Rain Check?

~87~

Chris POV

  I give myself only a moment before releasing my mother's hand and walk with purpose past Scott down to room 7. Carly glances up from the doorway, stepping out and off to the side in order to allow me room to come in. 

  Never could I have prepared myself for what I saw. I've seen Dempsey vomit, pass out, be hooked up to an IV and still they are nothing in comparison to seeing her laying in a hospital bed. My steps falter as I reach the door, barely seeing in her room from the threshold. She lays there, a machine breathing for her. I see her chest move up and down, but know that it's not on her own accord. There are numerous tubes and wires leading to another machine that's lit up with multiple numbers.  

  My feet feel like concrete weights are attached to them. Heavier than any ankle weights I've ever worn while working out. I notice Leigh Ann look up from her spot next to Dempsey's bed, watching me. But all I can do is focus on how the love of my life is dependent upon machines to keep her alive. 

  "Chris," the small voice of her mother attempts to pull me in.  My focus doesn't move. My body doesn't move. I see her body move, only because my line of sight stays on her daughter. "Sweetheart." I don't acknowledge her until I feel her hand on my forearm, the opposite taking my hand in her own. "You can come in," she gently tugs me forward. 

  My feet remain planted no matter how much my brain screams for me to take a step. One single step, Chris. Just one. Get closer to her. Feel complete again. Go. 

  And I can't.

  I feel another hand come up on my shoulder. It's wider, not quite as gentle and I know it's my brother. With his push combined with Leigh Ann's pull I step into the room, but then push myself against the wall next to the door. 

  "You can go and talk to her. The doctor said she might hear you."  

  I shake my head as my eyes begin pooling. "I can't."

  "Yes, you can," Scott's voice coming out stern as he can read my body language. 

  I can feel the inside of my body shaking and it's taking every ounce of muscle memory to even remember how to stand at this point. I finally drop my eyes to meet Dempsey's mother. "I'm sorry," I mutter before slipping back out of the door and down the hall leaving my family to sigh in frustration.

  "Christopher!" my mother screeches as I pass by her. 

  I duck out of the hospital as a whole before collapsing on a bench just outside the main entrance. The sun has long since set, as Dempsey had been in surgery for numerous hours. The sky is clear, the black speckled with the tiniest of lights from the stars that are doing their best to put on a show. 

  I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket before I pull it out, realizing I'd all but ignored it the entire afternoon. Multiple missed calls and texts from Megan. Opening my phone I flip to the texts because I figure at this point it's too late to call. 

  My brows pull together in confusion by her messages. When I get to the last one, sent just two minutes ago, I decide to call her.

  "Chris!" she answers quickly. "What is going on?"

  "Sorry," I sigh. "I know I've been out of pocket most of the day, something came up. But I did do that interview earlier."

  "That's why I tried to get a hold of you. I don't know exactly what went on as to why you ended it so abruptly but apparently you didn't turn off your mic. She heard all kinds of things between you and Scott and now she's pushing for more details or she's going to run with some random story that you went off the deep end with your response when she asked about if you'd ever date a reporter."

  I curse under my breath. Of course that's what she would do. Damn it. Why did I ever get involved with the woman? For a few moments of not feeling tied down to anything? When I had the real thing waiting for me at home. 

  "So, wanna tell me what the hell is going on?" she yells in my ear.

  I very quickly give her a rundown of what the woman probably heard, making sure to tell her that it was all concerning Dempsey and nothing else. "It's bad, Megan. Really bad."

  "So is this, Chris. We have to do damage control here."  I recognize the 'all business' tone to her voice and normally would snap in line in order to salvage the career ahead of me.

  Not this time. 

  "I don't give a shit about damage control, Meg! The woman I love is laying in a hospital bed and may never walk again! I don't care what the woman writes, she's going to do whatever the hell she wants to anyways. She can scream at the top of her lungs what happened in that back hallway at the club and I wouldn't care! You deal with it, that's your job!" 

  I hung up without another response, knowing that I've rarely spoken to her that way, probably leaving her dumbfounded. 

  "Care to talk about it?"

  I turn towards the small voice of Conor over my shoulder. I hang my head in shame for my reaction and also for my indiscretion that has now been announced to Dempsey's sister. 

  Gritting my teeth I release a loud growl, thankful that no one is around. "I'm a complete screw up!" I yell to the black of night. 

  I hear her feet against the concrete as she comes closer to me. "I'm sorry, Conor. Just forget all of it, okay? What can I do for you and your mom? What do you guys need?"

 "What I need is at least ten minutes of not thinking about my sister laying in a bed unconscious," she admits with tired eyes.  "What I need is to not think about the man that put her there. What I need is just a few moments of anyone else's problems except mine." 

  I find the smallest piece of skin next to my cuticle and begin picking at it, my anxiety picking up and making me wish I had thought to grab my meds before rushing out of the house. When my own fingers can't get it to come off I lift it to my teeth, biting at it, wishing Dempsey was here to tell me to knock it off.  She'd tell me to find something else to do with my hands, at which point I'd grab her sides and tickle her until she cried. 

  "I don't think you want to hear the story about how I broke your sister's heart. I'm sure you've heard it more than once already."

  She sighs, her shoulders sagging a bit more as she leans back into the bench. "Then how about you tell me why you've backed off so much recently."

  I cock my head to the side, looking up at speckling of stars again. "I'm not quite sure how much you know about your sister's recent thought process on some things. I'd hate to be the one to spring her latest plans on you. Not sure she'd appreciate it either."

  "Well, idiot," she says with the smallest chuckle letting me know it's a form of endearment at this point, "in light of today's events, I imagine those plans are not going to be on the forefront of her mind any time soon."

  As I spill the information Dempsey received on her birthday with not getting a renewed contract I discover that she and her mother had not heard that bit of the story. I feel like crap, like I've broken Demi's trust again. 

  "So, she finds another job." By the look on her face I can tell a realization has hit her. "Crap."

  "She'd planned to move, go back to school for her Masters too. I started to back off, giving her space, selfishly I guess. She said that she'd been thinking that maybe we could make 'us' work again," I start to tear up, my words cracking. "But that the universe was too busy spitting in her face and making her decisions for her. It's my fault she didn't get the contract, so I backed off."

  Conor turns to face me. "You know she still loves you, right?" 

  I shake my head. "No, she doesn't. When she wakes up she's going to remember why I'm a piece of crap and send me right back out that door."

  "Not to put a damper on your self pity party, but it might be hard for her to do that if you won't walk in the room, Chris." 

   Pinching the bridge of my  nose as I sniffle, a huff of air releasing from my lungs. "She doesn't deserve any of this, Conor."

  "No one ever does."