Lean on Me

Chapter Four

My whole body had turned to lead. I couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't react. Nothing. I felt empty, like there was no joy left in the world. I just stood there, watching helplessly as if in a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare. I was vaguely aware of sirens in the distance and the Doctor trying to calm me down, as if there was something he could do. None of that mattered though. What mattered was waking up from this stupid, horrible nightmare. Wake up, I thought to myself. I tried pinching my forearm, but nothing worked. 

I stood there in a daze for what felt like years. But those years turned into months, weeks, days, and suddenly, I was back. Snapped out of my daze and back in the moment. I started walking towards the now closed-off street, and after a few paces, I was running. No, I thought, I need to see him. But before I could get close enough to the scene to see what was going on, two rather large men grabbed my arms to hold me back. 

"No!" I yelled, tears pouring out of my eyes. "No I need to see him. I need to see him!" I was screaming at them, but they appeared to not hear a thing. "He's my son," I said hysterically, collapsing to the ground. "LET ME SEE JAMES!" I was becoming vicious, trying to force my way through. I knew I wasn't helping the situation, but I needed to see him. I needed to hold him in my arms one last time, look for a smile that I knew wouldn't be there. I stood there, collapsing in on myself, inwardly and outwardly. I watched from a distance as the medical team surveyed the scene, and noticed for the first time how much blood was pooling around the small crumpled body in the street. My heart dropped. I knew there wasn't anything they could do, and so did they.  But they tried anyway. 

A moment later, the Doctor appeared in front of me, picked me up, and carried me to the car. I heard the ambulance rush away and the Doctor and I raced after it. He caught me up on what the doctors were saying, that James was still alive but losing a lot of blood. Too much blood. I knew what that meant. But that didn't mean I was ready to accept it. 

We drove ten or fifteen miles to the closest hospital, and almost before the Doctor was able to stop the car I had gotten out and was on my way to the ambulance, which was stopping in front of the doors to what I assumed to be the emergency room. All the medics still had a look of worried yet fierce determination on their faces, my only sign that James was still alive, even if just barely. I ran into the hospital with the gurney and held James' small hand, the hand I knew would never get bigger, crying my eyes out. "James," I cried, "James, listen to me. Listen to Mummy James. You have to stay with me. Don't go. Please don't leave Mummy," I cried one last time as they rushed him into the surgery room. 

I then heard a weak moan. "I don't want to go, Mummy." 

"I love you," I said, letting go of his hand for what I assumed to be the final time.

"Mummy-" James called out one last time, but the surgeons shut the door before he could finish his sentence. I stood there, covering my mouth with my hands, crying harder than I ever had before. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, followed by the only voice that had even the smallest chance at soothing me. "Come on Rose," he said, guiding me over to the waiting area, tears in his eyes too. "Let's sit." 

He sat next to me, rubbing my back and hugging me for what felt like weeks. I knew he was crying too, and we both knew that if James could regenerate he would've done it by now. We didn't talk. We didn't move from our seats. All we did was sit there and offer silent comfort to each other. I knew that the Doctor knew what I was going through. He may not have been as close to James as I was, but he had lost children before too. I could see in his eyes that this feeling of loss was all too familiar to him, and that didn't make me feel any better. Not even close. I wish I could've been there for him then like he was for me.

About an hour later Mum and Dad showed up with Jake. Jake was best friends with Mickey, and they had both spent a lot of time with James. They played football and cars with him, and occasionally superheroes. He and I had also become good friends, and would hang out a lot even when Mickey wasn't with us. They all hugged me and the Doctor as soon as they saw us, and sat in the little space waiting with us. 

I felt so useless, sitting back and crying. My whole world was crashing down, and all I could do was sit back and watch. The doctor came into the waiting room about two and a half hours into the surgery and pulled me and the Doctor aside. This was not a good sign. If he were delivering good news, he would've just told us in front of everyone. But instead he pulled us aside, a solemn look on his face. 

"I sincerely regret to inform you that your son has passed. He died painlessly, and as the anesthesia wore off towards the end he just kept on talking about wanting to stay with mummy. I could tell he loved you very much. Once again, I would like to offer my sincerest regrets."

No, I thought. No. I knew he would die, but that didn't make me feel any better once I received the news. I'm sleeping, I told myself. I'm sleeping and this is nothing but a bad dream and I'll wake up tomorrow morning and James will be asleep in his bed and I'll make him pancakes and everything will go back to normal but even better because the Doctor will be with us. I gave myself the false hope that telling myself that could change the things that happened today, that maybe if I refused to believe it it wouldn't be true, but I knew I was just lying to myself.