You Got Me Poppin Champagne

JASEY'S POV

Mommy was sick a few times before she went to sleep. Daddy would be back soon. I picked up Mommy's empty shiny glass for her special sweeties and made sure to put them back in the same place, so Daddy wouldn't know Mommy had eaten all the treats without him. I used to ask if I could have one but Mommy said that I wouldn't like them, they were sweeties only Mommies liked and maybe, if I had my own baby when I was all grown up, I could have some all to myself. But I couldn't tell Daddy about them because Daddy would get jealous because there aren't any special sweeties for Daddy.

That made me sad, my Daddy deserved sweeties too, they might cheer him up. I don't like seeing my Daddy sad when he's here. I don't like seeing my Mommy upset either, so I would keep our secret, because I didn't want her to be sad if I broke my promise to her and told. And she always looked better when she had some sweeties. But she always went to sleep too. This time she looked the most asleep I had ever seen her.

They must be working, I smiled to myself. I helped my Mommy be happy again.

ALEX'S POV

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck," I repeated to myself as I drove impatiently towards my home.

Mom told me not to drive, I was in too much of a state, and she was right, she told me to wait for my dad to drive me, or to call one of my friends and ask them to pick me up. No. I wasn't gonna wait. God knows what sort of state Erin was in. I should have known when she told me that Noah hated her, but I brushed it off as part of her grief.

No wonder she looked to desperate and helpless before I left, no wonder her eyes were pleading me to stay. No wonder I thought I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. It wasn't just a mere flicker, I realised now, it was a roaring burning flame of fear, the heat too much to bear and the brightness of it the only thing she could see. All she felt was fear around our children, it was only now that I saw it, and it fucking killed me. I should have seen this sooner. I shouldn't have been so fucking blind and I hadn't exactly helped the situation any more by running off to my parents practically every day. And that tour, that fucking tour I insisted on last minute, what the hell was I thinking? I was such a dick! I should have been there for Erin, and I would waste no time now I had the slightest inkling of the pain and trauma Erin must have been going through.

Finally it was the turning for my road and in less than ten seconds I had sped my way to our house, pulled into the driveway, and nervously fumbled with the door, my shaking fingers unable to open the door steadily. All  I wanted to do was hold Erin, tell her everything would be okay, sing to her, promise that I'd get her the best help I could, take her to the best doctor or whatever to treat post natal depression. Make it all okay. Because I needed her back.

I needed my Erin back.

Finally I won the battle with my keys and the door, swung it open and called for Erin. No answer.

I couldn't see her in the living area or kitchen, and she wasn't in the downstairs loo or the back yard or anywhere downstairs. I panicked thinking she'd left, but then calmed myself down, thinking maybe she was in bed, I mean she always looked so tired. She was probably just sleeping it off.

I sighed and made my way upstairs, running through my head what I would tell Erin, like a perfect play, how I would turn the situation around and rise as a hero once again, saving Erin. Well it was only fair, she had saved me from being a man whore the rest of my life. And I was rarely sad these days, aside from our most recent tragedies. It just wasn't fair on us, would we ever get a break? Be happy? Well we would from now on, I mentally promised myself.

I reached the top of the stairs and peeked into our bedroom...nobody was sleeping there, not even the dogs, which was strange because if that bed was free they were always on it. I shook my head in disbelief and tried Jasey's room, and frowned. Jasey wasn't in there either. Nobody was in the spare room. Finally, Noah's nursery came.

I tentatively pushed open the door to see Noah in his cot, obviously, quiet for once, and Jasey, Erin and the dogs all laying on the floor. I smiled to myself, taking a mental picture. It all looked so peaceful.

Sebastian and Peyton were snuggling into either side of a sleeping Erin and Jasey was draping her favourite Disney blanket over her. I walked forwards, crouching by Jasey, who turned around to shush me.

"Be quiet Daddy, Mommy's sleeping," she informed me, rather strongly.

I smiled and ruffled her hair. "No problem kiddo, but maybe we should move her to a bed?" I suggested to the infantile chief, clearly the one in charge of this whole military operation.

Jasey seemed to think it through before eventually nodding and reminding me not to let her Peter Pan blanket get ruined.

I promised I wouldn't, and reached forwards to pull Erin into my arms and carry her to our room, Jasey trailing behind. Erin felt cold in my arms, and I thought it was strange, but she did only have one blanket over her, so I settled her in the bed and pulled the quilt up to her neck. It was only when I leaned in to kiss her that I saw just how pale her lips were and there were no obvious signs of her breathing.

For a moment it seemed like everything had frozen, the sight of Erin's pale, still form the only thing I could ever think of perceiving, burned into my memory.

After that eternity, panic took the better of me and the 13 minutes and 28 seconds following were a flurry of dialling three very important single digits, briefly noticing a half packed bag and items of all sorts flung in every direction known to man in our room, holding Jasey close as she inquired as to why Daddy looked so scared, calling my parents and making sure the door was open when the ambulance arrived.

"I-I left her, I thought she'd be okay, I just left her, my mom, I went to see her, it was just too much, I didn't think she needed me," I tried to explain to the paramedic, not sure whether I was trying to make sense to her or myself.

They told me to sit down. I pulled Jasey closer to me. I pretended to not know Jasey knew I was crying. I pretended I didn't know Jasey was crying. They asked me what her name was, no, not the child, my wife. They asked me how old Erin was. 

In a matter of minutes we were at the hospital, receptionists continuing their lives as if there wasn't a woman being wheelchaired towards the maternity ward, as if there wasn't a teenager wearing a bandana on his head shamelessly crying as yet another needle punctured his body, as if an elderly man wasn't saying his final goodbyes to a picture of his wife, as if that lead singer from a show their kid went to last year wasn't sat clutching his desperate child, completely broken. My parents sat with me. Noah was in a pram. The doctor asked me questions. I asked him if I could come in. Jasey insisted she wanted to stay with me. My parents promised that, of course, they would sit with Noah and did I want a coffee, I may need it. Or something stronger, the doctor muttered, unwittingly. 

They asked me, Mr Gaskarth, did Erin have any medical conditions. They asked me how long ago did I find her. They asked me was Erin diagnosed and prescribed drugs. They worked quickly over the body I knew so well. They asked if I knew-

"Daddy," Jasey whispered timidly into my ear, interrupting the chaotic slow motion frenzy around me. 

I turned and looked down at my trembling daughter immediately. Tears filled her green elfin eyes, so like Erin's. Tears followed in mine and I pulled Jasey tighter and kissed her forehead. "It's okay baby, it'll all be okay," I promised, without thinking.

I didn't know if it would be okay. It was just something you always told kids, right? You couldn't let them know how bad a situation was. As a parent you couldn't ever let them hurt. You can't ruin whatever little spark they have left keeping them going when the light inside of you has well and truly died, clinging to their premature sparks because in honesty you want, no, you need something to hold onto. So telling a child it would be okay was the most important thing in the world, because if you told them that, your own irrational mind could cling to it and selfishly claim hope intended for someone who didn't understand.

"But Daddy, it's my fault," she told me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stroked her soft hair. "No, Jasey, sweetheart this is Daddy's fault, you didn't do anything wrong, you hear me?"

"But Daddy, I let her eat them all. They always helped Mommy before. She made me promise not to tell. It's our secret. I don't want her to be sad anymore," Jasey said, barely above a whisper.

My eyes widened and my heart almost stopped. "Jasey, nobody is gonna be mad at you, especially not Mommy, I promise, but I just need you to tell me...what did you let her eat?"

Jasey bit her lip and looked into my eyes, assessing whether or not I was telling the truth, fearing a punishment from one of us. My stare retaliated and pleaded with her to let me know what exactly had happened, for all our sakes. "She was sad," she said finally. "Mommy was getting sad because Noah kept crying and I didn't want her to be sad and when Mommy gets sad she asks for her special sweeties. They're just for Mommies and she didn't want you mad that you couldn't eat them. Today she ate them all."

Special sweeties. Drugs. Erin had been using drugs to cope. How did I not know? I was supposed to know, I was supposed to be there every-time Erin needed me. I was supposed to save her.

"What did they look like, sweetheart?" an eavesdropping nurse asked. Jasey bit her lip and looked at me.

I let her know it was okay, nobody would be made, and it was okay if it wasn't a pinky promise, those are more important than a simple spoken promise. I urged her, unappreciative of the, well meant, I'm sure, nurses additional encouragement. I looked Jasey square in the eye. "Please, baby," I whispered.

Jasey stared at me another minute, still measuring, before pulling out a small, empty glass bottle with an innocent label on it, from the red coat I had placed her in before we left, when she dashed under our bed for a toy, she had said. "Please don't tell Mommy," she begged. "I don't want her to be sad anymore," she continued, unable to look at me anymore, burying her face in my neck and tightening her small arms around it.

The nurse quickly plucked the bottle from my hand as I comforted my daughter, stroking her hair, and read the label. "Sleeping pills," the rude clone in a uniform mumbled before giving them their proper medical name.

Sleeping pills.

Erin had swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills.

"Fuck," I whispered in disbelief. How could I not know? How could I let this happen? How could I let a situation arise in which nobody was there to scold me as I swore in front of one of my children? How could I let it get this far without realising? How could Erin feel like this was the only way?

But it wasn't, was it? I thought to myself. Because her bags were packed, or at least half packed, weren't they? She was exploring her options. She was going to leave me. I felt a stab at my heart but it immediately vanished when I realised I would rather she leave me and stand a chance of being happy and alive and perhaps returning one day than her being sad and dead with no way back at all. No. I couldn't have her leave me this way too, it was too many people. At least if she had just left, just gone to another country there would have still been hope. Hope that Erin was somehow happy, finally, even if it didn't include me. But not this way. I couldn't have her leave this way. No. I was a selfish bastard, I needed her here with me.

And I was scared. For the millionth time today. Something deep in my gut had awoken and with a sharp pang of realisation the worst thought in the world came to me. 

I couldn't raise our children without her.

Not because of my job, I would end that in a heartbeat. I would do everything I could. I would be there everyday for our children. But that was the point. They were OUR children. We had created them together. I couldn't raise them on my own. I was a shit role model. I couldn't be a good dad without Erin, she made me better. What would happen when Noah needed a mom because he was too scared and ashamed to tell his dad that he still wet the bed, or he was being teased, or he didn't know how to ask out a girl? What would happen when Jasey needed a mom because she wanted to know how to use make up to make her as beautiful as her mommy, or because she didn't know what was happening to her every month or because a boy had broken her heart and she wanted to eat ice cream. I couldn't do that. I couldn't be who they would need.

I desperately asked the doctor if she would be okay, after I had been forced out of the room they were working on her in, and braced myself for the smile that was impossible to evaluate. The one that held every answer you ever needed in two simple formats. A yes or a no. I held my breath and my mother put her arm around my shoulders, squeezing me slightly. Jasey snuggled closer, sleep finally kicking in for my precious little girl. Good. She shouldn't have to hear it if it was bad news. Thank god Noah was too young to understand, regardless of the fact that he was already asleep. 

The doctor opened his mouth.

I sent a final inward prayer.

My mother tensed.

My father let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank god," my mother said.

More tears fell from my eyes. 

Relief washed over me.

Happy tears.

"A mild coma," he told us.

Erin had thrown up most of the pills before they could take any real effect. She should wake up in a couple of days. They would have to monitor her closely. Things were still on the rocks.

But I had my own glimmer of hope now, and I could relax my iron grip on Jasey and her shining spark of a flame.