A Healer's Tale

Zane sat motionless in the chair next to Bridget's hospital bed. Silent tears streamed from his unfocused eyes, over his flushed cheeks, to finally land on his warm hand clasping her icy one tenderly. He listened to the monitor tick off her heartbeats slower and slower. The change was barely noticeable since it was hardly moving in the first place.
'No! You can't leave me!' He thought desperately as he closed his crystal blue eyes in deep concentration.

He needed a happy memory to focus his energy on and a strong one. He thought about it for a moment before settling on the memory of their first kiss, and her startled, but not displeased, expression. He focused solely on the light blush creeping over her facial features set in a look of pure bliss. He fixated on that happy time and tried to center himself in it. It was just so hard to rein in his conflicting emotions, but he knew it was the only chance he had to save the love of his life. He let loose of his anger towards himself for not protecting her well enough and his worry for her. He engrossed himself instead in the memory of a light sprinkle of freckles over her rosy cheeks, and the way her auburn hair shone in the moonlight.

He felt his life-force slipping into her, combating death, and just hoped he wasn't too late. He ignored the commotion and bustle of the busy hospital around him and listened solely on the beating of her heart, which seemed directly linked to his own. It was so slow now, or was it just his perception of time that had slowed? He heard that could happen if you spent too much of your power healing someone. He also heard that if you weren't careful, you could go mad, but right then, none of that mattered. He could feel himself growing weaker and weaker with each second that ticked by and knew it just had to be working. It had to be. His eyes were closed so tight, and he was so zeroed in on the sound of her heart, that he didn't hear the light patter of approaching footsteps on the hard linoleum floor.

Elizabeth stared down at Zane's bulky form hunched over Bridget's petite one. She, also being a healer, knew what he was trying to do. She could see the faint shimmer around their hands. They looked just slightly out of focus, like how someone who wears reading glasses would see the pages of a book without them. She might have dismissed it as a trick of the light and thought no more of it, if not for the faint blue hue shimmering at the edges.

At that moment, Bridget flat lined and Zane gave a sharp intake of breath. The tears coursed faster from his eyes, and the blue hue became less indistinct, seeping in towards the middle. Suddenly her heartbeat picked up again in irregular, pitiful thumps, as Zane slumped forward more and more.
'This has to stop!' she thought angrily to herself.
She walked over briskly and placed her hand lightly on Zane's shoulder trying to hold in her anger. It wouldn't do either of them any good at present. He jumped slightly at her touch but otherwise gave no acknowledgment.

"Let her go," she said softly. As much as saying those words riddled her with pain, she knew someone had to say them before things got anymore out of hand. There was no way to save Bridget that wouldn't wind up doing her more harm. He had to know that.
"I can't!" Zane shrieked in reply. It was somewhere between a shout and a strangled sigh, and his voice cracked in more places that Elizabeth thought possible in two words.
"You know what will happen," she said simply, trying to act indifferent. She didn't want to let on to the extreme worry he was putting her through and worse, the betrayal that he would even attempt such a thing.

"I know!" he snapped, but the hue dimmed just slightly, wavering with his resolve, and started inching its way back to the border.
"Then you're being selfish," she snapped right back. She didn't bother to conceal her emotions anymore. The hue died away completely, and their hands snapped back into focus. She had won, but it was a twisted, bitter victory.
A nurse stood hesitantly in the doorway for a moment, and Bridget's heart flat lined again. She solemnly started her way across the room, toward Bridget's body. Elizabeth snapped her fingers, agitation apparent in every line of her sharp features, and the nurse froze midway across the room. The monitor ceased its incessant screeching. Zane and Elizabeth were now in their own little world.

"Selfish?" he asked softly, looking up at her with lost eyes. He was far too used to her stopping time by now. It had been neat and wondrous when they were little kids, but they weren't little kids anymore. The years had hardened them both considerably.
"Yes," Elizabeth started. "Do you really think she would want to live in this world without you? Especially knowing she was the cause of your death?"
"Without me?" he repeated in a daze. She knew he was too distraught to understand reason and was just repeating what she said like a mindless robot. She was tired of trying to be gentle. It wasn't working.

She raised her hand and brought it down across his face as tears stung her eyes. He flinched back and brought his hand, that wasn't clasping Bridget's, up to touch his stinging cheek.
"Listen to me!" She said anxiously. Realization slowly came over his face. She didn't know if it was the slap or her pleading tone, but something clicked, bringing her brother back to her. She decided it was safe to continue, "You really think she would want to live in a world without you?" Her eyes searched his, still pleading.
"But..." he began but trailed off. He still couldn't form coherent thoughts let alone sentences.

"There are no buts Zane! You know what would have happened. The only way to bring her back is to exchange your life-force for hers. She would have woken up to find you dead on her pillow, and that's if it even worked. You could sacrifice your life and still accomplish nothing. The consequences of it actually working, would be even worse! Best case scenario she would have to live the rest of her life knowing she is the reason you're dead. Do you really think she could do that?"
His head sank in defeat, and he sobbed quietly on the side of Bridget's bed, moaning her name into the sheets. Elizabeth knelt next to him and gathered him up in her thin arms. She rubbed soothing circles on his back and laid her head on his broad shoulder. She didn't know how much longer she could stay strong for him.

"Shhhh," she cooed. She almost told him everything was going to be alright, but the thought disgusted her. Nothing was alright. Bridget was dead, and there were no words she could say to make it any less painful. She just sat there holding his shaking form, and continued rubbing soothing circles on his back.
The monitor pealed out once again causing Zane to flinch into Elizabeth's shoulder and cry that much harder. The nurse, who had started walking again, looked from where Elizabeth kneeled now to where she had stood before time had frozen confused, and then shook her head muttering that she needed to switch to decaf.
"I really need to watch that," Elizabeth mumbled angrily to herself. She had to be more careful.

The nurse checked Bridget's pulse, just to make sure, and then shut off the monitor. The noise may have stopped, but it still resounded in Zane's ears, a testament to his failure to keep her safe. A couple of other nurses came in, and suggested politely that Zane and Elizabeth should probably wait outside. There was pity in her eyes as she ushered them out the door. Bridget's death was not a surprise to the nurses; she had been on life support and in a coma for two months. It was only a matter of time.
Elizabeth steered Zane out the door and into the deserted waiting room. For good measure, to assure they would not be disturbed, she snapped her fingers, and time stopped again. She was still just a little tired from the last time. She knew she wouldn't be able to keep this up for longer than maybe twenty minutes before she needed to rest, but she didn't want Zane to be bothered right now. People annoyed him on a good day. He wasn't the patient type.

He looked up at her with an expression of complete vulnerability, his normally focused and unreadable mask gone. His eyes were puffy and red from his crying, and tears still slid silently down his cheeks. She affectionately wiped his curly, mahogany hair out of his eyes like she hadn't done since they were little children and smiled at him weakly. There was that urge again to tell him things were going to be ok. Is that all anyone says in a situation like this? She wracked her brain for something, anything, to say to his angelic face, if just to break the silence that stretched like an emotional trench between them. She kissed his forehead, like a mother would a child who scraped their knee in a bike wreck, and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Tell me everything is going to be alright," he said softly to her with an emotion Elizabeth couldn't quiet place in his eyes. She started to object but he cut her off, "I know it's not Sis, but I want to pretend it's going to be." His deep voice shook.
He tried to dry his tears and be strong for his sister, but seeing his own pain mirrored in her eyes just made him feel twice as worse.
"Fine," she said defeated. "Everything is going to be alright." She knew she was talking more to herself than him when she said it, "Everything is going to be alright..." She held him tighter to her. "Everything is going to be alright..." She was really trying to convince herself, but she had always been extraordinarily stubborn.

She felt the reality of it all like a vice grip wrapping tighter and tighter around her heart. She leaned her head on his shoulder in a stupor, and he laid his on top of hers wrapping his strong, soothing, safe arms around her. Bridget was dead. Elizabeth felt the hot tears she'd tried to hold back finally spill over the edge of her eyes to run down her cheeks. They sat there crying together as the hospital resumed its pace around them.