Hanging up quickly, he sprang to his feet and flipped on the light switch. Yanking jeans, shirt, and socks from bureau drawers, he dressed quickly, still stomping his feet down into his boots as he raced for the door. {This can't be happening. Carolyn had no trouble at all when she had Katie. Dying? Paul must be wrong!}

When he arrived at the hospital scant minutes later, one look at the devastated expression on his foster father's face shook Peter to the very core of his existence.

"Peter!" Paul grabbed the younger man's arm with crushing force. "Peter, do you know where your father is?"

"Pop? N-no. He hasn't been around in over a week. How's Carolyn? What did you mean when you called?"

"What did I mean?" Paul was nearly wild with grief. "I mean my little girl is dying and the doctors aren't helping her!"

Annie had risen from her seat and gently touched Paul's arm. "They're doing everything they can, Paul. You know that."

"It's not enough, dammit! It's not enough!" He jerked his arm away from Annie's hand and stormed off across the room, muscles in his jaw twitching.

"Mom? What happened? Carolyn? Has she had her baby? What...?"

Annie bit her lip briefly, and removed her sunglasses to wipe at the tearstains on her face. "Everything seemed to be going fine. She delivered a little boy about an hour ago. A fine, healthy son. But then she-she started hemorrhaging, and she has something called disseminated intravascular coagulation."

"What's that?" Peter felt a growing knot of dread in his stomach as he watched Paul march down the hospital corridor to stop and stand before a window in the ICU unit, pressing his palms and face up against the glass.

"It's-it's a serious bleeding disorder. She didn't deliver the placenta right away, and it caused her to bleed excessively. The doctors told us that Carolyn's blood clotting mechanisms were activated throughout her whole body, instead of just in the uterus. Small blood clots formed throughout, and pretty soon all her blood clotting factors were used up and not available where she needed it. So..." She took a deep steadying breath and quavered, "They're trying to control the bleeding, but they have to give her heparin to prevent her blood from clotting, so they have to keep her from bleeding to death before the rest of their treatment starts to have an effect."

"What-what did Paul mean when he said that she was dying?"

"The doctors warned us that 50 to 80 percent of patients with DIC die. I-I think Paul is simply preparing himself for the worst, so if it happens..."

Peter tugged her into his arms and held her tightly, the petite blonde woman dwarfed by his size. "That's not going to happen, Mom. We're not going to let it." He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and rested his cheek against the top of her head. "Where's Todd?"

"He's in the nursery with the baby. The doctors told him the baby needed to bond with a parent, so he's been in the nursery ever since. If she keeps getting worse, they're going to send for him so he can be with her if she...if she..."

"Mrs. Blaisdell? Peter?"

Peter turned to face the familiar voice. "Dr. Albin. I-I didn't know you were Carolyn's doctor, too."

"I'm not. Her regular OB is on vacation for a week. Carolyn wasn't due until next week." Albin's brown eyes were dark with sorrow and compassion. "I-I'm afraid the news isn't very good. Carolyn isn't responding to treatment the way we hoped. I'm sorry, but I think you'd better call the rest of the family in."

Annie clung to Peter, unable to speak.

Albin asked gently, "Can you call your priest?"

Paul interrupted angrily. "The only priest who could do us any good doesn't have a God-damned phone and is never around when you need him!" His face was ravaged with pain and grief.

"That's not fair, Paul, and you know it!" Peter's voice was sharper than he intended it to be.

"What's not fair is for a young woman to die who's barely had a chance to live. What's not fair is for a baby boy never to know his mother's touch! What's not fair is for someone who might have been able to help her to be out gallivanting around somewhere on some mystical journey!"

Peter's arms dropped limply to his sides and he recoiled a step, flinching as if he had been slapped in the face.

"Paul! That's enough!" Annie moved in the direction of Paul's labored breathing and reached out for his hand. "You're upset. We're all upset, but that's no excuse for you to --"

"Never mind, Mom." Wounded hazel eyes misted over and he turned to face Dr. Albin. "Is it...can I...is it all right if I go in to see her first?"

Albin nodded soberly. "I'll take you in."

The two men started off down the corridor, and Paul reached out to Peter as he passed by. "Peter...Son...I..."

Peter looked down at the shaking hand on his arm and then up again to see the warring emotions on Paul's face. "Later. We'll talk later. Now's not the time."

He continued his walk with Dr. Albin without a backward glance at the grieving parents he left behind. When they reached the ICU, Albin cautioned, "Five minutes, Peter, that's all I can give you. Make sure you don't bump her or any of the equipment."

Peter nodded, afraid to trust his voice. He quietly entered the room and stared at the still body of his foster sister. An ICU nurse was busy watching and adjusting the monitors and the flow of blood and IV units, completely ignoring Peter as she focused on her patient.

He stood next to Carolyn's bedside and tenderly stroked the hair at her temple as he spoke to her. "I haven't seen him yet, but Annie told me you have a beautiful baby boy. Congratulations, Little Sister."

Peter addressed the nurse. "Can I hold her hand?"

"Don't hold it too tightly, and don't dislodge the IV needle."

Following his orders, he gently clasped Carolyn's hand in his, a touch so soft it wouldn't have ruffled the down on a baby chick. "I-I keep trying to think of what my father would say at a time like this. Not our father, but my father." He swallowed hard and made a feeble attempt to laugh. "Re-remember that time I dented the car, and you told Paul that you did it, because you didn't want me to get into trouble? I-I've never forgotten that. No matter how much we used to fight about things, I knew you were always there for me. Always."

He laid his free hand on the top of her head and caressed her forehead with his thumb. "I'm here for you now, Carolyn. Are you listening? I don't care what anybody says, I'm not going to let you give up. You've always been a fighter, and I've got a few scars to prove it, too."

Leaning his head closer, he whispered in her ear. "Don't let your little boy go through what I did. Don't let him grow up without his mother. Don't you do it!"

He stopped speaking then, closing his eyes as he held Carolyn's limp and lifeless hand in his. The sounds of the bleeping monitors faded, and he suddenly felt himself spinning and falling before being sucked down into a whirlpool. It was black, and cold -- so very cold. The sounds of the monitors and machines keeping his sister alive faded, and there was a dull roaring in his ears, the noise of a hundred waterfalls crashing on his eardrums.

"Peter!"

The voice was thin and weak, and he strained his eyes against the darkness, attempting in vain to see its owner.

"Peter, I'm scared!"

The voice was closer this time, and he vaguely made out Carolyn's form as a whirling vortex swept her body around him in narrowing circles.

"Peter, I'm so tired. I can't keep swimming. I'm so tired."

He reached out and grabbed her as the current carried her past. She clung to his neck frantically, her struggling weight nearly pulling him under. "Carolyn, stop fighting me, and let me carry you!"

His head bobbed under once and he came up sputtering. "Stop fighting me!"

"I'm scared, Peter! I can't keep swimming...I'm so tired...and I'm scared."

"Listen to me! Stop fighting me. Just float...I'll hold you up. You just float until you feel stronger, and then we'll both swim out of here."

"I'm so afraid, Peter. I don't know where I am. I'm so afraid." She fought against him in her terror, climbing up on top of him and sending him under the water again, deeper and for a longer time.

Lungs nearly bursting, he kicked his way to the surface, gasping, "Trust me, Carolyn! Do you trust me to take care of you?"

"I can't. I'm afraid. I'm tired."

"Do you trust me?" He screamed at her as his own strength waned. "Do you?"

"Y-yes. Yes, I trust you."

The roaring grew louder, as if they were being swept toward the hundred waterfalls. Peter kicked desperately in his efforts to keep both their heads above water. "Then float, dammit, Carolyn! Float! Let me pull you back to shore with me. Don't fight me, just float!" Miraculously, she obeyed him, releasing her chokehold on his neck and upper body, and as she did so, he was able to stroke out with one arm and swim them both away from the vortex that threatened to swallow them up.

He could think of nothing else but holding on to his sister and swimming for a shore that he couldn't see or feel. "Just...swim," he panted in a litany matching his strokes. "Just...swim...just...swim."

His arms and legs felt like lead, and he knew if he didn't reach shore soon, he would drown, and so would Carolyn. He'd have to let her go. She was too heavy; she was drowning him. "No!" He gritted out through clenched teeth. "No. I won't let go of her. No!"

Just when he thought he could go no farther, he reached out one last time and, instead of water, felt someone grab his wrist. "Help...us," he gasped. "Help." He felt himself being pulled under the water, his lungs filling as he sank into the black abyss that opened up swallowed him.

To Part 21

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