Mr Rickman [Sequel to Mr Americano] - An ALAN RICKMAN fanfic

Chapter 18 - The Ray Amongst The Grey

Thank you SO much for the feedback on my last chapter! It was one I anticipated writing from the very start knowing that it had to lead up to that. I was so pleased with the response - to hear that people were kept on the edge of their seat! A wonderful feeling as a 'writer.' Thank you!!

So what happens now....

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December 18th - Chelsea and Westminster Hospital

The ominous beeping of my heart rate monitor fills each dip of conversation - hollow - reverberating off the walls of the private hospital room, creating an eerie atmosphere between the four clinical walls. I lay exhausted, wired on pain medication, beaten, bruised... internal bleeding, a fractured rib, facial swelling to name an external few. Internally I was beaten beyond my appearance, sunken beyond the deepest depths.

I'm yet to hear of Judy's condition and that of my unborn baby - I can only wait. I have not the energy or the confidence to tell Alan the result of the pregnancy test this morning, when the health of our baby is yet unknown. Laying here now with a tube in my arm, it seems as though it happened in another dimension when in reality it only happened a few hours ago.

Alan had asked about the results of the pregnancy test as we rode in the ambulance to Chelsea and Westminster Hospital. Seeing my beaten face and body, I could sense his fear that I was carrying a potentially harmed tiny life inside of me. I couldn't bring myself to tell him I'm pregnant when I'm now fearing the worst,and so I told him I hadn't yet taken a test; this of course made him terribly anxious. On top of everything else, it's a conversation I cannot bare the thought of right now.

As I lay here hospitalised, my screams are capsuled, grief inhabiting like a sickness, questions spiralling into a knot of confusion - a puzzle to unravel. My eyes that have endured multiple rounds of boxing are swollen, black and purple, my fractured rib making breathing all the more difficult as each tearfully induced shake of my chest shoots pain throughout my torso. Any sign of distress however, and Alan - who hasn't left my side - cannot do enough.

"Do you want me to sit you differently? Are you uncomfortable? Do you need another pillow? Hold on I'll-"

"No, Alan, it's- it's not that. I just-"

It's as far as I get before I choke on my tears. He encourages me to close my eyes, to rest, but whenever I do all I see is the cold seeping blood of my sister, the pull of a gun trigger, the spray of blood as Scott placed the gun under his chin and took his own life.

Just then the door opens and a doctor peeks through.

"How are we doing?" he gently asks with a clipboard clutched to his blindingly white coat.

"We?" Alan answers dryly, "I think Rebecca's the priority right now."

I apologize to the doctor for Alan's sense of humour, for which the doctor takes no notice and smiles.

"Figure of speech Mr Rickman, although your wellbeing is also of importance to us. It was a terribly distressing thing for you all to witness."

Alan jumps in before the doctor can say anything after examining my face.

"She's still in a great deal of pain but don't administer anything unless absolutely necessary. She doesn't want to be pumped full of drugs."

No, Alan doesn't want me to be pumped full of drugs, but I on the other hand want whatever it takes to take away the feeling.

"Is there any news of my sister?" I ask anxiously, expecting the worst.

With Ellie in the children's ward with multiple bruising not to mention extreme shock, Alan is unable to relax. If he isn't perched against the window-sill mentally putting together pieces with his arms folded, he is pacing the room, anxiously touching his face. He looks over just as the doctor is administering further pain medication.