Deb stood in the door behind him, watching silently. She wanted desperately
to help, but knew instinctively that Ryan was the last person who would ask
for it or accept it if it were offered. Jade, battered Jade, was the center
of his universe and nobody else existed for him at that moment.

"Little ferret lookin' bastard's comin'," Bill murmured quietly to her.

Deb's attention was diverted, and she charged the young physician, leaving
Ryan alone with Jade.

"Ms. Riordan?" she questioned, as she did at least once every day.

"No change, Mrs. Strannix." She felt a finger jab into her ribs and
responded with a firm stomp of her moccasin on his booted foot. I'll
explain later.

"No worse?"

"No, no worse. No better, but no worse, either.  We've had her in the
medically induced coma for the past two days and we're going to start
reducing the amount of the medication, in hopes that she'll wake up."

"Hopes?" Deb demanded. "Just what do you mean by that? You're not sure?"

"There's ample brain activity, Mrs. Strannix. What we're afraid of at this
point is the stress consciousness will place on her. She's going to be in a
fair amount of pain until we can determine just what's what, and we're not
sure how much her system will be able to stand."

Bill's hand, firm on her shoulder, was about the only thing standing
between Dr. Kildare and eternity. The doctor was being vague as they always
were when they had no answers and nothing to offer but nebulous hope.

"She's held on this long.  Every day we support her is one more day she
won't need to support herself."

Dr. Ferret turned away, found Jade's chart and began to read over the
nurse's notes from the past hours. Deb stood, seething, starting at his
mousy brown head, unable to find the words to go after him. Bill drew her
away. At first she resisted, but there was no denying his strength and she
followed him when he walked back to the door of the room. They found Ryan
sitting where they had left him, motionless, his forehead still against the
rail, her hand still cradled in his.

"Tonight I lay me down to sleep on your side of the bed..." Deb murmured.

"What's that, baby?"

"But it's no use, the sheets take your form..."

Bill gently poked her in the ribs again. "Huh?"

Deb turned her face into his shoulder. "John Hiatt. Jade got me into
him...one of his songs called Love In Flames. Words are out of context,
but..." She sighed and closed her eyes. She knew how Ryan felt at that
moment, the rage and the helplessness and the loneliness and the need, the
terrible need.

Bill's arms circled her waist, for once he declined the opportunity to
squeeze the breath out of her. "What's this Mrs. Strannix bullshit? Wishful
thinkin'?"

"They made an assumption. If it means they talk to me, I won't disabuse
them. I went through that when you were here and I couldn't get them to
tell me a damn thing unless Sam was with me. If someone doesn't get the
information conventionally, Ryan will go postal on them and then nobody
will know a thing. 'Sides...you did it down in San Saba."

She felt his face move and figured he must be wearing that impish grin of
his. "Damn...did, didn't I? Mrs. Dawg...forgot all about that. Wanted to 
make sure you weren't gonna get..."

"I'm not getting anything more than thirsty right now.  Hold on a sec and
we can go find the cafeteria and get some synthetic water or something..."
She stepped quietly across to Ryan, laid a hand on a shoulder that felt
like marble. "Ryan...can we get you something to drink...Ryan?" She shook
him slightly to get his attention.

"Tea."

"Okay. We'll be back in a bit." She smoothed back the wild hair, leaned
over to kiss his temple briefly, then slipped out.

The day passed slowly, as all the days in the hospital did.  Bill came and
went, unable to bear the inactivity.  Deb wasn't allowed in the room as
long as Ryan was there and Ryan wasn't about to be moved, so she lurked in
the halls, waylaid the doctor, ran food and drink back and forth to the
motionless figure beside the big bed.  She was the one who learned that
Jade's vital signs were slowly deteriorating.  She was the one who was
told the chances of Jade surviving the night were decreasing.  And she was
the one who decided that Ryan was not to be told, because he probably
already knew.  It was after ten when Bill came for the last time, and
made her leave.

"Aingeal… wee aingeal…" His voice was a pained whisper. If it took
eternity, by her side is where he would be. There was nothing in the world
but the soft skin in his hands, the cold metal railing against his hot
forehead… he studied the fingers of the hand he held, the white fingers,
the rounded nails, the bruise on her wrist…

He squeezed his eyes shut and listened to the noises in the room, in the
hallway, but tried to focus on the things that had always given him solace.
Her heartbeat, her breath, her voice. Not the beeping nor the machine that
helped her breathe, but the basic things inside of her that had given him
life.

And with that, he found her.

Ryan… I love you. I'm here and I love you.

"Jade. Come back to me."

I am trying… I am… reach out to me… hold out your hand.

The nurse walking by in the hall stopped and watched as the big Irishman,
raised his head, his eyes closed, and stretched out his long arm, held it
across the bed as if wanting to shake the hand of a person on the opposite
side. But from her vantage point, she could see no one in there.

He felt her fingertips gently brush his own. He stretched farther, the
chair under him squeaking.

The nurse stepped inside, was about to speak, when she heard him murmur
something under his breath.

"Aingeal, once more… please… I am here…"

An alarm went off on the respirator, and the nurse made her way hurredly
around the bed. Ms. Riordan had been doing poorly all day long, and quite
seriously the nurses had been waiting for her to give up altogether. She
had expected to find that she would have to adjust the flow on the machine
to allow more oxygen. Instead, she found something stranger than that.

Jade seemed to be breathing on her own, much stronger than an hour
before. She shook her head and squinted at the dials. Yet, it was true. The
alarm was indicating that she was fighting the machine, albeit weakly.

"Jade?"

She turned at the sound of Ryan's cracking voice. The woman stared up at
him with deep green eyes. Tears ran down his face, and a smile as broad as
the morning sun shone upon the small form in the bed.

The nurse left to find the doctor. When they both returned, Ryan was still
there, holding her hand. They were staring at each other as young lovers
would, words unspoken between them. After checking assorted monitors, Dr.
Ferret stepped to Ryan's side.

"I believe we can remove the respirator…"

The curtain around Jade's bed was pulled and the terrible noise stopped.  
Next, an orderly whisked the ugly machine away.
 
"Could I see you for a moment, in the hallway?"

Ryan smiled up to him and cheerfully stepped out into the hall when asked.
In a few short minutes, the doctor joined him.

"Mr. Riordan..."  His voice was grave, but there was a glimmer of hope
there that Ryan hadn't seen previously.  "The medication seems to be
helping.  We're keeping her as comfortable as possible..."

Ryan didn't like the sound of that.

"Since she has regained conciousness, the next twenty-four hours will be
crucial.  We... ask that you keep visitations to 15 minutes every six
hours... the stress..."

His heart sank, but he reminded himself of Jade's eyes, her emerald eyes,
gazing up at him with more than love in them.  

"Aye, I can do that..."  

"It's merely for her own well being.  I hope you understand."

"May I...?"  He gestured towards the room.

"Sure.  Just remember, keep it brief."

Ryan nodded. There was no need to warn him twice. He approached the bed,
dodging the nurse, who gave him a strange look, sat down beside Jade again,
and took her hand.  She blinked slowly, her eyes dull with medication,
squeezed his hand, her fingers wrapping around two of his own.  

"Ah, wee one... aingeal..."

"Ryan." Her voice was a hoarse whisper. She smiled.

As Ryan settled in beside her, gratefully, Bill appeared at his elbow, 
out of breath.

"Ryan… there's somethin I need ya for at the house."

He frowned. "Can it not wait?"

Bill, for all the time Ryan had known him, had never looked nervous. When
Ryan realized that the look on Bill's face stemmed from something akin to
fear, he took notice.

"No, it can't… hello, darlin." He smiled at Jade. "You're lookin better."

"Little bit…" She coughed and a monitor went off. The nurse appeared with a
sedative and shooed them out.

The hallway. "What is going on?"

"A device, Gaerity. At the house. Almost walked into it…"

"Shite."

"Exactly."

When Ryan arrived at the house, Bill pointed out the front door.  At first
look, there was nothing wrong.  But the door was open a crack, and Ryan
peered inside.  There was a nest of wires and batteries right inside the
door frame, the brightly colored wires leading all the way around the door.
He examined it for a few moments, then to Bill and Deb's shock, he stood
up and abruptly kicked the heavy oak door open.   

Nothing happened.

"Feckin' whelp tried to scare ye, William. Appears he was successful."

An alarm clock, set apart from the door, caught Ryan's eye.  It's case was
cracked.  Before he could touch it, the device started buzzing cheerfully. 
He grabbed it and flung it into the yard, where it exploded.  Deb nearly
peed herself.

"What the holy fuck was that????"  Bill's usual restrained understatement.
He *knew* what it was, but he hadn't been expecting it to come in the
guise of Deb's spare alarm.

"No time. William, check the house for anything. *ANYTHING* strange."

Ryan started around the side of the house, then turned back to Deb.

"Stay. Put. We dont need ye walkin into something that gets your arse
blown into wee pieces."

TO BE CONTINUED...

Jacque Whitworth, 1999

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