A Fight to Remember

It's Complicated Pt. 2

Bailey

I stormed back into the den, panting. Aunt Amy was still there, clearing away files and scans. Everyone else was gone.

"Whoa," she said, seeing my upset. "You okay?"

I shook my head, "Fine," I choked. "Can you just... give me a minute?"

"Sure," she said. "Bailey..."

"I just need a minute." Alone, in this room, with our possible cure. Mom wasn't going to die, right? I just had this feeling. This horrible feeling that time was up if I didn't do something.

And dad was being protective. But it was my choice. Mom gave me that responsibility, and even though dad was back... it didn't mean that he could overrule everything we worked for. I flipped through the mountainous piles of papers distractedly before pounding the desk. I was so angry. Just so... so angry. At myself. At dad, at Alzheimer's.

May 2029

The hospital room was quiet, almost too quiet. And it was dark, the lights were dim. I sighed, trying to get comfortable though my leg was propped up in a cast and my neck was in a soft brace. It was lonely. And frankly, a little scary.

It would be okay, I thought to myself. It was going to be okay.

"Hey." Mom's voice pulled me and I looked up to see her in the doorway.

"Hi mom," I rasped.

She entered slowly, dropping her phone into her bag. She'd changed out of her scrubs and was wearing a simple gray hoodie and blue jeans, her hair loose around her face. "Your friend Cory is going to be okay," she said, coming up to the side of the bed.

"Good," I said, nodding.

She checked my IV and then went about mothering by fluffing the pillows and adjusting the blankets. "Why didn't you listen to your sister? I told her to pick you up."

"A nine o'clock curfew?" I retorted, "I'm sixteen."

"But you have practice."

"I don't care about basketball anymore, mom."

"Well you should, you're up for a scholarship next year." She sat down beside me.

I scoffed. I didn't care about the damn scholarship. "You were supposed to be home," I retaliated. "Maybe if you were home, none of this would've happened!"

"I was saving a life!"

"Yeah? And what about mine?" I snapped. She was never home anymore. She was always busy. We barely talked. She didn't care about us anymore.

"Don't bait me." She replied. "You are responsible for your actions. You chose to pick a fight with your sister, and you chose to drive, and you chose to drive recklessly. I taught you better."

I scowled. "Whatever mom, fact is, you're not home. If there's one thing you taught me it's to never be around."

"Derek Bailey Shepherd!" she jumped out of her chair, ready to lecture me.

"Shut up." I said. "You don't know anything. You're not home. And when you are, you're holed up in the trailer, ignoring us."

"I'm trying to find him!"

"It's been almost a year. If he wanted to be found, we would've found him." I knew all the details about the search. Very, very few people had been found alive after three months. "He went overboard in a freaking tsunami. He's dead."