A lovely response to the last chapter - thank you so much. I'm so glad you all enjoyed jumping in with little Henry again. Children's perspectives are always so interesting to write. We're jumping back in again with Emily's daughter Tegan in this one. Fair warning for a bit of strong language in it.
Happy reading =)
"A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them." – Victor Hugo
I struggle to open my eyes even though my mind is screaming at me to do so. I feel every inch of body ache and my head continues to throb painfully. I let out an involuntary moan as I try to turn my head but find the pain is overwhelming and cease my efforts.
"Tee?" I hear a familiar voice mumble. My mind struggles to place the voice as I try and fight through the haze. I try to steady my breathing with deep breaths, but every inhale causes waves of pain to course through me. "Tegan!" the voice calls out again, this time a bit louder and more panicked.
I try to form words to respond but find myself unable to make my mouth move. Instead I realize another moan has escaped my lips as I force my eyes open and try to process my surroundings. My vision is spotty at first, but soon I realize there's pieces of glass and metal strewn about around me, and I can feel something tight across my chest. I close my eyes again as I try to piece together the fractured memories that are flashing in my mind. We were at the drive-in movie…we left after it finished…we suddenly saw bright headlights coming from another direction…and then everything is black.
"Tegan?" the voice calls out again, this time its tone is almost despondent.
My mind finally places it. "Matty?" I respond in a confused and slightly panicked tone as my eyes shoot open. I feel adrenaline begin to course through my veins and I'm hit with a burst of energy.
"Yeah," he breathes.
"You okay?" I ask, fearing the answer as my eyes take in the crushed frame of the car currently trapping us.
"Just…peachy," he says, a grunt of pain interrupting his answer. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," I say quickly, trying to alleviate his worry.
"Can you move?"
"I don't- Hang on," I reply as I test out my arms and legs. "Yeah," I confirm.
"Good, get your ass outta here then, Tee. I can smell gas, and I'm not liking our luck tonight." At his words I realize I can smell the gasoline too. I blink rapidly and try to calm the panic beginning to creep up.
"No way I'm leaving you, Matty, so drop it."
"Tee, I mean it, you should-"
"Should nothing. Shut it little bro."
"Oh come on, you're older by 43 minutes. That's nothing," he grouses. I can't help but smile at his ability to joke around despite the situation.
"Still 43 minutes worth of life experience," I shoot back while feeling around with my feet blindly for my cell phone. "Can you see my cell?" I finally ask.
"I think it's by your left foot," he says straining to see around the wreckage between us. I catch him gritting his teeth in pain at his movement and I immediately feel guilty.
"Okay, okay. Quit moving around, I got it," I say quickly, hoping he'll stop straining himself. I tug at my seatbelt and free myself. I test out my arms and legs once more and begin to reach down to grab my cell when I hear a car start up. I look up and see a car beginning to turn around and drive away. "That bastard's leaving," I hiss as I see the banged up front-end and realize it's the car that hit us. "Matty, remember this plate," I say as I rattle off the numbers and letters, and my best guess as a make and model of the car.
"Write it down," he says with a wince. "Not sure I can remember it for that long," he says wearily.
"Yeah, okay," I say looking around for a pen or writing utensil of any kind. I finally settle on grabbing a piece of jagged metal and carving it into a piece of relatively intact dashboard. With that information safely recorded I set about trying to reach my cell again. Once in my hands I groan at the cracked screen but sigh in relief as it still responds to my touch and connects my 911 call. I faintly hear the operator begin to talk to me, but my focus is on Matty as he slips unconscious and I too begin to feel faint. I feel the phone drop from my hand as my head lolls forward and the world goes black.
I'm fairly certain that I'm drifting in and out of consciousness because what my eyes are seeing and what I can remember aren't connecting in ways that make any logical sense. The quiet darkness that I seem to keep slipping into is punctuated by overwhelmingly bright lights and loud noises. I can intermittently make out blurry figures overtop of me, and near constant beeping and chatter. But the words don't form any coherent sentences, and the figures never sharpen. Eventually, after being moved around quite a bit, I've come to rest in one spot. Granted, the room is still spinning, but I'm fairly certain I'm stationary.
The noise has disappeared almost completely, and the near constant movement of figures around me has also disappeared. I don't open my eyes but I can sense the bright lights are still there. I can hear something from the hallway, and though I know it is words being spoken, the sounds aren't linking together to form any meaningful message.
"I WANT TO SEE MY DAUGHTER!"
"Ma'am, we're still running some-"
"I don't care what you're doing, I want to see her!"
"I understand that this is a lot to digest, but you need to give us some time to-"
"To what? You've run your tests on her, so why can't I see her?"
"We're still waiting for some results, and have a few more to-"
"My son is in surgery, and I grudgingly accept that I can't see him. But my daughter is on the other side of that wall and you're keeping me from her FOR NO GODDAMN REASON. Now, unless you can actually give me a legitimate reason I can't be in the same room as her, I'm going in there."
It seems like a noise of some kind is getting louder, almost as though something is approaching me, but before I can even try to place it, I feel the darkness pull me back under and I disappear again.
"WILL ONE OF YOU PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!"
"Ma'am, we're still piecing together the eviden-"
"Bullshit. Don't lie to me. I read human behaviour for a living, so don't you dare tell me that you're "still piecing together the evidence" because I know it's a pile of shit. You know exactly what happened."
"We still need to collect statements so-"
The voices drift away as I sink into the blackness again.
The haze begins to lift somewhat and I hear voices echo around the corner, or at least I think it's from around the corner…
"We suspect the other driver was driving under the influence."
"What makes you say that?"
"We recovered pieces of several bottles of alcohol at the scene, and the preliminary reports from the doctors confirm that neither of your children had alcohol in their systems."
"So you don't have him in custody…"
The voices fade once more and I feel the now familiar blackness descending upon me.
"Tee," I hear a familiar voice say softly. It sounds so very far away and yet I somehow know whoever it belongs to is right next to me. "Come on sweetheart, open your eyes."
I try desperately to fight the heaviness of my eyes and open them as the familiar voice requests, but I find it to be an incredibly difficult task. What the hell? Why can't I open my eyes? It's such a simple thing to do. What's wrong with me? I begin to panic when an overwhelming feeling of helplessness takes over my mind. My breaths grow quick and shallow, and my heart begins to race as the panic begins to grow.
Then I feel a hand gently stroke my cheek and I'm reminded of moments spent in my bed as a child fighting off a flu or a cold. Mom's touch had always been so comforting. Mom. Suddenly I know who the voice belongs to, and I redouble my efforts to open my eyes. Her hand's movements continue to soothe me, and I feel my heart rate return to normal and my breathing even out.
"Come on, Tegan," she says, whispering the plea in my ear. "Open up those beautiful eyes of yours. I need to see them. Please, Tegan, just…just open your eyes for me. Please," she finishes, her voice beginning to sound slightly desperate.
Finally I feel my eyes begin to flutter open but they slam shut instinctively when assaulted with the harsh, bright lights. I wince at the brightness and I sense Mom lean over top of me, blocking most of the light.
"It's okay, Tee. Open them up now."
I crack my eyes open slowly and wait for my vision to focus. It takes a moment, but finally Mom's face comes into focus and I see her smile in relief.
"Hey there," she says softly, her hand gently brushing some hair from my eyes.
I blink slowly and take in the features of her face. Her eyes are red and puffy – she's been crying. I blink again and try to remember the last time I'd seen her cry. I think it was when Grandma was in the hospital after her heart attack.
"Welcome back." She looks exhausted. How long was I out? Keeping my eyes open is proving to be a tiring task and they flutter shut once more. I force them open again and find Mom's worried expression still focused on me.
Suddenly images of Matty stream through my mind and I feel that panic begin rise again. "Matty," I croak, trying to communicate my worry. I need to know he's okay. I shift around and try to push myself up into a sitting position.
"No, don't get up, Tee. You've got a couple broken ribs," Mom says, guiding me gently back down onto the bed. My eyes close again against my will as my head hits the pillow and I feel sleep begin to take hold as my exhaustion gets the better of me.
"Matty," I say insistently, my face turning to a frown though my eyes remain closed. I muster as much strength as I have and open my eyes once more, holding her gaze. She seems to sense my determination and gives up her previous efforts at holding back information.
"He's in surgery," she explains. "Has been for a couple hours. They haven't been able to tell me anything yet, but they know I'm here and promised to keep me updated."
My mouth refuses to do what my mind is telling it to, and so the words won't form. I feel sleep begin to take a stronger hold on me and so I only manage to mumble a "sorry" before I slip into that blissfully pain-free darkness once more.
"Emily!" I hear Dad's voice call out from the hallway. He sounds almost breathless, as though he's been running. Wait. Dad? When did he get here? Wasn't he on a case in….Seattle maybe? Or was it Portland? "Emily!" I hear him repeat. He sounds scared.
"Derek," I hear Mom whisper. I manage to open my eyes a sliver and I see her throw herself into his arms and grip him tightly.
"What happened?" he asks as he pulls back slightly. My eyes grow tired again and they fall shut, but I keep listening.
"Drunk driver hit them," I hear Mom reply. Her voice is quiet and a bit shaky, a stark contrast to the usually firm and confident tone she uses.
"Fuck. Is he in custody?" Dad asks in a low and very dangerous sounding tone, one which I've only heard on a handful of occasions.
"No, he took off."
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me. COME ON. The police can't find a car smashed halfway to hell?"
"They've got officers at all his addresses and they sent out a BOLO on his car."
"They- What? How?"
"Our daughter carved the make, model and plate of the car that hit them into the dashboard before calling 911 and then passing out." Good. I'd wondered if anyone would be able to make sense of those random carvings.
"She- Oh god. Is she okay? What about Matty? How are they? Are they okay?"
"M'okay, Daddy," I slur as I struggle to open my eyes and sit up. I wince when waves of pain begin to course through my body. I inhale sharply at the pain, but am only rewarded with more intense pain. I begin to wonder why breathing is causing so much pain before I vaguely recall Mom mentioning something about broken ribs.
"Hey now, baby girl, lay that pretty little head of yours back down," Dad says softly, helping me relax back into the pillow. His touch is comforting. "You just get some rest, okay?"
"Not tired," I mumble as my eyes close, betraying my words.
I hear him chuckle lightly. "Stubborn, just like your mama. You just rest your eyes for a little while then."
"M'kay," I say as I begin to drift away.
"That's it," he coaxes. "Just relax, Tee."
"We'll be here when you wake up," Mom adds, giving my hand a squeeze. I give a small squeeze in reply before escaping into the darkness again.
When I wake up again, the light is less harsh on my eyes and I realize I'm sitting more upright than before. I hear Mom talking quietly on a phone with someone. I strain my ears to try and pick up the other side of the conversation, but it's too quiet to hear.
"She's been in and out over the last couple hours," Mom says before pausing and listening to whatever the other person is saying. "Derek's speaking with the doctors now, but as far as they can tell he's going to be okay. It was pretty nasty though. He's got quite a few internal injuries and his knee is pretty mangled apparently."
I wince as I realize the extent of my brother's injuries. His side of the car had taken the majority of the initial impact, and clearly his injuries reflect that.
"They say they're not sure, but their body language is screaming that they're not optimistic he'll be able to play any sports," she says, wrapping her free arm around herself.
Shit. Matty is an athlete. It's a huge part of who he is. What the hell is this going to do to him? How's he going to handle not being able to play sports and go running for hours on end?
"I know, and I am so thankful he's alive and will be able to walk, but…sports are everything to him. This is going to crush him and I don't know how to make it better."
I feel tears slip down my cheeks as I realize what my selfishness has led to. I was the one who couldn't get over a stupid guy. I was the one who had been in so much of a funk that he'd felt the need to suggest going to see a movie at the drive-in. I was the reason we were there in the first place. I was the reason he was never going play sports again. A small whimper escapes my lips as emotion begins to overwhelm me. I fight the inevitable breakdown as long as I can, but eventually, and all too quickly, I'm sobbing. I'm aware of the sharp pain around my chest, but I ignore it. It's all my fault.
"I gotta go, Jayje," Mom says quickly, her eyes locking onto me the moment the first whimper escaped me. "I'll text you if I get any updates."
She crosses the room in mere seconds and begins gently wiping away my tears. "Hey, come on now. What is it, Tee?"
I frantically grab at her, seeking comfort and something to ground me as I feel my emotions overflow. "I'm sorry," I cry into her shirt. "I'm so sorry."
"What are you sorry for?" she asks softly, confusion in her tone. I feel her hand rubbing my shoulder soothingly.
"It's my fault," I manage to gasp out between sobs.
"What do you mean?" she asks. I can hear the puzzled expression in her tone.
"It's my fault we were there. Matty offered to take me to cheer me up and help me get over Jason. If I wasn't so self-absorbed we wouldn't have been there and we wouldn't have gotten hit and Matty would be able to keep playing sports."
"Oh Tegan," she says sadly, settling in beside me on the bed and pulling me close. "It isn't your fault. It's that driver's fault for making a very stupid decision. Do you hear me?"
"But I-"
"No, it isn't your fault. None of it. Do you hear me?" she repeats forcefully, pulling me closer and hugging me tightly.
I nod reluctantly. "Yeah."
"You were so brave, and you kept a level head – making that phone call and getting the plate. You did good, Tee." My only response is intermittent sniffling. "And we don't know that he won't be able to play again," she adds thoughtfully after a moment.
"But you said-"
"Am I a doctor?" she interrupts.
"No, but-"
"Then I'm certainly not qualified to be making those assessments, so let's wait for the experts to tell us what he will and will not be able to do, okay?"
I exhale heavily and feel another wave of pain. "Ugh," I grunt in pain.
Mom immediately releases her hold on me and jumps off the bed. "Oh god, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"
"No," I say, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking my head. I look up at her pathetically, my eyes asking her silently to hold me again. She looks reluctant, probably worried that she'll cause me more pain. "Please," I whisper, more tears springing to my eyes. "Please, Mom."
Her reluctance melts away at my words – or maybe my tears – and she climbs onto the bed once more and lets me curl up beside her, wrapping her arms around me. I'm reminded of the countless times we've shared a moment like this – her comforting arms surrounding me, calming and reassuring me – and just how much I love her.
"Shh. It's okay, it's okay," she murmurs. My only response is to curl into her tighter and grip her shirt just as I'd done as a child. Slowly I begin to drift into sleep again, thanks to her soothing words and comforting embrace. While I'm still worried about Matty, and feel incredibly guilty over it all, I can't help but feel a slight bit of relief. Mom's always been able to bring that level of comfort and be a calming influence on me. And so, despite the uncertainty of our situation, curled up in her arms I feel safe and secure, and perhaps even a little bit relieved. Maybe things could be okay after all. Maybe things would be okay.
So...how did you all enjoy this one? Do let me know - I love reading your thoughts. Many more conversations to come - I've been working hard.