Walking on Thin Ice: Chapter 21

Noah waited patiently outside the doors of the hospital, knowing any second now his Aunt Summer and Uncle Stan were going to shove into the hospital, inept and scared out of their minds. He sighed loftily, waiting for them, waiting to catch them up on everything he knew from the day she left, every single detail he'd shared with Doug and now them. It was a good thing they took the final step to see her, but under such dire circumstances! He could hardly decide whether it was best for her to die or live at this point.

A small car parked carefully, two older people sliding out of it, one of them so close in likeness to Noah's father he actually thought it was him, but it was his brother, Stan. Noah waved, jumping up and down wildly, distraught and yet excited. The next three cars spilled all nine children out, one of them a small replica of Gemma with a very shy exterior.

He started talking before they even said his name. He started at the day she and Jonas moved into Cambridge, and didn't stop until he got to Jonas's death, hearing gasps around the small crowd. He paused, taking a deep breath, and continued to the present day, telling them every detail, even his conversations with her regarding the new man in her life, and when they walked in, faces suddenly scared, they seemed to realize that even if she did wake up, she would not be happy to see them. Dread filled Stanley Thompson's bones as he ascended the concrete steps of the stairwell, ignoring his pounding heart as he walked to see his daughter's face for the first time in seven years.

Inside the room there were quite a few people none of the Thompsons knew, and yet they could tell instantly that the man sitting with his hand glued inside the woman's hand was the infamous "Mike" that Noah had mentioned. Stanley stared at him for a moment before realizing he had referred to his daughter as "the woman." He stepped up to her side and stared in awe at her, the plastic across her face obscuring her greatly, but he could see her. Slowly Angela and her parents inched out of the room, surprised to see such a large amount of people creeping in. Mike looked up and allowed his jaw to drop as he saw the older gentleman staring in sad awe at Gemma.

He stood up, extending his free hand towards the man. "Hello sir, I'm Mike-"

"Hello, Mike." He cleared his throat. "So, what did they say about her? Is she gonna be awright?" His accent was slightly contrary to the area, but Mike hardly noticed.

Now Mike cleared his throat. "She had a mild allergy to the painkiller they used in surgery. She's in a type of coma they say, and if she doesn't wake up by eleven thirty tomorrow, she isn't going to wake up."

Stanley nodded slowly, accepting this and still thinking it not fair. "I see,"

Uncertain and slightly afraid, Mike resumed his seat next to Gemma, startled to see another nine people slip into the room, whispering and gasping as they spotted the woman lying on the bed.

One by one they were introduced by Stanley, who seemed to be taking the news his daughter was lying a coma very well, though his face was sad and his face weak.

He introduced them from oldest to youngest. "That's Doug, Steve, Sammy, Seth, Sean, Stuart, Simon, Scott, and Sarah."

Mike smiled. "My sister's outside, her name's Angela."

For a moment, either Sammy or Seth looked pleased and leaned out the door, but he froze mid-glance and stepped forward, eyeing the woman on the bed.

"Is that Gemma?"

Mike nodded slowly, forcing himself to pry his fingers from her hand, and for one fleeting moment he hoped he had felt her holding his hand back, but it fell lifelessly from his as the Sammy/Seth thing sat down and stared at her.

Scott, the youngest, took a deep, shuddering breath. "She's beautiful still,"

"Of course she is!" Snapped her mother, stepping into Mike's seat and smoothing Gemma's long hair from her face and shoulders.

"We made a horrible mistake, Summer," Stanley began, his voice the dead tone Mike longed to hear, the tone that said apology and sorrow.

Doug rubbed his face suddenly, the male equivalent to a woman bursting into tears. "Sometimes I start thinking I should have known better-"

"We never made a rule you couldn't talk to her, Stanley Douglas!" Summer began again, her eyes shining.

He gripped his elbows, skinny and sort of fragile looking though he was at least thirty-five. "As much as she brought the punishment upon herself, you were the ones that ruined her chances of thinking she could come back."

A few more feuds broke out in which Mike could only stare helplessly, praying one of them would stop it, and it came in form of a small angel of twenty-two years old, a small twin of Gemma with a very shy smile and seemingly permanent blush marks. She brought in a bouquet of flowers, wildflowers, and set them down on Gemma's bedside table, wiping a quick tear away with another furious blush. She wanted dearly to remove the mask to better see her sister's expression, but it was clear that the machine was helping her live and no one wanted to ruin the seventy to thirty chance she die before morning. The girl turned to Mike and smiled a very weak and tired smile, one that could only show you that she'd seen more than most in her life and she was coping very well on the outside, not so much on the inside.

"Noah told us about you," she nearly whispered.

There were eleven pairs of eyes on Mike suddenly, and when Angela walked in, twelve. "Uh-"

"You'll have your turn to talk in a minute, boy." Stanley snapped, and Mike knew where Gemma got her snappy remarks and ability to interrupt at any moment and somehow get away with it.

Sarah frowned at her father before taking a few soft steps towards Mike and standing, her clothes hanging off her as if she were shrinking right out of them. "Noah said she took you to Vermont with her,"

Mike nodded but did not speak.

"Do you love my sister, Mike?" Her voice was so unlike Gemma's he almost forgot that she was speaking as he looked at her face, same and different to all in the family.

He nodded again, blinking as the brothers squirmed. So began the great inquiry.

"You treating her well? Not doing anything you shouldn't be, are you?" Sean started immediately.

Simon, who was Mike's age exactly, began to gibber off like some sort of tyrant. "Of course we all assume the worse; we can't fathom Gemma's found a good, honest guy to date, and we certainly can't accept the fact she got on fine without any of us there to protect her-"

Mike had to interrupt now. "She didn't get on fine," he snapped, almost aware of his tone of voice, "she was always miserable, and if that mask on her face didn't cover her expression you could see what you did to her, all of you."

"What do you mean, always miserable?" Stuart asked, turning his head sideways so not to see Mike's face clearly.

"Every second she wasn't laughing, talking, or doing anything-every moment she had to think-she had this terribly sad look on her face, and every time I mentioned my sister or my parents she'd get all stiff about it and tell me to have fun. In fact, she was mad at me for mentioning she try to contact you." Mike responded, feeling almost satisfied with his answer.

Another alarm sounded and Jameison rushed in again, his eyes surprised only for a moment to see all the strangers there, so clearly her family. He called for assistance and when he received it, they were forced to shove all the people from her room, letting them return a few moments later with another piece of machinery attached to her, this one on her side, a small puncture to allow fluids to drain.

Jameison pulled Mike and Mike alone outside the room. "She's getting worse, I'm afraid. Kidney failure, liver's weakening right up, she's in a bad way, mate."

Mike nodded in almost denial. "She'll be fine,"

Stanley was whispering all sorts of things to Gemma as he sat in Mike's chair, talking to her, hugging her gently, eyeing the blood stains on her gown and trying to see through the clouded mask helping her breath. The IV drip in her arm had been shoved behind the desk with the flowers on it, knocking a few blooms to the floor, a few of which Sarah had picked up and put in Gemma's hair, still beautiful though she lay dying before them.

Hours passed unwillingly, and it seemed to Summer and Stanley Thompson that coming to see their daughter to reconcile and instead seeing her die was the worst thing that could happen. Michael could hear the whispers between them, talking of leaving about eleven o' clock to avoid seeing her life being taken from her, to avoid having to face reality that they were never able to apologize to her in living flesh. It was an absurd notion, but they had also been a family afraid to apologize, and so they all avoided the entire wrong-doing part of it to avoid the apologies. It was a simple plan, but it worked efficiently, and luckily it had not worn off on Gemma at all. She was quick to say she was sorry, even quicker to fix things she broke, feelings or engines.

Around ten o' clock Jameison insisted they all go home for the night because visiting hours had ended an hour ago. They were all told they could come back as early as six the next morning, and when Mike drove to his flat, Angela in car, parents following, he couldn't help but stare off into space, considering the many ways he could save her life.

He sighed. "Is it an unwritten rule that they have to unplug someone after twenty-four hours? What about those fools on life-support for months and years?"

"They have a better chance of recovery with time, they know for sure if she doesn't wake up after twenty-four she won't wake up at all. She probably signed a living will about that then."

He sighed again, heavier. "Stupid life crisis,"

Angela smiled gently, trying to cheer him up a bit. "Call Terry,"

"Riiight, 'Hey Ter, can you come over? I know it's Christmas and the wife would kill you but I'm having a nervous breakdown and need you to come.' Dream on Angela." He parked and slipped out of his car, taking the normal four or five block walk to his flat quickly. The quicker he got to sleep, the quicker he could wake up and go back to the hospital.

Once inside, Angela took up the phone and called Terry, phone book laying on the table next to her like a dead thing, and Mike the same on the couch, hands over his face as his mother soothed him, talking quietly of the chances she had.

The telly was on, and so was the news.

A young man with a neat suit and tie stood in the hallway of the hospital, obviously earlier that day. "Hello there, I'm Brett Leary and I'm here in London General Hospital to bring you the latest on the conditions of three people here that were recently involved with a crime in this woman's home." A shot of Gemma's house crawling with police as gurneys wheeled out was shown for a few moments before the pleasant man's face returned, a few bustling doctors in the background.

"It was in that house that Abigail Nelson was staying to avoid her boyfriend, Josh Tallero. He had convinced himself that a friend from the gym Miss Nelson and a few of her friends frequented was having an affair with the young woman, who denied it and was attacked savagely. Before authorities could come, Miss Nelson's paramedic, Gemma Thompson showed up and offered to give her a place to stay for the next few weeks. Miss Thompson knew Miss Nelson from the gym, so she accepted.

"A couple of weeks later, with both Thompson and Nelson in Thompson's home, Josh Tallero crept into Thompson's home and forced the women into the basement. The police, supposed to go by to check on the girls after they reported some threatening phone calls, were shocked to hear screams from the outside. The broke down the door to find Miss Nelson unconscious with a broken collar bone, and Miss Thompson against the wall of her basement with a crazed boyfriend holding her back. Before authorities could instruct the man to drop his weapon, a five inch knife, he plunged it into Miss Thompson's ribs and was shot in the leg."

The man approached a doctor who was standing quite purposefully at the end of a washing table, his hands being scrubbed furiously of the blood he'd gotten on them.

"Sir, could you tell us of the three injuries today?"

The doctor glared at the reporter, peeved to the highest extent, and spoke in a snippy, doctor's tone. "The first girl, Miss Nelson is going to be out of here on the twenty-seventh, Mister Tallero is going to be let out on the first of the new year, where he will promptly be put in prison, and Miss Thompson is sitting in a mild coma as a result of an allergy to the painkillers used for her surgery."

"Is there a chance she won't make it?"

"It's a bigger chance than the chance she pulls through without losing half of her memory." The doctor snapped, walking into the Tallero boy's room and checking the gunshot wound.

Mike stared. "Lose half of her memory if she does make it? What the hell?"

Mary Palin patted Mike's head carefully, trying to soothe him again, but he was beyond the calming point.

With a little help from his family, Mike drifted off.

Angela yawned. "Do you really think a sleeping pill was necessary?"

Her father shrugged. "A quarter of the regular dosage; that kid will be up right around six thirty, bright and shiny, ready to go."

"Dim and gloomy, but awake." Angela murmured.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was eight thirty when Angela woke up, and Mike was sitting at his kitchen table, bags under his eyes, nose in a book. It was a medical dictionary, and the one that Helen had taken in as a personal Bible during her pregnancy. She carried it everywhere with her, big as it was, and even Mike, who had always laughed at her obsession with, now saw its usefulness. He peeled one more page over before reading.

"Amnesia most often occurs with brain damage or as a result of severe nerve problems when nerves or nerve endings are damaged in surgery, and can be forced into action by an allergic reaction, mostly on the part of the morphine or painkiller used." Mike paused, his thoughts swimming. "Usually the allergy-induced amnesiacs make a full comeback though the process may take anywhere from days to years to regain full memory. Normally close family and or loved ones are not affected by the memory as they are deeply engraved in the mind. On rare occasions the body and mind will block out all memory of a single person that was very close to them, but it is almost always temporary."

Angela looked extremely uncomfortable for a moment. "You're riding a lot on the mere possibility she wakes up, Mikey."

He snapped his head up. "It's all I've got to hang onto, Angie."

The door opened and in walked Terry, who shooed Boxer from his feet before walking over to Mike's side, his face sullen. Eric slipped in next, face not quite angry and not quite awake.

"Since when do you two travel as a pack?" Mike asked blearily.

With a straight face, Eric replied, "Since our friend has the love of his life in the hospital with her life hanging by a thread."

Mike forced himself to smile and thank them before he piled everyone up in his car and started the hitching drive to the hospital, medical dictionary tucked safely under his arm. When they arrived at nine o' clock, Ximena, Jeremy, and Jameison were the only ones inside. He looked up with a small, sad look.

"Don't even say it," Mike snapped, walking past him to sit next to her.

Jameison turned to Angela instead, hoping he'd take the news better from her. "She's killing herself now, her digestive track is working so slowly she can't absorb the metabolism. And since she's got that allergy towards the painkiller we use here, we can't go in and chemically speed up her metabolism."

Angela made a face at Gemma, who was practically dead on the sheets. "I'll make sure he knows. Thanks, doctor."

Eric and Terry stood on either side of Mike, holding his shoulders as he sat, the book spread on his lap. Hope was a few pages away, but he didn't get that far before the family showed up again and all eight brothers were at his heels again, snipping and biting. If he had read the next few pages, maybe he wouldn't have been in such a horrible way, maybe he would have suggested something that could have saved Gemma's life, and yet he didn't, so it was all in her hands.

Today minutes ticked by like hours, and the quiet in the hospital was terrible. Just down the hall, a nurse wheeled Abigail into Gemma's room where she burst into tears and apologized to Gemma's limp form over and over again, making Mike feel whatever rage he had towards Josh build up. He stood and walked to the bastard's room, surprised to see him crying.

"What are you crying about?" He snapped, stepping inside.

The man looked up, his short cut hair matted and dirty. "I've killed a woman they tell me, slowly, in the worst way. Her family and friends watch her waste away, and all because I saw red and nothing else."

Mike curled his lip. "Don't cry for the saints,"

"I was one, you know. I was a saint too, until I got a girlfriend. Paranoia sweeps you away before you can get your ground, and I was sick with it. Enough has happened, I only wish to die." He had logic Mike couldn't fathom.

"There's a very small chance she makes it, Josh." Mike said softly, more to himself than anyone else, and walked out the door, Josh wildly looking up to see the speaker he didn't know that seemed to know his name. He was convinced that the man he had seen was God, and no one could tell him otherwise.

Nine thirty, shit, Mike thought carefully, walking back to Gemma's room. She looked more thin than usual, which was probably a sickly thing, her weight dropping so quickly she actually looked as though she was sinking into the bed itself. The ever-slow beeping of the heart monitor continued, letting everyone know she was alive. Every now and then Mike could see her eyelids flicker in a sort of dream-like fashion, like her eyes were darting around just below the surface, trying wildly to see through them.

Scott, the brother closest to Gemma in age, and closest to her heart as the parents told him, began to talk to her, his smile welcome to all.

"This is just like you, too Gem. You're going to sit here, smiling inside, knowing we all want you to wake up, but you're going to wait until the last moment and wake up, or worse, make a bad decision and sink off into the Otherworld, that place you always wanted to know what it was like, that Otherworld... The world where you would be with him now, wouldn't you? You'd be with Jonas there, and I'm sure you were very upset when he died, but you can't go being depressed forever, because we love you still, me especially, and I don't know if you can hear us, but I'm going to keep talking. We've made you sad too, haven't we? I'm so sorry, but dying isn't going to teach us a lesson; you being hurt brought us here. We took the first step, and rightfully so. Besides, if you don't wake up, who'd make Sarah laugh? Who'd keep her out of our rooms when we were playing the radio? Come on, we need you here." He seemed to have slipped back into the world he lived in when he last knew her, and it didn't matter. Everyone was just watching him talk to her, watching him smile at her, watching for her mouth to twitch up into a smile as well, but it didn't. She just looked sad.

It seemed everyone there had something to say, and when the entire Thompson family wandered out into the hall come ten o' clock, Mike at their heels, Angela sat down on Gemma's left side.

She smiled weakly. "While we're here, together, Gemma, I might as well say my piece. You can't go dying on us all now because my brother loves you, and he's not going to let you go without a fight. Save him some anguish, please? He can't go with two losses; he'll give up. Just let him know something, wake up, even if for only a few moments, just to hear him say it to you; he's heard you say it to him, and if you can hear us, he needs to know. Your family is here, his family is here, and the only thing we want is to see you sit up. Just open your eyes, or sit up, or laugh, or smile. Even though I don't know you, I want you to live, so you better, understand? Nobody breaks my little brother's heart without a verbal beating, and you'll get it, dead or alive, sister."

Terry and Eric sat across from her, smiling gently. They didn't move until she wiped away a single tear and left. Eric sighed loftily and tried to look at Terry without turning his eyes from Gemma.

"She's gotta make it, Ter, think about it. Things like this don't happen to good people like Mike."

"Things like this have happened to him, in a worse degree. I'm not sure which is worse though, him in love with a baby on the way and having to see her die, or not being able to tell her he loves her and watching her die." Terry responded, rubbing his face.

Meredith was there all at once, her face screwed up in a terrible way. "No! No! No!"

Eric and Terry were immediately confused at who she was, but Mike had reappeared and she was in his arms sobbing, he looking absolutely blank.

Almost sick of all the tears, Eric wished Mike the best of luck and said he'd be right back, walking down the hall to clear his mind. Who he bumped into was another teary-eyed girl, but this one was different.

She had a cast on her arm, a sling on her shoulder and a few stitches on her neck. When Eric walked by, he slowed down to see if she was alright, and she recognized him, jaw opening instantly. Before she could blurt out the thought on her brain, Eric flashed a charming grin at her and extended a hand. She took it with mild awe, surprised as he led her to her room where she was walking to, without her wheelchair. Once she was safely in her bed, Eric began to ask her a few polite questions. It seemed that something good came of Gemma's hospital expedition.

Noah was led to the back room of the hospital with the tapes, all eight of Gemma's brothers following quietly. Once inside, parents, siblings, cousin, Ximena started up the tape again and watched as all eight of the brothers squinted against the tears they felt, and Sarah put her head down. Her father was overcome with a fatherly feeling towards Mike, who was sitting, taking careful watch of Gemma upstairs, and Mike's parents seemed to have just lost their ability to even look like they were alive. As they walked back to her room, Noah stopped in the playroom, where the pediatric ward stopped in. A small, beat-up guitar was sitting in the corner. He seized it and carried it to Gemma's room, smiling as Scott took it from him, listening carefully as Noah explained.

"She learned to play guitar from Jonas. He taught her everything she knows and she's great." He turned towards Sarah. "She sings, Sarah."

Sarah's face lit up, she smiled a very Thompson-like smile. It was a smile that took up the entire body, one that lit up the face like a heavenly light and turned any problems into inconveniences. Mike smiled back, feeling a sort of unity in the room he never would have guessed. Still Gemma's chest rose and fell softly, weakly, hopelessly. Ten thirty.

Eric felt guilty about averting his attention from Mike to Abby, but she was wonderful, and so cautious. He understood that she had been hurt in more ways than one by her last relationship, so he gave her his number and told her to ring him up if she wanted to. He didn't ask her for anything other than her name, and let her talk as long as she wanted, which wasn't terribly long. Her shoulder-lenghth curly brown hair had been tied back and clipped atop her head as she prepared herself to leave. Insisting he had to be back in the other room for his friend, Eric had reluctantly left, and upon returning had found a guitar propped up against the far wall.

Picking it up without a second thought, he began to play Gemma's rendition of "Stand By Me." He could literally see Mike's shoulders tense up, and he was momentarily frightened Mike would whirl around and kill him, but instead he let his shoulders drop and began to hum the words as Eric sang them.

The off-beat version of the song was jarring and quiet, but it was still easily identified. Sarah's voice was soft and shy, but when she closed her eyes she could almost forget there were people there, staring at her...

"When the night has come
and the land is dark
and the moon is the only light we see
I won't, be afraid
No I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand
Stand by me

Darling, darling, stand by me
Oh, stand by me
Oh, stand, stand by me, stand by me

If the sky, that we look upon
Should tumble and fall
And the mountains
Should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry
No, I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand
Stand by me, oh

Darling darling stand by me
Oh, stand by me
Oh, stand, stand by me, stand by me"

Gemma's heart sped up a tiny bit, and when the song ended, she took an abnormally deep breath, her vitals increased. She sighed in her sleep and lolled her head more, eyes fluttering wildly. Everyone held their breath eagerly, watching as she moved on her own. Mike felt the pressure on his hand increase slowly until she had a white-knuckled grasp on it, but just as quickly as it came, she was limp and her heart was slower than ever. She had ten minutes to wake up.