He'd gotten his phone from Sally before she left and had asked her to get a cab back to the hotel, or to find someone that had gotten at least some sleep and wasn't so mentally exhausted to get her there. He didn't want her driving right now.

He himself had gotten little sleep, the doctors had wanted him to have time to eat and sleep some before the procedure would be done on his leg. He knew he was in for a few months of physical therapy at the least, but what frustrated him more than that hurdle was that no one would explain this thing to him in terms he could understand. All he knew was they were taking something from somewhere in his leg and replacing the torn ACL band in the knee. He just wanted a simple explanation.

He wished Doc was there to interpret.

He wished Doc was there for a lot of reasons.

With a sigh he flipped through the few channels, staring up at the television mounted on the wall until he came across some morning talk show where he vaguely recognized the host. A glance toward the wall clock told him it was 7:50. He'd only slept for about an hour and a half.

He heard his own name spoken through the low volume speakers and looked back toward the screen to see the show host sitting with one of the rookies, he immediately reached for the remote again but couldn't find it in the thin hospital sheet.

" -is McQueen doing?"

"There's been no official statement. I mean, you never want to see that on the track, I just hope he's alright-"

Well, at least not all the newer guys were total-

There was the remote.

He flipped around a few more channels, deciding to completely ignore RSN and stared at the weather forecast that came up on The Weather Channel. Local On The 8's meant nothing to him, but it wasn't telling him what a failure he was either.

Lightning reached for his phone and started to sift through the massive amount of conversations in an attempt to declutter his messages. His eyes widened in fear, afraid he'd accidentally deleted that one conversation. He held his breath as he waited for the confirmation message to appear.

Undo UNDO UNDO.

He huffed faintly, reading over the last few messages of his last text conversation with Doc to make sure it was all still there. Doc hated texting, so Lightning would send him the most random messages as often as he could. At first he'd always get a phone call in response. Don't text me, use the phone and call. I have a phone number for a reason.

Over time he'd actually started to receive short or one word answers, and eventually had actual full conversations. Lightning had considered it a personal victory.

(7:56 AM)
I wish I could talk to you now.

He wasn't surprised to see the failed message symbol appear beside his text but it hurt all the same.

His vision blurred and he hunkered back into the bed, propped in such a way as to make him more comfortable, and nearly curled in on himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to hold the tears back but failed in that aspect. A shuddering gasp escaped him and his chest felt like it was held in a vice grip as he battled to force back pain that had been buried for too long.

Why did you have to leave? I can't do this. I don't know what to do. You're the only one who'd UNDERSTAND.

Lightning finally decided his attempts were pointless and allowed himself to finally cry. He nearly threw the phone, but knowing he couldn't get up to retrieve it again was the only thing that kept it in his hand. The pain medications they had him on are killer, but they can't take care of what he's feeling now.

Lack of sleep, physical stress and emotional pain crash over him like a tidal wave and he does drop the phone if only to cover his eyes with his good hand. He wanted to scream but doubted the inhabitant of room #22 would appreciate that.

So he settled for crying until he no longer could.

Drying his eyes, which were now very sore, he breathed a shuddering sigh and reached for the phone again. The image on his lock screen didn't help either. His stock car beside the Hornet stared at him from behind the digital clock and weather widget.

He stared dazedly at the notification banner, he hadn't heard his phone go off.

Sally
1 unread message

He unlocked the lock screen and swiped his thumb over the notification to open the message and his brows knit together. He really didn't want to cry again.

Sally (8:32 AM)
We're all here for you. When you hurt, we hurt, and I know we'll never really understand the way Doc would have but you still have a team behind you. I know this is probably 100 times worse without him, but we all feel his absence too. We all care about you. I love you. Tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it.

He tried to come up with a response but paused.

Sally is typing...

Sally (8:33 AM)
I'll be there in an hour or so. They didn't give me a time for when your surgery was supposed to start.

He drummed his fingers on the back of the phone, thinking of how to respond.

(8:34 AM)
Just be here, Sal. That's all I need.

Sally (8:34 AM)
Always. See you in a bit...get some rest.

(8:34 AM)
Love you

Sally (8:34 AM)
Love you too.