Walking on Thin Ice: Chapter 22

Hope was sitting there, idling its time away as Mike's eyes averted towards Gemma's frail form. He was using up all his energy just imagining her sitting up, just imagining her opening her eyes, yawning, and looking at everyone blankly. He'd take her, mind blank and afraid over dead any day. He found himself an active Christian suddenly, and begged on bended knees for her. Seconds ticked by so slowly, so very slow...

"What are you going to do?" Stanley's tired voice interrupted into Mike's prayers. He had half a mind to glare and maybe shout at the man, but he noticed Brad Jameison standing there, a somber look on his face.

He smiled grimly. "I turn off her respirator and take her off dialysis and she dies slowly with little or no pain."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Sarah inquired suddenly, her voice hysterical. "The first time I see my big sister in seven years and I've got to watch her die?"

Mike was hysterical as well now. "She's got ten minutes, so shut up!"

With a small, very sad look, Brad took Mike's arm. "She's gone, Mike. All the failure, all the problems with her heart and lungs, they're killing her as we speak. Even if she woke up she probably wouldn't make it or remember anything. She'd be starting all over again, a blank mind."

"Oh ye of little faith," Eric spat.

"Gemma wouldn't have all this faith talk, and you know it! She'd laugh at all of you, saying if the girl didn't want to wake up she wouldn't. She'd say if the medical problems outweighed the good the girl would die. She wouldn't have any of this faith and God crap, so make her last six minutes on Earth hers, will you?" Brad lectured as Ximena walked into the already crowded room. She checked the vitals and sighed unhappily.

"They've gone up a bit, but her heart still won't catch up."

"I know, Ximena; I'm her doctor." Brad snapped, watching his watch.

Angela and her parents slowly walked from the room, leaving those closest to Gemma there for her, more room for those who knew her. Mike was on one side, Gemma's family and friends on another, Eric and Terry once again taking both of Mike's shoulders as if he was going to fall over backwards at any second.

For some reason her family made him nervous, so Mike refrained from kissing her anymore, not wanting them to scold him, or frown at him, so he sat, clutching her hand while Summer Thompson grabbed Gemma's other. As the minutes grew fewer in number though, the brothers and sister fell back, fighting tears and curse words alike. They held each other like a close family should, and suddenly Mike wished his sister was still there, smoothing his hair down, smiling weakly at him. Laughter echoed in the halls as a small child received a visit from her parents. Mike let go of his inhibitions and kissed Gemma's hand, hoping for a response.

"Goodbye, Gemma Thompson." Brad whispered, reaching up to touch the switch as her time ran out. He gave the family a few more seconds to see her face before he pulled the mask from her face and switched off the machines. For a moment, nothing happened. Her chest had filled completely with oxygen, and now it was falling slowly, air whooshing out over her face. Her hair blew lazily in the breeze, and her mother smiled proudly at her daughter's beauty before the heart monitor began to beep loudly, her panic in not finding the ability to breathe taking her body over. Choking noises came from her throat and her eyes looked like they'd be rolling crazily if they had been open.

All at once hope reared its ugly head and she was alive.

She sat up, coughing hysterically, her hands falling from Mike and Summer's hands simultaneously. She grabbed her head, spitting blood into her lap shamelessly. Pounding her own chest with an open palm, she groaned with pain; she felt so weak.

"What a pisser," she murmured, falling back into the pillows. There was a silent shock among the masses, and when she let her eyes open, they were almost sure she had just died; there was a blank look in her eye that could only be that of a death.

Almost comically, her face lit up like a light had shone on it, a smile graced her face, and her right hand snapped up in front of her, waving at the people staring.

"Gemma!" Mike cried, grabbing her hand. She looked at him, his tear streaked face, and allowed him to smother her as she squirmed in pain.

She laughed uneasily as the others stared in disbelief. "How long was I out? Six months? Are we married and I forgot? How many kids? Come on, I'm lost here-"

"Just twenty-four hours," Brad murmured in awe, "and you're supposed to be dead. Kidney-failure, lung-failure, liver-failure, mild coma...you're dead."

Gemma stretched. "I don't feel dead, and I know this isn't heaven." She yawned and clutched Mike's hand tightly. "So, who're they?" She bopped her head towards the still awe-stricken people staring at her.

"Your parents and siblings." Mike answered, face serious.

Slowly, Gemma turned her head back to look at her parents, blinking in surprise. "Mum?"

"Hi, Baby," she responded, blinking away a few tears.

"So, it takes a near-death experience to get you guys to show up for Christmas, huh? I should have done this ages ago." She reached over and hugged her mother stiffly. All at once her entire family was up around her, smothering her with seven years of lost affection. She was shouting over all their sobs and words of affirmation, asking them questions she should have known but couldn't know, kissing, hugging, loving all of them.

"If I wasn't so convinced this is real I'd be pinching myself awake by now." Gemma sobbed into Doug's embrace.

He smiled, rubbing her back with a free hand. "Why isn't a dream?"

"Jonas isn't here."

Mike felt a pang of indignation before he felt her arms come up over her shoulders and grab him around the neck. He smiled broadly and kissed her cheek, blushing as his parents walked into the room with dropped jaws. She pulled away and kissed him over and over again all over his face, giggling as he tried to catch her mouth among it all, but she continued to elude him, trying to ignore the burning pain in her side where the knife wound festered.

"You should probably get some rest, Gemma. You'll pull on that wound." Brad said in a dumb-founded tone, checking her perfectly healthy vitals. "How in the hell do you make a complete recovery?"

She smiled, explaining the hope Mike hadn't known about to the group. "When a body starts shutting down and is kept alive with machines, the shock of being taken off life-support can shock a person back into a normal existence. Without any side-effects, usually."

"Like amnesia?" Mike asked, blushing as she looked at him.

She smiled weakly, looking over his adorable face with a pang of guilt. "Yeah, that would be horrible wouldn't it? I don't think I'd forget you though, Michael."

Angela threw a look at her parents, seeing if they caught the name she used for Mike. Before she could see their expressions though, she looked away to see if he'd take up the perfect silence to tell her what he'd said to her while she lay there, unaware they were there. Maybe she'd say it to him? Or maybe they were both afraid that now everything was alright there would be no reason. Angela made an irritated noise at their stupidity before walking in and extending a hand at Gemma, who was in Scott's arms for a moment.

"Hi, I'm Angela, Mike's sister."

Gemma cast a critical eye at Angela, liking her smile, seeing her pregnancy, seeing her obvious relation to Michael; she liked this woman. "Hi,"

"We've heard so much about you-" Angela started, grinning.

Mike groaned. "Angie, please,"

"Oh, hush, Mike! You can't hog her all to yourself, you know Mum and Da aren't going to have it-"

Gemma screeched suddenly, burying herself inside Mike's jacket, holding it up around her head. Mike's arms floated down to hold her, confused. She squirmed and whimpered. "I can't see them now! I look like death warmed up, literally!"

It seemed that neither Mike nor Angela cared much if she looked fit to see the queen or not, and waved their parents in, knowing they already knew everyone else in the room. They stared at the newly animated girl before them, her head curiously missing in their son's jacket. She squirmed, and her hands flew up around his neck, a cute gesture of insecurity. They smiled to each other nervously, stepping forward to see her face. Mike slipped his jacket off, grinning as she squealed and tried to worm her way under her sheets, but he yanked her upright and held her proudly as her parents gasped at her beauty.

"Oh, Mike, she's adorable!" His mother started all over again, and Gemma was blushing, face down sheepishly.

"Is it a gene in your family? Christ!" She flipped some of her long hair into her face to cover it up.

There was another gasp. "Gemma! Have you been growing that out since you left?" Sarah touched her hair.

Reaching up with a silent grin, Gemma trailed her fingers into her sister's hair and sighed happily, unaware that a wave of happiness had settled on everyone.

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

"I wanna go HOME, Brad, I'm sick of these four walls. It's been two weeks, I've missed the convention, isn't that enough for you and your sick plot?" Gemma whined as Jameison walked in with the new girl nurse.

He made a face as he bent and checked her chart. "The best thing to do," he said to the new nurse, "is to ignore her, and if she offers you money get out of here as fast as you can. Another thing, do not come in here when her boyfriend visits."

Gemma pouted her lip. "You make that sound like a bad thing."

"It is, Gemma! You can't barge in here looking to see how you're doing if that man is within a ten-foot diameter of you. It's like magnets have fastened themselves in your heads or something-" Brad shook his head at the giggling nurse.

Gemma's face lit up. "Michael!" She cried, and Jameison and the nurse spun around to see a young man standing in the doorway, pleasant confusion on his face.

The nurse extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Jess-"

"Wonderful," he pushed past after shaking her hand and sat down next to Gemma, grinning as she pointed out the window and told him about the bird stuck in the window-sill for the past six hours. She was fixated on the idea its tailfeathers had been closed in the window sometime earlier that day when the early morning shift discovered her window was open a crack. Mike didn't really mind she had to find stupid or silly things to mention when he came; he liked hearing her talk, it was another way for him to believe she really was alive. You didn't just have dreams about your girlfriend talking to you about a bird stuck on a windowsill, did you?

Jameison grinned as the nurse, Jess, stared at the two pitifully. "I told you,"

She looked up. "Did he brush me off or what there?"

Cackling gently, Jameison continued on his way down the hall, Jess skipping at his heels. "I'm surprised he actually shook your hand, to be honest. It's not that he isn't polite-the man is probably as polite as they get-"

"And cute." Jess interjected.

"Riiight, anyway, it's just that he lost his wife and then, just as he was starting to date seriously again, his girlfriend is supposed to die within twenty-four hours. It was a little much for him; I think he still assumes he's dreaming." Jameison mused gently.

Jess pouted her lip. "Do you think the fact he shook my hand means anything?"

"Death couldn't separate them at this point; I'd set my sights lower if I were you." He advised, smiling at a young man put up in a bed with a broken femur. "Nasty break, my friend. Cast is coming off today, right? Now, I must warn that if you wake up without a kidney..."

"Take me hooooome, Michael." Gemma suddenly stopped babbling and grabbed his hand.

He smiled at her and shook his head. "Not until you're all better, little lady."

She snorted. "I could say something equally as wrong as that, but I'd probably get smacked."

"Probably not,"

"Oh, lighten up! I'm fine!" She threw her arms up like she was about to jump up and do cartwheels.

Mike still felt it necessary to lean forward and kiss her to show he meant business. She smiled as he pulled away and flopped back into the sheets knowing that any second Jameison and the new girl were going to walk back in; she'd seen the look on the new girl's face.

Before that could happen though, Abigail walked in, sling, cast, and beau.

"Hey guys," she smiled at Mike, who looked up at Eric with a small smile.

All week past patients and other doctors and friends had been dropping off all sorts of things like flowers and candy to help her feel better, and all week she had been gorging herself with all sorts of things. Abby handed her a small grocery bag with a few oranges and apples in it and winked as Gemma squealed with excitement.

"Never thought I'd be so happy to see fruit and vegetables!" She cried, using a fingernail to puncture the skin on an orange.

Now the new girl and Jameison returned.

"I checked with the charts and such; you're outta here tomorrow, get yerself a ride, Gemma." He looked mildly distracted with Jess as she stared at Mike.

He stared back for a spell before cocking his eyebrow. The girl turned bright red and exited the room, Jameison rolling his eyes with a soft apology before bolting to catch her.

Eric had a protective arm around Abby's waist, and when she moved forward to give Gemma a quick hug, he moved as well. He looked perfectly fine with being clingy, and gave Mike a very stern look when he started to snicker at him.

"Oh, right, I can't cling but you can." He said suddenly, confusing both women.

Eric was a light pink as he responded, "I'm packing away my dignity, mate."

Mike rolled his eyes and turned back to Gemma, feigning a quick dizzy spell before speaking. "So, did they say when tomorrow I pick you up?"

"Nope," she responded, face dark, "that nurse distracted him by staring at you."

"Yeah, what was that all about?" He asked, frowning at the memory.

Gemma cast an amused glance at him before seizing his cheek like one of his aunts at Christmas and began to baby-talk him. "It's the cute wittle cheeks! Mikey's got dimples and all the girlies want to kiss them right off his face!" She laughed as he pulled away and gagged, rubbing his face.

"Owww!" He whined.

"Suck it up, you don't have a knife-wound." She snapped, rubbing her stitches gently. Mike immediately grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug, smiling as she windmilled, out of balance.

Abby looked at her watch and said, "Well, as cute as this is, I've got an appointment at the physical therapy unit downtown in ten minutes that I'm already gonna be late for. Get well soon, Gemma."

"Will do," she saluted her friend before they left, and as soon as the moment was theirs, Mike and Gemma seized it. She leaned over the chrome railing and kissed him, smiling as he kissed back, scooting closer to the bedside, reaching up to hold her cheek in his hand. It was all very gentle; Mike was afraid anything other than bedrest was going to kill her, so he wouldn't let her move very much, and had to force himself to stay where he was. They were past the embarrassment of someone walking in, but this was a public place, so they had to have some respect.

Jameison poked his head back in. "Dickinson is coming!" He hissed, walking in and yanking Mike away from Gemma.

Before either of them could whine, a very prestigious looking doctor mosied in, looked at the chart in Gemma's cart, and smiled at Mike, who was waiting for him to leave very impatiently.

"Good afternoon, Miss Thompson." He smiled broadly, the first real smile Gemma had seen her boss show.

The administrator of the hospital then walked in and smiled at her, hands clasped behind his back. If it wasn't possible before, she had a bigger boss, and he was speaking now. "Good afternoon, Miss Thompson."

She mouthed wordlessly at them. "Ahh, gah?"

"You don't need to speak, dear, just let us say our piece." Dickinson patted her foot with a cautious hand, as if trying to remember if she had a foot wound that he'd be breaking all over again or something.

The administrator coughed gently before taking a step forward. "There is a program here, for the outstanding employee, the annual drawing. I can't even begin to express my desire to have you win this, Miss Thompson, but it does rely on the voters, and I thought you might want to see this." He smiled and pulled in a small wood box Gemma had put thought into a few nominations in throughout the year, one for Brad, a few for the nurses that worked overtime and had kids. As of that point she hadn't put in a name. As she looked into the box, she noticed that Brad was smiling broadly as well. Sure, the whole concept was a little cheesy, it was supposed to encourage all the employees to work hard to be good citizens as well as terrific doctors and such, but most of the time it was just for that nurse that covered your tail if you were late, that doctor that you caught drinking on the job and you promised not to tell...

"Except for the early year votes, every single one is for you, Gemma." Dickinson said proudly.

She smiled. "Wowee-"

"Congrats, then, you can pick up the season passes any time you want." And with an almost nervous smile, both doctor and administrator exited, talking gently to the other. Gemma groaned and put her head back, shaking her fist at the sky for no reason in particular, waiting for her mother and father to show up like they promised.

Mike furrowed his brow before looking at Gemma cautiously. "Season tickets?"

"Five season tickets to the stadium just outiside Longshire for all sports. Once a year some lucky guy or unlucky gal gets one. You want them?" Suddenly her face lit up. "Now your stupid little friends can't bitch and moan about me stealing all your time! Take them to a few of those games!"

Mike smiled for a split second before his face fell. "Stupid little friends, eh?"

"Fine, you don't want the tickets? I should be able to get away with calling them that once, for all the times they've called me 'Mike's goddamn girlfriend' or something close to that."

"Good point," he grinned and kissed her again, jumping back as her mother and father walked in, smiles lighting up their faces. In their arms were huge boxes of old relics from Gemma's room, her prom, everything. A few new boxes were mixed in, and Gemma was urged to open those as well, gasping now and again as things she could only get from her parents emerged. There was a lot of jewelry from her mother in old felt boxes, her grandmother's grandmother's mother's sister's things that she was promised. The more Gemma thought of it, the dizzier she got, so she just tried on all the things to make her mother happy, ignoring the ancient, gaudy jewels.

Things were crawling along slowly, and Stan was almost obligated to talk to Mike about what had happened in Vermont. He tipped his head towards the door, and Mike, much like a shamed schoolboy, followed him outside to talk.

"So, Noah tells me you and Gemma took a little trip. He won't tell me the exact time for whatever reason, care to elaborate for me?" He sounded like he couldn't take no for an answer, and Mike wasn't tempted to smart-mouth him today.

He nodded slowly, fingers twining together slowly, nervously. "Uh, we were gone for a week, some little town just north of Montpelier-"

"Joe and Martha Girardot?"

"Yessir,"

"Cut the crap, boy. I'm not a sir to you and you know it."

Gulping slightly, Mike took a firmer stance. "You're a sir until I'm told I can call you differently, sir." He emphasized it that time, eyes glittering. Slowly the older man smiled and clapped Mike on the shoulder, a pleased look crossing his face.

"You're already shaping up better than that Wittaker kid."

Summer peered around the outside of the door and scowled. "What are you doing to the poor boy, Stanley?"

"Just asking some questions," he replied, eyes never leaving Mike's.

With a heavy snort, Gemma's mother pulled both Mike and Gemma's father into the room and folded her arms. "Whatever it is you're interrogating him about, you should be able to do it in front of her, for Pete's sake, Stanley!"

With a tremendous sigh, he continued. "So, you were gone a week in Vermont with Joe and Martha. How long ago?"

"The week before Christmas, give or take a couple days." He replied, blinking quickly as Gemma fretted for both of them in the corner.

"How long you two been dating?"

Gemma enthusiastically lifted her hand into the air and waved it around, biting her lip in a girlish manner. "Ooh! I know! The sixteenth is the four-month mark, Dad."

He lifted his eyebrows and smiled gently at his daughter before his harsh gaze returned to Mike. "What are you planning on doing in the future?"

An exasperated sigh launched into the air, and Summer flopped onto Gemma's lap, beating her leg in a very Gemma-like manner. "He's going to scare this one away just like he scared poor little Sarah's dates away!"

"I'm not scared," Mike said in a slightly shaky voice, "but I don't have an answer."

There was no expression on any of their faces as her father started in again. "Where are your parents?"

"For Christ's sake!" Gemma cried. "He's twenty-six years old, his parents aren't at home with a bottle and a blanket, Dad!"

Mike cast his eyes down. "Gemma, you didn't have to lie about that."

She threw him a bemused glance before they both burst into uncontrollable laughter and Stanley and Summer could only look at each other in confusion before Mike's parents walked in holding Angela's first son, a few other relatives Gemma had yet to see squeezing in to gander at his new girlfriend.

Ian, a blonde with blue eyes that always looked sleepy, whistled softly at Gemma as she rubbed her stitches in a pitiful way. "You weren't kidding when you said that drawing was accurate."

She scowled at the newcomer and pulled her knees to her chest, grimacing as muscles stretched in painful ways.

"One more day of being a zoo exhibit, I swear..."

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

"Wait, someone's here making friends with the cat that wants to see you-" Mike inched in first, shoving Boxer into the stairwell as he whined in excitement. She slipped in and giggled, falling to her knees as the dog licked her face. She whined right back at the dog, stopping his tail from brutally killing Michael before she forced herself to get up and let everyone else into her house to check it out. Her parents crawled over every inch of building, missing for hours in the basement as they went through the boxes of photos and found the poster that Rich and Caroline had made them, a few loud laughs echoing up before Scott and Simon disappeared to see what was so funny. Mike, only able to guess what was so funny, curled up on Gemma's lap, faking a sob. Doug stared on in horror as Gemma fiddled with Mike's collar and looked completely at ease with him squirming around, fitting on her lap like a labrador on a toddler's lap.

In the corner, Zilla was batting her declawed paws at Boxer's nose, puzzled and happy with the new playtoy at her disposal, not bothering hissing at it; last time she did that he'd hid behind Gemma for a good ten minutes. They wrestled as best they could with the size difference between them, and their match spurred Gemma and Mike's, a strange sight for Stan and Summer to be greeted with. They watched in bewilderment before Scott leapt forward and pulled Mike from Gemma's shoulders, face angry in the slightest.

Gemma giggled. "You fight one Thompson, you fight them all."

He groaned and sprawled onto his back, hoping some shiny object would distract them for a moment so he could touch her without being duffed up. Fearlessly, Gemma slid forward and put her arms around his neck, sitting just off to his right side. After a few minutes she slid down to her side and put her head on his chest, humming pleasantly, miming guitar movements until Scott snapped his fingers and fled to the basement, returning with the red stained acoustic.

"We heard you play a mean guitar now, and you sing! We have to hear." He insisted, smiling as Sarah squealed and sat across from Gemma with rapt attention.

Mike nudged Gemma's back as she sat up and took the guitar. "'Stand By Me,'" he begged.

So Sarah heard her sing "Stand By Me," followed by quite a few popular Beatles tunes, and one John Lennon song she happened to know all the words to ("Give Peace A Chance," who would guess that he was actually talking?). She was an amazing, phenomonal singer to her family, who had about as much musical talent as a woodchuck. With a little help from the masses, including the late arrival of Angela and her husband and son, they had a fairly good rendition of the song going, and Gemma even threw in the blurbs between lines to keep it interesting, beating the floor to keep a beat. She and Sarah took harmony, leaving the masses to sing the regular part.

"When's the next holiday?" Gemma asked abruptly, strumming some nonsense chords on her guitar.

Angela grinned mechanically. "Valentine's Day!"

With a dismissive snort, Gemma responded, "And after that and St. Patrick's Day and Easter...we have what? Nothing until Summer Solstice?"

Once again, Angela's face lit up like a robot; quick and sudden. "Mike's birthday!"

He swatted at her with a frown, but Gemma looked pleased. "When is it, Michael?"

He wouldn't respond, too busy trying to murder his sister. She choked out the answer, laughter dancing in her eyes and in her voice as she said, "May fifth. Hitting the big two seven."

"You're hitting the big three six, so shut up!" He retorted, though the amusement in his voice was fading.

She looked at Gemma. "When's your birthday?"

"June eleventh," echoed the entire group, adding with simultaneous grins, "the big two five."

Gemma sat in mild shock at her family, shaking her head finally. She hugged her brother Steve once before stalking off to the basement singing at the top of her lungs, hoping someone would hear her words and know they were her own. For once she looked truly happy; the light in her eyes was almost fully restored.




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