~*~
Nudge.
Garret looked over at Mark, who motioned up to the entry of their private waiting room. The doctor entered. Garret stood and stepped forward. “Doctor?”
Mark and Vanessa came to stand behind Garret as they waited for the answer.
The doctor’s expression was serious as he slightly shook his head. Vanessa turned into Mark’s comforting embrace with a gasp and a cry. Mark’s complexion yellowed. The doctor looked to Garret, whose stricken expression paled. “Are you Garret?” Garret wordlessly nodded. “She’s asking for you. This way.”
The doctor motioned for Garret to pass. He did, and then he wordlessly and thoughtlessly followed the doctor’s slow steps toward the recovery room. The doctor held the door open for him, closing it after Garret passed through. Garret halted when his eyes focused on Amy’s form in the hospital bed. Pale. Unmoving. Pained expression… and then she opened her eyes and smiled.
Garret’s eyes burned and his throat nearly wouldn’t let him breathe as he moved toward her bed. He slowly sat in the nearby chair and reached out to take her hand in his. His eyes couldn’t lift from her hand to her face. “Amy…”
Amy’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she tightened her hold on his hand. “Garret Harrison,” she whispered, “you’re speechless.”
Garret brought her hand to his lips. “I am afraid to speak lest that breath deplete from your own,” he said softly. Garret couldn’t meet her gaze. “Do not make me face this world without you, sweet muse.”
Amy’s smile faded as her eyes glimmered. “Poet mine, you shall always have my presence within you,” she said in a tight whisper. “Do you not know I have bestowed it upon your very heart and spirit?”
Garret pressed her hand against his lips again, and then his cheek, and then his forehead. He closed his eyes. “Yet I have given you that which I have always hidden within. My very self.” He slightly shook his head. “Should you leave... I would not survive the parting.” His voice cracked on the last word.
Amy watched his face as her tears escaped. Her lips tipped downward. “Sweet poet,” she whispered, “my world will be gray until once again your voice is present to color my sky...” Amy’s voice broke.
Garret shook his head again, opening his eyes to meet her tear-filled gaze. “No...”
Amy’s thumb lightly caressed his cheek where he held her hand against his face. “Remember me, poet mine, that the delicate petals of my soul might again embrace you to the heart you hold within the palm of your gentleness.”
Garret leaned forward, holding her hand tight against his chest as he pressed his lips against hers, and her cheeks, and her forehead. “Amy... please do not leave me.”
Amy took in a slow breath and released it. “Garret,” she said in a broken voice, “please don’t ever regret our time together.”
Garret lifted his head to meet her tear-filled gaze. “How can I regret that which gave me life, Amy?” he asked, tears glistening.
Amy’s smile faded between one of pain and happiness. Then a tear escaped Garret’s tenacious hold and dripped down his face to drop onto her hand. Amy flinched. “I never wanted to hurt you, Garret. If I knew this was going to happen...” Amy blinked the tears from her eyes so she could see him. “Garret, I-I’m sorry.”
Garret shook his head. “Do not be sorry, sweet muse,” he whispered. “Just live. Live and be my muse forever and always.” He pressed his lips against her hand. “Live and marry me, sweet.”
Amy choked out a laugh as she raised her other hand to cover her face. She gripped his hand and whispered. “I will marry you, Garret. I will...” She lowered her hand from her face and gazed up into his face. “But I fear I die, forever separating me from your intensity...”
Garret caressed her face, Amy smiling sadly up at him as he did his best to comfort her. Words were no longer enough. Then Garret felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked to his left. The doctor stood there.
“She needs her rest,” he said quietly.
Garret slightly nodded as he deftly wiped the tears from his cheeks with his free hand. Then he turned back to Amy with a slight smile. He pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. “I shall return, sweet muse,” he whispered against it.
Amy took in a broken breath. “Please... sweet sweet poet, tarry not in the presence of damsels and dragons.”
Garret’s throat tightened. “Surely I cannot tarry when my soul and heart are held captive within your song and warmth.” He pulled slightly back, kissing her hand as he held her gaze. “Sleep now. Replenish that warmth and song I adore.”
Amy slightly nodded, a choked sob escaping. “I beg of thee, sweet poet, bid me ‘until our dreams’, for I shall surely seek you there,” she whispered.
Garret tucked her hand under the blankets. “Until our dreams, dearest and most tender muse. Until our dreams.”
.: Twelve :.
Bittersweet
“And the Oscar for best supporting actor goes to.... Amy Burke from The Reunion!”
The audience roared, applause reverberating through the grand hall as Sir Garret Harrison stood to make his way down the carpeted aisle to the stage. Ms Vanessa Heron, Mr. Mark Frasier, and Mr. Max Shepherd watched from their seats, somber and silent. Vanessa hid her face in a kerchief, and Mark wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Max looked down at his clenched hands.
Garret accepted the shining trophy from the presenting host and then moved to the clear crystal podium as he stared down at it. After another moment of applause, Garret lifted his gaze, and the audience quieted. “As many of you know,” he began in a rough voice, “Amy Burke is unable to be here tonight due to a tragic accident during filming of her final scene.”
Garret’s throat tightened on the words. Words disappeared, lost again to the wave of grief he felt at her loss. Garret lowered his gaze to the Oscar, adjusting his hold on it as the memories of that day gripped his soul. Remembering the doctor’s soft words “She may never walk again…”
Garret cleared his throat. “Amy is an actor such as I have never seen. She continues to strive for that utter and complete understanding of her role, thereby doing her utmost in the performance of it. She continues to strive toward an understanding of those characters which interact with her own, thereby deepening her own understanding of what needs to be portrayed. Amy...” Garret swallowed hard. “Two years ago, Amy imbued a passion and intensity into The Reunion. Today, she continues to imbue passion and intensity into our lives as well. Accepting us at our word. Pushing us to strive harder to understand ourselves and those around us.”
Garret raised his gaze again, not caring that tears had escaped his hold to rest on his cheeks. He slightly lifted the Oscar. “This is not only a testament to that ability, but a showing of your appreciation to her effort. Amy thanks you, as do I.”
Garret turned to exit the stage, smiling when he heard the roar of the crowd as they stood to their feet.