FIC: 'The Wait'

Hey-- the first fic in the community! What a way to start everything off...

Author: Anne Marsh
Title: The Wait
Fandom: The Dead Zone
Pairing: Johnny/Bruce pre-slash
Rating: Pretty Tame Angst
Summary: Bruce waits for Johnny...
Notes: First in a series.
Disclaimer: I'm not Stephen King or the USA network (phooey!), so they're not mine...
Feedback: Makes me love you forever.



I was pacing the waiting room, pretty much like your clicheed lion. I ran a nervou hand over my head-- Okay, a tiger, then-- no more mane.

It's weird the kind of thoughts that run through your head when you're not quite sane, and I am feeling so far from sane right now...

I should probably back up the narrative-- hospitals aren't new ground for me, they don't make me nervous in and of themselves. Good thing, too, since a fair amount of my work starts in hospitals. I treat patients at their homes, too, by appointment, or sometimes at a PT center-- and even small towns usually have them, they're just also small. But usually it starts in the hospital-- that's generally where I'll meet my clients. A hospital, in and of itself, is not a scary place to be. In fact, it's a pretty safe place to be, since if anything happens to you, you'll probably find a doctor nearby.

A waiting room, however, is very, very different. If you're in a waiting room, you're not working in a controlled environment with a recovering patient. If you're in a waiting room, it's personal-- someone you know is sick, or hurt, and you don't know how bad yet, you can't see or touch them... I can't see or touch him.

When I called Johnny's cell phone fifteen minutes ago, there was no reply. I hung up and was about to try his home phone again, when my own cell rang. Johnny's in the hospital, could I come. Not 'Johnny's at the hospital', which is still enough to worry me, because there aren't too many reasons for him to just visit the hospital, not too many people he'd be likely to have to visit there, but 'Johnny's *in* the hospital'. And the 'could you come' was as urgent-sounding as I'd care to imagine.

I was close already-- luckily, because I ran the only red light between me and him. Then again, it looked like half the sherriff's station was packed into the waiting room when I got there, so I don't know who would've caught me.

Seeing half the local law enforcement didn't make me feel any better, either-- it told me this was something serious. And it was-- a bullet caught him, doctors were on him when I arrived, treating a sucking chest wound, and I half-wish I didn't know what that meant or how bad it was when someone had one. A sucking chest wound means you can't breathe right-- means one of your lungs has been punctured, so when you try breathing in, it just collapses into itself or sucks in blood. You could drown, or suffocate, if you didn't get some really urgent help.

'We got him here fast', and 'if we knew the building wasn't empty we'd never', and a lot of stuff like that, and probably a lot of people wondering why I looked like I did. I wasn't family or anything. I wasn't his ex-fiancee or some girl he'd seen once or twice, even. Wasn't Purdy, or anybody. Who was I to look like a dying fish just because some guy I know is in the hospital with a sucking chest wound and what if he's not getting oxygen and that kind of thing could cause brain damage, and what, like he doesn't have enough problems there already?

A hand on my shoulder halted me mid-pace. "Johnny's in ICU. They stabilized the wound. Still no visitors, but I thought you'd want to know."

"I ran a red light to get here." I said, feeling at a loss.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that." Walt said, shaking his head and trying to smile for my benefit. "Look-- Go home for the night and come back tomorrow. Johnny hasn't woken up yet."

"I'll wait." I shook my head.

"It could-- it could be a while."

"I'll wait."

"Bruce-- when I say it could be a while--"

"I'll wait." I said flatly, more firmly than before.

"He's comatose, and--"

"When I say I'll wait--"

"It-- it doesn't look rosy, okay?"

"Just how un-rosy does it look?"

"There's not a lot of telling at this stage..." He rubbed the back of his neck and cast about evasively.

"If you know something..."

"The oxygen loss is-- well, you know that's never a good thing... And he-- he had to be re-- He had-- He was dead for about a minute and fifteen seconds... I can make sure someone calls you i-- *when* there's a change, but--"

"I'll wait."

"He could-- he could stay in the coma. And-- there's really no telling how--"

"I'll wait."

He sighed, covering his face with one hand. "Look, I can't make you go home, but you should get some rest, you know?"

"I meant it-- if it's six hours, I'll wait. If it's another six years or sixty, I'll wait. *I* will wait. And when he wakes up, *I* will be here. If no one else is here, I will be. I'll wait."

"He's pretty lucky to have you for a friend." Walt looked at the floor when he said it, that way all people from New England have of not looking at people directly as they're saying something even vaguely emotional.

"I'm pretty lucky to have him, too." I said evenly. I didn't look at the floor. I looked at the wall. Then again, I'm not from New England.

"Just get some rest when you need it."

"I can grab a cot if I have to." I shrugged, with no indication of really doing so.

"We'll be back tomorrow." He clapped me on the shoulder again in leaving, joined his wife by the door, and left.

*She* left. I would wait. And whenever Johnny opens his eyes, I'll still be waiting.

---/-/---

FIN

=^_^=
Anne