Ian Lynn Malcolm (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
malcolmeffect) wrote2009-05-05 02:30 pm
malcolmeffect) wrote2009-05-05 02:30 pm
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justprompts Terminator Quote
I know now why you cry. But it's something I can never do. -The Terminator to John, Terminator 2: Judgment Day
Ian was feeling woozy again. He couldn’t be sure if it was the pain, the morphine or just the fact he’d been trapped in bed for weeks. He spent his time drifting in and out of sleep. Sometimes he would watch the IV, count the drops and notice how the timing wasn’t exactly the same between any two drops. Chaos at work even in something so simple and viewed as reliable.
“Ian.”
The soft voice didn’t register until he heard footsteps. Listlessly he turned his head to see the nurse, one of them. Melissa, Marcy, he couldn’t remember her name but she was familiar to him.
“Ellen sent a letter.”
He hadn’t heard anything from his wife that he could remember since returning from Costa Rica. It was possible that she had been there when he was asleep. They had separated before he left for Hammond’s park. Maybe she changed her mind.
“Open it.” Malcolm asked trying to resituate himself more upright in the bed. It didn’t work and he quickly gave up. Meanwhile the nurse opened the letter and started reading. Her face was hidden behind a stack of papers.
“This can wait.”
“Divorce papers.” Ian stated feeling the energy he did have seep away. He really liked Ellen when they weren’t at odds. Even then he still enjoyed her company. Ian understood more than anyone that nothing, no system and certainly not a relationship, could maintain stability. It would ebb and flow from stability to chaos like everything else. Ellen hated that he accepted the turmoil.
“Yes.” The nurse’s voice was far away and quiet.
“Get..uh.. get me the phone.” Ian needed to talk to her. Why couldn’t she wait until he wasn’t dying to do this? It was just like her though to take advantage of a down point. The nurse dialed for him before handing over the phone. Usually Ian could remember numbers but the morphine seemed to kill that ability. He listened to the phone ring. It rang for a long while before someone picked up.
“Ellen?” Ian hoped it was her and not whomever she was with. Who knew where she was. He couldn’t remember her being back since he had been brought from the hospital.
“I don’t want to talk, Ian.”
It was her and obviously not happy that he’d contacted her. “Why?”
“You were in prison in Costa Rica.” The voice came across cold.
“Were. I’m not now.” Ian corrected.
She sighed on the other end. “They said you won’t walk again.”
Ian had heard that himself. His leg was still paralyzed and the break still wasn’t healing right. He knew she was right. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.” She answered with a long silence. “I don’t want to be around for what’s coming.”
Ian closed his eyes when he heard the tone in her voice. “You’re talking like I’m dead.”
“I was better off when you were.” She snapped. The phone clicked as she hung up on him.
Ian just let the phone drop beside him. There had been rumors from Costa Rica that he was dead. Hammond and Sarah; Dr. Harding’s daughter, had both told her that he was very ill. They had told Ellen that they were trying to get him back to the states for medical care. It had taken six months. That had been two months ago. She hadn’t come to see him.
Ian looked down at his leg under the sheet. The injury was ruining his life. It would probably kill him before he got out of bed again. At least now there wasn’t anything to worry about if he died. No one would be left to care about it. It was a waiting game to die. Malcolm hated to wait.
Words: 624
Ian was feeling woozy again. He couldn’t be sure if it was the pain, the morphine or just the fact he’d been trapped in bed for weeks. He spent his time drifting in and out of sleep. Sometimes he would watch the IV, count the drops and notice how the timing wasn’t exactly the same between any two drops. Chaos at work even in something so simple and viewed as reliable.
“Ian.”
The soft voice didn’t register until he heard footsteps. Listlessly he turned his head to see the nurse, one of them. Melissa, Marcy, he couldn’t remember her name but she was familiar to him.
“Ellen sent a letter.”
He hadn’t heard anything from his wife that he could remember since returning from Costa Rica. It was possible that she had been there when he was asleep. They had separated before he left for Hammond’s park. Maybe she changed her mind.
“Open it.” Malcolm asked trying to resituate himself more upright in the bed. It didn’t work and he quickly gave up. Meanwhile the nurse opened the letter and started reading. Her face was hidden behind a stack of papers.
“This can wait.”
“Divorce papers.” Ian stated feeling the energy he did have seep away. He really liked Ellen when they weren’t at odds. Even then he still enjoyed her company. Ian understood more than anyone that nothing, no system and certainly not a relationship, could maintain stability. It would ebb and flow from stability to chaos like everything else. Ellen hated that he accepted the turmoil.
“Yes.” The nurse’s voice was far away and quiet.
“Get..uh.. get me the phone.” Ian needed to talk to her. Why couldn’t she wait until he wasn’t dying to do this? It was just like her though to take advantage of a down point. The nurse dialed for him before handing over the phone. Usually Ian could remember numbers but the morphine seemed to kill that ability. He listened to the phone ring. It rang for a long while before someone picked up.
“Ellen?” Ian hoped it was her and not whomever she was with. Who knew where she was. He couldn’t remember her being back since he had been brought from the hospital.
“I don’t want to talk, Ian.”
It was her and obviously not happy that he’d contacted her. “Why?”
“You were in prison in Costa Rica.” The voice came across cold.
“Were. I’m not now.” Ian corrected.
She sighed on the other end. “They said you won’t walk again.”
Ian had heard that himself. His leg was still paralyzed and the break still wasn’t healing right. He knew she was right. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.” She answered with a long silence. “I don’t want to be around for what’s coming.”
Ian closed his eyes when he heard the tone in her voice. “You’re talking like I’m dead.”
“I was better off when you were.” She snapped. The phone clicked as she hung up on him.
Ian just let the phone drop beside him. There had been rumors from Costa Rica that he was dead. Hammond and Sarah; Dr. Harding’s daughter, had both told her that he was very ill. They had told Ellen that they were trying to get him back to the states for medical care. It had taken six months. That had been two months ago. She hadn’t come to see him.
Ian looked down at his leg under the sheet. The injury was ruining his life. It would probably kill him before he got out of bed again. At least now there wasn’t anything to worry about if he died. No one would be left to care about it. It was a waiting game to die. Malcolm hated to wait.
Words: 624