The Guardian: Trauma

Clark and Chloe stood in the crowed football stadium, shivering slightly in the early evening chill.

"Alright, we'll see you soon," said Chloe into her cell phone. She clicked it shut and popped it into her bag and turned to Clark. "That was Arin. She's gonna be a few minutes late but she said to save her a seat." She sat down on the bleachers and then put her feet up between herself and Clark to save the spot.

Clark smiled and sat down next to Chloe, purposely squishing her feet a little. She returned the favor with a playful kick and he moved over.

"You know, I have to admit, she's been really good for Pete.

"And vice versa," Chloe said. "I know it's really sappy, but they do make a really cute couple.

"What? No harsh reporter judgments to be made?" Clark asked, nudging Chloe in the ribs to prove he was kidding.

"Actually, no. I don't know why, but I really like her. She helped me with my fine arts intro column last week and she's just a lot of fun to be around. Besides, I'm glad Pete finally found someone."

"Yeah, me too. Hard to believe they've only been dating a month. It seems like so much longer," Clark replied. Then their conversation was cut short by the kickoff. About ten minutes into the first quarter, Arin pushed her way through the crowd and stood next to Chloe and Clark. She had on a red and yellow sweatshirt with Crow Softball written on the front and she cheered at the top of her lungs at every play. At halftime Clark left and bought the girls some popcorn. It was turning into a very entertaining evening.

Then at the start of the second half, Pete went in as wide receiver to the delight of Arin, Clark and Chloe. The Crows were winning 14 to 6 against the Baronview Bison. Everyone was elated. No one ever expected what happened next. The Crows were at the 40 yard line, second down, when Pete went out for a long pass. The ball soared high and on target as Pete slowed to make what would have been a beautiful catch. Then suddenly, both the right and left tackles honed in on him. The ball had just touched his fingers when the right tackle hit him below the waste and the left tackle came in high. He was knocked flat on his back with a sickening CRACK! He landed…and …nothing. He didn't move; he didn't get up. Arin stood up suddenly, gazing at the field, wringing her hands nervously, as if praying for some sign of movement.

"Clark, he's not moving…" Chloe let the words hang in the air. Clark put his hand on Arin shoulder. She sounded as if she was having trouble breathing; air was coming and going from her body in short, ragged gasps

"I'm gonna call 911," Chloe said pulling out her phone. Her voice was more a quaver than anything else. Suddenly Clark's hand was hanging in midair as Arin ran out from under it. She raced down the step and to the fence separating the field from the grandstand. Clark followed close behind, not thinking of anything, just seeing Pete's still body lying there in his head. He saw Arin pull an incredible maneuver as she put both hands atop the chin link fence and vaulted over. In the distance he heard the wail of an ambulance, slowly pulling closer. He cleared the fence easily and was soon standing amidst the coaches huddled around Pete's limp form.

Clark made a desperate grab for Arin, but she had already pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring the protests from worried coaches.

"What the…What the hell are you kids doin' on the field. Kent! Get that chick and get outta here.."

"It's alright, coach Farley. She's…she knows what she's doing," Clark said to the fuming defensive head coach. Then Clark pushed past him and crouched down to where Arin was kneeling next to Pete. She was muttering softly to herself.

"C'mon Pete…please move…back injury, possible. Breath sounds…shouldn't move him…Oh God! Please let him be alright." Slowly she reached out and touched his bear wrist, lightly seeking a pulse. Suddenly, she reeled back, gasping. Clark stuck out his hands and steadied her. He focused in, using his x-ray vision to see why his friend wouldn't stir. Clearly, too clearly, he saw the break in the 6th vertebrae; cracked clean through. He closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head.

It couldn't be, it just couldn't. In just one instant everything had changed. One minute it was just a great night of fun. And now his best friend might die, not to mention never walk again. He opened his eyes and noticed that he was still supporting Arin. Did she know? What had sent her reeling? She must know, but how?

Gently, he grabbed her under the elbow and got her to her feet just as the ambulance pulled to a stop on the field. A rescue team piled out, bringing a backboard and other equipment that Clark didn't recognize. Their arrival seemed to jar Arin out of her daze.

"Arin, what happened?" one of them demanded. He knelt next to Pete's unconscious body, feeling for a pulse.

"He…He got hit. I..I don't…good breath sounds, possible…possible spinal trauma." She seemed unable to form complete sentences and her breathing was still short and raspy. "I..I didn't remove his helmet…neck injury…I couldn't, Terry, I couldn't…" she turned, almost oblivious to the people gathered around her. Clark pulled her to his chest, trying to offer some sort of comfort. She was trembling underneath his hands.

Terry the paramedic seemed to understand that that was all he'd get out of her and quickly went to work strapping Pete down to the board. By the time they'd gotten him ready to go, Arin was doing a little better.

"I'm riding with you guys. Please Terry, I have to come.

"Arin, it's against protocol. Besides he's stable," Terry informed her.

"But…Terry, he's my boyfriend, please…" she pleaded. Terry leaned over as they closed up the doors and got it.

"Meet us there outside trauma room one. I'll let you know what's going on, okay?" he said, gently squeezing her hand. She nodded and he climbed in and they took off. The light blazed into the night as the coaches separated to talk to their teams, leaving Clark and Arin standing alone in the desolate field. They walked over to the gap in the fence, slowly since Clark was still supporting the distressed girl. Chloe ran up to them.

"I got a hold of Mrs. Ross and she's going to meet the ambulance there, but other than that, I don't know what to do," she looked at Clark helplessly. Her eyes fell on Arin and she seemed to sink into herself. Neither of them had realized how close the couple had become. Finally, Arin broke the silence.

"Let's go," she said taking a deep breath. Her tremors stopped and slid from Clark's grasp. She made her way through the crowd to the parking lot with determination. When she pulled her keys from her pocket, though, Clark stepped in.

"Here, I'll drive. You're still upset and I don't want you behind the wheel. You and Chloe relax. I'll get us there," Clark said, sounding a hundred times calmer than he felt. He saw relief flood Arin's face and she gratefully handed over her keys. They climbed into her car, a worn out white '93 Chevy, and were off.

Arin felt like her brain was functioning on a dying Double AA battery. She couldn't remember the drive over here. The last thing she remembered was standing on that desolate football field, watching the ambulance lights die in the distance. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She was sitting in the ER waiting room, along with Clark and Chloe. Mrs. Ross had been greeted by the ER's attending, Dr. Davies. Mrs. Ross had been very composed, but it was easy to see that she was very upset. She had been at work late, trying to finish up a deposition for tomorrow and in time to catch the last part of the game. She'd gone to see Pete when he went up for X-rays. Now Chloe sat with her head on Clark's shoulder, half asleep, while Clark stared off into space, refusing to say much. Arin couldn't sit there any longer. She got up quickly and without a word, walked out into the chaos of the ER. In a daze, she made for the elevator. She found herself on the third floor and walked off to the bathroom at the end of the hall. She filled the sink with cold water and splashed some on her face and neck. She raised her face up, dripping, and stared into the mirror at her own reflection. The water had soaked her hair, pushing it away from her face and exposing her right cheek and ear. She ran a damp hand over the red and white speckled scars on and around her ear, tracing them down her jaw bone and back under her hair. The usually white spiral on her cheek was a livid red, aggravated from the rough paper towel she'd used to dry off.

She turned away from the mirror. The last thing she needed tonight was more bad memories. Slowly, she wandered around, from ward to ward, until she found herself in Peds. Oncology. Stupidly, she wandered into the third room on the right, but she knew that Gabbi wasn't there. She'd been released 2 weeks earlier after she'd continued to improve following her surgery. She laid down on the tidy sheets of the narrow bed, wishing that…wishing for what. She closed her eyes and remembered her first date with Pete, and how it had ironically brought them here. That was the day Gabbi's life had changed, and in a way, her's had too. That was the day she's lost her heart.

"She makes them believe in miracles and that's one of the most powerful medicines I've ever seen," is what she'd told Pete that day, and it was true. The Guardian had changed Gabbi's life, making that surgery possible. And now Pete needed the same miracle. Silently, she came to a conclusion, and left the room.

Chloe raised her head off Clark's shoulder and looked at her watch. "It's 1:30," she told Clark, "any word yet?"

"I'd have woken you up if there were. No news yet," he said in a monotone voice. It seemed like all the hope and all the strength was gone from him. He seemed deflated. "I called my parents and yours about an hour ago and told them where we are, so they're not wondering. Arin wandered off about an hour ago too. Hasn't been back."

Chloe sat up, stretching and said, "alright, I can't sit here any longer. I'm gonna go find Arin, you go get Mrs. Ross and meet us downstairs in the cafeteria. I need some coffee and I'll bet that Mrs. Ross could too." With that, she stood up and left. Clark just sat there for a minute, not sure if his legs would support him. Finally, he gave a deep sigh and pulled himself to his feet and out the door.

Arin saw Mrs. Ross slumped over in her chair, staring at her son's still figure. Quietly, not wishing to disturb the woman, she crept into the room. When the door creaked shut though, Mrs. Ross sat bolt upright, looking immediately at the monitors covering the wall and watching her son's vitals.

"Oh Arin, you surprised me."

"Sorry Mrs. Ross. How's he? How're you?" she asked in a whisper, almost afraid to know more.

"Dr. Davies said that he cracked a vertebra in his spine. She…she said that," she took a deep breath, steadying her voice, "that there's extensive nerve damage. He might be paralyzed."

Arin nodded, "we'll know more in the morning," she said. "Right now he looks stable. I'll stay with him for a while. Why don't you go get some fresh air. It'll be good for you," she said, putting her arm around the tired woman's shoulders and helping her to her feet.

"Yeah…come get me if something changes," she said, walking toward the door.

"I will, I will." And suddenly she found herself alone, facing the mass of wires and tubes that were now the barrier between life and death for her boyfriend.

Slowly she approached the bed, scared for herself, and utterly terrified for him. Gently, she reached down and, moving aside the tubes, planted a light kiss on his cheek. Then she took his left hand in her own and placed her right hand on his forehead. Taking a deep breath, she focused all her strength and energy on Pete.

Clark slowly wandered back to room 365 on the first floor. He's passes Pete's room several time, but he didn't have the strength to go in. He couldn't bear to see his friend like that. That immobile figure wasn't the Pete he knew. But he'd been around what felt like the entire hospital and he couldn't find Arin, so he slowed by the door and, almost reluctantly, reached for the knob. When suddenly a wave of pain washed over him. The veins on his outstretched hand glowed throbbing and green. He reeled back against the wall of the empty hallway, breathing heavily. His mind reeled in panic as he scrambled to figure out what was going on. Nervously, Clark focused on the blank white hospital door until he was looking through it, into the room beyond. He clearly saw two figures, one lying supine on the bed. The other one was crouched on the floor, one side of the down-turned skull glowing green.

Clark closed his eyes, setting muscle and skin and walls back in place. Something was going on in there! He had to get to Pete. He struggled to get back to the door when the pain vanished almost as quickly as it had come on. He threw back the door and charged into the room. On her hands and knees, bent on the floor, Arin gasped for breath, her scar pulsing red against her sickly pale cheek. Clark stood framed in the doorway, awestruck. He quickly focused back on his best friend's figure, peering through the skin and sewin to the spinal cord, which was once again intact, as if nothing had happened. He continued to stare dumbly through his friend which provided him all to good a view when Pete's heart suddenly stopped. He cleared his vision and scrambled forward, alarms going off throughout the room. But Arin struggled to her knees and put both her hands on Pete's chest. Clark backed into the corner of the room farthest from bed, where Arin continued to do compression, the right side of her face and her fingertips glowing the sickly green of the meteor rocks. Several seconds passed when all the alarms scilenced at once as Pete's heart monitor registered a normal rythem. They only sound in the room now was a loud 'crack' as Arin collapsed, head bouncing against the hard tile floor.

The ringing in Clark's ears subsided and he stumbled weakly over to where Arin lay. Down the hall, he could hear the sounds of approaching footsteps and loud voices, drawn by the alarm. Quickly, he scooped Arin into his arms and, with one more backward glance at Pete, sped out of the room, just seconds before the doctors charged in.