The elevator doors to the 56th floor lobby opened and Jake pushed out and turned left towards the door of his and Emily's apartment. It was just after five and Jake was back from the gym, thinking about the written assignment he needed to finish this evening. It was the last assignment of this term and would have to be submitted before midnight. Emily would only be home around six. He noticed a young uniformed police officer walking back from the end of the hallway towards him. He nodded at the officer and was about to push past him, when the man raised a hand and bade Jake halt. "Are you Jake Sully?"
"Yes. How can I help you officer?"
"Can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Sure. What is this about?"
"Could we please go into your apartment?"
Something about the way the officer carried himself made Jake uneasy. "Follow me." He unlocked the door on the keypad and let himself and the officer inside. "Have a seat please." He pointed towards the sofa. The officer sat and looked at Jake who took up position on the other side of the low stone and glass lounge table and looked at the officer expectantly.
The officer cleared his throat. "Are you Emily Sully's husband?"
Jake's chest tightened. "Yes."
The man took off his cap and turned it over in hands. Then he said, "Sir, I am very sorry to tell you that your wife was killed in a car accident earlier today."
He stared at the police officer in shock for a full minute while he let the words seep into his consciousness. Then he leaned forward in slow motion until his elbows came to rest on his knees and put his face in his hands. He stifled some sobs.
The officer continued the embarrassed fidgeting with his cap. "Can I call someone for you, Sir? Maybe you shouldn't be alone right now."
Jake shook his head. Almost imperceptibly he said. "Please leave now. I'll get in touch with you tomorrow."
"Are you sure?"
"Leave!" Jake roared.
The officer got up and left.
Jake left himself fall forward out of the wheelchair. He lay on the carpet in a fetal position and cried. He sobbed uncontrollably, his left fist pressed against his mouth, his right hand wandering over the carpet until his fingers touched the edge of the marble table leg. He grabbed onto the stone and pulled himself closer. Now he was lying flat on his stomach so he turned himself onto his left facing the cold white stone. He started punching it. While tears continued to blur his vision he watched the marble turn red, smeared with trails of his blood. His knuckles were raw, but the pain wasn't enough to dull the pain inside of him. He swung his arm with all his strength and smashed his fist into the flat of the stone. At least one metacarpal shattered. He hit it again. This time an excruciating physical pain overwhelmed him and he pulled his fractured right hand into his chest and held it with the other. He cried for a long time for Emily and for the part of himself that had just died with her.
Eventually the flow of the tears lessened and Jake rolled onto his back. His broken hand was shaking. The phone rang in the pocket of his sweater jacket, but Jake ignored it. He rolled over onto his stomach and pulled himself forward on his elbows until he reached the half open bedroom door. He pushed it open and at the sight of Emily's T-shirt lying next to his side of the bed, he was ambushed by another surge of despair. He pulled himself further until he could grab the shirt with his good hand and pulled it towards his face. He inhaled her smell and fresh tears shot into his eyes.
After a while he moved again, pulling himself forward until he was close enough to reach for the drawer in his nightstand. He yanked the drawer out and pills, vials, needles, syringes, swabs and all the other paraphernalia rained on the floor around him. The phone rang again. Jake rolled onto his side and pushed himself up into a seated position, leaning against his bed. He pulled off his jacket. The phone kept ringing. He pulled it out of the pocket and threw it against the wall. The battery cover dislodged and the battery came out. The phone went silent.
Jake found the rubber tourniquet and slipped it over his broken hand and onto his right biceps. He groped around the floor until he found the vial of morphine. He picked up a syringe and a needle tearing at the sterile packaging with his teeth. He stuck the needle into the vial and attached the syringe, then held the vial upside down between his teeth to draw out the drug. His right hand was shaking so badly that the movement traveled up his arm and it took Jake multiple attempts to find the vein at his right elbow. When he finally drew blood into the syringe, he shot the plunger into the syringe with force and himself into oblivion.
JJ was sitting at his desk in his office reading through some case work. He checked the time. It was a quarter to six. He had another half an hour before he would go over to the gym to play his weekly round of squash with one of his fellow lawyers. He picked another file off a stack when his personal cell phone rang. The number on the screen looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it. He answered it voice only.
"Major John Sharpe."
"John, this is Franklin, Emily's dad."
The tone of Franklin's voice made JJ sit up. "What's wrong Franklin?"
For a moment there was just static on the line and then Franklin said heavily, "Emily is dead. She was killed in a freak car accident around lunchtime today. A delivery truck plowed through the median and hit her and a colleague of hers straight on, they both died at the scene."
"Oh, my god Franklin, I am so sorry." JJ's thoughts were racing. "Have you spoken to Jake?"
"No, that's why I'm calling you. I've been trying to call him for the last twenty minutes flat, but he's not picking up. It rings and then always goes to voice mail."
JJ picked up a slight note of panic in Franklin's voice. "Maybe he's still at the gym?" JJ volunteered.
"Yes, maybe, but John I have the feeling that the boy is going to do something seriously stupid. As far as I know the police sent someone to notify him as well."
JJ's mind was racing. "Okay, Franklin, you hang tight or if you want you are welcome to come over to my house."
"Yes, thanks John. I would like to do that." His voice was horse and full of pain now.
"Okay, I'll let my wife know to expect you. Let me go find Jake, I'll bring him back with me."
"Thanks, John. I knew I can count on you, I'll be there in about two hours or so."
JJ got up and tried to collect his thoughts. He dialed Jake's number. It rang and then went to voice mail. He didn't leave a message. Next he called Nora. Walking to his truck he explained the situation to her and told her to expect Franklin and Jake to stay at their house for the night. He rang off and started the car, but he wasn't sure where to go. Straight to Jake's apartment or to the gym that Jake went to first? What if he wasn't at any of these places? Should he try to locate the police officer tasked to deliver the news to Jake? No that would be a waste of time.
Police however triggered another thought. He drove over to the military police post on the base. He knew several of the officers and this was as good a time as any to call in a favor. He was lucky. Hal Shipman whom he had known for several years was the sergeant on duty. He grinned at JJ, but his face dropped when he saw the grim expressions on the lawyer's face.
"Hi Hal, I need you to do something for me."
"Sure Major, what's up?"
"Do you remember Jake Sully?"
"Oh, you mean the Marine that came back from Venezuela in a wheelchair? He's a friend of yours, isn't he? Yeah, I remember him. Nice kid."
"His wife died in a car accident today. I'm worried sick 'cause no one can get hold of him. Can you please triangulate the position of his cell phone for me." He gave Hal the number who punched it into the terminal in front of him.
"It's in an apartment block at 5567 Santa Carolina Blvd. I can even give you the elevation. Somewhere between the 50th and 60th floor."
"Jake's apartment—so there's a good chance that he's at home. Thanks a lot Hal." He turned to leave, stopped. "Oh and maybe you could put an ear out with your buddies at the SDPD about some more info on the accident. Her name was Emily Sully."
"Sure thing. And give my condolences to the kid. No one deserves a fate like this. First he's left paralyzed and now his wife dies? How is he going to carry on?"
"That's what I'm worried about Hal."
JJ ran back to his truck and started the engine. It occurred to him that he wasn't allowed to drive into the downtown area with his truck. He switched it off again and ran back into the police station.
"Hal, I know I'm pushing my luck here, but I can't drive into downtown with my truck. I'll get pulled over and time is a bit of a problem right now. Do you think I could take one of the MP cruisers?"
"I can't give you the car on its own, but I'll get an officer to drive you."
"Hal, you're a star."
"Yeah, thank me when you let me know that the kid's still alive."
Driving in a military police cruiser with lights and sirens had the added advantage that they made the trip to Santa Carolina Blvd in about half the normal rush hour time and that they didn't have to worry about parking neither.
During the drive JJ was restless. He tried to call Jake several times, and the last time, just as they turned into Santa Carolina, two blocks up from where they needed to go, the phone had rung and then changed to the unavailable message. JJ hoped that it was a good sign; that Jake had switched the phone off and that it wasn't just the battery running flat.
They pulled up on the curb outside the block and ran inside. JJ shouted to the officer. "Take your medical kit just in case."
The officer ran back to the cruiser and got the case out of the trunk. JJ held the elevator. On the 56th floor the elevator doors opened and JJ ran out towards Jake's apartment. The officer jogged after him. Arriving at the door, JJ hammered at it with his fist. "Jake, for fuck's sake, open the door." When he got no reply, JJ punched the door code Jake had given him into the keypad. The lock clicked open. They pushed through the door and the first thing that JJ saw was the empty wheelchair in the lounge and second the blood on the table leg. He pointed and the officer walked to the table for a closer look.
JJ turned around frantically. "Jake!" Then he saw him. Half hidden from view by the bedroom door Jake was slumped over next to the bed. JJ ran into the bedroom. "Oxygen." He shouted at the officer before he had even felt for a pulse. He felt for Jake's carotid with one hand while he yanked the needle out of Jake's arm and slipped the tourniquet off with the other. Relief flooded through him when he finally felt a faint pulse under his fingers."
The officer was already holding the oxygen mask ready. JJ pulled Jake flat onto the floor and put the mask over his mouth and nose. His breathing was shallow and his lips were blue. JJ made sure the mask created a tight seal. He lifted Jake's eyelids, the pupils were like pinpoints, and when the officer shone his torch into Jake's eyes over JJ's shoulder they didn't react.
"What do you think, Major Sharpe, chopper?"
"Yeah, I'll find a way to authorize that somehow."
While the officer spoke into his com unit requesting a medical helicopter to land on the roof of the apartment building, JJ picked up the vial of morphine and the syringe and put it into his pocket. He got up and lifted Jake onto the bed first then he put him over his shoulder.
"ETA 3 minutes" the officer informed him.
"Good. Let's go."
They left the apartment, JJ raced back to the elevator. It was still on the floor. The officer punched in an emergency services override code to enable direct access to the roof. The elevator accelerated and in less than two minutes they stood ready waiting for the helicopter. They heard it before they saw it approach. Even before it was all the way on the ground a medic had already jumped out, crossed over to JJ and taken Jake from him. While the medic strapped Jake onto the gurney, JJ turned around to the officer. "Thanks a lot. I'm sorry, but I didn't even ask your name."
"Michael, Sergeant Michael Vartain."
"Thanks. For everything."
"Just let me know what happens, Major, will you?" Then he saluted and disappeared back into the building.
JJ got into the helicopter and put on a spare headset. The medic had taken off the oxygen mask and intubated Jake then reconnected the oxygen supply. He slipped an IV needle into Jake's left hand.
"Tell me what you know." The doctor requested over the comm.
"Twenty nine year old male, faint pulse, no pupil reaction. Intravenous injection of an unknown amount of medical grade morphine. Also he's paraplegic—complete L1."
"Habitual drug user?"
"No, he's clean."
"Explains how he has access to morphine. It's not like that's readily available. Not even on the black market." The medic was busy examining the puncture marks on the inside of Jake's elbow and then his hand.
"Pretty bad fracture. I wonder how that happened. Was he in a fight before he knocked himself out on the drugs? Could be an accidental overdose following the injury to his hand."
JJ was about to elaborate on his theory that Jake had broken his hand deliberately, but then it occurred to him that there would have to be an official report and with it the inevitable squabble with the insurance. "Yes quite possible that he got into a fight. He mentioned a few times lately that he was being harassed because of his disability."
When they arrived at the medical center and Jake was whisked away into emergency, JJ found a quiet spot and called Nora.
"Hi Nora, is Franklin there yet?"
"No, he hasn't arrived, yet. But I've taken Tyler over to Mom's."
"Okay. Good. I'll just quickly give you the gist of it. I'll answer questions when I get home. I found Jake unconscious in his apartment. We are now at San Diego County Memorial. He's alive and he'll make it. I'm not sure how long he's going to be here, but I doubt they will discharge him tonight still. I'm going to stay here until I can talk to him. Any significant changes and I'll call you back, ok?"
"Okay."
He closed the feed and walked back into the emergency area. He found Jake, still unconscious but no longer intubated and an ER doctor busy looking at an image of Jake's hand on a large display. "What do you think?"
The doctor turned and looked at JJ. His eyes lingered for a moment on the various ribbons on the chest of JJ's uniform. "Are you a friend or family?"
"Family. We're brothers."
The doctor raised an eyebrow.
JJ laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Different dads."
He had said it without premeditation, but he truly felt that Jake was his younger brother as much as any blood-relative would have been. He considered the fact that Jake and Tom were identical twins. No, it wasn't about the genes. If he didn't stand up for Jake now, nobody would.
"He's stable, I've administered Naloxone and he's no longer comatose, but it will be a while before he comes around on his own. Now we're just monitoring his vitals. The hand is not as bad as it looks on the outside; two broken metacarpals. This one," he pointed to the one leading to the ring finger, "is a clean break. This one," the one connecting the middle finger, "is splintered, but there is enough substance to align the bones without surgery. He'll just have to have a cast for the next couple of weeks."
"Okay."
"I'm going to set the bone now and put the cast on. Afterward I'm going to inject him with a stimulant to wake him up. He's going to be in pain, but he shouldn't take any painkillers for about twenty four hours—possible adverse drug interaction." He shrugged. "Your brother looks like a tough guy. I'm sure he'll manage for a day, but I'll give you a prescription for oxycodone. He can take that starting tomorrow evening."
JJ felt that the doctor exuded as much empathy for his patient as a bar of soap. "Why are you waking him up then if he's stable and he will be in pain?"
"So you can I take him home; got no space here."
"Understand. That's fine then." It wasn't fine. Not on so many levels; like the public hospitals being hopelessly overburdened. But right now, JJ needed Jake out of here, away from the ever curious ears and eyes of the insurance adjusters looking for any and all reasons to decline benefits. Like, for example, purposefully self-inflicted injuries. Unfortunately Jake's veteran insurance was no different.
The doctor carried on. "Is your brother military, too? I couldn't get access to his medical record."
"Ex-Marine." JJ replied.
The doctor nodded. Then he pointed at Jake's legs. "Severe atrophy in both legs. Is he paralyzed?"
"Yes, complete L1."
"Is he right or left handed?" The doctor carried on.
"Right handed."
"He's going to need assistance while he can't use his hand. Do you want me to place an indwelling catheter?"
"No, let's see how well he copes, first."
"Okay, I'll get the nurse to cath him now. Then he should be fine until the morning."
"Yeah, no worries." JJ was worried, but he didn't let on. He would make a plan.
"Good. Then let's get to work. He'll be disoriented when I wake him up. You probably won't be able to get a straight word out of him until tomorrow morning or so."
"Oh, okay." JJ said, but what he thought was thank goodness.
After he had set the bones, the doctor disappeared to look after another patient. An ER nurse took over. She scanned Jake's hand and forearm and instructed the bedside fabricator to produce a molded cast. The machine indicated the remaining production time as eight minutes, so without a moment's hesitation and without saying a word the nurse began to catheterize Jake. She had finished the procedure by the time the cast was ready.
JJ couldn't help but think that the whole hospital process was one of extreme clinical efficiency, not a minute wasted, but at the same time completely devoid of any human emotion and compassion. He thought of the four and a half months Jake had spent in hospital the year before and hoped that it hadn't been anywhere near as cold and uncaring as this.
The cast came in two parts, an upper and a lower shell. The nurse took the bottom half and sprayed a thin layer of foam-like substance into it then she placed it under Jake's hand and arm. It had distinct grooves for each finger and extended all the way from the fingertips to the elbow and more than half over the thumb. It was shaped to allow for the natural bend of relaxed fingers and fit the contour of Jake's limb perfectly. Next she took the top shell and repeated the foam procedure. Then she glued the two halves together on Jake's arm. She turned to JJ who had been watching attentively. For the first time she spoke.
"This spray foam stuff is the best thing since sliced cheese. It pads the cast, encourages the blood flow, wicks excess moisture away from the skin and to some degree it even expands to take up the slack created by the reduction in swelling and any muscle atrophy. His swelling isn't too bad, but if you notice too much play after a week bring him back here to have the cast adjusted." Clinical. Impersonal.
"Sure."
As if timed to perfection the nurse left and the doctor reappeared. They nodded at each other in passing. The doctor injected Jake with the stimulant through the IV in his hand. Then he pulled out the needle. "I'll get you a wheelchair. Please move him as soon as possible. We need this bed for more serious cases." He turned on his heels and disappeared. Yet another nurse appeared with a harness she put on Jake that fixed his arm against his body and a wheelchair she left with JJ.
After a few minutes Jake groaned. He opened his eyes, but they were unfocused. He tried to roll onto his side, but his movements were uncoordinated. When he noticed the cast and his arm strapped to his chest, he looked down at it circumspectly then fell back. Only then did he notice JJ. He blinked and swallowed, but didn't say anything.
"Hey Jake. Let's get out of here."
JJ carried Jake straight downstairs into the den. Nora had already put out sheets and blankets. Jake was half conscious when JJ undressed him. He took off the harness, pulled off his shoes, socks and pants. Then he put him onto his side. Jake didn't resist.
JJ went back upstairs to speak to Franklin who had stayed up and waited for JJ and Jake's arrival. He walked up to Franklin who was sitting at the dining table. His eyes were red, but dry.
JJ put a hand on Franklin's shoulder. "Franklin, I'm incredibly sorry for your loss. I cannot begin to conceive what it must feel like to lose a child. But I know that Jake is taking it very badly and I'm concerned about him. He broke his hand deliberately and he tried to kill himself. I don't want to leave him alone, but we need to get his medications, some clothes and his wheelchair."
"No worries, John. I'll go and fetch it." Despite the grief that was clearly visible on Emily's dad's face, he was a practical man. "Just give me a list of things I have to fetch." After a brief silence, while JJ made a list of those things he knew Jake couldn't do without, Franklin said "You know the saying—the dead only die once, it's the living who die a hundred times. It gives me comfort John, it helps me carry on."
JJ looked up and nodded. He handed the list to Franklin. "Just have a look around. Bring whatever else you feel is necessary."
Franklin took the list and walked towards the door.
"And Franklin?"
"Yeah?"
"You might want to bring something personal of Emily's; something for Jake and something for yourself."
JJ went back downstairs. He pulled a spare mattress from a store room and put it against the wall across the room from Jake. There he lay and started his watch.
Jake woke up with a start. He was lying on his side, not on his stomach the way he normally slept. His right hand was throbbing painfully. He wasn't quite sure where he was at first but then in the pre-dawn twilight he recognized the shapes of the furniture in JJ's den. He was at JJ's house. Where was Emily?
Emily is dead.
A chill settled into his chest and spread through his body. He started to shake. With difficulty because he couldn't use his right hand he pushed himself up into a seated position and reclined against the backrest of the sofa, cradling the cast encasing his broken hand with the other arm. He was still shaking and apart from his hand he felt cold and numb.
He noticed JJ sitting on a mattress across the room, leaning against the wall behind him with his knees pulled up and looking at him.
"Emily is dead." Jake's voice was a hoarse whisper.
"I know Jake, and I am immensely sorry for your loss."
"I can't do it again."
"Yes you can and you will."
Jake didn't say anything for a while, then, "did you find me?"
"Yes."
"I wish you hadn't." Petulant.
"What the hell where you thinking?"
"I wasn't. I can't think about it. I never want to think about it again." Jake squeezed his eyes shut and his expression was drawn.
"And what about the others?"
"Which others?" Jake opened his eyes again.
"Franklin, Tom, me? Do you think it's fair to us if you kill yourself?"
"Fair?" Angry. "Life isn't fair! If life was fair Emily wouldn't be dead and I wouldn't be paralyzed! If you want fair you're on the wrong damn planet!"
"So you believe that because life isn't fair to you that makes it ok to heap some more unfairness on other people who care about you?"
"You said it."
They didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, just sat there looking at each other.
Jake held his broken hand away from his chest and regarded the cast. The lower half of the shell extended below the end of his fingertips, but the upper ended just behind his fingernails. He placed his good hand against the tips of his fingers and pushed. A stifled scream escaped his mouth and he fell over onto his side, his eyes watering.
JJ decided not to say anything at this point. Anything he said could make Jake hurt himself more. So he just resumed his vigil, ready to interfere should Jake try anything that put his life in danger. He thought back to their trip to Whistler and his thoughts about the big crash. It was here; and it was something so life shattering that it brought tears to JJ's eyes. Jake didn't deserve this. He had fought so hard to make himself whole again and despite all of JJ's reservations about their relationship, Emily had been the missing piece in the puzzle. Except for the physical disability, Jake had been his old self; strong-headed and courageous and never taking himself too seriously. JJ didn't try to suppress the tears. He cried for his brother, his best friend and the injustice of it all.
Jake lay on his side, his hand throbbing more than ever, but the tears had dried up. After a while he noticed that JJ was crying—and it touched him. More than any word could have conveyed, Jake suddenly understood what it meant to be loved unconditionally. It sparked a tiny flame of hope. Fluttering and weak, but the tiny little flame in Jake's soul was enough to keep him going for the moment. He rolled himself onto his back and just lay there. Sleep was eluding him and he saw visions of Emily. Her visit to Denver, their wedding, ordinary moments during ordinary days, their last dinner together, but they all faded one after the other. He couldn't hang on to them; the only though that remained was Emily is dead.
JJ woke up. It was light outside. He jerked upright looking towards Jake. Jake looked dreadful, his eyes bloodshot and with dark rings, but he was sitting up looking back at him. "Oh my god, Jake. Thank goodness."
"I need to go to the bathroom."
"Hang on. Let me get your stuff." JJ jumped up from his mattress. He ran upstairs, taking two steps at a time. In less than a minute he came back with Jake's wheelchair and a bag. He unfolded the chair and placed it in front of Jake.
Jake stretched out his left arm to hook around JJ's neck. JJ bent down and let him grab on.
"I'm tired of struggling."
"I know you are, just tell me what I need to do." He put the bag on Jake's lap.
Jake slowly pulled open the zipper. He saw clothes, medicines and catheters and tucked away on the side he saw something yellow and brown. He pulled it out. It was the little fluffy tiger that he'd given to Emily the week before their wedding. He pressed his face into the toy and new tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.
"I can't stay here JJ. Everything, everything reminds me of her."
"I understand, Jake. Just stay with me until your hand is healed and you can take care of yourself again."
"I should go to the VA hospital."
"We'll see how it goes. Okay? Right now you can't even drive your wheelchair let alone your truck. So you're not going anywhere. Come on let's get you sorted out." He pushed the grim-faced Jake into the bathroom.
Nora was on duty, but JJ had called his office and explained the situation. His colleagues had agreed to take care of the few legal proceedings he had scheduled for this week so that he had called his superior and asked for leave for the rest of the week. It had been granted.
When JJ brought Jake upstairs, Franklin had already been up and dressed, making arrangements for the funeral. Once he put the phone down he walked over to the dining table at which Jake sat stone faced. Over his T-shirt he was wearing the harness again that secured his broken hand against his chest. Franklin pulled up a chair next to Jake. He put his hand on Jake's shoulder who dropped his head forward then turned it sideways and up, not quite meeting Franklin's eyes. Silent tears were slowly making their way down his cheeks again.
"Jake, the dead die only once. It is the living who die a hundred times."
Jake raised his head and looked at the ceiling, his mouth opened and a desperate wail escaped from it.
"Jake, Emily would have wanted you to live. She never gave up."
Jake finally looked at Franklin, but he still couldn't say anything.
"When she tried to talk to you after Christmas last year, she was devastated that you wouldn't tell her what had happened, that you shut her out, but she never gave up hope that there would be a happy ending. When she came back from Denver she was happy. She was the happiest she had ever been since she was a carefree little girl."
He paused for a while. His eyes were unfocused like he was looking at a long distant memory of Emily as a child, running around the house giggling. "Emily was my only child and you gave her the happiest time of her life. I cannot thank you enough for that. No one of us knows when our time is up, Jake. You almost died in Venezuela, but you clawed your way back and you gave my girl a happy ending to her story. It helps me to know that my little girl died happy." He paused, "I believe that in time there will be a happy ending for you too."
Jake's voice was choked and full of emotion when he answered. "I don't believe in happy ends. In my life there have never been any happy endings. Every time I come within inches of the summit I get thrown off the mountain. And every time I fall further and harder and right now I don't even know which direction is up." He paused and when he spoke again his voice had regained a bit of strength. "After I broke my back, I could only come so far, but then Emily came back into my life and she pulled me up the rest of the way and now, and now she's gone …" He leaned back and closed his eyes and clamped his left hand over his mouth.
"I know Jake, I know." Franklin got up and walked over to the kitchen counter. He poured himself and Jake a coffee. JJ was leaning against the counter following the exchange in silence. Now he grabbed his own mug and joined Franklin and Jake back at the table.
Franklin put one mug down in front of Jake. "Jake, I want you to tell me about what happened in Venezuela."
JJ looked at Franklin in surprise. Then he understood and nodded.
Jake looked confused. "Why now?"
"Because I want you to remember that you have done it before. You have fought back before."
"You know all I ever wanted was a single damn thing worth fighting for, but this," he looked down at his legs, "this is not worth fighting for. I can't do it."
"Jake, please." Franklin's voice was quiet but determined.
"Do you really want to know what it's like to wake up in a hospital bed not able to move anything other than your arms and your head? And then to be told with certainty that you will never walk again?"
Franklin nodded.
"The enormity of that reality takes your breath away. It was devastating and I have never felt so lonely in my life. Do you know how many nights I lay awake thinking of Emily? Trying to figure out what I did to make her walk out on me for good? Hoping against hope that the door would open and she would walk in and say 'Hi Jake' like nothing had happened and at the same time being horrified that she may actually do it? To hear her say in my mind 'I didn't want you when you were healthy, why would I possibly want a cripple?'" He paused for a moment, but neither JJ nor Franklin said anything.
"It took me a year to be able to face her, but nevertheless she was my cause. I wanted to prove to her that I was a better man for all that happened—I can't do it again." He pulled the Velcro strap off that held his arm against his chest and slammed the cast palm up onto the table in front of him. The coffee mug was thrown up and toppled over, coffee spilling over the surface and running over the edge. Jake groaned and collapsed onto the table.
It had all happened in a fraction of a second, before JJ or Franklin had a chance to react. Both looked at Jake horrified.
"Oh, shit," was all that JJ managed to say. He got up and pulled Jake up into a seated position, but Jake was out cold.
"Franklin, help me get him onto the sofa." He put both arms under Jake's and pulled the chair back from the table. "Take his feet"
Together they carried the unconscious Jake over to the sofa and put him on his left in a stable position. JJ grabbed a pillow and put it in front of Jake's chest. As he rested the cast on top of it, the hand higher than the elbow, he noticed some blood between Jake's fingertips. "Oh, shit."
He got up and grabbed a ruler that was lying on the kitchen counter and wrapped some tissue paper around it. He slid it between Jake's arm and the cast from the elbow. When he pulled it back it was red with Jake's blood.
"Dammit! Franklin, I think one of the bone fragments in his hand has punctured the skin."
"What do you want to do? Take him back to the hospital?"
"No, that's the last thing I want to do. I'll try to get a doctor from the base to come here."
He got up and picked up the phone. Franklin sat down in the armchair closest to Jake and regarded him thoughtfully.
JJ put the phone down. "One of the doctors at the base here is really good orthopedic surgeon. We're lucky, he's off duty. He said he's going to be here in about half an hour." He went to the bathroom and pulled a towel off a rack then he stuck it under Jake's elbow.
"Good." Franklin looked at JJ. "You know John, I've always had a soft spot for Jake, just like you, but how do you help a man in a situation like this?"
"At the end of the day you can only help him if he wants to be helped, that's the problem."
"But as far as I know he didn't try to kill himself after he found out that he would remain paralyzed—you know that I found out what had happened to Jake two days after he got shot down?"
JJ shook his head.
"Quite by coincidence really, but Dr. Lassiter, the doctor who was treating him at Walter Reed, is a friend of mine. I phoned her on her birthday and she told me about this kid they had just brought back from Venezuela with one of the worst spinal fractures she'd ever seen. I was shocked when I realized it was Jake. So I kept taps on him from a distance. I even pulled some strings for him when he tried to get his knee surgery approved, but I didn't tell Emily then because I felt that if she knew it wouldn't help his recovery."
"Jake mentioned you told her that he's paralyzed."
"Yes, I did, but only in the end of December after she had spoken to Jake. She had asked me long before if I could find out what had happened. It was a steep learning curve for her that she couldn't just always say 'Jump!' and Jake would say 'How high?' That's why I think it worked out between them in the end, because she learned to respect him and to really see him for the person he is."
"I think that was wise," JJ acknowledged. "It's all about perspective. It always is. And secondly it's about believing in yourself. Jake doesn't believe in himself anymore. He made Emily the center of his being and validated himself through her."
"So what you're saying is that he actually never fully recovered in the first place and now he got thrown back."
"Yes, and worse. Because what kept him going was the possibility of a future with Emily. Now he's back where he was without that perspective. I think that's most likely why he tried to kill himself now."
Jake groaned. It was the first sound he had made since they had put him on the sofa. They sat in silence and waited for him to come around. Eventually he opened his eyes and regarded Franklin and JJ in silence, his face drawn.
JJ got up and went downstairs into the den. He came back with another one of Jake's black T-shirts. Jake tried to push himself up, but couldn't because he couldn't use his right hand to bring his legs forward. He fell back onto his side.
Franklin looked questioningly at JJ who shook his head.
Grim faced Jake pushed the pillow out of the way and extended his left hand, grabbed the fabric of his left trouser leg and yanked it forward. The knee shot over the edge of the sofa and his foot dropped on the ground. He repeated the procedure with his right leg a bit more gently this time. Then he pushed himself up into a seated position.
JJ threw him the T-shirt. "Here, make yourself presentable, Corporal, a doctor is coming to see to your hand. And keep that towel under your elbow, you're bleeding." The tone of his voice had taken on a commanding, military quality that didn't allow for any objection.
"Yes, sir," Jake mumbled. Slowly he unfastened the harness and pulled it off then pulled the coffee-stained T-shirt over his head. He took the towel and wiped at the blood that had congealed at his elbow. He stuck the cast through the sleeve of the new shirt with care and pulled it on. He left the harness off but wrapped the towel around his elbow and dropped back against the backrest cradling the cast to his chest with the other arm. He closed his eyes again.
They waited in silence until the doorbell rang. JJ got up and let the doctor in. They shook hands then JJ led him into the lounge.
The doctor walked up to Jake. "I'm Dr. O'Malley and you are?"
"Jake Sully."
"Corporal Jake Sully from First Recon?"
Jake just nodded.
O'Malley sat down on the edge of the coffee table on front of Jake. "Nice to meet you Sully. I worked on your back."
The vaguest of smiles appeared on Jake's face, but was instantly replaced with the same sullen expression as before.
"Can I have a look at your hand?"
Jake extended the encased hand towards O'Malley. His whole arm was shaking.
The doctor took Jake's arm with both hands, lifting it and twisting it and with every movement Jake flinched.
"Apart from the blood, I'm a bit concerned that your fingernails are blue. This cast definitely has to come off. I think the swelling is impeding the blood flow to your fingers. Can we move over to the table?" He made a backwards movement with his head towards the dining table.
JJ pushed Jake's wheelchair up to the sofa. O'Malley stood aside and let JJ help Jake into the chair. While he pushed Jake towards the table, Franklin went and got another towel which he spread over the table.
Jake placed his arm on the table and O'Malley brought a small bottle that held a clear liquid that he squirted into the groove along both sides of the cast indicating the seam between the two halves. After a minute the halves came apart. O'Malley lifted off the top shell, leaving the bottom in place for the moment to stabilize the hand. Jake's hand was a mess. Apart from the swelling that was more pronounced now than when JJ had seen it before the cast had come on, red and purple bruising had spread all around his hand, half way down his fingers and over his wrist, the dried blood had caked most of his pinky and ring finger, the top of his hand and spread along the underside all the way to the elbow. With the pressure off new blood was flowing out of the blood vessel that had been punctured by the sliver of bone that stuck through the skin at an oblique angle.
"Nasty, I'm not even going to ask how you managed that with a cast in place," was O'Malley's only comment. He got a syringe and injected Jake's hand in several places. After a while the hand stopped shaking. He lifted it up carefully and felt the movement of the bones. He looked at JJ. "You said third and fourth metacarpal, right?"
"Yes, that's what I saw on the image."
"They seem to have gotten that right at least."
"So gents, what are we going to do? Obviously you want this little incident to be kept off the books else you'd be at the emergency room and I wouldn't be here." He placed Jake's arm back onto the bottom half of the cast.
"What are the options?" JJ asked.
"Option one. I pull out the bone fragment, reset the bone and leave it to heal on its own. Risk of infection is pretty small but the downside is with the piece missing the bone will stay weak and it could break again when you hit a punching ball at the gym." He got some tape out of his case and temporarily secured the half cast in place. "Option two. We do a bit of field surgery here and I put the piece of bone back and wire the metacarpal together, meaning I thread some titanium wire around and through it. That will make it as good as new, it will also heal faster, but there is a bigger risk of infection. Option three. We'll make you a whole shiny new metacarpal and you'll be fit again in a week. But that requires microsurgery to reattach the muscles and ligaments like we did in your back and you would have to come in for that."
"Three is out of the question," JJ answered on Jake's behalf straight away.
"So Sully what do you think?" O'Malley looked at Jake who seemed to be only vaguely interested in the fact that the discussion was about his hand.
After what seemed like a small eternity he said quietly, "whatever gets me the use of my hand back faster."
JJ considered the comment and wondered if Jake had decided to give living another try or if he just wanted to escape JJ's reach to make another attempt at killing himself sooner rather than later. He hoped for the former.
"Okay, wire it is, Corporal Sully. I'll be back in an hour, I have to get some things, and please don't do anything else stupid with your hand while I'm gone after all the trouble I went through to give you two new vertebrae." O'Malley strode towards the front door.
Franklin turned towards JJ. "Did you know that O'Malley was involved in Jake's spinal surgery?"
"No I didn't. I know him because he fixed my meniscus three years ago and subsequently I dealt with some legal matters for him."
"It's a small world."
Fifty minutes later O'Malley was back. He brought sterile covers, scrubs and whatever else he needed. He threw packs of gloves at JJ and Franklin and placed a surgical cover on the table over the towel. He brought a little tray and tweezers and pulled the piece of bone out of Jake's hand. Jake gasped in pain and surprise. Then he removed the cast from Jake's hand again, made him take off his shirt and took him over to the kitchen sink where he poured bottled water over the hand and arm to wash off the blood. The previous sedation had worn off almost completely and Jake cringed and groaned while O'Malley manipulated his hand. They went back to the table and O'Malley injected more of the local anesthetic. Then while waiting for the sedative to take effect, he swabbed the hand. He picked up a scalpel and cut along the third metacarpal and over the knuckle. Overall it was a rater messy affair. He drilled tiny holes into the bone ends to anchor the wire which was no thicker than a human hair, realigned the fragments and threaded the wire around and under tendons and nerves. When he had placed the wire, he pulled it taught, anchored the other end and closed up the cut. Instead of sutures he glued the fascia and skin back together, safe near the wrist where he put a shunt and used a suture on either side to keep it secured. JJ and Franklin shone lights and held clamps whenever and wherever necessary. Jake regarded the whole spectacle impassively. O'Malley placed Jake's hand back into the bottom shell of the cast, put sterile padding on top and wrapped it with a roll of Co-flex. Then he placed Jake's hand against his chest and wrapped it in place with another roll of the self-adhesive bandage. JJ brought a loose sweat shirt and helped Jake to put it on then took him back to the sofa and helped him across. Jake lay down, his upper body propped up on a pillow against the arm rest. He still hadn't said a single word.
O'Malley walked over to the sofa and stood over Jake. "Sully, I know you're hurting. I've seen it too many times before, but if you do anything like this again you will lose your hand—I'll come back here and cut it off myself and I won't think twice about it." He turned around and went back to the kitchen to collect his belongings. He left two bottles of pills on the counter. Then, once he grabbed his case and duffel bag, O'Malley took a last look at Jake.
Jake finally spoke. His voice was hoarse. "O'Malley—thank you; on both accounts."
Jake closed his eyes. The injections were wearing off again and the painful throbbing in his hand was getting worse. He thought about O'Malley's last comment and decided that it was more than an idle threat. He concentrated on the throbbing pain; it kept the other painful thoughts at bay.
"Jake."
Jake opened his eyes. Franklin was standing next to the sofa, holding a water bottle towards Jake.
"You have to drink something. You haven't had anything to drink at all."
Jake took the bottle from him and took some sips. Then he wedged it between his hip and the backrest of the sofa and closed his eyes again. He heard Franklin walk away and then towards him again. He opened his eyes and tracked Franklin's movement. Franklin moved the coffee table further away from the sofa and placed a chair so that he could look at Jake and Jake could look back at him without turning his head. He sat down.
"Jake did you know that Dr. Lassiter's birthday is the day after yours?"
Jake shook his head very slowly just one movement left and right.
I called her on her birthday last year. When I asked her about work she told me about this young Marine that had been brought back from Venezuela two days earlier with the worst spinal fracture she'd ever come across. I asked where he was from and she said 1st Recon Battalion at Pendleton, so I said I know a few guys from 1st Recon, in fact one of them is involved with my daughter. I said I hope it's not him. She asked for the name and when I gave it to her, you know what she said? She said Franklin, I'm really sorry for you and your daughter but that's him and to be honest I don't think he's going to make it. For two days I tried to make up my mind whether to tell Emily or not and in the end I decided only to tell her if you died. To be honest that was one of the hardest decisions I ever made; to possibly deny her the opportunity to say good bye to you, but I was angry with her and I felt it wouldn't help you if she knew. After two days when I hadn't heard from her I called Serena—Dr. Lassiter—back and she said your vitals had improved that your chances were now fifty/fifty. She said you were scheduled for surgery the next day, but that the nerve damage was so extensive that they wouldn't be able to fix it. Jake that really shook me up, but I was happy when Serena said that you would make it. You are a fighter Jake, I knew you would fight back." He paused and regarded Jake for a moment.
"I pulled some strings to get your knee surgery approved and JJ just put his career on the line for you to keep the suicide attempt and the surgery on your hand under wraps because we believe in you Jake. Please promise me that you won't try to kill yourself or harm yourself again. I don't want to lose another child."
"I can't."
"Jake, you are a Marine; you are the best of the best. The fact alone that you made it out of Venezuela is testament to that. Remember what you once told me that when you went through boot camp and thought you couldn't do another push-up or walk another step that you would tell yourself that you can pass any test? Jake, this is another test. Just think of that. It is just another test."
Jake held on to those two thoughts: I am a Marine and then I can pass any test. But it was so painful and so difficult and he was so very tired; but here were two men, two other Marines who were looking out for him. He remembered JJ crying in the early hours of the morning and he realized that, as isolated and lonely as he felt, he wasn't alone. They weren't Emily, they could never replace Emily and they would never be able to give him that sense of normality that she had given him, but they challenged the Marine in him to be stronger and tougher and better than the common man. He wasn't sure if he would be able to live up to their expectations, but the least he could do was to give it a try. He cleared his throat. "I don't know yet if I can, Franklin, but I'll give you my word as a Marine that I will try."
"That's good enough for today."
Jake slept for a while. When he woke up about an hour later, Jake felt like he had woken up from a dream. He felt calm, detached. He tried to sit up and remembered that the surgeon had bandaged his hand against his chest. It was sore, but not as sore as it had been before. With the left on the backrest of the sofa he pulled himself up. Neither Franklin nor JJ were around but he could hear them talking. The sound was muffled, coming from downstairs. He drank some water then he pushed his legs over the edge of the sofa to sit up properly against the back rest.
He thought of Emily. Emily was gone and she wouldn't come back. Had she actually been real? Jake remembered the last three months clearly. Emily's visit to Denver, his move back to San Diego, the time they spent together, the wedding, skydiving the next day, dinner two evenings ago when they had talked about their plans after Emily had told him to his great surprise that she was pregnant, but that it was still too early to tell anyone. He remembered it all, but it all felt unreal. The pain that had torn him apart just hours earlier was just a vague shadow in his memory.
Jake looked for his wheelchair. It was standing a bit off to the side, but out of his reach. On the seat he saw Emily's toy tiger. He looked at it for a while. He had given it to her and he had held it in his hand and tickled Emily's nose with it. She had laughed and grabbed it from him and clutched it against her chest. He remembered every vivid detail, but the emotion was gone. He remembered himself laughing, but he couldn't connect with the laughter anymore.
Jake cleared his throat. Then he called JJ and Franklin.
JJ and Franklin came up the stairs and found Jake sitting up on the sofa. The curiously blank expression on Jake's face set off alarm bells in JJ's head. "How are you feeling, Jake?"
"I don't know. Tired I guess. My hand is sore and my back."
"Do you need any of your medication?"
"Did you bring my whole kit?"
"The black bag from your bathroom." Franklin answered.
"Can I have it please?"
Franklin turned around and went back downstairs to fetch it. JJ sat down in the armchair and regarded Jake thoughtfully. Franklin came back with the bag and handed it to Jake who took out a blister pack and pushed out one of the tablets. He swallowed it with a sip of water.
"What did you take?"
"Diclofenac."
JJ nodded.
"I'm going home."
"But you will need help."
"Yes, I know. Franklin would you stay with me for a while? That should also alleviate any fears you may have that I just want to go back there so I can try to kill or hurt myself."
"I can do that." The concerned look on Franklin's face showed that he wasn't quite sure how to interpret the sudden turn of events.
"I don't think you will try that in any case. At least not right now," JJ stated.
"How do you know?" Jake looked surprised for a fraction of a moment.
"Because you are dissociative."
Franklin looked questioningly at JJ.
"I'm ok with you going back home if Franklin stays with you."
"Well good then. Will you please bring my chair?"
"What's your address?" JJ asked.
"Are you questioning my sanity?"
"No, not your sanity, your memory."
"5567 Santa Carolina Blvd apartment 5612. Happy?"
JJ nodded then looked at Franklin. "Will you take him?"
"Yes, sure." Franklin still wasn't sure what was going on.
JJ got up. He moved the chair closer to Jake and let him grab on to get in. "Franklin will you help Jake into your car? I'll pack his stuff so long."
"Sure."
"Where are my shoes?" Jake asked.
"Downstairs. I'll get them now." JJ disappeared down the stairs and came back with the Skechers and Jake's leather jacket which Franklin had brought as well. He handed the shoes to Jake who slipped them onto his feet, than held the jacket so that Jake could slip in with one arm and draped it over Jake's other shoulder.
Jake looked up at JJ. "JJ, thank you for everything. I know what you did for me. I hope that somehow I can make it up to you."
"As I said before, just be all that you can be."
"I am a Marine JJ, well ex-Marine. I haven't forgotten."
"Good. I'll talk to you soon."
Jake nodded then he looked at Franklin. "Let's go."
Franklin pushed Jake towards the front door. He looked back at JJ. "I'll come get his bag now."
Franklin took Jake outside, helped him into the passenger seat of his car and stowed away the wheelchair in the boot. Then he went back inside to fetch the bag. JJ was waiting behind the door. "John, what the hell is going on?"
"Jake is having a dissociative episode. He has disconnected from his emotions. Have you noticed, he's neither sad nor angry nor happy, he's just—neutral. But at the same time he in in control."
"Is this bad and how long will it last?"
"It's not necessarily bad and I can't tell you how long it will last. Just let me know if his behavior changes significantly, will you?"
"Certainly." He took the bag from JJ. "I'll call you later. I don't know what scares me more; Jake trying to hurt himself to externalize the pain or Jake with no emotions at all. That can't be good for him neither." Franklin turned and stepped back outside.
"We'll see." JJ closed the door behind him.