A week passes, and they just keep getting better.
Murphy is allowed out for half an hour each day, in the wheelchair, and he just comes alive outside of the hospital room. Connor smiles when his brother begins to insist on pushing himself, though he steps in when it becomes clear that Murphy is working himself too hard.
Still, they sit in the cafeteria for a while, and wander the corridors, and Murphy starts to just chat again.
Connor's gotten used to the weight of the cast on his wrist, and he's always been familiar with the weight of looking after his brother. The pressure starts to fade, now that the bruises are healing and the scrapes are becoming less red. As the abrasions got better, so did Murphy.
The sight of a bruised, but smiling Murphy is seen more and more often, now that he's allowed to wear his own worn t-shirts and even a pair of too big sweatpants—cut above the knees to allow the doctors to examine his legs each day. Their things are spread out across the small room, after the welcome disappearance of some of the bigger machines. Murphy still has two IVs inserted at all times, but he's not hooked up to half as much stuff, and the looks of pity are slowly starting to fade from the nurses' eyes.
"I'm bored," His brother moans, and Connor looks up to see Murphy tossing a book halfway across the room. "There's nothing to do here, and I want to go home."
"I know, Murph."
This has become a common theme with Murphy, him complaining about how he wants to go home. Connor's not sure when he's going to be released, soon he figures, but now he's not certain how good of an idea that is. It's obvious that Murphy will be confined to a wheelchair for at least a few weeks, with two broken legs, but their house is anything but wheelchair accessible. It's cramped and filled with awkward corners and too much stuff, and in the middle of nowhere.
Connor's not sure how they're going to make it work for everything, when he watched Murphy struggle to manoeuvre the wheelchair in the spacious hospital corridors. And when they go home, Connor will probably be made to go to school for at least some of the time, and Ma works longs hours, and he's just not sure how they're going to cope.
Luckily, a knock at the door saves both brothers from the bickering that was sure to ensue, and they glance up to see a nurse and two policemen at the door.
They both frown immediately, and Connor stands up quickly, moving himself slightly so he's positioned in front of Murphy, who reaches out a hand and grabs his brother's t-shirt gently, "Can I help ye two?" Connor asks carefully, not moving as the two men enter the room uninvited.
"Connor, is it?" One of them asks, and reaches out to shake his hand. "My name is Officer Noonan, and this is Officer O'Loughlin. We're here to talk about the accident… if you boys are ready?"
He shakes the offered hand slowly, and backs up a step until his back hits the edge of the bed. Murphy looks around him warily, and makes some kind of sound as the Gardaí greet him in a similar manner. Connor steals a glance at his brother, and sees Murphy's carefully constructed expression, the one he puts on when strangers are in the room.
"What do you want to know?" His brother's voice is steady, and controlled.
The men seem to wait for a moment, for Connor to move to the side slightly so that they can see Murphy. After a few seconds, Murphy tugs at the hem of Connor's shirt, as a means of telling him to sit, and he drops heavily into the chair closest to the bed, motioning for the policemen to do the same.
When they're all seated, the questions begin, "Can you both just tell us what happened that day, in your own words?"
"We were walking home from school. I don't—I don't remember much. But just that there was a car, and that Connor was gonna get hit, and then I think I pushed him out of the way," Murphy turns to look at his brother, frowning in concentration, and looks confused.
Connor nods with a grimace, "Yeah, Murph. That's what happened. Ye were eating blackberries, by Callaghan's field, an' we were fighting, I think. Then we came ta the corner, an' this car came out of nowhere, an' ye pushed me outta the way, an'… an' then I don't know?"
"Would you be able to identify the car, do you think?"
Just as he was nodding, Murphy stiffened, and leaned forward, "Do ye mean that ye haven't caught the guy?"
"We… We haven't had anyone come forward, as of yet. It would appear as though the driver drove off after hitting you two, almost immediately. You were found a few minutes later, by an American tourist and her husband. They called an ambulance, and you were brought to hospital from there."
There was silence for a few minutes after that revelation, and Connor looked over worriedly to his brother. Murphy is breathing heavily, hands clenched in the blankets, and his head is bowed. He shakes off Connor's hand, as he tries to comfort his brother, and just closes his eyes.
When Murphy finally manages to look up, with tears threatening to spill over, he looks furious.
"Whoever that was in that car, they left me. They left me and my brother, on the side of the road, to die. They broke me, crippled me, and trapped me in here!" Murphy throws his hands up to gesture at the room, and slams his fist down on the mattress, "What kind of person does that? What—how could you just leave two kids on the side of the road? They— I can't walk, I can't run, I can't do fuckin' anythin' because of that—How could they just leave us there!"
Connor doesn't think that he's ever seen Murphy as wound up or upset as he is now. His brother's chest is heaving, and tears are streaming down his face, but still he flinches away from Connor's touch. Murphy's bruised face is shining with resentment and pain, as he shoves Connor away for the third time.
"We'll, ah, leave now. Sorry to have upset you both." The two Gardaí stand quickly, and apologise profusely, before hurrying out the door.
Murphy just turns away from him, as far away as he can get without moving his legs, and pulls the blanket over his head, "Go away, Connor. Leave me alone."
He runs out of the room, feeling the burning pain in his ribs, and the pounding of his heart. A tear escapes down his cheek, and Connor scrubs it away before he catches up with the two policemen, "Wait! Wait, I think I can help identify the car. I saw it, for a few seconds at least."
They end up in the cafeteria. One of the men buys him a hot chocolate, and Connor wraps his shaking hands around it to disguise his lack of control. "Whenever you're ready, lad. We… we assumed that someone had told your brother about what had happened. Otherwise I would have had more tact," The first man offers, with a sad smile.
"It's okay. Murph is a bit… It's been tough on him." He takes a sip of the beverage, and almost enjoys the burning sensation that goes down his throat as he swallows, "It was an expensive car, a silver one. I remember that it was shiny—I could see my reflection in it. The driver… I think it was a man, with blonde hair, maybe? I don't—I only caught a glimpse. Ye don't see a lot of those cars around though, not where we're from anyway."
Connor shrugs, suddenly self-conscious, and rubs at his cast. "That's good, Connor, that's very good." They're taking notes, in a small black notepad, and he wonders what they're writing down.
"He might have been speeding… I mean, he came around that corner so fast. We didn't stand a chance. He jus'…"
The two policemen ask him a few more meaningless questions, ones that he's not able to answer, before thanking him for his time. Connor is handed a tiny card, with their numbers on it, and their first names scrawled beside it as well, "Call us if you remember anything else, okay?"
"Yeah, sure. Thanks, uh, Paddy and Michael."
.
Murphy is asleep by the time Connor returns to the room.
He's only been gone for twenty minutes at the most, but it seemed as though Murphy's emotions had overwhelmed him. There are tearstains on his brother's cheeks, and his fists are clenched, and hair messy, as though he had ran his hands through it.
Connor sets the bed into a more reclined position quietly, using the controls, and settles down in the swivel chair with a photo album that Ma had brought. From the looks of the stuff, she had grabbed a box and tried to fit as many things inside as possible from their room.
The pictures inside are grainy and faded, but he traces their smiling faces with a finger, and wishes that he could rewind time to three weeks ago. When he looks up at Murphy, whose sleeping face looks pained and anguished, Connor is filled with a sense of failure.
He's failed his brother.
.
He wakes up to see Connor looking out the window, a devastated look on his face.
"I'm sorry," Murphy says, and scratches at one of the IV sites, "I didn't mean ta get so… angry at ye earlier. I'm not mad at you, jus'—that person left us bleedin' in the middle of the road, and I… I didn't know how to deal with it."
Connor doesn't say anything, just pulls Murphy into a gentle hug. He smiles softly then, and pushes the call button carefully, "Ye want ta go fer another walk?"
Murphy snorts with the irony of the question, but allows Connor and a nurse to manoeuvre him into the wheelchair awkwardly. It hurts, when they have to lift his limp legs off the bed and slide them over onto the extended footrests, but he doesn't even mind anymore. Anything is better than being confined to the bed.
Instead of taking their usual route, to the cafeteria, Connor takes the handles and pushes him a different way.
He doesn't comment, just watches the people that pass them by, and wonder what they must be thinking of him. They're all strangers in this part of the hospital, just normal people that Murphy will never see again, and that'll be gone from his life in seconds. He decides that he likes the anonymity of it all, and even winks at a girl their own age, when he gathers up the courage. She giggles, and hurries past them, and Connor laughs at him.
It isn't until the cool air hits his face that Murphy realises where they are.
Connor wheels him out the front door of the hospital, tossing his jumper down at him as Murphy shivers. "You're only allowed out fer five minutes, so you'd better enjoy it," He warns, as Murphy lets out a whoop of excitement, and pulls the jumper on over all the layers of clothing that he already had on.
He grips the wheels, and rolls himself forward down the path, breathing in as much of the evening air as he can. Murphy keeps pushing himself until he reaches a section of the path that manages to overlook a main road. Looking at the mass of cars moving past them at a distance, and all the people just being normal, he lets out a sigh.
"Ye okay?" Connor comes up behind him, and kneels down so it's as if he's sitting beside Murphy.
"Aye, I am. Jus' thinkin' that's all... Ye know what, Connor?" His brother looks at him with a curious expression, releasing his breath in a cloud of warm air. Murphy pauses for a moment to do the same, and then says quietly, "Yer pretty great. Fer a younger brother, that is."
.
Quick update! Thanks so much for the reviews from the last chapter – you guys are the best, and I hope you enjoyed this one. I'd love to hear any thoughts on this chapter, if you have a chance.
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ArmedWithMyComputer xx