sunday_reveries Picking up the pieces and pasting them together.
For reference, the stories in this series are archived here. Characters used with permission. I listened to this song on endless repeat while writing this ;)
prompt: "That is why my feelings always come in twos. That is why I am like a man who tears up a letter and then has second thoughts, picking up the pieces and pasting them together again with great pains. Sometimes for the rest of his life."
-Yehuda Amichai
--
When Cassie was five and a half she fell off a ladder and hit her head. The doctors at the emergency room told Helena she had a concussion and she'd have to keep her daughter up all night or she could slip into a coma. She'd taken her home and spent the night telling her stories about the Greek Amazons of legend. Myth. "Historians can't agree," she'd explained, "if they existed. But I believe."
The doctors can't tell her anything. The coma is a result of head trauma. Normally they might try surgery, but each scan shows different progress. They aren't certain it should even be classified as a coma, except she won't wake up.
She won't wake up. And they, none of them, can do anything but wait and see.
Helena stands outside her daughter's hospital room, staring at the wall. It bears the sword and snake that represents hospital, medicine, healing. The sign of Apollo. Apollo, god of healers; Apollo, god of the arts, music, athletics, youth; Apollo, god of the sun and twin to Artemis, or in Rome --
Diana comes and goes more than any of them but when she leaves it is not to shower, or sleep, or just get away from it for a time. Helena wonders if she has slept at all since it happened. She doesn't wonder what Diana does instead of sleeping. It's knowledge she doesn't want.
Diana had been gone a few hours or so, Helena has little sense of time. She doesn't want to count the hours, the days, Cassie is in a coma. Diana looks angry as she walks down the corridor, but when she catches sight of Helena her face goes blank, the anger turning to guilt in her eyes before they go blank, too. She doesn't say anything as she passes, just lays a hand briefly on Helena's arm and steps past her to confer with Alfred. Helena continues to stare at the wall.
The door slamming closed let Helena know Cassie had arrived home. She'd been waiting all day, knowing Cassie would need some Mom time after Cissie's farewell, even if she didn't want it. She walked up the stairs with a tray of tea and cookies, entering the room uninvited. Cassie was face down on the bed, poking -- punching -- the Arrowette teddy bear Cissie had given her for her birthday.
"Cassie, honey..."
She didn't look up. "I don't want to talk about it." Helena put her tray down and joined her daughter on the bed. She laid a hand on her shoulder. Cassie shrugged it off, but spoke in a rush. "We're supposed to be a team. Forever. She said forever. She promised." Cassie emphasized each word with another poke at the bear; Helena moved her hand to take it away before there was no bear left.
"You're a team in a different way."
Cassie turned with unrepentant anger. "It's not fair." Helena could see the truth in her eyes. I need her, they said, I can't do this without her.
"She's your best friend."
"I don't care." Cassie flounced back to her position staring at the wall and grabbed another stuffed animal to poke. "I hate this. I hate her!"
"Cassie, stop it." She pulled the second toy away. "You are the one being unfair."
Cassie paused a split second, indicating she knew it. Knew exactly how childish she was being. But her eyes hardened. "Go away. I said I don't want to talk about it."
"Dr. Sandsmark? Are you okay?" Cissie is standing at her elbow; Helena doesn't know how much time has passed. "I mean..." The girl's voice trails off. She means to say she knows Helena isn't okay but.... But she can't put it into words. Helena gives her a small, soft smile and nods. She understands. Cissie gives her arm a squeeze and moves away to leave her to her thoughts.
Mom, did you see it? Did you see her? She won! She won gold!
Mom, they picked me. I'm the leader.
Mom, Kon kissed me!
Mom, of course he's not okay. His dad is dead.
Mom, I got into NYU!
Mom, I'm leaving the Titans.
Mom, try to look normal for the picture, okay?
Mom, Bart and Cissie are getting married!
Mom, you forgot the time difference again.
Helena blinks at tears as the memories collide in her mind.
Mom, I'm doing this. You can't stop me.
Mom, I'm Wonder Girl! Don't you understand what that means?
Mom, it's not up to you anymore. You should have thought about that before you decided to have sex with a god.
Mom....Donna...
Mama...Conner...
Mom...Bart...
She remembers looking through Donna's photo albums after her memorial. Cassie had been so intent. She thinks it was that moment photography began to matter to her daughter, even though she didn't do anything about it for years.
Donna's here now. And Kon. And Bart. All here but she still remembers Cassie's voice breaking.
Mom....Donna...
Mama...Conner...
Mom...Bart...
Helena...Cassie....
Helena gasps. She turns and nearly runs into the room. She needs to see her. Nothing has changed since she left, she doesn't know how long ago. Bart and Kon are sitting by the window, sometimes speaking in hushed tones, sometimes just sitting silently. Watching. Waiting. Cassie is in her hospital bed, still but for the breath moving her chest up and down. Her hand is held in Tim's. He hasn't moved from her side.
"How was your date with Tim?" Helena asked as Cassie walked past her and into the kitchen.
"I broke up with him."
"What? Why?"
She shrugged. "Diana doesn't have a boyfriend. You don't."
"...Cassie." Helena didn't know what to say. She joined her daughter at the kitchen table and placed a hand over Cassie's.
"I'm okay, Mom."
Helena shook her head. "I don't want you to be okay, Cassie. I want you to be happy."
Cassie's eyes narrowed. "I don't need --"
"I know," Helena interrupted. "But it's okay if having someone does make you happy.
Cassie shook her head and pulled her hand away, visibly closing in on herself.
Helena took a breath. "Give him a call."
"I can't."
"He'll understand."
"No." Cassie swallowed; tears had sprung to her eyes. She blinked at them to no effect. Helena stood and gathered her into her arms. "I love him." Cassie's voice was a whisper through her tears. "I can't..." Everything broke; Helena held her until she had no tears left.
Tim is looking at her with questions in his eyes; Helena doesn't remember pulling him into an embrace, but it makes sense. She shakes her head and with another quick hug lets him go and moves to sit in her place on the other side of the bed. She nods at Bart and Kon, watching from the window. She can't read their expressions, or Tim's anymore, her focus is Cassie.
"Historians can't agree," she'd explained, "if they existed. But I believe."
"Like what, Mama?"
"Like when little girls in Greece would hit their head, their mommies would help them sleep instead of keeping them awake. Doctors say that's bad and teachers say the stories probably mean a coma --"
"Coma?"
"When the little girl is sleeping so deeply nothing can wake her up."
"Like Endymion?"
Helena smiled that her daughter knew Greek mythology better than Disney stories like Sleeping Beauty. "Right. But sometimes people can wake up from a coma so teachers think that's what the stories mean. But I like to think maybe the Amazons knew real magic."
"I'm sleepy, Mama. Can you teach me?"
"I don't know the magic."
"Only Amazons do?"
She nodded. "Right."
"I want to be an Amazon and do magic."
Helena smiled. "You can do anything you want to, little bird. You can be anything you want to be."
"I love you, Mama."
Helena leaned down to Cassie's ear and whispered, "I love you, too."
prompt: "That is why my feelings always come in twos. That is why I am like a man who tears up a letter and then has second thoughts, picking up the pieces and pasting them together again with great pains. Sometimes for the rest of his life."
-Yehuda Amichai
--
When Cassie was five and a half she fell off a ladder and hit her head. The doctors at the emergency room told Helena she had a concussion and she'd have to keep her daughter up all night or she could slip into a coma. She'd taken her home and spent the night telling her stories about the Greek Amazons of legend. Myth. "Historians can't agree," she'd explained, "if they existed. But I believe."
The doctors can't tell her anything. The coma is a result of head trauma. Normally they might try surgery, but each scan shows different progress. They aren't certain it should even be classified as a coma, except she won't wake up.
She won't wake up. And they, none of them, can do anything but wait and see.
Helena stands outside her daughter's hospital room, staring at the wall. It bears the sword and snake that represents hospital, medicine, healing. The sign of Apollo. Apollo, god of healers; Apollo, god of the arts, music, athletics, youth; Apollo, god of the sun and twin to Artemis, or in Rome --
Diana comes and goes more than any of them but when she leaves it is not to shower, or sleep, or just get away from it for a time. Helena wonders if she has slept at all since it happened. She doesn't wonder what Diana does instead of sleeping. It's knowledge she doesn't want.
Diana had been gone a few hours or so, Helena has little sense of time. She doesn't want to count the hours, the days, Cassie is in a coma. Diana looks angry as she walks down the corridor, but when she catches sight of Helena her face goes blank, the anger turning to guilt in her eyes before they go blank, too. She doesn't say anything as she passes, just lays a hand briefly on Helena's arm and steps past her to confer with Alfred. Helena continues to stare at the wall.
The door slamming closed let Helena know Cassie had arrived home. She'd been waiting all day, knowing Cassie would need some Mom time after Cissie's farewell, even if she didn't want it. She walked up the stairs with a tray of tea and cookies, entering the room uninvited. Cassie was face down on the bed, poking -- punching -- the Arrowette teddy bear Cissie had given her for her birthday.
"Cassie, honey..."
She didn't look up. "I don't want to talk about it." Helena put her tray down and joined her daughter on the bed. She laid a hand on her shoulder. Cassie shrugged it off, but spoke in a rush. "We're supposed to be a team. Forever. She said forever. She promised." Cassie emphasized each word with another poke at the bear; Helena moved her hand to take it away before there was no bear left.
"You're a team in a different way."
Cassie turned with unrepentant anger. "It's not fair." Helena could see the truth in her eyes. I need her, they said, I can't do this without her.
"She's your best friend."
"I don't care." Cassie flounced back to her position staring at the wall and grabbed another stuffed animal to poke. "I hate this. I hate her!"
"Cassie, stop it." She pulled the second toy away. "You are the one being unfair."
Cassie paused a split second, indicating she knew it. Knew exactly how childish she was being. But her eyes hardened. "Go away. I said I don't want to talk about it."
"Dr. Sandsmark? Are you okay?" Cissie is standing at her elbow; Helena doesn't know how much time has passed. "I mean..." The girl's voice trails off. She means to say she knows Helena isn't okay but.... But she can't put it into words. Helena gives her a small, soft smile and nods. She understands. Cissie gives her arm a squeeze and moves away to leave her to her thoughts.
Mom, did you see it? Did you see her? She won! She won gold!
Mom, they picked me. I'm the leader.
Mom, Kon kissed me!
Mom, of course he's not okay. His dad is dead.
Mom, I got into NYU!
Mom, I'm leaving the Titans.
Mom, try to look normal for the picture, okay?
Mom, Bart and Cissie are getting married!
Mom, you forgot the time difference again.
Helena blinks at tears as the memories collide in her mind.
Mom, I'm doing this. You can't stop me.
Mom, I'm Wonder Girl! Don't you understand what that means?
Mom, it's not up to you anymore. You should have thought about that before you decided to have sex with a god.
Mom....Donna...
Mama...Conner...
Mom...Bart...
She remembers looking through Donna's photo albums after her memorial. Cassie had been so intent. She thinks it was that moment photography began to matter to her daughter, even though she didn't do anything about it for years.
Donna's here now. And Kon. And Bart. All here but she still remembers Cassie's voice breaking.
Mom....Donna...
Mama...Conner...
Mom...Bart...
Helena...Cassie....
Helena gasps. She turns and nearly runs into the room. She needs to see her. Nothing has changed since she left, she doesn't know how long ago. Bart and Kon are sitting by the window, sometimes speaking in hushed tones, sometimes just sitting silently. Watching. Waiting. Cassie is in her hospital bed, still but for the breath moving her chest up and down. Her hand is held in Tim's. He hasn't moved from her side.
"How was your date with Tim?" Helena asked as Cassie walked past her and into the kitchen.
"I broke up with him."
"What? Why?"
She shrugged. "Diana doesn't have a boyfriend. You don't."
"...Cassie." Helena didn't know what to say. She joined her daughter at the kitchen table and placed a hand over Cassie's.
"I'm okay, Mom."
Helena shook her head. "I don't want you to be okay, Cassie. I want you to be happy."
Cassie's eyes narrowed. "I don't need --"
"I know," Helena interrupted. "But it's okay if having someone does make you happy.
Cassie shook her head and pulled her hand away, visibly closing in on herself.
Helena took a breath. "Give him a call."
"I can't."
"He'll understand."
"No." Cassie swallowed; tears had sprung to her eyes. She blinked at them to no effect. Helena stood and gathered her into her arms. "I love him." Cassie's voice was a whisper through her tears. "I can't..." Everything broke; Helena held her until she had no tears left.
Tim is looking at her with questions in his eyes; Helena doesn't remember pulling him into an embrace, but it makes sense. She shakes her head and with another quick hug lets him go and moves to sit in her place on the other side of the bed. She nods at Bart and Kon, watching from the window. She can't read their expressions, or Tim's anymore, her focus is Cassie.
"Historians can't agree," she'd explained, "if they existed. But I believe."
"Like what, Mama?"
"Like when little girls in Greece would hit their head, their mommies would help them sleep instead of keeping them awake. Doctors say that's bad and teachers say the stories probably mean a coma --"
"Coma?"
"When the little girl is sleeping so deeply nothing can wake her up."
"Like Endymion?"
Helena smiled that her daughter knew Greek mythology better than Disney stories like Sleeping Beauty. "Right. But sometimes people can wake up from a coma so teachers think that's what the stories mean. But I like to think maybe the Amazons knew real magic."
"I'm sleepy, Mama. Can you teach me?"
"I don't know the magic."
"Only Amazons do?"
She nodded. "Right."
"I want to be an Amazon and do magic."
Helena smiled. "You can do anything you want to, little bird. You can be anything you want to be."
"I love you, Mama."
Helena leaned down to Cassie's ear and whispered, "I love you, too."