Time flies by when things are good, Mark thought as he sat watching the lake from the veranda of what should have been the Boathouse Restaurant in the real Central Park. They had no use for a restaurant and Sandra suggested turning it into their home instead of the hospital corridors.
Sandra. Another month had passed and he was still completely in love with her. After their first kiss, they had lost themselves into each other. When they finally returned to their hospital visits, they discovered they had skipped over a week.
What they shared was not physical. Every time they started something, their energy build up dissolved the make believe world and they became a spiral of electricity full of sensorial blasts. Mark was convinced Sandra had left her imprint on his soul. She laughed when he mentioned the word 'soul' but admitted she felt the change.
His first trip back brought him a nasty surprise: his body was ready for him but he decided against returning. He would only do it if Sandra made it too, otherwise, he'd rather die. And dying had become a strong possibility.
He understood what happened to Nicky when Annie held him: his body attempted to reactivate its functions but it couldn't provide enough energy for two entities – physical and spiritual – separately and slowly disconnected from the soul when it didn't return. That's why he had been misdiagnosed as brain dead and his parents made the decision to let him go.
Mark knew that would happen to him soon. He was feeling the effects. To make matters worse, his father had started another motion, this time to switch his life support off. The doctors were still conflicted and Michael was fighting with all his might to keep him alive, at least until the doctors agreed there was no saving for his brother.
Mark didn't want to live to find out Sandra hadn't made it and he couldn't let his body die or he would move on and leave her alone. He would postpone the decision making as far as he could.
He felt a jolt on his chest and he knew she was back. He turned to see her running to him with a wide smile. He opened his arms and she jumped on him, wrapping her legs around him and kissing him deeply. She repeated that action every time they met again. Sandra told Mark she wanted to overdo it, hoping to get tired of it because she wouldn't be able to do it in real life.
She had become more positive about her prospects of living with a disability. The external pins had been removed from her hip and leg and the scars were there, but didn't look as scary as before. Her body was showing signs of recovering and she was eager to start physiotherapy as soon as possible. She was a fighter and would never give up. Her will made Mark want to fight for his life too.
Sandra let go and let her feet back on the floor. Mark held her face in his hands and his legs trembled. He was weaker and hit by occasional pain, making it harder to hide his secret. She noticed.
"Mark," she whispered and he closed his eyes. "Look at me, please."
He took a deep breath and did as she asked. He knew that would be his undoing. He wouldn't be able to lie. Not mentioning it had been hard enough.
"You're hiding something," she said.
Mark detected no accusation in her tone, only concern. "I'm sorry. I don't want to leave you."
"Mark, what's going on?"
Sandra's voice was soothing and caring. Mark felt the tears building.
"I should have gone back three weeks ago," he finally revealed. "But I can't bear to leave you. If you don't go back..." he couldn't finish.
"I will go back, Mark," she said with excitement. "I felt my body pull me today."
He knew what she meant. The pull grew stronger. That's why he had stopped going back to the hospital to visit his body. He went to New York and followed his friends to get updates on the legal fight between Michael and his father, but he wouldn't get close to his hospital room because he didn't want to lose control.
He felt the relief and couldn't stop the tears anymore. He cried of happiness.
Sandra held him and waited for him to calm down.
"We're all dead in the long avenue of life, just not now," he managed to say.
Sandra laughed. She loved his dark, poetic lyrics and that was definitely something he would put in a song.
"How are you feeling? I sensed you were getting weaker but I feared it was bad news. I was too scared to ask."
"I'm hanging on. The longer I stay here, the harder it gets. I don't have a lot of time."
He barely finished the words and pain shot through his chest and he fell to his knees. He had been feeling the sudden bursts but that had been worse, the worst yet. Sandra knelt in front of him and held his face. He was losing consciousness.
"Mark! Mark!" she screamed. "What's wrong? Mark!"
"My body... I feel it fading. What day is today?"
"Saturday. Why?"
"Shit! I thought it was still Thursday."
"I thought too until I went back today. We spend time together and forget," she said. "What was happening Thursday?"
"The doctors were going to have one of those exam sessions on Thursday evening. The court would make a decision if my father could turn my life support off," he laughed hysterically. "I guess Michael lost."
"What the hell? Why didn't you tell me any of this?" Sandra asked in despair.
"I didn't want to worry you. I wouldn't go anyway and I didn't want us to fight."
"Mark, thank you but this is your life you're risking," she pleaded. "It doesn't matter, I'm getting you back right now."
She held onto Mark and travelled to New York. She knew she had to rush and didn't discuss anything. She let her feelings flow and hoped Mark would pick up on them.
They landed on his hospital bedroom floor. In the room was a crying Michael and a stony faced Mr Han. A doctor slowly pulled the drips. The last thing would be the respirator.
Mark laughed. "If this works as I hope, I will love seeing my father's face when the life support is off and I don't die. I wish I could video it."
"Mark, this is serious," Sandra scolded but grinned.
"You're coming back to me, San. This is the only serious thing."
"I don't know how I'm gonna find you."
Sandra helped Mark stand and they shared one last kiss.
He was ready to drop into his body when his father's phone rang. "Asshole. He can't even respect my death."
"Mark! That's it!" Sandra screamed. "Tell me your mobile number."
"What?"
"Quick, Mark. Your cell phone number. I have a great memory. I'll remember."
"Are you nuts?"
"I am, now tell me and I'll ring you when I get back."
The doctor started to turn the respirator off.
"212-555-0191. How will I know it's not a crazy fan after me?" he asked, not entirely joking.
"Didn't you say I marked your soul? We'll put your theory to the test and, if you're right, you should know it's me," she replied with confidence and a smile. "Now go! 212-555-0191."
He stole one last kiss and slid back to life just in time. Sandra watched, repeating his number to herself over and over again.
After a few minutes, the doctor checked Mark's pulse. He made a curious face. He put the stethoscope on his ears and examined Mark. His eyes went wide in surprise.
Sandra watched Michael. He had stopped crying, noticing the doctor's reaction. He had been waiting for his brother to be pronounced dead, however, minutes passed and he was still there: 10, 20, 30 minutes and nothing.
The doctor left the room and came back with another doctor, who repeated the exam. The second doctor turned to Mark's family, a wide smile on his face. "Mark is breathing on his own. We'll remove the sedation to see if he wakes up. It seems your boy is not ready to leave this world, Mr Han."
Michael let out a gasp of relief and cried again, his joy made clear by the cackles between hiccups. "How long before we know, doctor?"
"We'll counter the sedatives but we shouldn't rush. He may still be in a coma. Sometimes the basic bodily functions are restored but there's no consciousness. We won't know until we try."
Mr Han was fuming. Sandra hated the man. He wouldn't say anything in front of the doctors, nevertheless, she knew he was disappointed. He stormed out of the room, mumbling in Korean.
Michael flipped a bird at his father and the doctors were in shock for a few seconds, before returning to work. Michael took the seat next to his brother and waited, holding his hand.
The hours dragged with Sandra sitting on Mark's bed, wishing she could caress his head. She saw his fingers twitch slightly and stood to watch. Michael noticed too and started talking to his brother.
Very slowly, Mark opened his eyes. It took him a while to focus on his brother's crying face. A grin formed and after a few attempts, his voice came out very hoarse.
"I love you, Mikey. I'm so sorry."
A sobbing Michael hugged his brother. "You're back. The rest don't matter."
Doctors and nurses came and went, but Mr Han stayed away. Discussions, new medication, future plans and excited phone calls to their friends happened. It was middle of the night before things settled and they were all exhausted.
Mark cozied in bed to sleep. He still felt sluggish and a little confused.
Sandra approached his bed and whispered in his ear, "I love you, Mark. I'll see you again, soon."
She returned to Leeds hoping her body would pull her in soon.
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