Whee! Brand new start for Marc and Amy!
I hope this chapter doesn't seem too...rushed...I had so many ideas and things running around in my head that I just couldn't get my fingers to type fast enough. I'm eager to get this chapter up, and to get the webstory back up and running. I've missed it, a lot. :)
Hey, has anyone else noticed how WHACKED UP the LJ cuts are lately?! Geez, someone needs to complain about these! I hope this works out! I'm having to use the HTML format to make a cut for the first time...hope it works...
It didn't...okay, until I figure out how to work these stupid things, I'm just going to post the story here in the text, like the good ol' days...hope that's okay...
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"Alright, Marc," The doctor spoke kindly, knowing Marc was a tad bit nervous. “We're just going to put a little numbing gel on the skin here, and take the stitches out. You won't feel a thing."
Marc nodded. “Whatever you have to do.” He said. “I'll just be glad to get the things out! They itch like crazy!”
The doctor laughed, happy to hear Marc in good spirits. “Tell me about it!” He said. He took the tweezers. “Alright, here we go.”
Marc swallowed and closed his eyes, relaxing. The doctor took out the stitches in his chest and temple one by one, dropping the little black plastic ties into a recycle receptacle beside him. Before Marc knew it, he was finished.
“We're done.” The doctor said, setting down the tweezers. Marc blinked open his eyes and, with a deep breath, looked down at his chest. Where the row of stitches had been was a long, pale scar. It was about a foot long, and Marc shuddered at the memory of how he had sustained the injury. Doris's long claws had stabbed him deep in the chest when he had grabbed her before she could get a hold of Wilbur, cutting a vital artery, which eventually caused him to go into a coma, and then when Dr. Atticus took him into surgery, she had tried to cease the blood flow with a new vaccine. Marc's body had had a strange reaction to the drug, thus resulting in his paralysis. Marc brought a hand up to his right temple, and ran his finger along the thin scar there. It was much smoother than the one on his chest, as the ones used to stitch the cut there were thinner, and made from a clear plastic rather than the black, traditional ones.
He couldn't help but smile. Marc saw the removal of his stitches as another step in his road to recovery, another step into a new life.
“They healed quite nicely,” the doctor said. “There's still some scarring, but nothing big.”
“That's fine.” Marc said as he buttoned up the buttons on his shirt. “So long as they're gone!”
The doctor smiled, and he and a nurse helped Marc back into his wheelchair.
“Alright, you're free to head back to your room.” The doctor said. “I'll see you again in a couple of days for your examination.”
“Thanks, doc.” Marc said as he pulled on the gloves he wore that helped him to maneuver the wheelchair. “I’ll see you then.”
“See you, Marc.”
With that, Marc opened the door and wheeled himself out.
Marc sighed in satisfaction and smiled. A new life. That’s what he had. He had Amy, his stitches were out, and Doris was gone.
What was better, was that he had not had a nightmare in three days.
As he neared his room, he found himself thinking that nothing could go wrong now.
--Later that day—
Amy sighed and smiled as she walked up the pathway towards the Todayland Press headquarters. Finally, she was headed back to work. Maybe things would go back to normal now…
Amy headed towards the back to the employee lounge to sign in. She smiled at her friends Lisa and Trevor as she headed towards the check in machine. She placed her thumb on the scanner, and typed in her password, hitting the space button.
“Hey, Amy, how’s it going?” Trevor asked as Amy walked towards them.
“Pretty good, thanks.” Amy said.
“Fine, I guess.” Amy said, shrugging. “He should have his stitches out today, and his therapy’s going well. From what I’ve heard, he can use his wheelchair like he’s been using one his whole life!”
Lisa smiled and hugged Amy. “That’s great!” She said. “Be sure to tell him hi for me!”
“I will, Lisa, thanks.” Amy said. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I have some pictures to upload and an article to write.” Amy slung her camera backpack onto her shoulder. “See you, guys!”
Amy walked out of the lounge into the busy, bustling room full of office cubicles. Locating hers, Amy plopped herself down in her chair and turned on her computer, noting how…right it felt to be back.
She picked up her camera bag and pulled out her camera, taking out the memory card and placing it in the reader next to her computer. A pop up instantly came to life on her screen, indicating the pictures were being uploaded to her files.
After they were finished, Amy began to sift through them, deleting any blurry ones or ones with the backs of peoples heads in it, something her yearbook teacher, Mrs. Hannah, had always told her to avoid “at the cost of your life.” Mrs. Hannah had been a bit harsh, especially with her infamous “Eyebrows of Doom,” which you got whenever you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, like checking your email in class, but she was fun, and had been Amy’s favorite teacher. She most definitely owed her for all the tips and lessons with a camera she had given her.
Amy then came across one she was not expecting.
It was of her and Marc in Marc’s hospital room. She was sitting beside him, her face facing the camera. She held his hand in hers, and she was looking down at him as he gazed back at her. They were both smiling lovingly at one another, and from the bandages around his chest and stitches still in Marc’s temple, Amy could tell it was from when Marc had just gotten hurt.
“Who could have…” Amy started to ask herself before she clicked on another picture, revealing it to be Wilbur making a funny face. “Wilbur Robinson, you little sneak.” She said, smiling and shaking her head. “What are we going to do with you?”
Amy quickly saved the picture to her own personal files, and added it as her background. There was something about this picture…something that made her smile. Not that it was a picture of her and the man she planned to marry soon, but in the picture, Marc seemed…happy. She could see, even though it was only a photograph, that Marc’s face was not that of the haunted man he had been before, but of the man she knew and had fallen in love with, the comical, happy Marc.
Amy smiled at the picture one last time before she opened her article and began to type away.
She was almost finished with it before she felt someone’s eyes on her, and she turned around to find her boss, Mr. Wittmore, standing behind her.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Wittmore!” Amy said cheerily. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m fine, Amy, just fine.” The elderly Mr. Wittmore said. “How are you?”
“Not doing too bad.” Amy said. “Is there something wrong? Do you need anything?”
Mr. Wittmore shook his head. “No, Amy, I just came to tell you welcome back.”
“It’s good to be back, sir.” Amy said.
“You were sorely missed!” Her boss went on. “And how is that boy of yours doing?”
“Marc is fine, Mr. Wittmore. He’s finally getting used to being in a wheelchair, and he had his stitches removed today, I think.” Amy answered.
“I wanted to say thanks for giving me all that time off. You really didn’t have to.” Amy said.
Mr. Wittmore smiled. “It was no trouble, Amy. Consider it your vacation for the past ten years. You’ve been working here since you were fresh out of college, and never once have you called in sick or taken more than a week’s vacation. You deserve it.”
“Thank you, sir.” Amy said, blushing slightly at the compliment.
“Well now, I think I’ll leave you to your work.” Mr. Wittmore said. “Goodbye, Amy.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Wittmore.” Amy said.
Suddenly, just as Mr. Wittmore was about to turn and walk out of the cubicle, Lisa came running in, a newspaper clenched in her hand.
“Amy!” She said, slightly breathless. “Amy!”
“What is it, Lisa?” Amy asked. “What’s wrong?”
Lisa held out the newspaper. “I think…you should read this…” She said between puffs of air.
Amy took the newspaper and read the front page.
ROBINSON KIDNAPPING CASE TO BE REOPENED; SUSPECT TO BE DETAINED
Amy could have sworn her heart stopped beating in her chest right then and there.
“No…” She said to herself.
…He went fishing for Marc's file today, and threatened to reveal John's secret if John doesn't reopen the case, and find a way to send Marc to prison…
Amy’s eyes scanned the page at what seemed like super speed. On the front cover was a picture of Marc’s mugshot, and of John Shanes.
…Judge John Shanes has been assigned to reopen the case of the Robinson kidnapping, due to public feedback at the sentencing of the kidnapper, Mr. Marcus O’Brady. Judge Shanes has ordered that O’Brady be detained in the Old Town Precinct until further notice as to when the trial will take place, when a sentence can be carried out…
“Where did you get this?” Amy asked.
“Downtown.” Lisa said. “Trevor and I went out to lunch, and we saw it and I knew…”
Amy turned to Mr. Wittmore. “Mr. Wittmore, I hate to ask this of you, but can I please run down to the hospital and warn Marc? Maybe if I get there fast enough, I can stop them…”
Mr. Wittmore nodded. “Yes, yes, yes, I’ll have Anna take over here for you. Just go!”
“Thank you so much! I’ll work double next time, I promise!” Amy said. She handed the newspaper back to Lisa and grabbed her purse, running out of the cubicle and out the door.
Amy didn’t stop running the entire way to the hospital. The only thing she could think about was Marc, and getting to him as fast as she possibly could. She thought of her father, bitterly, and how he had betrayed her by going behind her back and blackmailing Shanes into doing this.
Amy stopped dead when she reached the hospital parking lot. There were three police hovercars parked there.
“No.” Amy said. “No!” She ran towards the doors, throwing them open. She skipped the elevator, knowing she was in too much of a hurry to wait for it, and headed for the stairs. Two stepping the stairs, she emerged in the hallway a few moments later. She sped as fast as she could down the hall towards Marc’s room, despite the cries of disapproval from the nurses.
“Marc!” She said as she ran in. “Marc, I—”
She stopped dead, her eyes wide in horror.
Marc was sitting in his wheelchair, three police officers behind him. He was starring at the ground, a sad look on his face that nearly broke Amy’s heart. One of the police officers was handcuffing his hands behind him.
“Mr. O’Brady, you are under arrest on the charge of kidnapping and attempted murder.” The officer said. “You have the right to remain silent…”
In the corner, Wilbur was arguing with another police officer, waving his hands in the air, his skin changing colors every minute or so.
“Marc, no…” Amy said softly, bringing her hand to her mouth, choking back the tears.
Marc looked up and his eyes met hers. “Amy…”
I based Mrs. Hannah off of my own yearbook teacher, Mrs. Ricketts. She's known for her "Eyebrows of Doom" and you had better not get pictures of the backs of people's heads, or you may just end up buried alive. :) She's one of my favorite teachers, though...
Can't wait to see what happens next! Good luck!
Current Music: Complicated ~ Avril Lavigne