In Waves | ✔️

67 | crash

I've been thinking about the trajectory of a wave. It might seem like an odd thing to think about when you're suspended in an acute state of numbing worry, but it's where my mind eventually went during my six hour flight home.

A wave swells in the depths of the ocean, it surges toward the shore, it rises, falls, crashes, and then it returns to the depths and the cycle repeats. Constant motion. Always moving through tides and currents, but nothing affects its course. People drown, ships capsize, hurricanes rage - the waves don't change for disaster. And right now, I can't help but envy that resilience. The crash on the shore doesn't permanently break them. It isn't an obstacle to overcome before they can go back out to sea.

In the trajectory of my life, in the tides and swells that brought me here, I don't have the luxury of returning to the ocean after a crash this devastating. I'm left on the shore, sinking among the grains of an unforgiving vacuum. Waiting for the tide to come in and wash away the sand I'm suffocating in.

Waiting for the oxygen I lost six hours ago.

〰️〰️〰️

I rush through the entrance of the hospital, rolling my suitcase along behind me. The transition from darkness to harsh florescent lighting blinds me for a moment. Taking the change of time zones and when I left New York into account, I gather it must be around 3am.

"Hi, can you tell me what rooms Rob DeMarco and Nate Miller are in?" I ask the nurse sitting behind a computer.

She keeps her tired eyes on the screen. "Visiting hours are over. Come back at 8am."

"Please. They were in an accident tonight. I need to see them."

She huffs a heavy sigh. "What's your relation?"

"Rob's my brother, and Nate's, well... I'm not related to him, but he's a really good friend."

Her nails clack on the keyboard before she pauses, her weary face somehow growing more solemn than it already is as she reads over the screen. My hearts lurches. Nurses see the worst of the worst on a daily basis. How bad does it have to be to get a visible reaction like that? 

"It looks like Mr. DeMarco is in the Intensive Care Unit, room 109," she says, finally meeting my eyes. "And I'm sorry, but I can't share any information about Mr. Miller if you're not immediate family."

I want to put up a fight, but I figured the non-relation thing might be an issue, so I follow her directions to the ICU as fast as I can. When I walk through the door, my legs almost give way when I see Rob. I drop my suitcase, racing over to his bedside. My eyes well as I take in his broken and battered body, the thick cast on his leg, the needles in his veins, the tubes in his nose. His face twitches as he sleeps, like the pain is pushing through his unconscious state.

"Lia." Mom's voice is suddenly by my side and she's pulling me into a hug. I glance to the corner where Derek is getting up from a chair. I must have rushed right past them. "Thank goodness you're here, farfallina."

I swallow the golf ball in my throat. "Please tell me it looks worse than it is."

She releases an unsteady sigh, rubbing my arms as she draws away. Her face is completely washed out, eyes puffy and bloodshot. "He was bleeding in his stomach in the emergency room, his leg was crushed, glass stuck all over him, a back injury. The doctor said..." Her mouth curls, and she shakes her head, looking to Derek when her voice fails her.

"The doctor said there's a chance he could be paralyzed from the waist down," Derek continues. "We won't know until tomorrow when they examine him."

I feel my cheeks warm with tears, the golf ball cementing itself. "Has he woken up yet?"

Mom nods. "A while after he came out of surgery, but he was in so much pain. I've never heard him cry like that before."

"They gave him enough morphine to knock out a horse," Derek says.

Mom moves to Rob's side, gently caressing his bruised face. "Il mio bambino," she whispers.

I yank my eyes away to stop myself from collapsing, turning to Derek. "And Nate?"

"We haven't heard anything. They were also working on him in the emergency room, but we haven't seen him since." He reaches for Mom's arm. "We should go home." Her gaze sticks to Rob, lost in him. "Serena."

She jumps. "What?"

"We said we'd go home once Lia got here, remember? You need some sleep."

"But what if he wakes up?"

"He won't until tomorrow." Derek gives her a reassuring smile. "We'll come back first thing in the morning."

She looks at him in conflict before she nods tiredly, giving Rob a careful kiss on the forehead.

I walk with them to the door. "I'm going to stay."

"Lia, you need some sleep, too," Derek says.

"I slept on the plane," I lie. "You guys have been here all night, go home and get some rest. I'm fine."

With a bit more persuading, they leave with my suitcase, and I drag the chair from the corner to Rob's bedside. I don't know how long I sit and watch him. The motion of his chest accompanied by the continual beep of the machine tracking his heartbeat is more comforting than I thought was possible, because no matter how bad his damage is, he's alive.

I kept picturing the worst scenario on the plane. That I'd get here and his bed would be empty. Or I'd just see his lifeless shell of a body. The mere thought of never being able to talk to him again brings the tears back, silent and steady.

"Lia, you're here."

I spin around, wiping my eyes when I see Blake standing in the doorway. He gently smiles, a bruise on his cheek moving. He's got a bandage on his forehead, his shirt is spotted with dried blood, and his arms are scratched up like he's been scraped with glass.

"Oh my god, you were with them."

"Yeah, they were keeping me under observation, but I'm fine. "He gives a nod, gesturing to Rob. "Pretty unfair, right? I walk out of it with a couple cuts, and he's laid up in a hospital bed."

I stand, closing the space between us. "What about Nate?"

His oaky eyes flit over mine, and I know he can hear the desperation hovering in my voice. "Also in a bed. Busted arm, some bruised ribs, some blood loss. And something called a pulmonary contusion, which is like a bruised lung, I think? He'll be okay, though."

Relief streams through me, every muscle loosening a fraction more. "How do you know? The nurse wouldn't tell me anything."

"Because you got the wrong nurse," he says, shrugging. "Nate's mom works here. She's kept me updated."

"Right, I totally forgot." I slowly move to the end of Rob's bed, looking over his legs. "Did they tell you he might be paralyzed?"

Blake stays quiet for a moment. "Yeah. He definitely got the brunt of the accident."

I bring myself to look at his downcast face. "Can you tell me what happened?"

He frowns, lingering on Rob before he meets my anxious eyes. "The cafeteria's right down the hall. Let's get some coffee."

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a/n: did you think i'd kill one of them off? i'm not THAT mean!

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