Sullen
by M. F. LuderPart twelve
Seth crawls out of bed, a painful process considering the incentive is to visit a friend who won't recognize him, who won't even open his eyes. He tries to blink and rub the sleep from his eyes with little success. Dragging his feet to the bathroom, he empties his bladder before turning on the shower. Once the water isn't too warm, Seth sheds his pajama bottoms and the white-t, walking under the spray.
He closes his eyes, palm on the wall in front of him, his head leaning forward and lets the water run down his hair and face. He's tired, a sleepiness that lingers on the edge slowly being wiped away by the dripping water. After a moment, he opens his eyes and sighs.
The minutes tick by, the day moving forward even if he feels like staying behind and dreaming of a time when life was easy and simple, brighter, shades of gray barely visible around him. He pours shampoo on his hands and washes his hair.
Ryan once said, a long time ago now it seems, how his black curls suited him. You wouldn't be you with straight blond hair. Soap on the sponge makes white foam and Seth washes his chest. There's a small scar, a thin line that's barely visible if you squint really hard and know what you're looking, that's on the left side of his collarbone. It somehow appeared there two days after the fight at Holly's beach house, the night of the fashion show over a year ago.
Seth's pretty sure it happened there. He must have hit something, a rock or a twig maybe because the next day was filled with Ryan and him playing Nintendo throughout the day after the whole going home fiasco.
The next day Ryan tried to run away and Seth hid him in the model home. Another brilliant idea of his that hadn't actually worked the way it was supposed to. It hadn't protected Ryan, not the way Seth had wanted. It had landed Ryan in jail, one of his mom's model homes burned to the ground, and his grandfather close to hating Ryan at the first sight.
The day after that, Seth had woken up, taken a shower and felt the small crust of the scar before going to Juvie with his mom. Seth touches it briefly with soap covered fingers, thinking about how Ryan had his back then, protecting him even though Seth had been an ass to Ryan.
"Cohen?"
Seth jumps slightly, surprised out of his skin. He knows that voice, that tone and that clicking sound that Seth can imagine is a heel tapping the tile covered floor. He stands still, thinking maybe, just maybe, it's his mind playing tricks on him and if he doesn't move--
"Cohen?" Her tone changes to impatience. "Cohen, I know you're there. I can see you through the glass doors."
His hands move to his privates, covering them. "What are you doing here?"
"You dad opened the door, told me I could come upstairs. It's almost eleven in the morning, why are you just waking up?"
Seth shakes his head because, really, this can't quite be happening. "Summer--"
"Cohen, walk out of the shower. I want to talk to your face."
Seth sighs. Perfect. He opens the glass doors of the shower slightly, reaching out for a towel. He fumbles for a moment before his hand makes contacts and pulls the large towel to him. Seth hears Summer snorting as he ties it around his waist before pulling the door open.
"You don't have anything I haven't seen before, Cohen," she says with a small grin, her arms around her chest, her foot tapping. "And would you hurry? I have stuff to do this afternoon."
Seth rolls his eyes, his hand holding the towel in place, before picking up his t-shirt and pants and walking to his bedroom. "I'm pretty sure that when dad said upstairs, he meant wait in the hallway, or my bedroom if I was in the shower. Not actually--"
Summer waves it off. "Save it, Cohen. I've seen your ass naked, nothing new for me."
Seth throws his clothes onto the bed, walking to the closet and getting a pair of jeans, underwear and another shirt out. He turns around and Summer is sitting on the bed, staring at her nails critically.
"I think this color is very much last season." She sighs. "I so need to go tomorrow and have it changed, fixed. Something modern, maybe. Something that screams Milan."
Seth frowns, staring at her. It takes a moment before she lifts her eyes to him. "What?"
"Would you--?" Seth says, making a circular motion with his hands.
Summer blinks. "What?"
Seth sighs. "Turn around."
"Why?"
"I have to change."
"So?"
Seth wonders if Summer is being a pain in the butt or she actually doesn't get it. "Turn around, I have to change."
A snort from her. "I've told you, Cohen, there's nothing there--" she says, waving in general direction of his towel, "--that I haven't seen."
Seth sighs and counts to ten before turning around, dropping the towel and putting on underwear. Summer giggles behind him and he looks at her over his shoulder. "What?"
Summer shrugs nonchalantly. "Nothing. Keep going."
Seth rolls his eyes. Whatever.
"So," she says as Seth puts on his Niagara Falls shirt, "what happened?"
Seth frowns. "What? Wh--?"
"Yesterday? School?" Summer rolls her eyes. "I had to sit through Literature by myself Cohen, that wasn't very nice of you."
Seth swallows thickly and sighs. He sits down on the bed heavily and he feels the bed dipping as Summer scoots closer to him.
She places a hand on his shoulder. Her tone lowers, "Seth?"
Seth remembers closed eyes that should've stared back at him with blue intensity, lips that have no emotion and breathing that is controlled by translucent tubes and beeping machines around the room. He sighs, head hanging forward and whispers, "We found Ryan."
Seth drags his feet into the house, tiredness becoming one with his bones. His parents walk through the door after him, the air around them heavy, filled with pain, sorrow and silent regret.
Seth lets himself fall down on the couch, his limbs suddenly weigh a ton and are unbearable to lift. Seth thinks about steel limbs and remembers Wolverine, adamantium filling his bones and protecting him. Seth doesn't feel like that. He doesn't feel like he can take two SWAT guys on with only his claws. He feels like he's being torn open.
He invited Summer to go to the hospital with them, actually, but she refused because. She hadn't given him a reason, but he can assume she didn't want to be in the way. Seth hears movement around the kitchen. His parents are probably going to call for take out. It's almost ten.
Finally, they had asked the question they hadn't dared to until now. It had been the nurse Lexington, Andrea, she said they could call her, who had explained, what she knew. Bus accident, she had said. Bus accident over a month ago, on August the second.
Seth doesn't remember reading about a bus accident. He would have remembered. He knows he should have seen it, checked out the paper and seen the news there, printed in black ink and known. Just known it had to do with Ryan, that Ryan was involved. He should have known.
It was a bus coming to California from Seattle, and what in God's name was Ryan doing in Seattle in the first place? It had hit a Toyota sideways, or actually the Toyota had hit the bus. Whatever. The bus had skidded on the highway, the only day it had rained in August and Seth remembers that vaguely. It had skidded before tumbling over to the side.
Andrea didn't add much after that, but Seth has enough of an imagination and has seen enough movies to fill in the blanks. Seth can imagine crying and screaming. He can imagine fire at the back of the bus, smoke filling the inside of the bus as Ryan lies on the floor, leg trapped under a seat that would later require nails, asking for help but getting none. He can imagine Ryan at his wits end, trying to get out but not being able to.
There's more screaming outside, the rain falling against the windows. The scene Seth sees in his mind is too perfect to be part of a movie. And too harsh to be real.
Seth jumps in surprise, opening his eyes. He can't keep this up. He can't continue to try and recount what must have happened in his mind. He can't try and see Ryan's face in between the fire and the smoke, in between the crying and screaming, and feel this pain that consumes Seth inside out.
Taking deep, even breaths, Seth stands up, turning toward the kitchen when he sees his book, the book he has been reading for the past month, laying on the coffee table. Seth snorts. Reading is not really part of his agenda right now. He turns around and walks to the kitchen.
Kirsten sits on one of the stools, Sandy hugging her from behind. She's leaning her head on his chest and she closes her eyes, smelling the cologne in his suit.
She misses this. This feeling she always has around Sandy. She misses feeling this safe. Her heart seems to catch in her throat. She misses knowing her sons are safe. Her eyes dart to Seth, who takes a seat by the kitchen island, his own eyes cast down, picking at the bagels on the tray. She doesn't remember the last time Seth was this silent, this quiet. All through the month of Ryan's disappearance, of cou--
The thought alone, remembering that month they spent living on pins and needles, worrying about every little thing around them, wondering if maybe this would be the day when they'd find out about Ryan. It kills her. It kills her slowly inside.
She shakes her head. Seth hasn't been the same this past month. Neither has Sandy or her. They, as a family, aren't the same.
Sandy kisses her on the cheek, his breath against her temple as he leans in, his forehead resting against the side of her head. This comforting gesture makes her want to cry for more and find peace in his embrace. She wants him to hold her and never let her go. She wants to crawl into bed with him and never leave.
She wants to forget about all the pain she's been feeling, that feels like it'll stay with her forever, until the day Ryan opens his eyes and looks at her again.
She can't ask Sandy to be the rock for all of them. She has to take care of her husband, of her son who is suffering as much as she is, and of her other son, the one that needs her the most, to reach out to him and tell him that he's safe now, in her hands, in her care.
Her family needs her, and she'll be there for him. She takes a deep breath, Sandy's arm around her tightening as she looks at Seth. Seth doesn't say a word, only stares at the piece of bagel in his hands and she wonders when the last time her son laughed was. She doesn't remember. She can barely remember Seth's laughter, or Sandy's or her own.
But she remembers Ryan's. A low chuckle that meant ten times more because it was so rare. The duck of his head and the small smile that would grace his lips. She remembers Ryan's laughter, the sweet sound she misses at the moment. She remembers Ryan's smiles, treasures kept safe in her heart. She remembers Ryan's blue eyes staring at her lovingly.
She remembers, and she misses him even more because of that.
It's like they have their own places in the room. His mom sits by Ryan's side, taking his hand and whispering soft words Seth doesn't want to hear. He's pretty sure it'd hurt. His dad either stands behind his mom, arms around her shoulders or uses the chair that's on the other side of the room and sits with his mom. Either way, they are there.
Seth chooses to lean against a wall and stare at Ryan, Ryan's eyes are closed all the while, unblinking, unmoving, and it feels like seconds are ticking by slower than normal. So very slowly that a second can last for an hour and it feels like it has been Sunday, 3pm, the entire day. Even then, as Seth sees the grass grow, Ryan won't open his eyes.
He remembers the mumbled words, or maybe the mumbled memories, about brain injury and falling into a coma. There had to be a reason there, behind all that, but Seth doesn't know. He doesn't know enough.
Out of the blue, Seth can see smoke in the back of his mind. He can see smoke and fire, and people screaming though he can't see their faces. And between the mist and the darkness of the smoke filling the room, Seth sees Ryan's face, in pain, screaming for help though no sound comes out of his mouth.
Seth opens his eyes wide, pushing himself off the wall. He doesn't like this, he doesn't like remembering small scenes, shots from what could have must have happened. He has been doing this, going through small scenes, here and there, since last night. He dreamt about it last night.
He dreamt about the bus tipping over, hearing screaming inside and not being able to do anything but stand on the side and fucking stare. It was both frustration and pain that woke him up around four am and he couldn't go back to bed again.
Maybe that's why his eyes feel so tired. Maybe that's why his mind is playing tricks on him once again.
It likes to do that, his mind, to play tricks on him. That's one of the reasons he doesn't read horror books -- except the one he's reading at the moment and Seth wonders what he was thinking at the time.
He knows his own reaction to such things. He knows he'll stay up throughout the night, staring at the white ceiling and counting the dots where the paint isn't regular. He knows he won't be able to take a decent shower, afraid of closing his eyes because maybe, just maybe, when he opens them, something too gross for words will stand before him to scare the living lights out of him.
That's why he'd rather sleep and shower peacefully than spend time watching movies or reading books that will torture him during the day. Still, he's doing it. He's been reading that book and now, the thought itself of what must have happened to Ryan is even worse than one of the Stephen's novels. That's saying a lot.
His eyes shift to his parents, too engrossed in paying attention to Ryan. Seth doesn't mind. Instead, he turns around and leaves the room slowly.
It's Sunday afternoon. He should be doing his homework. He has Calculus homework due tomorrow which he hasn't touched yet. Seth does know that, even if he was in his house, staring at his opened books, he wouldn't do anything. His mind isn't there, not at the moment, and probably won't be as long as Ryan lies there, 'unaware of the world out there 'waiting for him, a life that's waiting for him to live it.
Looking at his right, his gaze falls on the nurse's station. There's a young woman, not much older than him, sitting by the counter going through some papers. It's not Andrea. Not Nurse Lexington. Seth sighs. She had told them about the accident, but she didn't tell them how she knew their name, how she knew to call them. He wants to ask her that. He needs her to tell him.
Seth looks on either side of the hallway, no sign of her and he sighs once again. Maybe later today, when he sees her. Not knowing what else to do, Seth walks down the hallway to the vending machines.
There's a woman sitting on one of the chairs, her head leaned forward, a can in her hand. It takes Seth a moment to recognize her and he almost smiles. He walks to the Cold Soda machine and slides in a dollar bill. The can falls down with a clink and he bends over to retreat it.
"Seth?"
Looking over his shoulder as he stands, Seth sees the woman, Sarah, staring at him with a confused expression. "Seth," she repeats, "right?"
"Yeah," he says, extending his hand, "Sarah?"
Sarah nods, smiling slightly. "Yeah, Sarah." Her hand waves in his general direction. "I thought you'd left."
Seth's throat tightens and he ducks his head, shaking. "No, no. I--"
"Oh, sorry. I didn't." She sighs, running a hand through her dark hair. "I'm an idiot, sorry. It's not like either of us is here for pleasure, you know?"
Seth nods slowly, taking a seat by her side, looking down at the floor. He remembers being in a very similar situation with Ryan, sitting side by side in a hospital waiting room, neither of the knowing what to say. He swallows thickly.
Luke had gotten shot during the fight, as Ryan and Donnie had wrestled. Luke had gotten shot, but it could have been Ryan there. If Donnie had made a sudden move, if he had pulled the trigger accidentally while they were both on the floor, aiming at Ryan-- Ryan could have gotten shot. Ryan could have died there. He could have.
Seth remembers how agonizing it had been, the ten seconds the fight had lasted before the shot had been fired. Ten seconds that had felt like a lifetime as Seth remembered all the movies he had seen where one of the guys fighting for the gun was shot.
It could have been Ryan, and Seth wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. He shakes his head, the back of his eyes stinging and his head hurting.
"You ok?"
A hand touches his shoulder and Seth looks up at Sarah. "Yeah, yeah," his voice is hoarse and he doesn't believe himself. "I'm fine."
Apparently, neither does she. She lifts an eyebrow, tilting her head and there's doubt plainly written across her face. The stance itself looks like one of Ryan's. Seth's head hurts ten times worse.
"I'm just..." He shrugs. "Like you said, we're not here for pleasure."
She nods. "I know."
They fall into silence and Sarah wonders about this boy, this kid who can't even be legal sitting there with her, agonizing over someone who shouldn't be in the ICU any more than Emma should.
Sarah sighs, wishing she was older, or possessed more wisdom to know exactly what to tell him to make him feel better. "Are you here alone?"
The words leave her mouth before she can stop herself. Idiot, really. Who asks that?
It takes a moment for Seth's brain to register the question before he shakes his head. "No, no. Hmm. My parents... they're in the room right now. I left because..."
"To get some fresh air?"
Seth looks at her over his shoulder and she's smiling. A small smile that doesn't promise things that might not be true, just a smile that understands. "Yes," he says, nodding slowly. "Yeah."
"I know." She sighs, leaning back against the chair, head hanging back and eyes almost closed. "It gets tiresome after a while, being here. It feels like the walls are closing in around you and you want to leave, but you can't, because there's someone here that needs you and you don't want to let them down. So you stay, and it hurts even more."
After a second, Sarah chuckles. Who is she to tell the kid what he's feeling? It's not like he wants to know about her, or about Emma. Still, Seth looks at her, at her chuckling face though the sound is more ironic than amused.
"Who is--?" Seth clears his throat. There's no easy way to ask this. "Are you here-- who are you--?"
Sarah takes pity on his pain, knowing exactly what he wants to ask, though she doesn't know exactly how to answer this. A friend would be a lie, an underestimation Emma doesn't deserve. And if she says her wife, she fears she might scare the kid. Oh, what the hell.
"My wife," she says, turning to look him in the eye as she pronounces those words.
Seth is no idiot, not really, at least not every day. And today is not one of those days. "Oh," he says, slightly surprised because he couldn't have imagined this girl had a girlfriend. Not that he knows that much about it, or has a way of knowing anything like that at all. "Oh," he repeats before nodding. "Is she okay?"
A smile forms slowly on her lips, enjoying the feeling. It has been such a long time since someone has reacted this calmly, this... normal about it. Like Sarah's talking about pets, or books. She likes that. She likes this kid. And though she shouldn't be smiling because of the question he asked, she can't help it.
And then, she remembers Emma, in the hospital bed, head tilted the side, her red hair falling around her, pain around the edges of her sweet face. The smile dies on her lips and she shakes her head. "No," Sarah says, "she isn't."
Seth nods, understanding. It's silly of her to want to talk with this kid, this boy. It's silly of her to want to trust him. But she does, and somehow it doesn't feel that weird.
"She's..." Sarah swallows, clearing her throat. She didn't know it'd be this hard to talk to someone about this, even though Emma's already out of the woods, so to speak. "She was in a car accident," Sarah says after a moment. She snorts, irony in her tone. "She was coming home from Seattle, a meeting she had there with a client."
"Seattle?"
Sarah turns to her right, looking at Seth. He's frowning. "Yeah, Seattle." She pauses, choosing her words slowly. "There was an accident. She hates flying, you know? She was coming home, finally, by bus and then--"
"Seattle - California? About a month ago?"
Sarah nods and she knows there's something else to this. He doesn't just know that, or remember that information from the paper. Seth's eyes open wide. "Oh, God."
"Seth?"
"I just. I never thought there could be anyone else. Stupid of me, I know, but still. I just didn't--"
"Anyone? What do you--?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry. I'm probably not making any sense, am I?"
Sarah smiles in spite of herself. "No, you aren't."
"It's just." Seth shrugs, not knowing what else to do. "That accident, that bus thing... my--"
Seth pauses in mid word. He couldn't really explain what Ryan is to him. He thinks he just hasn't learned how. Friend isn't quite true and not nearly strong enough. Brother isn't accurate and implies a blood tie they don't have. Both words sound wrong, are wrong, and it's at times like this when Seth doesn't know what to say. He hasn't faced many situations like this, mind you.
In Newport, everyone thought Ryan was his cousin from Boston or Canada or something, and then, when things came out -- because of him and his big mouth, thank you very much -- everyone just kinda new the truth.
Actually, he had never had to introduce Ryan. His grandpa knew the truth, so did Nana. And though he has never faced this kind of situation, he has thought about it, long and hard, and could never come up with an answer that would please him. Seth thinks this will be one of those times.
"My..." Seth trails off, chuckling as he does so. "Wow, this is hard."
Sarah tilts her head, the corners of her lips curling upwards and her mind screams Coming out! "Is it a he?"
Seth nods slowly, biting down his lower lip.
She can't keep the grin off her lips. "Oh, then, it's cool. Your boyfriend--"
"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Hold on a second there, woman. Hold your horses." Seth turns to look at her. She's grinning and Seth can imagine exactly what she's thinking. "No, no, no, no. It's not like that. Not at all." He shakes his head, the words coming out quickly. "No, no, no, no."
Sarah frowns, her eyes boring into his. Weird, she could have thought she saw... something there. Oh, well. It wouldn't be the first time her gaydar malfunctioned. Emma's way better at this than she ever was. She chuckles, breaking the moment as Seth keeps on shaking his head. "It's okay. I was wrong, sorry."
Seth pauses, looking at her before nodding. "Yeah, well, as long as that's clear. I have a girlfriend." He frowns. "Well, had a girlfriend. We kinda drifted apart." Seth bites his lip, grimacing. "More like I drifted apart. Or sailed away." He shakes his head. "Either way, it's not like that. Not with Ryan."
"Ryan?"
"Yeah, Ryan." The word makes Seth's smile soften. "He's like... he was in the same accident, I think."
"The bus accident?"
Seth nods. "Yeah, we just found out, a couple of days ago. We didn't know." He sighs. "We thought Ryan was lost, 'cause he didn't call or anything, and we had no idea where he was. And then, this nurse called, said he was here and we came. That was three days ago."
He sighs. That was it, in a nutshell. Seth kept the rest of the story to himself, meeting Ryan and becoming a new person, Ryan falling for Marissa and everything that came with that. Theresa returning, Theresa getting pregnant and Ryan going back to Chino. Losing Ryan that first time. Losing Ryan a second time when they couldn't find him. The pain, the agony. The liberation of knowing where Ryan was. Then the sorrow for Ryan's suffering.
"That nurse," Seth continues, "Andrea, I think her name is, she said they couldn't find any ID on Ryan and that's why they didn't call before."
"Your friend had no ID?"
"No."
Sarah nods, remembering the words she had heard through out the month. "I remember him. Well, I have never seen him, but I've heard of him. A kid with no ID."
A kid in coma with no ID.
She remembers that. Sarah's pretty sure Seth would rather not talk about that. And so, she focuses their attention on a matter she wants to know more about. "So, this kid... is he your friend?"
Seth chuckles, almost nervously, shaking his head. "It's not like that, I told you."
"Okay, okay. I'm not saying anything."
"It's like-- it's a long story."
Sarah smiles. "I've got time. They took Emma for some lab work and tests, so I'm free."
Seth tilts his head, looking at her. "You sure?"
"Yep. I want to know the whole story."
Seth nods, and he begins. The story of Ryan and Seth.
She told herself she'd only stop by for a minute during lunch hour. Arriving at one, early Monday afternoon, she told herself she'd stay for half an hour, be back at the office around two. She has been here over an hour, and it takes her a great effort to think about leaving.
She smiles, the corners of her lips curling upward as she pats Ryan's hand. Kirsten caresses it slowly, tilting her head and looking at him. She knows she's been doing this the past few days, sitting here and staring. She doesn't know what else to do. She doesn't know if there's anything else she can do.
She sits here, looking at her son and wishing she had done something differently. It might be wrong of her, but Kristen wishes she hadn't talked with Theresa. If she hadn't insisted Theresa make an informed decision, Ryan wouldn't have left, and they wouldn't be in this situation.
If Sandy had stopped Ryan-- If she had stopped Ryan--
There are too many ifs to consider, and she knows this. Still her heart aches for the son who's hurting and she can't do anything about it.
The sound of the door opening catches Kirsten's attention and she looks over her shoulder. It's Nurse Lexington, though she has asked to be called Andrea, walking in. She smiles at Kirsten, tilting her head slightly and Kirsten can almost see the bags under her eyes. Pulling a double shift, Kirsten can imagine, watching ER finally paying off.
"Excuse me," Andrea says, "I need to check his vitals."
Kirsten nods, her eyes shifting back to Ryan. She hears Andrea walking around, checking the machines and writing down on what Kirsten can only imagine 'is his chart.
"Is he okay?"
The words come out of her mouth before she can stop them. Kirsten looks up Andrea, a plea in her eyes.
Andrea nods. "Yes, he is. He's stable, his breathing and heartbeat regular, though he still needs the oxygen tube. Everything looks alright."
Kirsten nods, letting out a soft sigh through her parted lips. He's fine. She's glad for that small miracle. "How long has he been...?" Kirsten trails off, the word tasting bitter on her tongue even before she pronounces it.
"Comatose?"
Kristen nods.
"Dr. Campbell declared him comatose on August 6th."
A month ago from today. A month. Ryan has spent all this time alone? Kirsten closes her eyes in pain.
Silence falls over them and Andrea, though knowing she should leave the woman to her own pain, 'isn't able to. After a moment, Andrea sighs and speaks up. "He's doing better."
Kirsten turns around and looks at Andrea. "Really?"
Andrea nods. "His leg and shoulder blade are healing steadily. He hasn't had any blood clots or pressure dropping."
"That's good."
"Yes," Andrea says, "it is."
Looking around, Andrea sees the beige empty walls, coldness around the room. She remembers a while ago, the way a patient's wife had brought balloons and cards, paintings from back home, making the room feel a little bit cozier. Maybe Mrs. Cohen would like that.
"You can bring some thing from home," Andrea says slowly, turning to look at Kirsten. "To make the room more... comfortable. Homier." She shrugs. "There's nothing in hospital policy about cards or balloons."
Kirsten stares back at Andrea, a firm smile on her lips, decision plainly written on her face.
"No, thank you." She says, shaking her head slightly before turning to look at Ryan once again. "I don't think we'll need that. My son, he's very strong. The strongest of us all. I know him. He won't stay here long." Kirsten pauses, nodding mostly to herself. "Yes, he'll wake up soon. I know it."
Andrea nods, recognizing stubbornness when she sees it. She has seen many cases and this 'wouldn't be the first comatose patient to take his time to wake up, or so she believes.
His vitals, though strong and regular, say nothing about the ability of his body to cope. It might take him another month, a year, ten years. No one really knows. Not Andrea, not Dr. Campbell and certainly not Mrs. Cohen. She might want her son to wake up and be the same kid he used to be, but there are no guarantees. Andrea knows this, and she also knows that mothers never give up on their children. Mrs. Cohen won't be different. Andrea only hopes the woman and the rest of the family don't suffer. "It's alright. I just thought I'd mention it."
Kirsten nods once again, looking over her shoulder at Andrea. "Thanks," she says, "for everything."
Andrea smiles. "You're welcome." After a moment, she turns around and leaves the room, closing the door after her.
Kirsten pats Ryan's hand once again, her eyes staring at his closed eyelids. Another ten more minutes and then, she'd go. Just ten more minutes, to watch her son. And then, she'll go.
Seth taps his pen against the edge of his seat in Calculus. He tiredness and sleepiness linger at the edges of his already blurry mind and he shakes his head. He stayed up until two am last night in order to get both his algebra and calculus homework done. Now, at ten to three, Seth can't wait for the class to be over so he can finally leave.
"Bored already?"
"Yeah, well, double integrals aren't really all that fun, you know?" Seth sighs. "They're quite boring, actually."
"At least," Summer says, looking down at her Calvin Klein watch, "only ten more minutes to go."
"Weird, I could have sworn it was ten to three two hours ago."
Seth sighs. Summer continues doodling along the corners of her notebook while Seth stares off into space. Minutes tick by, the teacher's words blown away by the wind since they don't reach Seth's ears. Finally, about a lifetime later, the bell rings and Seth can't pack his things quickly enough.
"What are you doing this afternoon, Cohen?" Summer asks, checking her cell phone before clicking it shut. "I thought we could go to a movie, get a manicure, an exfoliation? Something? I'm bored to death. Coop has been--"
Seth shakes his head. "Sorry, I can't. I'm going to the hospital."
"Oh." Summer frowns before nodding. "Yeah, right, Chino. It's okay. I can hang out with Coop, if she isn't too drunk." Summer rolls her eyes.
Seth nods, zipping his backpack and sliding it across his chest. "Cool. I'll see you then."
Seth turns around and leaves in a hurry, bag slung across his chest, money in his pocket for lunch on the way to the hospital and the idea of seeing Ryan carved into his mind.
Andrea sighs, closing the door of Mr. Potter's room. He'll leave tomorrow morning, things already arranged. She smiles. She's happy for him, after everything that has happened. At least one of the four patients from the bus accident can finally go home.
Slowly, she makes her way to the nurse's station from room 530, chart in her hands. Her eyes glance at the closed door of 524 as she passes through. Kerrie's sitting at the nurse's station, nose in a book.
Andrea smiles. "Doing your job, Nurse Langley?"
Kerrie jumps, turning around and closing the book as she does so. Seeing Andrea leaning against the entrance to the nurse station, arms folded over her chest and laughing quietly, Kerrie glares at her. "Very funny." Relaxed, Kerrie turns around in her chair and picks up her fallen book.
"What were you doing?"
Kerrie rolls her eyes. "Reading, what else? I've seen you read, those PI books you're so fond of."
"That's different," Andrea says, walking around Kerrie and reaching for the book. Andrea chuckles, low in her throat as not to disturb the patients, and turns the book around in her hand.
"Give me that!"
"Shh! The patients."
Kerrie sighs, pouting, and she folds her arms over her chest.
Andrea looks up at her, and Kerrie's behavior reminds Andrea that the girl is only twenty-three years old, barely a year out of school. With a grin, Andrea looks down at the book, a white sheet of paper covering the cover of the same. Opening the book to the first page, she reads, "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire". Andrea laughs, the sound loud in her throat before she covers her wide-open mouth with her palm to muffle the sound.
"Andrea!"
There's indignation in Kerrie's tone, though her name is spoken quietly. "Sorry, sorry, really," Andrea says in between chuckles, trying to keep her cool. "But, sweetie, really. Harry Potter?"
"It's not just for kids."
"Who has lied to you so bashfully?" Andrea says with a grin.
Kerrie glares.
"Okay, okay, I didn't say anything." She gives Kerrie back her book, the corners of her lips curling upward against her will. "Don't read here during the day."
"You do!"
Andrea shakes her head. "No, sweetie, actually, I only do it during the night, or very early in the morning, when there's no one around. It's unprofessional if the members of the families see us reading while their loved ones are hurting."
Kerrie nods after a moment, sighing. She closes her book, bending over and opening a drawer on the left side of the station, where they keep their personal items. She unzips her backpack and places the book inside.
"There," she declares, standing up right, "gone." She smiles.
Andrea nods. "Nice."
"But you do read."
She rolls her eyes. "Yes, I do," Andrea replies, "but it's one thing to read police books and something entirely different for a children's book."
"Harry Potter is not only for children."
"So you keep saying."
Kerrie rolls her eyes. "I'm serious. The books are amazing. This is the fourth in the series and I can't put it down. You should read it."
"Hmpf."
The answer is more than enough for Kerrie. "Whatever."
Andrea smiles, placing Mr. Potter's chart in with the rest and her eyes flicker to the closed door of room 524. She remembers Mrs. Cohen sitting by her son's bed, her hand grasping his, hope in her eyes. She believes her son will wake up. She believes it won't be long. Andrea knows differently. Though hope is the last flicker of flame, smoldering until the end of time under a blazing storm, Andrea knows it won't last forever.
The boy -- Ryan, she has to get used to the name -- has been in a coma for almost a month. Every day that ticks by is another drip of wax roaring away as the candle burns. Mothers are the last ones standing for their children, always. Mothers are the last ones coming to the hospital, to watch over their children. It hurts Andrea to see the woman in this situation, so certain of her son's strength, opposed to any other outcome.
"Do you know if Mrs. Cohen has left?" Andrea asks, talking over her shoulder as she tears her eyes away from the closed door. She smiles softly, "if you weren't too deep into that book, that is."
Kerrie only glares at Andrea. "Yes, in fact, she left about ten minutes ago." She checks her watch. "It's three thirty. She stayed quite a long time."
Andrea nods idly. "Over three hours, yes."
Kerrie frowns. She doesn't remember the exact time Mrs. Cohen arrived. "I would've thought she was working."
"I presume she was," Andrea says out of the blue. "I think she wanted to see her son for a minute."
"Do you know anything about the last name thing? If he's her son, why is he named Atwood and not Cohen?"
Though information is a priority in this line of work, Andrea doesn't believe in gossip. Still, there are cases like this, that can't help but peak her curiosity. She does wonder about that herself, about this boy who was almost lost to loving parents and a worried brother.
"I don't know," Andrea says. "I could never ask her something like that." She turns to look at Kerrie, one eyebrow lifted. "Neither would you, right?"
Kerrie sighs in exasperation. "I'm curious, not an idiot, Andrea. Who do you take me for? That's personal. I would love to know, but I can't ask her."
Andrea nods, proud of the young woman. "I'm glad." She sighs, reaching for Mrs. Sullivan's chart to check on her vitals. "I'll make another round," Andrea says, leaving the station.
"Sure. I'll hold the fort."
Andrea rolls her eyes as she walks down the hallway, Kerrie staring at her back before sighing. Her hand itches to reach for her book and keep on reading, having left off as the muggles were being dangled in the air and the boys went into the woods, running into Malfoy in the process. She can't help but wonder what would happen next. But Kerrie knows Andrea, and if Andrea finds her with her nose in the book once again, she'll end up being yelled at. Kerrie hates that.
And so, she sighs again, turns around and reaches for the charts to transcribe 'the day's vitals. Writing down Mrs. Anderson's BP, she hears the elevator doors open, paying no attention to them whatsoever.
Seth walks out of the elevator, backpack slung across his chest. He makes his way down the hallway, walking past 524, Emma's room. The door is ajar and Seth knows Sarah's inside, keeping her girl company. He smiles slightly, something nice and loving in the thought he can't really explain.
The nurse's station is only twenty feet from the room and Seth sees the other nurse, not Andrea, the other one. The young one, sitting there, head down as she writes on some papers. Seth frowns, trying to remember her name. Kerrie... something, he thinks. But it's Kerrie. He should ask her name, get it right. If he ever needs anything, if Ryan ever needs anything, it wouldn't be nice to call out, Hey, Nurse! So, yeah, Seth should ask her about her name.
Pushing the door open, he walks into the room, head tilting slightly to the side as he closes the door after him. Nothing in Ryan has changed. Not his appearance, there still are those blue and yellow shadows across Ryan's left cheek and temple, or his condition, blue eyes closed.
Seth sighs, leaning back against the door for a moment. He closes his eyes and it's so easy to see Ryan smiling at him, blue eyes shining at something stupid Seth has said that made Ryan laugh. It's so easy. When he opens them, Ryan's lying down in a bed that seems to big for him, the late afternoon sunrays shining in through the open curtains and the light seems all wrong. The pool house has better lighting, and the bed there seems softer, not this harsh, this wrong. Ryan's sheets are white, not the beige they pull of as white in this place. And Ryan is more lively, not this... dead.
Seth takes deep even breathes as he feels his lungs crashing in on him. It wasn't supposed to be like this, to hurt like this. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Seth was supposed to come home to find Ryan already there. He was supposed to get grounded and Ryan would share the punishment with him because that's the type of guy Ryan is. They would stay up late watching TV because there was no Playstation to play with. They were supposed to return to school together. Things were supposed to be different.
He sighs, his chest tight and, with a trembling hand, he reaches out for the back of the chair that's pulled up beside Ryan's bed. He grips it tightly, head leaning forward as he tries to breathe.
It takes him a moment, but finally he can feel his lungs filling with air. He pulls his bag off his chest and takes a seat. His mom usually takes this seat. So far, in the five days he's been coming over, he has never taken a seat. It feels weird to look at Ryan from this perspective.
His eyes gaze at his friend, taking in all the small details of Ryan's face that Seth hadn't noticed. There's a cut above his eyebrow. The bruises on his cheek are fading, slowly, but fading. Seth wonders how they looked like when Ryan first got here. That was a month ago, and they are still there, lingering. He decides he really doesn't want to know. There are scrapes around Ryan's face. On his right cheekbone, on his jaw and on his neck. Around his ears. Scrapes and bruises all around Ryan's face probably, that day after the accident.
He remembers a few words the doctor told them that first night, and those words are enough.
There's a cast on Ryan's left shoulder blade, another one that starts on Ryan's elbow all the way down to before his wrist. His left leg is pulled up by a set of strings and poles hang from the ceiling, irons coming out of Ryan's leg at weird angles.
Ryan blew out his knee, that Seth remembers. He blew out his knee in the accident. His leg needed more than just a cast. It needed to be entirely readjusted. Broken in three places. Seth winces as he imagines how much it must have hurt. His right hand didn't come out untouched either. There's a cast around it, all the way up to mid forearm.
Seth sighs, hiding his face in his hands as he rests his elbows on his knees. He should be able to do something, say something to Ryan. His mom talked to Ryan while she sat there. Seth peers through his fingers at Ryan's unconscious form. He doesn't know what to tell him. He doesn't even know if he should speak at all. Swallowing, he tries to come up with something to say. Anything really, but words fail him.
What do you say to someone in a coma? Can they even hear you? Can Ryan hear him? Is he aware behind his closed eyes? It's stupid, really, to think this, but Seth has no idea what to think.
And so, in despair and at his wits end, he stands up and walks out of the room. He turns to the left and heads down the hallway to the vending machine that has become his best friend.
After buying a Coke, he sits down on one of the plastic chairs, closes his eyes, hangs his head back and pretends time doesn't move around him.
Seth doesn't know how long he's been sitting there, trying to make heads and tails of this thing, but having no success whatsoever. Long, maybe. Very long.
His hand is numb and it's the can's fault. He stares down at it, at his left hand, which actually hurts from the cold, and shifts the can to his right hand. He tries flexing his fingers but it hurts, so he stops. It'll take a minute, but his hand will be as good as new soon, in a minute, as soon as his heart beats enough blood back into the area to warm him up.
He checks his watch and though he doesn't know exactly when he arrived, it's four thirty. He' has probably been sitting there for ten minutes, maybe twenty. Something like that.
He stands up, tired and a little bit edgy, and walks down the hallway, looking over his shoulder at the ajar door of room 524.
Footsteps outside the room calling her attention, Sarah turns to look out the door, seeing a boy's silhouette as he walks pass. "Seth?"
The boy turns around and she can't help but smile.
She waves at him. "Hey, come on in."
Turning to look at Emma, who has an eyebrow raised in confusion, Sarah grins as Seth stands by the threshold. Chuckling, she stands up and walks to the door.
He looks out of place, uncomfortable and all those things he really shouldn't. And so, she pushes the door open and practically drags him in by the shoulder. Seth doesn't look so cool with that. Oh, well, one must force things at times, right? Sarah nods to herself.
"I don't think you've met Emma," she says, walking around Seth to Emma's side and taking Emma's hand in hers. "Seth, this is Emma. Emma, this is--"
"Seth, yes Sarah, I know." Emma rolls her eyes at Sarah. "Forgive her. She seems to be on a sugar rush and that only means one thing--"
"I haven't been drinking Coke!"
Emma snorts, the action making her cough and Sarah takes a step closer to her, her hand on Emma's shoulder.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Emma grumbles, trying to keep her composure. "Stupid lungs. They need to get their act together."
"Are you sure--?"
Emma nods. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. I'm great." She sighs, swallowing thickly and she's thankful she doesn't start coughing again. "I'm fine."
Taking a deep breath -- that doesn't turn into a coughing fit, thank God -- she turns to look at Seth, the young boy with puppy dog eyes that stands before their door, almost ready to bolt. Emma wonders where Sarah meets these kind of guys, always afraid of her. She's the one in the hospital bed, it should be the other way around. Well, Sarah did always have a thing for stray puppies, didn't she?
"So," Emma says after a moment, "you're Seth."
Seth nods slowly, lips pressed together tightly and he wonders what was he thinking when he let Sarah pull him into the room.
"I would offer you my hand but this IV thing is getting in the way." Emma lifts her right hand, IV tube attached to the back of her palm. Seth gives her a small, sad smile. Silence falls between them and Emma ponders the boy's communication skills. "Sarah said you were here visiting a..." She trails off, her eyes shifting to Sarah and she nods. Yes, Emma remembers most of the story. Quite a tale, as well.
"It's... complicated," Seth says, frowning slightly.
"So I've been told."
Emma grins. Sarah smiles. Seth stares at the floor. Emma sighs. This boy... really, what's up with him? And as much as she'd love to figure that out -- a puzzle is always nicely received -- Emma knows Sarah is better at this. People seem to open up to her. Looking at Sarah, she gives her a small smile before nodding. It takes Sarah a moment to understand, and she nods back.
"Well, I'm sorry to make this visit short," Emma says almost sarcastically, "but I have to rest. Doctors orders and all that."
Seth nods. "Yeah, sure, I'll just--"
"Now," Emma continues as if she hadn't been interrupted, "if you and Sarah would leave, I'll take my afternoon nap."
Seth blinks, confused, as Sarah leans over and kisses Emma on the lips.
"I won't be long," Sarah whispers as she rests her forehead against Emma's.
"A nap would do me good. Don't worry."
Sarah nods, giving Emma another small kiss before straightening and turning around. "You heard the lady," she says, hands flat on Seth's shoulders, pushing him out of the room. "Out. Out. Out."
Seth barely complains and, looking over her shoulder, Sarah blows a kiss at Emma before exiting the room.
Emma sighs as the door closes behind her wife and her new friend. The boy seems nice, sure. A little bit self-conscious and shy, though Sarah had told her Seth seemed anything but. Emma snorts and has to press her lips tightly together for a coughing fit to stop before it even begins.
Making friends in a hospital? Only Sarah. With another sigh, Emma turns her head to the left, closes her eyes and tries to relax her breathing to catch a couple of minutes of sleep.
Standing outside the room, Sarah leans against the wall and tilts her head, staring at Seth as she does so.
"Can I just ask, what happened to you?" Sarah tries to catch his eyes, but Seth keeps eyeing the carpet like it holds all the secrets of the universe. "Yesterday, you couldn't stop speaking. I had to hit pause before you let me have a word in the conversation and now..."
"I know, I know." Seth sighs, closing his eyes. He places his hands in his pockets and tries to grasp something, one of the little things that are bouncing off the walls inside of him. Opening his eyes, he turns around to look at Sarah. The back of his eyes sting.
"Seth."
Seth shrugs helplessly, as if trying to explain. "I don't--" Seth chuckles, no humor in his tone. "I can't--"
Sarah nods slowly, things falling into place.
Powerless. Impotent. Helpless. Weak.
All those things Seth is feeling. All those things Sarah felt as she stared at Emma and willed her to open her eyes and be the person Sarah fell in love with. Sarah knows. Giving him a sad smile, she does the only thing she can think of -- the only thing that would have helped her, had there been someone with her. She takes a step toward him and places her arms around him.
Seth lets his weight go and hugs her back, hiding his face in the hollow of her neck. He doesn't cry because, some how, Seth fears 'he'll run out of everything that's inside him. He's already cried once in Summer's arms, then again when he first saw Ryan. Seth doesn't think he can handle another breakdown. Still, the embrace takes some of the weight off his shoulders and he sighs in Sarah's arms.
"I'm sorry," he whispers after a minute, pulling away. She doesn't let him go, no more than at arm's length. "I shouldn't have interrupted. I'm sure you want to be with Emma--"
Sarah shakes her head. "Yes, I love her, but she's tired and she knows you need my help right now."
Seth gives her a self-deprecating smile. "I'm that pathetic, huh?"
"No, Seth, not pathetic." She reaches out and caresses his cheek. "You're sad, and alone, and that takes a toll on someone."
"You did fine."
Sarah takes a deep breath before letting out slowly through her lips. "Not exactly."
"I can't believe--"
"What if we take this somewhere more privately?" Sarah asks, looking around them.
Seth realizes they are still standing in the middle of the hallway and chuckles. "Yeah, dude, you're right."
With Emma sleeping, the only place left for them to go that's not the waiting area, is room 526. Seth sighs. Ryan's room is only ten feet from Emma's and, reaching the door, Seth pushes it open.
It feels weird entering the room with someone who isn't his parents, but Seth pushes the feeling aside. Walking slowly, he takes his seat by Ryan's bedside as Sarah stands by his side. Seth smiles.
"This is Ryan," he says in a whisper.
Sarah's eyes fall on the boy lying down on the bed, eyes closed, and she's reminded of Emma only weeks ago. Her heart tightens in her chest and it takes her a moment for her breathing to regulate once again.
"He looks like he's in pretty bad shape," Seth says, tilting his head as he stares at Ryan's bruised cheek, "but that's not weird for him. Hmm, sometimes, I mean. He's gotten into his share of fights, sure, as have I. Or, actually, he has helped me out of fights. Hmm. Whatever. That's stuff for another day, you know?"
Sarah chuckles. "Yes, sure."
"He's really cool." He looks over his shoulder to gaze at Sarah for a moment. "Did I tell you about the time we went to Tijuana?"
This time, she laughs, her mouth wide open and she shakes her head. "No, no you didn't. But I can picture it."
"It was nothing like you're thinking, I can tell you that. It was--" Seth sighs. "So much more. It was amazing."
"I'm sure it was."
"Ryan didn't want to go." The corners of Seth's lips curl upward. "We weren't going to tell our parents. I was going to say we were going to ComiCon, which I go to every single year, or used to go. Well, you get my point." Seth swallows. "He didn't want to lie to mom and dad, that's why he didn't want to go. I offered to do the lying for him, so they would ground me and not him. It worked."
Seth pauses, his eyes fixed on Ryan's face. Sarah wonders if Seth even realizes she's still there.
"And you went," she says after a moment, bringing him back to the here and now.
"Oh, yeah, we went." Seth almost smiles. "It wasn't as much fun as I had thought it would be, though, 'cause... well, things got a little bit out of control. The car got a little bit messed up 'cause Summer, my ex, though at the time we were just friends, and me fought for the wheel. Long story, really." Seth shakes his head. "No, it didn't go as planned, but it was cool."
Seth nods, his hand reaching for Ryan's, very much like his mom has been doing these past few days. His fingers brush against the edge of the cast, the plaster cold and rough under his fingertips.
Sarah tilts her head, eyes falling onto Ryan. Even with the shadow of a shiner on his cheek, eyes closed and paler than Sarah imagines he is, the boy looks handsome.
The way Seth runs one finger over the back of Ryan's palm, it makes Sarah wonder about more than brotherly feelings. Seth has denied it, of course, but then again, it's not always easy to see something that shouldn't be there, not logically. Didn't the same thing happen with her and Emma? And she remembers the feeling of hopelessness vividly.
Placing a hand on Seth's shoulder, she whispers, "Seth?"
He blinks himself out of his stupor, of the loss of focus he experienced for a few moments, and sighs. Laying Ryan's hand on top of the covers, Seth sighs. "I don't know what to do."
Sarah frowns, not really understanding Seth's words. "What--?"
He looks over his shoulder at her. "When I sit here. I just... I sit here, or stand by the wall or whatever and I don't-- what can I do? I can't make this better, I'm not a doctor. I don't even know what Ryan has, not really. I can't remember a word the doc--"
"I know." She squeezes Seth's shoulder. "I know." She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose and she feels her head starting to pound behind her forehead.
She takes a deep breath and the pounding subsides.
"When they first told me about Emma," Sarah starts, "I was a wreck. I came here, sat outside the OR and did my best not to make much noise as I cried. It was awful. I thought--" Her heart still complains while remembering such a time. "I thought I'd lost her," her voice quivers as she says it.
Seth nods, knowing the feeling.
"She was in there for hours. I think they only moved her down here around five or six in the morning. I sat outside surgery for four hours, I think. It felt like a lifetime." She picks at a thread on the edge of her sweatshirt. "I felt useless."
Another nod. Exactly.
"And then... she was in a coma for a few days, did I ever tell you that?" Sarah waits for Seth to shake his head before continuing. "She was. A whole week. The worst seven days I've had to live through." She lets out a shaky sigh. "I don't know how you're doing it."
Seth chuckles, irony in his tone. "I'm not."
"I know how you're feeling," Sarah repeats, running a hand through her hair before scratching the base of her scalp. "I sat there and tried to breath. I couldn't."
They both know that pain. Seth tries not to envy her. Sarah wills herself not to pity him.
"How can I sit here?" Seth stops, and then adds as an after thought, "Here, with him, and pretend he's alright? I can't talk to him. Can he listen? Is he there, listening to me? Does he know what I'm sa--?"
"We have no way of knowing if he can hear you, or if he understands."
"Then why--"
"Because it's the best we've got." Sarah sighs, taking a step closer to the bed. That boy, there, so very much like Emma, it hurts.
"How can it be the best if he might not be listening?"
Sarah shakes her head, a sad smile curling her lips. "It's the best for us."
Blinking, Seth frowns. "How?"
"It gives us something to do. It gives us a sense of normalcy." She shrugs. "I don't really know, but it helps. I... I used to talk to her. Tell her something I remembered, something that had happened sometime ago I like to talk about." Another shrug. "I don't know." She pauses. "I read to her."
"Really?"
Sarah nods. "Yeah, I read to her. Her books, of course, which I could barely understand. She has this thing about poetry and Sartre and Baudelaire." Sarah chuckles, shaking her head. "I could barely understand a word they were saying. She's the scholar, you know? Not me." She nods slowly, remembering. "I thought she might like that, to hear my voice."
Seth pauses, thinking about his words carefully. "Did she-- did she know? Did she remember?"
Sarah had asked Emma about that a few days after she woke up. "She didn't remember. Not what I read, but she said she remembered my voice. Like she had dreamt about it." She shrugs. "It was enough for me."
Seth turns around, eyes falling onto Ryan. Yes, it is enough for him.
Placing her hand on Seth's shoulder once again, she squeezes. "You don't have to worry about this," she tells him. "You just need some time to adjust."
Seth nods, though he's not really listening to her.
Sarah tilts her head, seeing Seth's fixed gaze on Ryan's eyes, his lips pursed together into a thin line, hand reaching for Ryan's. She sighs. There's nothing else for her to say, and even if there was, Seth wouldn't listen. Not now.
He's thinking of a time when things were easier, when Ryan spent time with him, when Seth could stare into Ryan's eyes. Sarah knows this, and she respects it. With another squeeze, she turns around and leaves the room quietly.
Seth doesn't even notice her departure. He stares at his best friend, his hand tightening around Ryan's for a moment.
"There are times when I think you talk just to make noise."
Seth remembers Ryan saying that, a long time ago, when things seemed simpler. He also remembers his own reply.
"Sometimes, my friend, I do."
And maybe that's what he needs. To talk because he can, to make some noise. For both their sakes.
"I had Calculus today. Yes, I know, it sucks, but it's not like I can skip it, you know? It's mandatory. I have Peterson for it. I'm screwed, dude, I am."
Seth's thumb runs a pattern over the back of Ryan's palm.
"I have French homework due tomorrow. I haven't even touched it. After that, I have physics, like the day won't be bad enough. We're gonna have to read Poe for Literature this semester. I've already read The Fall of the House of Usher. I told you about that a while back..."
Sandy sighs as he walks into the elevator. Pushing the button for the 5th floor, he leans back against the side wall of the box. Of all the days he had to leave late from the office, today had to be one of those days. He had wanted to leave at five so he could see Ryan for a minute before going home. Instead, he hadn't been able to leave until almost seven. He had called Kirsten on his way there to let her know he'd be late for dinner.
He had been more than surprised when she told him she'd be leaving the office in about an hour. Apparently, what little she had told him about it, she had taken a very long hunch hour and felt compelled to stay longer at the office.
He understands, and it didn't take Kristen telling him everything about it to understand what she meant. She had gone to see Ryan and probably stayed longer than she had believed she would. And so, both of them will be late for dinner. Sandy wonders if Seth was even at home at the moment.
The elevator stops as it reaches the fifth floor and Sandy waits for the doors to slide open. He takes a step forward, out of the elevator box and pauses for a moment. There's a sign pointing to the right letting him know where to find rooms 500 to 536. There's another one, pointing to the left that stated that rooms 538 to 564 are on this side of the hallway. On the same route, apparently, is the staircase and the chapel. Sandy tilts his head and breathes in. Chapel.
He doesn't remember the last time he was in a chapel. They got married in a Church because Kirsten wanted that, because Kirsten's mom wanted that. Sophie wasn't pleased, at all, but they managed to include the breaking of glass into the ceremony. Sighing, he turns to the left and walks down the hallway, following the signs.
The chapel is barely fifty feet from the elevator. It's a small room turned into a chapel, with a crucifix on the left wall and two benches to kneel before it.
It's empty, which doesn't surprise Sandy. Visiting hours are over and have been since 5pm. They have special permission, to be able to visit Ryan at any time of the day or night. He's grateful for that small miracle.
He sighs once again, turning to stare at the exit before taking a step inside. He's not a practicing Jew, he knows, eating pancakes on Seder and things like that, but that doesn't mean he doesn't respect God any less. He knows, in his heart, that there's a God that watches over all of them from above and cares. He knows this, making the difference between Catholics and Jews just a matter of semantics.
Walking slowly to the benches, Sandy places his briefcase on the floor before kneeling.
He looks up at the Christ on the crucifix and remembers when Seth was born. Seeing his son, blood over his face and limbs, as the nurse took him from the doctor's arms and placed a blanket around him before handing him off to Sandy. It was the most amazing moment of his life. Nothing, he knew then, would compare to that moment.
Nothing, until now.
Ryan might not be his biological son, he might not share blood with him, but that doesn't mean Sandy doesn't love him as much as he loves Seth. He didn't see Ryan within seconds of life on this earth, breathing through small nostrils that still had fluid, blood around him, making his entrance into this world. He might not have, but that doesn't mean anything. Sandy saw his son in the worst of his moments, being kicked out by his own mother, by his own flesh and blood. He saw Ryan crying over innocence lost as he decided to leave with Theresa.
And now, Sandy sees his son lying in a hospital bed, breathing through a transparent tube. He sees his son with his eyes closed, fighting every moment to survive. Sandy's grateful, deep down inside him, that his son has been brought back, that he can see him, touch him, and be there with him. He's grateful, and, surprisingly, at the same time, he's resentful.
He wishes for the boy he knew, the one who would do anything for someone he loved, for his parents and for his best friend. He misses that boy, and wonders when he'll have him back.
Bending his head forward, Sandy close his eyes and says a small prayer he doesn't believe he remembers, "Modeh ani lefaneicha melech chai v'kayam shehechezarta bi nishmati bechemlah - rabbah emunatecha."[1]
[1] Jewish prayer of thanks: I gratefully thank you, O living and eternal King, for You have returned my soul within me with compassion - abundant is Your faithfulness!
End of Book One:
Word count: 50,036 words
Started: November 1st, 2004. 12.00am
Finished: November 30th, 2004. 1.16amPart eleven
Part thirteen
Sullen