In Another Life by Carys Jones Page A

treatment and they’d be waking her up, not sitting here debating theoretical outcomes.
     
    “Do it,” Carol spoke her, her voice barely audible.
     
    “Sorry, Mrs Schneider?” Dr. Simmons looked at her, not quite deciphering her response.
    “Do it, wake her up, save my little girl,” Carol repeated a little louder, the tissue now permanently held just beneath her eyes.
     
    “Sweetheart, we should think about this,” Bill whispered fearfully to her. “We don’t know how she’d be if they wake her up this way.”
     
    “Sebastian is right, she’d still be Marie. I just want her back, I don’t care about anything else.”
     
    Bill looked at his wife, saw the resolute glint in her eye and nodded towards the doctor.
     
    “Okay, let’s do it,” he sighed. “Just be prepared, Carol, that she might not be Marie anymore when she wakes up.”
     
    “No, she’ll always be Marie,” Carol corrected him as Dr. Simmons handed across the consent forms for them to sign.
     
    *
     
    “It will take several hours,” he’d explained to them. “First we administer the stimulants and then we continue to monitor her. We anticipate that her vitals will grow stronger and hopefully she will wake up before the end of the day.”
     
    “Hopefully?” Sebastian challenged.
     
    “It doesn’t always work,” Dr Simmons sighed. “But this is our very last chance to wake her up. Like I said, the longer she stays under the more damage is done.”
     
    And so the family watched from beyond the ICU as strong stimulation drugs were added to Marie’s IV and slowly fed in to her system.
     
    “I hope this works,” Bill stated tensely.
     
    “It has to,” Sebastian sighed, resting her hands upon the glass. “I need her to come back to me.”
     
    “We all do, son,” Bill patted the younger man on the back. Usually, Sebastian resented anyone calling him son. He found it to be a condescending term. But today he found it endearing. He, Bill and Carol were unified in their grief and desperation for Marie’s return. They all knew what it was like to love her, none of them wanted to learn what it was like to lose her.
     
    “We should really go home and rest,” Bill said softly to his wife.
     
    “No, I want to stay; I want to be here when she wakes up.” Carol objected.
     
    “The doctor said it will take several hours,” Bill coaxed her away from the window. “You really need to rest honey. We’ll come back this afternoon.”
     
    “I’ll stay,” Sebastian offered though he had no intention of leaving. “I’ll call you if anything changes.”
     
    “She’s lucky to have you,” Bill placed a comforting hand upon Sebastian’s shoulder. He saw in the older man’s eyes that he’d already accepted that Marie was gone. There was only himself and Carol clinging on to the shred of hope that not only would she wake up, but when she did she’d still be herself, as wonderful and as vibrant as she ever was.
     
    “I won’t take my eyes off her,” Sebastian promised. “Not for a second.”
     
    “Thank you,” Carol said tearfully. Begrudgingly she allowed Bill to lead her away from the ICU.
     
    Sebastian turned back towards the window, towards Marie. She remained utterly still and perfectly preserved as the machines around her did all the work of maintaining her life.
     
    “Come on baby,” Sebastian urged desperately, resting his forehead against the cool glass.
     
    “Wake up, I know you can do it.”
     
    As exhausted as he was he couldn’t leave. He had to maintain his vigil at Marie’s side. He had to believe that at any moment she would wake up and turn to face him, giving him that smile she always did when something pleasant caught her by surprise. Her face would fill up with childish wonder and Sebastian would be overwhelmed by her beauty.
     
    That was one thing he adored about Marie; her ability to find wonder and magic throughout the world. She’d instilled in him an unrepentant sense of hope