Several years ago, BirdGo issued a challenge, to write a story where one of the characters is in a coma for more than half the story. The idea kept coming back, until one night, after a series of emails with PaxWolf, I sat down and wrote what came to mind. The end result was something between the two shows, complete with names chosen almost at random. Next day I tidied it up and tried rewriting it for each show. I know which one I prefer, Cathy (who read both but only beta'd her favourite) agrees with me. But I thought I'd let the rest of you see the results as well.

BOTP Being in a coma sucks. I know I'm in a coma because that's what the voices around me say. All I know is I can hear and sometimes feel, but I can't move to save my life. Can't blink. Can't even breathe, and there's a tube down my throat to prove it. Princess seems to be taking it hardest, coming in every day. Mornings and evenings. Things seem to be either gearing up or calming down when she's here. Occupational hazard, both the coma and sitting at the bedside. Feedings fall to Princess. First she says a few words to reassure me, then she turns off the machine in the corner and my chest stops filling and emptying for a moment. Two moments, really, just enough time for me to realize I'm not breathing. I used to wonder at my lack of panic; probably got used to it long ago. I'm also used to her routine cheerfulness when she announces, "Not now? OK. Maybe next time." Like the statement itself is another item on the checklist. Then she takes something large off a tray and tears it open before she comes near. A tube of some type, obviously, because something gets forced up my nose and down my throat. She says to swallow, but my gag reflex always wins out. Somehow, though, it makes it into place. It moves around for a few minutes, sounds of some quick chemical test, and she announces that breakfast, or dinner, is served. The menu sounds suspiciously like the special of the day, but not at Crescent Coral. They never served veal at Crescent Coral. Come to think of it, this place is pretty good. The nurses keep my nails and hair trimmed and even prop me up for visiting hours. Mark is taking it hardest. Blaming himself, of course. Thinking in his gut that there was something he could have done to prevent all this. Thinking he should be setting a better example for his team while I'm here. Sometimes he comes with Princess to the evening feedings. Bored of his guilt, uncomfortable that she's doing all this when he's off doing other things, keeping a life going outside this room. Don't feel that way, Mark. It's her way, not yours. Let her do it, but be there for her when she's ready to move on. Sometimes Mark comes to see me alone, late at night when he can't sleep. He's been doing it for a while, I think, a sort of one-sided conversation spread over several sessions, blurred together in both his mind and mine. He talks to me about his father, and how he still can't forgive him for lying all those years; I think Mark can't forgive himself for not forgiving Cronus. At least Cronus can be proud of him. Fathers shouldn't have to be ashamed of their sons. He talks about Princess, and how she's fixated on him. He's not comfortable with it, but doesn't know how get out of it. Girl just wants a normal life, that's all. Boyfriend, Saturday nights at the movies, someone to giggle about with her girlfriends. He claims he's not interested because of his job, not that she'd be a high-maintenance girlfriend. What neither of them realizes is that heartbreak's also part of a normal life. Keyop is taking it harder than anyone. The kid's too young for this. You shouldn't learn about mortality and frailty till you're an adult, and then it should be a grandparent or a pet, not a teammate who could have been you. Sure, all losses leave holes, but some holes leave smaller gaps in the business of living. When he comes, it's with Princess in the morning. He talks to me like I can respond, or he stands around self-consciously. He tried to help Princess with the feeding once, but the special du jour ended up on the floor when I started gagging. That was pretty funny. Jason is taking it worst of all. For all that he doesn't take orders well, he knows that the team is important. The team let me down. I suppose I let them down as well, but he doesn't think so. He comes to see me alone. Daytime, usually. Normal visiting hours to go by the amount of noise outside my door. Asks me how I've been, then tells me about some change or other, or something he wants to fight management over. They're tightening the reins after losing me. Jason doesn't think he needs those reins, but he's wrong. He needs to learn that his instincts aren't always perfect, and they need to learn to trust those instincts. The others come to talk, Jason comes to listen. Not to me, but to everyone who's so busy giving him advice that they don't give him any time to listen to it. Anderson's taking it hardest of all. He knew this was going to happen and kept going anyways. So many choices, so many things he could have done differently over the years. And not a single one that he'd actually change; each was the best choice given the available data. Or so he has to believe. He drops in when he's already in the building. Usually daytime, but sometimes at night; if at night, he's very tired and knows he'll be up a lot longer yet. Midnight oil doesn't begin to describe him. Like Jason, he comes to listen. He also comes to talk. His entire life is listening to some groups, then giving orders to others, and he never has time to talk and listen to himself. Tiny, yeah, he's taking it hard, too. Doesn't say much any more. At first he was here all the time, screaming at me to wake up, telling me I had a job to do, and just look at the people who were hurting. He doesn't understand. I can't wake up. Even if I did, nothing would be the same. Jason would be flying my bird and impatient that I wouldn't take over -- couldn't take over -- Princess would try to do normal things with me, Mark would hesitate before doing anything, or bull through it, Keyop would act like nothing'd changed and be extra hyper just to prove it, except maybe Anderson, and he'd play along as long as possible. But deep down we'd all know it's all pretend. I'm not the man they need on the team, not anymore. And that's a reality I don't care to face while awake. And Tiny? He'd wonder at this stranger in his body.

Being in a coma sucks. I know I'm in a coma because that's what the voices around me say. All I know is I can hear and sometimes feel, but I can't move to save my life. Can't blink. Can't even breathe, and there's a tube down my throat to prove it. Jun is trying the hardest, coming in every day. Mornings and evenings. Sometimes she arrives before the nurse. She says Hi, then leaves when the nurse arrives. She comes back in once the morning, or evening, routine is finished. I'm pretty sure she's the one who reassembled me in the field, but something about turning off the respirator to check if I'm breathing on my own disturbs her. You'd think it would disturb me, too, not breathing. I used to wonder at my lack of panic; probably got used to it long ago. I'm also used to the nurse's routine cheerfulness when she announces, "Not now? OK. Maybe next time." Like the statement itself is another item on the checklist. Jun tried to help with the feedings once. Stick a tube down my nose and hope I don't gag it up before they get it past the nerve endings. Now she stays outside for that part too. It's a shame I can't taste the food; it sounds better than regular hospital stuff. Come to think of it, this place is pretty good. The nurses keep my nails and hair trimmed and even prop me up for visiting hours. Jun doesn't talk much. When she does it's about the weather and the Snack J and how my boat's been stored for the winter and Joe's latest race. Then she pats my hand and leaves. Occupational hazard, both the coma and sitting at the bedside. Ken is taking it hardest. He's almost apologized a few times for not preventing it; still thinks in his gut there was something he could have done. Sometimes he comes with Jun in the evening. Bored of his guilt, uncomfortable that she's doing all this when he's off doing other things, keeping a life going outside this room. Don't feel that way, Ken. It's her way, not yours. Let her do it, but be there for her when she's ready to move on. Sometimes Ken comes to see me alone, late at night when he can't sleep. He's been doing it for a while, I think, a sort of one-sided conversation spread over several sessions, blurred together in both his mind and mine. He talks to me about his father, and how he still can't forgive him for lying all those years; I think Ken can't forgive himself for not forgiving Kentaro. At least Kentaro can be proud of him. Fathers shouldn't have to be ashamed of their sons. He talks about Jun. We all know he's not interested in her; he talks about whether he'd be interested if things were normal. She's all the things a modern man would want, but Ken's not a modern man, even if he doesn't want to admit it. A traditional wife would be better for him, someone soft to look after the house and welcome him home after a long day, not to mention holding down a job of her own and not minding being on her own for long stretches. Not one who'd expect him to help with the housework while she helped with his job. Jinpei was hit the hardest. The kid's too young for this. You shouldn't learn about mortality and frailty till you're an adult, and then it should be a grandparent or pet. Sure, all deaths leave holes, but some holes leave smaller gaps in the business of living. When he comes, it's with Jun in the morning. He talks to me like I can respond, or he stands around self-conciously. He stayed for the feeding once, but left in the middle. Joe is denying it hardest. We never really hit it off, Joe and I. He was always angry over something. He couldn't just sit back and let others do their jobs. A whole lot of resentment in that man, going to bubble up out of nowhere and bite his ass when he's not expecting it. He comes to see me alone. Daytime, usually. Normal visiting hours to go by the amount of noise outside my door. Asks me how I've been, then tells me about some change or other, or something he wants to fight management over. They're tightening the reins after losing me. Joe doesn't think he needs those reins, but he's wrong. He needs to learn that his instincts aren't always perfect, and management needs to learn to trust those instincts. He also needs to let others do what they're trained for. The others come to talk, Joe comes to listen. He thinks he knows the advice they'd give him, if he dared to tell them what's bothering him. He doesn't like it, but at least he's listening to it. Maybe someday he'll find out what advice they'd really give him. Nambu feels it the hardest. He knew this was going to happen and kept going anyways. So many choices, so many things he could have done differently over the years. And not a single one that he'd actually change; each was the best choice given the available data. Or so he has to believe. He drops in when he's already in the building. Usually daytime, but sometimes at night; if at night, he's very tired and knows he'll be up a lot longer yet. Midnight oil doesn't begin to describe him. Like Joe, he comes to listen. He also comes to talk. His entire life is listening to some groups, then giving orders to others, and he never has time to talk or listen to himself. Ryu, yeah, he's taking it hard, too. Doesn't say much any more. At first he was here all the time, screaming at me to wake up, telling me I had a job to do, and just look at the people who were hurting. He doesn't understand. I can't wake up. Even if I did, nothing would be the same. Joe would be flying my bird but want me to take over, Jun would dance attendance, Ken would laugh like everything was as it was supposed to be, Jinpei would act like nothing'd changed and be extra hyper just to prove it. They'd all pretend that nothing had changed. Except maybe for Nambu, but he'd go along with it as long as he could. But deep down we'd all know it's all pretend. I'm not the man they need on the team, not anymore. And that's a reality I don't care to face while awake. And Ryu? He'd wonder at this stranger in his body.

As always, comments and suggestions are welcome, unless of course you want the same mistakes inflicted on you again. I don't mind things to inflate my ego, either. Cheers! Cricket

Great, Cricket! I like the second one best...just because this seems more like Gatch than BOTP...more edgy. I did notice that in the BOTP one, you said Joe instead of Jason a couple of times. I've only done that a couple of hundred times, myself! I loved these, though, even though I'm an Eagle/ Swan 'shipper, and want Mark/Ken to be interested...LOL Thanks for sharing these!