Nightmares had nothing on real life. For months now Rosalie had spent the vast majority of her days sitting in a stiff, uncomfortable chair next to a hospital bed. Mentally and emotionally drained, she often thought she didn't have much else to give. Yet she still showed up every day she could to be with Ava. The girl was small, so very small for a child of five, and though she was scared she was so brave. When she had the strength she talked and laughed with her parents. When she didn't she held onto their hands, and they may have thought they were comforting her, but Ava knew that the reverse was the case. The child had realized what her condition meant, what it could mean for her if she didn't get a bone marrow transplant. Neither of her parents were a match, and they couldn't go to their extended family; Rosalie did not keep in contact with hers, and Sal was the last of his. Ava understood that she might die and she faced that possibility with a childlike certainty. Rosalie could not do that.
Lack of sleep, continuing fear, and the anger born of helplessness turned Rosalie's temperament sour. She smoothed down the white linen sheets on Ava's bed with a glare at the nurse that came through the door. He was young, no older than his mid twenties, with dark hair and a perpetual smile. That smile faltered when he saw the unfriendly look on her face.
"Good morning Mrs. Harris," he greeted with a dose of professionalism. "Would you like some breakfast? We can bring you a tray when we come up to give Ava hers."
She had to respect his courage, Rosalie mused distantly. A lesser man may have cowered under her chilly stare, but he did not. "Yes, thank you," she said blandly. He nodded and left, more than happy to be away from her.
Rosalie sighed and rubbed her tired eyes, accented by heavy bags underneath. She knew she was acting irrationally and guilt gnawed at her stomach for the way she'd talked to the nurse. It was the way she'd treated everyone, really. Though she tried to be bright and encouraging for Ava she knew the child sensed the shallowness of the encouragement and the affection. When Sal touched her, seeking reassurance, she didn't shrink away from him but she remained stiff and impassive. She could feel him slipping away but she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it. It was hard enough to keep herself moving.
The lump under the blankets stirred and the head of a small girl popped out. At one time Ava had thick, white-blonde hair like her mother's, yet with more of the golden influence of her father. Now she looked so very small with no hair at all; her golden brown eyes appeared much too large for her head.
"When's breakfast momma?" she asked with a wide yawn. Rosalie jumped into the sad replica of motherhood she'd put forth so much lately.
"Nurse Ferris just came in and said breakfast would be coming soon. Do you need to go to the bathroom?"
Ava nodded, eyes bleary with sleep, and Rosalie helped her up. She tried not to think about how light Ava was as the girl leaned against her. Ava insisted on doing as much as she could by herself, though, and she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and hesitated, staring sadly into the mirror for a moment. This was when she would have brushed her hair. Before her mother could see, though, she smiled up at her and took her hand again.
"I'm ready to go back to bed. Can we play cards for a while?"
Of course Rosalie said they could. She would give her anything she wanted. She helped Ava back into her bed and the girl fished a plush Meowth from the sea of blankets. They played Go Fish for a while before Sal came, able to spend the day at the hospital after feeding the family pets. Rosalie glanced up at him and when Ava jumped at the chance for him to join in the game Rosalie rose and excused herself. She'd be back, she really would, but she needed... out. She needed some air.
Rosalie rode the elevator down to the ground floor. As she passed the help desk the nurse called out to her.
"Mrs. Harris! I have a package for you here!"
With a confused frown Rosalie changed direction and came to stand at the desk, which only came up just below her breasts. It occurred to her that she would look like a child herself in this specialty children's hospital, if it weren't for the stress on her face. "Why would it be sent here? Why not to my home?"
The nurse had no answers for her, but Rosalie took it anyway. The box was small and plain with no return address. She thanked her distantly and then continued her trip to the outside. In the courtyard there was a fountain, probably meant to make the hospital grounds look beautiful and inviting. Rosalie considered this thought with aggressive distaste. What a farce this all was. Her chest was full of uncomfortable, burning anger as she sat down on the edge of the fountain and tore open the package. At the moment she didn't care that bits of cardboard fell onto the ground. Inside the box was a plain white earpiece with a blinking green light. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at it. She hadn't ordered it and she couldn't imagine who it could have come from. Her upbringing had taught her to see anything in the mail as a threat when the sender wasn't identified. Still, she felt reckless. She lifted it and set it securely into her ear.
"Hello," a warm, soothing woman's voice greeted her. "We are aware of your stressful situation involving a loved one and we are prepared to offer you a special cure that is guaranteed to work. You are invited to become a contender in The Race. If you are interested, please make your way to Celadon City's Hotel within 48 hours."
Rosalie sat still, distantly surprised. She'd heard of The Race, of course, but knew it was invitation only and had not hoped for such a thing to be offered to her. It took her little time at all to decide. If there was any chance at all that it could help Ava she was going to do it. The trip back up to Ava's room went in a blur. Instead of participating in yet another round of Go Fish she pulled Sal into the hall to tell him.
And he didn't like it at all. "How do you know it's legitimate?" he demanded, swelling up. "Ava needs you here, not off chasing a distant chance that what they're offering actually works!"
Rosalie swelled up just as much. "Honestly, Sal! She needs something done, and sitting there waiting for her to die isn't helping anything!"
Sal flinched at the frankness of her wording. "Is that what you think? We're just waiting on a donor, but she's strong. She's going to be okay."
There was a desperation in his tone that needled at Rosalie's heart. Her next retort was already on her tongue, but she swallowed it. Her eyes filled with tears and she reached out to him, wrapping her arms tight around him. He melted against her and for a moment they clung to each other, desperate for comfort and hope, both trying hard not to cry. When they parted she looked up at him, still determined, still fierce.
"I love you, Sal. You know that, and I love Ava. But I've got to try."
The certainty in her voice made it clear that Sal was not to argue. He sighed and ran both hands through his hair. Finally he said, "Come back to us, okay? It's dangerous."
And Rosalie promised she would.
Ava didn't take the news as poorly as they anticipated. She hugged her mother, told her she loved her, and that was that. It was the warmth Rosalie needed to give her the strength to pack up and follow the instructions. She traveled from Saffron City to Celadon the next day. She'd showered and dressed well, hair pulled up in a ponytail, makeup forsaken. This was not a beauty contest and all that mattered was winning. As she approached the hotel she looked up, hesitated for only a moment, and went confidently through the doors.
