|Darkness Falls (WAT) Chapter 4 1/2
||[Nov. 5th, 2006|09:42 am]
|[||Tags|||||darkness falls, wat||]|
|||||Nicole Kidman & Cast - Hindi Sad Diamonds||]|
Author: Shirley Parker
Summary: Years later Samantha and Martin maintain a relationship, but it’s not what you think!
Disclaimer: They are not mine. If they were I would probably freak out and start to write about the wedding today. Yeah, I am silly like that.
Thanks to Riley for being mine wonderfull beta. Thanks sweetie. I loved your little coments.
This is actually not the 5th chapter, I'm still working on the bastard. But this is a "cut" piece of the chapter. Because I couldn't find a place for it. I hope it didn't suck much because I didn't give this piece much of attention. I hope you guys don't hate it. Plus, keep in mind that I have a blurry vision while I was revising the chapter due the tears that flooded since I read spoilers of the Lost episode it will air today.
Special Chapter: The owner of a lonely heart
Echoes of her last revelation played inside her head like a broken record, making Samantha instantly regret being so painfully sincere with someone she had to face every day. The word love reverberated and guilt increased when a secrecy, it wasn’t only hers, got exposed. Samantha knew that once she said Martin still owned her heart she would give Sarah the window to read between lines, twisting words and analyzing actions ‘till the inevitable correct assumption was made, that underneath interactions there was much more ugliness than she anticipated, jeopardizing in the process what Sam was trying to uncover so zealously.
She cursed silently for letting her guards down, wondering if she could take the words back. In fact, Samantha wasn’t even sure if she could verbalize her feelings with the word love. Years later she was so certain of things it was terrifying, but the pain changed her and the months apart brought an hypothesis she never considered before and so far she hadn’t succeeded in the hard task of formulating a satisfying answer to her inquiries.
Doubts crawled between cracks of her once secure past, present and future - condensed into one continuous timeline making rationality impossible. Feelings she suppressed for a long time didn’t let her dissociate all the layers of Martin Fitzgerald and she kept seeing the happiness and sadness he brought her during the years making her lose track of how those memories were supposed to be placed in space and time, something ironic since the logic she applied in her job was virtually what she missed in that moment. Maybe time was indeed uniform and memoirs were part of the whole picture.
The same man who lifted her up and dragged her down was returning, to a place that was so significant in their lives, making her realize that despite the fact she felt darkness more times than she could count it was the first time she really could touch and taste it.
But indeed she felt she was drowning before the fall down.
Samantha stared at the light walls of Georgetown University Hospital, trying in vain to contain the panic she was feeling since nerving suspicion started to creep in the back of her mind, adding an extra stress she didn’t know if she could handle, at least not alone. Unfortunately, loneliness wasn’t a foreign ground in the last months and the most important person on her life couldn’t be there for her. Martin was so emerged in grief she feared they would drown in a combined pain and never reach the surface again.
She didn’t know what affected her more: His bad days, filled with anger and depression or the days he was slightly optimistic, nursing illusions in times she could see there were neither miracles nor salvation, not with his mother’s prognostic anyway. Sometimes science sounded very cruel, a cold amount of percentage and data that didn’t consider miracle as a possibility but Samantha had to agree that unfortunately, the natural progression of the disease seemed to unfold in a predictable way.
She knew a few people deeply emerged in the abyss of statistics and facts of the modern medicine that believed in the impossible, but skepticism in a few cases was inevitable. They lost innocence along the arduous path of the learning experience; being trained to lose the prospect of divine interventions by the time they took the first anatomy class. Not that improbable recovery didn’t happen, it just didn’t happen often.
In the oncology sector things were slight more pessimistic as she knew that many detectable malignant tumors were diagnosed too late. A big tumor wasn’t a rare occurrence in people who happened to find a mass in a routine exam, feel inexplicable pain or loose a great amount of weight in a short period of time. Those tumors usually had bad prognostics. It was incredible the fact our own bodies hold the responsibility to cause such harm to people’s lives. Maybe it was even poetic, in some sick way. The fact that one cell, one little error in one gene sequence could cause such a tragic disease was disturbing.
It seems we all have an expiration date.
She smiled weakly, maybe she was spending too much time in the hallways of the hospital but she wanted to be there for Martin. She was living in that place as much as he was and she made good friends, especially nurses. They were the ones that give to patients and relatives a little bit more attention. Samantha could almost relate with them, after all her job allowed her to have a contact that only a few professions had. Sometimes she was lucky and she could deliver good news, sometimes there was tragedy.
In a few cases, it hits home.
And knowing that her in law had an inoperable ovarian cancer, with an aggressive cell type with several metastasis sites didn’t sound good and it was mostly likely to unveil in a bad way.
But right now her mind wasn’t on the moribund people that lay on the hospital beds. She had her own problems.
She stood up quickly when she recognized the disheveled yet beautiful figure of Doctor Julie Spencer walking the corridors of the hospital. Her hair was in a pony tail and she was using the standard white coat with light blue scrubs, sipping something she assumed it was black coffee.
Bourbon it would suit her more if she was a doctor.
“Samantha Spade”, Julie greeted her with a friendly smile.
“Hi”, Samantha replied. A few tears threatened to fall but she recomposed herself “Can I talk to you in a private place for a minute? I mean, if you’re not busy”.
She was nervous as hell.
“Sure, you’re actually lucky because I’m off duty now. Is that something wrong with Mrs. Fitzgerald?” She asked, preoccupied.
Yes, Samantha wanted to say.
The other Mrs. Fitzgerald needed help.
“No, it’s… it’s for me” Samantha faltered, feeling like a high school girl unable to open up with her parents. Maybe that was a bad idea after all; maybe she could handle things on her own.
Dr Spencer frowned slightly, replying a weak ‘okay’. She ushered Samantha to a room she knew there wasn’t going to be interruptions, wondering why she was requesting the expertise of an oncologist. She sat up on a chair, crossing her legs and adjusting her glasses in the process. It was a habit she nursed since she replaced her old glasses.
“Well, it’s just… I know this is not your specialty but I didn’t want to advertise it and I don’t know any good doctors in town are so..” Sam rambled, suddenly she felt uneasy and foolish.
“You’re rambling” Julie pointed out, getting worried by Samantha’s eagerness.
“I’m sorry,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“What about you just tell me what the problem with you is and I’ll see what I can do” Julie replied softly, almost condescending. Years of clinical practice had taught her how to handle pretty much every single situation that unfolded in the office and Samantha was presenting the same psychological reaction she could see in a few of her patients.
It was a shame the same tact didn’t apply in her personal life. She couldn’t read things outside the white walls of her tidy office.
Samantha breathed harder; it was time to let go.
“I think I’m pregnant, I mean… there is a possibility I’m pregnant. Lately I’ve been feeling nauseated, emotional and I had unprotected sex with my husband while I was off pill. I didn’t get my period this month…”, Samantha blurted out. She knew the pace of her voice was rushed and distressed, but she had to say it before she lost the courage she had been gathering for a couple of days now.
“You were not trying to get pregnant and this is worrying you,” Julie stated, searching for a pen to take some notes.
“I forgot to take it for a couple of days. In the time it seemed improbable we would have sex because his mother was getting worse by the minute, but one day he searched for me and we were both just so needy I forgot to use protection, two days latter I realized what I did.” She smiled weakly, thinking of how ridiculous her situation sounded. She was a grown woman, very aware of the fact she had to protect herself from unwanted pregnancy.
Dr. Spencer sighed, adjusting her glasses once more. She missed the antiquated ones, indeed they weren’t very fashionable but they were more comfortable.
“Okay, if you’re on the pill on regular basis there is a possibility you’re not ovulating yet. It actually depends on a few factors like the time you were on pill and the hormonal dosage you take. If you forgot one day you can ovulate in the next day or you can take months to be fertile again. Did you take any pregnancy tests?”
“Not yet, I guess didn’t want to go through this alone,” Samantha confessed, she needed some kind of support.
Julie nodded, understanding instantly Samantha’s necessity to speak with someone she had a bond with, no matter how strong or weak it was. She had heard confessions and intimate tidbits from patients and relatives more than once. With time, she learned that the people around the patients were living that experience too and sometimes their egos were as broken as the people she was treating.
“You’ll have to take a bhCG test. It will be a very good indication if you’re pregnant or not, in spite of the fact even those tests aren’t confirmatory. Heart beats and the ultrasound are because even the belly’s growth and dosage of hormones can be illusory. In a few cases tumors can simulate pregnancy, but it’s not common so we usually consider the bhCG a pretty good indication.”
“Oh, okay” Samantha couldn’t help be a bit amused by the last remark. It seems being an oncologist was Dr. Spencer’s second skin.
“Is this something you want to keep Samantha?” She knew her question was out of line, but it was a curiosity she wanted to fulfill. Samantha didn’t seem happy about the possibility of having a kid. Off course the timeline was screwed up, but she could feel there was much more to it than that.
“I don’t know, I really don’t know” Samantha could say a baby was a blessing among the tragedy she was living lately, but that would be a lie.
She didn’t know.
“Okay, let’s start the anamnesis. This is not my specialty but I think I can at least guide you… Samantha, listen to me, you’ve been under a lot of stress lately and this may be a bodily response to the pressure you’re living with. Either way, you have to take care of yourself”.
It sounded easier than it really was.