This is the first time I've ever written anything in first person POV, so wish me luck.

The Fighting Soul and The Broken Body

You know how people always say that right before you die, or have a near-death experience, your life flashes before your eyes? Well, people should really stop talking because they have no idea what their talking about. Okay, they have some idea. But, it's not the entire thing. It's more of flashes of the important things. Like your first kiss, first love, your family, your best friend, your boyfriend. Know how I know? I lived it.

When the car hit Mom's it was... well the only way to describe it is painful. It was like a thousand knifes stabbing every inch of my body they could reach at the same time. No, it was worse than that. But after the initial hit, everything went numb. I couldn't feel anything, and I later heard that it was my body going into shock. After that, everything went black and I couldn't function. Then it happened. No, not the whole 'life-flashing-before-eyes' thing, but, I saw some important things.

I saw my mom, not Stef or Lena, but my birth mother. She was in the pretty black dress she wore the day she died. And then Callie and I found out. Our first foster home. When I came to the Fosters. Meeting Connor. Meeting my dad again. My adoption. Connor kissing me in the tent. The day Connor and I became boyfriends. The LGBT prom. Callie's adoption. Telling Connor I love him. Leaving Connor's house before the accident. Then flashes of everyone, seeming in order leading to who I love most (I refuse to say 'least to most' here, because there is no 'least' in love). Daria. Taylor. Mom (birth). Dad. Mike. AJ. Brandon. Jesus. Mariana. Mom. Momma. Callie. Connor.

After that, it was dark for a while. I thought I was dead, and that there was just some void after death, but then I woke up. Well, I shouldn't say 'woke up' because that's not what happened. I opened my eyes, and it was dark out, but that wasn't surprising, seeing as the accident happened at like nine o'clock at night. The stars were shinning, but the light from them was eroded through from the bright street lights and the lights of the ambulance and police cars. Everything was kind of blurry, like I was in a haze. I was a few feet from the car which was crushed in the side. My first thought, being me, was of how the insurance probably wouldn't cover that, given it was the second car accident we'd had in the span of six months.

After that, I saw that the front of the other car was bashed in as well, and the person inside laid bloody and pale. He was dead. I made my way closer to the car. Mom wasn't in it. I saw her screaming and crying, being held back by a police officer. There were a few paramedics attempting to remove something from the car. It was only when I got closer did I realize that it was my body. I guess it should have registered earlier that the side of the car was caved in - right where I was sitting - and that I was away from the car when I woke up. Now, I'd read theories and stuff about how people in comas can have out-of-body experiences, but experiencing one was a whole other thing.

Then it clicked. I was in a coma or passed out, or something, but it was like I was caught between life and death. And I had no idea how to get back in my body. I don't know why I wasn't more concerned or why I didn't try to call to anyone, because that's the rational reaction, right? From what I've seen in movies, it should be. But, no. That's not what I did.

Instead, I watched as they removed my busted body from the car and placed it on the stretcher. Mom was screaming and yelling again, tears streaming down her face. She was yelling at the cops, trying to use her position in the police force against them. Then, as they were loading me into the back of an ambulance, a paramedic pulled her away from the cops and told her to ride along, because she would need to be checked out when they got to the hospital. She came willingly onto the ambulance, and I followed her on. They closed the doors, and the ambulance raced off, but the paramedics inside were working on me. I tried not to focus on it, given the fact that I got queasy at the sight of blood, and knowing it was my body they were poking at made it worse. I focused on Mom, who was still crying and staring at me. Well, my body. They let her hold my hand.

"Baby, it's gonna be okay," she was saying. And I believed her because she's my mother. I wanted to speak, wanted to say something, even though I knew she wouldn't hear me, but it was like my vocal cords wouldn't work.

"M'am, I need you and your son's names," A paramedic asked.

"Stefanie Adams Foster, Jude Adams Foster," Mom answered, her voice shaking. The next few hours were a blur. We made it to the hospital, and they took Mom to another room, and me to some operating room. They had a nurse call the family. They all arrived about thirty minutes later. Callie and Jesus were demanding information from the nurses before Momma and Mariana pulled them away. I followed them all to the waiting room the nurse had told them to go to. It was the same waiting room we had waited in when Mom had been shot. Speaking of Mom.

She came out about twenty minutes later and was tackled in hugs by the family, Brandon holding onto her for a moment longer.

"Any news about Jude?" Mom had asked when everyone settled down.

"No. They won't tell us anything!" Callie screamed, tears streaming down her face.

"Shh, shh, honey, go sit down with your sister," Momma told her. Callie went reluctantly, then Momma and Mom started talking. "What happened?" Momma asked, tears forming in her eyes.

"We were on our way home, after I picked him up from Connor's and we were going through an intersection when someone flew threw the red light and hit Jude's side of the car," Mom explained. Momma sighed, running a hand through her curly hair.

"I'm glad you're okay, but what's going to happen with Jude?" she asked.

"I have no idea!" Mom answered, stress and worry clear on her face. Her eyes widened all of a sudden. "Oh my god, what about Connor?" she asked.

"What about Connor?" Momma asked, looking at Mom, completely lost.

"He's leaving for LA tomorrow. Jude is obviously not going to be better by then, Connor's going to want to stay," Mom explained, sighing. Momma closed her eyes, shaking her head.

"Well, we have to call Adam and tell him to tell Connor what happened," Momma reasoned.

"No, don't call Adam. He's already angry about Connor moving away, and besides that, it's one am. You have Connor's number, just call him," Mom ordered. Momma sighed, then nodded. I watched Momma call Connor, but left before he picked up the phone. Mom was right. Connor wasn't going to go to LA if I didn't wake up. I needed to find - well, me. I went through the door leading toward the surgery rooms. I paused to listen, maybe I'd hear something.

"Jude, bud, can you see me?" I heard coming from one of the rooms. I jogged toward it, seeings a doctor leaning over my unresponsive body, shining a light in my left eye which he had forced open. I blinked, feeling like her hand was on my eye. Well, soul-me. I blinked again, watching my body to see if it would mirror the action. Nope. I sighed, then moved forward, touching my own arm. Nothing. I bit my lip, running a hand through my hair. How was I going to get back in my body. I closed my eyes, willing my spirit, soul, whatever I was, back into the body. Nope. I groaned, then opened my eyes and watched the doctor again. She stood up, turning toward the nurse and talking in technical terms. Then, she said something I understood. "I'm gonna have to put him in surgery, go inform the family of it."

I sighed as the nurse walked out, then followed after her. I watched as she spoke to everyone, explaining what was happening with me. She left a few moments later.

The family took seats around the area. Callie sat down closest to the door leading toward the ICU, Mom beside her, Brandon beside Mom and leaning on her. Jesus sat down a few seats away, and Mariana just stood near the exit. Momma placed a hand on Mariana's shoulder, then looked around at the family before speaking.

"I'm going to go to the front desk, Connor's probably not going to know where to go when he gets here," Momma explained, then left. I groaned, rubbing the heals of my hands against my eyes, bringing my hands away from them, resting them on my temples and tugging my hair.

"How did this happen?" I mumbled, running my hands further back into my hair and interlocking them at my neck. How was I suppose to get back in my own body? Was Connor going to be the stubborn idiot he was and stay here? Of course he was. I knew in my head that if the situation was switched, I would stay until he was 100% recovered, but I still couldn't bring myself to be okay with him staying for me.

I sat down in the chair at the end of the aisle, beside where Mariana was, wanting nothing more than to be awake and fine and talking and joking with her. I raised my head as I heard footsteps. Two pairs, quick and rushed, Momma and Connor. The two made their way back in the room, Momma's hand on Connor's shoulder. My breath hitched as I saw my boyfriend's state. His hair was a complete mess, the edges of his eyes were red and there were bags underneath. His hazel eyes were bloodshot and shinning with fresh tears. He had his soft gray sweatshirt - one of my favorites - thrown carelessly on his shoulders. Underneath was a crooked, crinkled, Star Wars night shirt he wore every time he slept over. He had on red and blue action figure pajama bottoms and his shoelaces weren't tied, but shoved into his shoes.

The worry and fear on his face was clear, and it made me sick to know it was because of me. The other members of my family noticed his appearance, Mom speaking a quiet "Oh, Connor."

I was about to get up. Hug him and feel him against me, even if he couldn't feel me. But, then Mariana moved quickly, pulling the taller boy against her. I let out a sigh and stayed in my seat, a small smile coming onto my face at the sight of my boyfriend and sister hugging. Connor had always been close with all the members of the family, everyone considered him a part of it.

After a moment, Connor and Mariana pulled apart and Connor started asking about what had happened. Mom had started to talk when Callie interrupted her.

"It's your fault," she stated, repositioning herself and staring him down. I stood from my seat, anger rising in me. Typical Callie, trying to protect me from everything. I wish I could've told her off.

"I- what?" Connor asked, his face falling. He looked about ready to breakdown. Mom tried to set Callie straight, with I appreciate, but Callie then went off on a tangent. Then she shoved him. Despite my unseen state, I still rushed forward, placing my hand on Connor's shoulder as he fell into the chair. He didn't react to my touch. I sighed, but kept my hand where it was. I watched guilt appear on Connor's face and I wished I could tell him that Callie was wrong. But, luckily, Mariana did it for me.

Mariana sprang to Connor's defense quickly. I was hardly listening, focusing on Connor who was casting his eyes downward. But, I caught the last part of her defense. "This is nowhere near Connor's fault, this is that drunk idiot's fault! He rammed into the side of Mom's car, he hit them, he hurt Jude! Honestly, he got what he deserved!" Callie muttered an apology to Connor, then went back to her seat.

"Mariana, no one ever deserves to die," Momma stepped in, shaking her head at Mariana.

"He did more than Jude does," Mariana countered. I stared at her wide eyed. She thought I was going to die? It wasn't a terrible prediction, I mean I was kind of floating around, outside of my body.

"Was." My head whipped over toward Connor, placing my other hand gently on his wrist. Was?

"Was what?" Mariana asked his question out loud.

"I was moving to LA. I'm not now. Definitely not after this," Connor explained, standing, and I stood with him. I wanted to yell at him, tell him to go, that I'd be fine. But, no I couldn't.

"Dammit Connor," I mumbled, sighing.

"What? Why not?" Jesus asked.

"Yeah, I thought your dad didn't accept you," Brandon added.

"He doesn't," Connor started and sighed. Adam. "But, I can't leave. Not now. Not after what happened. I can't leave Jude," Connor explained. I felt a small smile appear on my face as I heard that. As much as I love Connor and want him to go to LA so he can be happy, I can't blame him for wanting to stay while I was hurt.

"Does your dad know?" Mom asked.

"He will when he wakes up. I left a note," Connor answered. I sighed, shaking my head, then watched Callie stand up and walk toward Connor. I almost thought she was going to hit him with the manner she walked in, but then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him.

"I'm so sorry, I know you love him," Callie whispered. Connor hugged her back, then Callie mumbled something I couldn't hear, and Connor started crying. I wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him it was going to be okay. I hate seeing him like that. It made me want to cry along. I turned away from him, not able to watch. I turned back a few moments later when he stopped crying and pulled away from Callie. Connor and Callie both sat back down. I sat down in the empty seat beside my boyfriend, trying to get him to notice me in some sense, even though I knew he wouldn't.

Hours passed, and the doctor came out and explained what was happening to me. Apparently, I was in a coma. All my siblings ended up leaving the room, Callie being upset, Mariana to comfort her, Jesus stormed out, and Brandon went to calm him down. Momma and Mom went to visit me, so I figured I'd follow them. I touched Connor's shoulder, before leaving and heading toward the room.

As we reached the room, both my mothers rushed to each side of the bed. I listened as they said it would all be okay, that I'd make it through this. I hate to say I didn't believe them. Once they were finished a few minutes later, after mumbling encouragements to each other and myself, I followed them back toward the waiting room. I looked away from Connor as I saw him pressed into Brandon's shoulder and crying. Jesus, Callie, and Mariana surrounded the two on either side. Mom and Momma sat down on the end of the line of chairs, beside Callie. Questions were thrown back about seeing me, but apparently after the initial visit with Moms, I wasn't allowed anymore visitors for a few hours.

Around noon, Connor's phone went off. He stood up as he answered it. I had no idea who he was talking to, but listened as he spoke into the speaker. "Hello?... Did you read the note?" Connor asked with his eyes closed. His dad. That explained it. I moved to stand closer, hoping somehow that he would somehow be comforted. That didn't work. His face turned almost angry. "Yes, Jude was in a car accident. Him and Stef were on their way home from our house when a drunk driver hit them. The driver died, Stef got out in okay condition, but Jude was hurt badly. I left without telling you because I knew you wouldn't let me come. I mean to tell Mom not to come because I'm not going to LA. Not after what happened. I need to stay near him, and I know you don't understand, but I love him, Dad. I'm not leaving," he finished.

I smiled softly at Connor's words. He was finally standing up to his dad. I focused back on Connor as he started to shout into the phone. "No, Dad, I'm not! You're the only reason I wanted to leave in the first place! And you've been begging me for weeks to stay, but now that something's happened to Jude, you want me to go?" I would have given anything to hear Adam's words. How selfish and controlling could he get? "No, I don't want to hear it! I'm sick of this, just don't bother calling me back. I'll stay at the hospital or with the Adams Fosters until Jude gets out," Connor pressed the end call button angry, then turned back toward my family, mumbling an apology.

I put my hand on his shoulder, seeing the stressed look on his face. Why couldn't I just wake up? Be here to hug him in real life? I followed behind Connor as he sat back down. "Nice job, dude!" Jesus commented, earning a small scold from Mom, who was laughing in spite of herself. Connor smiled, then turned toward my mothers.

"Is it okay if I-"

Momma didn't let him finish. "Of course, honey. You're part of the family," I watched relief wash over Connor's face. He nodded, then looked up as the doctor came in. The doctor explained that everyone could see me, just two at a time. There was a small debate before it was decided on Callie and Connor. I followed the two and the doctor toward the room. The doctor left quickly, and Connor was visibly shocked by my body's appearance. Of course, I'm not surprised, my body looked awful. He choked on a sob then moved forward and grabbed my hand. I closed my eyes, moving toward the bed and sitting down on the edge, trying to feel Connor's hand in mine, like I'd felt the doctor's hand on my eye.

I smiled softly as I felt a soft grip around my hand; Connor. I sighed as Connor whispered my name. He sounded so sad and broken. Callie settled on the other side of the bed, but I was focused on Connor. He refused to leave my side. Mom had to stay with him through the night. I ended up sleeping on the bed beside my lifeless body, feeling Connor's hand in mine. Maybe when I wake from sleep, I'd wake up in my body.

Yes, I know, it's like four days late, and I'm sorry, but it's due to lack of time, not avoidance this time, so improvement. Yes, I only did the first day through Jude's eyes, but everything else would basically be just repeats, and who wants to read that? I was really nervous about writing this, because while I am rather good, if I do say so myself, at portraying Jude's emotions and things, I am much better at Connor, given the fact that we have a lot in common and have been through the same kinds of things. So, I really hope I did a good job, and let me know if you like first person POV, I might start using it. I hoped you liked this.

Follow me on Tumblr at jonnorlandfill. Side note: I've been inactive from Tumblr from the past few weeks, and will continue to be till the end of November, because I usually use mobile Tumblr, and I can't get my new phone until the end of November.

I do not own The Fosters or anything you may recognize.

-HJ