Author´s note: I don´t know if I will ever be able to finish this story, because there are many chapters to write, but I started and I decided to publish, does not cost anything, does it? Every chapter is in the point of view of an other Baker.
Warnings: I would say it should be rated T, I think this story can be read by 13 years old. But there are mentioned things like suicide attempt and perhaps some mentions of loving actions, so I am not sure with the rating now. Remember this. Rating could be changed.
Disclaimer: I do not own Cheaper by the dozen, but the ideas in this story, they are mine.
Summery: After an accident that left Charlie in a coma, the Baker family is broken and their lifes are ripped apart. A lot of bad things happened to them and now they don´t know how to face it all. What´s going on with everyone and how they deal with their problems ist told here.
Little note at the end: English is not my native language. If you see any mistakes, please tell me, I will correct them, but I try to do as less mistakes as I can. Don´t be so upset if there are mistakes, please.
I don´t wanna wake up today
´cuz every day´s the same
and I´ve been waited so long
For things to change
(Simple Plan – Jump)
Old man is visiting dead men´s places (Tom´s PoV)
A father should have to do something else on a saturday afternoon. Not hanging around in a big, white-coloured hospital to visit two of his sons.
I looked at my watch. It was two thirty p.m.. I breathed deeply while the lift stopped at the floor where the ICU was. I walked straight to room number twelve, giving a short look at the lady behind the reception desk, so she could recognize my face and entered the room.
Kate, my wife, always said, that twelve is our number. It always was. So no way, my first born son Charlie laid in that room.
I entered the room quietly, also I didn´t know why. He wouldn´t hear me if I would come in with a horde of elephants.
I went to his bed and watched him carefully. He looked totally like he would be asleep, or, if I wouldn´t know it better, as if he would be dead, except for the numbers of machines, controlling his breath, watching his heart´s work.
He was in coma for almost a year now. A car hit him badly.
I sat down at my normal place and took his cold hand. The doctors didn´t know if he will ever wake up. I saw in their eyes when I talked to them, that they did not believe that he will come back.
But if I stopped to believe, I think he really could die.
Eleven month ago, the accident happened. I wasn´t there. I was with Kim and Jessica on this science competition. But they didn´t won. The first time they didn´t won, just because before they were able to, Kate called me and told me what happened and we went home.
We waited half a day before the doctors told us that Charlie lied in a coma, and they couldn´t tell when and if he would wake up.
None of my children was seriously hurt before. Jake broke some of his bones while skating and Mike felt down from the lamp in the hall while he swung on it and broke his arm, but that was all.
We were very lucky before.
I would have bet that nothing could change so soon so strong like it does during the last few month, but it did.
I would´ve like to tell Charlie something, but I didn´t really know something happy and I didn´t want to tell him all the other things, perhaps he didn´t want come back if he hears.
"That´s stupid, dad", Sarah´s told me, "he won´t realize. He´s in coma. Go talking to Jake. Charlie won´t be able to listen."
But I think that Charlie really listened better then Jake did. But I also had to visit Jake, also perhaps it would made me worse to see him as to see Charlie.
No parents should go through such hard times. It hurts a lot.
"So little Tom is getting taller every time I see him", I told Charlie. "you would be very proud of your nephew."
That was all I could say. I didn´t want to tell him all the other things. The things that went wrong, the things I would like to forget.
I sat a long time there, watched Charlie not moving.
My heart told me to go away, because seeing him like this hurts too much, but my brain knew what comes when I got out of this room. Than I have to see Jake.
"Do you know, I do really good in my job now", I told Charlie like I always did.
He´s my eldest son. He had a sister, Nora, which was older than him, four years older.
She was twenty-six. She was great, she had a husband and a son, named after me, and she was pregnant with another child.
She got through it all.
I would´ve liked to say that it´s just another day, when I got up an hour later, took my jacket and went out of the room.
I went to visit Jake. He´s been here for almost a month. In the psychiatric department.
No one knew when he would be able to get out.
Like I would never forget the day of Charlie´s accident, I would never forget the day, I found Jake, my sixth child of twelve a month ago, covered with blood, almost dead. He wanted to kill himself.
It wasn´t the first time. A week before he took too much of his medicine and ended up in hospital.
We all didn´t think that he wanted to kill himself this day. We thought it was an accident. But then I found him, laying still on the floor of the bathroom.
I entered the station. I looked for Dr. Miller, Jakes psychiatrist, to ask him how Jake was.
Dr. Miller was a young man in the thirties.
I found him standing at the wall, talking to Betty, a nurse. He recognized me and came over.
"Hello, Mr. Baker."
"Hello, Dr. Miller."
"So, how´s Charlie doing?", he asked me.
"Still the same. How´s Jake?"
I didn´t really expect another answer.
"So I can visit him?"
I nodded. When I wanted to walk to Jakes room, Dr. Miller asked me back.
"Mr. Baker. Look, I´m really worried about Jake. He´s here for almost a month and his conditions didn´t really change. I wondered if I should give him some other anti-depressive, but I decided that it would not be the right way."
"Okay", was everything I could say.
Than I went to see Jake.
He was sitting on one of the chairs standing at the small table at one side of the room, watching out of the window. There just were a bed and a wardrobe more in this room.
"Hi Dad." Just his emotionless voice made my heart sink.
I went over to him, rested a short moment at his side to stroke his head with one hand, but he winced barely noticeable and turned his head slightly away.
I sat down on the other chair at the other side of the table.
"How are you?", I asked him.
"The doctor already asked me that earlier the day." I think he really knew that this wasn´t an answer to my question. I think that was exactly the reason why he said.
"And what you´ve told him?"
"That he has to give a shit for that."
"And I? I am your dad."
He didn´t answer. He didn´t look in my eyes. But I saw his eyes. Just as emotionless as his voice.
He stood up, went over to his bed and sat down there.
"I had to draw a picture. I mean, what´s that? I am sixteen! I don´t draw little pictures that show my fucking (sorry for language) emotion."
I followed him to his bed and asked him, what he´d drawn.
"Who´s interested in that? When I draw a picture with people covered with blood, people think I´m crazy, when I draw a picture of my family being very happy, this man interprets my wishes, if I draw everything like it really is, he says I´m afraid or sad or something! I also could draw him being a hanged man."
"He just wants to help you. He wants to know why you tried to kill yourself for knowing how he can help you."
"I´ve already told him why I want to be dead. I don´t want to feel the pain anymore. I want to be free. But as we saw, I am not allowed to feel well, because it didn´t went."
I had never felt so helpless.
Two of my sons needed my help. And I didn´t know what to do.
Reviews would be nice.