The pavement was wet, rain sounds splatter through the roof, the night was dark and cold, what one could expect for mid-October. Adrenaline was pumping through Pierce, who had his eyes full of unshed tears.
"Please wake up." He begged, repeatedly, and he does not know why he keeps at it. Perhaps he understands that there is nothing else that he can actually do to remedy the situation. "Please, please, please, Tati. Please wake up. Please."
She is not waking up. No matter how much he begged, she did not seem to be listening to him. She does not tell him that he is annoying, or that he should take a hike, or that he is suffocating her. She does not complain about the cold, about how they will be late to the party, or that he is a terrible driver for wrecking a car worth a year of her tuition.
She just… Lays there. In silence, eyes closed, ever-paling face.
Pierce tried to push that thought to the back of his mind. Of course, Tati was going to wake up, she had to. With his heart beating out of his chest he tried to recollect what had happened.
The car had come out of nowhere.
Well, maybe it did not. Maybe there was plenty of warning, and he just did not realise any of it. After all, he never really went through drivers' ed, and he has not learnt how to drive properly. Luke had paid off an instructor to slide him a license under the table, alleging that VidTok would not wait for him to go through the proper channels and that the Lambo video had to come out by the end of the week. That happened in May, if he recalls correctly.
Pierce screamed at himself for his terrible driving. Why could he not have just paid attention to the road for once? Called a goddamn car? Had his girlfriend drive? Told Luke to shove it?
I love you.
That was the last thing Tati said to him. She gave him the smile he adored and looked up with big, bright eyes and he could not help himself. He was leaning over to give her a quick peck on the cheek, only looking away from driving for a moment.
However, in that one moment, his entire world collapsed.
He could not even remember the crash well, though the entire thing seemed to happen in slow motion. He was too busy staring at the passenger seat, watching as that smile he loved so much transformed into a scream and lights seemed to shine from all around.
Pierce blacked out almost instantly, whether he woke up in seconds or minutes or hours was not something he knew. All he knew was that he was not out long enough for someone to get help.
Now he sat there, hyperventilating in a gaudy yellow Lamborghini, wrecked beyond recognition, with shards of the windshield all over him.
It took him a second to realize his hand was still laced with hers. He was holding on tighter than he ever did before. He willed himself to move his hand down to her wrist, covered in bracelets that he pushed away.
He put two fingers down over the bony joint and prayed. "Come on, Tati. Please be okay."
It was faint, but he could feel her slight pulse, and relief surged through him. She was alive. At least for now, she was still alive, she still has a chance.
It was then that he noticed the alarming pool of blood around Tati.
Outside of a few scrapes and bruises, he is not seriously hurt, but, looking at his girlfriend, he wished he could say the same about her. Aside from ugly purples on her arms and a swelling on her face, there was a huge gash on her stomach, through which she was bleeding out alarmingly fast.
He does not have any time to question why the airbags did not go off on a half-million-dollar car. All he does is stare at the massive piece of glass that had made its way into her stomach, spluttering and trying to get his thoughts on straight.
"Oh my God." He wailed.
Pierce just stared at the gruesome shard that had settled into Tati. Blood was pouring out everywhere, and he does not know what to do to help. He heard sirens faintly in the distance, but they do not sound like they would be arriving anytime soon.
He does not have time to process anything around him, or logically think through decisions, he could only follow his impulses.
He leaned over and pulled his hand over the glass. It immediately pricked his hand, and while it hurt, he did not pay it much mind. After all, if it is hurting him, he does not want to think about what something that sharp could be doing to the woman lying next to him.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled as hard as he could, letting out a squeak as the glass came out.
Pierce wished he knew what to do in emergencies. He wished that he had went to school like a regular teen and learnt how to behave in these situations. He wished that he could be mature and have a level head under this much stress, or at least to be able to make prompt decisions.
Instead, all he could do was look pathetically at the alarming amount of blood all over the glass fragment.
The first thing that he noticed was just how long the piece was, how much of it he pulled out, just how deep it had buried inside her. Beyond that, all he could comprehend was the sheer amount of blood. Both on the glass, on the seats, on her torn shirt, the gore was everywhere.
What hurt him the most was the realization that this was Tati's blood. Everywhere he looked, little pieces of the girl he loved were splattered around him. It was as if she was torn apart and thrown all around.
He wanted to vomit, his girlfriend had lost so much blood, so much of herself. It felt as if he was the one with the blood loss based on how much his head was spinning. He does not want to look at her, bloody and unconscious, he wanted to run away and pretend this had never happened.
Alas, even if he felt as if he could stand up and run, he knows that she would not be waiting for him wherever he goes. She was here, bleeding to death, in need of his help, and the best thing he can do at the moment is to face the situation, assess it and hopefully find a way to save her.
Taking deep breaths, Pierce willed himself to finally look over to her, and the picture was bleak. Her cut really was deep. Stretching several inches across her stomach, blood was pouring out from where the shard was previously.
At the time, he did not think that taking the glass out would open up a wound, it was an impulse decision that he did not second guess. Now, he is facing the results of that decision. She was bleeding even more than before. He does not want to look, but still he saw the wound, going several inches into her.
"It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay." He repeats again and again, even if he is not sure if he is talking to Tati or to himself.
He saw the half-full bottle of water in the cup holder and picked it up. He does not know if it would even do anything, but he figured he had to clean the wound to avoid infection or something, and perhaps that would help to stop the bleeding somehow.
He quickly unscrewed the bottle and started pouring the water over her. Whether it helped her or not, it helped him in no longer seeing the dripping blood all over her.
Pierce shook off his jacket, the cold outside no longer bothering him. Tati had loved this jacket, always stealing it from him to wear around the house, as she did with most of his clothes. He never minded it much, though. In fact, he loved seeing her in his clothes, and he loved how they smelled of her shampoo afterwards.
He could never love the sight of her with his jacket again.
He wrapped it around her stomach, tying it around her back. He hopes that the pressure on the wound would stop the bleeding, but his impulses again did not make him stop to consider the bigger picture, with how all the small glass shards covering the jacket could now get into her wound.
Pierce sat back, not knowing what else to do. The sirens in the distance were getting louder, an ambulance would be there soon to help.
"Tati, they're going to be here in a minute. Hold on that long, please." He whispers, his voice melting with the splatter of rain.
He reached out to grab her hand again. For so many times, her hands were a comfort for him, reaching out for her was an instinct. All he needed to feel better was for her to squeeze his hand back and give reassurance. He needs to lend her all the strength that she had given him over the years, he had to save her life somehow, even if he is the one who put it in risk in the first place.
Right then, when he places his over hers, her hands were so cold, so stiff, so empty. There is nothing comforting about them.
"You're going to be okay. We're going to be okay." He reassures, emptily, to no-one in particular. "Remember everything we talked about? All our plans for the future? They're still on, no car crash is taking that away from us."
He started to rub his thumb over her hand. All he wanted was to give her comfort, because just talking like she could hear him gave him comfort.
"You've always been so strong! You've always resisted and fought with everything that you could give. Just do that now and you're going to survive this one, too, Tati. You're going to wake up and I'm going to be right beside you. All that's going to be different is that you're going to have a really cool scar."
Tears were finally making their way down his eyes. He pulled her unmoving hand up to his lips, giving a quick peck, and hoping for nothing else but for this not to be his last time kissing her hand like this.
Pierce does not want their last kiss to be like this.
"I promise."
