- Eighteen -
JACE -
After eight days, Em and I start to closely resemble the walking dead. At first we went home to shower and change, but now we just shower in the restroom here and have Quinn bring us fresh clothes when she visits. They had Jax in a unit where we were only allowed to visit for ten minutes every hour, but later they moved him to a Neuro-ICU. The nurses here have taken pity on us, allowing much longer visits, although we do still get kicked out a couple of hours each day during their “quiet times.”
There isn’t much activity with a coma patient so Em sneaks into Jax’s bed to catch some sleep while the nurses are out of the room. Only one nurse has caught her. She didn’t say anything though when she realized Em wasn’t disturbing his lines or tubes, but she still frowned about it. I, on the other hand, have been sleeping in a chair. I wake up multiple times a night with my head bobbing up and down and a strain in my neck. A few nights ago, I stumbled out of the hospital and before I knew where I was going, I had pulled into Audrey’s parking lot. I held her for as long as I could allow myself to stay and when it became too painful, I snuck back out to return to my chair.
Mom stays at the apartment so she can get a decent rest. There must be something to it because she has definitely been in a much better mood than the rest of us. Tonight, she finally kicked us out and demanded that we not return until we sleep in a real bed and shower for more than ten minutes. It’s a slow, sluggish walk out of the hospital for the two of us. We know we need to go, but wants and needs are two vastly different things.
Em keeps me awake on the drive home, talking about what I think Jaxon would like for her to read to him tomorrow. I want to shout, ‘He’s in a damn coma for God’s sake, he can’t hear you!’ But I’ve already been enough of an asshole to one girl this week. So I just ignore her for the remainder of the drive.
My feet are heavy as I traipse through the apartment. The second I see my bed, my heart sinks at the thought of the last time I slept here. Audrey was snuggled up with me, and I remember the sound of her contagious laughter as she tried to “stealthily” sneak into my room that night. Jaxon and Em weren’t even home, but she didn’t have to know that. The second her head popped in through the door, she immediately dove under the covers with me. I also remember telling her how I’d never let her go, which is true, I haven’t let her go, but I did fuck this whole situation up.
I should have let her comfort me. Hell, maybe I wouldn’t have made it through this week ten pounds lighter if I had. I definitely wouldn’t feel this homesick. I feel like I’ve lost my home without her and Jaxon. I know Jaxon will make it through this, but will I have Audrey when it’s all said and done?
I quickly realize that my body is only going to function for a couple more seconds. When I hit the pillow, I quickly succumb to my extreme exhaustion and fall into a deep sleep, without removing my shoes or jeans.
I dream about Audrey. I dream about her on the beach, in the back of my car, and at one point, I see her silhouette watching a train fly by. I also dream that she comes into my room in the middle of the night.
When I reach out for her, I magically feel her soft, smooth skin. I’ve missed her sweet face and her body touching mine. In my dream, I pull her on top of me and I don’t even hesitate to touch my lips to hers. She comes willingly and as always with trust. I love this girl with everything I have. I can’t believe she is letting me touch her after everything I’ve done. I’ll always need her touch.
Too soon, she shoves off of my chest and moves away from me. The room is dark but I feel her hesitate right before she scrambles out. The only sound I hear is the click of the door. Dreaming about her only makes me ache more for her.
I want to chase her. Keep her next to me forever. I never should have let my stupid mouth speak before my brain could filter out the foolishness. But my body feels heavy and I slowly sink further into my mattress. I beg and plead for my legs to move, for my body to allow me to chase after her. I want keep her in my dreams all night. Instead, my eyes listlessly close and I crash harder into sleep, leaving only the faint taste of her chapstick on my lips.
A continuous buzzing rattles me out of the deepest sleep I think I’ve ever had. Apparently sleeping upright for days on end can take a harder toll on your body than I thought. I reach out and slap my alarm clock, begging it to leave me be. After all, if my brother can “sleep” for nine days, why can’t I?
I know Dr. Graham said we could easily be looking at a couple of weeks, but for some reason I really thought he would pull out faster than this. All of his scans continuously come back showing signs of improvement, so why isn’t he opening his eyes? I hope he doesn’t think he can just lie there forever, because I won’t have it. Not gonna happen. I need him to wake up.
When the buzzing doesn’t stop, I lift up my heavy head and glare at the device causing my disturbance. The alarm clock is not flashing like it typically would, and it’s then that I realize it’s my cell phone that’s actually going off. Shit, sleeping in the hospital is really messing me up. I reach and grab for the phone and without looking at my caller, I slide my finger across the screen and answer.
“Jace, it’s your brother.” My mom’s voice kick-starts my heart and I almost don’t want to hear what she’s going to say next. “He’s awake. I need to tell Em, but I had to tell you first.”
“Shit! For real?” I scramble up to my feet. “Shit, mom.”
“Yeah, he started fluttering his eyes all night, but the nurses told me that I shouldn’t get my hopes up. That sometimes this happens. But about an hour ago, he started trying to open his eyes. They rolled him off to do a CT scan and EEG, but he should be back real soon. He wasn’t fully awake or anything, and who knows what he’ll be like when he comes back.”
“What the fuck? Why didn’t you call me AN HOUR AGO?” I yell.
“Excuse me, Jace...language,” she replies sternly. “I’ve been running around signing paperwork and talking to doctors. They needed to run some tests, so none of us would have been able to see him anyway. Now you can come up here and be in the room before he gets back. I also need you to grab some clothes for him when you come.”
“MOM, A FUCKING HOUR AGO. How could you do this?” I roar.
Click.
Okay, maybe I deserved that. Put another check mark in my asshole box, but I still feel like she should have called a century ago. I knew coming back here to sleep was a bad idea.
I hurriedly change out of my dirty clothes. Rifling through my drawers, I grab articles of clothing that resemble a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, although I don’t stop to check. Then I run out into the hallway, sprint into Jax’s room, and throw items I think he will want into a bag. Em rushes into the apartment with wide, terrified eyes, wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday. She doesn’t have to speak. We don’t need words, instead we both run.
In true Southern California fashion, we get stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic for an extra thirty minutes. I should have expected this. I don’t know why I took the freaking highway. Em clutches her seat tightly and sways impatiently back and forth, but she doesn’t say a word. She’s been weird this week, like off-her-rocker weird. She smiles way too much, and I still haven’t seen her get upset once about Jax’s situation. She just repeats the phrase, “He’ll be okay,” over and over again.