Kathleen sped down the highway, her mind working overtime. Michael had told
her only that the doctors feared Wick's death, and that he had slipped into
a coma. She wanted to know more. She had to know more. "Come on, damn it!"
she shouted. "It's a green light! Let's move!" the cars ahead of her slowly
inched forward. What seemed like hours later, she pulled up at the hospital.
Michael was waiting for her in the ER. "Michael! How is he?" she asked
worriedly. He placed his hand on her shoulder.
"You should talk to the doctor," he suggested. "He's right there," he
pointed to a tall balding man talking to Megan. Without another word, she
raced over to him.
"Doctor?" she said, tapping him on the shoulder.
"Ah, yes. Ms. Ryan. I suppose you want to know more about your friend, Mr.
Lobo,"
"Yes! I do. How is he? What happened?"
"Well, why don't you come sit down over here," he pointed to three chairs
over by the wall. She followed and sat down nervously. "Um, there was
complications during the surgery," the doctor hated telling them everything.
He didn't want to worry them, but he also knew that it was a very big
possibility that their partner may never recover. "We don't know what
happened, but he stopped breathing on his own, and his heart isn't beating
either. We have him on life support. He's in a coma," he finished and looked
into the young faces. All that registered was disbelief.
"No," Ryan said, simply. "No. He'll be okay," she sounded so sure of it
that it scared the doctor.
"Well, it is possible that he'll recover, but unlikely. The next 24 hours
will tell. If he stabilizes, we can put in a pacemaker. That will help . . .
I think that maybe you should start preparing yourselves. I am so sorry,"
the doctor said. He stood and patted Kathleen on the shoulder and walked
back over to Megan, who had gotten roped into working double shifts.
Kathleen raised her eyes and met Michael's gaze. He had tears in his eyes,
and he reached out his hand to wipe the tears from her face that had fallen
without her knowing it. "Michael, he can't . . . he can't . . ." she
couldn't bring herself to say the word ‘die'. But he knew.
"Ssshhh," he murmured, pulling her head to his chest and wrapping his arms
around her. "It's going to be okay, Kathleen. It has to be," they gently
rocked back and forth and cried softly. She pulled back slightly.
"I . . . have to . . . call Carla . . . I said I would . . ."she said
between tears. She stood shakily, with Michael steadying her by holding her
waist. She walked over to the counter where Megan stood. "Uh, Megan, can I
use this phone?" she asked the nurse.
"Yeah," Megan said, obviously annoyed. Kathleen picked up the phone and
punched in her number. Carla answered.
"Hi, Carla. He's uh, well, he's not good," she said. "He's in a coma, on
life support. If he stabilizes in 24 hours, then they'll put in a pacemaker,
but they don't think he's going to make it," as soon as she said it, she
began crying again. She listened as Carla began softly crying too. Carla
thanked her and hung up. Kathleen walked back over to Michael. He stood and
took her into his arms. She felt so warm and secure there that she hated to
separate herself from his embrace. But she felt eyes on them and when she
turned around, she saw Megan staring over. Kathleen shuddered and backed
away from Michael.
Michael found the doctor that told them the bad news. "Can we see him?
Please?" he asked. the doctor nodded and pointed towards the room. They
raced in.
It was a new room. He was alone in it. There was four moniters, and he was
hooked up to two IVs. He was laying stiffly on the bed with his arms packed
neatly on each side of his body. His face was clear of all his brooding
looks and half-smiles, and anger. His face was, in fact, clear of all
emotion. Kathleen thought he reminded her of a robot. She hated to see him
like that. Void of emotion, of feeling. She buried her head in Michael's
neck. Breathing in his soft, clean scent gave her comfort.
Michael breathed in the crisp apple scent of her hair and buried his nose
deep in her golden mane. He was so glad he had her so he didn't have to go
through it alone. They were comfortable together and even though Kathleen
liked as little physical contact as possible, it was different with Michael.
"Do you want to go on home now?" he asked her. She nodded a little.
"Your home. I . . . I don't want to be alone right now," he nodded and they
gave Wick a last look before opening the door and exiting the room. "So . .
. I guess I'll meet you at your place?" she asked.
"Yeah. Okay," he grabbed her hand and they walked out the door. Megan had
been standing in listening range. She found Sarah, a nurse that owed her a
favor.
"Sarah," Megan said sweetly, "can you cover for me for awhile? Uh . . .
something came up," the nurse nodded.
"Sure, but try not to be too long,"
"I won't. Thank you," she hurried to the door and waited impatiently while
an elderly couple came in. She rushed past them and hopped into her car. She
tore out and drove steadily to Bell's house.
§*§*§*§
Michael unlocked the door and ushered Kathleen in. She had been to his
house a few times, and she knew where almost everything was. She sat down on
the big velvet couch that sat in front of the bay windows. She wasn't really
in the mood for what she knew he had on his mind. But she figured one kiss
could change that easily.
He sat down next to her. "I know what you're thinking," he said. He was
kinda smiling a little.
"Do you?" she teased half-heartedly.
"Yeah. I know you're too depressed about Wick to think about . . . or do .
. .anything else," she smiled.
"Well, you don't know that. Try me," she said. He looked at for a minute,
trying to decide to if she was serious. He thought she was. Now he was
debating on whether or not to actually kiss her. Oh, he wanted to, but he
didn't want her to think that the only reason he was interested in her was
as an escape. It was actually the opposite. He loved her . . .
Looking into his eyes, Kathleen saw doubt. She didn't like doubt. It made
her feel like maybe she wasn't worth it. She reached out her hand and
stroked the side of his face. He smiled and touched his hand to hers. Her
heart was racing and he breath was rapid. She wanted him to kiss her . . .
He gazed lovingly into her eyes. He leaned him and trailed soft kisses from
her forehead to her nose, then across her jaw to her ears. Her lips were
warm and moist as he kissed her gently. She wrapped her arms around him and
he twisted her hair in his hands. He rubbed the back of her head as the kiss
deepened and she pulled back slightly.
"Did you hear that?" she asked. they straightened up and listened, but
there was no sound. "I thought I heard a car," the waited for a knock on the
door, but one didn't come. "Guess not," she murmured. They stood up and
kissed deeply, their hands exploring each other. Kathleen unbuttoned
Michael's shirt and slipped it off, rubbing her hands up and down his chest.
Michael looked at her. "Are you sure you want to do this? We don't have
to," he didn't want to stop, but he wasn't so sure about her.
"No. I don't want to stop . . . yet . . ." he wasn't sure how to take that,
but he did slow down a little. They laid down on the couch. He laid on top
of her and slowly unbuttoned her shirt. All she had on underneath was a very
short tank top. He was beginning to ease that up when he heard a car door
slam and an engine start.
Confused, he looked down at her. She shrugged and pulled him back down to
her. He slid off her jeans and took a moment to just stare down at her. She
had never felt so happy and so loved . . .
At that very moment someone banged at the door. "Shit!" Michael exclaimed.
"Hold on, please!" he shouted. Kathleen scrambled to get her clothes back
on. Michael threw on his shirt, but couldn't get his fingers to button the
buttons. He looked over at Ryan who was struggling with her zipper. She had
her shirt on and she finished zipping her jeans. She propped herself up on
the couch and tried to look casual.
Michael gave her an apologetic smile and opened the door. Captain Durfee
stood there. "Cap? What are you doing here?" Michael asked. Durfee looked
him over. Noticed his bare feet, unbuttoned shirt. He saw pink lipstick
marks around the edges of his mouth. Durfee chuckled.
"Where's Megan, man?" he asked.
"Megan? I have no clue, why?" Durfee looked at him skeptically.
"Can I come in?" he asked. Michael opened the door wider. Durfee stepped in
and spied Ryan on the couch. Her clothes were intact, but her hair was in
complete disarray. He chuckled. "I'm sorry, guys. I'll leave you alone . . .
in a minute. I just wanted to tell you that Mr. French, the guy that stabbed
Wick, was arrested, and his trial is two weeks from now. I . . . well, I
have to deliver these," he handed them each a summons to testify in court.
Ryan exhaled sharply.
"Thanks, Cap," she said, taking the letter. He patted her head.
"Stay tough, Ryan. And . . . don't bring this . . . this romance . . .
don't bring it to the station," he smiled and walked out the door. Michael
let out a deep breath a plopped down on the couch.
§*§*§*§
Megan's mind was racing. She had seen them . . . undressing each other . . .
laying on the couch . . . she didn't love him. She didn't want him . . . all
she knew was she didn't want Kathleen to have him. And she was going to make
sure she didn't keep him . . .
****
The monitors inside of Wick's hospital room beeped steadily, showing normal
brain activity. What was actually going on inside his head was completely
different.
//Wick laid down on his bed and scooted under the covers. "Mommy, will you
read me a bedtime story?" he asked staring up at his mother. She shook her
head, her honey brown hair shaking slightly. She looked down at him with
deep green eyes full of love.
"Not right now, Wick. Mommy and Daddy are very tired tonight," she kissed
him on the forehead and tucked him in. She sat down on the bed. "Now, listen
little man. Mommy and Daddy are going up to bed, okay?"
"Upstairs?" he asked. Wick was afraid of the stairs, so his father turned
the den into a bedroom for Wick.
"Yes, honey. If you need me, just yell. I love you," she said softly. She
stood in the doorway while he got situated in bed. Then she clicked off the
light and headed upstairs to her waiting husband.\\
//Wick sat straight up in bed. Something wasn't right. He smelled something
. . . like when Daddy barbequed . . . smoke! It was smoke! He jumped out of
bed and raced to the foot of the stairs.
"Mommy! Daddy!" he could see bright orange and red flames coming from up
the stairs. They licked down the banister and almost came towards him. He
jumped back, screaming at the top of his lungs. He could feel the heat from
the flames. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he ran out the front
door to Mr. Smith's house, the neighbor that baby-sat him often. \\
//He was inside the cool house of Mr. Smith, when the fireman came in and
told him that his parents were dead. Wick cried, but only because he thought
he should. He didn't understand. He still thought his parents would be
coming back for them. All he knew was he did not want to go live with his
mean Aunt Gertrude.\\
//It was his first day of twelfth grade when he decided he wanted to become
a paramedic. He had gotten home and found his aunt laying on the floor
clutching her chest. Keeping a cool head he called 9-1-1. He watched as the
paramedics loaded her into the ambulance and let him ride in the back to the
hospital.
He loved the smell of the ambulance. He loved the feel of the seat. He
loved to hear the siren from inside the vehicle. He wasn't even too
concerned about his aunt. He lost himself in the thrill.
It was when they got to the hospital that he got scared. His aunt had been
in there for awhile. Later, a doctor came out and told him that his aunt was
dead. In her will, she had left him everything, for she had no children or
brothers or sisters. There was no one left to care for him . . .\\
//It was his first day on the job. He was so nervous. The Senior paramedic
that was going to be training him was said to be the best in the department.
It was also said that she put up with zero nonsense. He pulled up at the
station and slowly got out of the car.
He walked in and was greeted by a burly black man that he recognized as
Captain Durfee. "Hi, Wick. Ryan!" he shouted. "Your trainee is here!"
A woman came around the corner. Wick was instantly taken aback. He was eye
level with the woman's shoulders! He looked up to see one of the tallest
women he had ever met. She reached her arm down to shake his hand. "I'm
Kathleen Ryan. I'll be training you," she said. He couldn't take his eyes
off her face. She might have been tall, but she was sure beautiful.
"Wick Lobo. But, you already knew that," she grinned. "Uh . . . isn't there
another partner?" he asked.
"Yeah. Jerry Bates," said a man from behind him. He shook his hand and
Bates gave him the grand tour of the station.\\
//It was one of those nights when Bates was sick with a hangover in the
medic bathroom and Ryan and Wick had the room to themselves. Over the past
six months, they had gotten closer and closer until many nights they fell
asleep wrapped in each other's arms.
She came over to his bed and curled up next to him. She had a boyfriend, a
fiancé actually. When they spent the night together, it was simply because
they missed their significant others. She missed Ken and he missed the girl
of the week. They just lay there, talking about relationship problems and if
and when they were going to get a new partner. Most nights, like tonight,
she fell asleep listening to his heartbeat. \\
//The day had arrived when his new partner, Michael Bell, would arrive.
Ryan would be training him. He heard a truck come putt putting up to the
station, followed by a backfire from the tailpipe. Ryan smiled and shook her
head as a very nervous man hopped out of the driver's side.
"Hey, man," Wick drawled. "Wick Lobo," he said extending his hand.
"Michael Bell," the man said, shaking his hand. Ryan introduced herself and
Michael had the same reaction he had. He stared at her and stared at her
until Durfee came into the room.
They became fast friends. They were also in constant competition for Ryan's
attention. She stopped spending time in his bed and started sneaking out to
the kitchen in the middle of the night with Bell. He knew she still cared,
but the day she broke off her engagement with Ken, he knew she was falling
for Bell.\\
//It was the night after the explosion at the chemical plant. Wick and Bell
were having another argument. "I wouldn't have shut the door on us, pal." he
said, tossing a football between his hands.
"Oh, you'd have left it open?" he asked.
"To get you out? You're damn straight," he said.
"Once again on a maturity scale of one to ten, you're not on it," Bell
fired back at him.
"I wouldn't have done it," he took a deep breath. "And I think you're
trying to convince yourself cause you feel guilty as hell," he paused and
probed Bell eyes. "Look me in the eyes, Bell and tell me you didn't write us
off," Bell hesitated a split second. The bathroom door opened and Ryan
stepped out.
"You wanna stick pins in me?" Bell asked sarcastically.
"No, but an arrow in Wick would be very satisfying," she said, glaring at
Wick.
"What?" Wick asked in disbelief. How could she be turning this on him?
"You couldn't let the HAZMAT unit handle it. You had to prove you're the
big man on campus," she paused and her eyes welled up with tears. "See, I'm
carrying your hero complex inside of me, Wick. Thanks," he knew she was
referring to the fact that she may never be able to have children.
"This guy shuts us in, and you're blaming me?" Wick shouted at her.
"You went back in," she accused angrily.
"Dragging you?" he countered. He paused, a bitter smile crossing his face.
"Why don't you check upstairs who's at fault, Ryan? Huh? Be careful, don't
let anyone hear him talking back to you, cause I'm pretty worried about it,"
Ryan rolled her eyes.
"I talk to God when I think I'm dying. You start pining for sorority girls,
and you're worried about me?" she asked cynically.
As usual, Bell tried to be the voice of reason. "Let's just calm down," he
begged. His request was ignored.
"Maybe I needed God to tell me why I followed you in there," Ryan said.
Wick scratched the back of his head. "Well, we found out why, didn't we?"
he chuckled. Ryan shot him a withering glare and rolled her eyes.
"You have got to be kidding," she replied. That kiss—"
"Was because you always wanted me. You couldn't help your self," he replied
in a cocky voice.
"You're still on chems," she replied sarcastically.
"You guys kissed?" Bell asked incredulously.
"Maybe I should tell Bell how your last moments were almost standing on a
table pretending to be John Travolta," she said accusingly.
"On the lips?" Bell was still shocked at the news.
"I know how you feel about Bell. This is how I feel about you," she
continued. Wick smiled bitterly. "Is it rational? Who cares!" she shot at
him.
"How long?" Bell continued. Ryan shot him a look and threw her hands up.
She stood quickly, whipping her ponytail around her head and exited to the
right. Wick slammed his football down and exited to the let. Bell walked
slowly to the kitchen. "Kissed?"\\
As that memory faded, Wick's heart stopped beating. The machine went crazy
as Wick flat lined.....
