On Thin Ice

Olesz’s P.O.V

“Sals, do you think he’ll pull through? Price I mean. He doesn’t look so good.” I turned away from the glass that I was staring through as Machete talked to Carey.

Salak shrugged, “It’s hard to tell at this point. He’s pushed this much to get close to Machete again, and now that he is, why would he give it up?” He rested a hand on my shoulder, “Don’t worry, Olz. They are doing all they can.”

----Three years later----

Mac’s P.o.V

“Rosti, stop running around like a manic.” I scooped my now three year old son into my arms as I entered the hospital to visit Carey for the umpteenth time. Shortly after the accident, Price fell into a coma, and hasn’t responded much since. But I never gave up trying. Today was the first time I got to bring my son, Rostislav Burrows.

I was greeted by the nurse, Misty. “Hello, Mrs.Burrows. How are you doing today?”

“Great, thank you.” I set Rosti back on his feet, and he held onto my hand.

“Is this the oh-so-famous Rostislav that I’ve heard about?” She knelt down and smiled at my son, whose chocolate eyes basically shouted who the real father was.

I nodded, “Yes. He’s really curious to explore the hospital. How is Carey doing today?” The nurse shook her head solemnly.

“About the same. Maybe Little Ros can bring him back?” Misty smiled and resumed her work.

I smiled down at my son. Maybe our son could be a miracle worker. I made my way into Carey’s room. He lay in the hospital bed so peacefully, eyes closed, chest heaving up and down.

“Mommy! Dat’s Cawy Pice! I seen ‘im on da Teebee.” Rosti peered over the railings of Carey’s bed. He stuck his small hands into Price’s hands. “Look, mommy, we sake hands.”

I wiped away stray tears from my eyes as I saw Rostislav with Carey. It was touching to see him idolize Price so much, considering Price helped create Rosti. “Come here, Rosti, I want you to talk to Carey with me. Can you do that?”

“Yes, momma.” I sat in a chair next to Carey’s bed, and pulled Rosti on my lap. “Why don’t you tell Price a story? You like the one of the messenger saving the day, right? Why don’t you tell him that story?”

“Ok, momma. Cawy, dis favite stowy, kay? You betta wisten.” Rosti paused and started to tell the story. “Once upon a time, der was wonewy messaga….”

I listened carefully as Rosti told the child-friendly version of the story of how Carey received news from Adam Shane that I was in danger. My eyes drifted closed as I thought of the first time I told Rosti the story.

*flashback*
“Hey, Rosti, you want to hear a new story before you go to bed?”

“Yes, momma. What’s it about?”

“This story is about a messenger warning the maiden of trouble.”

“Sounds wike a good stowy momma.”

“It is, baby. It is. Once upon a time, there was a lonely messenger, who was in love with a woman very far away. The two had been friends for a very long time, but the maiden moved away, leaving the messenger sad, and alone. One day, an evil witch tried to convince the messenger to get revenge against the maiden who left him. The messenger refused and jumped on his horse to warn the maiden. He traveled over a thousand miles to warn the maiden. Almost to the maiden’s tower, the messenger ran into the maiden’s Prince, who joined forces with the messenger. Both of them hurried to the tower, and when they got there, the evil witch was casting a spell on the maiden to make her very sleepy. The evil witch tried zapping the Prince with the same spell, but the messenger interfered, and the power of his heart reflected the magic back to the witch and she turned into dust. Sadly, the spell could only be broken by a miracle, and the messenger’s miracle hasn’t happened, and he sleeps to this very day, waiting for his miracle.”
*end flashback*

“Mommy?” Rosti looked up at me with his warm chocolate eyes, “Is Cawy da messaga?” I smiled down at Rosti, “Yes, Rosti, Carey’s the messenger. He’s waiting for his miracle, so he can wake up.”

Rosti slid off my lap, and teetered over to Price’s bed. He climbed onto the bed and pried Carey’s eyes open, looking into the chocolate vastness. He let Carey’s eyelids go and hugged Price on the bed. “Cawy, I hope you find yoa miwaco.” Rosti carefully lowered himself back onto the ground and ran into my arms.

“Mommy, do you beweave in miwacos?” Rosti asked curiously.

“Yes, baby. I believe in miracles. Are you ready to go? Daddy should be off work now.” I lifted my son into my arms and walked out of Carey Price’s room. Before I shut the door behind me, I whispered to Price, “I hope you find your miracle too, Carey.”

-----Carey Price’s P.O.V-----
Marissa came to visit again today. I could recognize her footsteps anywhere, but there was somebody with her this time. A child. He held my hand and told me a story of a messenger and a maiden. Rosti, was what Marissa called him. And Rosti called Marissa mommy. Rosti…Marissa and Burrow’s son. Rosti asked about the messenger, he asked if the messenger was me. Marissa said yes. I am the one in need of a miracle…but how can I find one laying here? I don’t need to get up to find one, because one found me. It was little Rosti. When he pried my eyes open, I could see his deep brown eyes and the wavy brown hair. He looked like me. Oh god… Rosti wasn’t Burrows’…he was mine…I created him when I was drunk and raped Marissa…but that miracle child…he was mine.

I forced my eyes to open and my arms to move, which they hadn’t done in three years. At first, my arms refused to function. But after attempting several times, I finally was able to lift it to call the nurse. Immediately, she came rushing in, startled. She helped me sit up, and gave me some water to drink. My body was sore, but I could shake that off in a couple days. Scars designed my chest where they had removed the bullets in my heart and lungs.

I held the glass in my hands, slowly feeling better as I grew accustomed to my surroundings. I wiggled my toes back and forth and shifted my legs. God, my legs felt like a sumo wrestler had been sitting on them.

The nurse set a hand on my shoulder, “Don’t push yourself, yet. We don’t need you to get hurt again. Just work on the basics. Try speaking.”

“O…okay.” My voice came out in a raspy whisper. I took a deep breath and tried again. “Ok. I’ll try.” This time, I sounded stronger, and more confident. “I want…” I inhaled deeply again, “I want to see…the Burrows family.”

The nurse smiled gently at me. “They’ll be in tomorrow, until then we want you in tip top shape when they come in and see you awake after three years. I guess your miracle came after all.” She paused, “I’ll be back with some food. I bet you are hungry.”

She was right. I was starving. Tomorrow I’ll be able to see my renowned friend, Burrows, my best friend, Marissa…and my little boy…my little Rosti.

----end p.o.v----

Burrows’ P.O.V

When Mac opened the door to our house, I stood up and kissed her cheek. I tousled Rostislav’s wavy brown locks. It was crazy how much he looked like Price. “How is he, Hun?”

She shook her head, “About the same. I’m hoping that miracles work over night. Otherwise…” she paused and swallowed hard, “Otherwise they are going to pull the plug on him.” I could see the water gathering in her eyes, as she tried not to cry.

I pulled her into my arms, “I know it is hard. But if he doesn’t wake up soon…there is no other choice. We’ll go see him as a family tomorrow.” I kissed the top of her head and held her out at arms length, “Ok? Watch, we’ll go in and he’ll be fine tomorrow. Sometimes, miracles work over night.”

My hands fell to my sides. “I’m going to shower, then you, me and Little Ros can watch a movie to ease our minds. How does that sound?”

Mac gave me a weak smile, “That sounds great. We’ll search through our DVDs and find one that Little Ros might want to watch.” She turned her back to me and took Rosti’s hand. “Come on, Rosti. We’re going to find a movie to watch.”

Our son beamed at his mother, in pure delight. “I wanna watch Miwaco, Momma.” Miracle. Nothing seemed more suited in our situation. Price needed a Miracle, and I needed to show my wife that miracles can happen.