Rating: PG

Summary: Morphine dreams. Mom. Dad. Kelly. Happy Birthday.

Spoilers: Nope.
 

MICHAEL:

Dad's here. Kelly's here.

I'm not. I know I'm in the hospital, sort of, but it's kind of unreal. It's like I know my body is here, but I'm watching it from somewhere else.

Weird.
 

ALLY:

We all make a quick stop to see Frohike and Kelly; Michael's still down for the count and he probably doesn't need a party in his room right now. Even if it is his birthday in a few hours.

And I'm crabby and hungry as hell and I can't smoke and being here is not improving my disposition.

Thank God Joan is home now. I swore if I had to do one more hospital visit, complete with Langly's godawful nephew, I was going to scream.

Langly wraps a long arm over my shoulders and pulls me in close to him. He's been very affectionate this week.

"You okay?" He asks me.

"I'm starving."

"Italian?"

"I can do Italian."

"Even with no beer?"

"Langly, Jesus, I should still be able to have a beer!"

"You're not supposed to."

Oh Christ. We haven't even been accepted as candidates yet, and he's on my case about this?!

Am I supposed to have no vices?!

Hey, for me to give up cigarettes was major torture, and it's not over yet. Okay, it's getting easier...most of the time.

Except for times like this when we make unexpected detours.

We haven't told Miranda what's up, but I think she's suspicious. She knows I wouldn't willingly give up smoking for no reason...and I think tonight, we'd better come clean with her.

I'm not looking forward to this. She is likely to react badly to it.

Not that I blame her. I recall being, well, distressed upon hearing the news that I would be an older sister again at the age of 17. And I'd had two siblings in between.

And usually I so look forward to dinner out.
 

"Hey, 'Randa, how'd you feel about a brother or sister?" Langly asks her.

Uh-oh. Bad presentation, and he realizes it. She's shooting daggers at him.

"Why, are you adopting?" She's almost sneering. "Mom can't have kids anymore, you know that."

"Actually...we are trying to be accepted into the in vitro program at Georgetown," I tell her nervously.

She eyes us very suspiciously. "I had a feeling something was up when Mom went to the patches."

"Well, what do you think?" I ask her, and my unease permeates my every word. God, if I ever needed a cigarette, the time is now.

She's quick, and she shoots from the hip. You don't get a lot of contemplation from Miranda.

"I don't know why you're even bothering. It's not gonna happen."

Langly looks incredibly annoyed with her. "And where'd you get your MD?"

She shrugs. "I didn't. But it's not gonna happen. I know it."

"Why, were you planning some sort of sabotage?" He's teasing her, but only half-heartedly. I think he's really mad at her now.

"I don't have to. It's not gonna work. Mom's too old." She grabs a slice of garlic bread.

"Hey, and what if it does?" Langly can throw cold water on her just as effectively as she can on him.

She raises her perfectly shaped eyebrows. "It won't."

"They haven't turned us down yet...and if we're accepted, we're going to pursue it," I warn her.

"Hey, I still don't think it'll work. Sorry. I just don't." She looks a little too smug for my liking.

"Miranda...what if it does, and we do get pregnant?" I say it very quietly.

She rolls her eyes. "You're serious. You're really gonna go through with this."

"Yes. We are."

"I still say, not gonna happen."

It's going to be hopeless to reason with her right now.

We finish dinner a lot more quickly than usual.
 

"Well, that was certainly helpful," Langly says sarcastically after Miranda vanishes into the dungeon to most likely get on the phone and bitch to her girlfriends. Jesse is out of town with his parents this weekend, and she's probably annoyed at him as well as us.

"I told you she wouldn't like it."

"Not liking it, I could deal with that. But she's so damn sure of everything, and I mean, where does she get off?"

I shrug. I'm uneasy by the whole course of events.

I've learned not to overlook Miranda's intuition, and her prediction is so chilling in its certainty.

"Look, she obviously doesn't want to deal with the matter right now. Eventually, if it does come to pass, she'll have to."

He frowns for a moment. "I guess...I don't really wanna think it won't work, Ally. I'm not sure I can deal with that."

I'm not sure I can, either, but it's a very real possibility...still, we need to even be accepted before we can start arriving at any sort of conclusions.

"Hey, hopefully, we do a few treatments, you'll be a father by this time next year."

Once again, I pulled the grin out, like a rabbit out of a hat.
 

MICHAEL:

March 2, 2001

I feel like I died and went to hell.

Last night I was just out of it and it was okay.

Today...I feel like I got run over by a semi.

I've got a horrible taste in my mouth, my hand's all puffy, I feel queasy and my abs are killing me.

Other than that, I'm fine.

It has to be early. Dad and Kelly are asleep in the chairs in my room.

I wish I had my glasses at least so I could friggin' see.

And trying to sit up...Jesus Christ. I've got muscles where I never knew I did. Shit!

I look down under the smock and see a large chunk of gauze. Okay, this must be where I got cut. Do I want to see it or don't I?

I pull on the tape a little-I decide real fast I don't.

I really could use some help here.

I'm about to call Dad when I hear some footsteps coming in to the room. One of the nurses? I can't see around the corner.

It's a nurse, but not just any nurse...oh fuck, it's Mom.

Dad went and called her again.

"Michael?" She says it, not loud. "Are you awake?"

"Uh-huh. Hi, Mom."

At least she doesn't try and touch me. First thing she does is check the monitor I'm rigged up to.

"You seem to be doing all right...fever's a little high. How do you feel?"

"Like shit."

That probably pissed her off, she doesn't like my mouth, but too bad. I didn't ask for her to be here.

Goddamn my dad. I better never get sick again. Believe me, I'm motivated.

"Happy Birthday, baby," she says to me.

Oh fuck. It's my birthday.

And I'm having such a wonderful time. Not.

"Jan. You're here." My dad's waking up now. He rises up to greet her.

He doesn't touch her in any way, but he's trying to show her some respect by standing up when she comes in. I have no idea why; it's not like she shows him any.

But this time she doesn't scream at him or say something nasty. She just says hi to him, thanks him for calling.

"Michael?" She asks me. "Who's your friend here?"

"Uh...that's Kelly. My girlfriend." Kelly's still asleep. I wonder how long she stayed up last night.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend."

"You didn't ask."

Can someone bring me some painkillers, please?

"Dad...can I have my glasses?" I really want to look at Kelly. If I look at her, I might feel better.

"In your backpack?"

"Uh-huh."

He opens the cupboard and pulls out my backpack which contains most of my life. He starts rummaging through it.

"Glasses are in the front pocket," I tell him. I keep all my eye stuff in there.

Actually, I'm sort of glad he has to look, because it means he never goes through my stuff.

He hands them to me and I pop them on. And get a good look at my mom.

She looks like she came straight from work. She's still got her hair up, wearing her scrubs and her tennies.

"Those look new," she comments about my glasses.

"They are." Nice of her to notice.

"They look good on you."

Wow. My mom gives me a compliment.

Only took her 25 years.

Now that I'm not so myopic, I can see Kelly starting to stretch. She's gonna be awake in a moment.

Looks like she pulled all the clips out of her hair and it's going everywhere.

She's so gorgeous, it makes my heart burst.

"Hi," she yawns. She notices there's another person in the room. "Are you the day nurse?" She looks at my mom.

I expect my mom to get pissed off, but she just says no, she's a nurse but not in this hospital.

"Oh, you're Michael's mom," she recalls. "Hi."

She met my mom the last time, but my mom didn't even notice she existed.

Mom looks over at Dad and says she wants to see my chart, so she's gonna go to the nursing station.

Dad ruffles up my hair, asks me how I'm doing, I tell him I died and they just forgot to bury me. He says he's gonna get some coffee for my mom and Kelly and him.

It's just Kelly and me right now. Kelly comes and sits right beside me, takes my good hand, and leans over and kisses me. Which really has to be gross, I haven't brushed my teeth since yesterday morning and I tossed my cookies I don't know how many times. But she kisses me anyway. And it feels really nice and soft and warm.

I'm real tired. I hurt like crazy.

When can a guy get some drugs around here?

Mom comes back in and boy is she pissed.

But for a change, not at me.

"I don't believe this! They prescribed two milligrams morphine for post-surgical pain, and you ought to be getting four! No wonder you feel so awful." She grabs for the phone. "I'm paging the surgeon NOW." And she's a real bitch on the phone.

Still, if she can get me some decent drugs...

"Mom, I feel sick," I tell her.

"Didn't they give you some 7-up?"

"No."

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What kind of low-rent place is this? Kelly," she grabs her purse and pulls out some change. "Get him some 7-up. Please."

Kelly looks like she's a little afraid of my mom. That's okay. Most people are.

Hey, my mom did say please to her. Which is more than she does to most people.

Mom actually sits down on the edge of my bed. Oh God, she better not lay a hand on me.

She doesn't. She doesn't really do anything.

"Lousy way to turn 25, isn't it?" She finally says.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, your surgeon better show up soon, or I'll be talking to the chief resident, and there'll be hell to pay. HMOs, I'm telling you. They think they'll save money by cutting back on pain meds. Ridiculous."

I bet my mom can scare the chief resident. Rumor has it all her nurses are scared of her, and most of the doctors she works with.

Her kids are scared of her, that's for sure.

The surgeon must have known this, he shows up a few minutes later.

"Is there a problem? I was paged."

"There certainly is," Mom's going after him with her heavy artillery. "What do you mean by prescribing only 2 milligrams morphine after abdominal surgery? He should be getting 4 for at least 24 hours!"

"Are you an MD?" He's not too happy with Mom.

"I'm the boy's mother, and I'm an MSN, so I know from where I speak! Now I suggest you change your orders immediately."

The surgeon's a fairly tall guy, his tag says Mark Belmont, and he looks like you could feel safe with him in a dark alley. Mom's barely 5'2".

Mom has the shit scared out of him.

The guy mumbles something about he'll change it right away.

"And he needs a dose, NOW," Mom tells him sharply.

"I'll have the nursing staff take care of it right away." He scampers out like some poor scared rabbit.

Kelly comes back, hands my mom a can of Sprite-"sorry, it's a Coca-Cola place-" Mom says it's fine, and she pours me some.

Christ, I was real thirsty. And it does help my stomach a little. My mouth still feels like shit, but at least I've got an alternate flavor going on there.

"Kelly. You've been here a long time. Go home for a while and rest. Then come back and I'll take you to lunch." Mom makes this clear it's not a request, it's an order.

Kelly gets this look of total terror on her face.

She's not the only one feeling like that.

Oh God. My mom and my girlfriend, going out to lunch together.

This is a terrifying concept.

But a couple minutes later, one of the nurses from this hospital brings in a syringe which I hope is pain stuff, sticks it into my IV...

And a couple minutes after that, I'm feeling not so awful.

I'm just sleepy now.

I sort of notice Dad coming back. He must have brought Mom some coffee.

"Extra cream. I see you remembered," she tells Dad. "Thank you."

At least she's being polite to him.

"Happy Birthday, Michael," Dad tells me.

"Thanks." I'm just doing a fade here.

"Let him sleep, Mel," Mom tells him.
 

Morphine gives you weird dreams.

I dream that my mom and dad are laughing about something. I can't figure out what it is, but they're not screaming at each other.

So it's real weird when I wake up later-I have no clue how long time is taking right now, it could be a few minutes, or a few days for all I know-and I freak when I hear my mom and dad laughing.

Not loud, strong laughing, but sort of friendly. In a way.

And they talk like they're strangers, not people who got married and had two kids together.

I guess they are strangers these days.

Maybe that's better. They don't seem like they hate each other's guts as much.

I don't know why this makes me feel better, but it does.

The way they talk, it's like when you meet someone on an airplane. It's sort of funny to think of your parents talking like that.

Particularly when you're strung out on heavy narcotics.

"Kelly." I don't see Kelly.

"She's supposed to meet me back here at noon," Mom says. "I sent her home. Remember?"

Vaguely.

"Mel, you ought to go home for a while. You've been up most of the night." Mom's back in her usual bossy mode.

"You drove down here. You were up all night as well," he tells her.

"I'm fine, Mel. Now go."

"How about I go when you and Kelly get back?"

"Fine." She turns to me. "Michael, are you feeling any better?"

Well, I don't hurt so much.

"Uh-huh."

"Good. Fever's down, too."

Whatever. I wanna go back to sleep...
 

I wake up later, again, and this time it's quiet in my room, it's just Dad.

"Where's Mom?"

"Took Kelly to lunch."

"WHAT?!" This jolts me back to reality a little.

"She told you she was taking her earlier. Well, she told Kelly, but you
were right here."

Oh Christ.

I'll be lucky if Kelly will ever even speak to me after this, a close encounter of the mother kind.

"Dad...I need some more pain stuff."

Dad buzzes the staff, they come after a while, and shoot me up again.

And I don't care about anything for a while...
 

Peace and quiet turns into history not too long later. Here comes the guests.

Ally and Langly and Miranda show up, bearing packages...that's right, it's my birthday.

They bring cool presents, lots of CDs and videos, including Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner, the Classic Chase.

"So Junior. How're you hanging?" Langly asks me.

About all I can do is groan.

"Look at it this way, Junior. Nobody made you make a donation yesterday."

"Huh?" I'm confused.

"Never mind," Ally says loudly. "I suppose it's tacky to wish you a happy birthday in these circumstances, but Happy Birthday, anyway." She leans over and gives me a birthday kiss on the cheek.

"So Junior? You gonna show us your scar?" Langly's hassling me again. Leave it to that asshole to show no mercy.

"Not to you, fuckrag."

He laughs. They don't stay long.

"Hope you feel better," Miranda says as they bail out.

Wow. Even Miranda was polite.

She and my mom in one day. This is almost more than I can handle.

Or maybe it's the drugs and I'm just imagining all this.

I don't care about the distinction right now.
 

I fall asleep in there, and sometime after that, the prof and Juliet show up, bringing more gifts. It's mostly clothes, true, but I need some desperately. Most of my jeans are ready to disintegrate. And they replace a couple pairs of them, from the Gap, so it's decent stuff.

Prof asks me how I'm doing, do I want them to stay? I say it's up to him.

He says he remembers when it happened to him, he woke up and the worst part was, he was all alone.

God. That would've really sucked.

At least I had people around me.

People who care about me.

And finally I realize it.

END OF PART 74