Looking for trouble | Vol. 2 | Jamie Bower fanfiction

22 | Family

Skye

The pillows are so comfortable I can just blend right in to them, content with the heat of Jamie's half naked form on my side. But a phone absolutely had to go of ruining my bliss. Blasted fucking phone. I feel the bed shift as Jamie gets up to answer whoever is calling at this ungodly hour. I turn around groaning into my pillow.

"Hey mom," I hear Jamie say in a hushed voice, starting towards the door leaving me to sleep in peace.

Faint voices emanates from Jamie's phone. I am unable to make them out.

"Mom, what's wrong? Has something happened?" Jamie says no longer bothering to lower his voice. He has stopped dead in his tracks on the way to the door, I know because the floor no longer squeaks under the soles of his feet.

Silence

"What?" Jamie croaks.

Silence

"Where is he?" Jamie says, his voice sounds dispatched as if he is somewhere else. I sit up in the bed. He is frozen on the spot, his back to mine.

Silence

"Are you with him?" Jamie asks, pain tainting his voice. Worry flares in my stomach.

Silence

"What happened?"

Next followed more silence, Jamie's shoulders sagged. His body seeming frozon.

"Mom, I am coming...No, mom, listen.... I don't care! I am coming.... Shrew my career! They'll do without me for a couple of days!... Yes.... My brother's in a coma and you are worried about my career? Listen to yourself!... yes, of course I am right!.... Yes, have a good flight. Keep me posted if anything changes.. I love you too.. Bye." He hangs up.

I get out of bed, sensing the dread hanging in the room. Jamie is standing still, looking out into nothingness as I approach him, slowly gliding my hand from his elbow to his shoulder. We're still almost naked, only dressed in black tightfitting boxers and panties.

"Jamie?" I mumble as I walk around him, so I can see his face. One hand on his shoulder another on his jaw lifting his face, "Jamie? What's happened?" He doesn't answer as his eyes met mine, gut-wrenching sadness emanating from them. I had heard what he had said, 'My brother's in a coma'. But I'm not sure whether I really heard it or not, Sam couldn't be in a coma. He is Sam, naturally he is fine.

"J?" I mumble, pleading him to say something.

"My brother's in a coma," He states grimly in a low voice, filled with disbelief. Dread beats alive in my chest. I don't know what to answer, what could I answer without sounding like an uncaring douche? 'I'm sorry'? What exactly would I be sorry for? It's an odd thing to say when something bad happens, someone must not have been thinking back when they first started saying that.

"Where are they holding him?" I then ask.

"Copenhagen. He got hit by a car. Doctors say it's critical," his tone is monotone, as if showing feelings suddenly became risky business, which is probably exactly the case. I trail my hand from his jaw to his hand, holding it. I don't know what else to do.

"Is there - is there anything I can do?" I ask, neglecting the 'I'm sorry' norm, in these situations. I didn't help him anyway. I have never met Sam, since he rarely comes home to visit, according to Jamie. Sam goes to the academy of music in Denmark. It takes of most of his time. Or that's what Jamie told me.

"Do you know how to get of work for today? I need to get on plane." He confesses. Oh yeah.. We have work today, how bloody convenient.

"I don't,-" my answer is cut short by a high ringing of the front door.