The Clinch

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty One

I come around from my coma to find my father stood over my bed with a bleak expression on his face. He doesn't even struggle to smile at me like anybody else would, because he knows a smile isn't what I need right now; my daddy knows me better than I know myself sometimes. Instead he takes my hand and gives my knuckles a light kiss.

"It's good to have you back kid."

The sorrow in his eyes as they meet mine is deep, soul deep, and I try to hold back my tears the best I can. But alas, several of them start to spill over the edges of my lashes. My father doesn't say anything about the tears, he just wipes them away and waits for me to speak. And I do, after I've taken a sip of the water from the plastic cup in his hands, and cleared my dry throat. "Where's Coby?"

My voice is huskier than I should be, but I don't find the will to care. All I could possibly devote myself to right now is caring about Gabriel and Coby.

"With your mother, he's in perfect health. Just misses his mother." At this, my father offers me a squeeze of the hand. "They operated on your leg to get the glass out, you're lucky it isn't too damaged. Unfortunatley you lost the baby, sweetie, they think you were thrown into the dashboard when the other car took you out from the side. I'm sorry baby."

Now the tears are free falling, and I use to back of my hand to angrily push them aside. "Gabriel was so happy that I missed my period. He was giddy with excitement; he's a perfect daddy to Coby and he just couldn't wait for more. We were going to tell everyone once we reached the three month mark, when it's safe to say, it would have been three months this Saturday at the family dinner. He's going to be devestated.

"I'm upset, I guess. But I don't care like I should, I think, all I'm grateful for is that Coby's alright, and that Gabriel... Well, I hope he's okay, how's he doing?"

The last time I saw my Gabriel he was being placed on to a spinal board to be rushed to the hospital for emergency care. That was before I passed out from the miscarriage. It doesn't hurt to say the words miscarriage like it should do, but I guess I'm too relieved that Coby's alright at the moment to think about the grief of losing my baby. I'll mourn later, I hope, because right now all my efforts need to be focused on making sure that Gabriel gets better.

My father settles me back against the bed and runs a hand through my hair. "You're a strong woman Darryl, and Gabriel is just as strong. He's pulled through surgery, they had to correct his fractured ribs and sew up his punctured lung. The MRI and CT's didn't show up anything out of the usual, but his head's going to kill for a few weeks. He's still in recovery now and they've induced a coma that'll last for a couple more days so he can heal."

I settle a hand over my heart. "Thank you. He's going to be alright?"

"When he wakes up, yes, he'll be alright Darryl. But you'll both need to take it easy for a few weeks. I can't say the same for the other driver..."

"Oh god, what happened?"

My father smoothes my hair back from my face. "He got into the car drunk and ran a red light. There was no way Gabriel could have seen him coming, he was going at a good speed, flew right through his windshield and died at the scene."

As much as I feel as if I should be feeling remorse for that man dying in the crash, I also feel hateful towards him. He's the idiot who got into the car intoxicated and landed Gabriel in the hospital; he's responsible for Gabriel's near death. If Gabriel had died...

I don't even want to entertain thoughts like that, instead I turn to my father and change the topic completely. "Can I see my son, please? I miss him."

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Two days later I'm sat next to Gabriel's bed waiting for him to come out of his coma, with Coby on my lap and my crutch at my side. They want me to use the crutch until my stitches fully heal and can be taken out in a few days, and I was quick to comply to the rules as long as I could bypass visiting hours and spend as much time as possible with my husband.

Coby doesn't seem happy with being ignored by his daddy, but I preoccupy him with kisses and by encouraging him to speak in baby babble, hoping that Coby's sounds will peak a response in Gabriel.

Sadly he remains lying in the same state he's been in since the incident; camatose. His face is sporting several scrapes and bruises, his forehead showing the hard evidence of where his head hit the steering wheel upon impact.

I release a sob to see him so despondent and cry softly into the crown of Coby's head. Gabriel is my everything, and if he doesn't come around I'm afraid of what I'll become. I won't be strong enough for Coby because I'll mourn as if I've lost a half of myself. I don't want my baby boy to resent me because I couldn't be strong enough for him; we need Gabriel, he's our fallen angel.

Taking Gabriel's limp hand in my grip, I kiss the back of his cut up hand and slowly tickle my fingertips over his palm. "Wake up please baby. I shouldn't have shouted at you. If we didn't get into that argument we'd be putting the Christmas tree up right now, and you'd be helping Coby put the star on top just like you used to do when you were a boy. You're big for tradition like that. And you'd be upstaging me in the kitchen and showing me how to roast chestnuts, you smug jerk. Please..."

Coby places his little hand over mine and wraps it around his father's thumb, trying to tug it to his mouth like a chew toy.

If Gabriel were awake, he'd be laughing at Coby's antics and teasing him. I smile at the thought and scoot my chair closer to Gabriel's bedside until I can rest my head against his shoulder. "I will never give up on you Gabriel. Even when you're being a jerk. Even when I can't stand the sight of you. Even when you finally realize you're too good for me. I will never give up."

(A/N) Song Suggestion: Mikky Ekko- We Must Be Killers, Daughter- Touch