Everything was wrong. There was no way that this was real. But, no matter how many times Faramir pinched his arm, no matter how many times he splashed cold water in his face, and no matter how many times he hit his head off of the wall it was still not a dream. He didn't understand how this could have happened. He didn't understand why. Wasn't losing a mother enough?

He stared aimlessly at the paintings in the hospital waiting room. Something about him recalled that they were there in an effort to calm the patients and their family members, but Faramir saw nothing appealing about them. How could paint smeared on a canvas make him feel any better? It was all meaningless in the grand scheme of things. He didn't care about the hours that some person had poured into that piece of work, all he cared about was the fact that Boromir had had to go into surgery yet again.

His brother was still alive, yes, but that didn't mean he was going to stay as so.

Faramir had gotten the phone call from Pippin, moments after the accident had happened. Faramir had rushed there to see Boromir, unconscious and bleeding, being carried into an ambulance. He had managed to convince the workers that he was related to Boromir, and had forced himself on the ambulance with him.

All Faramir could think about, however, throughout the entire ride to the hospital, was that he had been with Boromir a mere hour ago. His brother had laughed with him, teased him, and had spoken his concerns with him. Faramir bet that Boromir never thought that he would be the one to be hurt instead of the younger of the two of them.

The worst thing was listening to the emergency workers in the ambulance with him. They kept on saying things that didn't make sense. Boromir was in severe condition; Boromir's lungs had been punctured by three of his ribs; Boromir was currently suffocating in his own blood; Boromir was going to die soon.

As soon as they reached the hospital, Boromir was whisked away into immediate surgery, and Faramir was left standing in the hospital waiting room. He had sat down and ignored the nurse's attempt to communicate with him for the most part. It was only when they were asking Faramir questions about Boromir's previous medical injuries when the English major spoke.

Boromir had broken his left arm before and his nose. Boromir was no allergic to any medicine, but he was allergic to strawberries. Boromir had no heart disorders, or prior lung disorders. Boromir was no diabetic. Boromir did not have any genetic disorders. Boromir was hale and healthy... or he had been.

Once they were finished asking the questions, they asked Faramir if they should call anybody. It was then when Faramir remembered that his father would have liked to know that Boromir was now in life-threatening condition. Faramir had called him, and got no answer.

That had all been five hours ago, and Faramir had not yet heard from anybody. The only thing that he had heard was that Boromir had thought to have been in stable condition, and then suddenly had changed and had to go back into surgery.

He felt cold despite the fact that the hospital was quite warm. It was like his warmth had left him; like all of his blood had sunk down into his legs and was refusing to move. He couldn't move either; like he had been shocked stiff. He had only felt this way once before, and that had been fifteen years ago, when his mother had died. He had been five then, but he still remembered these feelings like it was yesterday.

He had made no effort to contact anybody apart from his father, who he didn't seem to be able to reach. Perhaps his father had left his phone in the car; it happened often. Denethor had a horrible memory when it came to leaving things around the house. Perhaps it was better for his father not to know until Boromir was either in stable condition or…. Faramir couldn't bring himself to think of the alternative, because it could never happen.

It had been an hour since Boromir was brought to the operation table when Faramir felt a tap on his shoulder. He slowly looked up to see Eowyn, standing there with a large boquet of flowers. She gave him a sad smile, before she said, "I know Boromir probably won't like flowers… but to brighten up his room… and…"

She sounded like she had been crying, her voice hoarse and weak. Faramir could see that there were tear marks down her face. Faramir understood why; before the two of them had started dating, Boromir and Eomer had been best friends, and in extension, Boromir and Eowyn had been good friends.

Faramir forced himself to smile, the motion feeling dull and meaningless on his face, as he extended an arm. Eowyn sat down on the chair next to him, and leaned into Faramir's shoulder. She smelled nice; like the flowers in her arms and the chocolate hand cream she used.

"I'm sure he'll love the flowers," Faramir told her, his voice cracking slightly. "I guess we're not going to see the movie tonight…" he said, in an effort to remain light hearted. Faramir could tell that Eowyn could see through him, but she gave a small laugh anyways.

"I guess not," Eowyn replied, before she gave a small sigh, "He's going to be okay, Faramir… he's a fighter… there's no way he'd leave like this."

Faramir nodded, "He's going to come out of surgery and then tell me that it would have to take two cars to kill him…"

Faramir felt tears dribble down his cheeks, but he didn't care. There was no way that anybody would call him a wimp after what had happened to Boromir. He had tried not to cry before; he had tried to seem strong, but he realized that it was all pointless. His older brother, the only person who had actually been there for him for his entire life, could now be torn away.

"He'd probably tell you that he's had worse…" Eowyn croaked, and Faramir then knew that she was crying as well.

Faramir thought to the conversation that he had Boromir had had last before the accident. He couldn't help but think of when Boromir had said "You can't sneak into my bed if you get nightmares." He wondered if Boromir would let him sneak into his bed after this was all over; to nuzzle up next to his brother's side and just know that Boromir was there for him.

Faramir and Eowyn sat there, not speaking, for quite a long time. They sat there, watching as the flowers drooped from being smothered by the two of them and waited. Finally, a doctor came up, and said, " Is there a Faramir Stewart here?"

The English major shifted Eowyn off of his chest and then stood up, "That is me."

"I need to speak to you about your brother," the doctor said. Faramir felt numb. Oh no… this is it… he's going to tell me… "Your brother is in stable condition."

Faramir exhaled loudly, a sense of relief flooding in his chest. He wanted to thank the doctor profusely but a question arose, "Were there any complications in the surgery?"
"None at all. There were just a lot of bone fragment in his lungs," the doctor explained, and Faramir nodded. "Mr. Stewart is going to have a long recovery time, however, due to the damage done, and when he is released, he is going to have to make frequent visits to the hospital for therapy. Other than that, he should recover very well."

If relief was a physical thing to Faramir, it would have been like a train had hit him. Boromir was going to be okay. Boromir was not going to be dead. Sure, Boromir was going to be bedridden, and a considerably large amount weaker, but he was still going to be alive.

"May I see him?" Faramir asked. The doctor gave him a nod, and then began to lead Faramir to Boromir's room.

Though Boromir was alive, he was certainly not well. There were many cords leading into Boromir's arms; some with blood, some with water, and probably some with some pain medication. It looked as though there was a machine helping Boromir breathe, as well as a mask that probably fed Boromir pure oxygen.

Eowyn set up the flowers by the curtained window, as Faramir sat down next to Boromir and grasped his hand. Though Boromir did not respond to Faramir's touch, it still made the younger brother feel much better to be able to have physical contact with Boromir.

Faramir did not know how long he had been sitting there when the door swung open again. Faramir looked up to see his father. It took all of Faramir's restraint to not start yelling at him, to not ask him why it took so long for him to get here. That all changed, when his father walked over to Faramir and wrapped his arms around him.

"Dad?" Faramir asked, tentatively hugging the man back. Faramir had never gotten this kind of affection from his father. Boromir had been the only one to do that. Faramir patted his father lightly on the back, "He's going to be fine, Dad…"

When Denethor pulled away, Faramir could see that he had been crying. Faramir felt extremely uncomfortable; he didn't know how to deal with his father. For most of his childhood, Denethor had been withdrawn due to the depression he had not tried to cure. Now that Faramir was an adult, the bonding years the two of them were supposed to have had been filled with neglect. Boromir was better suited to deal with their father, because he had had more time to deal with him before their mother's death.

What Denethor said next, however, changed Faramir's perspective on everything. "I can't lose you… now that your brother is like this… I can't lose the both of you…"

Faramir gave him father a small smile, and then a small hug, "Boromir's not going anywhere, Dad… and neither am I."

Thanks to Concha G, tommyginger, lotrharrypotter3, Revolutionary Star, BoricuaPinkRanger, LoTR-HP-PJ, BrightWatcher, MoonLight1300, Wanderingidealism, NTSFroes, ZeDancingHobbit, Daeril Ullothwen, SilverMoonrise, Hope'sFace, Dinogeek, Polka-dot Pippin, Guest, Yeeyee, NessaTiwele, and phantombuggo for reviewing!

Thanks to ccandy, SonofApollo42, Dinogeek, BrightWatcher, sylvilia, and Hope'sface for favouriting/subscribing.

Your reviews freaking out about Boromir were absolutely wonderful. A lot of you guys were really close with my age... I'm 16.

Thanks for reading, and please review!