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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