Music tip:
Jess Glynne – Take Me Home

Lovers of Freedom

Chapter 25:
Pain

It was hard to breathe.

He was barely holding himself up, but thanks to Quentin he took step after step out of the car and towards the large doors. Inside they didn't meet many people, since it was late at night. Somewhere in the back of his mind he seemed to remember the sun slowly glancing over the horizon as they drove into the city they were in now, but then another part shut the thought down and confronted Jerome with what he still was unable to comprehend.

Mitch had been in a car accident.

Nearly too fatal for the doctors to save him.
Nearly deadly.

His knees buckled under his weight and Quentin sat him down in a seat. It was too silent, no one way saying a word- or was he just unable to simply listen, to face reality and the fact that his best friend, his brother was probably fighting for his life right now?
A strangled gasp tried to escape his throat and he desperately wanted to hold it back, but someone else had noticed and sat down by his side to put a comforting hand onto his shoulder.

And then, for the first time since they had received the call from Mitch's distraught parents, Jerome raised his throaty voice.
"How?"

To his right Ty flinched and at first Jerome didn't know why. Then he saw his own clenched fists, heard the icy tone in his shaking voice and felt the pressuring feeling deep inside of him.
He was seething. No one dared to answer.

"How the fuck did this happen-"
And suddenly he was jumping up from his seat screaming and breaking free from Ian's iron grip and his unsuccessful try to calm him down.
"How could this possibly have happened, when you were the one to reassure us that he would be fucking safe there, Adam?!"

His face was as white as a sheet, but Jerome couldn't care less, because for all those stupid romantic feelings were worth, they nearly got his best friend killed!
"You fucking love him," he growled and grabbed Adam's shirt, but neither he himself, nor the other's moved a muscle to stop him. "You are supposed to take care of him, not getting him killed with your stupid idea to separate yourself from him, because you still think it's wrong to love him! So stop being so incredibly thick, you idiot, or I'll make sure you're never going to touch him ever again, if he'll survive this mess!"

"You got it all wrong," Adam whispered and then… smiled. It was broken and barely visible, but a smile nonetheless that made Jerome blink confused at the older male. "I can't deny my feelings for him. Not since me kissing him makes him happy, not since I'm able to make him forget what that asshole did to him, not since holding him in my arms feels like the safest place on earth for him, because right there Murphy is never going to be able to touch him. Ever. So please stop crying, Jerome."

A sob escaped his throat, as he mumbled an unintelligible apology and tried to brush the wet streaks on his face he hadn't even noticed before away with his sleeves, but Adam was faster than him and pulled him into his own trembling arms.
"Just shut up," he mumbled and his thick voice betrayed him of his emotions. He was struggling as well, of course he was, and so Jerome returned the desperate hug with as much force as possible without crushing his friend completely.
"It's gonna be alright," Jerome whispered into the silence of the waiting room in the hospital, more to comfort himself though than anybody else of his troubled friends. "Mitch will survive this."

"We just spoke to his doctor. He actually will."
Another voice interrupted the heavy silence in between the friends and flinching himself this time Jerome let go of Adam to look towards the door of the waiting room. Mr. and Mrs. Hughes were standing in the doorway with red eyes, but – more importantly – tired smiles on their pale faces. Tired, but smiles nonetheless. Combined with Mr. Hughes' words it was the best sign they could have hoped for.
"Oh thank god," Ian exclaimed and bend over with his hands on his knees to let go of the overwhelming tension in his muscles, while Jason and Ty embraced each other with a tearful laugh and Quentin fell back into his seat to cover his face with his shaking hands.

And for the first time in forever Jerome actually saw Adam cry in front of him and everyone else without a care in the world. Wordlessly he pulled him back into an embrace and thanked every god out there for taking care of his best friend, whether they existed or not.
Mitch was going to be alright. He would be alive, breathing, laughing and loving, Jerome would be able to talk to him about the problems of the world and the most random things he could come up with, because Mitch was alive –

"What did the doctor say?"
Ian was the first to recover and took an audible breath, before he concentrated on the most important thing right now. Mitch would survive- but how bad were his injuries?
Jerome tensed and risked a glance towards Mitch's parents, who sat down near the group with cups of coffee in their hands. Mitch's father sighed and Mitch's mother grabbed his hand in comfort, before he began with a defeated and exhausted voice.

"Apparently he didn't have his seatbelt on," he began slowly and refused to return the shocked looks on the faces of Jerome and the others. "But he has been incredibly lucky. Broken ribs. Sprained ankle. Concussion. They had to operate him obviously and they don't know how badly his brain was damaged, when he hit the steering wheel head-on, but- but his doctor is confident."
He nodded to emphasize his last words and to reassure himself. Jerome began to breathe again and clutched Adam's arm to keep himself up. Everyone understood the real meaning behind the sugar-coated words of Mitch's father. Under the given circumstances the possibility was high that the Mitch they knew and loved was gone forever.
He felt sick to his stomach and took several deep breaths to calm himself down somehow. The doctor was confident. It had to mean something, right?

"Why- What exactly happened?" Adam asked with a voice that was barely audible even in the oppressing silence of the waiting room.

"No traffic. No rain. No signs of another obstacle that would have been the cause for the accident."
No. Jerome stared with wide eyes towards Adam, who was reacting the same as him. Please no.

"He had no seatbelt on. Drove straight into the tree line. You tell me, Mr. Dahlberg."
Slowly Jerome turned around and let go of Adam, who was standing still as if he had been paralyzed. He wouldn't dare, would he?

"The police examined the scene thoroughly and came to the same conclusion you just did. I'm sorry, but Mitchell tri–"

Murphy wasn't able to finish his sentence, as Jerome rushed forward and smashed his balled fist into his face with as much force as possible.
"Shut up!" he screamed and threw another punch at the shocked man in front of him, before someone grabbed him from behind. "Don't you dare say his name ever again!" His voice was shaking horribly and on the verge of breaking, torn between pure rage, disbelief and despair. "Calm down, Jerome! What are you doing?" the person holding him tightly said with a surprise that Jerome couldn't understand. They all knew since the call that Murphy was responsible for Mitch's accident, so why were they holding him back now from unleashing all the pain Murphy deserved upon him?
Ready to snap at whoever tried to restrain him he turned his head – and stared right into the bewildered face of Mitch's dad. He was way too calm. Didn't Mitch tell them what Murphy had done to him like he had planned to?

But this time Jerome wasn't the only one, who gave way to the roaring feelings inside of him. Ian stepped up beside him with barely concealed fury in his eyes.
"How do you even dare showing up here?!"

"I'm only concerned about -" Murphy tried to save the situation and carefully touched his bruised jaw, when Jason appeared by Ian's side and cut him off. "Oh cut the crap! We know everything you did to Mitch – you are going down, even if it's the last thing we'll do!"
"Let me tell you the same thing I told your little friend, Mr. Probst," Murphy began once again and took a threatening step forward towards Jason. It was the first time the group saw him like that. His usual smile and the patient expression in his eyes were replaced by what Mitch had always described him as. Something to fear.

"What did he do to Mitch?"
Silence. No one was willing to tell Mr. Hughes what Murphy had done.
Because where was Jerome supposed to start?

The blackmailing?
The threats
The danger for Mitch's family?
The violence?
The bruises?
The tears?

"I know we did a horrible mistake, when he showed up at our house out of nowhere and we accused him of finally giving in to the pressure and the fame, because we had no clue how he had been during the past months. That obviously isn't the case," Mr. Hughes began with a voice too quiet and calm to be of any good for the person he was currently staring at.

"So tell me…"
He let go of Jerome and moved to stand in front of the group like a shield.
"What have you done to my son?"

The poisonous tone in his voice, something Jerome wasn't used to at all regarding the kind and generous man, silenced Murphy for several seconds, who returned the hard stare with an unreadable expression.
A comforting hand appeared on Jerome's shoulder and as he glanced back he saw Mitch's mother with a gleam in her eyes that was thankfully only directed at Murphy himself, who slowly took a step backwards. He was an invincible opponent for Team Crafted, but faced with parents who were willing to do everything for their child's sake Murphy was at a loss for words. Not a second did Jerome feel sorry for him though.

"It was never supposed to end like this," he began soothingly and raised his hands, but his voice betrayed him of what he really thought about the incident. Mitch was one of many to fall under his reckless path towards the top of whatever goal he wanted to achieve in the end. "You sick bastard!"
Before one of them was able to lunge at him again, his phone rang and tore the thick tension in the room apart.

"Excuse me," he said with a pleased smile and turned around to flee from their grasps, while a young doctor obliviously entered the waiting room with a more honest smile on his face than Jerome ever had seen on Murphy's.
"Mr. and Mrs. Hughes? You can see Mitchell now."

In complete silence the friends followed Mitch's parents to their son's room and gave them a moment alone, while they waited in the hallway and finally gave way to the build-up tension. "What the fuck was that?" Quentin murmured and leaned against the wall with a loud sigh. Ty shook his head and sat down on one of the plastic chairs beside Mitch's door, before he replied, "We have to tell them what happened."
"Obviously," Adam agreed and talked for the first time, since Murphy had appeared all of a sudden in the hospital. Quickly Jerome glanced up to study the pale face of his friend, but was surprised to find him looking straight back at him. With a sigh similar to Quentin's he continued, "Mitch didn't tell them about Murphy at all. It was part of the reason why we sent him over there in the first place."

"He wanted to, but it's no surprise that he closed up the second he heard what his parents were actually thinking about his behavior," Jerome replied with a lowered voice and threw a glance over his shoulder towards the closed door.
"You should have told us sooner," Ian whispered and stared at the door as well. "You know I couldn't," Jerome defended himself, even though he knew the other one didn't mean it as an accusation. "We could have prevented it. We should have." A heavy sigh escaped his throat and with suspiciously wet eyes Ian turned around to compose himself.

No one was ready for the moment Mrs. Hughes opened the door and asked them in.

This time none of their little group was able to hold back the tears, as they saw Mitch lying on the bed near the window. The color of his face was competing with the white sheets he was softly covered with. The beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound disrupting the horrible silence, as Jerome and the others took in the sight of their once cheerful friend.
A white bandage covered parts of his head and a tube helped him to breathe properly. And then there were the purple bruises covering not only his face, but his arms as well. Murphy's doing.

"We think it's time…" Jerome began without looking away once from Mitch's broken body and unable to hide the tears streaming down his face once again.
"It's time you finally learn the truth about what Mitch has done for us all this time."