Not Letting You Go

Chapter 3

Alan and Margaret had just watched their oldest walk out the entrance of the hospital. Loss, shock and despair had visibly shown on his face as he had brushed past them just moments before; not only from the events that had taken place at the house, his discovery of the note, but also from the seemingly unbearable pain of his mothers actions. Her lashing out at him, not only verbally, but physically as well, had pushed him over the edge.

In the instant the exit doors closed on their eldest son, the doors behind them, that they had been anxiously waiting to open, soundlessly did.

"Family of Charlie Eppes"

The distraught couple turned as one as a very weary looking doctor approached them, "Mr. and Mrs. Eppes?" He held out his hand to shake Alan's, "I'm Dr. McDonald. Could you please follow me?" They exchanged fearful glances, terrified as to what the doctor might be getting ready to tell them.

Dr. McDonald led them to a small room and closed the door, "Please have a seat." He took the chair across from the couch, where Margaret and Alan chose to sit.

"Please tell me my baby is alright?" Margaret pleaded as Alan kept his arm around her shoulder.

The doctor unconsciously released a tired sigh, "At the moment he is still alive." Relief flashed in the faces of the parents across from him. "But…" That one word was all it took to take the relief away again, "He's in a coma."

A quiet cry escaped Margaret as Alan looked at the doctor. "Will he be okay?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Eppes, I won't lie to you. We really are not sure. The amount of the depressant in his system is extremely high, even though he was discovered within minutes of its ingestion. This particular drug has what is known as a rapid release coating. It releases a higher dose of the medication, in this case sleeping pills, then the slower release medication is under that coating. We were able to pump his stomach, but from what we could tell he ingested about 25 of the pills and it appears that the outer coating on most of them had already dissolved away. That is why the reaction time was so immediate. With his small stature it just took those few moments to take effect."

He watched closely the parents across from him. He had dealt with parents of suicide-attempt victims before, but never with a patient this young. However the expressions were always the same-disbelief. "We're currently flushing his system to try and remove the drug as quickly as possible, but it will still take as long as a couple of days before we know anymore as to his prognosis. I was informed by the paramedics that he was non-responsive and not breathing at the scene, but that CPR was being performed. For what it's worth, the reason I'm bring this up is that yes, his heart also stopped here in the ER-- mostly from the depressed body functions the drug causes-- but if he had not been able to be revived at the scene, we would be having a totally different conversation. If I may ask, who was the one who started the CPR so quickly?"

"Donnie", Alan answered quietly. "That was Donnie, our other son. He was a life-guard last summer and took the course at the Red Cross. Donnie knew what to do."

Realization dawned on both Margaret and Alan at the same time as they heard the doctor praise Donnie's actions at the house. "Well it was definitely very smart and quick thinking on his part. He is most likely the very reason your youngest son has been able to make it this far."

Margaret gasped looking at Alan, "What have I done?…….God Alan, I blamed him……and if it wasn't…."

What little composure she had broke and Alan took her in his arms. "You were upset…..you weren't thinking clearly…..he'll understand." He held her tight as she cried, looking across to the doctor again. "Can we see Charlie?"

"We'll be moving him up to the ICU soon. He's on a ventilator for now. Until the drug can be worked out of his system, he is unable to breathe effectively on his own. This should improve; however,

until then he will be able to be closely monitored in that unit. You can come back for just a minute before he goes up. We are trying to make special arrangements that will allow you to stay with him upstairs."

Alan nodded gratefully, pulling Margaret up with him as they rose from the couch, then stepped out the door the doctor was holding open for them. Then they quietly followed the doctor through the trauma room doors, finally being allowed to see their baby boy.

They walked into the curtained area of Trauma Room 2 and were first assaulted by the mechanical whooshing of the ventilator pushing air in and out of Charlie's chest. "Oh God, Charlie!" Margaret broke away from Alan and rushed forward, placing her hand on his dark mop of curls. She pressed her forehead to his whispering, "Oh baby why?"

Alan looked at all the equipment that was keeping his son alive. Tubes and wires were coming and going from him; it was surreal to look at. He stepped next to Margaret, placing his hand on her back, just staring at his son. A minute was really all they were allowed and a nurse soon approached them, "We're moving him upstairs now. The ICU is on the fourth floor. You'll be able to see him again in about an hour."

"Please can I go up with him, please?" Margaret pleaded with the nurse, who glanced at the doctor.

A slight nod was given. "All right, but once we're up there you can't come into the room until he's settled." Margaret nodded, not taking her eyes off Charlie.

"I'm going to find Donnie," Alan leaned in toward Margaret and whispered. He then took one of his son's small hands into his own, holding it ever-so-gently, He brought it to his lips and kissed the palm saying, "Don't give up son, we love you too much." Leaning in Alan kissed Charlie's forehead and stepped back and watched as Charlie was pushed from the room, Margaret right beside the bed trying to keep a hold on his hand. Alan watched as they disappeared into the elevator, then turned, heading for the front exit to find Donnie.

As the doors closed behind him Donnie felt that his world was shattering around him. He had walked into his brother's room hoping to find out what had been bothering him, only to find him in the middle of what he now knew was a full-on suicide attempt. Reading the note had taken his breath from him. Then the code being called, his mother's anguished cry, then her anger. He had never known his mother to sound or look so angry, and to direct that anger at him. Somewhere in the rational part of his brain he knew she was scared. Reading that note, her fear had turned into misguided anger and she had lashed out at the first convenient target. When he had read the note himself, he had known that what Charlie had done was his fault. He was sure he had been pushing his brother away and without actually saying it, had made Charlie feel that he didn't want him around. He somehow felt his mother was justified in her anger, but that didn't make it any easier.

As he stood for a second he allowed the cool air to hit his face as the tears fell. The sting of his mother's hand was forever embedded into his soul. It would be a constant reminder of how terrible a brother, how terrible a son he had been. Without a backwards glance, he began to run. The hospital's parking lot was huge and as he ran he saw a cluster of trees near the back edge. This is where he headed, and as he reached the first tree he angrily slammed his hands against it, allowing a near primal growl to escape from his throat. Turning, he let himself slide down the side of the tree, pulling his knees to his chest. He wanted nothing more than to curl into so tight of a ball that he may well disappear in on himself. Laying his head on his knees, he cried. He was so sure that his brother was dead. The last he had seen of his brother was the arching of his body up off the exam table as they were sending another shock to his heart. After that no one had come out to tell them anything.

He cried for the loss of his brother, whom he loved more than anything. He understand now that he had never let the kid know it, so he had let him die thinking his own brother hadn't loved him. He cried for the pain and anger in his mother's accusing words; words that he felt were justified. Mostly he cried for himself, not knowing how he would or could possibly go on living without his little brother in his life.

This is how Alan found him. He had come out the doors needing nothing more than to find Donnie. He knew his son was scared, upset and confused, and his only desire at the moment as a father was to find and comfort his hurting son. Looking around the expanse of the parking lot he didn't immediately see Donnie, but as he searched farther he noticed the cluster of trees at the back of the lot. Alan instinctively knew that would be where he would find him. Since Donnie had been a small boy, when he would become upset or scared, he would hide. Usually it was in the tree in the backyard. As he headed toward the trees, he remembered a time when he had found a very scared and upset four-year-old Donnie under the hydrangea bush in the back yard. Donnie had been scared because his mother, pregnant with Charlie at the time, had been rushed to the hospital after some abnormal bleeding.

Alan stopped and stared at the sight before him. His heart broke to see his son, whom he had lately been trying so hard to see as the young man he was becoming, curled in onto himself never looking more like a scared, lost child. Alan quietly approached his son and sat down next to him. Without a word he put his arm around Donnie's shoulders and pulled him close. To his surprise there was no resistance. Instead he felt his son lean heavily onto him, and snake his shaking arms around Alan's waist.

They sat like that for a while until Donnie spoke, his voice heavy with emotion. "He's dead isn't he?"

Alan kissed the top of his son's head. "No, Donnie, he's not."

He felt Donnie pull back some to look into his father's eyes. "He's not?" Donnie couldn't believe his ears. Was it really true that his little brother hadn't been taken from him?

"Donnie," Alan's tone became serious and his voice as clear as he could get it, "He's in a coma. They don't know when he will wake."

"Dad……I'm sorry…..this is all my fault." Donnie couldn't look at his father.

"How do you figure that?" Alan was trying to read his son's face, trying to see where this was coming from.

"I pushed him away. I may not have said what he wrote, but I probably did make him feel that way…I didn't mean to." The words had come out in such a pain filled voice.

Alan watched as his son stared across the parking lot back toward the hospital. "Donnie, I can't begin to explain what Charlie might have been feeling or how he views things. None of us can do that. However, I'll tell you now, this is not your fault. If anyone is to blame, it is your mother and I. Maybe we have pushed him, maybe we have missed how pressured he was really feeling. Believe me, son; in no way do I see any of this as your fault."

"But mom does," Donnie whispered out.

"Donnie, look at me," When Donnie didn't lift his face to his father's, Alan reached and gently did it for him. "Your mother doesn't blame you. She is scared, she is confused. Just like me and you, she can't figure out how this happened. She took the writing in that notebook, by your very scared and confused, brother and somehow believed for a moment that she had found an outlet for her own fear and confusion. She wasn't thinking clearly. Donnie, your mother loves you! She doesn't blame you. Nothing justifies what happened or what she did, but please understand it was irrational fear that caused it and in no way was it what is in her heart. She loves you Donnie-remember that."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Finally Donnie broke the quiet. "Can I see Charlie?"

"They were taking him up to the ICU. He's on a ventilator, and they will be able to watch him more closely there. They said once he's settled we can stay with him."

"I want to go see him." Donnie stood and offered a hand to his father.

Once standing Alan took his son into his arms. Holding him close, he whispered, "Donnie, there's something very important you need to know." Donnie tried to pull back, but Alan just held him tighter. "You're the reason he's alive right now."

Confusion passed over his face as he looked at his father, "What?…..How?"

"The CPR. You started it right away, and you kept everything going for him until help arrived. The doctor said that if you hadn't done that he wouldn't have made it this far." Alan turned his head to kiss Donnie on the cheek before he spoke quietly into his ear. "I love you son….and thank you." Donnie didn't know how to respond other than to bury his face into his father's shoulder and squeeze tighter. "Let's go see your brother," Alan said as they parted, keeping his hand on his son's back as they started back toward the hospital.

A/N: sorry for the slight delay on posting, I developed a sinus infection that knocked me around about like the flu does. I've been a little slow getting my work to my wonderful Beta-FraidyCat, but I have been working on the rest of the story and hope to have another chapter up soon. Thanks for your patients and reviews- they make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.