For all the chaos of the hospital hidden behind the big double doors, Riley is transfixed by how quiet the waiting room is. Despite all the people seated just like her the space is numbingly calm, the only sound she can focus on coming from the analog clock on the wall above the reception desk.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
She's not sure why she expected otherwise; it's not like she's never been here before. She can remember rushing to the hospital with Maya after she tried the kick-flip off the park bench and cracked her head open. She can remember the quick visit to the ER when Farkle sprained his ankle tap dancing. But those instances feel different somehow. Less guilt, less to lose.
"It knew it."Maya's shaky voice echoes through her skull. "I knew something like this would happen."
She doesn't know how many minutes it's been since he fell off the bull. She doesn't know how many minutes it's been since they left the rodeo, following the ambulance. She doesn't know how many minutes it's been since they wheeled him away through those big double doors, leaving her stranded without a clue as to what happens next.
All she knows is that this is all her fault. And she can't handle thinking about what happens next.
I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Riley can't help but think about how Lucas would always keep time. Not purposefully, but she had noticed early on how he had this habit of tapping his fingers. As reliable as a metronome, when he was thinking or listening or trying to focus, he would tap his fingers against the desk or his knee and keep the time. Completely subconscious, but predictable. Dependable just like the rest of him.
One time, when they went to the movies earlier in the school year, he'd kept the time against her wrist. They had been next to each other and sharing an armrest – she'd grabbed his arm a couple of times already out of fright, she still couldn't believe she let Maya talk her into another scary movie – and about halfway through the movie he started tapping his finger against the back of her hand. She doesn't know if he even knew he was doing it. She doesn't know why she's remembering it now.
But she didn't get spooked for the rest of the film. Something about the rhythmic motion was grounding, kept her out of her own head. Besides, it was a little hard to focus on the movie when all she could think about was how hard her heart was pounding.
"Come on, Lucas. Move. Just move your fingers. Let me know you can hear me."
She doesn't have that distraction now.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
It's two days before guests are allowed to visit. It's three days before Riley gets the opportunity to visit for herself. Maya and Farkle have already gone back to New York – school doesn't stop for anyone, after all – but Cory gave her a little bit of leeway, and Zay isn't going anywhere until Lucas wakes up. He said so himself.
"If the roles were reversed, he'd do the same for me." Zay kicked his feet up in his armchair in the waiting room, crossing his arms. "He wouldn't go anywhere, and neither am I."
Riley can relate to that. The determination to stay. She can feel it in her bones, but then there's a part of her that wonders if she even has the right. It was her that put all the pressure on him to go through with it. She was the one who cheered him on and made him believe he could do anything. At least it was genuine – she really believed it.
Now here she is. Cramped in a waiting room armchair with her legs falling asleep because she hasn't moved in hours and feeling so riddled with something – guilt, but also a little something extra – that she isn't even sure when her turn comes to visit she'll be able to walk herself in there and face him.
The big double doors open. A nurse emerges, hanging by the doors and watching expectantly as Zay makes his way back over to Riley.
He stuffs his hands in his pockets, coming to stand in front of her. She gives him the best smile she can muster, which admittedly isn't much. "Okay?"
Zay shrugs, not offering a confirmation or a denial. "It's your turn."
"I don't know if I should," she admits, feeling bile caught in the back of her throat. Just like she figured, she's finding it difficult to make her feet move.
"Riley, go back there." Zay gives her an adamant look, raising his eyebrows. "He'd want you to be there."
She doesn't believe it, but Zay knows Lucas better than anybody, so she figures she has to take his word for it.
After a moment she forces herself up, taking a second to balance on her own two feet before giving him a curt nod. Head down, she makes her way in the direction of the nurse, who gives her a smile as she crosses through the big double doors.
They close behind her, trapping her in. Whatever happens next, now she's stuck in it.
"You a friend of Mr. Friar's?" the nurse asks, leading the way around stagnant patients in stretchers and conversing nurses and doctors.
Riley finds herself uncertain how to answer. Yes, of course she is – he's one of her best friends in the entire world. But it also doesn't feel like enough to sufficiently explain their relationship. It also feels like if she were really his friend, they wouldn't be in this situation.
"He's very important to me," she murmurs, avoiding eye contact as they make their way through the white-walled maze. That's the only statement she can make that's one hundred percent truthful, regardless of the status of their bond.
The nurse nods, backing off a bit as they stop outside one of the hospital rooms. She gives Riley an encouraging nod, holding open the door slightly.
"Whenever you're ready."
She's certain she never will be, so she moves forward anyway, nodding a thank-you and stepping into the room.
What she's not prepared for is the reality of how normal he looks. Despite the couple of bruises on his forearms from when he broke his fall and the pale complexion to his normally tan face, he looks perfectly at ease. He could simply be resting. She knows the expression well – she hasn't forgotten the time he fell asleep in English class and how absolutely adorable he looked when he woke up with paper creases all over his cheek.
She glances behind her at the closed door. She could still run, if she wanted to. She doesn't have to face him. He wouldn't know the difference anyway.
But yes, she does. Because all she's done so far is run, tiptoe back from her own feelings because of Charlie, because of Jack and Rachel, because of Maya and unofficial things and what happens next. The fear of what happens next.
She gently lowers herself into the seat next to the bed, pulled close from when Zay was there previously. It's just as quiet as the waiting room, only this time instead of the clock or his fingers it's the monitor keeping time, keeping the pace of his heart and letting her know it's still going.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"I don't know why I'm here," she finds herself saying, her voice croaky from how little she's spoken in the last seventy-two hours. She clears her throat, sitting up a bit straighter. "I probably should've gone home with Maya and Farkle, but I don't know. I couldn't… I couldn't just leave. Not with everything like this."
He doesn't answer. He doesn't acknowledge her. Of course he doesn't, he's unconscious and it's her fault.
Even still, talking to him helps. It always does, whether he realizes it or not. So she keeps going, filling the silence with her own noise.
"I shouldn't have told you to do this." She swallows, pushing some hair behind her ear. "I just really thought, I mean, I know I'm naive. But I really believed you could do it. I believed that you could do anything, and I still do."
After a moment's hesitation, she reaches forward and lightly touches the back of his hand. She thinks about holding it but decides against it – she hasn't earned that right.
Instead, she finds her lightly tapping her finger against his wrist. Keeping time, syncing with his heart monitor.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"I believe that you can pull through this. Maybe that's dumb, but I have to believe it." She takes a deep breath, hating the way she can feel the tears forming in the back of her throat. "Because I don't want to believe the alternative is possible."
Her hand comes to rest on top of his, fingers gently curling around the back of his hand. She keeps tapping her thumb against his knuckles, chewing on the inside of her cheek as the tears threaten to spill over the corner of her eyes.
"I don't want to lose you," she whispers. A couple tears manage to escape and she wipes them hastily with the heel of her other hand, taking a shaky breath. "It's why I keep going back and forth, it's why I don't really know what… why we can't be what we think we are, maybe. Because I don't want to be Jack and Rachel. I don't want to stop talking to one another if things take a wrong turn. I don't want to… I can't."
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"But this is worse." It feels like she's stating the obvious, but keeping it in feels wrong. "This is so much worse. If I'm going to lose you somehow, I'd much rather it be like that. After giving things a chance. Where we'd both be okay."
The words come out lower than a whisper, but she has to get them out. She's already kicking herself for not saying them sooner, considering the circumstances.
"I love you, Lucas. And now I know how." She inhales to catch her breath, swallowing back the tears and forcing herself to be brave. Even a fraction as brave as him. "Please be okay."
For all the keeping time she's doing, she doesn't know how much of it passes. She isn't sure how long she sits there.
All she knows is that the world starts spinning the moment she feels his finger move.
Riley hesitates, not completely sure whether she imagined it or not. She holds her breath, frozen in case there's another moment and she misses it.
But she didn't imagine it. A couple seconds later, his hand moves again. It's more of a twitch than anything else, but it's something. It's anything. And that's all she asked for in the first place.
"Lucas?" She leans forward, watching his face for any sign of change. She hits the call button, signaling the nurse to come back. "Lucas, can you hear me?"
Her heart is pounding again, but this time it's easy to maintain her focus. Nothing could tear her away from this moment, no matter how terrifying it is not knowing what's coming next.
After a few seconds, his brow furrows slightly. He groans lightly, and Riley feels the weight of the world lift off her shoulders and tears fill her eyes once again. "Oh my God."
"Riley?" he mutters, his words slurred slightly as he returns back to consciousness.
"Yeah, yeah, it's me." She tightens her grip on his hand, smiling in spite of the tears. In this case, they're for a good reason. "I'm right here. I'm here. You're going to be okay."
There will be time for confessions later. There will be time for her to reiterate her feelings – now that she knows them, now that she's said them out loud, she's suddenly not as scared. She knows that whatever happens next, the chance of things working out for the best is worth the risk.
For now, she's content to stay by his side and help him get better. They're not Jack and Rachel. They're Riley and Lucas, and that, she knows, is one of the most important things in her world. Regardless of what happens next.