Christmas

Chapter Nine : Tears in Heaven

Christmas
Tears in Heaven
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In life we all make plans, whether it's the baby you didn't know would leave you better off dead or the one you didn't plan on conceiving at all or the job opportunity, that's eleven hours away, you only take to get away from all the pity eyes, from all the constant reminders, from all the he would have beens because every day now, regardless, is a would have been or the matrimony that ends in tears and shoves and screams and slaps and hate and loss and denial and regrets and silence - yes, sometimes the plans we make don't turn out the way we expected, because by trying to help out, we may damage a relationship, by attempting to reach out, we may push someone further away, by digging into the past, we may enrich our present.

Lies are truths we wish to hear and truths are lies we wish were real.

But it is true, the saying that the truth will set you free because the truth is the freedom from the guilt most of us feel when we lie.

Well, not necessarily a blatant lie, just the untrue we tell ourselves and those we care enough to lie to, to feel better about it all. Like the personal life we don't have but still hold on to with calloused hands because the memory of it is just so heartbreaking and beautiful and tiny and all yours.

So so tiny. So so yours to cherish.

His personal life. What's left of it is still dozing away when he walks into her room, a nurse discreetly checking her IV greets him with a smile and he returns it.

He glances at her chart on the table, mouthing her name, followed by his - Erin Lindsay Halstead doesn't sound all that foreign yet. He sees her stir slowly as she wakes, sees the moment her confinement registers with her. The one eye darting across from him with sheer confusion to the white walls, and she starts to stretch awake in that familiar way.

She stops abruptly, whimpers and flinches.

"Easy." he warns quietly.

She doesn't respond. She doesn't have to. He knows that for a moment right there she had forgotten, and he's silent too while she tries puts herself back together, relax her muscles as pain-free as possible.

It isn't. It's evidence on her face.

"How are you feeling?" he asks when she's finally unstiff and sitting up.

She doesn't look at him, only stares straight ahead with her good hand seated on her lap and he can't help but wonder why.

He thought they were more or less okay now. Civil.

Because all in all with what he knows now - shouldn't he be angry at her?

He is and the worst part is he can't express it without being the bad guy.

"Thirsty."

He pours her a cup of water then, holds the straw to her lips.

"I heard you're going to walk today." he tells her.

She gives him a half shouldered shrug.

"I'll walk with you. I have a delivery today ..." - it's sort of true anyway, he has to go to work, the boss whose name he dares not say had called because the guy covering his shifts had called in sick and today's shipment is kind of for a very important client, it's nonnegotiable - "But I'll be back before they get you up. Okay?"

"Yeah, fine." her voice is still slightly hoarse and pained. Well, a lot more than the usual, that is. "Were the guys - in here?"

He flexes his shoulders just slightly at that, maybe his jaws even squares and he clears his throat, he remembers and is reminded again why he can't be shouting at her - is she trying to ask about Adam by asking about the guys in general?