Chapter 7

Rose had never felt so tired when waking up; except for the occasional morning she'd had a hangover in her slightly wilder years past.

Her head felt like a rock. How long had she been sleeping?

A glimpse in the mirror, had there been one, would have showed her shiny blond hair in a rat's nest of tangles, sticking up every which way, and her clothes hung on her, making her look like she was homeless. A streak of makeup on her cheek was still there from days ago when she'd forgotten to wash her face one night—and the next morning, etc.

Groaning, she tossed her legs over the side of the dinky little hospital bed and wandered over to the small, empty stand, throwing herself down on the floor and leaning her back against the side of it, head in her hands, trying to rub away the sleepiness from her eyes.

There was a knock at the door and she looked up at it, blearily, before it opened a few seconds later.

"Um, Mrs. Smith?" the same male nurse from before poked his head in the door. His eyes wandered from the bed to the floor where she sat with her knees pulled up and relief was evident on his face.

"Yeah. Hi," Rose mumbled, her throat feeling scratchy. She suddenly realized how thirsty she was. There was a pitcher of water on the stand, and some disposable cups. Jumping up, she poured a cup and downed it in seconds, drinking it in like she hadn't had anything in days.

"You were asleep for two days," the nurse informed her.

Rose almost choked on her water. "TWO DAYS?!" she gasped. "That doesn't make any sense! I was asleep for two days??"

The nurse leaned on the doorframe. "Yep," he said, monotonously.

A hesitant laugh caught in her throat. This wasn't very funny. "Wow," she choked out. "M'so sorry. For, you know, going mental on you. Two days ago."

He raised an eyebrow. "It was a bit awkward, yeh," he confessed with a little smile.

Rose actually did laugh this time, genuinely. "You look like anything you ever do would be awkward!" she pointed at his rather blank-looking face, teasing him. Then she stopped, seeing his confusion. "Sorry, was that rude? That was rude…yeh. Sorry. What's your name?"

The nurse shifted on his feet. "Uh, Williams. Rory Williams."

"That's a stupid name!" the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Oh, that was rude again!" she gasped, realizing. She was the one being stupid! Was she really, truly mental now? She couldn't stop herself from saying anything that popped into her head! "I'm so sorry! I really am!"

"'S all right," the nurse replied slowly. "My wife says the same thing. Only she doesn't apologize for it."

That made Rose feel a little better. She reached up and felt her hair, all mussed, and frantically started trying to comb it out with her fingers in front of the nurse. "You've got a wife, then? Is she pretty?"

"She's gorgeous," Rory replied, expression still not changing as he watched her, still trying to make sure she was actually okay now and not looking entirely convinced just yet.

"Hmm," Rose said absentmindedly, still poking through her hair. She was staring off into space now, but her attention jerked back to him as she thought of another question. "Got any kids?" Suddenly she remembered something. "Oh, 'bout my kids," she added, hot embarrassment starting to creep up into her cheeks. "They don't live off of money, by the way. I don't know why I said that…or any of that stuff about them—I wasn't actually going mental the other day, was I? Was I really that crazy?"

"A bit, yeah," the nurse replied, shifting uncomfortably again. He looked down for a second, then back up at her. "But yeah, I do have a kid. Her name is Melody," he cracked a full grin for the first time since Rose had met him. "I bet you ten pounds that she's prettier than your kids!"

"Oi!" He had her full attention now! "You are a subtle, sneaky cheek, you!"

His grin grew wider as she jumped to her feet.

"Ready to go see your husband now?" the nurse asked cheerfully.

Rose shook her head at him. "You watch what you say 'bout my kids, Mr. Williams, I'm warnin' you!" Playfully, she shook a finger in his face as she pushed past him, into the hallway. He just grinned at her; rather pleased with himself, perhaps, for getting a spark of life out of the wife of his patient.

Rose burst into the room and felt her heart sink again as she instantly saw John was worse. He was no longer moving constantly, thrashing around, but his limbs were sprawled out on the water mattress, still, and his breathing was strained and heavy. Sweat glistened on his skin.

Swallowing hard, Rose put a knee up on the bed and reached out to touch his forehead. They both flinched at the touch, him because he didn't know she was there and her because he was so hot. Even the cooling water mattress was warm around the area where he was—his body temperature was heating it up faster than it could cool him down.

She spun around as the door opened and Nurse Williams came in with a tray of breakfast items, setting it down on the side table. Rose was starving, but she really wanted to be able to touch John. To let him know it was all right.

The last time they'd spoken together was a few briefly exchanged words about his condition, the week before. If this was going to be the end, she desperately wanted to talk to him, one last time…

"You'll see him again, Rose."

She whipped her head around to stare at Rory. "What're you talkin' about?!" she spluttered.

He looked up at her in confusion from where he was setting down the tray. "I—wasn't—talking," he said slowly, as though he was starting to question her sanity yet again.

Her eyes drifted quickly toward her husband, then back to Rory. "You sure?" she demanded, abruptly. She could've sworn she heard a voice, his voice.

"Definitely," he replied, in the same wary tone.

Rose continued to gaze at John's still, pale face, watching and not daring to touch him as a trickle of sweat ran across his brown and down his cheek. "Mr. Williams," she said in a very soft voice. The male nurse was quiet behind her.

Rose had realized something in these last few minutes about Nurse Williams. He was a unique man. He didn't look like much, but he seemed to get everything right. Down to the very curtains that were still pulled back to block out the sun, and the breakfast he'd brought up for her. She didn't look up at him, but she had to ask a question. "D'ya ever pray for miracles?"

She could almost see the bewildered look on his face without looking. "Y—yeah," was the response, with him shrugging as if the answer had been obvious.

"Could you maybe do it now?" Rose asked, draping her arm over the chair as she continued to stare at John, "'Cause, I dunno; seems like you're the sort of man God would listen to."

"You know," Rory replied slowly, taking a chair himself and sitting down to face her, "He doesn't always say 'yes'."

Absentmindedly she rubbed the tip of her nose. She also decided to change the subject. "Why d'ya look out for people so much?" she shrugged. "I'd fink it'd get boring."

Rory looked just as surprised by this question as the last. "'Cause I'm gonna see them again!" he exclaimed. On second thought, he thrust his finger up toward the ceiling a bit—awkwardly again. "Something He does say."

Rose stared at him. "You just said that," she remarked, thoughtfully.

"Said what?"

"That I was gonna see 'im again," she pushed, trying to get him to remember. "Like, even if he died, I was gonna see him, again."

"I didn—I only said that one time," he raised his eyebrows slightly, mouth curving in a slight 'o' that said he had no idea what she was talking about.

Rose sat back in her chair with a huff. "Great. All this crap goin' on; my life's already a mess and now I'm hearin' voices in my head!"

Rory shrugged, rather unhelpfully.

Rose laughed at him. "Well, I'd better NOT be going mental, 'cause like you said, I've got kids to raise!" she lifted an eyebrow at him as he stood to leave. "And apparently a bet to win."

Rory flashed a rare grin. "You won't be winning it."

"Yeah, right," she shot back. Then her face changed. "And I just—wanna say, thanks—'cause you've done everything right, takin' care of 'im," she took a deep, shaky breath, "and I've done everyfin' wrong, and you've taken care of me, too."

He thought for a moment, hand on the doorknob, and shrugged expressively. "I guess—I was just supposed to help you out."

The nurse left, closing the door behind him. Rose smiled sideways at the door, not sure entirely what was going to happen with her or John, but at least knowing that as soon as he had another moment for them, Mr. Williams would have some solutions. He'd know what she should do.

"Keep looking."

"Wha?" her gaze snapped back up to the door, but the nurse was nowhere in sight. She really was hearing things!