A/N: I realize this chapter has been long awaited, and I apologize. I didn't forget about you guys; my life got a little hectic this summer. I met someone who's made quite an impact on my life in the last three months, and have been contemplating moving from home to another family member's house. I also just spent the last 4 weeks at home, so I was unable to post the new chapter while I was there. Anyway, I come to you with a silver platter of 9 full pages of a new chapter :D. Enjoy.
A/N #2:So… looking back at the other chapters of this story… I realized I've been confusing my dear doctor's name and flip-flopping back and forth between Dr. Noth and Dr. Kosh. Originally they were supposed to be one person, however since I've made this beautiful mistake, they are now two different people. Sorry for any of the confusion. (And yes, as an author, I am ADMITTING that I make errors.)
Chapter 7
Just To Be Quiet
Amy awoke with a startle, rubbing her eyes wearily. The clock across the room read 2:32 AM, but the gagging coming from several feet next to her was enough to scare the hell out of her.
She jumped from her bed, pushing through the myriad of doctors to get to Ricky, taking his hand. She caught on to what a doctor was saying mid-sentence and cut in, leaning over so that Ricky was focused on her. "Calm down; you're okay. It means you can breathe on your own. Now try and be still so they can take the tube out."
Her voice was laced with sounds of sleepiness, but she stood firmly at his side as another doctor stepped in and unhooked the tubing and then slowly removed the tube from his throat. When it was finally out, he burst up in the bed, holding the bed sheet tightly in his fist as he coughed. A nurse placed a bucket in front of him and he clenched onto it as he coughed up phlegm in his throat. At the same time, Dr. Noth moved behind him and listened to Ricky's breaths as he gasped for air. A few seconds later, he hit Ricky's back as hard as he could and then stepped back as Ricky heaved into the bucket in front of him.
Ricky lifted his head slowly, taking several slow breaths before he sat up fully, handing the bucket off to a nurse.
"You can breathe," Dr. Noth questioned.
Ricky nodded, looking up at Amy after a minute. "Wh…" His voice faded. He supposed he wasn't surprised. He took several more breaths and then looked up at Amy again. "Where's John?"
Amy gulped the knot in her throat. She hadn't had a real conversation with him in nearly a week, and the first thing he was asking her as bout their son. In her heart, she knew he was right to ask, but it didn't mean she didn't feel like he'd kicked her just the smallest bit in the stomach. She walked across the room and leaned over, picking up her sleeping son out of the pack-and-play. She shifted him into her good shoulder and then walked back over to Ricky's bed, resting John in the nook of Ricky's broken leg. Ricky reached forward, running a hand through his son's hair, and then grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly.
"I almost died," Ricky spoke softly. "I almost died, and his last visual of me would've been me bleeding on the floor, seconds close to dead."
Amy chewed lightly on her bottom lip so she didn't tear scab open, but she didn't really know what to say to him. On one hand, she could tell him that John is young; that in a few weeks, the memory would be almost nonexistent, but Ricky would take that as almost dying and his son not remembering him. On the other hand, she couldn't really blame him for what he was feeling. She too had questioned whether they'd actually survive and make it out that school. He almost didn't.
She sat down on the edge of the bed next to his good leg, looking down at her son. "The point is that you did, and we're both still here," she whispered. Her eyes drifted. To the floor, and then to her own bed, before they finally met his. Those hazel brown eyes that she hadn't seen in days.
Dr. Noth finally exited the room, and Ricky looked up at Amy, finally looking at her clearly.
"I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, scratching it with his good hand, as if he could make the scratchiness go away. "I left you hanging out on a limb. I asked you to marry me, and then I just…I left you hanging."
Amy nodded slowly, swallowing back the knot in her throat. "It's okay," she mumbled. She didn't really want to discuss this.
Ricky took the hint by the look on her face and shifted on the bed, laying back some. "So does anyone know when school is starting up again," he asked.
Amy stared down at her son, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "I don't know. All I keep hearing about is how the investigation is going and that the west wing of the school might be rebuilt. I know for the rest of the year they're talking about moving us to Van Nuys High School."
"Taking a page out of the Columbine book," Ricky surmised as he ran a hand through his hair. "They transferred their students to another high school for the remainder of the school year in 1999."
"Where do you store this information," Amy asked, baffled. It amazed her sometimes, the amount of information he knew. She knew that it was because reading and the news were the only source of escaping the hell he'd lived in when he was still with his parents, but it didn't stop her from being absolutely floored.
Ricky shrugged. "Knowledge is power." He looked up at the IV drip, scratching his neck. "I hate to do this now, but I-"
"Need sleep," Amy finished wearily for him. She nodded and lifted John off the bed, moving him back into the pack and play before she crawled back into her own bed. Pulling the blankets tightly around her, she rested her head back against the pillow. A lone tear fell down her cheek before she drifted off to sleep.
Two can keep a secret
If one of them is dead
Amy pulled the covers tight over her head at the sound of chatter in the room. Though try as she might, she couldn't seem to block out the excited squealing of her one year old son. A moment later, a light tug came on her blanket and she pulled back, refusing to give in. The tug came again, once, then twice, and she still held her ground. Finally a toddler's laugh broke through her exterior, and she couldn't help but smile. She pushed the covers back and sat up, running her good hand through her hair.
In front of her stood a 5'4'' blond with wavy hair, dressed in a striped tank top and jean shorts. She was Neveah's mom-one of the kids she helped to care for at the church day care, but Amy knew her better as Spencer. She was only 19, and the only teen mom Amy knew. She supposed if she had switched schools and gone to 'slut school' that she'd probably know more people in her current situation, but she had never wanted to go to that school to begin with.
"The doctors said today was the first day you were allowed visitors from outside the school," she explained softly.
Amy nodded, running fingers through her hair again. "Yeah. Since we're sharing a room, we didn't really have anyone coming to visit." She looked up at Ricky, smiling at the fact that he was still asleep. The way he slept like a log sometimes made her laugh.
"Your mom said you were getting released today. I thought maybe we could grab breakfast and then take the kids to the park," Spencer suggested.
Amy gulped, chewing her bottom lip. "Um, I-I thought I would-"
"I think it'd be good for you to get out of here, Amy. You've been holed up here for a week." Anne's voice was loud, but gentle enough that it was clear to Amy that her mother wanted her to get out of the hospital.
She breathed a slightly annoyed sigh and then pushed herself off the bed. It was as she was doing that that she realized that she no longer felt the pull of an IV; only the slight stickiness of a small bandage covering the spot where the needle had been placed.
"Dr. Noth gave you an injection of pain meds before he removed the IV, so you should be set for a few hours. He also wrote a script for pain, which I took down to the pharmacy earlier. It should be filled by the time you get back," Anne finished as she handed Amy a pair of clothes. Amy walked into the bathroom, Ashley following in behind her.
A few minutes later, they stepped back out; Amy holding her sling in her good hand. Her father helped her to put it back on correctly while people shuffled in and out of the room. Ricky was only starting to wake up again, and Amy could tell that he was at least a week away from being able to go home.
She walked over to him once her father was done adjusting the strap of the sling on her shoulder, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. Ricky turned his head slowly, brushing his lips against hers wearily. Taking the invitation, Amy attempted to kiss him for real, but it was short lived, as Ricky began to breathe harder. He gently pushed her back, shaking his head.
"Can't…breathe well enough," he stammered.
Amy chewed lightly on her bottom lip and stepped back. Ricky grabbed her hand, squeezing it lightly in attempt to tell her that he still cared. He was sure she felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
Still, Amy pulled her hand away and walked away, exiting the room with Spencer, Neveah, and John…
I love you more than I did before
And if today I don't see your face
Nothing's changed, No one can take your place
It gets harder every day
The room blurred around Ricky as he focused on the TV. The whole morning, people had been running in and out, and he'd barely gotten enough sleep the night before to begin with. He looked slowly around, struggling to keep his eyes open until he finally settled on the person in front of him.
"What're you doing here," he whispered gruffly.
Nora Underwood stood before him clinging tightly to the purse she held in her hands. "I-I saw the news. I wanted to come the first day, but I wasn't sure how your par- how your guardians would feel."
Ricky sat up, shifting in his bed. "Oh." He tried to think of something better to say, but the fog in his brain was still so thick that he didn't really know what to say.
"How're you feeling," she asked softly.
Ricky shrugged, leaning back as the bed rose into a seated position. "Tired. Sore." He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing the sheer exhaustion he felt would just go away, but it was futile. He looked up at her again a moment later. Clearly she wanted more than what he was saying.
"I keep having this nightmare." He whispered. He rolled his head to face her, looking down at the floor. "I keep having this nightmare, b-but it's not a nightmare." He looked up at her, trying to swallow the knot in his throat. "I keep dreaming about trying to crawl down a hall with only one good arm and leg, while there's a bullet stuck in my neck. I keep thinking that if I wake up, it'll end, but it doesn't. I wake up a-and I realize that it's real, and then doctors are telling me I died. That I died in the ambulance, and that I'm all over the newspapers and magazines and TV and the hospital won't let us watch because our parents don't want us to know, and Amy's got friends who are dead and, and I ramble when I'm scared, and I'm terrified because I almost died and Bob almost killed me, and he's still out there somewhere, and, and I can't, I…" His voice trailed off. Somewhere inside of him, something snapped because tears spilled over for the first time.
Norah didn't move. She stood in front of him with her hands shaking. "I…"
"I learned," Ricky continued. "I, I learned how to live without parents. How to survive without having someone there to solve all my problems. I raised myself, and I got old enough to be on my own, and I thought it'd be okay, but he comes back into my life. Bob, he comes back into my life, and he shoots me and tells me he wants me dead, and two years ago, that would've been fine, but now, now I have a son, and he's learning how to speak, and he's saying things like 'mama' and 'daddy', and he's crawling, and he's trying to walk and…and I could've missed out on everything."
Norah still stood there, frozen in fear.
Margaret had stood in the doorway, watching the two of them talk. She's agreed to let Norah see Ricky, only because if she were on the other end of all of this, she'd have wanted the same courtesy. However, watching this was something that was beyond her grasp. This boy she'd raised over the last five years truly had become her son. Month after month and year after year, dozens of children came in and out of her home. Some were adopted by other families; others were sent to other foster homes. But when it came down to it, Ricky had never left. He'd stayed, and they made it work. Somewhere in the middle of it all, he stopped being her foster son, and just became her son. Sure, they never adopted him, but it had nothing to do with how much she and Shakur cared about him. It had nothing to do with that. It was the fact that when it came down to it, she didn't need a piece of paper to tell her who her son was.
She stepped away from the doorway and walked into the room, pushing past Norah. She gripped her son's hand, shaking her head. "You're alive. And you're going to see your son through everything he ever wants to do in this life. He's going to be happy, and you're going to see him get everything you weren't afforded. And that will make you happy."
Ricky stared at her, as if he had to consider what she was saying, or actually form an excuse. He tried, however came out with nothing. "But…"
Margaret shook her head, wiping away the tears on his face. "You hide too much. He's never going to get near you again, but you've got to choose to live. Right here, and right now."
He stared at her clearly. She was right. He ran right into the option of giving up every time it came around, because somewhere deep inside, hidden under all the anger and hate and resentment that he held for so many people that failed him for 12 straight years, he was willing to give in; not because he didn't love his son. Not because he didn't love Amy. Because he was terrified that he would become his father, and hurt his son in the ways that his own father had hurt him. Or worse, that Bob would find a way to get John and hurt him the ways he had hurt Ricky. "Yeah…"
I gave and gave the best of me
But couldn't give you what you need
Amy swallowed hard, staring at the massive crowd in front of her. In her head, she was screaming to understand why all these kids weren't in school, even though she knew that it was because they had been students at her school too. She felt like she was on the outside looking in. People were dead. She had survived. Somehow, this all made sense, and yet didn't make any sense at all. There was such as sense of reverse psychology, she wasn't sure how to piece it all together.
Sierra had wanted to take a drive through the park; she'd had no idea that there were actually hundreds of students gathered there, talking. Trying to make sense of everything.
And yet, even though Amy had spent the last week in the hospital with Ricky, she felt like she belonged there. At least a dozen people had run up to her since she'd gotten there five minutes earlier, asking how Ricky was, or how her sister was doing. Everyone wanted to know what really happened in that band room. In her own way, she wondered what the rest of the school looked like. Four kids and Bob had banded together to take lives, and kids had died. Kids.
"AMY!" She jumped, probably for the fifth time. She turned around to find the screaming voice, only to be nearly ambushed. A flurry of scarlet hair flew past her face. She gulped, hugging the girl back. Madison.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed. It might've been seconds, or minutes, but when Madison finally let go, it still felt like not enough time had passed. For over a week, she'd been left wondering if her bubbly best friend was okay, or even still alive.
"Why didn't you come to he hospital," Amy cried.
"I wanted to," Madison explained. "My dad took me and my step mom out of town though. He said he didn't want us to be forced to deal with all the stuff on the news."
Even though Amy hadn't seen the news either in the last week, she understood what Madison meant. Everyone she'd talked to in the last week had told her that she and Ricky were all over the news.
"Then we got back, and your parents said that visiting was limited to family," Madison finished.
Amy shook her head slightly. She must've missed some of what Madison told her. Had she said anything about Lauren? Did she know anything about their other best friend?
"What about Lauren," she asked in a rushed manner.
Madison shrugged. "She got hurt. That's all I know. I've tried calling her mom and her brother, but neither of them called me back."
Amy suddenly slapped herself in the head. "I'm so stupid! Her dad's been to the hospital 3 times in the last week to visit Ricky. I should've asked."
Madison shrugged. "Don't beat yourself up. It's been a long week for everyone."
Amy nodded. It was Friday again. The shooting had taken place one week ago.
"Do you know when school starts again," she asked Madison, changing the subject.
Madison shrugged again, wrapping her arm in Amy's. Madison pulled her over to an empty bench and sat down. Amy looked behind her, seeing Sierra talking to a few kids she must've known when she was in school at Grant High School. She couldn't help but grimace as John was trying to crawl across the grass over to her. She stood and walked over to her son, lifting him into her arms. She walked back over to Madison, sitting down on the bench.
"I'm not sure," Madison finally answered her. She was scrolling through numbers on her phone as she spoke. "Last I heard, the plan was like two or three weeks off so that funerals can be had and people can have some time to grieve before getting back into the swing of things."
"And we're sharing with Van Nuys," Amy asked.
"As far as I know," Madison mumbled as she typed up a text. She spoke slowly, trying to form two separate thoughts as she typed at the same time. "I was told, it'll be a block schedule. Every other day, they'll go to school from eight until noon, and on the alternating days they'll be in school from eight until eleven. We'll be in school from one to four every other day, and on their alternating days, we'll be in school from twelve to four."
"So seven classes a day for the teachers, but three or four for students, depending on the day," Amy surmised. Madison only nodded in response.
"Baba," John whined, signaling that he was hungry.
"Okay," Amy gave in. She turned to Madison once more. "I'll call you later if I hear anything about Lauren."
"And I'll call you if I hear anything," Madison murmured before standing and walking away. Amy shifted John to her good side and then stood, walking over to Sierra. She waited patiently while Sierra finished up a conversation and then took Neveah back from one of the girls standing in the circle she was in. She said goodbyes to several people and then walked back to her car with Amy. She settled Neveah in her carseat and then helped Amy to buckle John in before they both got into the front seat.
"Lunch," Sierra asked as she started the car and put it into drive.
"Yeah," Amy sighed.
Let me tell you something darlin,
I've got a story for you now
About how I don't need you to rescue me
But one day you be wishing I stuck around
Amy crashed against the empty space on Ricky's bed, yawning. She hadn't done much other than watch John run and play, but her body was physically exhausted. She was sure that might have something to do with the fact that she'd just taken pain medication, but she didn't really care.
Ricky hobbled back to the bed and she groaned, moving over so that he could have adequate space to lie down. She snaked under his arm, burying her face in his shoulder wearily. He ran his hand lazily up and down her lower back, doing his best to comfort her.
"Love you," Amy mumbled wearily as she looked up at him.
"Love you too," Ricky murmured back at her.
Amy turned her face back into his shoulder, hoping to get some rest before her parents would be back and probably make her move to her own bed. Her hopes were dashed as the door opened. Ricky turned his head away from hers.
"Hey," he tried speak more clearly, but his voice was still gruff.
Adrian only waved as she walked over to the bed. She touched his hand lightly before he turned it to the best of his ability and attempted to squeeze it.
"We've all been itching for an update since we heard you were awake, but your parents said one visitor a day. Everyone volunteered me," she explained quietly as she sat down in the chair next to the bed.
Ricky nodded. "Things have been pretty intense lately. I think we're just trying to take things day by day."
"I thought so," Adrian agreed. "So how are you otherwise?"
Ricky tipped his head toward his shoulder, an attempt to shrug. "A mess. I keep thinking about the last time he did something."
Adrian nodded. The only people who knew about it were sitting in that room, and they all knew that none of them were going to mention it…
His hands shook as he knocked on Adrian's door. How would he explain this to her? He hadn't know what to do; he just wanted Bob gone. If this was the way to do it - the most obvious way he could think of, then it must be okay, right?
It had to be. He didn't have choice.
"I've been calling you!" She exclaimed as she pulled the door open.
"I know," he contested. "I had a visitor."
"Did you check your messages," she asked quickly.
Ricky shook his head quickly. "No."
"You didn't check your messages?" She almost yelled, but it was more out of the fact that this felt absolutely absurd than anything else. This was the most important news anyone could give him and he wasn't going to receive it?
"No," he said again.
"They got him. Your father, he's been arrested," she explained proudly.
"For," he questioned, praying silently that she didn't know.
"Possession of drugs," she rambled, tears burning in her eyes. "Jack saw him buying drugs, he called me, I called my dad…They got him."
He brought his fist to face, covering his mouth. He didn't know what to feel. Panic? Relief? Terrified? Like he'd just gone backwards about a thousand steps in recovery? Was there a right emotion to feel?
"I have to tell you something," he whimpered raspily.
Adrian's smile fell slightly and she opened the door a bit wider to let him in. Ricky walked past her and over to the kitchenette, leaning against the counter, facing away from her.
"I…" He shook his head. "Your dad, Dr. Bowman; they were with m-me. They caught Bob with m-me."
Adrian swallowed hard, feeling like she'd just been kicked in the throat. "What," she whispered loudly. "Ricky…"
He shook his head again. "Don't. Don't sympathize with me. I just…I called Amy when they took him in. And then I came here…"
"That wasn't your fault, Ricky," Adrian tried to comfort him.
"I know," he nodded, looking over at her. Tears glistened over his eyes, making them shine. "I do know that, now. I'm never going to be able to stop him when he comes around. He just…" He shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek. "He'll never stop. And it doesn't matter how hard I try to fight him; he's always got an alterior motive."
"It'll be okay," Adrian whispered. Her voice came a bit harsher than a few moments before, like she was trying to not cry. "It'll be okay."
He wasn't sure Amy was still awake, but he assumed she could hear them, because she tightened her grip around him and buried her head further in his shoulder. Sure, it made his pain rise, but it was a pain he would welcome. Keeping his girlfriend and son safe were his priorities now. He would make that work somehow.
"Tell me something useful," Ricky murmured a moment later, looking back up at Adrian.
She bit the side of her lip, looking down at Amy. "I um…I talked to my dad today."
Ricky nodded. "About what?"
"They have a full list of everyone who died," she exclaimed. "And um…" She looked at Amy, and then back up at Ricky.
"What," he questioned softly. "Who is it?"
Adrian sucked in a deep breath, and then let it out, unable to tell him. So she tried again, and it slipped past her anyway. Once more, she took in a breath and looked up at him. "Her friend Lauren is on it," she spoke breathily.
Ricky gulped. His girlfriend had lost a best friend. Someone he looked to as a father figure, had lost his daughter. He didn't know where to turn.
