Extinguished

~31~ Alone

Taylor's POV

It's around 9pm, and they've taken the baby back for the night. There hasn't been much of an update. We know that she's still alive, but that's about it.

Suddenly I see her dad and twin brother burst through the door. "Taylor! Alex! Jake! What's going on?" Her dad asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.

I stand up and shake his hand. Then I shake Justin's hand as I tell them the little that I know. They both give Jake a hug, and then turn to Alex and Liam and hug them. It's one big happy reunion around here. It only takes Ellie on her death bed to get these three to come around. That thought puts a sour taste in my mouth. She hardly ever mentions any of them, but I know it bothers her that they've essentially ignored her all of these years.

About half an hour later, the doctor finally comes out.

"We've gotten the bleeding stopped for now. We were able to get it stopped through the laparotomy, so for now she still has her uterus. We've been keeping her under for a while, to make sure there weren't any more surprises. If this continues, we will not have to do the hysterectomy. That's really the only good news I have right now, unfortunately. We had to do several transfusions. We're waiting to see how her body handles it. She isn't out of the woods, not by a long shot," she says, soberly.

Her dad comes forward to speak. "Can I see her?"

"No. She's had a very traumatic day, and her body is fighting hard. We're concerned how her body is going to handle the amount of transfusions we had to do. The number of risks are great. We are monitoring her closely right now. Once we put her in a room, we will let you guys see her."

"When will she wake up?" her dad asks, fighting tears.

"That depends on her body. If it can handle the amount of iron that just got put in, and fights off infections, we're hopeful it won't be long. However, the brain needs to protect itself. If the trauma on her body is too great, her brain may not let her wake up for a while. It could be days, maybe weeks. We don't know yet. I'm sorry I don't have better news," she says as she scans the room, and smiles sympathetically as she turns around to leave.

The atmosphere once she leaves is quiet and heavy. Nobody says anything. There isn't anything to say.

"How's the baby?" Her dad finally asks me. He's been here 45 minutes, and he's just now thinking to ask about the baby.

"Perfect"

"Can I meet it?"

"Her? Yeah, probably. I'll check," I say as I get up to leave. I'm so mad at him. I'm mad at how he gets to act like he's worried for Ellie now. Where has he been the last 13 years?

I go to the nurse's station, and they go back to the nursery to grab the baby.

When I hand her to him, his face softens. He gently rocks her back and forth, telling her how pretty she is. "She looks just like Eleanor, doesn't she?"

"Yes she does," I say simply.

He holds her for a while, and then Justin does. I give her back to the nurses after they're done. 

The rest of the night we all just sleep in chairs. I try to convince the guys to go home and sleep—Shift is tomorrow. Nobody budges.

"We're not leaving until we know she's ok," Diego says, stubbornly. I knew better than to argue with him. I know nobody's leaving.

The next morning, we still haven't heard anything. Everybody is starting to get irritated; We want some answers. Finally, after what feels like forever, a doctor comes in.

"We have her in a room now. Her body, so far, is handling everything ok. We will allow visitors, but only two at a time."

Her dad and Justin jump up and immediately go in. It's fine. I understand her dad wanting to see her. However, now he gets to be dad of the year, while her own son doesn't even get to see her first? I'm seeing red at this point.

They're in there for half an hour before they decide that maybe some of the rest of us would want to see her.

They look to Jake, and he just shakes his head. "Let one of them go first. They have more of a right to see her than I do."

I'm shocked. That was actually a really selfless thing he just did.

Alex looks at me. "You and Liam go ahead. Give her a kiss for me."

We get to the room and Liam stops at the door. "I don't think I can do this, Taylor. I don't think I can see her. Not like this."

"I know how you're feeling, buddy. I'm scared too. But your mom would be there for us, wouldn't she?"

He simply nods, takes a deep breath, and motions for me to go first.

When I see her lying in the bed, my breath catches in my throat. This isn't my Ellie Jane. This is an imposter. I mean, it is her of course, but she looks dead.

Her face is whiter than the sheets. Literally. She is so tiny and frail. It's only been 20 hours. How could she look so thin?

There's tubes sticking out of her all over. She has an oxygen tube in her nose, and her eyelids are purple. Dark purple. Her hair is a complete mess. She even has some blood in her hair. How did the blood get to her hair, and why has nobody cleaned it up?

As soon as Liam sees her, he loses it. He just puts his back against the wall and slides down it, folding himself into a ball. I have to admit, seeing her like this is traumatic. I suddenly feel guilty for convincing him to see her. If she doesn't make it, this image will haunt him forever. I know it will me.

I go over to him and grab him, bringing him into me. I speak comforting words into his ear until he calms down enough hear me.

"Listen, she might be able to hear you. Just because her eyes are closed, doesn't mean she can't hear. Don't let her hear you fall apart. She doesn't need to be putting her energy into being worried about us. K?"

I don't know if what I'm saying is a crock of shit or not, but it just sounds like it could be true.

He calms down and walks over to her, grabbing her hand gently in his own. He made sure he grabbed the hand that wasn't hooked up to an IV.

"Momma! Momma you've gotta wake up. I can't do this without you. Please, momma. I promise if you wake up, I'll never do anything wrong again. Don't leave us," he says as his voice cracks again.

He looks at me and he just shakes his head. He can't do anymore right now. I nod at him, letting him know that it's ok. She would understand—He can leave.

He turns and leaves without another word. I turn back and look at her—My sick, frail, breathtakingly beautiful girl, and I lose my cool. I go over to her, sit in the chair next to the bed, and grab her hand. Before I know it, I have my forehead on her hand in the bed, and I'm just laying over it, sobbing. This can't be how this story ends. We were supposed to get married. Have lots of babies. Live to see those babies grow old. Die together, in our beds, at the same moment. That is how this story was supposed to end.

It isn't supposed to end with me being alone. I'm not supposed to be raising this baby alone. There needs to be a better ending.