banner by dawnofmeChapter One
St David’s Hospital, LA
The nurses worked efficiently and in almost total silence, only the slap of their white shoes giving them away. Their quietness was in deference to the seriously ill or injured patients they tended. The patients themselves were either asleep or unconscious, the occasional moan sounding loud in the night.
All the patients had charts at the bottom of their beds, giving their details and indicating when next medicines could be given. All except one………
A pretty nurse, dark haired and slim, went over to check the patient in the last bed on the right, the furthest from the door to the ward. She picked up the chart with ‘John Doe’ written boldly across the top. She checked the time with the watch pinned to the front of her uniform and went to adjust the flow of the intravenous drip, currently the sole source of sustenance for the bed’s occupant.
The patient didn’t stir, the readouts on the monitors next to the bed giving the only indication of life. His face was deathly pale but looked almost serene as he lay there. He has been there for the past three months, ever since the night of that amazing storm. Chaos had reigned that night and many people paid the price - some were still paying.
“Who are you?” wondered the nurse, not for the first time.
“Why does no one miss you? Surely they would have checked the hospitals and even with the problems with communications that that night caused, three months is way too long for them not to have found you.”
She lingered by the bed, reluctant to leave although he wasn’t aware she was there. There’d been no change in him since he was brought in. The wounds and bones had healed, stitches long since removed, but his level of consciousness hadn’t altered. He was in a deep coma. The longer it went on, the less likely recovery was.
She reached out and touched the scar running in a line from his hairline down his forehead to his left eyebrow, slightly puckering the lid of his left eye. The scar would be permanent, although not as livid as it once was. It would always be there to remind him of that fateful night should he ever awaken from his self-induced sleep.
“The brain’s way of giving itself chance to heal” the doctor had said in response to the nurse’s questions. Questions she felt she had to ask since he had no one else to ask them.
She was drawn to this silent man, intrigued about his life, wondering what had led him to get caught up in the devastation that was caused in that part of LA.
She remembered the first time she’d seen him. All off duty nurses and doctors were called in after the offices of the giant law firm Wolfram & Hart had been reduced to rubble along with a couple of blocks on either side of it. No one really knew what happened to cause such an explosion. The storm that raged? Terrorists? Neither had been ruled out. Even the survivors of the law firm didn’t seem to care, they just left town saying there were no plans to rebuild. But for the torrential rain helping fire fighters put out the blazes, half of Los Angeles would probably have been wiped out.
He’d been found in an alley not far from the centre of the explosion, half buried under rubble. His rescuers expected it to be another body to add to their grim tally. In fact he technically was dead on arrival at the hospital. The nurse’s first glimpse of him was as he was wheeled through to the ER with a team of paramedics working on him. She’d been called away from a family get-together as she was part of the external disaster team. She’d raced after them, taking over pumping his chest to try to get his heart to beat. His blood was everywhere. At the time it was difficult to tell where he was hurt, apart from the head wound which gaped open, the bone beneath shining white through all the gore.
The team of medics threw everything they had at him in their attempts to revive him, determined not to let another fall victim to that night. The nurse was exhausted and the doctor was just saying that they’d better stop, that it was hopeless, when it happened. A beep, then two, then the regular rhythm of a beating heart was shown on the screen. The line rose and fell to the sound of a series of beeps, one of the best sounds an Emergency Room team can hear. Then there was a gasp from the patient as his breathing started again. Instead of calling his time of death, the doctor called for him to be rushed into the OR to be operated on. The head wound took priority over his other injuries which included a badly broken left leg and arm, most likely occurring when the building collapsed into the alley
ooooooooooo
“Helen!” the name rang out shrill across the silent ward.
The nurse jumped, startled out of her reverie, guiltily looking over to the woman who called her.
“Are you going to stand there all night? There are others in need of your attention.”
Helen sighed and gave a last glance towards the recumbent man, lightly stroking his arm.
“I’ll stop by again later, after my shift” she whispered as she left his side to continue her rounds.
oooooooooooo
Watchers Council Apartment, London
Giles replaced the telephone to its cradle and put his glasses down on the table beside it. He wearily ran a hand over his face. It’d been a long day, to be more accurate it’d been a long few months. He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt so tired. Even the battle with The First hadn’t left him so drained. Maybe that was because he hadn’t been feeling so much guilt then.
He recalled the conversation he’d just had with Buffy. As usual his Slayer (he still thought of her in those terms despite the fact that there were now many chosen, not just one ,and the fact he hadn’t been her Watcher for a long time) was expecting him to work miracles.
“What do you mean you have no news? How can there STILL be no news? Are you even trying to find out?” she’d shouted.
That had stung him. That was where the guilt kicked in, ensuring his sleep would once again be riddled with nightmares.
When Angel had called asking for help, he’d refused. He refused to let Willow help and he refused to contact Buffy. He did this because of the involvement of Wolfram & Hart.. As far as he was concerned once Angel had crossed the threshold of that evil law firm he was on his own. Andrew’s experience with Angel when locating the deranged slayer Dana, did not convince Giles that Angel was still on the side of the hopeless and the good. He may not have reverted to being Angelus but no way could that place fail to corrupt. But it looked like he’d been wrong, seriously wrong. Like the time he’d conspired with Robin Wood to kill Spike. A plot that if it’d been successful would have probably meant the end of the world since, without Spike to bear the amulet, the battle would have been lost. As it was, the power of the ensouled vampire and the amulet destroyed the Hellmouth and destroyed The First.
So far he’d found no trace of Angel and his team. The team was made up of two humans, Wesley Wyndham-Price and Charles Gunn, Spike, who’d somehow been transported back to Angel within the amulet he’d worn as he died in the Hellmouth, first as a ghost then one day mysteriously being made corporeal again, Lorne, an empath demon from Pylea and Illyria, an ancient god. He had, however, found indications that they’d brought down Wolfram & Hart – well, the LA branch, anyway.
He also felt guilt at the secret he and Andrew had kept from the others - that of Spike being alive - but Andrew had insisted Spike wanted it that way. He’d said he’d get around to telling them all in his own time and in his own way. Only now he never could.
There was nothing else he could do from London so Giles decided to fly to LA to see if he could get more, well any, answers over there. Giles picked up the phone again and dialled the number from memory. Willow answered on the third ring.
“Giles!” the delight in her voice carried down the line, which was as clear as if she were just around the corner rather than halfway around the world.
“What’s up? You just caught me. I’m heading out to meet with a local coven and find out any gossip.”
“ Erm, well, I called to ask a favour, Willow. Could you possibly come to London and oversee things whilst Andrew and I go over to LA to see if we have any more success in getting to the bottom of what’s happened to everyone over there? I hate to ask…..
“Of course I will,” interrupted Willow, “ There’s nothing much to keep to here. Things pretty well run themselves now. Plus Kennedy is still working here and can take over.”
Giles heard her voice break a little over her ex-lover’s name. Although they’d somehow managed to remain friends once they’d parted, it wasn’t easy working so closely together.
“That’s excellent. Thank you, Willow. Come as soon as you can.”
“How’s Buffy?” Willow asked the question he’d been dreading.
“Not doing so well,” Giles replied, “You know how she hates not knowing. She likes to have answers. I really feel I’ve let her down.”
“No way Jose,” retorted Willow, “You weren’t to know what Angel was up to. He was never the most forthcoming of vampires, was he? I’ll be on the first flight I can. Don’t worry about Buffy, she’ll come round. You’re her rock. She just gets all antsy when you can’t tell her what happened or what she should do. The blow of losing Angel after seeing Spike burn in the Hellmouth is making her super cranky.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up.
Andrew walked into the room. Giles was slumped in the armchair cleaning his glasses furiously - a pointless gesture since Andrew had never seen so much as a mote of dust on them. It was Giles’ habit when things were getting bit too much for him.
“Come on, Giles, you need some rest.” Andrew gently led him from the room, proud to be taking care of him rather than the other way round, which was more usual.
“But there’s so much to do….”
“And it can be done in the morning,” countered Andrew, “I’ll book the flights for next week so we can get everything organised, then we’ll see what we find in LA”
ooooooooo
St David’s Hospital LA
The dark was absolute. Not a flicker or hint of light anywhere. But something was changing…….no outward signs changed but in the unidentified patient something stirred.
“Still no change,” said the doctor as he examined the John Doe, lifting his eyelids and shining the beam of his torch across the eyes. “I’m starting to fear he’s not going to regain consciousness at all.”
Helen looked at the doctor in dismay.
“Is there nothing else we can do?”
“We’ve done all we can, but his heart was stopped for a long time. Who knows what damage that did. It’s a shame no one has come forward for him. Perhaps he has nothing to live for, or no one to live for.”
“Will it help if I sit with him?” asked Helen, “when I’m off duty,” she quickly added as the doctor gave her an odd look.
“It won’t do any harm but haven’t you got better things to do when your shifts finish than sit with an unresponsive patient?”
The patient in question lay there as usual but something was filtering through. A sound, nothing that made sense, but something was penetrating the silence he endured.
Helen didn’t answer the doctor’s question. He smiled at her kindly, hoping she wouldn’t get too attached, although he could see why she was drawn to him. Despite the scar he was a handsome man. He had been physically fit before his accident though now, even with the physiotherapy, his once honed muscles were withering.
“Talk to him Helen. There’s evidence that coma patients can sometimes heat, but you need to prepare yourself that he may never come round.”
“Helen.”
Suddenly the strange jumbled noise in the patient’s mind coalesced into a word. Helen. The rest of the doctor’s words became clear. Like someone flicked a switch. John Doe could hear.
He tried to speak, to move, to let them know he had come round but he couldn’t. He became aware of the beeps of the monitors, of the snores and groans of the others on the ward. He was starting to surface.
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!