For What It's Worth

Chapter Thirty Two : Code Blue

C O D E B L U E

Thomas

I don't think I've ever moved so fast in my life. As soon as the call ended, I jumped into the nearest clothes I could find, racing around to get my shit together. Sam's Mom had called and asked for me to be there with Sam until she arrives because she doesn't live in town.

Isabelle asks a series of panicked questions, none that I give a good or full answer to because I just don't know. My throat is dry and my stomach feels like it's been punched over and over again. She follows me down to the car and we get in, not letting a wasted second pass.

I almost run three red lights, driving above the speed limit the majority of the way there. I'm surprised Isabelle hasn't told me off but she seems just as desperate to get there as I am. I park in the first empty space I see and we make our way inside the hospital. Taking her clammy hand, she squeezes onto me out of comfort. Getting past the busy entrance, we reach reception and I can barely speak so Isabelle talks to them. They tell us that a doctor will be with us shortly so we stand off to the side, looking around and at each other, fear in our eyes.

"Hi. Are you here for Sam Jacobs?" A tall female doctor with dark skin and a friendly smile approaches us after a few minutes, a clipboard to her chest.

"Yes. How is he? Can we see him?" I question, stepping towards her.

"Sure, if you'd like to follow me." She leads us down the winding, bustling hallways. "When he was brought in he was seizing and unconscious. We thought it would be best to put into an induced coma for now. If you don't know what that is, it means he's been put in a deep state of unconsciousness which protects his brain from potential swelling. It's so we can closely watch and monitor his vitals."

She stops in front of a door, guarding it as she turns to us. It's killing me, I'm desperate to get in there and see him.

"It looks a lot worse than it is so prepare yourselves." She gives us a final nod before twisting the handle. The pair of us step into the small room.

Isabelle lets go of my hand to clasp her mouth, muffling an audible gasp. Sam is hooked up to various, beeping machines. His whole face is swollen, rings of dark purple around his shut eyes. His forehead has been wrapped up. His neck is stained with dried blood. Cuts are left all over his cheeks, some of them deeper gashes. His lips are cracked, dry and split. Any of his skin that's on show is colored with bruises.

"Oh my god." She races over to his side, wanting to take his hand but she hovers over it, so shocked she can't even touch him. I'm frozen at the end of the bed, a lump in my throat, not knowing what on earth to say. "Oh my god."

Finally tearing my eyes off of Sam, I see Isabelle who's crying now, her face stinging red. I swallow hard, preparing myself to comfort her. I step closer, wrapping her into a soft, warm hug.

"This was Nate." She sobs into my clothes. I stroke the back of her head, trying to calm her down.

"We don't know that." I argue back, my voice low.

"It's obvious Thomas." She angles her head back, staring up at me. Tears stream down her flushing cheeks. "He saw us together. Even if he wasn't the one who physically did it, he'll have been behind it."

"That doesn't matter right now, okay?" I reassure. She unwinds herself from me and pulls up a chair beside the bed.

"Sam. I'm so sorry." She talks to him in a whisper. "This is all my fault." I place my hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing. It's in no way her fault but she's so empathetic that she'll believe that it is.