Disclaimer: I do not own anyone you recognise - I've merely borrowed the character for the sole purpose of exploiting them in this ficlet. That is all. Please don't sue me.
She rubbed her free hand on the leg of her jeans, the faded blue fabric threadbare and holing over her thigh here and there. Her car keys, wallet and cell were clutched in the other hand, arm hanging limp at her side as she followed the nurse down the dimly lit corridor. It was after visiting hours but they'd allowed her access anyway – she'd driven thirty two consecutive hours to get to him and there was no way she was stopping until she saw him. She couldn't stop now.
It was quiet in the hospital at that time of night, all the patients bunked down and sleeping, the occasional cough breaking the silence. Distantly she could hear the muted shuffling sound, a squeak of shoes on linoleum as a nurse made her rounds somewhere around the bend.
An olive skinned hand brushed her lower back, fingers dipping across the hollow and tracing the image that she knew off by heart. She didn't need to see it to know every little detail, she just knew it. It was the same tattoo her father had and his father before that – the same tattoo her big brother had. Hers was a little bigger than his and stretched the span of her lower back, the dark ink staining her skin and peeking over the waist of her low riding jeans.
She'd had them for years, her jeans. They were covered in tears and splatters – grease, paint and bleached out spots where she'd accidentally poured bleach into the wash instead of detergent. He'd made fun of her for that, her brother. Told her she was born blonde and those first few weeks of her life spent in a cardboard box on the side of the road had permanently affected her brain.
Kelly smiled. He was always picking on her and making wise assed comments when he'd been drinking. It was the only time they got along properly – they were too different whilst sober, but when they got their drink on, anyone would swear they were inseparable. He'd hug her and kiss her on the top of the head, throw her over his big shoulder and spin her in circles until either one or both of them felt the need to throw up.
Her sunglasses were perched on the top of her head holding her bangs out of her face and her long pale blonde hair was held back in a knot at the nape of her neck. She didn't have an elastic so that had to do. Her teeth worried her bottom lip, tongue flicking the metal bolt in it against the back of them. She could hear the faint clicking noise and steeled herself. She only tapped her tongue ring against her teeth when she was nervous.
In front of her the nurse slowed, looking back over her shoulder. "He's in here, Miss Prior." Her hand lingered on the blue curtain that shielded him from the rest of the room. There was a constant hum of the machines filling the air and Kelly did her best to ignore it. She couldn't think about it too much. Those machines were what kept people alive, people who had families that loved them and needed them. They were what was keeping her brother alive. She nodded, shifting from foot to foot.
The nurse placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Now he may be able to hear you, then again he may not. It would do well to talk to him just in case. I'm sure he'd appreciate knowing you were with him right now."
Kelly nodded, her eyes soft and sad. She didn't know what to expect – all she knew was that her dad had called and told her that she should come, that he needed someone. Her big brother needed a loving presence at his side. She hadn't known he was in ICU until she'd reached the Californian border and she called her dad to let him know she was in the state. Fear swelled in her gut and she swallowed thickly, watching the nurse pull back the curtain.
Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The blue curtain slid across just enough for her to catch her first glimpse of him in three years. She'd not seen him since she'd gone off to college, time hadn't permitted, but she had gotten letters and phone calls on a fairly regular basis. She'd always appreciated the gesture as he wasn't exactly the type to put pen to paper nor to blurt out how he was feeling, so the fact that he'd done that for her warmed her heart. It froze as soon as she laid eyes on him though.
His bulk seemed almost too big for the bed, yet he looked so small at the same time. Dark hair was messy and he had a thick layer of stubble across his jaw and cheeks. There were little tabs of transparent medical tape over his eyes and his mouth was slightly open, a thick tube disappearing into his mouth and down his throat. She looked at the machine beside the bed. It was breathing for him. Her strong, independent, boisterous big brother was being kept alive by one of those blasted machines.
She pushed her grief to the side and moved to sit beside the bed. The sheets and blankets were folded at his waist and she could see the thick white bandages around his middle. His right arm was in much the same condition, wrapped up like a mummy in bandages and dressings, a hint of some thick padded dressings peeking out from beneath his shoulder. Blood had seeped through the ones on his arm and stained the stark white bandages a dull shade of brown, rusty and old looking. He had scrapes on his right cheek and he was unusually pale. His chest rose and fell steadily, but not of his own accord.
Kelly swallowed the thickening feeling that began to build in her throat and push up behind her eyes. Pressure blocked her nose for a moment and when she blinked a fat tear drop forced its way free. It ran down her cheek and dripped onto the white sheet beside his hand.
She set down her keys, wallet and phone on the floor beside her chair and carefully took his huge paw like hand in hers, careful not to disturb the IV in the back of his hand nor the clamp on his forefinger that monitored his pulse. It was heavy and dwarfed her own hand easily. He'd always been bigger than her. He'd always protected her despite their differences.
For a long time Kelly sat there, blue eyes brimming with tears. She wasn't sure what to say to him, so she calmly told him all about her trip to California, bitched about the shitty drivers that inhabited the state and told him about the strange noise her car had been making for the last hundred miles or so. He'd always liked helping her out when it came to her car. He taught her how to change her first tyre when she was eight and he was eleven.
He looked so much like their mother.
She untangled one of her hands from his and stroked a lock of his stubborn dark hair from his forehead, smoothing it away from his face. His eyes remained closed, not a hint of movement behind the closed lids. He showed no signs of life whatsoever. He couldn't hear her.
Kelly allowed a couple more of her tears to fall, sniffling as she pressed her lips to his cool hand. He wasn't even warm any more. She touched his stomach and bit her lip. It was cool to touch too. She held his hand to her face, her forehead resting against the limp flesh and bones. Her breath shuddered out of her in short, ragged gasps but she refused to do the chick thing. She would not wail and scream, kick and make a huge fuss. He wouldn't want that. The tears fell rapidly now, blinding her and she struggled to catch her breath without making a sound. She'd not quite mastered the art of crying elegantly, but she was close to it. If only she could get her nose to stop running. Sniffling as quietly as she could, Kelly rubbed her cheek against the cool flesh in her hands, kissing each of his fingertips before setting his hand back down on the bed beside his still body. A tear slid down past her nose and over her lip, dripping into her mouth. She shook as she lay her head on his undamaged shoulder, fingers tracing that same tattoo that herself and every other member of her family for four generations had worn proudly. Her tears slid down over his bare, cool skin.
The machines still hummed softly.
He was gone.
She refused to leave his side.