AN: Welcome to my new story. This will be a rather short one, where I think 3-4 parts. I hope you enjoy it. I am really excited. This will be the shortest part.
Disclaimer: OUAT/Stephanie plum Inspiration. I do not own them or TMI. Nor am I an author, just someone who is unpaid and makes spelling mistakes. This story will also be translated into the aos fandom.
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Description: While driving around for work, Clary is in a car accident that results in her getting rushed to the hospital. While there, her emergency contact is notified, who happens to be her ex-boyfriend. The same man she dumped 6 months ago. And with no family or friends, he is solely responsible for everything.
T-Boned
Part 1: The Collison (1.7K)
As the wind blows in my car as I press the accelerator harder as I wave myself through traffic that is standing still that I don't have time for.
This is ironic because I have no life, so maybe I do have time?
That being said, my target isn't going to wait all night, and I need to get going before he moves off the park bench at the pier.
Yet, L. A Traffic decides it has other plans because as I take the exit and actually slowly make my way through the intersection because there is no point of rushing now and risking a ticket.
It would be funny for the bounty hunter to get a ticket trying to find someone trying to escape the system.
That being said, as I cross the halfway point, I just so happen to look to my left and see a white Kia coming right at me.
The next thing you know, I am spinning, and I want to vomit from the force of the movement as pain explodes through my body, and I find it impossible to move.
A man comes to my passenger side door, so I must have stopped at some point.
As I look at him, I see his face moving, but I can't hear him, and I suddenly feel my eyes beginning to drop, and a hand grabs my wrist as I fade into darkness.
Arguing is something I am used to jumping from foster home to foster home.
Maybe that's why I often started them for no reason, or when a small disagreement occurred, I would flee at the first time of trouble.
Standing before me is Jace on his one knee, promising he'd never leave my side with a promise ring. Not an engagement ring. A promise.
He knew I wasn't quite ready.
However, that didn't stop him from trying to take our relationship to a level I wasn't ready for.
Even if it was something, I wish I could have.
However, at that moment, something inside me snapped as I looked deep into his golden-coloured eyes full of hope, while I am only displaying my emotionless face and dull eyes.
He should've known.
Without hesitation, I reach out for the box he's holding out. Cupping it, my hands solely to snap it closed.
As the echo of the box's lid rattles the room , I watch his face fall into sorrow, and the light behind his eyes becomes dim. Matching my own.
This response causes my insides to turn, and the threat of last night's dinner begins to boil in the back of my throat.
It'll hurt, but it will be for the best.
He can't be with someone so damaged.
That night, I said good night right after he said we don't have to break up. In silence, I walked into the bedroom we had been sharing and closed the door.
He gave me space, which was probably a mistake since that night while he slept on the couch, unaware of what I was doing.
I walked away, suitcase packed.
And I just left
Sure, I might've left some things in the apartment we have been sharing for almost 2 years.
But I'm used to carrying light—the perk of being a foster kid. Always on the move.
The night I left into the wind and didn't look back.
I got a new phone, a new car, and it becomes my new life where l would remind isolated, where I wouldn't deserve the happiness he gave me.
All these memories flood around me of the last few months of being on my own. Then suddenly, as I am walking down the street, I see him.
He stops.
I freeze.
We both stand there unmoving.
Then he snaps, going from zero to a hundred real quick. Becoming a person I never suspected he might be as his face goes from pale to raging red.
He shakes my arms, and I want to scream.
This isn't the man that loved me.
This is the opposite.
Then my subconscious kicks in.
This is a nightmare, and that's not a metaphor.
Suddenly I bring myself out and feel pain deep in my bones as silence fills my ears. Then I can't breathe.
Then with that, I snap my eyes open, where I am blinded by bright white lights hanging above me as I suffocate.
I try to scream for help, but nothing comes out. Instead, something warm touches my shoulder.
I glance to the right towards the hand on my shoulder, and although I know it's there, however, I cannot focus on the hand because of how blurry it is.
All I can tell by the feel and colour is that the hands are large and fair-skinned.
As I come further into reality, I hear noises of beeping, and as my vision focuses, I not only feel the tube in my throat, but I begin to see it.
Panic sets in, and I begin to squirm from the discomfort and tingling I feel in my bones.
Someone calls out, and suddenly several pairs of hands are touching me, and I try to flinch away as the yelling begins to increase and I try to fight the people trying to hold me down, but darkness takes me away, and the tingling I once felt is now gone.
It's a while before the discomfort returns, and the lights blind me again. I manage to blink away the blurriness, and this time my vision appears normal, and although the tube in my chest remains installed, I feel more aware.
As I look from the doctors around me, I feel the tension building. They ask If I want the tube removed, and I quickly begin shaking my head yes.
You don't have to ask me twice.
As they circle me and begin injecting me with more pain medication, I try to listen to their words and wonder how long I have been conscience.
Crap, I never caught the guy.
Being around these people who are doing their job, making something for themselves is something I envy since having these 6 doctors or nurses circling me is the most human exposure I have had in a long time.
After a few minutes, I am removed from the machine and encourage to drink from the straw, leading to the small cup of water before speaking. I do as I am told, and after, I test my voice with a hello.
It comes out with a crack, and although I am disappointed, they smile at me with hope in their eyes.
I spoke, what's the big deal? That is what I ask myself.
The main doctor, I assume, steps forward as everyone else steps back and tells me he is going to ask a series of questions.
I nod, and he lets out a cough before being handed a clipboard.
"What's your name?"
"Clary Fray," I answer softly since my voice is still a challenge.
"How old are you?" He asks next.
"26, almost 27."
"Where were you born?" He asks next, and I laugh.
The circle of doctors now gives me a look of concern, and I decide to answer to put them at ease with, "I was left at a fire hall in Portland. Unsure of where exactly since I was a few days old. So, take a guess."
The main doctor nods slowly, not using any words to communicate further. So, I take this as an opportunity to ask some questions of my own.
"How long have I been out?'
The team of them look around and look at me, and the tallest women in the group with long black hair answer with, "a week so your brain could have a chance to heal. It was medically induced."
Geez, a freaking week.
That explains why they were concerned about my speaking.
"What's wrong with me?" I ask.
The main doctor freezes and stares deep into my soul before taking a deep breath and answering with, "4 broken ribs, swelling in the brain after a bleed, broken left femur, and your left arm will need surgery to be set. You crashed 3 times in your first 24hours of being here. We didn't want to risk anything else that wasn't urgent."
"How will I be treated?" I coldly ask because the list of injuries seems impossible.
"Your ribs, leg and arm are wrapped and in chests. You will feel the pain of them when we start to pull you further of the medications. Your brain had a bleed that took a while to clot, and we were unsure of the damage of working on it for so long, not to mention the amount of times you crashed. Whenever the brain is without oxygen, there is a chance of brain damage. It will need to be monitored."
I nod, and I suppress the tears that threaten to fall.
Cannot show weakness.
Not here, not anywhere.
"Anything else?" I ask, trying to keep my voice level, so it doesn't shake.
"Is there anyone else you would like us to notify?" the main doctor asks.
"anyone else? Who did you call?" I ask, and panic begins to set in, and immediately the heart monitor starts to increase.
"Your boyfriend didn't think anyone needed to be called"
"I don't have a boyfriend," I say coldly.
They all pale, and just as if I called Beetlejuice.
In walks the man of the hour.
My ex-boyfriend Jace Herondale with a small bouquet of flowers wearing a smile on his face even though the bags under his eyes clearly say he is tired. He makes an effort.
Then continues to walk into the silent room and greets everyone in the room by their name, only for them to look at him blankly.
He takes this as a cue and drifts his golden eyes to me.
Our eyes meet, and he smiles.
A smile I haven't seen in 6 months.
Just great.
AN: Thank you for reading, and I hope to read your thoughts on what you think? Did Clary make a mistake? Why did Jace stay?
I would appreciate all the reviews, favourites, and follows. As with 26.56, I will pm previews if you review.
See you soon with my small new project tomorrow
Stay safe!