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Chapter Seventeen

Brian


The only possible, logical explanation for this, I thought to myself as I was held captive by the occupant of ICU-8's stare, was that this girl was a Backstreet Boys' fan. Or telepathic or... I dunno, something. I stared back at her. "Hi?" I said, confused.

Her shrieking and struggling having stopped, the doctors glanced between her and I as though they were trying to decide what to make of this development. Even my nurse was staring, dumbfounded at me.

"Where is he?" the girl asked.

"You mean... Nick?" I asked.

"Yes, Nick! Where is he? He's here, isn't he? He said he'd be here. I need to find him. He promised he'd be here."

"I - uh --" I looked up at my nurse, then at the gaggle of doctors and nurses surrounding her.

Carrie spoke up, "Nick is in ICU-13."

The girl struggled away from the doctors' grasp and got off the bed, her knees gave out on her. She was rail-thin, her face shallow, her skin kinda pale. But Carrie caught her before she could fall and I jumped up and my nurse moved quick with the wheel chair I'd been in - even she knew this deranged chick needed it more than I did. The girl fell into it, hands shaking, "Take me to him. Please. He knew I was in 8, he made such a huge deal about the number 8, how does he NOT know --"

"But he's --"

"TAKE ME TO HIM!" she screamed.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded.

"I'm Margo," she replied.

"But --"

"NICK!" Margo screamed, "NICK I'M HERE! NICK!"

"Please, miss, don't scream, you're disturbing all the pati--"

"HE SAID HE WOULD BE HERE! I NEED HIM! PLEASE!"

"Can she go visit him?" Carrie asked helplessly.

"Well I mean I - he's -- He wouldn't want a fan to see him --"

"A FAN?" Margo turned in the wheel chair and Carrie panicked and turned the whole thing to face me, afraid Margo was gonna get up. The herd of doctors had moved to surround the two of us, my nurse was nervously holding up her hands around my back as though she expected me to pass out at any moment. Margo stared up at me, her eyes like fire, "I'm no fan."

"Then who the hell are you?" I asked again.

Margo stared at me, "I just spent the last... however long... with him... trying to figure this out, trying to get back here, trying to save our lives. He said he would come back here for me, he said that we'd be together." Margo's eyes were wide with tears.

I stared back at her. Several doctors started mumbling. I'm pretty sure I caught the word psych being passed around behind us.

"But he's in a coma," I said.

Margo's face paled. "He's -- he's not awake?"

I shook my head.

"He's here and he's not awake?"

"No..."

"HE'S HERE? HIS PAUSED BODY IS HERE?" Panic struck her face, "BUT HE THINKS HE'S ON THE BUS! HE'S GOING BACK TO THE TOUR BUS!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Nick figured out that we needed to find ourselves and if we found ourselves then we'd be able to get unpaused! And we found me and it worked, but he thought -- oh fuck, why didn't we realize that he would be here, too? We knew he was in a coma, why didn't I -- stupid. Oh my God, I'm so stupid." She started to sob. "I don't know how to tell him. Oh my God, how do I tell him?" She looked around at the doctors, "PUT ME BACK! PUT ME BACK IN THE COMA! I HAVE TO TELL HIM!"

My mouth was dry. I felt sick to my stomach, but in a weird way. In an almost... good way. "You mean... you... you saw him."

"YES."

I stared at her.

One of the doctors broke away from the others, headed for the nurses station. "Don't call psych," I snapped. He looked up with a guilty expression on her face. I turned to Margo. "Tell me - tell me something that - that you'd only know if you'd really seen him. Tell me something that someone in a coma for the last two years wouldn't know about him." My voice was shaking.

Margo stared back at me, "I don't know what anyone would know about him anyways, without being in a coma for two years. But I found him at the accident... the accident with the eighteen-wheeler. You and him, actually, but you were paused. He paused everything and he pulled you out of the wreck and he got you out onto the grass and he was apologizing like crazy, a big crying mess when I found him. He's been trying to get back since. We came all the way here from the accident to find me and then he was gonna go back because he was sure he'd find himself on his tour bus. Shit, that doesn't even make sense, does it? He would've at least been in the accident to unpause himself." She closed her eyes, "God I'm so fucking stupid."

I couldn't breathe. The nurses and doctors all looked... well, dumbfounded.

"He... he saved me?" I choked out.

"Yeah..." Margo paused. "You woke up for a minute... when he was trying to change the batteries in his remote control, and --" she licked her lips. "We thought you -- he was so upset -- and --" Margo shook her head, "He was upset because he thought you didn't know that he was sorry and he loved you."

Tears filled my eyes, everything became blurry. "He said that?"

She nodded.

"Did.. did I - did he hear me - did --" I choked up.

"You didn't say anything," she said, shaking her head, "You couldn't. You were mostly paused. You tried... but nothing came out." She paused. "I think you were saying his name, though."

My throat burned.

"I think it's cos he moved you. Maybe cause - cause you weren't really there, you know? I don't know what the whole science is behind this stuff -- if there's really a science at all..." Margo's eye were pleading. "Can I please see him?" he asked.

I nodded.

Carrie pushed the wheelchair forward and I shuffled slowly after them. My nurse hustled along after me. The doctors herded after us all, too, mumbling to each other. Carrie pushed Margo in and she struggled to her feet and stood beside Nick, Carrie carefully standing behind her.

"Oh God," Margo whispered. She reached a shaking hand down and rested it gently on Nick's face, on his cheek, right by the tubes and wires and everything. "Nick," she whispered, "Come back to me."

"What exactly is going on here?"

The voice that came from behind me was sharp. I turned around. So did Carrie and my nurse, though Margo was still staring down at Nick. Jane was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, anger flaring in her eyes.

"None of you are authorized to be in here," she snapped. She glared at the nurses, "I'll have your jobs for this." She moved around them quickly, "Get your hands off my son. He's sick, you could kill him with your - your germs," she snarled at Margo.

"Please come back," Margo whispered.

Jane reached to push Margo away from Nick and Carrie stopped her. "She just woke up from a coma, please," Carrie said, "I'll do it." She turned to Margo. "C'mon sweetie."

"No please," Margo whimpered. She grabbed Nick's hand, her eyes wide, begging, as she stared up at Carrie.

"I'm sorry," Carrie said, "This is his mother."

Margo looked at Jane. "Please."

"Get your hands away," Jane snapped.

Carrie gently pulled Margo away, and settled her into the seat. I turned to Jane, "She talked to him. She saw him. She was in a coma for two years, Jane, and she knew -- she knew everything." I shook my head, "That's impossible if she hadn't talked to him."

Jane was staring at me.

"He's in there, Jane," I said, "He's in there and he's just gotta have time to figure out how to get out. That's all he needs is a little more time."

"You're all insane," she said hotly.

"How can you give up on your son so quickly?" I demanded, "How can you at least not believe enough to give him a chance? Isn't Nick worth waiting for?"

"He's coming," Margo shouted, "He'll come back! He'll come for me, he promised, he swore he would, he'll be here."

I pointed at Margo, "Isn't he worth the chance - however slim you may think it is - that she's right?"

Jane stared into my face. "I can't take this," she said, waving her hand at his body laying on the bed, "I can't take seeing my son like this. I just want this over. I want it to end. I want his suffering to end."

"Well I don't," I said, and I drew a deep breath and said, "And as Nick's last legal guardian before he became of age, I refuse to allow you to remove the life support."

I could see the color in her face pale and the nerve drain out of Jane's eyes. She shifted her weight on her feet. "Your guardianship ended the moment he turned eighteen," she hissed.

"So did yours," I replied.

"But I'm his mother, I'm blood. There's a connection there stronger than any piece of paper --"

Carrie stepped between us, "We need the paper work," she said to me, "We need proof before the orders she's placed can be revoked."

"Oh I'll get the paperwork no worries," I replied, my eyes boring into Jane's.

"You have twenty-four hours," Jane replied, "Now get the hell out of my son's room."

I turned, shaking, and shuffled out of the room, Carrie ushering me out, my nurse pushing Margo's wheelchair. I looked back at the room as Jane pulled the curtain open. She'd pulled the iPod away from him, rolled the ear buds around it, and moved Kevin's note to the bedside table. She sat down in the chair next to him and took his hand and patted it, and stared up at him uncomfortably, legs crossed as she leaned back in the chair.