dreams and hearts

"There are so many fragile things, after all. People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts."
- Neil Gaiman, Fragile things. (Book)

This first chapter's very long-winded, I know. Sorry, I'm a bit rusty at setting up for multichapters.

Robert Trevanion's room was completely ransacked. A thick layer of clothes covered the floor inch-by-inch, and packets of food lay forgotten beneath the bed. All the drawers were opened, clothes and DVD's had been thrown from them amidst the search, tossed aside like they meant nothing. There was even a smart tie he never wore hanging from the ceiling light, and one of his black converse had slid beneath his wardrobe. Danny sighed and sat beside his eighteen year old son on the bed, ruffled his hair lightly and nudged his shoulder. He'd always been useless at this- dealing with his son after another episode. With a huge pang, he thinks of how Alice would've been able to do this. Look after their son, make him feel better, understand the mind that was not like any of theirs.

"Hey, what'd you go and do that for, eh?" Danny asked quietly, and Robert avoided his eyes, instead scuffed his shoes on the floor.

"Because I'm useless. You all hate me because I'm not normal. But that's okay, Dad, because I hate me too." Robert admitted quietly, and fell back onto his bed with a loud sigh.

Danny swallowed and ignored any tears he felt in his eyes. "Son, you don't mean that. Of course you don't." He insisted, but really when these depressed episodes came along he couldn't get through to him. Nobody could. Alice would've,a voice in the back of his head screams, but he pushes them away. "We don't hate you. We love you, Robbie, so much more than I could ever explain."

"Not as much as you loved Mum." Robert stated emotionally, like it was another fact of life that didn't effect him all to much.

Again, Danny swallowed, this was too much to handle. Robert was too hard to handle. It wasn't his fault- but he was. It didn't make Danny love him any less, he was still his son and when he was happy he was the greatest young man Danny knew. However when he got like this Danny often wanted to push him away, lock himself away somewhere Robert wasn't and refuse to acknowledge him. Because he always said things that hurt him so much, and after dealing with it for the past four years Danny was so tired.

Four years ago, Robert had tried to throw himself off one of the cliffs of Leopards Den, and when he had been rescued he'd spent two weeks holed up in his room barely refusing to accept any food and did not utter any other words than "I hate myself. I hate my life. Make it all stop Dad, please.". The doctors had been quick to diagnose him with Bipolar II disorder. Of course, there had been signs before, but they'd simply thought he was a bit of an excited boy. Sometimes he spoke to quick, managed to be hyper even though he'd had a total of 3 hours sleep, and would often have trouble concentrating. But since he'd been diagnosed they'd recognised those signs as weaker symptoms of mania in bipolar disorder. Immediately, treatment had started with Robert, and he'd started to balance out- the talks with the psychiatrist helped him as well as the medication. But out of the blue, two days before his sixteenth birthday, he'd started to refuse treatment. They, obviously, couldn't force his pills upon him and force him to speak to the psychiatrist, so hesitantly had to accept he wouldn't have treatment anymore. Unfortunately, untreated bipolar disease made the disease grow worse, and the manic or depressive episodes grew more frequent.

"Robert." Danny rasped, even though his throat ached. "You know that's not true."

"Go away, Dad. I want to be alone." Robert ordered.

"But Robbie, you know it's best-"

"I said leave me aloneDad!" Robert screamed, azure eyes the copy of his mothers malicious, and then turned to his front and buried his face in his pillow. After a few seconds, his body started jerking, and Danny could hear him sobbing, though it was slightly muffled due to the pillow.

However he didn't leave, instead chose to lay beside his son and hold him close, while trying to fight the memories away of that day. Oh, that day- the day his life turned upside down.

Eighteen years earlier.

He'd never witnessed a childbirth before. Miranda had insisted that he'd be out of the room when Rosie was born, and unfortunately since it was "her body" he'd had no choice, even though it was their daughter- not just hers.

To be honest, he was rather glad he'd never have to see it again. Alice was constantly squeezing his hand to the point he thought that his hand was going to break, and her screams were causing his ears to bleed. He knew it wasn't her fault, she was in pain herself, but it made him feel useless. A midwifes head kept popping up from where it disappeared and telling Alice she was doing great, that the baby was almost there. Machines beeped and others encouraged Alice every time another contraction came along and pain would distort her beautiful face.

Robert Trevanion was born at three past four in the morning in England. Alice had almost been on the point of giving up, exhausted and in pain. He'd pressed a kiss to her head and told her he was so, so proud- and then, well, she gripped his hand a little tighter and then there was their baby.

He'd been so small and innocent then, completely untouched and pure and normal. He'd been born with wispy black hair and Alice's eyes, though he was a lanky thing and Danny really couldn't blame Alice for being so annoyed with the size of him. They'd allowed him to cut the umbilical cord, and had handed him straight over to Alice, even though he was still screaming at the top of his lungs, and all sticky with red blood.

Alice had smiled. A huge, genuine smile that had light up her face, caused her blue eyes to sparkle and tears to leak down her cheeks. She'd cooed at him, stroked the hair on his head, and whispered, "Look at him, Danny. He's so beautiful."

"I know." Danny had replied softly, and bent down to press a kiss to his newborn sons forehead.

"Robert." She murmured, "We'll call him Robert after his Granddad, eh?"

Before he'd had chance to reply, Alice had gasped slightly, and immeadiately nurses had taken his baby away and were pushing him back, telling him to stand away. Danny had watched, lost, as Alice had started crying again, and the nurses shouted in medical language he didn't really understand, though he thought he recognised some words. Machines had bleeped loudly, doctors had rushed into the room and eventually he'd been forced to stand outside the room. Before he'd left, he was sure he caught the sight of Alice seizuring.

Two hours. He spent that pacing the halls, drinking rubbish tasting tea and visiting Robert in the room he'd been placed in. Robert had fallen into what looked like an unpeaceful sleep during all this, now nice and dry and clean, and Danny had kissed his tiny forehead several times when he'd visited him and assured him his Mum would be okay.

Eventually, a doctor found him leaving Roberts room, and had taken him back to Alice's room. As Danny had sat beside her and pressed a kiss to her unconsious form, the doctor explained that she'd suffered from Eclampsia. They hadn't seen it, and he was very sorry, and he wished that he could've prevented this. But she'd wound up seizuring and this had caused her blood pressure to rocket sky high, and it had been a tough struggle to keep her alive. However, she'd fallen into a coma. They didn't know what her chances were of waking up.

Danny couldn't think. Could barely breathe. All this for their child? How could a delivery cause this? And how was he expected to look after Robert and tell everyone everything was okay, even though he'd no idea when she would wake up? Ifshe'd wake up...

So he told the others that Robert had been born, and had been unable to hide the truth and told Caroline on the phone everything that had happened, though had made her promise that she wouldn't tell Charlotte. Charlotte had been put on the phone and had told him she demanded a picture of her little brother, and she couldn't wait to come visit them over in England since Robert obviously wasn't old enough to fly. Danny's heart had broken at that, how was he supposed to tell Charlotte there was a chance that her Mum might not ever be alive again?

"I won't give up on you." Danny whispered into her hand one night, gripping it tightly. She'd been in a coma for two weeks now, and Charlotte was starting to grow suspicious as to why she couldn't come to England. "I promise, Alice, I will not give up on you. I'm always gonna be here and soon you'll just open those beautiful eyes of yours and we'll go back home with Robert and be so, so happy. Okay? I love you, Alice."

There had been no reply.

"Danny, you're going to have to tell her." Rosie had told him sadly over the phone that same night, and Danny sighed, kicking a stone as he stood outside the hospital.

"I know, Rosie, but... How?" Danny had asked, and rain poured down on him.

"I don't know." Rosie admitted softly.

Two nights later, Charlotte and Rosie had arrived in England on a plane. Danny had met them at the airport and drove them back to Georgina's house, where they had been staying in England. Charlotte had ran straight to Robert who was laid out on a play mat, which he and Alice had bought a 2 months ago, in one of the front rooms. She cooed over him and said Hello. Introduced herself to him. For ten minutes at maximum, she'd been completely distracted by Robert. Until she noticed their tension, their silence, and looked up with a frown. The inevitable question tumbled into the air:

"Where's my Mum?"