That day turned into night, and the next day went the same. His brothers and parents visiting, Jinger’s parents trading off with him so they could all shower and change. Jinger’s sisters both called and they would lay the phone near her ear so they could talk to her, plead for her to wake up. They both wanted to come out, but her parents urged them to wait until she woke up and visit then. Like making plans for a future with her awake would somehow make it happen.
Wyatt couldn’t sleep, he’d doze off but only in the waiting room when he knew her parents were watching her. When he told them he was going home to sleep, he really just let his bear out and they’d run to exhaustion before returning to the hospital.
The third day turned into the fourth, with the doctors telling them the same things. She’ll wake up or she won’t. They weren’t very encouraging after the first forty-eight hours. They had even started talking about making plans to move her to a rehab facility once her abdominal surgery healed. Like she was taking up precious space in their hospital and there was no reason to keep her there if she wasn’t going to wake up.
Luckily Cage had been there when Wyatt lost his shit on the doctors. He had to be held back and was threatened with being banned if he didn’t calm down.
The doctors tried to explain that they were just planning for the future and they needed to do these things for all coma patients. They weren’t telling them there wasn’t a chance, just that the odds weren’t good.
Wyatt didn’t hear them, he just heard them saying she was a lost cause and there was no hope.
Jinger’s fourth night in the hospital found Wyatt sitting beside her. One of the night nurses had brought in a stool from the reception desk that was tall enough that Wyatt could lie across her lap without too much trouble. He liked being able to feel her body under him and hoped the weight of him made Jinger feel safer on some level.
In fact it did, Jinger was floating, in and out of the darkness. She was scared and felt cold, she was lost and didn’t know how to get back to where she was. The fog was so thick in her mind it was too tiring to fight so she’d give in and take shelter in the quiet.
Occasionally she’d hear voices in the distance. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, and she was too tired to respond, but she heard them. Sometimes the cold would fade, and a heaviness would fall over her consciousness. It was comforting, it made her feel safe and loved. Those times the fog seemed to thin and the voices sounded closer. But then it would leave and she’d be back to the icy void.
She couldn’t remember what happened, snippets of being with Wyatt would flash through her mind when the heaviness came. She liked Wyatt. No, it was more than that. She needed Wyatt and she didn’t understand why he’d left her in the dark. That didn’t seem like something he’d do. Maybe he didn’t know where she was? She had to try and find him in the fog, he must be there waiting for her. She was sure of it.
Wyatt had dozed off with his head nestled on her thighs. He was dreaming about his Jinger. She was lost in the woods and he was trying to find her. She was calling out to him but every time he ran towards her voice she wouldn’t be there. His bear was frustrated and growling at him to find her, she was in danger and needed them.
Wyatt woke with a start sitting upright. He looked at Jinger to see her eyes still closed, no sign of life. He glanced to her monitors as he’d taken to doing, knowing now what her vitals looked like.
He saw her heart rate and blood pressure were slightly elevated, the monitor for the pressure in her brain was showing a lower reading. He was about to turn and tell the nurse there was a change when something stopped him. Out of the corner of his eye he swore he saw her finger twitch. It might be his mind playing tricks on him, so he stared harder. Nothing.
“Jinger? Baby? Move your finger for me, just a little wiggle. Let me know you can hear me,” he begged.
Jinger heard a voice in the distance, who was it? It sounded nice, caring. It gave her that warm feeling. Her mind searched for the voice, wading through the thickness to find it.
“Gingersnap, just give me something, any sign you can hear me,” his eyes darting from her face to that little finger.
Jinger heard that deep voice and she thought it said finger. That was weird. Why would the warm voice talk about her fingers? Just thinking about it, Jinger thought hard about her hands. Could they feel anything? The fog didn’t feel like anything. She stretched her hand out in the darkness and tried moving each finger against the smoke.
Not until her little finger did it feel like she brushed up against something. Fabric of some kind, it was rough under the pad of her finger. She brushed it again to make sure. Yes, there was something there. The warm voice was getting louder, each time she tested that little finger.