AN: Sorry this is so late in the day in coming folks, but saturday my laptop, in a fit of angst worthy of Degrassi, decided it just couldn't hack it anymore and spontaneously combusted. Well alright, it didn't combust (although that would have been awesome) but it did kick the bucket in a most un-spectacular way. Thankfully, I remembered to update my back-up cd on Friday so the end of this story was not dragged to a premature death like my suicidal computer, and I've managed to kife my brother's computer to post this update from the cd. Everyone burn a sheet of printer paper in sacrifice to the wonderful techno-babble-gods who reminded me that I hadn't updated my backup disk in three months, lol.
On another note, I lied last chapter. Or more I changed my mind after posted. This was supposed to be the last chapter before the epilogue, but in revision I decided that this was a horribly anti-climactic finale and I instead chose to rewrite the ending so that it would be much more suspenseful and would hopefully give the sort of memorable ending that twenty-plus chapters worth of ranting, internal conflictions, and angst deserved. So on that note (I say that a lot, don't I?) there will in fact be TWO MORE CHAPTERS after this one, and then finally the epilogue will come. I hope you guys all like the decision in the long run, even if it does mean that you won't find out till next chapter about JD's miserable fate. Sorry folks! So, not on another note, I'll go ahead and let you all get on to the stuff you actually want to be reading. Or at least I hope that's what you came to read...
Chapter 21 – His Last Ditch
Sometimes when we're fighting a losing battle, we have to throw out all the stops and give it everything we've got. And almost always, every one of those is a failure. But when you start losing hope, there's always that one last thing you've got to try before surrendering completely. That last ditch attempt. If it works, you can bolster your morale, pull back and win. And if it fails, then you've just got to go ahead and bow out gracefully before you get steamrollered.
The next four days passed in almost the same way that that night had. I spent most of the next ninety-six hours sitting in that same chair in Newbie's room, leaving only for coffee, bathroom breaks, and the occasional catnap in the on-call room during the day. When I went down to my car after the first day, resigned to having to go home for fresh clothes and a shave, I found a rucksack in the passenger seat of my Porsche, filled with several sets of clothes. Smiling, knowing it had to be Jordan's doing, I grabbed a clean outfit and returned to the hospital. I really hadn't wanted to leave the grounds anyway. Not out of paranoia, just – convenience. I took showers in the locker room, shaved with a razor I nicked out of the supply closet, and collected my lunches from the cafeteria to eat up in the ICU, usually with the company of at least one of Newbie's gal pals. The rest of the time I spent working on paperwork I brought in with me or pretending to sleep while the mod squad sat and talked to JD.
And although we were all trying to hide it from each other, with each minute that passed without the slightest change, we were all losing hope. I could see it in all their faces when they came in, and while they tried to talk in natural tones to the prone figure, and when they exchanged looks as one person left to be replaced by the next.
By the fifth morning, marking exactly one month since his accident, the hope was practically gone. The visits started becoming shorter and their talking was forced. After her morning visit Barbie left crying and wasn't seen for the rest of the day, Gandhi had marched out stiffly with a horribly vacant expression on his face, and Carla had only stood by the bed the entire time, stroking Newbie's head gently and staring at him with a sad smile. After five minutes of that she had simply walked away, with a single tear on her cheek. Admittedly, seeing that tear had struck me harder than anything else I had seen or heard over the last few days. That tear wasn't typical girlish sadness; that was the single tear of heartbreak. That was the tear of Carla giving up hope.
And if Carla Espinoza was giving up, then how could the rest of us hold out any longer?
"Damn it, Newbie," I swore aloud, throwing myself out of the chair in frustration. It was well past eleven o'clock now, and the ICU was nearly silent in the late hour. Although everyone else had gone home for the night, I was retaining my all-night vigil at his bedside. Just in case. "You can't do this!" Growling, I pulled my hands through my hair and laced them together behind my head. All of the stressful emotions, which had doubled in the last week, were brimming inside me. I paced an anxious circle in the room, trying to calm myself.
"Damn it, Newbie," I said again. "Why do you have to make this so difficult on me?" The words were escaping me before I even registered that I was thinking them. "Everything was all fine and normal, and then you had to come in that morning all in a tissy, and now – " My words trailed off into a growl, but as I set eyes on that pale figure I felt the anger rush out of me, replaced by a different emotion entirely.
Sighing, I closed the door and twisted the blinds shut. If I was going to crack and give this a shot, I didn't want people being able to watch. I didn't honestly want to do it at all, but I knew I had to, if only for the sake of what little sanity I still had.
With another loud sigh, I sank back into my chair. "Damn it, Newbie," I said again, but this time without much conviction. "You always gotta make things complicated, doncha?" A short laugh slipped, unbidden, from my mouth.
"Everything was normal before this. It was all habits and routine. I was used to that and I knew what was going on and generally what to expect. I liked that. I liked the sense of control that gives. As doctors we don't have a lot of control around here, at least not near as much as we like to think. So things being normal was nice."
I leaned back, rubbing my hands over my face. "Then this mess with you starts and all that goes straight out the window," I said with another small chuckle. "I mean, c'mon Natalie, couldn't you just leave well enough alone? I was happy with the way things were. They made sense. Now – God, now everything is just so damn confusing. I don't understand what is happening anymore, with you and with me and all this mess between us especially."
I fell silent for a moment, trying to get my head cleared because I was having a hard time thinking straight. All of this frustration and thinking that had been building inside me for the last month was reaching its boiling point and now it was all filling my head so fast I couldn't make sense of it. Which is probably why I felt crazy enough to be reduced to ranting to Newbie's unconscious body like he was my shrink. Hmm, maybe that was my problem, I hadn't been to either of my shrinks for a while…
"You know, I guess I shouldn't be surprised it's you that I'm talking to, should I?" I asked aloud to the quiet room, with a hollow laugh. "It's always you, isn't it? The one who's there to listen to me when it's all too much. I don't get it, I don't know why. I have plenty of other people I can talk to, that I do talk to when things are bothering me. My shrinks, Jordan, Carla, in instances of extreme insanity it's Ben. But every time I get to the breaking point, it's always you, kid. I guess it's like Dr. Gross, my shrink, said: I gotta keep you around because, for god knows what reason, you are the only person that can get through to me.
"Like that time with the transplant patients. I don't know what was going on in my head then, I still can't figure it all out honestly. When I realized everyone was coming to see me, I couldn't have cared less really. I didn't really want the company, but I was too numb to be bothered with telling 'em to get out. But, and trust me I am so not proud to admit this, every time that door opened I kept hoping it was you who was coming. I don't know why, because I really didn't want to face you after all that. And then when Carla told me you weren't coming, God, Newbie, I was disappointed. Because even with all that, I could only think that I had ruined whatever ass-backwards friendship we had and that you never wanted to see me again. Not that I blame you one minute for that, really."
I was no longer aware at all of what I was saying, or where I was going with it. I was just talking, letting everything come out of me without bothering to throw up the filters I normally kept between my brain and mouth. That insane urge to just keep talking had possessed me and I was too fried to care anymore. I just let it all come out, my brain taking the monologue wherever it pleased.
"You know, I have never been more relieved or more terrified than that moment you showed up at the door. I was relieved because it meant you had finally gotten over your anger enough to be able to face me, but at the same time I was so scared of what you were going to say. I was afraid you'd judge me and tell me how disappointed you were in me. And in a way, you did tell me something like that. But ya know, Lola, in some sick, twisted way, hearing that you were proud of me and that, despite that all, you still wanted to be like me, well damn that was the thing that all of a sudden made it seem okay. I don't know why, but it was the only thing that really helped. Cleared my head. All of a sudden everything seemed to have fixed itself and when you poured yourself that scotch, well, I answered before even remembering that I'd been a self-proclaimed mime until then. You don't know – or who knows, maybe you do know – just how much sway you got over me.
"Lemme tell ya, when I went home that day after the patients died, when I was drunk at work, I have honestly never been more ashamed of myself in my life. 'Cause it was you who had to see me like that. 'Cause even though everything else was fuzzy, I remember clearer than anything else that look of disappointment on your face. That – Jack's the only other person in the world who could make me feel as bad with that look. And Jen, I imagine, when she gets old enough to give me those sorta looks.
"Dear Lord, here I am comparing you to my kids, just like everyone else. You're not my kid, Newbie. I know that. Hell, you know that. Everyone keeps pushing that idea on me but it just doesn't work. I know you want me to be like your dad, but I'm not. I'll admit to being your teacher, but not your dad. I'm not taking on that sort of responsibility. Besides, that'd make me a grandpa already and I'm not taking that hurdle yet. I'm just barely getting over the dad one, I'm not jumpin' myself up another generation." I gave another laugh, less empty than before. "Imagine the field day Jordaroo would have with the old man jokes on that one." I laughed again and rubbed a tired hand over my face.
"She, uh, she sends her best by the way," I added, awkwardly. I couldn't quite fathom what the point of sending your best anything to a coma patient was, unless it was your best consciousness to wake them up. "She's taken the kids up to her mom's lurk-hole for the week. Poor things. I'm glad I can't be dragged up there anymore, the woman honestly makes Jor look like an angel. Thank God for that whole restraining order thing. The woman was overreacting really, all I did was start a little fire in the kitchen. Course, I was extremely drunk and accidentally lit the Christmas turkey on fire, and then when she came in screaming she scared me so bad I threw the bottle of scotch I was drinking at her. It didn't much hit her, bounced off her leg, but it doused her damn little hairball of a dog, a Pomeranian I think is what she called it, and the stupid thing ran at me and wound up catching itself on fire instead." I lapsed into laughter, remembering that fateful Christmas. "God that was a fun day," I remarked wistfully.
"That's a good lesson for ya, kid, don't get one of those yappy little moron dogs. Thing's got more fur than brains. Hell, it's got more just about anything than brains. When you finally decide to get a dog that's still among the living, get yourself something big and smart. Like a labradoodle." I gave a quiet snort of laughter at the comment, remembering having called him that very same thing a time or two. Not that he knew it was actually sorta a compliment. I'd had a labradoodle as a kid, best damn dog I ever had, before my old man ran it off. "Ya know, when that kid of yours gets bigger, he's gonna beg you for a dog. One that actually barks and poops and plays and, well, breathes. Jacky's starting in on that stage now, just started asking for a puppy back around the end of summer. But I guess you still have a while off with your kid, he's still a little one.
"He really is your kid, isn't he? Well, I mean, I know he's yours, I just meant I can really see it. Looks just like you, although thankfully he inherited a chin from his mom 'cause the Lord sure didn't bless you with one. I hope he doesn't get your obsession with hair. You really are a girl, ya know. But he's – I think he's gonna turn out alright, really. He'll probably wind up crazy, and gay if you're his male role model, but still, he'll be alright. You're a good dad, ya know." I cleared my throat, the thickness making me suddenly aware of the fact I'd been talking for about an hour now. Jesus, I hadn't talked this much since the last time I was at the shrink's. Actually I didn't think I'd ever talked for this long even there, since I spent half the time listening to the so-called 'doctors' ridiculous mumbo-jumbo. Focus, Per, back on subject here. "I can see it, when you've got him around. I was worried, with you being such a man-child, but you do good with him. And you mustn'ta scarred him too badly yet if the other night is anything to judge by. Although you mighta just scarred him by ignoring him 'cause of your little coma thing."
The image of that little boy's look of terror flashed in my mind and I shook my head to get rid of it. "He's real scared you aren't gonna come back, ya know. I think everyone is," I said slowly. Here we are, getting into the deeper stuff. This is for you, Lily. "Especially your gal pals, of course, but really there are lots of people worried about it. When I went down to Coffeebucks yesterday Bobbo was asking 'bout you, and Carla said he actually stopped by for a second. Didn't expect that, thought he didn't have a heart enough to care. And of course your interns are all kinds of confused and crazy still. Pawned them off on the other attendings because I just really don't want to deal with 'em. Oh, and Jumpsuit has been lurking in this hall a lot more than usual. I see him coming down and peeking in sometimes. Course I keep an eye on him 'cause I'm wondering if he's thinking about chuckin' you out the window. Or sneaking you off to stuff you and add you to his squirrel army." I couldn't repress a shudder at this. "Guy's a crazy bastard. Sorta makes me miss Hooch."
Another heavy sigh, propping my elbows on my knees. "It is pretty different not having you 'round," I admitted. "This whole last month has been strange. I mean, I was just getting used to my new job and not having to deal with you tailing me all day, but at least then you were still popping into the office every few minutes or attacking me in the halls with your daily lunch invites or whatever it is you feel like asking me to join you in for the day. Of course you were still in the building and I still had to deal with you a lot, being your doctor and all, but that was different. I'm not gonna lie, after all these years of you practically stalking me, having you forget me was kinda weird. Okay, re-heally weird. It feels like you've been gone for this last month, even though you've been here the whole time. And it – I – ugh."
I stood up, the building rush of thoughts and emotions driving me to my feet. I couldn't hold still anymore, needed to be moving. Tangling my fingers in my hair, which I was sure probably looked a real mess by now with all the times I'd pulled at it today, I resumed pacing in that same circle from before. "All this time, all these years, I've been able to pretend that I didn't give a rat's ass what was going on with you. No, not pretend, I really didn't care. I don't give a shit. And then you come in with your big boy panties all in a twist. Well, God, Newbie that just had to go and mess everything up. You were being a sissy and had to go and avoid me all damn day and try to cut into that guy's chest without getting any sleep and then get all pissed off when I had to step in and save that guy's life. And then you storm off and almost fall off the roof and – damn it, kid, then you had to go and show me just how much you've become like me.
"I wasn't lying, all that time ago, when I said that I barely want to be me. Sure, my life's gotten just a little bit better since then. I've got my kid's, I finally got promoted, Jordan is slightly more tolerable nowadays. Or at least I only want to kill her every other day instead of every day now. But still, my life is nothing to aspire to. Kid, you've got a pretty good thing going for yourself. You're a good guy and you're a great doctor. You've got your kid, and you've got good friends, and you've got that thing with Barbie, whenever you both pull your heads out your asses enough to figure that out. You – you're better than me, kid, in a lot of ways. I mean, I'm obviously the stronger and more masculine one, generally smarter, and infinitely more attractive." I let out a small chuckle, and realized that without noticing I had at some point crossed the room and sat back down. "But you, Newbie, you're almost as good a doctor as me, and you've definitely got better bedside manner. I don't have the patience to deal with those moronic dipshits quite as well as you. And you're not the biggest idiot in this place. In fact, you've turned out pretty decent and I'm – I'm proud of you."
See, Per, that wasn't so hard. I grimaced at the mockery in my conscience's voice. There are certainly times when I hate the fact that I'm an ass through and through. It means I'm even an ass to myself. "I know I'm awful at showing it, but you've always been really good about being there for me. I suppose maybe Ben's right, you have become something like a friend to me. And I know now he's up there in heaven rolling on his ass laughing at me for admitting this. And if you could hear me you'd be having a heart attack, so it's probably a good thing you're in a coma 'cause I don't think your little girly heart can take the strain. But you – you're a good friend, Newbie, and I can see why you've got as many friends as you do. And I'll probably never say this again, but thanks for everything."
I let out a deep breath, rubbing my hands against my face roughly. Damn this being honest and forthright thing is exhausting. Or maybe it's just a week's worth of sleeping in chairs and on-call rooms finally catching up with me. "You know why I've been against that whole mentor/protégé thing you've got going through your head?" Now I'm asking questions of an unconscious guy. Really need sleep. "It's because of Pete. You remember him, I'd reckon, you seem to do a good job of remembering anything you find out about my life. I taught him everything, trusted him completely, even called him my protégé to colleagues. He was my best friend besides Ben, told him everything, let him into every aspect of my life really. And I let him get close and I grew really attached to him, almost dependant in a way. And then when he and Jordan – Newbie, there's no betrayal like being betrayed by the two people you care most about.
"Since then, well the word 'protégé' has been kind of tabooed. That's why I get so defensive with you using that word. It's not like you aren't sort of like that to me," I made a repressed noise of disgust to myself at this admission, "I just hate that word. That's why I've always called you 'Newbie,' ya know. It's my substitute word, sort of. Instead of my protégé, you're my Newbie." I laughed, shaking my head. "You must be rubbing off on me, kid, because what I just said sounded pretty girly."
I dragged a hand across my face again, stifling a yawn, and then froze with my hand on my forehead. Had I just – no, couldn't have been. It must have been the lack of a decent night's sleep catching up with me, or my hopefulness playing tricks with my brain, but I thought... I stared for several minutes longer, but nothing happened. Like I'd thought, just a trick of my eyes. Despite myself, I felt my hopes sinking just a little. Shaking my head again, I brought my thoughts back on track.
"Anyway, what I think I'm trying to say is, I don't say it a lot, or ever I guess, but you've been a good – Newbie – and if you decide to just keep up this little 'fairy tale, enchanted sleep' act you're pulling, I'm gonna hate coming to work even more than I do. Damn it, kid, I almost miss havin' you tail me and all. So just – just wake up already, okay? I might even let you call me 'mentor.'" I sighed and then quickly added, "Once. It won't be a regular thing, mind you. Just the one time, but when you say it I'll do my best to nawt deny it."
Grunting as I shifted in the hard chair, I glanced at my watch. Almost one in the morning. Definitely time for some much needed sleep. I stood up, meaning to head for the on-call room, but I hesitated in the doorframe. I turned back, looking over my shoulder at the figure I could now only see by the faint light of the moon coming in through the window. For some reason it was really difficult to make my foot take that extra step over the doorway. Maybe I should just…
"Okay, Tiffany, last time I'm doing this," I said, turning back around and walking back to my chair. I made myself comfortable, pulling over the second chair to prop my feet on and crossing my arms over my chest. "But if you don't wake your pansy ass up tomorrow I'm leaving you here to sleep by yourself and laying down on an actual bed tomorrow night." With one last glance at the figure, who was cut into sharp contrasts of light and shadow by the moonlight sneaking in through the blinds, I settled myself more comfortably and closed my eyes.