Chapter 8: Bedside Revelations
Cold white lights, the rush of wind. Doctors clamoring, words that didn't make sense. Scott tried desperately to hold on to consciousness, pain sending lightning through his body every time he tried to speak. Noise and colors swirled around him and he was faintly aware of something warm flowing down his stomach.
"I…saac…" he said weakly and he slipped away into darkness.
Then everything became clear and he was standing in a field of summer flowers, a light wind blowing through his hair. "What the…" he said and looked around. He was alone in the field and it seemed familiar to him somehow. "Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice came from behind and Scott turned around to see a tall man next to him, arms crossed over his broad chest.
"DAD?!" Scott said and tripped over a stone, falling sideways. His father laughed and shook his head. "Still as graceful, I see," he said with an amused tone and helped his son up. "How… What…" Scott stammered out and his father laughed. "Use your words, Scotty," he said and Scott flew into his father's arms, hugging him fiercely. "Dad," Scott breathed into his father's chest, tears falling as he felt strong arms around him, smelling his father's aftershave and a hint of diesel oil – everything that had always reminded Scott of his father. "I'm here," he said as Scott sobbed into his shirt and he stroked the top of Scott's head, "Daddy's here."
After a minute, Scott let go of his father slowly and wiped his eyes dry. His father smiled down at him and nudged Scott's chin with his knuckles. "Walk with me," he said and Scott nodded. As they walked through the field silently, Scott suddenly remembered why this place seemed so familiar. "We came here when I was small," he said and his father looked at him and nodded. "It was a beautiful day and your mother insisted we do this," he said wistfully and smiled, his eyes crinkling around the sides, just like Scott remembered.
"Dad…" Scott said and stopped, "Am I dead?" His father's smile faltered a little and he put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Not yet, my boy," he said and looked to the sky, "Not if you fight back." Scott looked up at the sky and he noticed that clouds had begun to gather. "How?" Scott asked and his father sighed. "Remember the night I walked out?" he asked and lightning flashed across the sky. Scott nodded as he felt a pang of memory and suddenly they were standing in the living room of their old house, a broken table in the living room and a shouting match echoing through the house.
Scott's father was shouting at his mother and his mother was holding her ground, matching her husband's voice. Scott looked at his father who was standing next to him with a pained expression on his face and he smiled at Scott, taking his hand. "I'm sorry, Scott," he said as Scott brushed a tear away from his cheek. "Did you really hate us?" Scott asked quietly and his father frowned and looked down. "I never hated you or your mother, Scott," he said and turned his son towards him. "Listen to me," his father said and put his fingers on Scott's chin, making Scott look up at him, "I love you. I love you, you hear me. I never stopped loving you and I never will stop. You're my son and Melissa is my wife. I left because in anger and I regretted it my whole life."
Scott realized something then, like a cold splash of water in his face. "Dad… you're dead aren't you?" he asked and his father smiled at him. "This is about you, not me, Scotty," he said and just as he said that, Scott saw his who was shouting at his mother storm out of the kitchen into the foyer. He was so angry, but as he turned and saw a young Scott standing by the stairs, cheeks stained with tears, his anger seemed to break a little. The older Scott looked at the stairs and saw himself as a young boy and remembered the pain that he had felt, the questions that had haunted him for years after that. As his father opened the door and began to slam it shut, his father who was holding him leaned up and caught the door. "If you want to go back, go through the door, Scott," he said and Scott nodded before he hugged his father for the final time.
"I love you, Dad," he said and a tear slid down his father's face. "I love you too, Scott," he said and held the door open, "Tell your mother for me?" Scott nodded and walked through the door. He was about to look behind him to see his old house again, but then his vision blurred and his whole body felt heavier than a brick house. Scott gasped as his head began to throb and he felt a slight pain in his side.
The first thing that hit him was the light, bright and white fluorescent lights that burned his eyes. He exhaled a breath and turned his throbbing head to the side and he saw a head of long brown hair lying down on a bit of bed next to him. "…M-Mom…" he said weakly and reached out, his fingers brushing a bit of her hair. Mrs. McCall roused and lifted her head a little before she shot out of her chair. "Scott?" she said softly, her hand cool against the top of his head. Scott smiled a little and Mrs. McCall smiled back at her son, saying softly, "Oh Scotty."
"S-…Sorry," Scott said, but his mother shook her head and wiped his forehead. "Don't," she said and he saw that tears had begun to form in her eyes, "You're alright, that's all that matters." Mrs. McCall took a cup of water with a straw and held it up to Scott's mouth like she'd known he was thirsty and he drank what little he could manage. "Isaac?" he said, his throat being soothed by the cool liquid and his mother looked across the bed. Scott turned his head to see a sleeping Isaac in of the chairs, his head half hidden in one of his arms. "He's been here all the time," she said and Scott smiled at the sleeping form, his heart leaping a little. "How long was… I out?" Scott asked and Mrs. McCall looked at him with a pained expression. "You've been out for a month, honey," she said and Scott's eyes widened.
"A month?!" he said, startled and Mrs. McCall chuckled. "You've been out for two three days," she said and Scott managed to give her a half hearted scowl. "The doctors say that you'll be ready to leave be the end of the week," she said and Scott nodded and sighed. Mrs. McCall went over to Isaac and put a hand on his shoulder. "Isaac, honey?" she said softly and Isaac woke up instantly. He looked disorientated for a moment, looking around like someone had let off a firecracker, but when he put a hand on Mrs. McCall's hand, he seemed to calm down. He looked up at her and she smiled, nodding in Scott's direction and he looked at Scott.
Scott smiled at him and Isaac practically leapt to Scott's side, taking his hand and smiling widely, not hiding the tears that began to fall. "Scott," he said quietly and Scott smiled up at him. "Hi," he said and Isaac put his head down on Scott's chest and held him close. "I thought I lost you," Isaac said softly and Scott smiled. "I'm right here," he said and Isaac looked up at him before he leaned down, touching his forehead against Scott's. "I'm here too," Isaac said and Scott put a hand on the back of Isaac's neck, breathing in Isaac and then he remembered his father.
As Isaac leaned up from the bed, Scott held on to Isaac's hands and looked at his mother. "Mom," he said and his mother came to his bedside and took his other hand, "Mom I saw dad." Mrs. McCall's eyes widened a little and she cocked her head in confusion. "What d'you mean, honey?" she asked and Scott squeezed her fingers. "Mom, is dad dead?" he asked and Isaac looked at Mrs. McCall the same time she looked down. "Scott…" she said sadly. "Mom please," he said and Mrs. McCall looked up at him with tears in her eyes again and she nodded. "Last year," she said and Scott felt a lump in his throat. "Wh-Why didn't you t-tell me?" he asked, his voice quivering a little. His mother brought his hand up to her lips and kissed it before she sniffed and sighed.
"I was going to tell you, Scott," she said and smiled a painful smile, "But then we had to move and there was never a good time… Well there isn't a good time to bring something like this up. But I was going to tell you, Scott." Scott looked away from her, a tear sliding down to his ear. "I'm so sorry, Scott," she said but Scott shook his head and looked back at his mother. "I get it," he said and smiled at her. She nodded at him and wiped her eyes with her blouse sleeve. "How was he?" she asked with a small smile and Scott smiled at her. "Just like how I remember him," he said and she smiled, remembering her husband in his glory days.
"He told me to tell you that he loves you mom," Scott said and his mother's eyebrows knit together a little, she closed her fingers around her son's hand more securely and she fought to keep her voice level. "H-He was always s-so romantic," she said and Scott looked at Isaac who let go of him, giving him a smile before he went around the bed and hugged Mrs. McCall. As she hugged Isaac back, she sniffed and cried, finally letting a year's worth of secrets and strength ebb away from her, breaking down properly at the loss of Scott's father. Scott shed a few tears, but never let go of Isaac's hand which Isaac had caught a hold of as Mrs. McCall had let go. Thanks, Scott mouthed to Isaac and Isaac smiled at Scott, nodding.
Derek came into the room a while later, holding cups of coffee and had smiled broadly when he saw that Scott was awake. "Finally," he said, "We were about to pull the plug on you, kid." Mrs. McCall gasped before they laughed and Scott held his side in pain. "D-Don't make me laugh," Scott said, still holding his side, but a smile plastered on his face. Isaac never let go of his hand and through the laughs and the smiles and finally the soft looks that meant everything without words, Isaac held onto Scott and Scott never let go of Isaac's hand.
It was a time of happiness, but then Scott remembered something that darkened the mood of the room. "Derek," he said and Derek looked at him, a glint in his eyes, "Did they find out who shot me?" The room went to a pin drop silence and Derek's smirk vanished from his face. "Scott why don't you rest up and we'll talk in the morning?" Mrs. McCall answered, but Scott shook his head. "Tell me," he said and looked at Isaac who had looked down, "Tell me who it is."
"It was someone that was sent by Isaac's father," Derek said finally and Mrs. McCall gave him a stern look to which he ignored. "Scott," Isaac said, his voice strained and his eyebrows knit together in the saddest look Scott had ever seen,
"The guy who killed you was my brother."