Work Text:
Having bathed her, brushed her hair, applied a dermal regenerator to the areas of her body susceptible to pressure injury, and performed the recommended maintenance of her muscles with a course of electrical stimulation, Isaac sits down beside his wife's bed.
He has performed this sequence of actions ninety-four times now, on ninety-four consecutive days. Ordinarily, such duties would be carried out by biological medical personnel in a hospital setting. But since he possesses all the necessary expertise and is quite capable of attending to her needs around the clock without a requirement for rest, he has been able to keep her in their home during this time. A most preferable arrangement.
He takes Claire's hand. Her fingers have become significantly thinner in the course of the last ninety-four days, and he is careful not to dislodge her wedding ring. In the now-improbable event that she recovers consciousness, she would not be pleased to find it gone.
He has been advised to speak to her. Her physicians, as well as others, have suggested that she may still be able in some fashion to perceive the sound of voices. His own analysis of her brain scans have led him to conclude that, while unlikely, this is not impossible. If such a capacity does exist, he has been told, it may prove comforting to her to hear the voice of a loved one. He therefore spends much of his time talking to her.
While it is even less likely that she retains any ability to understand the meaning of his words, it nevertheless would appear reasonable to speak to her on subjects that, were she functioning optimally, she would find of interest.
Thus he begins, as always, with a full report of her medical status, including all biometric readings. Consistent with the trend of the last nineteen days, her brain and organ function have continued to deteriorate. He estimates there is now a 95% probability that this deterioration will soon pass a threshold beyond which further collapse will lead rapidly to death. He has also noted some mildly anomalous activity in the hippocampus, which he believes she would find professionally intriguing. He regrets that he cannot consult her medical opinion on the matter, and tells her so.
Following this, as usual, he moves on to the day's news. He believes she would be particularly pleased to know of today's reports of continuing political reform on Moclus, including a substantial increase in the number of females holding government appointments, so he recounts these in detail.
As he concludes, there is an abrupt drop in neurotransmitter levels. He lowers her hand to the bed, stands, and prepares 5cc of corvorazine, which he delivers intramuscularly. The drop slows, but does not stabilize. A higher dose would be irreparably toxic to human neural tissue, and neither Union medical science nor his own researches have produced a more effective drug. Therefore, there is little more to be done. Either the organic systems that make up her mental and physical being will improve on their own, or they will not.
He sits down, takes her hand again, and continues his daily routine with the delivery of information from their family. Since this time yesterday, he has participated in four personal communications, during which he inquired about details of their lives to pass along to her. Ty, he tells her, has received excellent reviews on his most recent compositional work, with a music critic from the Union Arts Observer describing his approach as "innovative" and "refreshing." His brother was able to successfully persuade him to go out for a drink yesterday to celebrate this achievement.
The rate of neural deterioration is increasing again. It appears his projections are likely to have been correct.
He tells her that their granddaughter, Mira, is continuing to have marital difficulties, but that she and her wife have decided to take the advice Claire offered them three hundred and forty-three days ago and attend counseling with the aim of preserving their union. This news would also please her, were she capable of comprehending it. He is quite certain, given the changes in her brain function readings over the last several minutes, that this is now entirely impossible. There is, however, some small chance that whatever remains of her consciousness is still capable of responding, however minimally, to the sound of his voice.
He tells her that their youngest great-grandchild is continuing to achieve human development milestones ahead of statistically projected expectations, and that she was recently observed pulling herself into a sitting position without assistance. Her parents described the operation as "cute."
Neural function levels are plummeting. Odds of recovery are now zero.
He places his other hand atop hers. "All of them send their love," he says.
When he runs out of information he wishes to share with her, it has become his habit to recite texts held in his memory files. Most often he chooses medical papers or Clarie's favorite works of fiction. Today, he decides on a children's story that he has known, in the past, to prove comforting.
"Once upon a time," he begins, "there were four little Rabbits, and their names were— Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter."
There is a minute flicker of activity in the hippocampus again. An interesting statistical anomaly, but not one which will have any significant effect on the outcome.
"They lived with their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a very big fir-tree," he continues. "'Now my dears,' said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, 'you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor.'"
An alarm light flashes. It conveys no information he does not already have access to. He does not redirect any processing capacity to it.
"'Now run along, and don't get into mischief,'" he says, and her brain function ceases.
His marriage has lasted eighteen thousand seven hundred and fifty-four days.
He releases her hand, still taking care not to dislodge the ring. He rises, and begins shutting down the life support and monitoring devices. He registers an official time and cause of death with the appropriate record-keeping authorities.
It is most fortunate that these are extremely simple tasks. His operational efficiency is notably sub-optimal.
He will take a moment to attempt to regain some functionality, and then he will begin calling to inform Claire's descendants. His family.
He believes that it will be good to hear their voices now.