The Greatest Showman #847 - Fight Alone

Perhaps it's the towering skyscrapers, but the sky in New York always seems unnervingly close to the ground. It feels as if you could simply stretch out your hand, stand on tiptoe, and with a little more effort, you could touch the clouds. Yet, this proximity feels suffocating, as though the sky could collapse at any moment, crushing everything beneath it. Mount Sinai Hospital, shrouded in mist, seems no exception, its form indistinct, as though it's on the brink of falling apart.

The white corridor stretches out endlessly ahead, its depth almost unnerving. As Renly walks, his footsteps gradually slow, and an unspoken hesitation begins to seep into his movement. He spots Ellie in the distance, sitting on a bench, her frail form hunched as she wraps her arms around her shoulders. The chill of the hospital air makes her tremble, her eyes distant, lost in a moment of helplessness.

For a fleeting second, Renly feels as though he's seeing Ding Yanan instead. The illusion stops him, his footsteps faltering slightly.

In the next moment, Ellie looks up, catching sight of Renly. Her face lights up with surprise. "Renly," she breathes, her voice filled with emotion.

The brief illusion shatters, and Renly continues forward, offering a soft, "Ellie."

Ellie stands, her arms opening instinctively, and Renly pulls her into a tight embrace. "Sorry. Thank you. I—I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do. You really came. Jesus, thank you. Thank you so much. I know I shouldn't have called you, but… but…" Her words tumble out in a rush, a frantic mixture of gratitude and apology.

"Ellie, Ellie." Renly's voice is calm and soothing, gently anchoring her emotions. "Heather is my friend, and I'm happy to help," he reassures her, giving her a brief but comforting pat on the arm. "Where's Derek? How is Heather?"

Ellie wipes her tear-streaked face, looking drained. "Derek went out for a smoke. Jesus, he's been smoke-free for over ten years," she says with a quiet laugh, but then closes her eyes and refocuses. "We're okay. Heather…"

Her voice cracks, choking with emotion. "Heather made it through the danger zone. The doctor said she should wake up within forty-eight hours, but she hasn't. We don't know why. The doctor only said she... doesn't want to wake up." Ellie's hand trembles violently as she tries to cover her mouth. "I want her to wake up. I want my baby to wake up."

Renly quietly pulls a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and hands it to Ellie, his voice low and steady. "Ellie, Heather will wake up. Don't forget what you've always said. She's the strongest, bravest one in the Cross family." His words echo her own past praises for Heather, who had repeatedly overcome obstacles during her rehabilitation, each time emerging stronger.

Ellie nods weakly, but the emotion catches in her throat, leaving her speechless.

After a moment, Renly gently presses on. "What's going on? Didn't the doctors say Heather's recovery was going well? Didn't the rehab results look promising?"

Ellie's shoulders slump in exhaustion, her face etched with helplessness. "The doctor said her condition suddenly deteriorated. It's not about her limbs—it's her ability to swallow and speak. The whole system in her throat was attacked, and now she's struggling to breathe. They can't do much to stop it. Even the rehab is limited. Then…" Her voice breaks again, as the painful memories resurface.

"The decline has been so fast—just three weeks, and it's worse than the last three years combined," she says, her eyes vacant as if she's looking past the present into something too painful to face. "A few days ago, she was preparing for the 'American Idol' audition. Even with her condition worsening, she couldn't let go. She said she still wanted to perform. She wanted to be on that stage so badly."

"But now…" Ellie swallows hard, her voice cracking.

Renly's expression softens, and he speaks quietly, "There's still hope. September isn't far away. There's another chance."

Ellie looks up at him, eyes wide, the faintest glimmer of hope returning to them. "Really?"

Renly holds her gaze, biting back the lump in his throat. "Ellie, we have to believe in Heather. That's the only way she'll make it."

Ellie straightens her back, her fists clenching with determination. "I believe in Heather. She's always the one who refuses to give up. She has dreams left to chase. She will wake up. She will."

Renly can't bring himself to look away. But he knows that to reignite Ellie's hope is a dangerous thing, both kind and cruel. He believes in Heather, believes that this stubborn, fierce girl will fight back, refusing to succumb to fate.

"Can I go in and see Heather?" Renly asks, his voice soft but resolute, pointing toward the ward.

"Of course." Ellie quickly wipes her tears away, her voice shaky but thankful. "The two little ones are with her. The doctor says Heather can hear us. We need to talk to her, help her find the strength to wake up. So, those two are telling her stories."

Renly walks toward the ward, peering through the glass window. Inside, Anne Silliman and Alex Ritchie sit side by side, enthusiastically telling stories, gesturing animatedly. The faint sound of their voices drifts through the door.

"...The little rabbit just woke up!" Anne says, her voice filled with excitement.

"No, no! The little rabbit is still asleep. The tortoise is walking faster and faster. The rabbit's still asleep." Alex protests.

"But if the rabbit doesn't wake up, she loses."

"Yeah, so the rabbit loses. You little idiot, this story is about the rabbit losing."

"I don't like that. I want the rabbit to win!" Anne says, her pout turning into a grin. "Renly! You're back!"

Anne jumps off her stool and rushes into Renly's arms. Renly squats down, catching her in a warm embrace. "How's Heather? Still sleeping?" Anne nods solemnly. "She's really lazy and doesn't want to wake up. Anita says Heather's like Sleeping Beauty, waiting for us to wake her up. So, Alex and I are telling her stories."

Alex, still sitting on the chair, shyly glances at Renly. When he notices Renly gesturing to him, he jumps down and stumbles over to Renly's side, curling into the crook of his arm.

Renly smiles, lightly patting Alex on the head. "How about you? Are you okay? Do you need to come back to the hospital?"

"No! I'm strong now! Stronger than my classmates—except... except for Edward and Henry." Alex's nervousness is evident, but his pride shines through.

Renly chuckles. "I knew Alex was the strongest, even stronger than Captain America." Alex beams, lifting his chin with a grin, his eyes sparkling with joy.

"How about you take a break from telling stories? I'll tell Heather one for a while," Renly suggests, looking at the two little ones. Both nod enthusiastically and leave the room.

With the children gone, the room falls into a peaceful silence. Renly approaches Heather's bed and sits at her side, gazing at her. Her quiet stillness reminds him of a sleeping beauty, her skin flawless, her long lashes resting delicately. He can almost imagine a prince standing over her, waiting for her to awaken.

Renly's lips curl into a small smile. "Heather, for Sleeping Beauty, your hair's gotten a bit wild. I think your prince might be scared away if he comes over."

It's a weak, awkward joke, but Heather doesn't respond, her eyes still closed.

Renly falls into silence again. There's so much he wants to say, but he can't find the words.

"The 'American Idol' audition starts tomorrow. Do you regret not participating? Or do you just feel you're not confident enough to sing my song well? Honestly, I think it's the latter. If you ask me, I suggest you drop the guitar. You're not good at it. Just sing a capella. Your voice is what matters."

...

"I won an award in Berlin. I told you I'm an actor, not a singer. See? Acting suits me better. Even Berlin agrees. But I don't think you'd like that work. At least, not as much as 'Crazy Love.' And if you ever meet a guy you like, I'd recommend not taking him to watch 'Crazy Love.' It's probably not a good idea."

...

"The Grammys are this weekend. I was thinking about going, but now, I'm not so sure. Maybe I'll just make some coffee at home and read a book instead."

He speaks to her, but there's no response. Heather remains motionless, her breathing barely audible.

"This isn't the Heather I know," Renly mutters softly. "The Heather I know is a warrior. She never gives up, keeps fighting. She's braver than anyone, and makes me feel small. But this... this isn't you. You're just lying there, giving up." He pauses, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. "No. You're not Heather Cross. You're a coward."