Chapter 2: Ready to Lose
"The expected is what keeps us steady. It's the unexpected that changes our lives forever."
~Alex Karev
If there is one thing that Alex hates more than his father, it's moments that leave him without control. In his personal opinion, there is absolutely nothing worse than losing control over a situation.
He doesn't need power. He isn't likes his Pop in that sense. He doesn't want to force others to follow his decisions. What he does need, however, is the ability to manage the decisions that impact him.
When his father gets angry, Alex takes control of the situation by directing the man's attention towards him. It's far better that the man release his anger on someone able to handle the aftermath.
His mother has been lost to her disease for years. His sister is far too little to physically manage. And his brother? Well, Aaron's time will come soon enough. There's only so much that Alex can do to protect his family and it's only a matter of time before his father notices that his second son is as capable of challenging him as his first. Alex isn't sure what he'll do when that day come, but he tries not to dwell on it too much.
At this particular moment in time, he is very much out of control. Stuck in a bed in a Circus themed hospital room, it's all he can do to gather what little sense of sanity he has left.
He'd woken up nearly 6 hours ago to an unfamiliar room with no family members in sight. As if that weren't bad enough, no one would tell him where they were. The doctors came in and asked how he was feeling, doing careful examinations and asking about his family's medical history. Was Schizophrenia something that ran in his family? What about addiction? Could he remember the last time his mother had been evaluated by a psychiatrist?
The police came in and asked him about his living situation. Who put dinner on the table? Who tucked he and his siblings in at night? He had scoffed at this question, at nearly fifteen years old, he didn't need to be "tucked in" by anyone. He'd answered everything as vaguely as possible, but the last question was unavoidable.
"Alex, did you father do this to you?"
He was lying in a bed in a Circus themed hospital room with a fractured femur and a dislocated shoulder. There was a tube in his chest because when his dick of a dad decided to kick him, he broke two ribs and his lung collapsed. They asked this question even though the doctors had a list that included every major injury and trip to the emergency room he and his siblings had made in the past three years. Even though the police knew exactly how many domestic dispute calls had been made about his house. It didn't take much to put two and two together, but they wanted answers from him.
"Well I didn't fucking do it to myself, now did I?"
After his brief confirmation, he'd been left alone with nothing but the bug-eyed clowns on the wallpaper to keep him company. He cringes each time he makes eye contact with one of them but he can't avoid looking at them. They're everywhere.
His fear of clowns isn't exactly something he's proud of, but it helps to take his mind off of his current situation. The last time he'd seen his family, his father was being escorted into the back of a police car. His mother was lost in a sea of paramedics and Amber and Aaron were being guided out of the house by a social worker.
It had taken a little ease dropping in the direction of the nursing station outside of his room, but eventually he figured out that it had been three days since the incident.
It's been three days since he's seen a single member of his family, and nobody seems to know exactly where any of them are. He's almost positive that Amber and Aaron are probably floating around in some group home or another, given that his mom is about as stable as a rocking chair, but that still doesn't change the fact that nothing has been confirmed. Everything is out of his control until he can get some answers, and the only way that's going to happen, was if a social worker was brought in.
The hours seem to drag on forever, but that's probably due to the fact that there was absolutely nothing for him to do. There's nothing on television and the only books in the pediatric wing of the hospital are for children ages 4+.
He's about halfway through eating a dinner of lukewarm Chicken Broth and Jell-O when a woman in a navy-blue suit entered his hospital room. Originally, he thought she was a nurse, and he'd been ready to complain about the lack of solid foods in his diet, but one look at the woman makes it clear that she's not about to check an IV or bring him something of more substance to eat.
"Alexander Karev?" The woman questions with a quirked eyebrow. His eyes widen as she enters the room. Though she's smaller in stature, she definitely demands his attention.
"My name is Miranda Bailey and I'm your case worker. May I take a seat? I'm sure you have some questions for me."