CHAPTER 14

((back to cease the pain…hahaha…here comes the next chapter…and you are all thanks for not killing him…yes I haven't killed him…yet…muahaha…you'll just have to wait and see what happens…I've had the whole life or death thing in my head for a long time and I know exactly what is going to happen…read and review…XOXO, CHRISTINE))

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I know this really isn't you
I Know Your Heart Is Somewhere Else
And I'll Do Anything I Can
To Help You Break Out Of This Spell
I See You Following your Crowd
I Know You're Trying To Fit In
But If Your Gonna Find Yourself
You Gotta Start From Deep, Deep Within

Hold On To What You Believe

I Will Always Be Your Friend
I Know Who You Are Inside
I Am With You Till The End
Never Far Behind
I am standing in the distance
You can take your time
And I will be there waiting
Never Far Behind
Yeah
Never Far Behind

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Two more long weeks passed, days of nonchalant. Jake showed no signs of improvement. The only way they could tell he was still alive was the heart rate monitors. The doctors were becoming less and less optimistic, but through it all, Dr. Howart remained true to his word. He told no lies, only the truth, the harsh truth.

Clarissa, the troubled receptionist was always there. She sat at the desk all day and night, wide awake, shaken at the smallest sound. She seemed to have lost all trust of the world, afraid she would be attacked at any second. The hospital had confiscated a kitchen knife she had used to stow away in her shirt just in case. They hadn't let her leave the hospital for her own safety. But why didn't they just lock her up in an asylum and be done with it?

"Miles, you need to come with us back to the hotel, tonight," Robbie Ray gently told her, "You need an actual night of sleep. You can't get a good night's rest here."

"I'm not leaving him," Miley replied, tiredly, "What if he wakes up?"

"I'll be sure to call you," Mrs. Ryan assured her. "The first thing that boy will probably say is 'where's Miley?' He won't even want to see his own mother."

Miley noticed the flicker of jealousy spurting in her eyes. She wanted her son to herself. At this time, she had no interest in sharing him with another person. "But, if I was here, then maybe he wouldn't be so scared when he woke up, and he could save his voice," Miley tried to reason.

"Dear, this is not about him. It's about you. I will call you if anything happens, I promise."

"I will be fine!" Miley exclaimed. "I am not leaving him!"

Robbie Ray sighed sadly. "But Miles…"

"No buts, dad!" Miley spat. "I want to stay here with him! I feel more comfortable around him!"

"My dear girl, you are only 15!" Mrs. Ryan exclaimed. "You cannot be telling me you think you love him for real! This is just puppy love, teenage love, the love you feel when you hold your hand in someone else's for the first time! Teenage love is not real love! Real love soars above the mountains, on birds wings, flying across the lands, in a euphoria of happiness! Real love is marriage! You cannot honestly say you feel ready to marry him!"

"Well I am not lying!" Miley shouted, "I love him, and if you truly loved him, you would let me stay here with him, because he would feel more comfortable!"

Mrs. Ryan began to cry, now, tears of stress, tears of love, tears of sadness, tears of jealousy, tears of everything. "He is my son." She was speaking in a barely audible whisper, now. "And I am not ready to let him go, yet. He is still my baby boy."

"He is mine, too, now, Mrs. Ryan, we can share him," Miley was beginning to cry too. "I love him just as much as you do."

"What if he doesn't love you back?" Mrs. Ryan questioned in a sad whisper. "What if he wakes up wanting to feel somebody else in his arms, instead of you? He's fifteen, Miley, fifteen. Fifteen year olds usually don't settle down for life. They explore instead."

"I know he loves me, and I know he always will," Miley answered in a low, almost growl. "The day of the plane crash, I woke up when it went down, and for twenty minutes I was anxious as all hell. I didn't know why. All I knew was that something was horribly wrong. Twenty minutes later, I felt relaxed, at peace. That was when my heart knew he was still alive. That's how much I love him."

"A coincidence…" Mrs. Ryan began.

"Not a coincidence," Miley cut her off. "I love him, and it's time you start accepting that he has another girl in his life." Mrs. Ryan stood there crying. "I am going to stay here with you, Mrs. Ryan, keep you company. I will also be here for Jake. I will never leave him." Mrs. Ryan nodded, sobbing. Reality was crashing down on her shoulders, but could she support the weight?

Miley slept on the side of the bed, next to him, much to Mrs. Ryan's dismay. She fell asleep pouting and sniffling in a nearby comfy chair. She wished she could sleep next to the son she bore and raised. Seeing him with another girl, even while unconscious, was almost too much for her. She had lost a lot in her lifetime, her parents, her grandparents, her best friends, and her brothers and sisters. She felt like her husband and Jake were her only hope for life. If they left her, she wouldn't know what to do.

It was deep in the darks of the night, pitch black in the room, when a loud horn sounded. "BBBBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPP!" It sounded like an air horn, not the heart monitors. Miley awoke suddenly, looking at the rate screen expecting the flat line, but to her amazement there wasn't one of any kind. Doctors and nurses poured in like water from a flood, shouting things like, "Give him a 223!" or "pump the air, pump the air!" Miley and Mrs. Ryan had no clue what was happening. Mrs. Ryan gave a wail of despair in her little corner, curling into a ball. She was afraid of the doctors and nurses all around her son at once. It showed abnormality to her. It could only be a bad thing.

Miley made her way through the large crowd over to Mrs. Ryan, putting a comforting arm around her. "It will be alright. He will be alright." Miley found herself unbelieving of her own words, but she knew she must convince Mrs. Ryan. "Jake's not going anywhere, not tonight." Mrs. Ryan gave her a bewildered look. She couldn't believe this young girl was taking the weight on her shoulders so well while helping others cope. Her son really had found a strong, poised girl.

"Good news," Dr. Howart said, smiling. "He is now breathing on his own, steadily. We will keep the ventilator in just in case he needs it, but it will be a constant flow of natural air that he will breathe on his own. The ventilator will no longer do the breathing for him. If he were to stop breathing on his own, the horn would blast again, and we would have to program the ventilator to breathe for him."

"Does this mean he'll wake up?" Miley asked, anxiously.

"It is not assured," Dr. Howart answered, "because of the brain damage, but since he is breathing on his own, it means the brain is beginning to function properly again. Usually when one begins to breathe, consciousness is never far behind. I want you to remember it isn't a sure thing, but it is more likely he will wake up, now."

"Thank you so much," Mrs. Ryan cried joyfully.

He continued to breathe on his own for another solid week and a half. "Jake, please wake up," Miley was moaning, "The doctor says there's a significant chance you will. Take that chance. This isn't your time."

Everyone was impatient. The improvements shown rekindled the fire of hope burning in their hearts. The small spark had ignited into a large pride-showing flame, but Jake showed no signs of life.

Two more weeks went by, hope becoming absent once again. Miley hadn't left the hospital in a month. Robbie Ray suspected she was beginning to forget what the outside even looked like.

One nonchalant day, Miley, Lily, Jackson, and Oliver were sitting in the room. Mrs. Ryan and Robbie Ray had gone to pick up lunch. Lily and Oliver had grown back to their state of awkwardness. The shock of the accident had worn off, and more or less, everything returned to normal except for the fact that everyday was spent in a frighteningly sanitary hospital.

Lily and Oliver were quietly sitting on opposite ends of the room both of them staring at each other. They'd make eye contact, then both look away embarrassed. Then they'd make eye contact again, then once again they would turn away turning a bright color of crimson. Miley had been watching this silently for the past hour and couldn't take it much longer. She was about to crack.

"Would you two just admit you like each other?" Miley asked, annoyed. "Watching you two acting like idiots is quite boring, and if you would get over yourselves, we could actually have a halfway enjoyable time."

"In a hospital?" Oliver incredulously gaped.

Miley ignored the statement. "Oliver, I want you to look at Lily and say I love you, now." She wasn't up for playing games. Oliver was silent, scared. "I'm waiting."

Oliver turned even redder, if possible. "Um…Lily…um…I…um…love you.Iloveyou."

Lily giggled nervously. "I love you too, Oliver."

"Now kiss," Miley commanded. She need not have said anything. Oliver was already half way across the room. As the two shared their first non-boob-related kiss, a small cough came from the unconscious board on the bed.

Miley looked over, expecting it to be her imagination. Jake would still be in his coma. But, to her surprise, his eyes were open, scanning the room, nervously. He tried to speak, but couldn't find his voice.

"Jake, don't say anything," Miley said excitedly, "I'll call the doctor." She headed towards the door for the nurses' station.

"Wait," he had found his voice. "Where's my mom?"

"She's getting lunch," Miley replied. "One second. I am going to get Dr. Howart."

"Wait," Jake moaned again. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, anything," Miley replied warmly, hiding her slight annoyance.

"Who are you?"

((that's all for this chapter…the next one will be up quite soon…maybe tonight or tomorrow…I don't know…we'll see…XOXO, CHRISTINE))