Blue lights flashed hastily along the highway. The late night drivers cleared the way, allowing the ambulance to slip through with ease. Upon the hard shoulder sat the elegantly coloured tour bus of 'Sick Racket', formally owned by another band on the label. Round by the bus's rear, two figures stood, one holding a large umbrella while the other waved their arms in the air at the emergency vehicle.
The parametics reversed in, lifted their equipment and dashed towards the pair. The two, which appeared to be men, welcomed them before leading them into the bus.
"He's through here." Said the shorter of the two.
They were lead into what appeared to be the 'living room' of the bus where there stood four individuals. Stretched out on the couch was a fragile looking male, his lilac coloured fringe stuck to his forehead while the rest was in a matted tangled. His naked chest was rising and falling slowly, his rips protruding through his flesh and across his skin there were numerous cuts and incisions.
"What happened?" Asked one of the paramedics.
"I-I think he overdosed." Replied Eva, who stood within the circle of men.
The trained professionals moved forward, brushing the on lookers out of their way, and began to check his vitals. His chest was poked and prodded, his faint pulse found in his neck, wrist and chest and his airways checked. His eye lids were gently lifted to reveal blood shot eyes, their dark hazel faded and the pupils twice their natural size.
The man was drugged; and heavily.
"Does he take drugs? Cocaine? Cannabis? Heroin?"
The surrounding crew glanced at each other.
"He's been known to experiment." Goten stated.
"As all young musicians tend to." Muttered one of the parametics, "We need to get him to a hospital."
While he was tied down to the stretcher, Issac dashed down to the other end of the bus and quickly returned holding two medical bottles.
"Here." He handed them to outstretched hand of a third paramedic, "They were in his room."
With a nod the three of them moved out into the rain, followed by the crew. The man was hoisted into the back of the ambulance, the back doors were slammed shut and the two remaining men climbed into the front seat.
"Follow behind."
With that simple answer, the four remaining band members and the single roadie dashed back to their vehicle and prepared to follow their friend to what could be his death bed.
With a few, strong tugs he was pulled from the void. The darkness that had been surrounding him was broken by a sudden bright light as his eyes shot open. There were three, maybe four, strange individuals standing over him and the noise made his head throb. His ears were ringing, his throat felt raw and there was great pressure on his windpipe.
"Sir, sir?" it was muffled but no doubt directed at him, "Mr Briefs? Stay with us."
Where else could he go? He was too tired to even keep his focus and his body felt like lead. The memory of what had happened the previous night was confusing; he felt like a small child trying to do an algebra problem.
"Doctor, he needs to be put under sedation and moved ---"
"I know I know."
A needle was forced into the crook of his arm.
"His veins are in bad shape."
The cool feeling of drugs being forced into his system made his spine tingle. Soon his whole body felt numb and he could no longer keep his eyes open.
Goten, Issac, Zane and Eva all sat in a private room. Their roadie, Maus, had gone to the food hall to bring coffee, tea and comfort food for the band.
"I should ring Bulma." Eva sighed.
"And tell her what?" Issac spat, "Oh hey there, the son you haven't spoke to in god knows how long has just almost, nearly died. How are you sweetheart?" his mock of Eva's voice was met with a childish middle finger, "No, I didn't think so dear."
"Well someone should contact her." Zane muttered.
They all fell silent and for a few moments seemed to take great interest in the room around them. Until Goten stood and went to gaze at a painting; all I eyes went to him.
"I'll do it. I mean, I've known Trunks since atom. I know his Mom, Dad and sister. I should be the one to break the call."
"Yeah-"
"But not yet."
"Why?" Issac asked, "I mean better now than later, right?"
"We don't know if he's out of the woods. I don't want to call them to tell him he is in the hospital and then have to call back and say that he is dead."
Issac chewed on his lip. He watched the tall boy as he folded his tattooed arms across his broad chest and studied the art before him. He had recently gotten a new hairstyle from Eva and, to be honest, it suited him. It had been left unwashed and them skilfully dreadlocked down his back. So far it reached midway down his back and the small hints of blue that he had put in it on a very drunken night swirled within the dreads. Some coils of silver string twisted around them while on his forehead he wore a folded, patterned bandana.
Issac took a moment to think back to when they first met; this Goten had truly matured.
"We've all come so far together, haven't we?"
Goten turned to look at his sentimental friend.
"I mean, dude, I've seen you grow up. I've seen Eva and Zane grow up. And I watched Trunks grow up."
Goten smiled softly. Eva placed a hand on Issac's.
"And we watched you grow up."
"Why are we talking like this? We are all barely twenty; this is crazy. Trunks will be fine. We will get him help." Zane stated.
They all nodded half heartedly before settling back into the soft recliners. Just then, Maus staggered into the room, weighed down under the weight of coffee cups, sandwiches and other such treats.
"Grubs up!" he announced before dropping the arm full of stuff onto a nearby table.
"Any news on Trunks?" Eva jumped up and took the first mug of coffee she could get her hands on; Caffeine was a priceless thing.
"Yeah, passed a doctor on the way. He's stable. Seems like he'll make it but the next few hours are crucial or something."
Goten sighed. Isaac laid a hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Dude. Don't put it off."
Without another word, Goten left the room and went to find the nearest phone.