How Much Time?



Scene Title How Much Time?
Synopsis At night Kaylee is forced to face the fact that death is looming.
Date September 21, 2009

Kaylee's Apartment

A small table lamp baths the largely undecorated room in a dull glow, casting the walls in soft yellow. The rumpled dark purple comforter moves as the young blonde in the bed shifts to her side with a soft groan. Her mind waking to a body that is one big dull ache of pain. Legs pull up as she curls into the fetal position, fingers curl into the thick fabric, and a soft sob escapes her.

This is something the others don't get to see, Kaylee crying. She won't let them see her weak, she won't let Adam see her that way. He'd never let her do anything for him if he saw her like this.

She dreads the nights now, maybe it is why she does stupid things like running out to Staten to watch old men drink themselves into a stupor or drunken idiots play darts. Prolong the day as long as she can, 'cause when she sleeps, the medication wears off and then she is forced to stare her looming death in the face.

Throwing off the covers, Kaylee slowly rolls to where she can sit on the edge of the bed. The action forces her to swallow back the wave of nausea twisting her stomach painfully, fingers grip at the side of the bed while she tries not to throw up. The lamp glow washes over a face drawn with pain, her eyes almost look sunken, the skin darkened around blue orbs narrowed against the painful aching of her body. The faint light makes the tears, sliding down her cheeks, glisten and stand out, until a hand reaches up to swipe them away.

How much more time do I have?

The question is a constant in her mind anymore. How much time before she'll be unable to get out of bed? Will she just keel over suddenly when her body gets to a point? Will she be like people lying in hospital beds clawing for those last moment of life?

Kaylee's whole body shudders at the thought. That is not how she wants to be remembered. She watched family members do that, it is never a pretty sight.

Her head turns slowly to consider the pair of brown prescription bottles on her nightstand. They are the only thing keeping her functioning and able to keep working like a good girl, though a part of her feels like she should be living her final days to their fullest. She is already throwing Adam's order to stay off Staten to the wind. No reason to worry about her health now…. Right? She's going to die a slow, painful, death. It makes a quicker one, like a bullet to the head, look like more of a blessing.

How much more?

The young telepath may not show it, but she is scared. No one wants to die, much less Kaylee. She loves living and she doesn't seem ready to give up on it yet. A hand is forced from it's death grip on the bed, so that she can reach for the bottles. It trembles weakly, as it takes a little more effort to do so. Lips press tightly together and she frowns.

Hmm.. that's new.

Shaking fingers curl around the bottles and draws them closer, so that she can start opening each bottle, shaking out pills into her other hand. Two of each, pink and white. Double the dose recommended on the bottle, but she needs it. The normal dose doesn't do the trick anymore. Bottles are set on the table and the little round pills are tossed into her mouth and swallowed dry, too exhausted to get water.

Pulling herself back onto the bed, back pressed against the wall, her comforter is pulled over raised knees, before hunching over and resting her chin on them. Her gaze trails over the sparse room, before letting her eyes close and her thoughts drift.

Adam…. Just thinking his name brings a mix of emotions and makes her stomach twist painfully. He is that father she never had in her life, she really believes that. Her deadbeat daddy, Ray, might have been blow up in Midtown, but her employer seems to have taken his place in her mind. Should she call him? Tell him what is going on? Would he even care?

Would anyone care?

Kaylee's head tilts down so that she can bury her face against the thick comforter draping her knees. She's been avoiding everyone in the small group, lest she see their pity…. or worse, they tell Adam. She feels so guilty for avoiding the man, he's done nothing but show that he has her best interest in mind. Overbearing and overprotective, that's how a father is suppose to be, right?

How would he react if he knew that her body was giving out, and possibly due to the woman in LA? This worries her and is probably the biggest reason she hasn't gone to him. She can't help but imagine the disappointment in his eyes. Would it be disappointment in her for getting herself into a situation that he cannot fix… or would it simply be there cause she lost him a tool? She isn't totally sure and she is afraid to find out the answer.

Her arms move to drape across her head as it remains buried in the soft fabric, as if trying to hide from unseen eyes. Fingers hook into the hair at the back of her head and she sniffs back the tears that threaten again. The silence and loneliness of the situation suddenly seems to be pressing in on her like a crushing weight

When you're dying, isn't that the time you're supposed to bring close all you hold dear? You always see people on TV surrounded by the people who love and care about them, yet Kaylee sits alone in her room. Not even a warm body to seek comfort in and to be held by. She knows she could always go home to Kentucky, to be surrounded by family, but to do that would mean she's given up. Until she hears from Brian, until she knows Dr. Brooke can't help her…


So much is still left unanswered, but does she have the time to find the fix…. and is there a fix?

Kaylee doesn't know, she has to try, but… she doesn't know where to look.

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