Love Is A Battlefield (Alan Wilder x Martin Gore)

6: Get Right With Me

Two days later, March 31st, 12:38pm, the hospital:

The previous forty eight hours had been a blur. A blur of pure fear, frustration and devastation. Sitting at Esme's bedside, Martin's eyes wandered around the room. It was where he, his husband and their daughter had been residing as she continued to be examined and treated after the diagnosis of a critical concussion. He felt thankful that Esme was no longer in the children's intensive care unit and had been moved to a children's ward, a much more comfortable space. He also felt thankful that she was seemingly still oblivious to it all. That she likely had no clue of what had happened and of where she now was. Since their arrival at the hospital, she had regained consciousness but only for temporary moments at a time. After those moments had concluded, she would return to her sleeping state. Though he was right by her side and had never once left it, he missed her. It was a peculiar feeling. He longed to see her smile and to hear her giggle. He missed her as though she was someone he hadn't seen in many years.

In a trice, his train of thought and emotion was interrupted when there was a knock at the door. He got up from his chair next to Esme's bed and walked over to the door to answer it.

"Buenas tardes, señor Wilder!" The doctor greeted him with an enthusiastic tone.
"Good afternoon, Mr Wilder!"

At that moment, Martin had never been more relieved that he was fluent in the Spanish language.

"Buenas tardes!" He replied, attempting to disguise how dull and down he was truly feeling.
"Good afternoon!"

Politely allowing the doctor inside, they went to sit on the sofa that sat nearby the window.

"Por lo tanto, ella ya no está posando, lo cual es una feliz noticia. Sus niveles de oxígeno también se ven bien. Esperamos que pueda ser dado de alta más tarde en el día de hoy."
"So, she is not posturing anymore, which is good news. Her oxygen levels are looking acceptable too. We hope that you can be discharged later today."

"Estoy muy feliz de escuchar eso. Realmente apreciamos su ayuda." Martin replied.
"I'm so happy to hear that. We really appreciate your assistance."

"No es ningún problema. Sólo haciendo nuestro trabajo. Una enfermera lo visitará en breve para realizar sus observaciones y verificar sus niveles de oxígeno. Por ahora, disfrute de un tiempo para relajarse."
"It's no problem. Only doing our jobs. A nurse will visit you shortly to perform her observations and check her oxygen levels. For now, you can enjoy some time to relax." The doctor began getting up and he put his hand out for Martin to shake.

Martin did so, now not needing to pretend to smile.

"Gracias de nuevo, doctor."
"Thank you again, Doctor."

He then saw the doctor out of the room, and it was at the same time that Alan at last emerged from the bathroom cubicle.

"Could've sworn I heard you talking to someone just now, love." He said, walking to the coffee machine.

"I was; it was the doctor." His husband replied, seated at his daughter's bedside again.

"Oh, really? What was he saying?"

"Just that her oxygen levels are looking much better and that he's hopeful we'll be discharged later on. Oh, and her posturing has completely stopped, otherwise we would still be in the ICU."

Alan's body shuddered at that word. Posturing. He thought back to he and Martin being told that it was Esme's brain's final attempt to receive oxygen and felt like bursting into tears, then and there. The incident in its entirety made him think about a life without his daughters, nor his husband. He couldn't imagine one, for they were his life. And the mere thought and potential possibility of losing Esme had she not received immediate treatment in the days past unquestionably petrified him.

"You alright, Al?" Martin's voice brought him out of his moment of disassociation.

"Yeah, I- I'm alright." He picked up his coffee cup and went to sit down beside him. "I'm just really, really glad she's still here."

Letting out a sorrowful sigh and taking Alan's hand, Martin kissed him on the cheek, all the while rubbing his hand with his thumb.

"I am too, Alan, I am too."

~~~~~
One day later, April 1st, 6:33pm, the villa:

DEPECHE MODE DAUGHTER DISCHARGED FROM HOSPITAL; FIRST DEVOTIONAL TOUR DATE TO 'LIKELY' GO AHEAD AS NORMAL:

Esme Wilder, the youngest of Depeche Mode couple Alan and Martin Wilder's two children, was rushed to hospital on the evening of March 29th as the result of an accident involving a trampoline. Upon examination, Wilder was confirmed to have suffered a severe concussion in which caused critical oxygen inhalation difficulties. She subsequently spent the following two nights in the children's intensive care unit on a ventilator and undergoing other breathing treatments, after which she was deemed to have made enough progress to be moved to a children's ward for further monitoring yesterday morning, and discharged later last night. She was, however, discharged with the placement of a breathing tube which she will have to use until further notice.

"Esme will need to rest up for the next few days, at least." Andrew Fletcher told us in a phone interview. "She is improving all the time but it is important she takes the time to recover fully."

Despite this, Depeche Mode hope to play their first tour date, scheduled for April 8th at the Madrid Arena, as normal. They ask those who purchased tickets to stay hopeful with them and to keep their fingers crossed. Everyone at Melody Maker Magazine wishes Esme a quick recovery.

Martin read the article whilst Esme lied on his chest, 'Get Well Soon' labelled cards on every shelf in the room. Esme was drowsy, but alert and slowly but surely getting back to herself. Although she now needed a breathing tube and was exceedingly wearied following the trauma to her head, she was no less Esme than she always had been.

"It's not going to last." Martin whispered as he mercifully kissed his daughter's head. "We'll be okay."