The news hit like a ton of bricks.
Johnny Thunders was in the middle of band rehearsal when the call came. The voice on the other end was shaky, almost too frantic to make out the words, but Johnny caught enough to know it was bad—Vitani had been in a car accident, and she was in the hospital.
Without hesitation, he dropped everything, leaving the band in mid-song as he rushed out the door. His heart pounded with fear and worry as he sped to the hospital, his thoughts a chaotic mix of dread and hope that she would be okay.
When Johnny arrived at the hospital, he was met by a nurse who guided him to the emergency room. The sight of Vitani, lying pale and unconscious on the hospital bed, hooked up to various machines, took the wind out of him. He reached her side, holding her hand, praying silently that she would wake up soon.
“She’s stable,” the doctor told him. “But she has a concussion and some internal injuries. We’re keeping her under observation for now.”
Johnny nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He kissed Vitani’s hand, willing her to pull through. “I’m here, babe. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, hoping she could hear him somehow.
Meanwhile, back at the house, Rebel was getting restless. He’d heard about the accident and knew his mom was in the hospital, but Johnny had told him to stay home. Rebel wasn’t one to sit still, especially not when his mind was racing with fear and worry.
Just as he was about to sneak out, there was a knock at the door. Rebel opened it to find Walter Lure standing there, his expression calm but serious.
“Your dad asked me to come by and keep an eye on you,” Walter said, stepping inside. “How are you holding up, kid?”
Rebel shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the truth was, he was scared. “I’m fine. Just…worried about Mom.”
Walter nodded, understanding. “Yeah, I get it. But she’s tough, like your old man. She’ll pull through. In the meantime, let’s make sure you’re staying out of trouble, alright?”
Rebel gave a half-hearted nod. “Yeah, sure.”
Walter could see that Rebel was on edge, and he knew the kid had a tendency to act out when he was upset. He decided the best way to keep Rebel distracted was to engage him in something productive.
“Hey, why don’t we mess around with your guitar?” Walter suggested, pointing to the instrument resting against the wall. “I could show you a few tricks.”
Rebel hesitated, but then he figured it was better than sitting around doing nothing. He grabbed the guitar and sat down with Walter, who began showing him some licks he’d picked up over the years.
As they played, Rebel found himself getting lost in the music, the worry about his mom easing a little with each chord. Walter was patient, guiding him through the notes, and for a moment, Rebel felt like he could forget the chaos of the day.
But as the hours passed, the anxiety crept back in. Rebel couldn’t shake the thought of his mom lying in that hospital bed, and he started to feel the familiar itch of wanting to do something reckless to cope with it.
Walter noticed the shift in Rebel’s demeanor and decided to address it head-on. “I know you’re scared, Rebel. But you can’t go down that road again. Your mom’s tough, and she wouldn’t want you spiraling out because of this.”
Rebel stared at the guitar in his lap, his mind racing. “I just… I don’t know how to deal with this. What if something happens to her?”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Walter said firmly. “Your mom’s a fighter, just like your dad. And right now, she needs you to be strong for her.”
Rebel nodded, swallowing hard. He wanted to believe Walter, to hold on to that hope, but the fear was still there, gnawing at him.
As the night wore on, Walter stayed by Rebel’s side, keeping him occupied and out of trouble. It wasn’t easy, but eventually, Rebel began to calm down, the music helping to soothe his nerves.
Later that night, Johnny returned home from the hospital, exhausted but relieved to report that Vitani was stable and expected to recover. Rebel ran up to him, the fear in his eyes replaced with relief as Johnny pulled him into a tight hug.
“Mom’s going to be okay, right?” Rebel asked, his voice trembling.
Johnny nodded, his own voice thick with emotion. “Yeah, she’s going to be okay, Rebel. She’s strong, just like you.”
As they stood there, father and son holding onto each other, Johnny couldn’t help but feel grateful for Walter’s presence. He knew that, in a way, Walter had helped save Rebel from himself that night, keeping him grounded when he could have easily gone off the rails.
And as for Rebel, he knew that his family was the most important thing in the world to him. The events of the night had shaken him, but they had also reminded him of the strength that ran through his veins—the same strength that had kept his mom fighting in that hospital bed.
For now, Rebel was just glad that his family was still whole.
