A/N: Hahaha! It didn't take forever this time! Though, as a fair warning to my loyal readers, it may still be a bit of a wait between chapters. Between school, and work (and starting next week, two jobs. Oh joy.) and helping my sister take care of the infant, I don't have much time for writing. Not to mention a bad case of writer's block. Hopefully when things quiet down (if they ever do) I can write more regularly. Until then, please be patient with me. I will try to get as much out as quickly as possible.
As for this chapter, I can say I'm fairly happy with it. It is short, as I'm trying really hard, but failing, at writing longer chapters. As for the plot? Yeah, my original idea kinda died in the crash. So much for planning, eh? We'll see where I end up.
And thank you to all of my wonderful reviewers. You guys make the pain of the creative process worth it!
Now, on with the story.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"Woke up and wished that I was dead, with an aching in my head, I lay motionless in bed. I thought of you and where you'd gone and let the world spin madly on." - World Spins Madly On, The Weepies
Chapter Three:
The Day is Gone
Derek awoke to a soft, monotonous beeping sound. It took a few blinks to focus his vision, only to be met with a never ending sea of white. White walls, white ceiling, white sheets. He studied the various tubes jutting out of his skin, the bandages, the bruises. He studied his arms, his fingers taped together. More tubes, more bandages. His head felt heavy, and grogginess kept the lingering question at bay.
He heard a snore come from somewhere in the room, and realized that he was not alone, and that his vision was not as clear as he had previously thought.
He saw a blur of brown, short hair. The features on the face too muddled for any definition, but he still knew who it was.
"Ed…" his voice was hoarse, throat dry. He didn't even sound like himself. The blob curled in the chair stirred slightly, but didn't wake. Another snore sounded throughout the room.
He cleared his throat as loud as he could and tried again.
"Ed." Stronger, still raw, but much more audible.
Edwin moved ungracefully and with a loud 'thwump' fell to the floor. He was fully alert now.
"Derek!" he cried from his pile on the floor. Derek blinked furiously, trying desperately to gain clarity. When his brother's face came into focus, he grinned. Edwin's wide eyes were fixated on him, surprise evident in his features.
He still hadn't moved from his position on the ground.
"Dude, stand up," he croaked. The speed Edwin moved at impressed Derek. After all the times he threatened him, yelled at him, bribed him, he had never seen the kid respond quite so fast.
"Y-you're awake!" Derek's eyebrows rose in amusement. His smirk widened into a grin.
"Quite the observer, Ed." He tried not to wince at his own voice. He sounded like a sixty-year old man who'd been smoking for fifty.
Edwin blushed at that, turning his head in embarrassment. Derek laughed, genuinely entertained by the younger Venturi.
The laugh turned into a cough that ripped at his sore throat. His lungs felt tight and breathing became wheezing in a matter of seconds. Edwin was by his side in an instant, standing with a cup, worry replacing the fluster. Derek's vision wavered again, his eyes watering from the force of the coughs and the severe pressure constricting his air flow.
Edwin held up the cup to his mouth, trying in all eagerness to help his big brother, but was rejected by Derek's hand forcefully pushing him away, spilling the contents of the Dixie cup over the pallid sheets.
"Dammit, Ed," he got out between breaths. Edwin was already wiping away at the mess, his neck and cheeks bright red, mumbled 'sorry's' coming ever other wipe.
Derek, more gently, weakened from the fit, pushed Edwin's hand off of the sheets.
A cramped silence fell over the two. Derek a bit light headed and still slightly panting, and Edwin shuffling his feet awkwardly a mere foot from the bed. Despite the crimson staining his cheeks, his face still scrunched up in concern.
"Why are you hovering?" Derek choked out, his breath still strained.
"Y-you're awake," was all that was offered.
"You really are the quick one, Edweirdo."
"I'm just, shocked, is all," his voice was timid, like he was trying to decipher if this was a dream or not. Derek just stared at him incredulously. As if Edwin had sprouted a second head, declared he was indeed from another planet and was planning to kidnap Derek to perform mass amounts of unpleasant tests.
"And that's shocking because…?" Uneasiness gripped Derek's stomach.
"Derek…" there was sympathy, pity, in his tone. Derek felt the panic begin to boil and slowly start to ascend his throat like bile.
Edwin squirmed anxiously, as though he didn't want to say anything. Derek grew impatient.
"Spill." He tone, albeit still gravelly and rough, was laced in authority. A tone Edwin had never, would never, disobey.
"We, we almost…lost you, bro. It was pretty touch and go for a while. Doctors coming and going, telling us good news, returning with bad news. You were in surgery for hours. That, that was three days ago. You've been out ever since." All of this was rushed out, in Edwin speak, half mumbled, half hectic.
Derek blinked a few times, absorbing the information. He almost died? His head felt heavy again. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the stiff pillow and tried to regulate his breathing.
That was a mistake.
The lingering question that was muddled moments ago sprung on him.
Shattering glass, bending metal, blood on his tongue…Casey…Casey's scream…
And suddenly, with his eyes snapping open and the air leaving his lungs once again, he shot up in bed and searched around wildly.
"D-Derek? What's the matter?" Edwin's voice didn't even dent Derek's senses. He was back on the side of the road, back pulling his weight with an injured wrist. Back searching in vain for his stepsister.
Her name tore from his lips, eyes moving violently about, only to be met with the never ending sea of white.
Where was she? He needed to find her. Needed to know that she was okay.
"CASEY!"
She couldn't die. Not like this. Why couldn't he see her?
He needed to see her!
Derek didn't notice Edwin back away and run out the door.
He didn't even register that the kid was gone until nurses and doctors swarmed in.
He didn't even know he was struggling to get out of bed until an army of hands gripped at his limbs and held him down to the taut mattress.
A nurse stood by with a syringe.
Derek still flailed.
A small part of his brain acknowledged that he was still in the hospital, connected to tubes and machines and essential liquids, but the bigger, more irrational part, couldn't let go of the scene playing in his head.
"Shh, son. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay. We'll find Casey, just go to sleep, son…"
His eyes felt heavy again and his body relaxed. The mass of people dissipated, and he felt a feeble grasp on his hand. Through the haze that was quickly overtaking him, he could see waves of brown, he could see sapphire blue.
He could see her.
"Casey…" and then the drugs kicked in and sleep, once again, claimed Derek Venturi's world.
TBC...
