Post by Beth on Aug 26, 2008 0:17:33 GMT -5
So... this is it. The last bit. Sorry it's so heavy on the medical stuff. I'm not completely happy with it, but I hope it's ok.
The overcast day complimented Ryan’s mood. Clouds pregnant with rain, were begging to be unburdened, lending a heaviness to the air that was palpable. There was a metallic tang of ozone in the wind that left an acidic taste in his mouth. A grayness shadowed the town causing it to look as if it were a washed out version of itself. Or maybe it was merely a reflection of his emotions, his inner turmoil leeching all the color out of his world.
He hung back, absorbing the tragic scene, afraid to go nearer for the moment. An acrid smell still carried faintly on the breeze, stinging his nostrils and bringing a watery haze to his vision - at least he blamed it on the lingering smokiness.
In the days before Ryan had scoured practically every local hospital and morgue, every street within a fifty mile radius searching for his brother. Alive was preferable, but at this point he didn’t dare let himself entertain that notion. Whatever condition he found his brother in, it was imperative that he know what had happened that day. The need for closure was all encompassing. He had stalled the inevitable long enough, finally steeling himself to face the cataclysmic events of that fateful day.
Ryan walked forward, carefully side-stepping the scattered debris. As he knelt down amidst the burnt-out, skeletal remains of what was their childhood prison, he pinched some of the soot between his fingers. Its dry, brittle coolness sent shivers down his spine, the glowing embers from the fire long extinguished. He briskly dusted off his hands, unnerved by the echoing voices that seemed to rise up from the ashes themselves.
“No, Ryan. I have unfinished business here.”
“What? What business?”
“I think you know.”
Ryan hung his head. He did know. “Not like this,” he pleaded in a coarse whisper.
“I need to do this. It’s the only way.”
If he were allowed one wish, it would be to turn back the clock to that point in time. To freeze that moment so he could be given another chance to argue more vehemently with his brother, to fight for Jonathan when he no longer seemed to have the will to do so. His regret at the perceived mishandling of that moment threatened to choke him.
Instead of doing whatever it took to drag Jonathan away from the flimsily constructed prison of their past, the panic overtook him and paralyzed him. He reached, grasping as straws to keep his brother from passing the point of no return. While he succeeded in momentarily delaying Jonathan with his words, it was short-lived. Ryan’s desperate pleas weren’t enough to stave off the inevitable. The mouth of the dark abyss yawned wide open, and Jonathan had surrendered, unable anymore to resist being swallowed up by it. If Ryan had only known how to stop the plunge... As he searched the wreckage for answers, the scene played out in his mind for the millionth time like a spool of a film on a loop in his brain.
Ryan took in Jonathan’s calm exterior. As unnerving as that was under the circumstances, the emptiness in his brother’s eyes scared him more. “Okay. But have you grieved for yourself?”
This odd question captured Jonathan’s attention. “What are you talking about? I’m not the one that died.”
Ryan hesitated, uncertain how far he should take it. “Yes, in a way you are. A part of you has been dead for so long, lost in that black nothing of our childhood.” Jonathan did a double-take, surprised at how astute Ryan’s observation was. “The part that could let yourself feel worthy of love and happiness. The part...”
The rising moon was reflected in the tears that swam in Jonathan’s eyes. Ryan knew he had struck a nerve. He pressed a hand to the glass wanting to reach through it and ease his brother’s pain. But words were all he had now. “It’s over, Jonathan.”
He shook his head slowly. “Not yet. But it will be soon.”
The icy finger of fear slithered back into his chest, turning his blood cold. “What are you going to do, Jonathan?”
“I’m going to put an end to it. Tonight.”
“Jonathan, let me in. Please, Jonathan. You can’t kill the ghosts. Not like this”
“You’re wrong. It has to be this way. I’m sorry.” Jonathan took two steps back, swathed in the shadows. Time seemed to freeze as he held Ryan’s eyes with his own. “I love you, Ryan.”
“I hope that wherever you are, it’s finally over for you, Hockett.” Ryan bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. “No one will hurt you ever again. Not me. Not our sorry excuse for an old man. No one. The past can’t touch you now.” That was the sole comfort he could take in his brother’s passing.
Ryan rose slowly, the wind whipping his overcoat ferociously against his legs. A storm was rolling in, the rumbling of thunder not far off in the distance. He squinted against the horizon, knowing the lightning would soon be following. Just as he was contemplating returning to the hotel for the night, his eyes caught sight of a blurry shape hunkered down amidst the remaining blackened framework.
He shook his head, trying to pry the image from his mind. The ashes swirled in the increasing wind, adding to the mirage-like quality of the scene. Ryan knew if he turned and looked back the figure would disappear, proving that it was just a figment of his imagination after all. But then the silhouette moved and stretched higher against the horizon. It was standing now, looking in his direction. It wasn’t that he could discern the stare from such a distance as much as feel it deep in his bones. He was pinned to his spot by invisible beams. Only one person had ever been able to make him feel like that with just one glance.
The sky had darkened ominously lending an even more surreal quality to the scene unfolding before him. The lightning flashed brightly, briefly backlighting the person striding toward him. Ryan’s words caught in his throat as the figure neared, emerging from the shadows, not daring to believe his own eyes.
His brother found his voice first. “Ryan.”
The voice sounded familiar, but there was a raspy undertone that was foreign. Ryan let his eyes soak in the sight he had been yearning for. He tried to dismiss it as wishful thinking, a conjuring of his subconscious. “You’re not real. You can’t be. This is just the stress of the past couple months catching up with me. You’re dead.”
“What?” Jonathan searched his older brother for a sign that he might be joking or messing with him somehow, but the paleness of his countenance suggested otherwise. “I’m not dead, Ryan. I’m right here,” Jonathan thinly assured him.
Ryan slowly closed the gap between them. His hand moved of its own volition to reach out and find Jonathan’s shoulder. He stared in wonderment as it did not pass through as he had initially feared. Ryan let his hand raise up a little further to his younger brother’s face, allowing it to linger as he cupped his cheek. What he felt beneath his fingertips was unmistakably solid flesh and blood. Whether his nerve endings tingled with electricity because of the ensuing storm or from the sheer hunger for this contact was indistinguishable. An unintelligible sound escaped his lips as he yanked Jonathan in closer for a long awaited hug.
Ryan did not see Jonathan wince. He just squeezed harder, pressing him closer, afraid that if he let go his brother would dissipate back into nothingness. Jonathan extricated himself from the hug, puzzled by his brother’s actions. “What’s going on, Ryan? Why are you here?”
“I was looking for you - for your...body.” Ryan averted his eyes in shame.
“What,” Jonathan repeated his initial question. “What made you think that...” Ryan’s nod in the direction of the ruins was all the answer he needed. A large clap of thunder coincided with his epiphany. He responded with a knowing and sympathetic look.
“How - how did you get out? Everything was destroyed.” Ryan tried, but was unsuccessful in hiding his bewilderment.
There wasn’t anything particularly funny about Ryan’s statement, but the corner of Jonathan’s mouth turned up slightly. “Do you remember how you and Braden used to sneak out at night?”
“The secret door to the root cellar?” Ryan was incredulous. “How did you know about that?”
Jonathan shrugged, his mouth twisting into a grimace as if pained. “I was small. Sometimes you guys talked and forgot I was there. I was a good listener.”
Ryan stood in amazement. “But the whole thing collapsed. Aidan, the firemen, they found your wallet, your watch...”
“Some things? Is that why you thought I was dead?” His question was punctuated by another flash of lightning and a peal of thunder.
The sky opened and fat raindrops pelted their heads. “The things you left behind...there was no other trace of you. We were told there was no way you could have survived,” Ryan guiltily admitted, regretting not listening to his gut and tearing the town apart until his brother was found. “What happened to you? Why did you stay away so long?”
Jonathan hesitated, twisting slightly into the wind. He narrowed his eyes against the increasingly slanting rain as he sought the proper words to explain. It was then that Ryan noticed the slight shaking of his lips. His brother shivered violently once and fell still. Another series of lightning strikes illuminated the world around them, allowing Ryan to get a glimpse of the gauze bandage peaking out from Jonathan’s collar. Whatever else had happened, whatever had caused him to stay away was unimportant at the moment. His brother was alive and Ryan’s renewed priority was to protect his well-being. “We can finish this conversation later. C’mon, let’s get you someplace dry where we can get you warmed up.”
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Jonathan came out of the tiny hotel bathroom, steam trailing behind him, with a towel draped loosely around his neck. Ryan glanced up from channel surfing and realized for the first time just how stiffly and slowly Jonathan was moving. It was if the past few months had accelerated the aging process, putting him way beyond his twenty-nine years. In some respects, Ryan speculated, that wasn’t far off the mark.
His brother gave him a sheepish look. “I hate to ask, but I can’t do it myself.”
Ryan accepted the items Jonathan held out for him and helped his brother sit down on the bed. He studied the extent of the damage running from the base of the neck down the length of his torso, and stopping at mid thigh. The wounds looked fairly fresh, not the healing burns of over two months ago.
“Whose been helping you do this?”
“I go back to an outpatient clinic every day. That’s why I had to stick around.” He could feel the unasked question on the tip of Ryan’s tongue. “I’ve only been out a few days. I had no idea what was going on back home or - you have to know I wouldn’t have let you go through that.” A shadow passed over his face. “Especially not after what we went through with Erin.”
Ryan was clinical in his application to conceal his true emotions. “I know.”
“So everyone really thinks I’m...?”
Ryan nodded. “There was a funeral...”
Jonathan’s head dropped with the weight of the knowledge of what his older brother must have gone through. “I’m so, so sorry, Ryan. I had no idea,” he reiterated. His tone took on a more frantic quality. “Everyone thinks I’m dead? Oh my God, Amanda. The baby. Emma!”
He had just inadvertently let it slip that Amanda was pregnant with his child, but judging from Ryan’s knowing look, it was old news.
“Yeah, they do. I’ve been making sure Amanda and the baby are taken care of, but they all miss you like crazy, Hockett.” Ryan paused, fumbling over his words. “I did, too...more than you’ll ever know.”
“If I’d had known...if I’d been able to...”
“It’s not your fault, Hockett. You didn’t know. I just - I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re sitting right in front of me now. I just want to know what happened.”
Jonathan hissed as Ryan hit a particularly sensitive area, but quickly regained his composure. “I, um- I came out of the root cellar door just as the building exploded. Some of the debris...Let’s just say stop, drop and roll doesn’t work as well as advertised.” He tried a cynical laugh that dissolved into a coughing fit.
Ryan offered him a glass of water, but he declined through the coughs. He reached over and plucked something from the pocket of his jacket. He took a long pull off an inhaler. “Residual damage,” he explained.
“Smoke?”
“Some, but from the tube, too.”
Ryan, who had resumed tending to his brother’s wounds, paused again. “My God, Hockett. How badly were you hurt?” The question seemed dense given extent of the burns, but he could never have fathomed it was that serious.
“Pretty bad, I guess,” Jonathan admitted. “I managed to get my jacket off and put out the fire. At least I think...Maybe I didn’t. After that things just get kind of...fuzzy. I don’t even remember how I got to the hospital. I just remember fading in and out a lot. Some of the that was from all the anesthesia, I guess.”
Ryan continued to work as he talked. “How much anesthesia are we talking?”
“I’m not sure exactly. Maybe three or four rounds. Skin grafts mostly. More needs to be done...obviously,” he added as an afterthought.
The elder Lavery tried to keep his voice neutral, trying to prevent the worry from showing through. “That’s going to be one heck of a scar.”
Jonathan shrugged noncommitally. Although he had many faults, vanity had never been one of them. “They’ll fade with time, I suppose. It’s the ones you can’t see that are the hardest to heal.”
Ryan inhaled sharply. That was the cue he had been waiting for. He was uncertain how to broach the subject with Jonathan, but he had been given a perfect opening. “Why did you go there? What did you hope to accomplish by blowing our childhood home to kingdom come?”
“I told you before, you already know why.”
Ryan took his time putting the last bandage in place. He came around to face Jonathan, almost deciding to shelve the discussion for another time. His brother did not look good; he was sweating profusely over his pasty complexion.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine.” There were those infamous words of denial again.
“Then I’ll ask you again - what were you hoping to do?”
Jonathan’s eyes bore into his with an intensity that was unmatched. “I didn’t just hope to, I did it.”
“What? What did you do?”
“I buried the past once and for all. I set us free.”
“Jonathan,” Ryan began gently, “we got out a long time ago. That building was empty. The only ghosts left are in here and here,” he said pointing to his head and heart respectively. “Blowing up an abandoned house won’t change that.”
“You - you and Braden got out. Erin and I....” Jonathan voice cracked and he blinked hard. “As long as that house was still standing, there was no hope for moving on. It was like some weird, macabre monument to our suffering. It had to be done. Can’t you understand that,” he virtually pleaded.
Ryan bent down and cupped the back of Jonathan’s neck, mindful of the bandages. “Yeah, Hockett. Actually I think I can.”
Jonathan’s eyes shone. “I know it doesn’t solve everything, but it’s a start, right?” He took a second to compose himself, his voice still wavering despite his valiant efforts. “God, Ryan...I’ve been lost, totally lost for so long.”
Ryan pulled him in gingerly for a hug. He didn’t know if it was more to comfort Jonathan or himself. “But you’re here now, and whatever it takes I’m going to be with you the whole way. You know that, right?”
Jonathan nodded and pulled back. “I know.” He gave a wan smile. “But there are some things even you can’t fix. I guess what I’m trying to say is I had to lose myself before I could really find myself.”
“You’ve never been lost, Hockett. Not really. You’ve had one blow after another until it was impossible to see straight and figure out which way was up. You’re going to get there. I know you will, Hockett. All the bad stuff is over now. Only good things to come.”
“That’s what Erin said...what Erin said right before she...”
“It’s going to be different this time. I promise.” Ryan didn’t want to give him false hope, but he had no reason to believe otherwise. He had every intention of making sure that promise was fulfilled. Nevertheless, he could feel the doubt that coursed through Jonathan. “Erin was so proud of you - she would be so proud of you to see how far you’ve come.”
“I know,” he acknowledged. “I read her diary.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And...do you finally get it?”
“Get what?”
“Erin and I moved past all the junk. She had faith in you - and so do I...always. Erin - she just wanted you to see what the rest of us see when we look at you.”
“A girlfriend-abusing, kidnapping, murderer,” Jonathan scoffed.
“Stop! Just stop!” Ryan commanded his full attention with his sudden outburst His next words were spoken softly and urgently. “A good man. A good, decent man. Her hope - and mine too - is that one day you’ll stop listening to all the voices and all the memories from the past and then you’ll actually be able to believe it, too.”
Jonathan, ever the skeptic, remained unresponsive. Ryan tried a new tactic. “I felt the same way once. Like I told you in Canada, I felt what you’ve been feeling all these years. The emptiness. That cold, black nothing. It was you and Erin that made me see how wrong I was. You can forgive the past, but you don’t have to relive it. You are not - are NOT destined to repeat it. You helped me. Now it’s my turn to make you see it, too.”
“Maybe one day I can forgive our past, but I don’t know if I can forgive myself.” He gave a long, forlorn sigh and the ever present sad smile returned to his lips. “But I’m working on it. I guess I got a lot further to go.”
“So how can I help you? What’s the next step? The ball is in your court, Hockett.”
“I need to go back to Pine Valley. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do. And then there’s some things I need to set right.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” Ryan wanted to return as soon as possible. As much as he hated to keep the people back home in the dark as far as Jonathan’s miraculous reappearance was concerned, he knew it was something that should be done in person. And leaving tonight was not an option. Judging by the look of things, Jonathan was on the verge of collapse. “Let’s get some rest and we’ll leave in the morning.”
“Yeah, okay.” Jonathan snapped off the light. “Goodnight, Ryan.”
“Goodnight...Jonboy.” Although the room was dusted in the shadows, the smile was evident in Ryan’s voice.
“That was just so...wrong.”
Ryan yelped in mock surprise as a pillow whizzed past his head. “Alright, alright. I give. Goodnight, Hockett. I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me too,” came the sleepy reply.
Missing for so long, the brotherly exchange warmed his heart. For the first time in months, Ryan dropped off to sleep easily and without that ache deep in his chest.
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Ryan awoke in the middle of the night to an odd rattling sound. In his disorientation, it took him a few seconds to locate the sound as coming from the bed next to him. He slid out from under his sheets and knelt down next to his brother. Jonathan’s eyes were half open and his teeth were chattering violently, the heat radiating off him like off of the pavement on a hot day. “Jesus, Hockett, you’re burning up.”
Jonathan’s eyes had trouble focusing. It was an alarming sight, given his usual sharp acuity. “We need to get you back to the hospital.”
“I’m so sick of hospitals,” Jonathan mumbled, barely coherent.
“I know, Hockett, but I thought I’d lost you twice already. I’m not willing to risk losing you again.”
“I’m fine.”
“Where have I heard that before?” Even though Ryan was outwardly rolling his eyes, on the inside his heart was jack-rabbiting. He didn’t have to be a doctor to see this was no ordinary fever. “C’mon, you’re going whether I have to call an ambulance or take you myself. You decide.”
“Alright,” he conceded weakly. “But not here. Pine Valley.”
“What? You can’t be serious!” Jonathan struggled to keep his gaze from wavering. “We’re like a thousand miles away.”
“I’m deadly serious.” Jonathan licked dry lips. “Think about it. There’ll be a lot less explanation if I’m in the hospital.”
Ryan had to admit that there was a certain twisted logic to his thinking. “There’s no way they’ll let you on a plane in this shape.”
“So we’ll drive.”
“It’s way too far.”
“I’ll make it.”
“Jon, you’re way too sick.”
“I’ll make it,” he said firmly. His head flopped back against the pillow, all his energy spent.
Ryan took a long look at his brother. His hair was plastered to his head, darkened by flop sweat, contrasting sharply with his paleness. He knew it was not the smartest idea, but once Jonathan dug in his heels there was very little chance of talking him out of it. And they didn’t have time for petty arguments. Against all his better judgment, he agreed. “Alright, Hockett. I’m going to load up on supplies and get you some medicine. Then we’ll go.”
He expected a smile or a sigh of relief, but Jonathan had already dropped back off into a feverish slumber.
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As they came to a screeching halt in front of the emergency room doors of Pine Valley Hospital, the sky was showing the first streaks of light. It had taken over sixteen hours to get here and it was the longest sixteen hours of Ryan’s life. He oscillated between hunching over the steering wheel, pushing the car as fast as it would go and pulling over on the side of the road to force Jonathan to drink and take more medicine. The stretched out silences were more than he could bear. At one point, he kept his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder to reassure himself by the rise and fall of his chest that he was still with him.
Ryan hopped out of the car, not bothering to shut the door. He burst through the entrance and nearly collided with Julia. “Oh, Julia. Thank God! I need your help.”
“What is it?” In her weary, sleep-deprived state, she was having trouble following him.
“I found him. I found my brother,” Ryan nearly shouted.
Ryan’s words came in short pants. It took her more than a few seconds to register what he was saying. “Jon - Jonathan’s alive?”
“Yes. Yes, he is. And he’s very sick.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s outside. He needs help.”
Without another word Julia started to grab a wheelchair, but Ryan stopped her with a frown. Understanding, she grabbed a gurney and followed him outside. She knelt down beside a barely conscious Jonathan. “Hey you.”
“Hey,” was all he could manage.
“Could you give me a hand,” Julia directed to Ryan.
He gently extricated his brother from the car and helped him to lay down. Once inside, Ryan gave his hand a squeeze before Julia and another nurse whisked him away. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew Joe Martin was shaking him awake.
“Ryan, I’m sorry to wake you, but I understand you found Jonathan alive.” Ryan nodded his confirmation. “If you could fill me on a little on his condition, it would help me to treat him.”
“Yeah, of course.” He offered what little information he knew about the burns and the surgeries and finished with the onset of the fever. “Please, Joe...you gotta help him.”
“We’ll do everything we can, Ryan.” Dr. Martin gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder and disappeared behind the double doors.
The waiting began. He was no stranger to it, but it didn’t make it any easier. He checked the time and decided it wasn’t too early to call. Annie should be on her way to work by now. He picked up the phone and began to dial.
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When Julia finally emerged from the room, Ryan shot out of his chair. “How is he? Is he going to be okay?”
She sighed audibly. “He’s not doing so hot. What were you thinking driving all the way with him like that? That was really, really not smart.”
Ryan ran his hand vigorously over his head and face. “I know. I know. Jonathan insisted and you know how hard-headed he is. I figured it would take more time to argue with him than to get him here, ya know?”
Julia relaxed a little and softened her tone. “He’s got a pretty bad infection. He was starting to get septic, but Joe thinks it was caught in time. He’s going to need another surgery.”
“Well, how soon?”
Although the heat was on full blast, she hugged herself as if cold. “They have to stabilize him first. Right now he’s not strong enough. He’s also got a touch of pneumonia complicating things. They’d like to see it clear up a bit before that can happen. Hopefully soon.”
“Can I see him now?”
“Yeah, just don’t stay in there too long. He really needs to rest.” She started to go, but turned around as a thought suddenly struck her. “Does Amanda know?”
“Not yet. And I have absolutely no clue how to tell her.”
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Annie burst through the doors. She had been unable to slow down since Ryan’s phone call. Julia was behind the desk of the nursing station, but was writing intently and hadn’t seen her. Annie didn’t wait for her to look up. “Is it true? Is he here?”
There was no need to ask who she was referring to. “Yeah, it’s true.” Julia face split into a wide grin that was contagious.
“This is unbelievable! Where’s Ryan?”
“He’s in there with Jonathan.” She illustrated which room with her pen.
“Thanks, Julia,” she called back behind her as she went running down the hall. Annie made it as far as the door before she stopped short. Her elation was brought crashing down as she caught sight of who she believed to be Jonathan. There were so many tubes and wires and bandages surrounding him, it was difficult to be sure.
All the emotions of the past few months bubbled to the surface and came spilling out onto her cheeks. She wiped at her face and attempted to make herself presentable before she went in.
She pushed the door open a crack, not sure if she wanted to intrude. Her husband’s voice came spilling out the door despite his hushed tones. “Please. Please, let them do it, Hockett.”
“No!”
“Your body needs to rest to get better, Jonathan. And this will help.”
“And I said...no. No. More. Tubes.” His reply was halting and muffled.
“You’re breathing - you know that thing you do to live - really sucks right now.”
“You suck.”
Annie had to stifle a laugh at that last comment. Even under these dire circumstances, each fell into the big brother/little brother role seamlessly. The refreshing banter was definitely welcome after the last few months of crushing silence.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what the conversation was about. Ryan meant well, but trying to force Jonathan into doing something he didn’t want to do was only adding to the strain on him which it was plain to see, he couldn’t afford. Annie seized the opportunity to interrupt the tension.
“Hey you, welcome back!”
“Annie...” His voice shook with trepidation. She relieved his anxiety by moving in for a hug. His arm hung limply around her shoulders, too weak to give a proper squeeze. He removed the oxygen mask and struggled to raise up to kiss her cheek.
“Jon, put that back on -“
”Hey, Ryan. I could really use a cup of coffee. How about you?” Annie not-so-subtly requested.
Ryan threw his hands up in mock-surrender as he left the room, realizing he was clearly outnumbered..
Annie and Jonathan shared a knowing look. “He’s just worried about you, you know? The last few months were unbearable for him. For all of us.”
“Annie...”
She cringed inwardly, realizing she unintentionally stoked the fires of his guilt. “There’s no explanation needed. Obviously, you didn’t know and weren’t able to come back. But now that you’re here, we just don’t want to lose you again.”
“How’s Emma?”
“She’s dealing.”
“I want to see her, but I’m afraid,” he swallowed hard, trying to catch his breath, “I’m afraid that she won’t understand.”
“It’ll be hard to explain, but I think that after she sees you she won’t care what exactly happened.”
“Have you seen Amanda? How is she?”
“Physically, she’s fine. But...she’s had a rough time.”
“I need to see her. I need to...God this is so messed up.”
Annie took a good look at him. His skin glistened with sweat from the effort of trying to produce enough air to form a sentence. “Soon. I think Ryan’s right about one thing. You really need to focus on getting better. Not only for your sake, but for Amanda’s and the baby’s.”
“Alright.”
“‘Alright’, what?” Annie held her breath anticipating his response. She had appealed to his obligatory sense of responsibility. Both brothers were blessed - or cursed, depending on one’s point of view - with an innate compulsion to choose the honorable path. Put to Jonathan the way it had been, she foresaw his choice as the one that would not only be best for him, but for his child as well.
Jonathan drew a shaky breath in resignation. “Alright. Tell them they can put the tube in.”
Annie leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, feeling the dampness on her lips. “I know it’s tough, but it’s the right decision.”
“Right.” Jonathan took a sudden interest in the ceiling tiles. “Tell them to do it before I change my mind.”
The overcast day complimented Ryan’s mood. Clouds pregnant with rain, were begging to be unburdened, lending a heaviness to the air that was palpable. There was a metallic tang of ozone in the wind that left an acidic taste in his mouth. A grayness shadowed the town causing it to look as if it were a washed out version of itself. Or maybe it was merely a reflection of his emotions, his inner turmoil leeching all the color out of his world.
He hung back, absorbing the tragic scene, afraid to go nearer for the moment. An acrid smell still carried faintly on the breeze, stinging his nostrils and bringing a watery haze to his vision - at least he blamed it on the lingering smokiness.
In the days before Ryan had scoured practically every local hospital and morgue, every street within a fifty mile radius searching for his brother. Alive was preferable, but at this point he didn’t dare let himself entertain that notion. Whatever condition he found his brother in, it was imperative that he know what had happened that day. The need for closure was all encompassing. He had stalled the inevitable long enough, finally steeling himself to face the cataclysmic events of that fateful day.
Ryan walked forward, carefully side-stepping the scattered debris. As he knelt down amidst the burnt-out, skeletal remains of what was their childhood prison, he pinched some of the soot between his fingers. Its dry, brittle coolness sent shivers down his spine, the glowing embers from the fire long extinguished. He briskly dusted off his hands, unnerved by the echoing voices that seemed to rise up from the ashes themselves.
“No, Ryan. I have unfinished business here.”
“What? What business?”
“I think you know.”
Ryan hung his head. He did know. “Not like this,” he pleaded in a coarse whisper.
“I need to do this. It’s the only way.”
If he were allowed one wish, it would be to turn back the clock to that point in time. To freeze that moment so he could be given another chance to argue more vehemently with his brother, to fight for Jonathan when he no longer seemed to have the will to do so. His regret at the perceived mishandling of that moment threatened to choke him.
Instead of doing whatever it took to drag Jonathan away from the flimsily constructed prison of their past, the panic overtook him and paralyzed him. He reached, grasping as straws to keep his brother from passing the point of no return. While he succeeded in momentarily delaying Jonathan with his words, it was short-lived. Ryan’s desperate pleas weren’t enough to stave off the inevitable. The mouth of the dark abyss yawned wide open, and Jonathan had surrendered, unable anymore to resist being swallowed up by it. If Ryan had only known how to stop the plunge... As he searched the wreckage for answers, the scene played out in his mind for the millionth time like a spool of a film on a loop in his brain.
Ryan took in Jonathan’s calm exterior. As unnerving as that was under the circumstances, the emptiness in his brother’s eyes scared him more. “Okay. But have you grieved for yourself?”
This odd question captured Jonathan’s attention. “What are you talking about? I’m not the one that died.”
Ryan hesitated, uncertain how far he should take it. “Yes, in a way you are. A part of you has been dead for so long, lost in that black nothing of our childhood.” Jonathan did a double-take, surprised at how astute Ryan’s observation was. “The part that could let yourself feel worthy of love and happiness. The part...”
The rising moon was reflected in the tears that swam in Jonathan’s eyes. Ryan knew he had struck a nerve. He pressed a hand to the glass wanting to reach through it and ease his brother’s pain. But words were all he had now. “It’s over, Jonathan.”
He shook his head slowly. “Not yet. But it will be soon.”
The icy finger of fear slithered back into his chest, turning his blood cold. “What are you going to do, Jonathan?”
“I’m going to put an end to it. Tonight.”
“Jonathan, let me in. Please, Jonathan. You can’t kill the ghosts. Not like this”
“You’re wrong. It has to be this way. I’m sorry.” Jonathan took two steps back, swathed in the shadows. Time seemed to freeze as he held Ryan’s eyes with his own. “I love you, Ryan.”
“I hope that wherever you are, it’s finally over for you, Hockett.” Ryan bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. “No one will hurt you ever again. Not me. Not our sorry excuse for an old man. No one. The past can’t touch you now.” That was the sole comfort he could take in his brother’s passing.
Ryan rose slowly, the wind whipping his overcoat ferociously against his legs. A storm was rolling in, the rumbling of thunder not far off in the distance. He squinted against the horizon, knowing the lightning would soon be following. Just as he was contemplating returning to the hotel for the night, his eyes caught sight of a blurry shape hunkered down amidst the remaining blackened framework.
He shook his head, trying to pry the image from his mind. The ashes swirled in the increasing wind, adding to the mirage-like quality of the scene. Ryan knew if he turned and looked back the figure would disappear, proving that it was just a figment of his imagination after all. But then the silhouette moved and stretched higher against the horizon. It was standing now, looking in his direction. It wasn’t that he could discern the stare from such a distance as much as feel it deep in his bones. He was pinned to his spot by invisible beams. Only one person had ever been able to make him feel like that with just one glance.
The sky had darkened ominously lending an even more surreal quality to the scene unfolding before him. The lightning flashed brightly, briefly backlighting the person striding toward him. Ryan’s words caught in his throat as the figure neared, emerging from the shadows, not daring to believe his own eyes.
His brother found his voice first. “Ryan.”
The voice sounded familiar, but there was a raspy undertone that was foreign. Ryan let his eyes soak in the sight he had been yearning for. He tried to dismiss it as wishful thinking, a conjuring of his subconscious. “You’re not real. You can’t be. This is just the stress of the past couple months catching up with me. You’re dead.”
“What?” Jonathan searched his older brother for a sign that he might be joking or messing with him somehow, but the paleness of his countenance suggested otherwise. “I’m not dead, Ryan. I’m right here,” Jonathan thinly assured him.
Ryan slowly closed the gap between them. His hand moved of its own volition to reach out and find Jonathan’s shoulder. He stared in wonderment as it did not pass through as he had initially feared. Ryan let his hand raise up a little further to his younger brother’s face, allowing it to linger as he cupped his cheek. What he felt beneath his fingertips was unmistakably solid flesh and blood. Whether his nerve endings tingled with electricity because of the ensuing storm or from the sheer hunger for this contact was indistinguishable. An unintelligible sound escaped his lips as he yanked Jonathan in closer for a long awaited hug.
Ryan did not see Jonathan wince. He just squeezed harder, pressing him closer, afraid that if he let go his brother would dissipate back into nothingness. Jonathan extricated himself from the hug, puzzled by his brother’s actions. “What’s going on, Ryan? Why are you here?”
“I was looking for you - for your...body.” Ryan averted his eyes in shame.
“What,” Jonathan repeated his initial question. “What made you think that...” Ryan’s nod in the direction of the ruins was all the answer he needed. A large clap of thunder coincided with his epiphany. He responded with a knowing and sympathetic look.
“How - how did you get out? Everything was destroyed.” Ryan tried, but was unsuccessful in hiding his bewilderment.
There wasn’t anything particularly funny about Ryan’s statement, but the corner of Jonathan’s mouth turned up slightly. “Do you remember how you and Braden used to sneak out at night?”
“The secret door to the root cellar?” Ryan was incredulous. “How did you know about that?”
Jonathan shrugged, his mouth twisting into a grimace as if pained. “I was small. Sometimes you guys talked and forgot I was there. I was a good listener.”
Ryan stood in amazement. “But the whole thing collapsed. Aidan, the firemen, they found your wallet, your watch...”
“Some things? Is that why you thought I was dead?” His question was punctuated by another flash of lightning and a peal of thunder.
The sky opened and fat raindrops pelted their heads. “The things you left behind...there was no other trace of you. We were told there was no way you could have survived,” Ryan guiltily admitted, regretting not listening to his gut and tearing the town apart until his brother was found. “What happened to you? Why did you stay away so long?”
Jonathan hesitated, twisting slightly into the wind. He narrowed his eyes against the increasingly slanting rain as he sought the proper words to explain. It was then that Ryan noticed the slight shaking of his lips. His brother shivered violently once and fell still. Another series of lightning strikes illuminated the world around them, allowing Ryan to get a glimpse of the gauze bandage peaking out from Jonathan’s collar. Whatever else had happened, whatever had caused him to stay away was unimportant at the moment. His brother was alive and Ryan’s renewed priority was to protect his well-being. “We can finish this conversation later. C’mon, let’s get you someplace dry where we can get you warmed up.”
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Jonathan came out of the tiny hotel bathroom, steam trailing behind him, with a towel draped loosely around his neck. Ryan glanced up from channel surfing and realized for the first time just how stiffly and slowly Jonathan was moving. It was if the past few months had accelerated the aging process, putting him way beyond his twenty-nine years. In some respects, Ryan speculated, that wasn’t far off the mark.
His brother gave him a sheepish look. “I hate to ask, but I can’t do it myself.”
Ryan accepted the items Jonathan held out for him and helped his brother sit down on the bed. He studied the extent of the damage running from the base of the neck down the length of his torso, and stopping at mid thigh. The wounds looked fairly fresh, not the healing burns of over two months ago.
“Whose been helping you do this?”
“I go back to an outpatient clinic every day. That’s why I had to stick around.” He could feel the unasked question on the tip of Ryan’s tongue. “I’ve only been out a few days. I had no idea what was going on back home or - you have to know I wouldn’t have let you go through that.” A shadow passed over his face. “Especially not after what we went through with Erin.”
Ryan was clinical in his application to conceal his true emotions. “I know.”
“So everyone really thinks I’m...?”
Ryan nodded. “There was a funeral...”
Jonathan’s head dropped with the weight of the knowledge of what his older brother must have gone through. “I’m so, so sorry, Ryan. I had no idea,” he reiterated. His tone took on a more frantic quality. “Everyone thinks I’m dead? Oh my God, Amanda. The baby. Emma!”
He had just inadvertently let it slip that Amanda was pregnant with his child, but judging from Ryan’s knowing look, it was old news.
“Yeah, they do. I’ve been making sure Amanda and the baby are taken care of, but they all miss you like crazy, Hockett.” Ryan paused, fumbling over his words. “I did, too...more than you’ll ever know.”
“If I’d had known...if I’d been able to...”
“It’s not your fault, Hockett. You didn’t know. I just - I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re sitting right in front of me now. I just want to know what happened.”
Jonathan hissed as Ryan hit a particularly sensitive area, but quickly regained his composure. “I, um- I came out of the root cellar door just as the building exploded. Some of the debris...Let’s just say stop, drop and roll doesn’t work as well as advertised.” He tried a cynical laugh that dissolved into a coughing fit.
Ryan offered him a glass of water, but he declined through the coughs. He reached over and plucked something from the pocket of his jacket. He took a long pull off an inhaler. “Residual damage,” he explained.
“Smoke?”
“Some, but from the tube, too.”
Ryan, who had resumed tending to his brother’s wounds, paused again. “My God, Hockett. How badly were you hurt?” The question seemed dense given extent of the burns, but he could never have fathomed it was that serious.
“Pretty bad, I guess,” Jonathan admitted. “I managed to get my jacket off and put out the fire. At least I think...Maybe I didn’t. After that things just get kind of...fuzzy. I don’t even remember how I got to the hospital. I just remember fading in and out a lot. Some of the that was from all the anesthesia, I guess.”
Ryan continued to work as he talked. “How much anesthesia are we talking?”
“I’m not sure exactly. Maybe three or four rounds. Skin grafts mostly. More needs to be done...obviously,” he added as an afterthought.
The elder Lavery tried to keep his voice neutral, trying to prevent the worry from showing through. “That’s going to be one heck of a scar.”
Jonathan shrugged noncommitally. Although he had many faults, vanity had never been one of them. “They’ll fade with time, I suppose. It’s the ones you can’t see that are the hardest to heal.”
Ryan inhaled sharply. That was the cue he had been waiting for. He was uncertain how to broach the subject with Jonathan, but he had been given a perfect opening. “Why did you go there? What did you hope to accomplish by blowing our childhood home to kingdom come?”
“I told you before, you already know why.”
Ryan took his time putting the last bandage in place. He came around to face Jonathan, almost deciding to shelve the discussion for another time. His brother did not look good; he was sweating profusely over his pasty complexion.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine.” There were those infamous words of denial again.
“Then I’ll ask you again - what were you hoping to do?”
Jonathan’s eyes bore into his with an intensity that was unmatched. “I didn’t just hope to, I did it.”
“What? What did you do?”
“I buried the past once and for all. I set us free.”
“Jonathan,” Ryan began gently, “we got out a long time ago. That building was empty. The only ghosts left are in here and here,” he said pointing to his head and heart respectively. “Blowing up an abandoned house won’t change that.”
“You - you and Braden got out. Erin and I....” Jonathan voice cracked and he blinked hard. “As long as that house was still standing, there was no hope for moving on. It was like some weird, macabre monument to our suffering. It had to be done. Can’t you understand that,” he virtually pleaded.
Ryan bent down and cupped the back of Jonathan’s neck, mindful of the bandages. “Yeah, Hockett. Actually I think I can.”
Jonathan’s eyes shone. “I know it doesn’t solve everything, but it’s a start, right?” He took a second to compose himself, his voice still wavering despite his valiant efforts. “God, Ryan...I’ve been lost, totally lost for so long.”
Ryan pulled him in gingerly for a hug. He didn’t know if it was more to comfort Jonathan or himself. “But you’re here now, and whatever it takes I’m going to be with you the whole way. You know that, right?”
Jonathan nodded and pulled back. “I know.” He gave a wan smile. “But there are some things even you can’t fix. I guess what I’m trying to say is I had to lose myself before I could really find myself.”
“You’ve never been lost, Hockett. Not really. You’ve had one blow after another until it was impossible to see straight and figure out which way was up. You’re going to get there. I know you will, Hockett. All the bad stuff is over now. Only good things to come.”
“That’s what Erin said...what Erin said right before she...”
“It’s going to be different this time. I promise.” Ryan didn’t want to give him false hope, but he had no reason to believe otherwise. He had every intention of making sure that promise was fulfilled. Nevertheless, he could feel the doubt that coursed through Jonathan. “Erin was so proud of you - she would be so proud of you to see how far you’ve come.”
“I know,” he acknowledged. “I read her diary.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And...do you finally get it?”
“Get what?”
“Erin and I moved past all the junk. She had faith in you - and so do I...always. Erin - she just wanted you to see what the rest of us see when we look at you.”
“A girlfriend-abusing, kidnapping, murderer,” Jonathan scoffed.
“Stop! Just stop!” Ryan commanded his full attention with his sudden outburst His next words were spoken softly and urgently. “A good man. A good, decent man. Her hope - and mine too - is that one day you’ll stop listening to all the voices and all the memories from the past and then you’ll actually be able to believe it, too.”
Jonathan, ever the skeptic, remained unresponsive. Ryan tried a new tactic. “I felt the same way once. Like I told you in Canada, I felt what you’ve been feeling all these years. The emptiness. That cold, black nothing. It was you and Erin that made me see how wrong I was. You can forgive the past, but you don’t have to relive it. You are not - are NOT destined to repeat it. You helped me. Now it’s my turn to make you see it, too.”
“Maybe one day I can forgive our past, but I don’t know if I can forgive myself.” He gave a long, forlorn sigh and the ever present sad smile returned to his lips. “But I’m working on it. I guess I got a lot further to go.”
“So how can I help you? What’s the next step? The ball is in your court, Hockett.”
“I need to go back to Pine Valley. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do. And then there’s some things I need to set right.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” Ryan wanted to return as soon as possible. As much as he hated to keep the people back home in the dark as far as Jonathan’s miraculous reappearance was concerned, he knew it was something that should be done in person. And leaving tonight was not an option. Judging by the look of things, Jonathan was on the verge of collapse. “Let’s get some rest and we’ll leave in the morning.”
“Yeah, okay.” Jonathan snapped off the light. “Goodnight, Ryan.”
“Goodnight...Jonboy.” Although the room was dusted in the shadows, the smile was evident in Ryan’s voice.
“That was just so...wrong.”
Ryan yelped in mock surprise as a pillow whizzed past his head. “Alright, alright. I give. Goodnight, Hockett. I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me too,” came the sleepy reply.
Missing for so long, the brotherly exchange warmed his heart. For the first time in months, Ryan dropped off to sleep easily and without that ache deep in his chest.
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Ryan awoke in the middle of the night to an odd rattling sound. In his disorientation, it took him a few seconds to locate the sound as coming from the bed next to him. He slid out from under his sheets and knelt down next to his brother. Jonathan’s eyes were half open and his teeth were chattering violently, the heat radiating off him like off of the pavement on a hot day. “Jesus, Hockett, you’re burning up.”
Jonathan’s eyes had trouble focusing. It was an alarming sight, given his usual sharp acuity. “We need to get you back to the hospital.”
“I’m so sick of hospitals,” Jonathan mumbled, barely coherent.
“I know, Hockett, but I thought I’d lost you twice already. I’m not willing to risk losing you again.”
“I’m fine.”
“Where have I heard that before?” Even though Ryan was outwardly rolling his eyes, on the inside his heart was jack-rabbiting. He didn’t have to be a doctor to see this was no ordinary fever. “C’mon, you’re going whether I have to call an ambulance or take you myself. You decide.”
“Alright,” he conceded weakly. “But not here. Pine Valley.”
“What? You can’t be serious!” Jonathan struggled to keep his gaze from wavering. “We’re like a thousand miles away.”
“I’m deadly serious.” Jonathan licked dry lips. “Think about it. There’ll be a lot less explanation if I’m in the hospital.”
Ryan had to admit that there was a certain twisted logic to his thinking. “There’s no way they’ll let you on a plane in this shape.”
“So we’ll drive.”
“It’s way too far.”
“I’ll make it.”
“Jon, you’re way too sick.”
“I’ll make it,” he said firmly. His head flopped back against the pillow, all his energy spent.
Ryan took a long look at his brother. His hair was plastered to his head, darkened by flop sweat, contrasting sharply with his paleness. He knew it was not the smartest idea, but once Jonathan dug in his heels there was very little chance of talking him out of it. And they didn’t have time for petty arguments. Against all his better judgment, he agreed. “Alright, Hockett. I’m going to load up on supplies and get you some medicine. Then we’ll go.”
He expected a smile or a sigh of relief, but Jonathan had already dropped back off into a feverish slumber.
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As they came to a screeching halt in front of the emergency room doors of Pine Valley Hospital, the sky was showing the first streaks of light. It had taken over sixteen hours to get here and it was the longest sixteen hours of Ryan’s life. He oscillated between hunching over the steering wheel, pushing the car as fast as it would go and pulling over on the side of the road to force Jonathan to drink and take more medicine. The stretched out silences were more than he could bear. At one point, he kept his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder to reassure himself by the rise and fall of his chest that he was still with him.
Ryan hopped out of the car, not bothering to shut the door. He burst through the entrance and nearly collided with Julia. “Oh, Julia. Thank God! I need your help.”
“What is it?” In her weary, sleep-deprived state, she was having trouble following him.
“I found him. I found my brother,” Ryan nearly shouted.
Ryan’s words came in short pants. It took her more than a few seconds to register what he was saying. “Jon - Jonathan’s alive?”
“Yes. Yes, he is. And he’s very sick.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s outside. He needs help.”
Without another word Julia started to grab a wheelchair, but Ryan stopped her with a frown. Understanding, she grabbed a gurney and followed him outside. She knelt down beside a barely conscious Jonathan. “Hey you.”
“Hey,” was all he could manage.
“Could you give me a hand,” Julia directed to Ryan.
He gently extricated his brother from the car and helped him to lay down. Once inside, Ryan gave his hand a squeeze before Julia and another nurse whisked him away. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew Joe Martin was shaking him awake.
“Ryan, I’m sorry to wake you, but I understand you found Jonathan alive.” Ryan nodded his confirmation. “If you could fill me on a little on his condition, it would help me to treat him.”
“Yeah, of course.” He offered what little information he knew about the burns and the surgeries and finished with the onset of the fever. “Please, Joe...you gotta help him.”
“We’ll do everything we can, Ryan.” Dr. Martin gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder and disappeared behind the double doors.
The waiting began. He was no stranger to it, but it didn’t make it any easier. He checked the time and decided it wasn’t too early to call. Annie should be on her way to work by now. He picked up the phone and began to dial.
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When Julia finally emerged from the room, Ryan shot out of his chair. “How is he? Is he going to be okay?”
She sighed audibly. “He’s not doing so hot. What were you thinking driving all the way with him like that? That was really, really not smart.”
Ryan ran his hand vigorously over his head and face. “I know. I know. Jonathan insisted and you know how hard-headed he is. I figured it would take more time to argue with him than to get him here, ya know?”
Julia relaxed a little and softened her tone. “He’s got a pretty bad infection. He was starting to get septic, but Joe thinks it was caught in time. He’s going to need another surgery.”
“Well, how soon?”
Although the heat was on full blast, she hugged herself as if cold. “They have to stabilize him first. Right now he’s not strong enough. He’s also got a touch of pneumonia complicating things. They’d like to see it clear up a bit before that can happen. Hopefully soon.”
“Can I see him now?”
“Yeah, just don’t stay in there too long. He really needs to rest.” She started to go, but turned around as a thought suddenly struck her. “Does Amanda know?”
“Not yet. And I have absolutely no clue how to tell her.”
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Annie burst through the doors. She had been unable to slow down since Ryan’s phone call. Julia was behind the desk of the nursing station, but was writing intently and hadn’t seen her. Annie didn’t wait for her to look up. “Is it true? Is he here?”
There was no need to ask who she was referring to. “Yeah, it’s true.” Julia face split into a wide grin that was contagious.
“This is unbelievable! Where’s Ryan?”
“He’s in there with Jonathan.” She illustrated which room with her pen.
“Thanks, Julia,” she called back behind her as she went running down the hall. Annie made it as far as the door before she stopped short. Her elation was brought crashing down as she caught sight of who she believed to be Jonathan. There were so many tubes and wires and bandages surrounding him, it was difficult to be sure.
All the emotions of the past few months bubbled to the surface and came spilling out onto her cheeks. She wiped at her face and attempted to make herself presentable before she went in.
She pushed the door open a crack, not sure if she wanted to intrude. Her husband’s voice came spilling out the door despite his hushed tones. “Please. Please, let them do it, Hockett.”
“No!”
“Your body needs to rest to get better, Jonathan. And this will help.”
“And I said...no. No. More. Tubes.” His reply was halting and muffled.
“You’re breathing - you know that thing you do to live - really sucks right now.”
“You suck.”
Annie had to stifle a laugh at that last comment. Even under these dire circumstances, each fell into the big brother/little brother role seamlessly. The refreshing banter was definitely welcome after the last few months of crushing silence.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what the conversation was about. Ryan meant well, but trying to force Jonathan into doing something he didn’t want to do was only adding to the strain on him which it was plain to see, he couldn’t afford. Annie seized the opportunity to interrupt the tension.
“Hey you, welcome back!”
“Annie...” His voice shook with trepidation. She relieved his anxiety by moving in for a hug. His arm hung limply around her shoulders, too weak to give a proper squeeze. He removed the oxygen mask and struggled to raise up to kiss her cheek.
“Jon, put that back on -“
”Hey, Ryan. I could really use a cup of coffee. How about you?” Annie not-so-subtly requested.
Ryan threw his hands up in mock-surrender as he left the room, realizing he was clearly outnumbered..
Annie and Jonathan shared a knowing look. “He’s just worried about you, you know? The last few months were unbearable for him. For all of us.”
“Annie...”
She cringed inwardly, realizing she unintentionally stoked the fires of his guilt. “There’s no explanation needed. Obviously, you didn’t know and weren’t able to come back. But now that you’re here, we just don’t want to lose you again.”
“How’s Emma?”
“She’s dealing.”
“I want to see her, but I’m afraid,” he swallowed hard, trying to catch his breath, “I’m afraid that she won’t understand.”
“It’ll be hard to explain, but I think that after she sees you she won’t care what exactly happened.”
“Have you seen Amanda? How is she?”
“Physically, she’s fine. But...she’s had a rough time.”
“I need to see her. I need to...God this is so messed up.”
Annie took a good look at him. His skin glistened with sweat from the effort of trying to produce enough air to form a sentence. “Soon. I think Ryan’s right about one thing. You really need to focus on getting better. Not only for your sake, but for Amanda’s and the baby’s.”
“Alright.”
“‘Alright’, what?” Annie held her breath anticipating his response. She had appealed to his obligatory sense of responsibility. Both brothers were blessed - or cursed, depending on one’s point of view - with an innate compulsion to choose the honorable path. Put to Jonathan the way it had been, she foresaw his choice as the one that would not only be best for him, but for his child as well.
Jonathan drew a shaky breath in resignation. “Alright. Tell them they can put the tube in.”
Annie leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, feeling the dampness on her lips. “I know it’s tough, but it’s the right decision.”
“Right.” Jonathan took a sudden interest in the ceiling tiles. “Tell them to do it before I change my mind.”