Chapter 10 of Will I Wake
A/N: Another chapter coming at ya pookie =] sorry for it ending abruptly, my microsoft word ran out and i have to change to a different program. new chapter coming hopefully soon. italics are what Mark is sorta kinda hearing while he's half passed out. Oh, and before someone who thinks they're smart reviews and tells me that someone can't have a blood pressure reading of 51 over 37, don't bother. That was my blood pressure when I passed out =] *don't own "I just love you" by five for fighting, even if its only a couple lines*
"Mark! Can you hear…call 911!"
"No! Mark wake up! Please baby!"
"Mark Cohen? Come on we need you to wake up…"
"Age 14, male, Mark Cohen. Won't wake up…"
Voices faded…in and out, there was crying…I couldn't move or speak, I felt like I couldn't breathe…everything was a dark, fuzzy gray, I couldn't see, I could only hear. I could feel Roger dropping to his knees to hold me, and then it went black again. I woke up halfway in the ambulance, but still couldn't communicate with them. It was only when I was in the children's hospital emergency room that I groaned, awaking to blearily see Roger, Angel, and Collins standing there, looking frantic.
"He's awake!" An intake nurse called over to the desk. I guess they were still waiting for a room to put me in.
"Wha…wha's going on?" I slurred a bit, my mouth unable to completely form the words. "I'm…I'm tired," my words were broken up by a yawn.
The intake nurse, I didn't catch her name, came over, taking my blood pressure. "74 over 53, not good, but better than the 51 over 37 that it was before."
I wasn't really paying attention, I couldn't focus…I was so tired. I rolled onto my side, closing my eyes.
"No no no, Mark, you can't go to sleep…you have to stay awake, okay?" The nice nurse put a hand on my shoulder, patting it gently.
Tears came to my eyes. Why couldn't I sleep? I wanted to sleep…I wanna be at home, in bed. In Roger's bed, curled up against him. Wait…no…I couldn't, because I broke up with him….
"Put him in Room 6, Sheila," another nurse rushed past, and the nurse, whom I assumed was Sheila, nodded.
"Come on…here we go," she murmured, pushing my stretcher. She gestured Roger, Collins, and Angel to come with us, and they followed silently.
Sheila got me settled in the small room, pulling in extra chairs for everyone. "Your nurse and covering doctor should be in soon," she said with a small smile. Turning to the other three, she addressed them. "Try not to let him sleep…we need to make sure everything is okay first."
Angel, taking charge, nodded. "Of course," she settled on the side of my stretcher, stroking my hair back as Sheila left the room.
We sat there awkwardly, silently waiting. Roger stood back against the wall, watching me with fear in his eyes. Our heads all turned as one when the door slid open, and a gasp of shock when the nurse looked down at the chart and then at us.
Oh wow, that was ironic that Carrie ended up my nurse. She rushed over, and Angel walked over to Collins to give her room to look me over. "Sweetie, oh god…" She took my hand, leaning down and kissing my forehead.
Looking over my chart to see the intake, she raised her eyebrows. "Wow Mark…I think you gave them quite a scare in the ambulance. Your blood pressure went dangerously low…which is most likely why you couldn't wake up."
I nodded slowly, nervously.
"Alright honey…I'm just going to ask you three to step out for just a minute," she turned to the others, who nodded and stood outside the room. "I need you to put on a gown, okay Mark?"
"O-Okay," I stuttered. I tried to slip my shirt off, but my hands were shaking so much that I couldn't, and I looked helplessly, dejectedly at my hands.
"C'mere, I'll help you," she murmured, gently helping me undress right down to my boxers. Her face held a look of shock at my body. "Mark…"
"I know," I said hurriedly. "I told. It was him, all of it. You were right. I just got through most of the questioning with Collins at school."
"So stuff happened last night?"
I sighed, looking down. "Yeah. All of it."
"Did you shower afterwards?" Her face looked hopeful, and I smiled softly, proud of myself for not showering.
"No I thought…I thought that maybe that way there could be um…evidence."
"Good job Mark…I'm so proud of you," she hugged me gently, helping me put the cloth hospital gown on, and tying it in the back for me. "I'll have the doctor order a rape kit. And we'll clean up all those lacerations for you…the big one might possibly need stitches, I'll have to have the doctor take a look at it."
I nodded, hugging her back. Her embrace reminded me of the fact that I wasn't going to do that with Roger anymore…that made my stomach tie in knots, I wanted him to hold me right now…but I couldn't. I had to stay strong, for Roger.
After having me lie down on my back, she listened to my heart, and then had me roll onto my side so she could listen to my lungs, after that she checked for a fever.
Frowning, she wrote down the number in my chart. "You still have that fever Mark, have you felt sick?"
"Not really…just sick to my stomach, but that's normal for me," I rubbed my arm self-consciously, looking around the room.
"Okay. When was the last time you ate?"
I had to think about that. "Um…Friday maybe?" I blushed.
She furrowed her eyebrows. "Why haven't you been eating hun?"
I looked down. "Every time I eat I feel really sick, I don't know why," I mumbled. "And sometimes…a lot of times, I'm not allowed to eat at my dad's house."
She rubbed my back carefully. "We're going to help you Mark. We'll find a way to make it easier for you to eat, okay?"
I nodded. She stood, kissing the top of my head. "I'm going to go fill the doctor in; I'm not sure who it's going to be yet. Then we'll come in together, okay?"
"Okay Carrie," I murmured, and she left, sending everyone back in. I curled up on the stretcher, clutching the thin sheet around my trembling body.
Angel held onto my hand, rubbing it soothingly, trying to get me to stop shaking. "Angel?" I asked softly. "What's um, what's a rape kit?"
She sighed, kneeling beside the stretcher so we were eye-to-eye. "They're going to do one?" she asked hesitantly, and at my nod she continued. "Basically they are looking for evidence, and they'll see if they can match that to where it happened, and they'll test it for DNA and all of that. It's going to be scary Mark, but I promise you, it'll be over in no time."
I nervously accepted her answer. When my eyes searched the room, they stopped on Roger's form, in the corner, watching me worriedly. Our eyes locked, and I couldn't look away. Tears leaked out of my eyes, silently sliding down the side of my face and dripping onto the stretcher's white sheets.
Roger turned away, and when he tried to discreetly bring his hand to his face, I realized he was once again crying for me. I started to really cry now, harder than just a couple tears. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, trying to choke back the sobs.
Everything was really hitting me at once. The fact that I told on my dad, broke up with Roger, and ended up in the hospital was too much to deal with. I couldn't take my eyes off of Roger; I just wanted him so bad.
When Carrie re-entered the room, I was surprised to see her with Dr. Cameron. Carrie looked at both me and Roger, confused. Collins and Angel agreed to take Roger out to the waiting room, and they left with Collins' arm around Roger's shoulders.
"I would say it was good to see you again, but it really isn't," Dr Cameron said, trying to lighten the situation. "I've heard that you've had a long day Mark, so we're going to make this as easy as possible for you, okay?"
I nodded, hesitantly reaching for Carrie's hand. She smiled softly, apparently glad that I was making the initiative to ask for comfort, and squeezed my hand reassuringly.
They had me return to the position I had been in the last time I was here, on my side, with Carrie taking up position where Roger had been. She gently stroked my hair back, wiping away my tears and talking soothingly to me. I cried harder at the pain of the examination, shuddering and trembling. My breathing got shallow, and I felt like I could feel my father all over again and I was scared, so scared.
"No…no daddy no please don't…daddy no," I whimpered, it was like I was in the moment again. A shaky sob erupted from my chest, my eyes closed tightly. Carrie spoke louder, but I couldn't keep my focus on her, I swear it was like my father was right there in the room. My cries grew desperate, frantic, and I squirmed, trying to get away, but I couldn't. Some part of me that wasn't being acknowledged by the rest of my mind felt Carrie wrap strong arms around me, and that part of me struggled to break through. I buried my face in her scrub shirt, a muffled scream coming forth that I couldn't bite back.
"All done, all done," Dr Cameron finished as quickly as possible, covering me with a blanket and stepping away.
Carrie leaned over me, rolling me onto my back, and allowing me to clutch her with tight fists. My tearstained face held a look of innumerous pain, fear, and shame, and she held me close to her, rocking me slowly.
I sat up, letting Carrie hold me once she gathered me in her arms. She turned to Dr. Cameron, who was about to leave. "Can you sign me out on lunch break?"
"Of course Carrie. I'm going to talk to Dr. House, and we'll admit him…it'll be easier and less hectic that way," she said as she strode out of the room.
"Mark honey, you've been so brave," she praised me softly. I rested my head against her shoulder, wishing Roger was here. My chest convulsed, a silent, dry sob coming over me.
She rubbed my arm, speaking soothingly. "Do you want me to get Roger?"
I bit my lip, tears invading my eyes. "I...I, uh, I broke up with him earlier," I whispered, hoping she wouldn't be mad at me.
"Oh Mark…why? Did something happen?" She looked so concerned, and it reminded me so much of Roger that it made my belly ache.
"He…he shouldn't have to put up with all my problems, he deserves better," I dejectedly told her.
She turned to face me, making sure I was looking her in the eye. "Mark. Sure, a lot of stuff has been difficult in your life. But if being with Roger helps you, and makes the both of you happy, then don't you think that takes priority? I know for a fact that Roger loves you so much. You are all he talks about Mark," she reinforced this, cupping my cheek. "And you make him happy, he is happier now than I have ever seen him in his life," she ended in a whisper.
A few tears were trailing down my cheeks at this point. I sniffled. "I want him," I said through a muffled sob, hugging my knees to my chest. "I love him."
She nodded. "I know you do sweetie. I'm going to go get him." She ruffled my hair gently before leaving the room, soon returning with Roger in tow.
I was in the same position as when she left, blankets wrapped around me, huddled against the wall. I couldn't speak, I was still crying too much, so instead of offering a verbal explanation, I just reached my arms out to him, knowing how vulnerable it made me look, and feel.
He gathered me up, my lanky body having no trouble fitting in his lap, with my too long arms locked around his neck. I shivered violently, sobbing into the crook of his neck.
When Dr. Cameron came in, she and Carrie spoke quietly, working out some of the minor details of what would ensue. Carrie smiled reassuringly at me when they were done talking.
"I've got some good news Mark, Dr. Cameron and I will be switching up to the inpatient ward upstairs, so I'll still be your nurse and she will still be your doctor. They've got a room ready for you, so I'm going to bring you up there. Collins and Angel said to tell you good luck, and they hope you feel better," she said all this quickly, while the doctor brought in a wheelchair.
As Roger helped me up, I couldn't stop shivering, it was very cold in just the gown. He helped me to fold myself up in it, and when I sat in the wheelchair, I brought my legs up so they would be covered too.
Carrie unlocked the wheels, and started rolling the chair out of the room. I reached my hand up for Roger's, feeling quite awkward. I didn't feel like I needed to be in a wheelchair. Everyone kept looking at me, making me blush badly. I was relieved when we finally made it up to what would be my room. It had two empty beds in it, so I assumed there was a possibility of me getting a roommate.
Roger's mom let me choose which bed I wanted, and I chose the one next to the window. It wasn't a great view, just a view over the city, but it was better than nothing, and the sunlight was nice. I sat on the bed, and Carrie went to take the wheelchair away, giving me and Roger some time to talk.
Knowing I would be more comfortable if he was holding me, he laid on his back in the bed, gently pulling me on top of him. I complied, contentedly resting my cheek over his heart and sighing softly. He hooked his arms around my hips, so that they were interlocked above my butt. I had to blush, but I really didn't care. This was Roger, and as I've said before…if it was anyone else, there was no way I would be able to handle it. But I liked this.
"I'm sorry," I apologized softly. "I didn't…didn't want to break up with you, really, but…I guess I was just scared that I was pulling you down with me. I just want what's best for you…I guess that's not my decision to make though," I thought out loud. "Would you still…um, would you still want to you know, go out?"
He nodded immediately. "Yes, of course I do…I understand what you mean, but the best thing for me will always be anything that involves being with you."
His answer was so sweet, it made me smile, in spite of the fact that I thought I would never smile again. I turned my head a bit so that I could press my lips to his chest. After a moment of lying like that, I rolled off of him regretfully, but I didn't want someone to walk in and have it be awkward. I sat cross-legged with a blanket covering my lap, facing Roger. He took my hands, just holding them, playing with my fingers absentmindedly, and making me giggle very softly.
I winced slightly; my stomach was hurting so much. Roger asked me what was wrong, and when I passed it off as just being a nervous stomach, he pulled me into his lap so that my back was against his chest, and he rubbed my stomach, singing softly to me. "I…I just love you," he sang softly. "I don't know why, I just do," his voice was smooth, like velvet, making me close my eyes, soaking it in.
My eyes flew open when I heard voices entering the room. Carrie, Dr. Cameron, and Dr. House walked quickly in. I regarded them with weary eyes, following their every move, especially Dr. House. I wasn't about to let him humiliate me again.
He stared back at me, narrowing his eyes. "I need everyone but Mark out. Now." He stated this so matter-of-factly that it made me sick. He shouldn't have this supreme power over everyone. Nevertheless, they heeded his instructions, until it was just me and him.
"I want Roger in here," I shyly, yet boldly stated.
"Tough. Life's not fair," he sneered, popping a couple pills as if to prove it.
Oh hell, no he didn't. That was it.
"Don't give me any of that 'life's not fair' bullshit!" I blew up, my face incredulous. "Don't you think I fucking know that? Since even before I can remember, I've had to be afraid of my own father. I've had to wonder about the next time that he would rape me or beat me, or even the next time I would be allowed to eat. Obviously I know that life is not fair! How could you even fucking dare to come in here, and not allow me the one person that has kept me sane all these years? It's not fair, you asshole! That's my boyfriend, and if I say I want him in here then he is going to be in here!"
I was crying by this point, heart wrenching sobs racking my chest. I figured that the others must have heard my outburst, because they came in swiftly, Roger going to my side and holding me against him, having to pin my arms between his chest and mine because I was clawing so badly at my arms. I didn't even realize I was doing it, but the need to cut was unbearable. Dr. Cameron forced the crippled doctor out of the room, and Carrie shut the door behind them.
Slowly but surely I started to calm down, only because of Roger's arms holding me so tightly. He wrapped the blankets around me, swaddling me, doing everything he could to keep my focus on him. He laid me down on my back, and he crawled on top of me on all fours, leaning down to peck my lips lovingly again and again. Carefully, he settled some of his weight on me, which helped immensely…it didn't hurt at all, and it was comforting to have his body on mine like this, where I was protected. I was able to stop crying, my breathing becoming less ragged and more even, deeper.
I put my face directly into his neck, resting my lips against his skin. He smelled so good, so warm, so safe. I loved these moments, spent so close with Roger, even if they were only the result of something bad.
"Are you going to be okay baby?" he stroked my hair back, smoothing it away from my face.
I nodded, pulling back so that I could look him in the eyes. I drowned in those emerald green eyes, and managed a small smile. "Now I am," I whispered, aware of nothing but Roger. All I could feel was Roger's weight, his warmth, his love and affection, the way he held me and touched me with kind words and kisses.
The spell was broken when Carrie and Dr. Cameron reentered the room, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Roger moved to roll off of me, but I grabbed onto his hips. Sure it might be a bit awkward with the others in here, but I really didn't want this moment to end. Plus, I was pretty sure that Roger's body against mine was the only thing keeping me from crying again.
"I really am so sorry…I gave him a bit of an earful out there," she said, with a grim smile. "He said he was going to talk to you about stuff, about your, um, self mutilation."
I raised an eyebrow. I had heard the word before, of course, it just…sounded so harsh.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to let him, I'll do it instead. First though, I'm going to get some blood work done and insert an IV, to get some fluids into you," she explained all this while Carrie set up what she would need on the bedside. At this point, Roger had to move, but he was still next to me, an arm slung over my waist and his head on my stomach. I nervously began to pet his hair, nodding to what the doctor was saying.
Carrie smiled apologetically. "Just going to be a little pinch Mark, I'll go as quickly as possible." She felt for a vein in my arm. "I'm going to do the IV and take the blood from there, so it will hopefully be only one stick." She seemed to find one in my inner elbow, wiping the area with an alcohol swab. I shivered slightly, and Roger rubbed my hip gently, murmuring to me. I looked away as she prepared the needle, focusing on Roger's golden brown hair.
"One…two…three," Carrie said softly, and she swiftly entered the vein, making me wince only slightly. She made a noise of triumph after a moment. "Got it," she informed me, sliding the needle part out and leaving just the tube behind. She took a few vials of blood before flushing the port and taping it down to my skin.
I watched as she expertly attached it to a bag of a potassium cocktail of fluids, which was hung on a pole.
I tangled my fingers in Roger's bronze colored mane. He looked up at me with a loving gaze, his eyes closing softly as I dusted my fingers over his face. His skin was so smooth, so soft.
I took in a small breath in when I felt Roger's fingertips on my waist. Of course, it was over the hospital gown, but still…Roger was amazing.
The doctor came to my side, leaning down slightly. "Mark…how are you feeling?" she asked hesitantly.
I looked away, shrugging shyly. Why was everything I was doing shy?
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Is there anything I can get you?"
Turning to Roger, I couldn't help but imagine a thousand things. A blade. A million Rogers. A new life. A way to end my life. "Um, could I maybe have some paper and pens?"
With a thin lipped smile, she nodded. "Of course," she patted my arm softly before leaving the room to get me some paper.
Carrie looked between me and Roger, and with a look from her son, she nodded and went to stand outside. I sat up on the edge of the bed, putting my head in my hands and clenching my hair.
"I can't fucking do this," I ground out, seething. I felt Roger's hand brush over my clearly visible spine, his fingers tracing each rib, each bump.
"Why don't you think you can do this?" his voice isn't analytical like some people's voices when they ask questions like that. He kneeled behind me, pulling off his sweater so that only a muscle shirt covered his torso. He snaked his arms underneath the hospital gown, hugging me around the waist. Oh god, this skin against skin…his hands rubbed my belly, the warmth spreading from his hands to my skin made me want to cry.
"Because I can't," I sniffled softly, trying not to cry. "It's too hard."
"You're right," Roger said, surprising me greatly. His voice was strong; in any other context it would have been fierce, almost scary in a way. "It's going to be hell, from what I can tell. It is going to suck, but you know what? You're wrong about one thing. You can do this. And when it gets too hard, and you're falling, you don't have to worry because I'll be there to catch you before you can hit the ground."
I pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes, seeing stars and hoping things would be clearer when my vision stopped blurring. I just shook my head slowly, bringing my knees up to my chin. I hugged my legs tightly against my body, and Roger gasped softly.
"What?" I asked irritably.
"God Mark…when did you get so skinny?" his voice was halting, looking between my body and my eyes.
I sneered. "You think this is skinny?"
Roger didn't respond to my comment. "Hold out your arm."
I suspiciously did as I was told, watching his every move as he held my wrist in one hand, holding my arm straight. With the other hand, he linked his thumb and forefinger easily over my wrist. He slid his hand upwards, his fingers never parting each other. He got almost to my elbow, and looked up at me, his eyes scared.
"Mark…" he began cautiously, watching me with caring eyes. I determinedly looked away. "D-Do you…do you have um, an…an eating disorder?" his voice was uncertain what to think.
"No!" I answered almost too quickly. "Of course not."
Roger's face looked pained. "Mark don't lie to me!" he said earnestly, his voice yearning.
When I heard voices about to enter the room, I turned to Roger. "Just drop it for now, okay?"
He reluctantly nodded, returning to our earlier position so that I was in his arms.
I furrowed my eyebrows at the sound coming from outside my room…someone was crying. In less than an instant, my mother flew into the room, Carrie and Dr. Cameron right behind her.
"Corinne, please stay calm, okay?" Carrie grabbed my mother's shoulder, but my mom yanked away, running to me
"Oh Mark, oh my baby," she sobbed, ripping me from Roger's embrace. She grasped me tightly, but I was scared and shrunk away, pressing myself close to Roger.
She looked offended, but seeing her tears made me cry as well. I tucked my heads under Roger's chin, sniffling slightly.
"Mark sweetie, why didn't you tell me?" She grabbed roughly at my hand. I had to look away, I felt bad but she just wouldn't shut up.
I sighed, irritated. Why was she being so nice all of a sudden when she's been all mad at me for the past few weeks? "I don't know," I muttered, "I couldn't."
Roger looked at his mom, who shrugged. She didn't know what to do; obviously my mother had a right to see me.