[It's been a week since Pitfall, and the PPDC is still a flurry of activity. There's a million debriefs, a million things to sort out, interviews and paperwork and meetings to decide what the hell happens to the program now. Mako argues that they shouldn't shut it down, that they should be prepared in the event the kaiju return, but she suspects that a good number of people she speaks to are convinced she just doesn't want to let the program go.
So, Mako throws herself into her work, trying to stay busy and bury her grief. Too many of them have died for this, and now they're left with four rangers and no jaegers. Chuck is still in medical, still in terrible shape, from what Mako knows of her last check in. She doesn't quite know how to handle it. She feels compelled to visit, even if she's not entirely sure that he'd want her there. It's a way to play support for Herc, if nothing else, so for the third time in the seven days since they found him, Mako finds herself heading back to his room, wondering if he'll ever wake up.]
Chuck's body is completely shut down, unresponsive to any of the commands his brain is sending to his muscles, but damn it, they're not listening. Its as if they're a young Chuck ignoring questions from Herc, doing the complete opposite. His rationale is that he must ne in a coma, whether it's medically induced or not, he isn't quite sure, but based on the bit of required medical training he had been required to have, this sounds like what was described.
The past week had been a whirlwind of confusion, frustration and emotion. It was if Chuck's mind was going through the stages of grief. He spent the first hours between consciousness and not denying that he had been injured that badly, and screaming at himself to open his bloody eyes and wake up form this bloody awful dream. Then he was angry. Angry that the medical team and his father were making decisions about his care as if he wasn't even in the room. He was dammit. He was in the middle of the fucking room hooked up to all these freaking wires with a breathing tube down his throat. If they stopped feeding his body shit to keep him unconscious, he would open his eyes, flip them off and storm back to his quarters.
The bargaining stage was hard, Chuck was never one to beg, but the promises he had made to every higher being he could possibly think of would ensure that Max, his Dad, Mako, and hell, even Raleigh were set for life without anything being due back in return. He just wanted to wake up. Hercules Hansen was the cause for the forth stage, depression. Chuck's mind was active again, and he had to listen to his father sob uncontrollably, apologize to Chuck for everything that he had ever done that made Chuck resent him, taking ownership for the shit Chuck put on him instead of dealing with himself like Chuck should have done. It broke his heart, the one he keeps locked away behind thousands of impenetrable locks and layers, to be the reason to make the strongest man he knew reduce to the wrecked shadow that was clutching his sons hand, begging him to wake up, never hearing Chuck's yells of forgiveness and frustrated cries of him trying to wake up. That stage haunted Chuck for the longest amount of time, until just recently. Chuck had accepted that he wasn't going to wake up, he was going to continue to live this torture, never have the chance to make it right, because one day, probably soon, the Shatterdome will close, and they will take Chuck off life support, if that is what he is one, and he will stay in this darkness until his heart stops and he moves on.
One evening, it must have been evening, as the gentle hum of the equipment was the only sound that filled Chucks ears for a bit, the darkness that he had gotten used to changed to a searing white. The medical center was dark, all the lights had been dimmed for the overnight and to most, was a pleasant brightness, calming and soft, but for Chuck it was horrendous. Hi brain activity on the monitor would show, if anyone had been there, that there was a flurry of activity which was related to Chuck's excitement that his eyelids were functioning again. After a good solid hour, he was able to have them open and look around. He couldn't move his head yet, but his pupils were working and that was enough for the moment to placate the man who had come to terms with his own death, after not dying the first time he had comes to terms with it. How fickle.
His eyes darted to the door the instant it made a sound that it was opening. Mako. Huh. Odd, but he was happy to see her. He had no control of his body, or voice so he hoped she would come over to him and see that he had awoken.
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So, Mako throws herself into her work, trying to stay busy and bury her grief. Too many of them have died for this, and now they're left with four rangers and no jaegers. Chuck is still in medical, still in terrible shape, from what Mako knows of her last check in. She doesn't quite know how to handle it. She feels compelled to visit, even if she's not entirely sure that he'd want her there. It's a way to play support for Herc, if nothing else, so for the third time in the seven days since they found him, Mako finds herself heading back to his room, wondering if he'll ever wake up.]
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The past week had been a whirlwind of confusion, frustration and emotion. It was if Chuck's mind was going through the stages of grief. He spent the first hours between consciousness and not denying that he had been injured that badly, and screaming at himself to open his bloody eyes and wake up form this bloody awful dream. Then he was angry. Angry that the medical team and his father were making decisions about his care as if he wasn't even in the room. He was dammit. He was in the middle of the fucking room hooked up to all these freaking wires with a breathing tube down his throat. If they stopped feeding his body shit to keep him unconscious, he would open his eyes, flip them off and storm back to his quarters.
The bargaining stage was hard, Chuck was never one to beg, but the promises he had made to every higher being he could possibly think of would ensure that Max, his Dad, Mako, and hell, even Raleigh were set for life without anything being due back in return. He just wanted to wake up. Hercules Hansen was the cause for the forth stage, depression. Chuck's mind was active again, and he had to listen to his father sob uncontrollably, apologize to Chuck for everything that he had ever done that made Chuck resent him, taking ownership for the shit Chuck put on him instead of dealing with himself like Chuck should have done. It broke his heart, the one he keeps locked away behind thousands of impenetrable locks and layers, to be the reason to make the strongest man he knew reduce to the wrecked shadow that was clutching his sons hand, begging him to wake up, never hearing Chuck's yells of forgiveness and frustrated cries of him trying to wake up. That stage haunted Chuck for the longest amount of time, until just recently. Chuck had accepted that he wasn't going to wake up, he was going to continue to live this torture, never have the chance to make it right, because one day, probably soon, the Shatterdome will close, and they will take Chuck off life support, if that is what he is one, and he will stay in this darkness until his heart stops and he moves on.
One evening, it must have been evening, as the gentle hum of the equipment was the only sound that filled Chucks ears for a bit, the darkness that he had gotten used to changed to a searing white. The medical center was dark, all the lights had been dimmed for the overnight and to most, was a pleasant brightness, calming and soft, but for Chuck it was horrendous. Hi brain activity on the monitor would show, if anyone had been there, that there was a flurry of activity which was related to Chuck's excitement that his eyelids were functioning again. After a good solid hour, he was able to have them open and look around. He couldn't move his head yet, but his pupils were working and that was enough for the moment to placate the man who had come to terms with his own death, after not dying the first time he had comes to terms with it. How fickle.
His eyes darted to the door the instant it made a sound that it was opening. Mako. Huh. Odd, but he was happy to see her. He had no control of his body, or voice so he hoped she would come over to him and see that he had awoken.