[February 28th] [Perry Mason] Candles and the Snow, 28

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: Candles and the Snow, scene 28
Day/Theme: February 28th - Teach me to forget myself, as melted snow forgets its life
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Hamilton Burger, Mignon Germaine, Larry Germaine, Perry Mason
Rating: PG

Time Period: Present day


By Lucky_Ladybug

There had been a steady stream of worried visitors to Central Receiving Hospital over the past couple of hours, all for the same two people. Hamilton and Mignon had each made many friends separately, in addition to their mutual friends. The nurses and receptionists were beginning to feel overwhelmed. There had also been calls from others, those who were unable to be present but had heard of the situation and wanted to know that their loved ones would be alright.

When Mignon opened her eyes, the weakness and the aches and pains instantly made themselves known. She winced, shutting her eyes against the glaring lights overhead. She partially wanted to go back to sleep. And yet . . . something told her she should not do that. That she could not do that.

“Mother?”

She stirred again at the sound of Larry’s worried voice. Prying open her eyes once more, she found him standing at the side of the bed, clutching the railing.

“Larry,” she mumbled. “What’s happened? Why are we here?”

“You’re in the hospital, Mother,” he said, leaning down. “Don’t you remember? You and Mr. Burger were . . .”

“Hamilton!” Mignon’s eyes flew open the rest of the way. “I remember—Mr. Norton’s house exploded. I was trying to protect Hamilton. Where is he?!” She reached up, seizing Larry’s wrist. The panic and anguish she had felt right before her last loss of consciousness was sweeping over her. Had it been founded?

“Mother, calm down!” Larry exclaimed. He tried to gently push her back into the pillows. “Mr. Burger’s alive; he’s in the room across the hall. The doctors think he’s going to be alright.”

“They think?” Mignon did not look the least bit calm. “What’s wrong with him?”

“The same as you,” Larry said. “You both got thrown a long way by the blast. And you were both knocked unconscious from it. He must’ve woke up at some point; he dragged you away from the grass and collapsed again on the driveway. You were like that when they found you. He hasn’t been awake since then.”

“And how long ago was that?” Mignon returned.

“A little less than a couple of hours,” Larry said. “Mother, you were both very lucky. The doctors are really sure that Mr. Burger will wake up and be fine.”

“You said they ‘thought’ he would, a few minutes ago,” Mignon pointed out.

Larry sighed. “It was a figure of speech.”

“I want to see him,” Mignon declared.

Larry was not pleased. He had known that was coming. “Mother, you need to rest,” he protested. “The doctor said . . .”

“I can’t rest until I’ve seen him,” Mignon said. She stared into her son’s eyes. “Please.”

Larry finally let out a sigh of resignation. “Okay,” he said. “I shouldn’t do it, but I’ll help you over there.”

Mignon pushed back the blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Shakily sitting up, she reached for her light blue robe and pulled it around her dark nightgown. When she moved to stand, Larry was ready to help if she needed it.

“I can make it,” she told him, but promptly swayed. Larry grabbed for her.

“You shouldn’t be up,” he sighed.

“I’m fine,” Mignon tried to assure him. “I just needed a moment to collect my bearings.”

Larry didn’t buy it. However, he led her in silence out of the room and across the hall. “Someone else might be in there,” he said. “Everyone showed up, worried about both you and Mr. Burger.”

Mignon nodded in approval. She opened the door slowly, not wanting to surprise whoever might be in there. She froze when she saw it was Perry. Despite hastening to close the door again and wait, she could not help catching a snippet of his words as it shut.

“I’m sorry this happened, Hamilton. You and Mrs. Germaine could have both been seriously injured—or worse.

“But I’m relieved at how it turned out instead. The doctors are sure you’ll be fine. Mrs. Germaine may very well have saved your life by throwing herself at you when the house blew up. We’ll be meeting in court before you know it.”

Mignon looked to Larry with questions in her eyes. “How does Mr. Mason know about that?” she wondered.

Larry sighed. “You were delirious when you were both brought in,” he said. “You said you were trying to protect him by doing that. Mother, you could have been killed yourself!”

“I know,” Mignon said. “It was a sudden impulse. But I couldn’t have done anything else. I would do anything to protect him, as I would do for you.”

Larry nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he said grudgingly. “It’s just that . . . Mother, I was so worried! When I got that call at the office, I couldn’t even think straight. I ran out of there with Miss Miller’s purse instead of my briefcase!”

Mignon raised an eyebrow, looking ever so slightly amused. “I hope you corrected your mistake.”

“Oh, of course I did,” retorted Larry. “That isn’t the point.”

Mignon touched his arm. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Perry stepped out of the room moments later. “Mrs. Germaine,” he said in a bit of surprise. “I wasn’t expecting to see you up so soon. I’m glad.”

“I wasn’t badly hurt,” Mignon said. “Mr. Mason, how is he?” She looked to him with concerned eyes that pled for the truth.

Perry smiled at her. “He’s still unconscious, but not in any serious danger as far as the doctors know. He’ll be alright, Mrs. Germaine.”

“Thank you,” Mignon said. She opened the door to slip inside.

“Is Mr. Drake feeling any more calm yet?” she heard Larry ask. “He looked so worried when he came barreling in here.”

“Oh, he’s still a bit antsy,” Perry answered, “but he’ll tell you he isn’t. I think he’s feeling a little better now that he knows the doctors’ prognosis, however.”

A slight smile twitched Mignon’s lips. How strange it was, to think of Paul Drake being so worried about Hamilton.

She advanced into the room. Hamilton was lying in the bed, quiet. But to her relief, he looked peaceful enough. If it were not for the beeping machines, she would think he was in a normal sleep.

“Hamilton?” she asked as she approached. “Larry and Mr. Mason both told me you’re going to be alright. I hope that’s true.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “I knew I had a bad feeling about that house.” Reaching down, she rested her hand on top of his. “Of course I imagine you’ll come up with a logical explanation for that, but it’s the truth.” She carried a fond tone in her voice as she spoke. “Hamilton Burger, the natural skeptic.

“It’s peculiar, how things happen sometimes,” she remarked. “I never would have once dreamed how that first meeting would change both of our lives. Here we are, over twenty-five years later, and we’re still good friends.

“In many ways, Hamilton, I have had a higher quality of life because of you. And I believe our friendship has made me a better person. I had become very aloof and cold before I met you. Once we started associating and gradually became friends, I felt that coldness begin to thaw.” She raised his hand, limp but warm in her grasp. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her voice caught and she looked down, bestowing a chaste kiss on his fingers as they lay across her hand.

Slowly she straightened, returning his hand gently to the mattress. But when she moved to let go, her hand was grabbed in turn. She went stiff.

“Mignon . . .” Hamilton’s eyes were half-open now. He watched her, searching her eyes, satisfying himself that she was alright. “I was worried.”

Mignon could not help the light chuckle of irony and relief. “You were worried! I woke up long before you, Hamilton.”

“You were trying to shield me,” Hamilton remembered. “I thought you’d been hurt bad.”

“I wasn’t,” Mignon said firmly. “But I might have been if you hadn’t pulled me away.”

“Let’s just call it even,” Hamilton said.

“Fair enough,” Mignon said.

The slight smile tugging on her lips gave way to sobriety. “Hamilton,” she said quietly, “thank you.”

After so many years, Hamilton had the feeling that Mignon meant for far more than pulling her away from that house. “Of course,” he said. “I wanted to thank you, too.”