Back to Fan FictionI do not own any of the characters, except for Dr. Jenkins of course, and no infringement is intended as this is just for fun :-) I would also love to recieve any comments, and I have a lack of free time, so if anyone thinks that they would like to continue the story, PLEASE email me and we'll work it out. Hope ya'll like it!
by
A Beautiful Storm
(Wackyhorse2002@aol.com)
Maxwell looked down at the beautiful woman lying next to him in the limousine. She was sprawled out on the seat, with her head resting on his lap. Mechanically, Maxwell stroked her dark hair out of her exquisite face. How had this happened? He wondered. One minute, she was her usual—almost usual—spunky, feisty, comedic self. Now, now…Now she was different. Her face was ghostly pale and she continued to shiver.
"Are we almost there yet, old man?" Maxwell asked his trusty butler, who was driving them to the hospital.
"Almost, sir. How’s Miss Fine?" Niles replied. He was so worried about his dear friend. What would happen to her?
"The same, I’m afraid." Maxwell said quietly. The rest of the ride was silent, as both men thought about the wonderful Fran Fine. Niles got out first, opening the door to allow Maxwell to exit. Max cradled Miss Fine in his strong arms, and entered the hospital.
How he hated this place. He had lost Sara here. He had left Miss Fine here for a tonsillectomy, and had almost died of boredom. He needed her with him, and that scared him. He’d never felt like this about anyone, not even Sara. Though he loved his dear departed wife, Miss Fine was different. She was lively and passionate, and…just different. And he loved her differently.
While Niles began to fill out the paper work for Miss Fine, Maxwell took a seat in the waiting room, still holding the cataleptic Fran close to his body. He kissed her tenderly on the forehead, silently promising to her that if she was alright he would tell her everything. At his touch, she stirred, and her eyes fluttered open.
"Mr. Sheffield?" She said, barely perceptible. He nodded, and smiled. She smiled back weakly, and closed her eyes again. Oh, he hated her like this. She wasn’t herself, she wasn’t the vivacious, outgoing woman they all knew and loved. He stared at her face for a while, and soon heard the click-clack of shoes approaching.
"Hello Mr. Sheffield, Fran." The red-headed Dr. Jenkins said, greeting them. Dr. Jenkins waved her hand, directing the couple towards the doors.
In the hospital room…
Fran was lying on a hospital bed, with various IV’s stemming from a range of parts of her body. Max was sitting in a chair, holding Miss Fine’s hand in his own.
"Mr. Sheffield, I have some rather upsetting news." Dr. Jenkins said quietly. She could tell how much Maxwell cared for his so called nanny, and she hated delivering news like this anyway. For some reason, she hated to upset Maxwell. She felt oddly drawn to the handsome Brit.
Maxwell felt as if a knife had been stabbed through his heart. He couldn’t take anymore bad news. It was all bloody bad news. His LIFE was bad news. Until Fran came. He needed Fran like a fish needs water, like a bird needs its wings.
"It seems that Miss Fine has suffered some mild brain trauma," Dr, Jenkins began, accentuating the word mild. She sat down in the chair next to Maxwell. "Her brain is swollen, and seems to be enlarging as time passes. As of now, the only symptoms should be what she has been experiencing. Nausea, fatigue, general sicknesses. But, I hate to inform you that a coma is to be expected within a few hours. I’m very sorry." She concluded. She felt an overwhelming urge to comfort him. She hated his expression; he looked like he had been smacked across the face. His eyes shined with unshed tears, and his heart ached with unsaid words. Maxwell just nodded. Dr. Jenkins put a comforting arm around his shoulders.
In the waiting room…
Niles had just heard of Miss Fine’s current condition. After calling the children at Mrs. Sheffield’s house in England (they were staying with their grandmother for the week), he felt drained. And as he approached her hospital room in intensive care, he felt sick to his stomach.
"Hello old man." Maxwell said softly as his trusty butler entered the room. Niles nodded in reply.
"Sir, do you mind if I have a few moments alone with Miss Fine?" Niles asked. Maxwell just nodded and slumped out of the hospital room. Niles took a seat next to Miss Fine’s bed, and took her hand gently in his own.
"Oh, Miss Fine." He said, sighing. "You know, I always knew that one day or another something would happen that would make Mr. Sheffield realize his true feelings. I just didn’t think…this far into it. We all need you, you know. The children and I can always use cheering up. And who else am I to tell when I hit Babcoc with a zinger? I know Mr. Sheffield wishes you well. And I’m sure you wouldn’t be too fond of the way that red headed doctor looks at him." Niles began. He wouldn’t admit it, but Dr. Jenkins seemed like Sara. Hopefully his boss wouldn’t notice either. "Please, get well soon." Niles ended, kissing his friend lightly on the forehead. As he sat next to her, her eyes flickered open.
"What doctor?" Miss Fine asked, with a quirky smile. Niles laughed. "I feel a lot better, Niles," Fran said, sitting up on her elbows.
"You ought to; they gave you enough drugs to bring down Godzilla." Niles retorted, in his normal witty way. Miss Fine tried to laugh, but her effort soon turned in to violent coughs. Niles watched in horror as Fran’s body trembled in mild seizures. He jumped up and pushed the red "help" button above her bed and soon doctors and nurses were surrounding her bed. Maxwell was soon at his side. After the commotion settled down, Dr. Jenkins took Maxwell to the side of the room.
"She just experienced a very placid seizure. It’s very common in comatose patients." Dr. Jenkins said, implying what Maxwell dreaded. He could have sworn his jaw hit the floor. She was gone. At least, gone to the outside world. How long would she stay locked up in that labyrinth that was her mind? Not long, Maxwell thought. Fran Fine was a fighter. She’d pull through—wouldn’t she?
The End
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