Unable to prevent

The call had shaken my world and I'm not sure if it will ever be the same again. I'm waiting in the ER for a sign from my husband or my son. But nothing. I'm living through every mother's and wife's worse nightmare.

"They'll be okay, I'm sure." My son says. He tried to stay optimistic and that's healthy. But after the phone call I'm not that sure about this anymore.

"Mrs. Cohen?" A doctor comes towards us. I'm afraid what he has to tell me. No matter if it was my husband or my son.

"Yes?" I get up.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Stevson. I only wanted to tell you that you can take your husband home now." I feel relieve spreading through my body.

"So, he's okay?"

"Technically yes, besides a light concussion and a laceration he's fine."

"But?" I ask him. The word technically uses to mean something bad.

"Well, he's still in shock, not able yet to handle what had happened. Thus I suggest you go home and let him rest. We've administered some sedatives and pain killers and I'll give you some home, so he'll be able to rest. He should at least stay at home for one week and take it easy for the next few weeks." The doctor tells me. And how my husband will rest. I won't allow him any movement. He won't even leave the house.

"Can we go to him?" My son asks.

"Of course. He's in this room." The doctor points at a door, across from us. But there was something missing and panic makes my heart heavy again.

"Doctor, do you…do you know something about my son?" I ask him.

"Sorry I have no information on that." He says and then leaves us.

My son and I enter the room. My husband sits, fully dressed on a gurney. As soon as we'll arrive at home I'll throw these cloths away. These are only reminders of an evening I never want to live through again. Unfortunately it's not over yet, because one is still missing.

"Hey honey, how are you?" I ask him, when I step to his side. His eyes are blank…no, not blank. There are too many emotions that I could tell what they say to me.

"Oh God Kirsten." He says, gets up and takes me into his arms. It feels as if he never wants to let me lose again and I appreciate this feeling, because I never want to let him lose again either.

"Is okay Sandy. Everything will be okay." I tell him. My son steps at our side and rubs my husband's back. It's strange to see how mature your child can be in situations like this one. Instead of freaking out – what would have been understandable – he remains calm and tries to be there for us. It feels wrong in somehow, because I'm used to be there for him. I don't want him to witness this. I want to protect him from this, but I can't.

"Nothing is okay. It's my fault. I was driving…I…I didn't pay attention to the street, but…screamed at him. Oh God, Kirsten if…if he…"

"Shhh, don't even think of that. He's going to be okay." I soothe him. I feel how my top gets soggy. I never have seen him crying before and I never want to see it again. Seeing him cry is like every hope is gone.

"Dad, this wasn't your fault. It was an accident…just a stupid accident and this wasn't even your fault. If the other driver hadn't ran the red light this accident wouldn't have happened. Do you listen? This is not your fault. You couldn't have done anything to prevent this, despite stopping at a green light, but nobody does so, because it's stupid and green means you can drive. Nobody could have foreseen that the other driver will run this red light." My son starts to sooth him too. I smile at him. I'm glad having him with me, because I'm not able to speak so many words in a row right now.

"I…just shouldn't have gone after him." He says.

"Sure and then? Ryan would be gone and we would have nearly the same situation. Everybody blames himself for what had happened and nobody is helped with that." My son answers and he's right.

"Do you want to go home?" I ask him. He shakes his head.

"I…I can't go Kirsten. I have to stay here."

"Honey, the doctor said you need to go home and rest. I'll stay here and as soon as I know something about Ryan, I'll call you." I tell him.

"C'mon Dad, I get you home." My son says and takes his father's arm.

"Thanks." I reply. Then I go back and wait. It feels like an eternity. I'm nervous. The more hours pass the worse can be the news what's wrong with my son.

"Mrs. Cohen?" Another doctor comes to me. I get up.

"Yes?" I'm anxious and I can't hide it.

"I'm Dr. Brandon."

"Did you…treat my son?" I ask. He nods, grabs my arm gently and leads me to a quiet and empty room.

"Well, I don't want to beat around the bush. Your son suffered from several internal injuries. We had to remove his spleen. His right kidney also is very bad injured. We don't know if we can safe it." Oh God. My legs feel like jelly. They start to shake. The doctor leads me to a couch. I sit down.

"He lost a lot of blood due these injuries. We had to place him in an artificial coma, as he's not stable right now." The news gets worse and worse. I only want to take my son home with me.

"There's something else I have to tell you. He has some broken ribs, but they shouldn't make any trouble. We're more concerned about his leg. It is badly fractured at several places. As well as his thighbone as the bone of the lower leg is fractured. Is hip bone and his pelvis are fractured too. I'm glad to say that his pelvis isn't broken into pieces otherwise it could have done a lot of bad damaged to the arteries around. But this hadn't happened so we don't need to worry about that. But on the top of that his knee is dislocated due the rescue. We had been able to place it again in its origin position, but there's a lot of damaged done too." Oh. My. God.

"The force due the crash must have been that immense. I'm sorry."

"And…what…are you going to do about this?"

"Unfortunately we can't do anything about it yet. Your son isn't stable enough for this yet and I'd prefer an expert having a look at it. But we need to hurry if we want to achieve a complete recovery, especially regarding his knee. But we have to wait until he's stable enough for this kind of surgery."

"So you want to tell me that,… if he makes it, what isn't sure for now… he might lose the ability to use his leg." I can't think clear at the moment. I only feel the urge to take my son into my arms and take him home with me.

"In somehow yes. I'm sorry for this news, but I promise we do everything in our power to safe your son and I already called someone who could help with his leg. Please don't lose faith."

"Can…can I see him?" I'm close to tears. But I can't. Not now. I have to be strong, for my sons and for my husband. I have to get them through this and I will.

"Of course." The doctor leads me to the sterile quarters of the ICU. My heart is pounding in my chest, as if it wants to escape. At least that's what I feel: I want to escape. This one night had shaken my world of our perfect life. I witness how vulnerable our family is.

I enter the room. The silence is disturbed by annoying beeping and other mechanical noises. If I wasn't told that this limp form in this bed was my son, I would think it was someone else. I step closer to him and wince when I see his face. The right side is strewn with small and bigger cuts. It was nearly impossible to find some uninjured skin among them. I ignore the tube that had been inserted in his throat, as well as the fact that it means that he's even too weak to breathe on his own.

"Oh, sweetie." I whisper and gently strike over his cheek. He looks so fragile. It was a fact that he was. I knew it from the very beginning we took him in, but seeing it was worse than only suspecting it.

"You'll be okay, I promise." I tell him, hoping he feels that I'm there. I'm too afraid he might feel lonely and give up over that. I take his hand. It's cold. It uses to be warm, but not now. I stroke his cheek. It's cold too. I give him a kiss onto his forehead, hoping he feels in somehow how much he means to me – to us. I'm so afraid he might give up. He had been so awfully despaired and depressed. I can't predict whether he has the will to live anymore.

"Mrs. Cohen, I'm afraid but I have to ask you to leave now." What now? I only saw him for what feels like a lonely second. I don't want to leave him. I want to stay with him. He needs me. I need him. I can't leave now.

"Can't I stay, just five more minutes?" Why do I ask this man, whether I can stay with me son? I have a right to stay with him.

"Mrs. Cohen, you can't do anything in the moment. It's better when you go home and rest and take care of your husband. Your foster son will need both of you, when he wakes up." The doctor says. Foster son. Right this is what everybody says and reads. Nobody ever comes to the idea that it emotionally feels like he is my own son.

"Mrs. Cohen, please. It'll be better, even for him. He needs all rest he can get to get through this." Reluctantly I leave his hand. I give him a peck on his forehead, knowing well he wouldn't allow me so, if he was awake. But he isn't.

"I'll be back tomorrow." I tell him. It's stupid to talk to him. But it gives me a feeling of security and I need this. I'll have to bring this news to my husband and I'm afraid of how he'll react on this. He had been so broke about this.

"Mrs. Cohen?" The doctor asks me once again and I turn to the door. When I stand in the frame I look back once again. I have a strange feeling. It's like a strong bond is holding me. I'm afraid to leave. It feels like something awful will happen every second if I left. It's the usual maternal instinct that tells you, your son is hurt, although you're in the office and he's at school. But when you're at home you see that he had scratched his knee. I step out the door. A screaming noise makes me stop. I turn around. It's not Ryan, but those things surrounding him. I want to run back to him, but a nurse holds me back. The beeping had changed into a permanent scream and I don't know what this is supposed to mean. No, I don't want to allow its meaning only entering my mind.

"You can't go in there now." She says and rubs my upper arm. Within a second the room is flooded with white coats. Too many voices are screaming too many words I don't understand, but I only want to know what's happening to my son.

"What's…what's happening in there?" I ask the nurse.

"Sorry I don't know. I only know that your son is in very good care." Of course she says that. She has to say that. Anything else and I would move the earth only to get my son somewhere else. Things rush by and then Dr. Brandon comes back to me.

"I want to go to my son, now!" I scream. There was something wrong. He needs me.

"Mrs. Cohen, I'm sorry, but…" And then everything is one blur. He tells me detailed what had happened. What had caused…oh my baby. I don't even notice when they guide me to the waiting area to sit down. I don't even notice to sit down. My body is trembling. They call a taxi. I have to go home. They guide me to the taxi and help me to get into it. My legs feel like jelly and if I didn't sit, I would break down every second. Even when I sit I have the feeling of breaking down every second. How to tell my husband? How to tell my son? I have no clue. This is too much for me and I can't hold back my tears anymore. I know I have to be strong for them. But I can't. I can't handle this. Not this. I'll never be able to. I'm weak and helpless. I couldn't have done anything to prevent this. What kind of mother am I? I wasn't able to prevent this. How am I able to live with this? I haven't even notices how fragile he is. If I had, I'd done something, anything to…prevent this. I just ignored the fact that he isn't strong enough – that he is exhausted and way too tired. How am I able to live on with this thought? How am I able to live with the fact that a family is a fragile and vulnerable thing, breaking apart by the slightest vibration?

A/N.: END?