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Title: Forget Me Not
Author: Badger
Pairing: No definitive, romantic pairing yet. It is, however, by all accounts a Spashley story. Mentions of past relationships are also included at this point. Other pairings may ensue.
Rating: R for language and themes
Summary: I fear to give away the mystery. The enigma is what makes this story. All I can say is it’s a future-fic.
Author’s Notes: As per usual, this is one of my long, drawn-out fics. It contains some themes which some people might find confusing or odd. I’ll do the best I can to make the laws and events of my universe clear, but part of what my fic is about is unravelling the obscurity and the fact that, most of the time, we really don’t know that much about the world around us or how things work. I’ve also tried to add shades of surrealism and depth and intensity, not so much right now but expect it to happen a little later on. I’m trying to emulate a few shows and stories and films that have really inspired and intrigued me with their style, which is difficult to do considering the difference between visual, graphic media and text.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or places or likenesses of people, real or imagined, expressed in this story. The plot, however, is entirely of my own creation.
Feedback: You’d damn well better give it to me.
Archiving: Please, just give me credit for it.
Warning: Character death; drug use; descriptions of violence and angst; darkness, depression and thoughts of suicide/homicide; supernatural themes; some behaviour written herein may be considered immoral or be thought of as questionable; coarse language and probably some scenes of a sexual nature.
It’s a long story where the beginning and the middle and the end none of us have yet to reckon with are all interwoven into one cataclysmic breath between mundane and monumental, but we have to start somewhere. It all ties together along the lonesome road anyway. Who are we to decide which moment is more important or significant or which life is more central to the tale? Maybe that isn’t what it means. After all, not every decision we make involves valuing one thing over another in order to determine a choice, regardless of how sincerely it might sound that way. But anyway…
Chapter One,
The Awakening:
Part One – Consciousness
“I couldn’t protect you from yourself, and I can’t save you from the future...I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do for you this time…” -- Spencer
May 23rd, 2012
There was numbness and nothingness in her dark and empty void. Little else could accurately describe it, even if by all accounts the direct opposite was more factual. That was what it felt like, although she couldn’t feel anything really. Her senses failed to connect her with the outside world. Her emotions and thoughts were trapped in suspended animation and never made it to life. Had she been aware of it, there would be naught but blackness surrounding her. If she dreamed in those long, lonesome, eternal moments that struggled to survive and exhaustedly turn over, then she wasn’t percipient of them and they were rarely lucid enough to qualify as dreams in the classical sense. Where she was, the state she was in could hardly be called an existence.
Outside of the shutdown realm in her mind, the world was a great deal brighter and littered with shades of white that glowed in rays of artificial light, but it was equally devoid of life. All that disturbed the total stillness was cold and mechanical, leaving it just as devoid as if it were completely frozen in time. The gentle hum of an electrically powered atmosphere and buzzing fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling and the slow but piercing beep of a monitor that nonchalantly told the world ‘nope; she’s still alive’ at regular intervals were the only sounds to hear, but she was trapped in a silence which ran far deeper and overwhelmed everything outside.
Her body lay flat on her assigned, standard issue bed covered by a patched blanket and neatly tucked in sheet which had been made up for aesthetics several times over her stay without her notice. She was utterly motionless. Even her breathing was slow and almost impossible to see. Various wires, tubes and other generic devices were hooked up to her unconscious form, some essentially superfluous and some directly necessary for her survival. Although she wasn’t in any imminent danger or a critical condition – not anymore, at least – as long as she was stranded in a coma, she was helpless and relentlessly on the verge of slipping into, if not death, then something near enough. On the end of her bed, there was a chart and some of her personal and medical information listed on sheets of paper attached thereabouts. At the very header of the document, two words were written. ‘Ashley Davies.’
Suddenly, the beeping began to get slightly faster and the numbers on the dark screen changed, although not quite enough to warrant concern or any serious level of attention from the staff in the hospital. A brief fluctuation of that kind was not unusual and merely got recorded, in case the doctors or relatives or anonymous others were asking for that kind of information. Ordinarily, that wasn’t even done, but in this ward the circumstances of their patients were somewhat unique and required just a little closer observation, and sometimes a hell of a lot closer. That was why it was established. It was why she was there. This was one clinic people weren’t going to be checking out of in the conventional manner.
Then, for several more moments, everything was normal and her state returned to being exactly as it had remained for far too long. But shortly after the initial leap in her heart-rate, it jumped again. On reflex alone, her muscles began to tense and her eyelids weakly flickered, although staying firmly shut. The staff responsible for her care were immediately alerted when the minute but significant activity was all picked up by the machines at her bedside. She had no idea what was going on. Despite physically stirring, her mind was just as blank and detached as before. Nothing made it into her senses; her perception was shot. For the time being, she was no more than an empty mass on the gradual yet massive journey towards recovering the essence of what made her as a person, or whatever of that was left.
The nurse on duty hurried into the room in case she was experiencing complications or the activity had come from some kind of emergency but as far as they knew there was no pressing reason for her to develop a bad reaction. She wasn’t under treatment for anything, after all, so, beyond standard procedure, the only valid cause for concern was if the area had been contaminated with an illness from another part of the hospital. Quickly striding over to check the monitors were working properly, she noted that the patient didn’t appear to look like she was suffering from an allergic reaction or a fever, and, in fact, were it not for the coma she would have seemed fine. Looking with a bit more intent for any symptoms, she realised that her eyelids were subtly twitching, and any suspicion that the equipment was failing quickly went out the window.
Was she really waking up? The young nurse checked her neck for a pulse and, on some level, to see if she would react to the touch. Although she didn’t respond, the monitor was indeed accurate in speeding up. What if she was coming around? Uncertainly, she checked in the first way that popped into her head. “Hello?” she whispered, but the girl did not stir. For a moment, she was vaguely disappointed, but then she’d glanced down and spotted her fingers, one of which was clipped to another device, tensing and trying to move with a little, fleeting success. It was obvious the girl was starting to regain consciousness. Quickly, the staff member moved down to the end of the bed, reading over the listed information for whom to contact in such an event. Her heart fell. “Oh dear.” She sighed, allowing her gaze to flicker back up to ‘Ashley’ with an awkward frown, almost like she thought she should apologise for what she was about to do, but she left without another word. She had quite a number of phone calls to make, very few of them good.
As the door closed behind her with a quiet click, she didn’t notice the other presence standing in the corner of the small room, watching anxiously over the scene and stepping forward when they were left alone. The figure approached, barely daring to hope for this miracle to become reality, and grazed a hand across the tightly wrapped body underneath the blankets, bending down by her side and gently brushing back her dark brunette hair. “Ashley,” she pleaded for her to respond to her name, lightly nudging her on the shoulder, though it had no effect, “Can you hear me? I know you’re in there.” The girl’s eyes darted over the familiar form beneath her, almost desperately. Well, in all honesty, she was desperate. All her hopes relied on her old friend reacting and finally waking up to the sight of a face she recognised, although she could just as easily be shattered to pieces by a failure of that to happen. But she had faith, for the simple reason that she had to. This was her last chance.
The young coma victim didn’t stir, or not any noticeable amount more than she already was beforehand. She sighed and dropped her head, racked with despair and disappointment, but she soon rationalised that it was too early for her to be coherent of the world around her just yet. After all, it had been just shy of four months since the day that ruined both their lives – in fact, collaterally it ruined everybody’s lives, probably far beyond repair – and that would have to take at least a little while to recover from. Her eyes strayed up to the ceiling, though they pictured the sky, and her lips moved in a silent prayer; she needed this to work. But she’d gotten herself over-excited and, by all accounts, dependent on this going as she so fervently hoped it would.
Solemnly, a shadow veiling her faded eyes, she laced her hands together and sank to her knees, literally begging at the bedside of her unconscious friend. If this didn't achieve success, she was at a total lack for anything to look forward to. She was gone into a dismal place if this failed. “Please Ashley; please open your eyes and look at me. Tell me you remember me or ask me where you are or…” She sniffed, shaking her head and wiping away the moisture threatening to cloud her vision as she smiled in the saddest of ways, “Or say that you had the most wonderful dream ‘and you were there and you were there and you were…’” Continuing to observe the completely dormant body, the mixed emotions of speaking this way to someone she had every cause to hate without remorse, relying so heavily on the well-being of a person she may never be able to forgive – the one who destroyed everything good in their intertwined world – arose in the form of anger. Her fingers curled up into infuriated fists, slamming them down into the bed. “Come on, damn it! If you can’t wake up then give me a fucking sign that I’m not wasting my time by thinking you can hear my voice!” She screamed directly into her ear.
Ashley just lay there, vaguely twitching just like she had been before. If her heart-rate lurched then neither girl was capable of figuring that out. And it continued to beep. The nearly crushed but determined girl pushed herself up and, her frustration seething, she ran a hand through her hair. She wanted to be insightful and wise, making the best out of her tragic opportunity in the process, but really, how could she not despise her? It would have been cold and inhuman not to feel averse to her. No one who knew the truth could blame her for it. Well, few would believe the truth. Even she could scarcely register what she’d been forced to rather abruptly accept as fact, and she’d personally experienced the evidence. It hurt and was brutal beyond comprehension.
Approaching footsteps caught her attention and she turned towards the hallway in a mild startle. Someone was coming and she wasn’t supposed to be in there; no one was. But, when the nurse walked past the glass window, down the corridor and opened the door to enter, the unseen figure was already gone and no one ever knew she was there to begin with. The hurried rhythm of hard shoes against the hospital floor came closer to the bed, the staff member checking for further signs of improvement. Although she didn’t appear to be any nearer to fully waking up just yet, her vital functions hadn’t slowed in a manner to suggest she was becoming any worse either. Perhaps today actually would be the day she came around and regained consciousness.
With a sad sigh, the nurse looked grimly down at the unfortunate, unsuspecting patient. From the sound of some of the people she’d talked to, this girl didn’t have a lot of positive things waiting for her on the outside. The case was indeed quite the opposite. “You’ve gotten yourself in a whole lot of trouble there, Ashley.” She muttered, shaking her head and fixing her pillow so that she seemed more comfortable. “When you’re up, you’re probably going to wish you’d stayed comatose a lot longer.” It was more than a little strange and, actually, rather miserable to know the fate preparing to swallow this pretty young kid whole before she was even cognisant of her own survival. What had happened to get her here? It had to be an accident. Would she make it out okay? Although she wasn’t sure why or where this came from, she hoped this person she’d never even met would get a fair shot at something normal. “Good luck, hun,” she whispered, floating her fingers over a tensing, trying to move arm, “You’re going to need it.”
Blue eyes shifted restlessly back and forth between the front of the large, tertiary class and the pen in her steadily moving hand, leaving little black marks all over the notepaper, otherwise blank on her desk. She couldn’t focus on what the professor was saying, even though she knew it was probably important. It was okay though; no one who knew her well enough could possibly expect her, within reason, to be able to completely devote herself to this comparatively trivial matter of education, so her friends always let her borrow their notes. Really, there was no need to ask why she couldn’t concentrate or make any real sense of what he was teaching.
Spencer was exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally, and utterly tired of everything in her life at that time, although hopefully the mess might be starting to clear up a little bit at last. Her head hurt too; she’d have to take some more meds the second this class was over. It wasn’t so much that her burden of duty was overflowing or overwhelming, although up until recently it undoubtedly had been, but more that all the shit she had to deal with and worry about was taking its toll when she couldn’t readily afford it out of her own pocket. She barely slept at all anymore, and when she did the dreams haunted her with terrible memories and frightening possibilities that reminded her why she shouldn’t be greedily gathering sleep. Guilt was easily her greatest weakness. Because she lacked the ability to make everything better or perhaps prevent it from happening in the first place, she hated herself and assumed she must be doing something wrong and failing by her own inadequacy. It must be her fault if she wasn’t being selfless enough for the benefit of those who needed her.
And yet, despite trying so hard to help numerous others, she was a painfully lonely person. Did she even notice how much she was hurting herself? Probably not. Chances were she wouldn’t care if it was staring her right in the face. Her looming depression was just about all that let her know she was still alive, as much as she might be depleted of any enthusiasm about it half the time. Her life existed only for others. She was just a kid and she had far too many problems to cope with simultaneously; too much for anyone her age to handle. Poor girl. But she didn’t have much choice in the matter as it was, so essentially she just had to grit her teeth and put up with it if she wanted to persevere for any significant length of time. And so many people needed her around. So being strong was her only option. It sucked.
The blonde continued tapping and turning the pen between her fingers, trying to keep her head up and her eyes open for a few mere minutes more, setting herself a small goal of time and, when she reached it, extending that target by pushing it a little further away. Even though she was in a fairly comfortable position, her legs stung with the unmistakable, painful feeling of falling asleep, just like the rest of her mind and body urged her to do for a couple of hours. She wanted to give in, surrender and try to get some fucking rest, if not actual sleep, but it was a little late for that now. She decided then and there that she’d skip her inconsequential afternoon classes and go home. Home; it was the one constant in her world, even if it didn’t have quite the same comfort that it used to. At least she didn’t have to show up to this institution like she would with high school. Thank god people here were pretty understanding when it came to her dismal situation, professors included. They were probably waiting for her to take some time off, which she had yet to do. Silly child, trying to do everything all at once, thinking she’s invincible or something akin to that, at risk to her own sanity.
Her crumpled, crumbled, unfathomably sore attention span was disturbed by a heavy vibration purring around her waist. As per the normal for most places of this kind, cell phones were not allowed in class, but she kept her pager with her at all times in case of an emergency, even though there rarely was one that required it incurring any use. It was a precaution she always took, simply to appease her discontented heart so she could be forever available. She shifted back in her seat, unhooking the small device from her pocket and covertly trying to check the incoming number without arousing any suspicion. Her heart leapt, faltering into arrhythmia. She immediately recognised the number as coming from the hospital; she’d memorised it the second she got it. That surely meant that something must have been happening with Ashley. Oh god. Was she alright?
Without any further need for thought, driven by passion and instinct, she shot to her feet and tore out of the lecture hall, leaving all her stuff behind, not even granting it the credit of a second glance. It didn’t matter, nothing did; not in comparison to Ashley. She only hoped that she was alright. Her continued energy kept her alive. The class buzzed with confusion and speculation, watching Spencer race out and slam the door shut behind her with not even a fleeting excuse or explanation as to why. Her friends had a vague idea, though they had enough tact not to voice it, sharing knowing looks amongst each other like a secretive clan. “Alright, okay, let’s keep this going, people!” the professor called to them all, gesturing towards himself in an attempt to once more accumulate their focus.
Outside, through the halls and campus of UCLA, the blonde found a burst of energy and intense power that she had lacked for such a long time and it inspired her to run as though for her life. But regardless of her actual speed, she couldn’t go quickly enough. It felt like she was being weighed down and held in one place as if everything around her was in a cycle of perpetual slow-motion. She could only recall being in a greater, more desperate rush once before, and that was the day when Ashley went into the hospital. Now, even the surrounding air seemed to impede her progress, getting in her way like a tangible obstacle blocking her, inescapably. She wished she could sprint faster. She needed to get there.
She couldn’t be late again.
Quietly but indisputably obvious over the near-silent sounds of generic medical machinery, the comatose girl let out a weak moan. Her one-time friend was shocked into several moments of pressing, utterly stunning disbelief, her ears pricking up to the subtle noise. She didn’t want to have her hopes denied as a mistake yet again, in which case she might be damn near angry enough to storm out and waste this integral blessing of a chance which she couldn’t, as a sane individual, throw away so carelessly. But then she did it another time, practically whimpering and her hands loosely grasping down like claws at the blankets under her fingers. Whether this was a valid sign of lucidity or not was still a mystery none could solve, but she took it as a cue to try her luck, immediately rushing to her side.
“Ashley? Hello? Can you hear me?” she asked in a calm but considerably firm tone, holding herself above the bed with one arm, leaning over her form and having given up on the concept of eliciting a reaction from her with the provocation of physical contact, because she didn’t think it would succeed. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell if she was getting through to her or not. Her current method of determination was flawed. If she was coherent and able to react then she mightn’t know how to communicate that. What could she do to give her a real, definitive way to demonstrate a state of awareness pertaining to her presence or a vague understanding of who she was or what she was saying? “Err, okay, if you can hear me then please give me a sign. Try to open your eyes or please, just do something. Show me that you’re still in there.” She sighed, almost despondently – not satisfied with her attempt to negotiate and afraid it would wind up being for nothing but a defeat of current false hope – and kept her eyes darting all around, trying to spot even the slightest, involuntary twitch which could potentially be interpreted as an intentional reaction to her request. There was none. “Come on, Ashley,” she insisted, like a spectator cheering her on from a crowd, “I know you can do it.”
For a moment, there was absolute stillness as her every prior convulsion ceased in sync and naught but the steady meter of beeping and buzzing monitors accented the atmosphere, but then her eyelids tensed in a very deliberate manner, squinting tightly, and she groaned in exertion. The figure’s breath caught in amazement and her own eyes went wide. Did this mean she could really, truly interact with her or was she just seeing things? Surely this couldn’t be a joke. If it was, the universe was a cruel prankster. “Uhh…huh…?” Ashley mumbled and breathed unintelligibly, rolling her head from side to side, only slightly succeeding with a tiny rotation. Her one-time friend literally jumped, pumped her fists into the air in a celebration and laughed with pure, unmatched joy, dangling on the verge of falling into pieces in the face of relief. The emotional flood, the high was incredible. But she stopped and pulled herself together, clearing her throat. There was still a possibility that her perceived display of responsiveness was nothing but a brutal coincidence. She had to double check, just to be safe.
Kneeling on the floor next to her again, she found her voice and rationality, well-aware that this might not be quite as optimistic an outlook as she so emphatically needed it to be. A dreary, sulking facet of her personality asked in a low mumble why she was so excited, and when she gave it some serious consideration, her initial uplift was shot down in flames of pessimism. Even if she could communicate with her, none of the imminent future events were likely to be any easier because of it. They were mutually doomed to a futile and melancholy existence. Many others were as well, but at least they could achieve a second chance at recovering to a level similar to before, if they so desired. Neither of them would get that fantastic fortune, unless some miracle allowed Ashley to walk free, leaving her isolated in her perilous decline. If she did, she wasn’t entirely sure how fond of that development she would be; after all, it wasn’t entirely fair was it? Selfish or not, she didn’t like her getting away with it for no good excuse. There was only a slim chance that she would, though, regardless of whether or not she actually lifted a finger to help.
But she shortly discarded her digression off of her more directly relevant thoughts and focused strictly on the closed eyes struggling to open underneath her disciplined half-stare, half-glare with purpose, concentrating with intent on the present time. She wasn’t sure just how much effort on her part was strictly necessary to get her presence across successfully. “Just take it easy; don’t be scared.” The girl all but dictated, speaking very slowly and sharply, in case it helped. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d said that and it was frankly the first thing to pop into her head, but she did care on some level, perhaps only out of her own self-serving desires or maybe because she expected the disaster that would shortly follow when she actually regained consciousness and felt sympathetic. “Can you understand me? Do you remember who I am?”
Judging from the expression of struggle and what may have been confusion – that was, of course, the more optimistic assessment of reading into it – on her face, she couldn’t make sense of her words or where she was or any number of things. A slit of white and dark appeared between her heavy, tense lids, barely there at all. She prayed she could see her. This moment would determine everything from there on out. It meant the world to her. The patient gradually moved on the bed and let her obscure, hazy vision stray over the indistinct figure hovering above her. Her brow narrowed, though she didn’t know why. “…Kelly…?” whispered Ashley, her voice raspy and harsh from lack of use and strained from a lengthy hibernation and living in suspended animation that was closer to a temporary death.
It had sounded like she didn’t have any faint idea where she remembered the name from, and really she did not. Her senses were clouded by a mist that enveloped everything past the horizon and into her deepest, most distant and separated core in one fell swoop and her mind was disconnected from her body, which she couldn’t even be sure was there at all, aside from the fact it seemed to be sucked dry, but something lost inside her prompted her to speak that meaningless word, linking it with that foggy voice echoing through the cavernous shadows of her stinging head. What was its significance? What was going on? There were no thoughts and only a waning call for emotion. Her new realm was like a disjointed dream and existence hurt.
“YES!” Kelly shouted at the top of her lungs, falling into her arms, dropping down onto the floor as though physically knocked over and looking straight up, lit by bright hysteria. “Oh thank you god! Thank you so fucking much.” She felt tears welling up and she was too damn consumed by happiness for any slight restraint or control over them. By then, she’d pretty much forgotten what that felt like. She didn’t care about holding herself back; she had everything to celebrate and nothing more to lose. She knew she was going to cry. At long last, her blind patience and final surviving strand of faith had been rewarded. No one alive could possibly grasp how much this simple acknowledgement meant to her. How were they supposed to relate? It was a far deviation out of their way to put themselves in her shoes. But if she dwelled on that subject, she would go insane, although maybe she already was and this craziness was all just a sick hallucination. But that made too much sense to be the real story.
Muttering what was supposed to be a common verse of prayer and worship in Hebrew but wound up choppy and mixed together to say and mean naught from a linguistic standpoint as her head tried to grasp those telling, mind-blowing moments, she sat up and, a few seconds later, grabbed the nearby desk to assist with pulling herself to her feet, her force not even slightly displacing the pathetic, unbalanced table from its spot. Sniffling and spluttering in rapturous awe beyond description and utter gratitude, holding a trembling hand over her lips, gasping for breath amidst her mirthful weeping, the profound nature seeped in through her skin and ruled her from within. Her arguably selfish wish had at last come true after a long and terrifying wait. There was a reason to know something other than tragedy for the first time in four fucking months of extreme psychological torment and isolation.
When her vision cleared to a suitable extent that allowed her to glance down again, she observed that Ashley had slipped back into a calm unconsciousness at some point during her sweet yet unshakably morose stupor of joy, gracious thanks and holy praise. Perhaps it was a little too early for her to be expelling so much energy, not yet fully recovered or better. However, this complication did nothing to diminish her happiness. She knew she could hear her and possibly even see her and that was going to keep her going for at least a little while longer. With a bright and emotional smile, she stood up, allowing the magnificence to wash over her like cascading raindrops falling on the desert sands of her a drought some thought may never end. It wouldn’t last, but for now she could relish in an abundance of once murdered possibility and hope. She wasn’t done yet.
The nurse lifted her eyelid, shining a penlight into her dilated pupil, but it retracted and became smaller at the intrusion of brightness on her long slumber. She groaned softly at the absolute exhaustion her entire being was under, blurred and distorted figures she could barely detect moving around in the vicinity of her gaze. If they were talking, she didn’t know it and their words sparked no recollection or any instantly recognisable importance. She felt so distant from herself, like she’d left not only her body but her whole life too. Memory escaped her while she lay there, watching the most pressing and looming blotch of colour recede and then fade to darkness. She couldn’t feel her own breathing or pulse, though the information that she should have one was foreign to her. Everything outside was just a jumble. They couldn’t expect her to comprehend it, never mind interact, surely.
At that very moment, Spencer was disregarding every shred of logic and common sense in her being and ignoring the screams of her overworked muscles, forcing them to absorb the impact of each severe stomp against the ground and pump harder, pushing her speed even faster. Fuck anybody who got in her way; she needed to know if she was alright and, damn it, she had to see her. Thankfully her run was not interrupted by one collision or close encounter that she couldn’t swerve and avoid. Each breath was cutting like sharp blades along the back of her throat, but she kept the lack of air in the back of her mind, concerned solely with making it to her side. She couldn’t live with herself if she was too god damn late yet another time.
Of course, she knew where her room was off by heart. She hadn’t stopped coming to see her, fruitlessly staying with her on a long vigil and believing that, on some level, her persistent attempts to talk with her were being heard and absorbed until a couple of weeks ago. Eventually, it just became an unfortunate and depressing fact that she couldn’t balance everything all at once without support, for which she was in a barren and arid stretch of desert, especially not if she wanted to keep on functioning herself. If she had the choice, she never would have left her room, but she wasn’t family so she was already restricted, predominantly, to visiting hours and there were other people out there who really needed her and didn’t have trained medical professionals to make sure they were okay. They were not okay; they might never be. She had to be there for them. Besides, it wasn’t as if her family were still taking care of her every basic need, so what possible alternatives were there?
Now, she was beginning to regret that decision. She never meant to miss a thing, particularly not when it was so urgent it required her to be contacted on her emergency number. Dread pulled her under the rising tide. Around the final corner she sped, like a coloured flash heading down the hallway. She skidded to a halt, stretched out across the doorway, breathing heavily, and her pulse beat relentlessly in her throat. Long before she could so much as manage to glimpse Ashley or subsequently asses her condition as ‘thank god’ or ‘oh fuck no’, Spencer’s eyes grew into a large and furious glare of sparks and daggers. What were they doing here? How come they had arrived before her? What could they want from her? She was in a fucking coma! Couldn’t they wait? Was she alright? Why didn’t she get to know instead of them?
Two similarly dressed men turned towards her and so did the nurse, who stepped back from the bed and made her way over, blocking her view of the room and the one person she cared to see. She felt an urge to shove her out of the way and barge inside, but that probably wasn’t wise or sagely while they were there. “I’m sorry, miss, but you’ll have to wait outside until they’re done.” Said the older woman, her tone soft and apologetic, trained to maintain a passive tone to avoid provoking unfavourable reactions from people who were already in a bad way. She couldn’t say it, but she didn’t think this was entirely fair either. It wasn’t like the patient was going anywhere; why did they have to be in such a rush to ruin her life? “It should only be a minute, and then she’s all yours.” She ushered Spencer to turn around and gently gave her a shove, making her stumble out into the hallway and then shutting the door behind her too quickly for her to even think about blocking it or getting back in.
“Fuck.” The blonde cursed, slamming her fist into the wall behind her and leaning back against it, trying to catch her spent, depleted breath. What, was it against regulation to let her know what the hell was going on with her incapacitated girlfriend? Her chest heaved in and out and up and down with every frustrated inhale and exhale. Waiting was nearly as bad as having her heart broken into irreplaceable fragments and swept away into the wind like dust by a delivery of horrible news. She remembered that prominently. Her nightmares about that day were so incessant and malicious, her only options were to take plenty of sleeping pills or always stay awake until she just dropped and went out like a burnt light bulb, too tired to dream. Nervous with anticipation, a part of her mind rationalised that, since those two guys were back and waiting in her room then…Did that mean--? Oh god! Her eyes bulged and excitement rocked her system, almost knocking her clear off her feet. She must be waking up! This was too good to be true.
Even with the door shut, she could still hear them talking inside; her hospital room had thin walls. With the corridor so silent and mostly deserted, she could pretty well make out everything they were saying. Not bothering to think about useless manners, she unabashedly eavesdropped, without even pretending that she wasn’t listening in. Honestly, she was kind of hoping that doing so might sabotage their intentions to make her suffer the consequences later on, but it was too late for that and she knew it. And it wasn’t right either. Her eyes closed as good times they would never know again and days she dearly missed appeared in her recollection, unforgotten. She felt her head hang, dropping down with grief and depression. It was tragically lamentable; she regretted it all constantly, even though she was doing her best to move on and was arguably doing better than anyone else in that area. Only her undying love for Ashley excluded her from hating her as much as everybody else did. She knew she stood alone as the sole person on her side, and she couldn’t blame a single one of the numerous others for feeling so negatively – and the understatement of the year award goes to… – towards her. So many lives torn apart…she missed them…she wished they were there the same way as before…but there are some things you just can’t come back from…
“Miss Davies? Ma’am, if you can hear me I need you to let me know.” Said the first man in a strikingly southern accent, despite the fact it was very faded, standing over her at the end of her standard issue bed. He didn’t know it, but she could hear him, however, that alone wasn’t sufficient or of any use because she couldn’t make sense of a word he was saying. The pale, dark-haired visitor shook his head and turned to his partner, fidgeting out of habit with the brim of his hat which he held politely in front of his waist. “We can’t take her in like this; there ain’t no way it’s legal.” His taller companion shrugged, talking on his strictly business cell phone, filling a superior in on the situation and waiting for further direction. The nurse received his gaze next, at that time switching the pack of anonymous fluid in her IV tube with a new one. “Do you know if she has actually interacted with anyone as of yet, ma’am?” he asked her, just because it might make their ultimate decision a little easier and somewhat more obvious, depending on her reply.
The nurse chuckled softly, standing up straight and checking that the tube was properly attached. “She’s been in a terrible coma for three and a half months; it’s a miracle she’s even mildly stirring this quickly. Who knows how long it will take before she’s as coherent as you need her to be?” she stood back and looked at the two men, tilting her head with mostly feigned cooperation. It didn’t seem right that they were showing up now, so very suddenly, while they could manipulate her into doing whatever they wanted her to do or say and put her through all sorts of stresses that would undoubtedly worsen her condition. Regardless of the trouble she was in, they could at the absolute least give her basic constitutional rights and treat her humanely. Yeah, she watched the shows about this kind of thing and, in spite of the difference between fiction and real life, she understood enough.
The second guy nodded slowly and looked up, listening to the person on the other line. “Yeah…Okay…I got it. Done and done. Later.” He folded the phone shut, slipping it into his pocket and heading over to the other two, though they were on the opposite side of the bed. “Well you were definitely right about that," he began, speaking directly to his partner and gesturing to him with a flick of his hand and wrist, raised eyebrows suggesting he couldn’t take the rather important and dire conversation – probably one-sided – as seriously as he really should have. “Fitzy said that Christian will have us dancing on the fucking fry pan if we fuck this up by giving her lawyers such a golden escape route on an otherwise open and shut case.” He smirked and shook his head, glancing over to Ashley, who stared blankly up at the ceiling, waving an arm over her face, damn near mocking her. Her glazed, half-open eyes didn’t follow it. “Damn all these crazy loop-holes, huh?”
His partner didn’t respond to the little joke, watching to see if she displayed any sign of lucidity to his vaguely insulting gesture. She didn’t. “Well then I guess that settles it, unless you think she might be ‘bout to come around in just a little while, because if that ain’t going to happen we really ought to be elsewhere.” The second of the two made a face and an accompanying noise as if to protest, but he didn’t argue. With one last look at her patient, she gave him a look which suggested the chances of that happening were indeed not very good, and so he nodded and once again shifted his gaze back to his somewhat disgruntled companion and placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to stand up. He didn’t appreciate his complete lack of manners. “Come on; she’ll still be here tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes and waved a hand, dismissing the comment, “I know. You and all this ‘constitutional’ mumbo-jumbo crap can kiss my ass.” The man grumbled, walking towards the door with great strides and pulling it open by the handle, casting one look back into the room, perhaps trying to be intimidating. “When we get back here tomorrow,” he wagged a firm, large finger in the direction of the nurse, “She had better fucking be awake, you know what I’m saying?” without actually waiting for a reply, he headed out into the hallway, almost bumping into Spencer, sneering at her like she didn’t have the right to stand there. “Watch it.” She scoffed at him and followed his storm off down the corridor with a fierce glare and her middle-finger, not honestly giving a damn if he could see her or not, in spite of the trouble it might create.
Did this mean she could finally go inside? That would certainly be nice. She thought she might forget what Ashley looked like, considering how long she had been unhappily waiting out there to no avail. And so she glanced around the corner, resting her arm on the doorframe, a bit wary of being pushed out again for no good reason. “I’m sorry about my partner, miss. He’s always like this; it’s nothing personal.” Apologised the first man, receiving a smile and a bow of the head from the older, petit woman in gratitude for the respectful show of common politeness, then he put his hat back onto his head and walked out, acknowledging Spencer as he passed her by with a nod. “Ma’am.” And he followed after his partner.
Once the men were gone, she stepped inside the small, bright room, somewhat uncertainly coming closer to the bed. If anything was wrong, she wasn’t confident she could cope with seeing it right in front of her, finding her girlfriend in a bad state when her future was what kept her motivated to persevere with a positive existence of her own. She was so damn scared of how she would find her, or what condition she would be in. The nurse glanced over in her direction but posed no resistance, averting her eyes once more when she saw an expression of the dearest caring and deepest flood of emotions and worried tears begin to sprout as Spencer finally saw Ashley for the first time in three weeks. This should be a private moment. It wasn’t appropriate to intrude.
She went to leave the two of them alone, but the blonde, refusing to even slightly deviate her intense gaze from Ashley’s beautiful, sleeping face, sort of as if she was stunned or frozen in time, stuck out her arm and effectively blocked the doorway with her body. For a moment, she feared this girl might become irrational and hold the blame for the arrival of those two men earlier on against her. It wouldn’t be the first time people got incredibly enraged with hospital staff for just doing their jobs. But she saw in her deep blue eyes that she couldn’t hurt a fly. Her soul was gentle and compassionate. She had that giving energy. “Is she okay?” asked Spencer with a quivering, entranced voice, because it was all she wanted to know and nobody had told her. Nobody ever told her. People had given her their diagnosis and their condolences and their outlook on how she may or may not recover, but they never directly told her, yes or no, if she was simply okay or not.
“Yes.” Said the staff member firmly, stating it as an unquestioned fact. “In all honesty, we’re pretty well sure she’s about to pull through.” She knew from the sound of her tear-filled intake of breath that Spencer was struck directly in her core by that short, basic statement, treasuring it like a resonant revelation and only a step away from being both immeasurably relieved and yet still lathered with trepidation to the point where she could scarcely move. Liquid pooled at the bottom of her eyes, but she was strong and held them back, refusing to cry. She never cried. If she started, she might never be able to stop. “Yours will be the first face she sees.” Her hand dropped from the side of the door, forming into a loose fist as those important, fantastic words only increased her intense need to be by her side again.
“Thank you.” Said Spencer, moving out of the doorway – allowing the nurse to make a hasty exit – and slowly drawing nearer to the side of her lover, her fingers softly brushing and lingering on the back of her chair while she stood next to it. Her sweet gaze revelled in the beautiful sight of her form and it seemed to take an eternity to let it all sink in. The machine right behind her beeped and buzzed without relent, defeating the silence and stillness. For quite a long time, she had wondered why Ashley got herself into these sad circumstances of calamity, more so convinced that somehow she should have seen this coming and stopped it, and even now she wished she had made different decisions. How could she not? To say she was happy with them would be a disgusting lie and, if the truth, make her a despicable human being. But the past was the past and, for the sake of everyone around her especially, she had to let it go. In time, she might be able to forgive and forget. All she could do now was remember their former love and try to convince herself that it didn’t mean valuing her life over those she’d ruined and...
With a forlorn sigh, she slumped down into her seat, resting her elbows on her knees and holding her head in her hands, staring ahead at her angelic features. Images flashed through her tired head of her family and her friends, all of whom she mourned to some extent, although it varied between specific individuals. She felt sympathy for all of them, because they definitely deserved it and it was due, but she also felt guilty. She felt guilty because she didn’t feel guilty for caring as unconditionally as she did for the girl who took everything away from them. It just didn’t make sense that she could do such things. Even though she knew the truth and had to live through the collateral damage from the terminal impact of the catastrophic events of that day, she still couldn’t honestly reconcile them or believe that they were fact, particularly when she saw her lying there so innocently, unable to defend herself or tell her story. She could never quite comprehend how someone she knew so well, her soulmate and the love of her life could be responsible for so much loss and misery.
It was true, though; it had all happened, and maybe she did deserve to face the consequences of her actions, after all the suffering that was left in her wake. It was like, as that day reached an end, every single life was put on hold and cut untimely short. As a punishment for her painfully wrong deeds, Ashley would almost certainly lose her future when she awoke, but so many others had already had their futures abruptly stolen from them, thanks to her mistakes, and hers was lost trying to pull as many as she could back together before they fell too far. Speaking of which, while she was here she’d have to visit the…Oh god. Her head slid lower, vanishing behind the mask of her palms, her hands covering her face as the greatest regret of all set in. Spencer couldn’t keep thinking about this. It hurt too much and she’d been over it a thousand times. She never reached a conclusion. All she knew was what they’d lost, and she just wanted something back. She wanted her lover back by her side to help keep her together. She didn’t want to be alone anymore while the problems of the world wore her down to nothing.
But it wasn’t that easy, and she knew it. No amount of soul-searching was going to get Ashley off the hook. It wouldn’t take away what she’d done. Nothing in heaven or in hell could do that; defy the one constant law of nature and reality and the world. With a dismal sigh, she looked up again, taking a trembling and slightly moving hand into her own, stroking the familiar soft skin with her thumb. “Why did you do it?” she whispered, lost in her own abandonment and futility. She didn’t have anybody to turn to or rely on but the memory of a girl she used to know, and she wanted her back. However, if she did return, she would be taken away. “How did you fall so far away from me?” Spencer went silent for a few seconds and then shook her head, confusing the face on the bed with the one in her mind. “Don’t look at me that way. You’re here by your own fault and you have to take responsibility for that…It’s beyond me, it’s beyond you; it’s the law.” She held her hand tighter, emphasising the final word with a forceful lean forward, as much as she wished this wasn’t true. Even though she couldn’t react and didn’t appear to hear a word she was saying, the blonde felt she owed her an explanation. It was only right that someone treat her fairly and let her understand. “…I couldn’t protect you from yourself, and I can’t save you from the future...I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do for you this time…”
Maybe, when she brought the news of her capture, it might give those who needed it so desperately a moment of happiness or a reason to feel a real emotion again, however small or brief. Not everybody was as lucky as the two of them were, and that was what she was now devoted to fixing, trying to erase the aftermath of everything she didn’t have the foresight to avoid to the best of her ability. Was she doing that thing where she judged the value of one life versus another again? Spencer still didn’t know what she wanted to happen or what outcome she thought was most fitting, and she couldn’t think about it any longer. All she could do was live in the moment and hope things didn’t get any worse.
Coming up next on Forget Me Not: Kelly passes the time with a leap of her newfound faith and faces the truth of reality and a solitary figure pays their respects. Then Ashley wakes up to a strange reality, confused and disoriented and barely lucid. How much does she know? What’s going to happen to her? Will the hopes of Spencer and Kelly be denied or met when she comes around? What did Ashley do? Keep reading; you might just find out in the next instalment of Forget Me Not.
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