He stood there, looking down, realizing that the flowers, no matter their quality and beauty, were not enough. Nothing was going to be enough.
Decreased left ventricular systolic function.
Complicated words that had very little meaning to him. They had been simple the previous day yet the reality of them remained the same. A change in title did not help her evade death, nor him guilt. It would not ease the intense feeling that he was failing her more distinctly that her own heart.
He wanted to be everything she needed. Her reprieve from fear, from death, from any further pain. More selfishly, he wanted to save her for himself. As her hero, she would be indebted to him. She would have to love him then. No excuses or open-ended clauses that allowed her to opt in favor of letting her friend have him or leaving him stranded in New York. She would have to stay - alive, close to him, always in his life - if he could save her. She would have no choice.
But he could not do any of it; she still had no choice.
And he had no second chance.
He pinched the bridge of his nose in a violent rage. He was not allowed to feel self-pity. He had been elected go in first for a reason. Send in the clown, he had said to the others. His status as a screw-up, a joke, was working to his favor this one time. He would have the chance to make her smile, to allow a moment's peace before facing a swarm of broken hearts with false bravado.
Maybe I am not so useless after all. Taking a deep breath, he took two steps forward.
***
The harsh reflection of the vacant walls pierced her eyelids, making a wakeful gaze difficult to sustain. The stiffness in her neck rendered her head immobile, her face slumping against the pillow. She was no stranger to such surroundings. Poisonous white walls, grey upholstered chairs for visitors. Monitors above her head emitted faint blips that could not possibly indicate her body's functions. They were too light, wavering in a droning taunt. The distress of each passing second never changed their sound. It was a steady, never faltering reminder.
She had always hated hospitals but the intensity had grown over the last year. At least this will be the last time, she thought, forcing herself to be absent of emotion. It also resolved a once complicated matter. There was no longer a choice to be made. Death kept ironic company, slighting her in its presence while at the same time giving her the bravery that she lacked in the passed.
She sighed, pressing her eyelids together tightly. Anything else, she thought. Her mind needed to be thinking of anything else.
She saw the sidewalk glistening in front of her, her white sneakers looking dirty against it. The rain intensified the smell of garbage clinging to everything. Though she was already uncomfortable, she pulled the sleeves of her shirt down and hid her face beneath a hood. If she was invisible, an easy feat amidst a sea of faceless commuters, he would not be able to see her walking away.
Her continued movements were unknowing; she felt the disconnect from everything around her. She'd had no plan when she woke up, panicked by the presence of his body securely resting against hers. Only that she would go.
The phone receiver was slick with rain and clicked in her ear as the coins dropped. Her words were brief and rational, each more selfish than the next. Still, she knew Grams would listen to the message and realize that it was for the best, even if she did not understand. She would not want to hurt Pacey anymore than Jen did so she would find a convincing yet equally sympathetic way to send him back to Capeside. He would go calmly and quietly, taking with him the responsibility for why it happened the way it did.
She saddled the receiver quietly, before bracing herself against a dirty cement wall. Her knees buckled, sliding her body to the ground, a searing tear racing the rest of her.
When she opened her eyes, she saw him standing in the doorway, muttering to himself. She could not avoid facing him anymore, not even if she called out to her Grandmother. The time had come, as she knew it would eventually, though she had envisioned it differently.
"So they sent you in first…" She was glad for it. Nothing made her feel more grounded, more safe than Pacey's closeness.