to come by for a visit, but I told them that they should wait a bit. I know you don't want anyone to see you like that." She went to the window and opened it. She knew her son would hate this, being helpless and reliant on other people's help. He always had managed everything on his own. He would feel annoyed when someone would take his independency from him.

"Your brother had quit NASA. I think this is the best he could have done. He had applied for a university place at Princeton and now guess what he wants to study. One hint: it has nothing to do with mathematics or physics." She waited, although she knew that her son wouldn't answer, but maybe he did hear her and she wanted to give him a chance to think for himself.

"Law. Your brother wants to be a lawyer. This matches much better than this scientific stuff. What do you think?" She sat down, took her son's hand and talked to him as if he was awake.

Weeks went on like that. Her son's injuries didn't heal well or better not as fast as they should, but this meant nothing to her. She visited her son everyday and staid several hours. Sometimes she brought some flowers, sometimes she drunk a caramel macchiato, her son's favourite, maybe the smell would wake him up. But there was no change insight, but she didn't lose her hope. Her son would wake up. She knew him. He wouldn't run away from a little problematic situation like this one. He would fight this. He only was regaining his strength for this fight. Her husband watched about it with a critical eye, but he never had been a very emotional person, he wasn't able to understand that she needed this.

Sometimes all three went to look after Neil. Today was such a day.

"Paige he's in a coma for over two months now." Chuck started a conversation. Why did he tell her this? She knew that. She didn't need him to say these words aloud.

"I know."

"Paige I talked to the doctor. This kind of stadium…he…probably won't wake up anymore."

"Chuck, what do you want to tell me?" She hated it, when her husband started to beat around the bush. They never had done so, she wouldn't start with it. There was no need for this behaviour.

"That…that…Paige he's dead. The only thing keeping him alive is this! He's a living machine…nothing more!" Chuck screamed at her, while he was pointing at the respirator.

"No…no, this, you can't talk like that!" She screamed back. She won't allow her husband to think of his son as already dead. He wasn't in a position to take all her hope from her. It was not her fault that he was such an emotionless and rational person. She wouldn't allow him to bother her with his calculating thougts.

"Paige you need to face the facts! He's never going to make it." How could her husband talk like that? He would make it, she was sure about that. He had pushed through so much he only needed his time. This here was no little problme to be solved. This here was a battle which needed time to be won. She flew into rage.

"How can you dare to talk like that?" She slapped her husband's face. He only shook his head and left. She saw how Marc followed him. She couldn't hear what it was. Chuck left. Marc came back to her.

"His life had started with a fight and it been a fight through all his seventeen years. He's only taking a brake and he deserves it." She couldn't hold back her tears. She had to cry. She had to cry, because her husband was right. The chances that her son would wake up again tended to zero and there had been no sign that this was going to change. Inwardly she already had lost all her hope. Inwardly she knew that her son wasn't strong enough for this fight. They already had taken so much strength from him, there wasn't enough left for himself. Her husband was right and this hurt. It hurt so badly. She had lost her son and she never had been able to show him that she really meant these words she had given to him this one night before the chaos had broken out.

Marc took her into his arms. She shouldn't have allowed him to come back with them. She should have explained to him, why he needed to stay in this what ever it was. But she hadn't been able to do so. She had known that she would have lost her son and this was unbearable for her.