A/N: I promise this will be an eventual Jommy...Mitch will merely serve to be a, um, BIG distraction. Take that as you will, I guess. Please don't hate me at the end of this chapter--you never know what I might do next. Thank you all soooooooo much for the reviews; I love them and they keep this story going. You're all amazin!

xx

Chapter 5

The multi-storied building loomed in front of me, surprisingly intimidating in the early hours of the morning, or the late hour of the night, depending on which way you looked at it. The ride had been blissfully uneventful, although I know Tommy wanted to drag me off of Mitch's lap--probably into his own, I was betting from the glares he occasionally shot our way.

As we drove, I quietly conversed with Mitch and learned the generic basics of who he was. He was 22 years old and had three younger sisters--Kate (20), Dana (18), and Rachel (17). My earlier assumption was correct--Mitch did indeed surf, although purely as a hobby and only on weekends or vacations. He lived on the top floor of what I assumed was a very nice apartment complex and worked for his father's business, and with three sisters, it was given that he would follow in his dad's footsteps and take over the family business.

As I began to steer into his personal life, Mitch diverted the subject by asking about me and I found myself openly telling himself about the past few years of my life, including Instant Star. He said he thought he recognized my name because all three of his sisters enjoyed my music--which did great things for my ego--but didn't know for sure and he didn't want to make an ass of himself. I didn't mention my family, and thankfully Mitch didn't ask. Tommy didn't interject anything the entire way to the hospital, and I decided that was because he was devoting his full concentration to driving. Hey, even at one or two in the morning, traffic in L.A. was monstrous. A couple of minutes later I saw a sign that read "MEMORIAL GRACE HOSPITAL," and my gut clenched painfully.

Tommy killed the engine, but I was frozen, my body rigid as I stared at the entrance. Dread couldn't even begin to describe what I was feeling at the moment. How could I walk into this building, knowing that my father and sister were somewhere inside those walls, possibly dying, or maybe already...

Mitch must have felt how stiff my body was, because the pressure of his arms increased slightly, and it felt strangely reassuring, even though I'd known him for less than an hour. I guess riding in someone's lap overrules any possible awkwardness there might be otherwise.

"Jude, you ready?" Tommy gently asked, and I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Mentally steeling myself for whatever awaited me inside the hospital, I opened the door to the Viper and moved to get out. Mitch released his arms that were encircling me, and the sudden loss of warmth and security only emphasized the magnitude of how alone I felt at the moment.

I didn't wait for Tommy or Mitch. I could've sworn I existed somewhere else and was watching my body march towards the door, ready to accept whatever fate decided to deal me and my family. In a way, it felt like I was walking the plank--but neither Jack Sparrow nor Will Turner were near enough to save me, and I could already envision the water swirling over my head as my body was dragged down by the weight of my clothes and my inability to swim because of the rope binding my wrists. I wondered, though, who was Jack and who was Will? Glancing up, I looked straight into the glare of a lightpole in the parking lot and imagined it as my last glimpse of the sun beneath the water as darkness engulfed me.

Um, can anybody say morbid much?

Why was I doing this to myself? I didn't even know anything yet, so there was no need to worry this much...right?

Hurry.

Damn that word.

Damn Officer Steele for saying it.

Damn the world for putting me through this.

Just damn.

Because that's what I felt like--damned

I found myself standing in front of the entrance to the hospital, unable to open the door. No matter how hard I tried, I could not will myself to reach out and grab the handle, allowing me to enter and find out the truth about Sadie and Stuart. Because I'll admit it--I really didn't want to know.

Fate had other plans, though, because suddenly Mitch opened the door for me, and my feet finally moved forward, each step sounding like it echoed off the walls of the night sky and disappeared among the stars.

"Jude?" Tommy had come up behind me and placed a hand on my back, propelling me even further into the building. I heard the door close as Mitch followed us in.

I stopped dead in my tracks. Looking around the lobby, I was appalled. It was all so...peaceful. Sure, there were people sitting anxiously in the chairs, nurses working behind the desk, and interns walking down the halls appearing preoccupied. But there was no gurney with a bleeding body on it, no EMT shouting the vitals of someone, no one rushing around acting like the end of the world.

Which it was.

Mitch and Tommy went up to the nurses' desk, spoke a few words to an elderly woman and each other, then went their separate ways. Tommy returned to where my feet were still planted as Mitch disappeared around a corner, casting one last unreadable look back at me.

"The nurse said that Sadie and Stuart are still in surgery. They don't know anything yet, so all we can do is wait. Mitch just went to get checked out." Tommy reported as he drew nearer. "She said we can have a private waiting room, if you want to go sit down. We'll talk to Officer Steele later; he's busy for the next few hours."

Surgery. I nodded absently, not really caring what we did. All I cared about was my father and sister, and whether or not they would live to see another day. I let Tommy lead me into a strange, barren room, dimly lit by two old lamps. He took a seat in a padded chair, while I limply leaned against a wall before sliding to the ground, my knees pressed against my chest. Tommy watched me, but didn't make a move to join me.

For once, this was something Tommy wouldn't be able to help me with. This wasn't a problem with the lyrics, or the notes, or the guitar solo, or the hook. Perfectionism was no use against this terror. This problem was bigger than both of us. This problem was life and death. And all either of us could do was pray.

And I did. Feverishly.

x.xxx.x

After about two hours, Tommy began pacing the small length of the room. I was ready to shoot him. He was not helping, here--in fact, he was probable making it worse. Of course, he didn't notice the sour look on my face or the occasional glare I sent his way; everything was always about Tommy.

"I'm going to go get some coffee. You want any?" I offered and I rose from my crouched position on the floor. He nodded, not saying how he took his coffee because I already knew and telling me would be redundant.

One black, one with cream and sugar. Just as I was about to return to the waiting room, someone tapped me on my shoulder and I jumped, spilling the scalding hot coffee on one my arms. I yelped in pain, almost dropping the cups but somehow managing to hold onto them despite the pain searing across my skin.

"Christ, Jude, I'm so sorry!" Mitch apologized as he grabbed some napkins to try and sop the hot liquid off of my arm. I didn't think any serious damage was done; mainly, it was hot and unexpected, especially after he had tapped me on the shoulder. "Really, I-I didn't mean to startle you like that..."

I smiled at him as warmly as I could under the circumstances. "Mitch, it's ok." I looked at my arm--it was pink, but not the shiny pink of a fresh burn. "My arm's fine--no harm, no foul." He nodded, but I could tell he still felt awful about it. Suddenly, I found myself liking the fact that he cared so much. I'd had guys spill everything from beer to wine on me and not even bother to stop and apologize.

He took the cup that I had spilled and refilled it before placing it back in my hand. Glancing up into his face, I noticed a large bandage on his head.

"How's your head?" I asked. He looked confused for a moment before answering.

"Oh, it's fine. Five stitches, no problem. But they decided to run a bunch of other tests, just to make sure nothing else was wrong and I didn't have a concussion or anything, so I only got done a little while ago. Then I decided to come see if you were still here." Mitch answered with a smile.

I felt my face flush--he had come to find me. Okay, this was not good. The last guy I had gotten unglued around was, um...uh...okay, it's been that long. I honestly think it was Tommy, and before that probably Shay. I'd always been comfortable around Jamie and Speed since we'd known each other forever, so they didn't count.

Mitch and I chatted for a few minutes before I said I had to be getting back. Thankfully, he didn't ask why I was here, which I respected, because I really didn't think I'd be able to tell him without breaking down. As I was moving to walk away, he gently grabbed my wrist so as not to spill the cup of coffee it was holding. No point in making the same mistake twice.

"Wait. I, um, wanted to thank you and Tommy for giving me a ride here and everything. And I-I...I was wondering if I could see you again after this." He must've noticed my surprised expression. "Just as friends--I want to get to know you better, I guess. In what I do, it's hard to meet honest people that you can have a real friendship with. Most people just try and get on my good side because they know I'll be calling all of the shots one day."

My face was stoic for a moment before it broke out into a huge grin. I'd kind of assumed that we'd keep in touch after we left the hospital, and I was glad that he actually wanted to. We quickly exchanged numbers before I scurried back to the waiting room where Tommy was probably...waiting.

x.xxx.x

"What took you so long?" Tommy asked as he took the cup from me. Well gee, you're welcome.

"I, uh, had some trouble finding the coffee maker. Sorry." I replied, instantly wondering why I'd just lied to Tommy about what had held me up. It wasn't like me talking to Mitch was bad or anything...I just figured it'd be better if I didn't mention it to Tommy. Actually, I knew it'd be best not to tell Tommy about it, especially after the ride here. His silence was still grating on my ears.

The interrogation came to an abrupt end, though, because a knock sounded at the door before an impassive-faced doctor walked into the room.

"I'm Doctor Stevens." he introduced, shaking hands with both of us. "Are you the relatives of Stuart and Sadie Harrison?"

"I am." I said quietly. "My father and sister." The doctor nodded, and a silence ensued. Well? Come on, Doc, start talking--this is killing me. I need to know!

Dr. Stevens released a sigh. "I've been in surgery the last three and a half hours with Stuart Harrison." My breath caught in my throat, scared of what might be coming next. I vaguely remember a familiar hand clasping my own. "The car was hit on the driver's side, directly where he was sitting. There was a lot of internal bleeding that we were unable to stop...we lost him, I'm sorry."

The room began to spin, like I was on that ride at the amusement park. Tilt-a-whirl, was that what it was called? I couldn't remember, because the room was spinning too fast for me to comprehend anything besides the fact that my father was dead. Dead. How can someone be alive a few hours ago and then the next thing you know they're gone? You'll never speak to them again, never hear them laugh, never never never...

Tommy's hand had mine in a death grip, I could feel the breakdown coming on, but I somehow managed to hold it together long enough to ask one last question.

"And Sadie?"

A/N: All the cool people review. You should jump on the bandwagon.