What Happens on the Cruise

70. One More Day

"Austin!" Tim was calling him from a great distance away. "Austin, honey, come back to me. Please. Please, Austin."

The pain was like lava. His mind veered away from it.

"We need you to move back, sir. We're going... have... cut... out."

Blackness swallowed him again.

***

"We got him! Careful! Gently, gently."

He was cold except where the lava was burning into him.

"Holy shit!"

It was bright the other side of his eyelids, but he couldn't open them.

"Bren, shut it! Let's get him on the backboard."

He was being moved, strapped down.

He was ice and fire.

"Oh, God, Austin!" Tim's voice. "Oh, God, oh God, ohgod..."

"T'm," he forced out.

He felt Tim's hand in his. His hand felt sticky. "I'm here, baby. I love you."

"L'v... you..."

"Sorry, sir, we can't take you in here."

"But I'm his fiance."

"You can go in the police cruiser. I'm sorry."

"No," Austin protested as Tim's hand slipped from his.

"I'll see you at the hospital, I promise, honey. You stay awake for me okay?" Tim sounded scared.

"Hurts."

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

There was a jostling sensation and the world started fading again.

"... pulse... dropping..."

***

"Let's get you to the hospital, sir."

Tim let the policeman lead him to the squad car, still in shock. "Where's Adam?" he asked as the policeman held open the door.

"Already at the hospital with his wife."

"How is she?"

"I don't have any updates on her, sir. She was unconscious when they transported her."

As he got into the cruiser, Tim glanced over at the wreck of the car they'd had to cut Austin out of, his stomach churning at the sight, not wanting to think about how Austin had looked.

He looked down at his hands, coated in Austin's blood. His shirt was streaked in red -- Austin's, Ericha's, his own from the nosebleed he'd had from the airbag, probably even Adam's. "Wait!" he yelled and threw open the door, leaning out to vomit. As his body tried to purge his already empty stomach, he started shaking uncontrollably.

There were hands on him, a gentle voice, but he couldn't make sense of the words.

"... ister Foust?"

"He's... shock..."

A bottle of water was shoved into his hand. "... drink... Just... sip..."

He took a drink, gagging at the taste of vomit in his mouth. He spit it out.

"... 's okay. Get it out."

He couldn't stop shaking.

"We need to get him to the hospital to be checked for internal injuries."

He was being wrapped in a blanket and someone was getting into the back seat with him.

He'd started the day making love with Austin.