A/N: This is the last chappy. (:

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter Three

Two Weeks Later

All was silent.

Except for the beeping of a heart monitor.

And the sound of crying.

The hospital room was stark white. The white was so pure it was almost to a point of brilliance, shining so brightly. The first time Cody Martin saw it he'd thought it was a miracle. Now he wished he could see something else. This was the only thing he'd seen for who knew how many days. He'd been here languishing in this same room for who knew how long. And every second he was here even longer he felt more and more guilty, like this whole thing was his fault.

Cody stared at the still form of his twin brother, at the IVs sticking out of his arms, at his peaceful expression. At first when Cody had heard about the coma he hadn't believed it. But then he'd seen Zack, and he'd known that the doctors were telling the truth, and that his brother wasn't going to live. But morbid as it was Cody almost wished Zack would get it over with and die already, stop dragging all this out so incredibly painfully. This hurt so much it was almost like Cody was the one in the coma from poisoning.

Yew berries, Cody thought wretchedly. Why didn't I look at the damned things before Zack ate them? He should've checked. He so should have checked. This was all his fault, all this entire mess was his fault. He'd read tons of articles on yew berries and such poisonous things, he'd studied photographs of them online, he'd known the symptoms: coma, convulsions, irregular heartbeat, difficulty breathing, severe abdominal pain, nausea, blue lips, dilated pupils. Of course, Zack hadn't demonstrated a few of those symptoms for a while, and when he did it was even more horrible than when Cody had first seen him. Cody shut his eyes, burying his face in his hands, trying to shove out the thought of Zack thrashing around in the sand -

Help me, Cody thought. Please help us. Please help us, please. Cody didn't even know what he was doing anymore. He'd done everything he could think of. He followed around the doctors trying to distract himself, asking if they needed any help with anything. He sorted out papers for the people at the front desk. He visited patients who never got any visitors. He comforted his mother. He comforted his father. He comforted people in the waiting room. He heard a Christian station on the radio, some girl singing about how she was never alone, and he violently turned off the radio. So what was he doing now?

He didn't know.

Help us. Heal him. If You're out there. We need You.

Cody moved his hands and put his head between his knees instead. He was so hysterical now, thinking about the entire situation, that he had even resorted to praying. A long time ago he'd thought that God didn't exist. He'd looked at God as a scientist would - how on earth could a God possibly exist? It simply was impossible. Evolution was more likely. But every time Cody thought about evolution and questioned others about evolution, they went backwards so far they reached a point where it was unexplainable.

Before now Cody had ignored that. He wondered if he was supposed to embrace it instead.

If You're out there.

Proof was what Cody had wanted, and although Darwin and the others had provided that, God had never given Cody any proof of His existence. All knowledge degenerates into probability, Cody thought at random, recalling how he'd studied Hume and his theories in history class. Maybe Hume had been right in calling science a paradigm.

Science didn't solve everything.

If You're out there.

Cody sat up, looking over at the bed. Zack was still and silent. The heart monitor beeped along at a steady rate. Disappointment flooded through him - as if he'd expected anything else. Even if God did exist, why would he help Cody Martin of all people? Cody had ignored God and shoved Him out all his life. Why would God want to help him?

The beeping sped up and the covers shifted, and Zachary Martin sat up.