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Post by drake fitzgerald minor III on Jan 3, 2009 21:57:54 GMT -5
Drake was almost as relieved as Jack was when the older man let him go. Not that he wasn’t happy to be receiving a hug instead of a punch, but really, it felt a little weird. He hadn’t even realized that Mystic’s dad was fond enough of him to care if he died, beyond, of course, the effect that would have on Mystic. And it wasn’t like they were in front of Mystic; he’d gone to special effort to make sure of that. But once Jack let go, he decided to stop trying to figure it out, and focused on what he was actually saying. Something about going home? And he was giving Drake an excuse? That wasn’t very likely. There was absolutely no way he was going to sneak out of the hospital when the woman he loved needed him. Anyway, if he’d absolutely felt compelled to go home and sleep, if he’d really thought he just couldn’t go any longer without sleep, he would have mustered up the courage to go and tell Mystic the truth about that. Chances were, she’d understand anyhow, and he wasn’t going to make up excuses to get out of having to stay there.
”Sir,” he said, clearing his throat. ”As much as I appreciate the...uh...” He fell silent as Jack walked away, apparently not noticing and/or caring that Drake was answering him, and waited, feeling a little awkward as Jack disappeared into the room without him. Drake wanted to follow, but something about the dismissive way Jack had walked off made him hesitate. A moment later, he came back. Drake didn’t initially notice anything about Jack’s expression that set off any alarms in his head, but that might have been because Jack looked so gruff normally that a look of dissatisfaction didn’t seem out of place. But when he spoke, Drake knew something wasn’t right.
Everything in him wanted to run to see Mystic, to see what was wrong with her that she so desperately needed blood, but he wasn’t going to disobey that tone of voice, or the urgency it held. He took off, headed for the nurses’ station, quickening his pace and nearly skidding around a corner as the hall curved. He came to an abrupt halt in front of the desk, and luckily, hadn’t been running long enough to lose his breath, so he could talk with relative success. Relative and not complete because, while his voice was fine, he was in a state of near-panic.
”Mystic needs you, fast.” he said, realizing that he didn’t even know what was wrong with her. For all he knew, her dad could be playing some sick joke on him, making him look like a complete head case when Mystic was just fine. Somehow, he didn’t think so, though. His daughter’s health didn’t strike Drake as something Jack would joke around about. ”And...uh, she needs blood. She’s bleeding. Or something. Please just come. ” He realized that he sounded desperate, but he wasn’t sure what he’d do if something happened to Mystic. That wouldn’t be fair, it just wouldn’t. Surely they couldn’t have gone through all of this, endured the separation, heartbreak, and then been brought back together just to have her taken away from him this quickly?
Without waiting to make sure that the nurse was following him, because he was pretty sure that she would, he turned and ran back down the hall, nearly running over an orderly who was coming around the corner towards him. He called a quick apology back over his shoulder, but didn’t stop as he raced back to Mystic’s room, looking around for her dad as he neared the door. He put his hand out, took hold of the doorknob, and hesitated, not sure if he wanted to see what he’d find inside. Please, let her be all right... he thought, fervently praying to whatever powers might be listening. [/blockquote]
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mystic pearl adier
Junior Member
Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out. Find nothin' but faith in nothin'.
Posts: 74
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Post by mystic pearl adier on Jan 3, 2009 23:09:14 GMT -5
» Joke or not, nurses always took patients' family or loved ones coming to get them seriously, keeping in mind that things they get alarmed over might not be all that bad. Besides, it wasn't like a whole lot else was going on that day. The nurse that got up was bored, and even if this ended up being nothing, he would just be glad to have something to do. He stood, following the seemingly worried young man down the hall to the room. He stepped past Drake, into the room, took one look at Mystic, and instantly determined the job was too big for him alone. Asking Jack to leave the room, he pushed the Nurse button on the side of the bed, and then the on on the wall to summon a doctor, both of whom ran down the hall and entered the room, closing the door behind them. Soon realizing they couldn't do a whole lot in the room, they wheeled Mystic out and back into the nearest available OR, with one of the nurses hurriedly explaining what they were going to do before running off.
» After some hurried blood transfusions and various other things being done, they took Mystic not back to her room, but to Recovery so they could watch her for a good while. If she started bleeding again, they would need to catch it quickly, because it wasn't like she had a whole lot of blood left to lose. They watched her for about an hour, with no further incident, and then decided it was safe to take her back to her room- especially considering there were two people there would would undoubtedly be watching her like a hawk. After starting three IVs- one for fluids, one for another unit of blood, and one for a medicine to help her clot- they finally took Mystic back to her room. But before allowing the two men inside, the nurse wanted to give them instructions. "She lost a lot of blood again, but we're pretty sure we have it under control now." He went on to explain that, though she was stable now, Mystic was still missing a lot of blood- blood that their blood bank didn't really have the means to replace. So if she started bleeding again, she was pretty well fucked (not in so many words, but that was the basic gist.) At which point, he stated that they were permitted to go back into the room, and left.
» Mystic slept for a good long while afterward, appearing strangely calm as she slept, and her father sitting in a chair beside her the whole time. Jack considered using Drake as a go-fer for some coffee, but decided now was not the time to do such things. Some other time, though, he would totally do it- just for laughs. He was half-asleep- being old, it was getting increasingly hard to stay awake as long as his younger counterparts- when he heard some stirring and looked up to see Mystic starting to open her eyes. "Where's-" "Shhh," Jack said quickly. Mystic was obviously weak, and he didn't want her wasting what little energy she had on asking that question. "You killed him, didn't you?" Jack smiled a little, suddenly getting a mischievous idea. "No... I just threatened to kill him. Pansy ran off." What he failed to take into account was that the door wasn't totally shut, and well, it was just about time- unless there was a side-trip of some sort- for Drake to return.
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Post by drake fitzgerald minor III on Jan 4, 2009 21:43:23 GMT -5
Drake, incredibly worried, paced the hallway outside of Mystic’s room almost frantically, in spite of the fact that she wasn’t even in the room at present. They wouldn’t let him into the OR, and he was about to have a panic attack thinking of all the things that could be going wrong in there. They could be cutting her open or something. they could be trying to stop some horrible bleeding...again. What if he lost her? God, he didn’t want to think about that. It was amazing how quickly he’d gotten accustomed to centering his life around her again, after thinking he’d never see her again. The thought of not having her there...it made him wonder how the hell he ever did that to begin with? How had he managed to carry on with his life, have a job, keep walking around, hell, keep breathing before when he’d thought she wasn’t going to be a part of the rest of his life?
Maybe he hadn’t remembered as much back then as he thought he had. Maybe he’d remembered facts instead of actual feelings, sort of a detached way of remembering things, as if he were remembering someone else’s life instead of his own. Whatever the case, he couldn’t fathom it now. Living without Mystic was simply unacceptable. And for that reason, he chose to block the possibility out of his mind. He stopped pacing, and took a few deep breaths, trying not to push himself into hyperventilation. He had to get ahold of himself.
Also, he really, really, really had to take a piss. Calming himself down had helped him realize that. Maybe that was why he’d been so jittery...well, in addition to the thinking about losing Mystic. He made his way off to the men’s room, and went about his business before heading back. Mystic wasn’t in her room still, and he wandered off to the OR, trying to get a look through the doors to see if she might still be in there, but he couldn’t see anything. He went back to her room, and drank a cup of water from the pitcher that was there. Still nothing. On his second trip back to the OR, a nurse caught him by the arm and told him that they’d taken her to Recovery. Drake went there, and decided that since she was asleep, he’d go find some caffeine out of a vending machine.
He left again, headed back to a machine he’d seen when he was looking for the nurse’s station the first time. Locating it, he dug into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and rummaging through it until he found a crumpled dollar bill. He flattened it as best as he could, and inserted it into the blinking dollar slot on the machine, which promptly spat it right back out. Sighing, he put it back in, only to receive the exact same result. He repeated this action three times before it finally decided to accept his money, then pushed the button for a Coke, only to have the machine blink an angry “SOLD OUT - PLEASE SELECT AGAIN”. Letting out a strangled noise of frustration, he punched the buttons up and down the machine until finally it spat out a Mountain Dew. At least it was caffeine, he told himself, opening it and guzzling half of it down.
Quieting several belches, he went back to recovery, only to discover that they’d sent Mystic back to her room. He went there, and sat down for a few moments, watching her sleep, before he realized that he had to go to the bathroom again, and got up to go do so.
When he came back, Mystic’s father was sitting there, and Drake poked his head into the door cautiously, not wanting to interrupt if they were talking, since it looked like Mystic was finally awake. Not hearing any serious conversing, he slipped into the room, and stood, hesitantly, by the door, waiting for her to look up at him. He didn’t want to rush over to her - well, actually, he wanted nothing more than to rush over to her. But he didn’t want to scare her. He had no idea what was making her bleed in the first place, and the last thing he wanted was to make it start again. For all he knew, being startled could do that...maybe.
But as he was stepping inside, he overheard her father saying something about him running off. What was that? That was ridiculous. He hadn't run off randomly, he'd been taking a leak, for God's sake. "Um.." he said, raising a hand to rub the back of his head. "Actually, I'm here now." [/blockquote]
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mystic pearl adier
Junior Member
Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out. Find nothin' but faith in nothin'.
Posts: 74
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Post by mystic pearl adier on Jan 4, 2009 22:43:58 GMT -5
» Mystic didn't believe her father for a second, but didn't openly tell him so. He did have a tendency to stretch the truth sometimes, and besides- she knew Drake wouldn't really just leave, at least not without saying goodbye. So she said nothing, but nodded a little, sure there was a good explanation for why Drake wasn't in her immediate line of vision. She wouldn't blame him for wanting to take a walk or get some caffeine or something- hell, she would probably be doing the same thing if he was the one hospitalized and he was asleep for an extended period of time. As much as they loved each other, damn, it was boring and really hard to watch someone sleeping. She wasn't sure how long her father had been there, either, but if he had been there a while he was probably making Drake uncomfortable. Mystic, of course, was immune to this, but knew what effect the man had on other people.
» As soon as she heard Drake's voice, she started giggling. It wouldn't be particularly funny to a bystander, but for some reason, Mystic found it hilarious. "Ran away, huh?" she managed to say between giggles, eventually slowing them down so she could breathe. She turned so she could see Drake, and smiled. "Hi..." She wanted so bad to ask him to lay down with her again, but with her father there... It was pretty much out of the question. Sure, they were much older, and really could do whatever they wanted, since they were adults, but Jack being there would just make it way too awkward. Besides, they had never really been huge on displaying affection in front of him, besides holding hands or hugging, or a quick peck. Jack knew more than that went on, but it still seemed right not to do anything in front of him.
» Surprisingly, Mystic was pretty comfortable. Aside from being slightly sore- which was actually more an irritating inconvenience than anything- she didn't feel much pain, and no longer wished they would just give her the damn drugs already give her something to take the edge off. If she didn't know any better, she would be tempted to get up and go see her babies now- but considering what she saw when she looked at the clock, thought he numbers were fuzzy because her eyesight was crap, coupled with how little she remembered of the last couple hours, she figured something must have backtracked her, and assumed she must have to stay laying down for a while. That didn't mean she would just accept having to stay still.
» "I want to go see them," she said quietly, looking from Drake to her father and back again, repeatedly, as if judging which of them she could convince to get a nurse- which could she get to believe that she was even okay enough to go anywhere besides the spot where she currently lay? "Really, I'm fine," she said, as if that would do any good. She was a little lightheaded, but it was fine, as far as she was concerned. If it got worse when or if she sat up or stood, she could always just lean on the wall, or one of them. She would see them, today, one way or the other. If she had to, she would wait until both of the men got kicked out due to visiting hours being over, and then sneak down to see the boys. She wasn't normally this adamant about things, but damn it, she wanted to see her babies. It wasn't right, she thought, that they weren't being held by her, or someone whose voice they would recognize.
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Post by drake fitzgerald minor III on Jan 5, 2009 22:49:07 GMT -5
Drake was mildly irritated at first, but Mystic seemed to think it was funny, and a smile spread across his face slowly as she laughed. "Yeah, I ran away to conquer the toilet demons." he said, pushing the door almost shut behind him. He figured he could give Jack a little room for messing with him; after all, Drake had massively interfered in his daughter's life - not just once, but twice. And now they were living together. And they were engaged. Not that Jack knew about that last part yet, heck, Drake hadn't known about it himself until an hour ago or whatever. He'd kind of lost track of time, what with the whole Mystic-bleeding crisis. Then he'd had that argument with the vending machine, and by the time he'd gotten back, he had no idea if it was late morning, early afternoon, or early evening. Maybe it was the middle of the night. He doubted that; there was still a little light coming in through the window although they'd drawn the curtains to give Mystic a little rest time.
It was incredibly good to see her awake again. Drake hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her in what felt like forever, back before her father had come out of the room with that look on his face and ordered Drake off to find a nurse. She seemed a little groggy at first, but now she was asking to go see the babies, and Drake wasn't sure how to answer that. He had a feeling the nurses wouldn't be too happy if he just started pushing her bed around in the hospital, and he couldn't imagine that he'd be able to talk Jack into keeping track of the various tubes and things Mystic needed. He could just picture that...him pushing her bed along down the hall trying to evade nurses, Jack huffing and puffing alongside him dragging the IV. Yes, that would work well. Not.
He had to think of something to tell her, though; he couldn't just ignore her and hope she forgot about her question. That wasn't very likely, that she'd forget about her newborn babies and her desire to see them. "Er, sweetheart, I'm not sure that's the best idea." he told her. "Right now, I mean. Maybe...maybe I can talk to one of the nurses and see about them bringing the babies here." Drake was getting good at talking to nurses by now, and that sounded like a better idea anyway, because from what he'd heard, the babies hadn't been in any danger of bleeding to death the way Mystic apparently had. Maybe they could be moved. Plus, they were a lot smaller and it was a lot less trouble to wheel their little bed-cart things around, he thought, than it would be to haul Mystic around and make sure she wasn't bleeding the whole time.
Without waiting for her to answer, he poked his head outside the door and started looking around for a nurse he could get. He didn't want to wait for her to argue, because when Mystic made up her mind to do something, few people, not even Drake, could deter her from getting it done, and he didn't want to get involved in that kind of fuss. And he didn't want to push the button in the room because then they'd think something was seriously wrong. Luckily, another nurse happened to be walking by, and Drake waved him over. "Um, my...fiance wants to see our babies." he said. "And I don't know if she ought to be moved, so I was wondering if maybe they could come here? I mean, if someone could bring them here?" He was a little distracted, having just realized that he'd said "fiance" in a loud enough voice that Mystic's dad might have heard it. But then, he was old, and he might not have.
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mystic pearl adier
Junior Member
Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out. Find nothin' but faith in nothin'.
Posts: 74
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Post by mystic pearl adier on Jan 8, 2009 22:01:57 GMT -5
» Mystic didn't say anything as Drake tried to tell her it was a bad idea, but frowned a little, watching him go to the door before she had a chance to protest. She heard him talking, and was confused at first, but then realized he was talking to a nurse, and decided then to protest. "I could walk," Mystic called after him, loud enough to be heard but not quite shouting. She wanted to see her babies, though she knew she probably couldn't even make it across the room walking, much less all the way down the hall to whatever nursery the babies happened to be residing in. It might not work, but she would damn sure try.
» Without waiting for a response, or permission, Mystic looked at the IVs in her hand and, without a second thought, reached with the other hand to pull them out, only to be stopped by Jack. Her father frowned, looking quite bemused by his "innocent" little daughter's sudden rebellious act. She had done it sporadically as a child, usually when he wouldn't let her do something because he thought she was incapable- walking to work instead of driving or having him take her, or walking to school, things like that- and so he handled it as he always had. He made her a deal: "Okay," he said, shifting a little in his chair. "If you can sit up on your own, I will pilfer you a wheelchair and take you to see them." He knew how badly she wanted to see her babies, but he didn't want her to fall ill near them, or worse- start bleeding again. Mystic paused, and nodded. "Alright." She placed her hands on the bed on either side of her waist and slowly hauled herself into a sitting position, only to groan. She was feeling very dizzy- probably from all the blood loss. Jack immediately placed his hands on her shoulders and lowered her back down, shaking his head. "Sorry... You'll just have to wait a while." He knew Mystic would honor her end of the deal- no leaving the room until she could sit up without feeling dizzy.
» Jack didn't hear what Drake said. He heard basic sounds, but his hearing wasn't what it used to be, and so he didn't really hear anything incriminating. If he had... well, his reaction was up in the air. He might get angry about not being asked first, or happy for Mystic, or probably just drag Drake back out into the hall for another questionably-manly hug or serious talk.
» Outside in the hall, the nurse checked the chart in his hand. He had actually been on his way to check on Mystic and make sure she was feeling well when Drake intercepted him, so he had the chart with him- basically to know her allergies and such. After looking at the sheet another nurse had prepared, knowing Mystic or someone with her would demand to know how the babies were, he frowned, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he said, "They really can't be moved. Baby A is under ultraviolet lights, for some jaundice, and baby B is having a little trouble breathing, so we're giving him some help." He paused for a second, then added quickly, "They're both doing well, though. We expect them to improve quickly. A weighed..." He consulted his papers. "Four pounds, six ounces, and B weight four pounds, nine ounces."
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Post by drake fitzgerald minor III on Jan 8, 2009 23:19:33 GMT -5
Well, that didn't seem fair, Drake thought. Mystic had spent hours of gut-wrenching (literally) labor, endured excruciating pain, and now she couldn't even see her babies? He wanted to grab the nurse and shake him, but he wasn't so incensed that he actually thought it was the guy's fault, so he refrained from doing so. Instead, he sighed, loudly, in order to voice his displeasure, and ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "So there's no way she can see our babies? At all?" He wanted to see them himself, but he wasn't about to go and leave Mystic alone. Her dad was likely to say crazy things about him in his absence. Heck, he already had when Drake hadn't even been gone five minutes. What would he do if Drake decided to take a little field trip to the nursery? He'd probably convince Mystic that Drake had died...again. Instead, he offered a somewhat disgruntled thanks to the nurse, and stepped back into the room.
"Um, they said the babies can't leave the nursery right now. Something about...jaundice and like...breathing problems." He couldn't remember which baby had which. Which one was baby A and which one was baby B, anyway? Was A the one with rounder cheeks? Or was A the one with less hair? Gah, he couldn't remember. He was a horrible father already. He couldn't even tell his children apart. Granted, they were identical, but still, weren't parents supposed to always know the difference? His parents had always been able to tell Isobel and Felicity apart, after all, even when they were dressed the same. "But he said they're fine, too, he thinks...or something..." What had the guy said? Drake was a little flustered, and felt a little sick to his stomach. That drink hadn't gone down quite right, he figured.
He sat down beside her, edging his way in beside Jack, who looked a little smug about something. Drake wondered what had happened while he was outside the room, but he didn't want to interfere, especially since Jack seemed to have ended up on top of whatever it was. He had a feeling that might open up an explanation he wasn't in the mood to hear, so he let it rest, and grabbed Mystic's hand instead. "How are you feeling?" he asked. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure what had gone wrong with her, but he knew it had been dangerous, and he didn't want to push her, or make her feel like she had to get up. "I'm going to call a nurse and ask if they have a camera, and I'll go get some pictures, all right?" He knew she'd suggested that a few moments ago, but he really didn't want to leave her, so he leaned over and pushed the button, hoping it wouldn't make anyone panic. He only pushed it once, anyway, so hopefully not a lot of frantic beeping or whatever other noise it made would come through on the other end.
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mystic pearl adier
Junior Member
Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out. Find nothin' but faith in nothin'.
Posts: 74
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Post by mystic pearl adier on Jan 10, 2009 23:46:36 GMT -5
» "No way," the nurse admitted, offering a smile and an apology. "I'm sorry, really. But if it helps any, they shouldn't be there too long. A couple hours, maybe- a few days at the most." He honestly didn't know for sure. There was no way they could predict how long either baby would need special care, because there were too many variables- one or both could develop new problems, have a really bad setback, develop an infection, or maybe they would recover abnormally fast. He'd seen pretty much the entire spectrum- babies that started out doing perfectly and tanked, and ones that started out incredibly sick that ended up perfect. It just depended on the baby, and how much of a fighter they were.
"But he said they're fine, too, he thinks...or something..."
» Mystic frowned a little, but remained silent for a while, as if processing what Drake told her. "They'll be fine," she finally said in her usual quiet voice, not seeming too sure about it. Like the other nurse, she had seen babies go both way; and after all she'd been through, she wouldn't believe her own babies were healthy until she could take them home. And even then, would she ever believe they were okay? She could already see herself by their cribs constantly, if only to make sure they were still breathing. She might never sleep again.
» On top of the obvious worrying, Mystic couldn't help but feel guilty as well. At 36 weeks, the babies were still considered premature. Had she done something wrong? She had complied with the strict bed rest the doctor ordered, despite hating it. But was there anything else she could have done? Maybe she shouldn't have sat up so much, and some of the times she got up to go to the bathroom- couldn't she have held it? It was ridiculous, sure. Mystic did everything she could. But that didn't stop her from feeling as though she was somehow responsible for this. The thought made her sniffle a little bit, before she reminded herself that she was trying to do that less often, because it upset Drake and really, she didn't want to feel like a pansy anymore.
» Pictures... Yes, she wanted some. A lot of them. If she couldn't go to them and they couldn't come to her, she wanted some way to actually see them, have something to look at later on, after everyone else got kicked out of her room. "Take a lot of them. From every angle you can manage." Hey, he would get a 3-D view, and she wanted one too. "Maybe some extras for your other kids?" It was stupid, but Mystic honestly didn't know what day it was for a second there, and wasn't sure if Drake had to, or would even want to, go teach tomorrow. She didn't know what he'd told his students, either.
» "You do know that button is for emergencies?" She giggled a little at him, and even more so when a nurse burst through the door, looking ready to call for a code cart. "It's okay... Do you guys know where the camera is? He wants to take some of the babies," she said to the nurse, and indicated Drake. Her father would probably get lost on the way there, or stop to flirt with a nurse- she didn't trust him to be the one to go, as much as she wanted Drake to stay with her. "Sure. Come with me." The nurse left the room, indicating that Drake should follow her.
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Post by drake fitzgerald minor III on Jan 18, 2009 18:13:57 GMT -5
Drake let the guy go; he knew it probably wasn't easy being in a profession where you had to tell people things they didn't want to hear. He hoped he'd never have to be the one to come out of an operating room, or out of someone's hospital room, and say "We did the best we could." That was what doctors said when people died, right? Well, that was how it was on TV, but Drake wasn't naive enough to think that everything went as it did on hospital dramas. On hospital dramas, people had relationships that were relatively straight forward most of the time. His and Mystic's relationship, its progression...that was so complicated that Drake was overwhelmed by how incredibly real it was. After all, no one could have thought that up in a script, come up with the twists and turns their lives had.
He listened closely to what Mystic was saying, not because he didn't know what kinds of pictures he ought to be taking, but because he knew it was probably important to her to be able to have some input into what he was doing. He felt guilty about being able to go and see the babies when she couldn't; he wasn't the one who'd spent hours of anguish in labor with them. "I'll take as many as I can." he promised. He gave her a quick kiss, and followed the nurse out of the room.
Drake didn't know who gave him the camera, he didn't even remember the walk to the nursery because as soon as he got within sight of the babies, everything else seemed to fade into the background. He lost track of time, lost track of anyone else but himself and the babies, and he took pictures as he saw them, from the side, from above, closeups of little hands and feet...he took pictures until the camera ran out of film and he had a fistful of developing polaroids, and then he stood there and watched the babies some more. He could tell them apart, too, even though they were supposedly identical. He could tell that one of them had cheeks that were just a bit fatter than the other, and that one had a tendency to curl and uncurl his left hand, while the other seemed to like randomly flailing both hands more than lying still.
If someone had asked him a year ago whether he was ready to be a father, he probably would have replied (with some nervous laughter) that he had his hands full with the kids he already dealt with at school. But standing here, looking down at his children, he realized that this was all he ever wanted to do, all he ever wanted to be; father to these boys and the best husband he could possibly be to Mystic. It wasn’t so much a revelation as it was a clarification of something he’d already felt but hadn’t put to words yet. ”This is it...” he murmured. And by it, he meant the beginning of the rest of his life, the beginning of him becoming the person he’d been on his way to becoming for so long now.
He left the room finally, after what seemed like a few short moments, but what was really more like an hour. He knew Mystic would want to see the pictures, and if he didn’t hurry back, she might send Jack down after him, which Drake certainly didn’t want. He felt a twinge of guilt, though, as he left the babies. He loved them so completely, he thought, and he might not even be their biological father. That didn’t bother him for the reasons one might expect it to, not at all, he was more than willing to raise them and be their father regardless. It was simply that he felt incredibly guilty that the man who might be their father was dead, would never have the opportunity to feel this sense of incredible love and responsibility.
And that was when the idea struck him. It came to him as he was thinking of the missing person in the picture, the person who had made the picture so distorted, but without whom the picture might not exist. He quickened his pace, and as he came to Mystic’s room, he almost burst in the door, catching himself at the last moment and opening it quietly. He hurried to her side, and sat down on the vacant chair next to Jack. ”Mystic.” he said, taking her hand. ”I think...I think I thought of it. I mean, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to but I was thinking that because of everything that’s happened, we might consider it...What I mean to say is that...Well, I think that maybe it would be...good...or nice, I mean, appropriate, if we named Baby B Flannery.”
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mystic pearl adier
Junior Member
Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out. Find nothin' but faith in nothin'.
Posts: 74
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Post by mystic pearl adier on Jan 19, 2009 1:25:26 GMT -5
» Mystic didn't notice how long Drake was gone, though if she had she would have started worrying. Had he randomly conked out somewhere? Was there a nurse she didn't know that was raping him? Had he all of a sudden lost interest? She probably would have waited for a while longer before sending her father on a search and rescue mission. But, fortunately, she didn't notice, because she managed to slip into another nap. For a while, at least, everything was quiet, except for the sounds of the monitors beeping, and Mystic and Jack breathing (which isn't as dirty as it sounds.) No more bleeding yet, thankfully, and all seemed well. Mystic slept peacefully for nearly the whole time Drake was gone, waking up shortly before his return to see her father watching the monitors carefully. "I'm fine," she told him with a weak smile. She was feeling better, but not quite well; a bit light-headed, which was what kept her from attempting to sit up again.
» Turning her head to the sound of the door opening, Mystic smiled brightly, but then frowned, looking worried as Drake took her hand. Was something wrong? Had one of the babies- both?- taken a turn for the worse, or, even worse, died? Maybe she was misreading his expression entirely, and only thought she saw impending bad news. She almost laughed a little while he tried to fumble through whatever he was trying to say. It was charming, the fumbling, though if it went on for too long she might get tempted to whack him upside the head with the IV pole. "Get on with it, already!" Even even-tempered Mystic could get irritated if she wanted to know something and whoever was trying to tell her took forever to do so. She had never really gotten pissed about it before, because usually people could tell she was getting irritated and take the hint.
» She was relieved when Drake finally seemed to be getting around to it, and by the time he finished talking, she was completely confused. She'd been so consumed with trying to telepathically tell him to get to the point that she'd missed the fabled point. She thought she heard something, but it couldn't be right. He wanted to name the other baby after the dead guy Flannery? No, that couldn't be right. Why would he want to do that? Mystic remained silent for a second, just holding Drake's hand, and thinking, hoping he wouldn't interject with more information. "I, uh..." she halted her speech again, unsure how to actually convert her thoughts to words.
» But then she glanced past him, toward the window. There was still a bit of light coming through the blinds. Late evening, she assumed. Was it still the same day? There was a small calendar tacked to the wall near the window. She squinted at it, and though she couldn't quite see the numbers, she could see and count the slash marks, and hope they were updated each day (she, personally, was teased all the time by other nurses because of her obsessive-compulsive nature as far as making sure calendars were updated). Of course, they were, as she she (quickly) counted the slash marks, she gasped softly, covering her mouth with her free hand. "Oh my God," she whispered, allowing her hand to drop. How had she forgotten? Well, considering the way her day was going, she doubted anyone would expect her to remember, or be hurt by her lack of remembering, the birthday of a dead man. "Today would have been his birthday..." For the first time in a while, she was visibly forcing herself not to cry- a huge feat for her, judging by her inability to keep from doing so for months after Flannery's death.
» There were so many reasons Mystic had to be totally enthralled by Drake's perfection. He was gorgeous, for one, but besides that. He was just... perfect. She'd be adamant about that. He didn't have to be stepping up like he was, especially knowing that the newborns stood a chance of not actually being his, and even if they were, she suspected he knew she wouldn't make him be a dad. She'd given him a chance to leave- a really long time ago, though she was a little foggy on exactly when. Wasn't there someone else for him? Couldn't he move on? He didn't have to be tied down with her, if he didn't want to. He was still young- they both were- and was just starting to remember his life. It was before Flannery died, she knew that much, because she remembered telling him he shouldn't wait, or didn't have to- something along those lines. In any case, she was infinitely glad to have him, and infinitely glad he was strong enough to hold her while she mourned another man; strong enough to know that, even though she loved them both, and it might seem to an outsider that she was with Drake by default, that she was with him because she really did love him, more than anything (except, now, her babies.)
» Lightly chewing on her lower lip, Mystic finally managed to regain her composure. "Are you sure?" she asked quietly, looking him in the eyes. She would love her babies no mater what they were named, but such a significant one... she couldn't say no. But she had to know Drake was sure. What if he was just suggesting it to be nice, and really had no intention of accepting an answer of "yes"? Was he prepared to help raise a child named after the very man Mystic had been married to before everything went haywire? "Because I'm fine with it... if you are."
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Post by drake fitzgerald minor III on Jan 19, 2009 19:51:00 GMT -5
Drake had been entirely unaware of the date’s significance to Mystic. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d stalked Flannery after he’d found out he was married to Mystic. It hadn’t been that kind of reaction. He had been sad, of course, but mostly confused, because at the time, he was still very much lost as to who he even was. He certainly hadn’t felt angry enough to track Flannery down and find out things so trivial as his birthday. But he felt bad for not knowing, even if he couldn’t have been expected to, because he knew it was important to Mystic.
”Oh...” he breathed, not sure how to respond to that. He wanted to be sympathetic, but he wasn’t sure how to express it. It would be a little weird if he started crying over the loss of a dude he’d barely known (and who had been married to the woman he loved, and done all the things with her that people who were married did together). But he wasn’t heartless, far from it, as was evidenced by the fact that he’d even shared the idea with her.
Was he all right with it? Yes, Drake thought, he was. It was the least he could do, for the guy who’d stood by Mystic, who’d taken care of her when Drake had been unable to. All Flannery had been guilty of was loving Mystic, and Drake could hardly blame him for that. Loving Mystic was one of the easiest things in the world, as far as Drake was concerned, and he could hardly fault another man for doing it, especially when Drake had been supposed to be dead at the time. After all, Drake had done something even worse; he’d slept with Mystic when Flannery was alive and kicking and very much married to her.
”It’s...it’s fine with me, really.” he assured her. It wasn’t as if he’d picture another guy on top of Mystic everytime he said the little boy’s name - he had never harbored that kind of jealousy towards Flannery. It was odd, but maybe the way he felt about Flannery and Mystic’s relationship might have had something to do with the way he and Mystic had managed to either forget about it or disregard it when he’d first found her again. Strange, he thought, that he’d never felt particularly threatened by the other man. Maybe that had been because he’d known that in the end it would come down to what Mystic wanted, it would be her decision and no one else’s. Whatever the case, Drake hadn’t hated Flannery before, and he thought it would be a fitting tribute to name one of the babies after him. After all, they were naming one after Drake - well, after his grandfather, one might say, so it was only fair, since they might well be his babies anyway.
”All I know is if it were me, I mean, if I weren’t the one sitting here, and if I...I just...I think it would be nice. Because he...he loved you. He loved you when I couldn’t, and I owe him a lot for that.” [/size]
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mystic pearl adier
Junior Member
Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out. Find nothin' but faith in nothin'.
Posts: 74
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Post by mystic pearl adier on Jan 20, 2009 21:30:40 GMT -5
» Mystic paused for a second, then smiled and nodded her approval. "Okay," she said quietly. She was glad to have naming out of the way. As much as she loved her babies, naming things was always a pain in the butt, and she hated doing it. When she was younger and they finally managed to find a pet that didn't either have Mystic sneezing every two seconds or ceasing to breathe, they tried leaving it up to her to name the pet, and after a couple of nameless days, eventually took matters into their own hands. It was the one "documented" case of Mystic being indecisive. But then again, it was understandable. What if she chose a name for the dog that was hard to say for others, or made the dog feel bad about itself? The decision wouldn't affect just her. Same with her babies. She didn't want them to get names that would get them slaughtered on the playground; of course, if Drake hadn't suggested names, she would have eventually came up with something- it just would have taken a while.
» She was about to say something else, perhaps ask if Drake managed to obtain the pictures during his absence, when there was a knock at the door. Mystic frowned a little, glancing in its direction. She paused for a second before realizing that it must be hospital staff of some sort- and they wouldn't come into the room without being told to come in (especially with the older patients with visitors- you'd be surprised at all the kinky hospital sex that goes on). Rolling her eyes, she called out a quiet "Come in?" A nurse walked in, gently informing both Drake and Jack that visiting hours were almost over, and they would need to leave soon. Mystic didn't want to be alone- she would love it if Drake could spend the night with her- but she wouldn't make a fuss about it. She didn't like it when hospital visitors gave her a hard time about leaving after visiting hours, and didn't want to be a pain in the ass. Besides, she knew the rules. And she needed her sleep. If Drake- or Jack, for that matter- stayed, she would be too preoccupied with conversation, or making sure they were getting sleep to get any herself. Sighing, she gave Drake's hand a little squeeze. "It's okay. Go home and get some sleep. Come back after school. I'll survive." She gave him a reassuring smile, and though she wanted to give him a kiss, she refrained- with some effort. It would be too weird, what with her father sitting right there and all. Jack stood and leaned over, giving her a kiss on the cheek before exiting.
» "I'll survive" would become a debatable term by the time the next early-afternoon rolled around. Though Mystic did well through the night, sleeping soundly and even eating a little bit in the morning- though the hospital food was putrid- managing to sit and and, most importantly to her, see her babies for a short while. It was a short visit, but she stayed long enough to be able to tell them apart as well, subtle differences that only a loving parent could really notice or care about. She made sure that they had their name tag things filled out- "Baby Boy Minor 1(/2)" seemed a bit cold, and she- and she was sure they- felt better once their full names were on there. Damn, they were cute. The cutest babies in the world. But she was biased. Anyway, shortly after her visit, after being put back in her room for (hopefully) a nap, a nurse came to check on her, take her vitals and such, and found that she had a temperature, as well as some pretty bad abdominal pain. Just as a precaution, the nurse called in a doctor to examine Mystic, and just as the doctor was about to simply prescribe some anti-biotics and leave, Mystic started bleeding again and was rushed back to the OR- the only evidence being random medical supplies scattered on the floor and empty space where her bed had once been. Around the same time, another young woman was also taken to the OR- and, ironically, her family hadn't arrived yet either, and the nurses weren't the same ones who already knew what the family looked like...
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Post by drake fitzgerald minor III on Jan 21, 2009 23:28:13 GMT -5
Drake was about to give her the pictures when the nurse came in. He really didn't want to leave Mystic; he'd done enough leaving her, he thought, for one lifetime, and every time he had to go away from her, he had the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that maybe it would be the last time he saw her. That was incredibly pessimistic, especially for Drake, who had once been quite optimistic by nature, but he couldn't shake it. He'd come too close to being killed himself, so close that the fragile nature of human life was painfully clear to him, perhaps more clear than it was to a lot of other people who hadn't had similar experiences. He knew how quickly life could be taken away, and Mystic had already been in danger once that day. But he knew he couldn't exactly have a showdown with the nurses right there in her room, or they probably wouldn't let him back in even when he would usually be allowed to be there.
So instead, he pushed the pictures into her hand, (except for one, which he took to show to his students, as Mystic had suggested) and leaned over to kiss her quickly. "I'll come back as soon as I can." he promised, thinking to himself how glad he was that he had only morning classes (and no field trips like the fateful one that had brought them back together). He walked out of the room with the strangest feeling, like there was something he was forgetting to do. That was silly; there wasn't anything he was forgetting, was there? Pushing those thoughts aside, he left, and headed home.
Home wasn't the same without Mystic. He busied himself cooking some hot pockets, eating them, then getting ready for bed, but the bed felt cold and empty without her in it, and he didn't get much sleep regardless of her instructions to do just that. He woke up the next morning, not feeling a lot better than he had the night before, and went about his usual morning routine, trying to pretend like things were normal. He showered, dressed, headed to the school, and managed to make it through the hour of prep time before the kids showed up without turning into too much of a nervous wreck. Once they were there, he had his hands too full to focus on much else, and he managed to use up a good twenty minutes of class time passing around the polaroid he'd taken the night before. It was a shot of the babies in their adjacent incubators, and he'd managed to fit them in the same frame.
The kids were enthralled, and the picture was passed from hand to hand around the room, leaving smudgy fingerprints on it by the time it got back to Drake. "Did everyone get a chance to see the picture?" He made sure they all had, then put it behind his desk, and continued the lesson, although he was pretty sure none of them were focused on social studies by the time they were done. The class was finally over, and he watched the children file out, trying not to look as anxious as he was for them to be gone. They were good kids, one of the better behaved classes he'd taught, but he wanted to go see Mystic and the babies, and he couldn't do that until the kids left.
As soon as the last one was out the door, he grabbed his coat and scarf and headed out of the room. The drive to the hospital was as short as Drake always made it, and he hurried inside, making his way to Mystic's room. He turned the corner, opened her door, and stepped inside...then noticed the quite obvious lack of Mystic in the room. Where the hell was she, he wondered. Maybe they'd taken her to see the babies. But they wouldn't take the whole damned bed, and it was gone too. Oh, god. Oh, god, no, he thought. Something was wrong. He spun around, nearly hitting his face on the door as he rushed out, and hurried to the nurse's station, leaning over the desk in his near-panicked state. "Adier." he said, knowing the drill by now. "Mystic. Where is she?" [/blockquote]
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mystic pearl adier
Junior Member
Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out. Find nothin' but faith in nothin'.
Posts: 74
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Post by mystic pearl adier on Jan 22, 2009 16:43:37 GMT -5
» Communication errors could easily be devastating. Lack of proper communication could lead to someone not getting an important message or, perhaps worse, getting a message that was either distorted or meant for someone else- as was the case now. The nurse that looked up at Drake had just gotten there, the other- who was familiar with Mystic and wouldn't have made this mistake- having left for lunch. "OR," she said, blinked, then typed something into the computer, confirming with a nod. "Have a seat." The waiting room was surprisingly empty. There weren't many cases today- in fact, there were only two; Mystic's and the lady she was about to get mistaken for (though a side-by-side comparison would yield quite different results.) Unaware of the other OR team that was working, a nurse stepped out of the doors from the OR and looked around, seeing only Drake. Assuming he was the family for the other woman, he cleared his throat and stood near where Drake sat, looking solemn. "I'm sorry. We... did everything we could." Had he said the name- if he could even remember it- the problem would have been solved right there, probably preventing any trouble that was to come. "We'll clean her up, and take you in to see her, if you want." He lightly patted Drake on the shoulder then turned and headed back into the OR, completely unaware of the mistake he'd just made.
» Meanwhile, in her own OR, doctors were arguing- while doing what they could- over what course of treatment to take. One wanted to take extreme measures: Obviously." he said, "Whatever we were doing before isn't working. This is the second fucking time she's been back here." But the other was protesting, wanting to try once more to control the bleeding with medicine, or, at the very least, without something so drastic. "As a last resort. She's so young. What if she wants-" "I'm sure she'd much rather be alive and unable to have more than dead and able." The argument continued for quite a while, until the second doctor finally won. "But," the first growled as they worked to do the alternative stuff the second suggested, "this happens again, or she dies, it's your fault." Of course, would it matter who was at fault at that point? They did, eventually, get the bleeding under control, after nearly depleting the whole supply- and was any of Mystic's blood her own anymore?- and then proceeded to start getting her ready to go back to her room, all the while keeping a very close eye on her.
» The woman to whom Drake was about to walk in on was obviously not Mystic. As soon as he stepped into the room, he would probably notice, unless he was completely blind. They were, for all intents and purposes, polar opposites. Mystic was short, and slender- excluding the residual bump around the middle- and pale, with dark red hair. The other woman? Tall, obvious even though she was laying down, and, to put it nicely, chunky. And, perhaps most noticeable was that she wasn't quite so pale- the exact opposite. After a short while, the same nurse came back out, gesturing for Drake to follow him. He walked first through the hands-washing room- though not demanding that Drake wash his hands, because there wasn't an urgency for a sterile environment if the patient was already dead- and then stepped aside, holding the door to the OR, where the patient lay on the table, mostly covered- except for the face- by a white sheet. "I'm sorry," the nurse repeated, trying not to meet Drake's eyes. He'd done this too many times before.
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Post by drake fitzgerald minor III on Jan 25, 2009 16:39:42 GMT -5
Drake had bad feelings every now and then, and the one he'd felt as he was leaving the night before hadn't seemed that much out of the ordinary. He had tried to put it out of his mind. Worrying never helped anyone, right? But as he waited, as the person at the desk and the man who came out of the OR exchanged glances, he knew something was wrong. And by the time the man said the words, Drake felt as if he were hearing them in slow motion. He understood what was being said, he understood the implication, but his brain was refusing to accept it. He nodded, slowly, as he was told that he could go in and see her in a minute, and he waited, silently, staring at the floor. The floor was patterned, tiled, in a triangular pattern, and it looked like someone hadn't bothered to align the edges. Who looked at the floor of a hospital, anyway? Most people had more important things to think about in the hospital than the flooring. Something in Drake's mind had shut down, though.
It was interesting, how different people dealt with grief. Drake had never been any sort of emotional cripple. He knew how to express himself. But this, this was different, this was something far beyond anything he'd ever had to think about expressing. If he cried, it would be inadequate. If he screamed, that, too, would fall painfully short of the anguish present in his heart at that moment. What words were there that could describe this? Drake had yet to hear them, if they existed. It was as if his brain recognized this fact, recognized that it couldn't physically portray what he was feeling, so it didn't try. But in the back of his mind, in a place excruciatingly aware of the pain he was feeling, he was screaming. Mystic was gone. The woman he loved more than his own life was gone, and he hadn't had the opportunity to beg her to stay. He would have given anything to keep her alive, absolutely anything. He would have fallen to his knees, prayed to a God he wasn't sure he believed in, offered anything, even his own life in exchange for hers, but she'd been taken from him and he hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye.
He followed the doctor into the room, still staring at the floor. He couldn't bring himself to look up, not yet, not when he knew what he'd see and wanted more than anything for it to not be there. Mystic, still and pale, so completely devoid of everything that made her Mystic. He didn't want to see it, he couldn't. He realized that as they entered the room, knew it in his heart as he crossed the floor, and just before they got to the table, he turned back. "I can't..." he breathed. The doctor went after him, understanding, but as they reached the door once more, something in him made Drake cast one last glance over his shoulder. And in that glance, he saw something that made his breath catch in his throat. That wasn't Mystic's hair. That wasn't Mystic's skin...that wasn't Mystic at all.
Breathing quicker, trying to suck in oxygen past the inexplicable, sudden tightness in his throat, he crossed the room again, stopping by the bed. "Oh, my god." he said, gasping, and reached backwards, groping for the wall. He found it, slid down it, hitting the ground hard, burying his head in his hands. And then it hit him, everything he hadn't known how to feel, suddenly slammed into him, and sitting there on the floor of the hospital, Drake cried like he could never remember crying in his life. He hadn't cried like this when he'd found out Mystic was married to someone else, he hadn't cried like this when he'd watched people die in Iraq. This was something completely different, like an overdose of emotion that he had no idea how to process. Drake's normally sturdy frame shook as the sobs wracked his body, and he gasped for the air that was cold on his face where the tears left trails of salty moisture on his skin. He had no idea what he was feeling at the moment, if it was relief, if it was sadness, if it was joy, but he knew that he never wanted to feel it again, not this combination of emotions that left him sitting on the floor like a broken man. He wanted to go see her, wanted to make sure she was all right, but he didn't want Mystic to see him like this. [/blockquote]
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