Trinity

6

No. Oh God, no.

Shepherd jolted from the seat where the doctors held him, tearing free from their grasp. A larger doctor in a surgeon's suit grabbed his arm at the last second and pulled him back. Shepherd slammed his shoulder against the man's chest, sending him backwards onto the ground, and took off towards his mother's room.

Inside, the doctors and nurses were no longer rushing. They stood around the bed looking tired and melancholy. Shepherd pushed his way to his mother's bedside. No one rushed to stop him.

"Mom!" Shepherd screamed, voice cracking.

Her face was porcelain; her body still. A few flecks of blood had dried to her neck and cheeks. The continuous beep of the heart monitor continued, showing no sign of life.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shepherd whispered, kneeling down beside her. "Why are you giving up?"

He could feel tears coming to the surface of his eyes, but he wouldn't cry. Not yet. He refused to believe it was over. It couldn't end like this; he wouldn't let it. Taking her hand in both of his, Shepherd closed his eyes. God, her hand was cold.

"I know you have more fight in you than this," he whispered. "So show me."

Tears began to escape his eyes, but he ignored them. He clasped her hand harder. The doctors shuffled in the background, speechless.

"Show me," he pleaded.

Someone walked up behind Shepherd, placing their hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Shep," they said. "We had to call it. She's been unresponsive for too long."

"Show me!" Shepherd screamed, ignoring the doctor. He opened his eyes, allowing the pent up tears to stream freely.

"Dammit Mom, show me something!"

The doctor behind Shepherd tried to pull him to his feet, but Shepherd shook free. He turned to the bedside table, removing the drawer that held so many items; so many stories that he wanted to share. Taking his mother's hand again he placed it in the drawer, on top of the items inside.

"Don't you want to know what you've missed?" he whispered, sobs escaping from the back of his throat. Once again, Shepherd closed his eyes, and pressed her hand against the contents of the drawer.

He knelt there, hoping for something; anything. Miracles happened all the time, right? So why not now?

Minutes passed slowly. The doctors and nurses stood by idly, watching the scene unfold. With each passing second, hope drained from Shepherd's soul, emptying from him until he could feel himself unraveling. Shepherd felt as if he were falling into a dark, and infinite abyss as he crouched there, holding his mother's lifeless hand.

"I can't believe you," he sobbed. "After all this fighting...after all the hell we've been through, you're giving up."

Shepherd stood on weak legs, releasing his mother's hand.

He was falling, farther and farther into darkness. His aura became black as night, seeming to darken his surroundings. There was nothing for him now; nothing to spur him to keep going. Life had become barren and broken in a matter of moments, and that's how it would stay.

No, Shepherd thought. My life has been broken for a long time. Now, it's just...gone.

All the life that was left in him had been poured into his mother, who now lie dead and cold. It was over.

"No," said the girl in Shepherd's head. "Please..."

Shepherd ignored her for the hundredth time, and slowly exited the hospital room.