Prompt: Write a Cliffhanger by MelissaMotown
Characters: Joe Hart and Marley Rose
Words: 645
Date: January 23, 2013
Author's Note: I was at a loss for this prompt about who to write for so I opened it up to the twitterverse. Tarra chose Joe Hart, so this is for her. I hope you all like it.
Joe had been the first one to run out to get Marley's mom after Marley passed out on stage, so when Mrs. Rose in her distraught state needed someone to drive with her to the hospital, she immediately asked Joe. Marley had protested anyone coming, she definitely didn't want Jake or Ryder seeing her at her worst, but she knew her Mom would need the support and Joe was a good guy. Besides, her mother didn't give her much of a choice.
Sad and confused at the hospital, and not wanting to upset her mother any more than she already had, she asked Joe to stay with her while her mother spoke with the psychiatrist who'd screened her. She'd known what to say the doctor, had told him what he wanted to hear. After all, she wasn't going to tell some 50 year old stranger her deepest darkest secrets. But Joe…maybe that was different.
He sat by her bedside, a chair pulled up, his elbows on the bed, hands clasped. She didn't know if he was praying. She knew he did that a lot. It's part of what made him feel safe.
"Can you keep a secret?" she muttered low, not wanting anyone outside to hear her.
He looked up at her, an eagerness to please and be included tempered by the gravity of the situation. "Of course."
"Swear it Joe," she said, knowing that with him it would mean something. "Swear to God you won't tell."
"Marley," he protested, but she held firm.
"I won't tell you unless you swear."
Joe thought for a moment. Whatever it was, it must be important, and anything that important to Marley needed to be said out loud before it drowned her. Despite his better judgment, he agreed. "I swear."
She stared down as she fiddled with her fingers, unable to meet his eyes, but he watched her carefully, never straying, while she spoke.
She started with a whisper. "Sometimes I think it would be easier for my mother if I wasn't here," she said. "If she didn't have to worry about me she could worry about herself, her own health. She could do whatever she wanted, not be a lunch lady. Maybe travel the world, or sing, or write a book."
"Your mother loves you Marley," Joe said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it, but it was as if Marley didn't hear.
"Sometimes I think it would be good to die young," she continued, her voice almost ethereal. "Like I am now, still thin and a little pretty, before my metabolism slows and my thyroid fails and the weight just starts piling on and I can't do anything to stop it." She finally looked up at him. Her eyes were dark and haunted, nothing like her usual carefree innocence. "I think it would be better to die young."
The nurse came in and took over the room. Joe backed out slowly, watching, waiting, for what he wasn't sure. When he hit the door, he turned and stumbled out, his mind spinning with Marley's words. He'd sworn an oath he did not give lightly, but would God forgive him if he broke that oath to save a life?
He found Marley's mom in the waiting area just outside. She was crying, defeat and fear enveloping her. Was it fair to add more to her plate right now, while she already grieved? But there was greater grief that he could try to prevent and didn't that trump everything else as a Christian? He stood at the crossroads, not sure which way to go, but he knew that whatever he chose he had to choose something.
"Mrs. Rose?" he said softly and she looked up, her eyes rimmed red from crying. He sat next to her, taking her hands in his. "Mrs. Rose, there's something I need to tell you."