I decided to do this chapter after all, I'm not sure if it's as good as you all wanted but I tried. My knowledge on hospital protocol is very limited, especially the American one as I'm from England, so please bear with me.
Thank you for all the encouraging views, after some negative ones I was feeling a bit apprehensive about carrying on with this story but I think I will continue.
Please review and suggest any ideas. Thank you.
"Mind your language, Thomas" My Grandmother warns me across the table.
I sigh angrily, covering my face with my hands to try and calm down. I can feel the anger in me about to reach boiling point. As usual, it's down to my Dad. Why he feels the need to bring up issues he know will cause an argument at our family meal, I will never know.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore" I say trying to stay calm "You're really starting to piss me off"
"I'm not going to tell you to watch your language again, Thomas!" My Dad retorts with a raised voice. Sometimes I think he deliberately tries to make me angry.
I push my seat away from the table and stand up quickly. "I said I don't want to talk about it anymore!" I yell and storm out of the room.
"Thomas! Get your ass back here!" I hear my Dad shout but I carry on walking up the stairs until I feel him grab my arm. I try to tug it out of his grip but as I do I lose my footing and fall backwards. I see my Dad try to grab me but he can't in time and I smash down the stairs, I scream in pain when I feel my arm snap.
"Thomas!" My Dad shouts running down to me and kneeling next to me. I can feel the tears slipping out of my eyes when I look at my arm and see the bone is snapped. Oh God, it hurts like hell. I can feel blood pouring down my face and I cry.
"Get the fuck away from me!" I yell as the tears pour down my face. I stand up and move backwards. I try to protect my broken arm with my other one but it hurts so much I think I could pass out. I feel disorientated, I must have cut my head because I can taste blood sliding into my mouth.
My Mom, Uncle and Grandma run out and see me.
"What the hell did you do Christian?" My Mom yells at him but he doesn't reply, he just watches me in shock. I don't think I've ever seen him speechless.
My Grandma rushes over to me but I turn away. "Get away from me!" I yell in pain. I cringe inwardly at the way I just spoke to my Grandmother, she didn't deserve it. But, I don't want anyone near me. It hurts too much.
"Thomas, sweetheart calm down, I need to see if it's broken" She tells me calmly.
"Of course it's fucking broken!" I shout angrily, trying to scrub the tears away from my face. I just swore at her, now I really do hate myself. But my arm, oh god, it hurts.
My Dad steps towards me but stops about a metre away from me. He holds out his hands as a way of trying to calm me down. "I know your arm hurts, buddy. We need to get you checked out okay? Let me drive you to the hospital and we'll get it fixed." He says softly. I don't think I'd ever seen him this calm. He's talking to me as if I'm 5 but right now I don't care, I just want the pain to stop.
My Mom pushes past him and over to me, she wipes the tears away from my face but she has tears in her own eyes. "Oh baby, we need to get you fixed. I can drive you if you'd prefer, whatever you want sweetie" She promises soothingly. I know she thinks I don't want to go with my Dad but in a situation like this, I think I'd prefer him. He'll scare the doctors and they'll be quicker.
I step towards my Dad and I can feel the tears dripping down my face still. "Dad, can you drive me please?" He nods and picks me up bridal style, being careful not to touch my arm. He carries me to the car, and shuts the door. I hear him shout to everyone he'd be as quick as possible and then he's in the car and we're already driving.
"You're okay buddy, you're going to be fine" He tells me, occasionally glancing at me as he drives. I sit in the passenger seat leaning to the side. Tears are still dripping down my face and I want to scream. My arm hurts and my head stings.
"It hurts so much Dad" I whimper and he reaches out to rub my shoulder reassuringly.
"God, I'm sorry Thomas. I didn't mean for this to happen" His voice breaks and I look at him. He had tears in his eyes and I feel bad for him, he must feel guilty even though it wasn't his fault.
"Just please hurry up and get us to the hospital" I plead and he speeds up, despite him already being higher than the limit.
When we arrive at the hospital, my Dad picks me and carries me in. Normally, I would protest but I was in so much pain I couldn't be bothered.
"My son's broken his arm, and he's cut his head" He tells the receptionist and she calls a doctor over to us, who leads us into our own room. She was quite young, and pretty. It was a welcome distraction. My Dad places me down on the hospital bed and I sit up leaning my back against the pillows.
"Okay, first things first, what's your name sweetie?" She asks me with a smile as she pulls on some rubber gloves.
"Tommy" I reply through tears. God, I need to pull myself together. I look like a baby.
"Thomas Grey" My Dad corrects. "Can you please just stop his pain?" He asks louder this time, there was some anger in his voice but I think more than anything he was feeling guilty.
"Alright, Tommy. Let's have a look at your arm" She takes my arm into her hands and frowns sympathetically. "We're going to need to take you for an X-ray then we'll put a cast on it, alright?"
Before we go to the X-ray room, the doctor cleans my head up. Apparently it's not too serious just a cut. Even so, I flinch when she wipes the antibiotic cloth over it. She strokes my hair sympathetically and my Dad watches with pained eyes. Once she's done, she asks if I'm ready to get my arm sorted.
I nod and she turns to my Dad. "Mr Grey, will you be coming with us to the X-ray?" She asks him and he looks over at me, probably trying to figure out if I want him there.
"Please Dad" I say and he nods putting a supporting arm around my shoulders. We walk down the hall to the X-ray machine and I want to tell my Dad if I'm walking now I probably could've walked before but I don't.
The scan is done pretty quickly and before we know it she's already putting on one layer of the cast. She stokes my face when a tear drops out of my eye. "You know, you look just like your Dad" She tells me "And I have to say, he is one very handsome man" With a wink she turns to my Dad who smirks.
I know she's only joking to try and make me feel better but I can't help being slightly annoyed, everybody in the entire world seems to fancy my Dad.
Christian's POV
As I watch the doctor wrap Thomas' arm up in the blue cast, his colour choice, I am overcome with guilt. I did this to my son, I was the one who made him fall down the stairs. Why couldn't I have just left him to go upstairs and calm down?
I move closer to him and sit down on the bed next to him, placing an arm around his shoulders, but being careful not to get in the doctor's way as she wraps his arm. He looks up at me through tear stained eyes and gives me a small smile. I don't think he's in pain anymore, the doctor gave him some pills to stop it earlier and he seems better.
"How are you feeling, little man?" I ask, hoping the use of his old nickname might improve his mood. When he rolls his eyes I know it has.
"Better I see" I muse and he grins, it's not his normal cheeky grin but it's a still a beautiful, innocent grin.
Before either of us could say anything else, the doctor clears her throat and stands up with a smile.
"Right, we're all done here" She informs us and both Thomas and I look down at the cast. It reaches to just below his elbow.
"Thank you so much, you're very good at your job" I praise and offer my hand in gratitude, she just helped my son, and anyone who cares for my children earns my respect immediately. She shakes my hand on a small smile.
"And you're a very good Father" She comments and I smile, but I don't believe it for a second. I'm the reason we're here in the first place. "If you want to follow me to the reception desk, we can sort out insurance details"
I place an arm around my son's shoulders and lead him out of the room. Once I've sorted out all the insurance details and filled in the appropriate forms we're ready to go.
"Are you ready to go home?" I ask Thomas, looking down at him. He had been watching the doctors walking around, and it makes me wonder if he's considered being one when he grows up. I wouldn't be surprised he'd always loved listening to my Mother's hospital stories.
He pulls his gaze away from the doctors and up to me. "Can we go and get some ice-cream?" He asks, looking down at the floor, it's like he's embarrassed.
My eyes widen slightly at his question. A few years ago when Thomas had turned me down to go out and get ice cream for the first time it broke my heart, because I realised he was growing up and he wasn't my little boy anymore. So, the fact he wants to get ice cream with me makes me want to shout with happiness.
I grin widely. "Of course we can"
Once we're in the car and driving to our favourite ice-cream bar, where they do over 100 different flavours, everything seems better. The tension between us has simmered down, and the soft beat of Ed Sheeran coming from the stereo is calming.
So why do I still feel horrible?
Keeping my eyes on the road ahead, I clear my throat. "I'm sorry about your arm, and head Thomas. The fact I put you in pain is completely sickening to me. It kills me to see you hurt. I love you so much."
Out of the corner of my eye I see Thomas turn slightly and look at me with wide eyes, he places one of his small hands on my shirt clad arm. "Dad, it wasn't your fault. It was just an accident. I was being a jerk...but so were you" He adds that bit quietly with a smirk and I glance at him with a grin.
"We're more alike than you think, I know you don't believe that you're anything like me but you really are Thomas. Almost every day I see myself in you, even if it is when you're fuming and shouting" I reply lightly, earning myself a laugh from my son.