Title: There But for the Grace of God

Author: Bron (bronwyn_00@excite.com)

Summary:  Lindsay’s thoughts while in a coma.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to DEK and ABC

* * *

There but for the grace of God

I’m standing at the gates of Heaven, and I don’t know how I got here.

I’m not even sure how I know that’s where I am. But somehow I do. It’s a
sense, a feeling, a calmness you could say. At least that’s what I would
say if I could talk but I find myself incapable of speech, and there’s no
one to talk to anyway, I’m all alone but I’m not afraid. It’s like I’ve
been left with all the good feelings but none of the bad, I have no pain,
no fear, no anger.

I am filled with peace.

As much as I am enjoying my surroundings I know that I can’t remain here
indefinitely. The atmosphere around me shimmers as if it is waiting for me
to make a decision, and suddenly I know what’s being asked of me. Go or
Stay. It seems like an important decision to make, and I pause for a moment
to choose, do I head towards the light or do I retreat back into the
darkness and pain from which I came. But when I put it that way it doesn’t
seem like much of a choice at all, does it? It seems like I have nothing to
lose and everything to gain. The light beckons me and I move towards it.

But then I hear a voice, it sounds desperate and very far away. I stop and
listen carefully, it’s faint but clear at the same time. “Hold on Lindsay,
don’t leave me”

I stop and move away from the light. Suddenly darkness surrounds me and I
feel pain in all the reaches of my body. I’m semi conscious and
disoriented, and unable to move. I hear the voice again, this time closer
to me, but still to far away. “I’m right here Lindsay, I love you”

I lose consciousness to the sound of that voice, talking softly but never
stopping. Sensing perhaps that if it does I’ll slip away again. But it need
not worry, if there’s one thing I can make out amidst the pain and the
turmoil it’s that I’m alive.

* * *

When I surface next I no longer hear the voice and for a moment I wonder if
I have slipped away again. But there’s no light and calmness this time only
darkness. I fear for a beat that I may have missed my chance at Heaven,
because surely only Hell could produce the pain that is coursing through
me. And for a moment I am scared, but then the voice starts again, and I
feel my heart rate return to normal. I can’t make out the words but hearing
the sound is enough.

I open my mouth to talk, to try to say how much I appreciate hearing the
sound, but I fear the words can’t make it past my dry throat. Then I feel
someone squeeze my hand and I hear the voice again, and I think maybe it’s
understood. The pain encompasses me again and for a moment I desperately
wish to go back to the light, to the place where I didn’t hurt and I was at
peace, but then the darkness surrounds me and I fall into it willingly,
welcoming the oblivion.

* * *

A different voice greets me now, and I want to object, to ask for the
familiar voice to come back. But I seem to know this voice as well. I still
feel hazy but somehow I can make out the words.

“You need to come back to us Lindsay, we need you” There’s sadness in this
voice, the sound of someone holding back tears, and I’d like to provide
comfort but I don’t seem capable. Instead I just listen and hope it’ll be
enough.

“Bobby’s lost without you” The voice continues “He needs you to wake up. I
need you to wake up. The doctor says it’ll happen when you’re ready”
There’s a pause and for a moment I think the voice has gone away but then I
feel a pressure on my arm and I know I haven’t been left alone. “You’re my
best friend Lindsay, I love you. I don’t know if I’ve told you that before”
There’s another pause and I wonder if this new voice is waiting for me to
answer. I try but I can’t.

“I just wanted you to know” the voice says, still sounding sad “You sleep
now, and wake when you’re ready”

* * *

Images keep floating past me in the darkness. At first I can’t tell if
they’re memories or dreams, so I try my hardest to concentrate. It isn’t
easy but eventually things become clearer. I see myself as a little girl
sitting on a blanket in the middle of a park. I’m eating an ice cream and
my family sits around me talking, joking and eating, we’re all having a
good time. It’s a nice memory and one I want to hold onto.

But before I know it, it’s replaced by another. I think I’m older now and
my parents are no longer laughing. Instead there’s a lot of anger and
yelling. I don’t like this memory but I can’t get it to go away. I see my
brother Chris, walk by me and he rolls his eyes. “Here we go again” he say
but I can hear tension behind the words. We both turn away and shut
ourselves in our rooms to try to block out the sound.

Again the image moves and I find myself sitting on a grassy hill, the
breeze ruffling my hair. I don’t know why I’m here until I feel movement
beside me and I turn my head. Helen sits down. “I’m sorry” she says, and I
can tell she means it, she looks sad, but I don’t know why. “He’ll be
missed” she says, and turns her head away. I follow her gaze and it’s then
that I see the tombstone. I stand up and walk over to it running my hand
over the smooth, cold marble, freshly planted in the ground. It reads
‘Christopher Dole. Son, Brother, Friend. He will forever live in our
hearts’. I see the tears as they start to fall down my checks and I feel
Helen’s arm around me as I turn and cry on her shoulder.

Then I feel another set of arms around me as I watch the picture change.
This time I’m lying in bed and the arms around me belong to Bobby. I’m no
longer sad, but instead, am sated and happy. My head is resting on his
chest and I concentrate on his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of
his breathing. Then he turns his head to place a kiss on my forehead and he
tells me he loves me. It’s the first time he’s ever said that to me, and I
smile and tighten my hold of him.

I recognise his voice and I know why I came back.

* * *

This time there’s many voices surrounding me. I fight to try to recognise
them all but it’s a lot of effort.

“When’s she going to wake up?” Someone asks.

“I don’t know, she went through a lot of trauma, it’s going to take time”

“How much time? Surely this isn’t healthy.”

“The doctors don’t seem worried”

“Bobby said he thought she was coming to awhile ago. He thought she
murmured something.”

“She did” I hear Bobby say “I’m sure of it”

“Bobby we didn’t see you there”

“How’s she doing?” Bobby asks.

I hear a touch of sadness again “There’s been no change”

A hand reaches out and touches my hair, “It won’t be long now”

Someone clears their throat and then says “We should probably get going,
Bobby call us if you need anything, or if anything changes”

“We’ll be fine” He says, and I drift away to the feel of him squeezing my
hand.

* * *

His voice is angry now, I can hear him yelling “Why isn’t she waking up?
You said 24 hours, it’s been way more than 24 hours, why isn’t she waking
up?”

Then I hear a female voice that I’m quite sure I’ve never heard before
reply “Mr Donnell, sometimes guests of this hospital need to be reminded
that they’re guests”

I hear the worry in his voice, it upsets me to know I’ve cause it. I’m not
sure if I’m ready yet but I push my way out of the haze I’ve been floating
in, to the surface. My eyelids flicker and after one aborted attempt to
open them I finally manage. “Bobby” I whisper.

He’s beside me like a shot. “Lindsay”

“It hurts” I try to pull at the oxygen tube but I lack any strength to
remove it. Bobby’s talking to me giving me reassurances and asking me
questions, I answer them as best I can, but the pain makes it difficult to
concentrate.

After a moment Bobby runs his hand along my hair and he leans closer to me
and says “I love you” just like I heard him say so many times while I was
semi - conscious.

But unlike those other times, this time I’m able to answer “I love you too”