Runaway (Marianas Trench Fic)

Chapter 38: Injuries

Josh's POV:

As Matt and I walked into the practice room, we were immidiately welcomed with sympathetic faces and hugs from everyone; even Brett. We responded with curt nods and fake smiles as we were trying to push everything, especially Chloe, from our minds right now and just focus on the music.

Practice seemed to both last forever, and fly by as we all seemed to be fully, emotionally, putting ourselves into the music which we haven't done in awhile. While we were playing, it seemed like we could be lost in our own notes for an eternity; but when we were done, it seemed like it had been a dream. After we had put our instruments away and whatnot, we all congregated in the lounge area and sat in silence as if we were all planning different ideas of what we could do but were waiting for someone else to speak up first. That person was me this time.

"So, what do you guys want to do?" I asked, first letting my gaze rest on Matt who was completely zoned out and then I swung my gaze around to the rest of the crew who shrugged their shoulders cluelessly. Well, looks like the gang of ticklefucks isn't going to do anything today. I took a deep, and quite exaggerated breath and heard Ian chuckle.

"Well Mr. Funny-man, got any suggestions?" I stared him down with a straight face and he shrugged again, smiling slyly. That little fucker.

"Didn't think so. Anyways," I looked at Matt who was obviously a wreck, "didn't you want to do something for Chloe?" Hearing this his eyes shot up and he was immediately attentive to every word I had to say. Well, that certainly did the trick. He nodded and then went into thought.

"I got nothing." He said finally, looking at Mike and Ian helplessly, eager for some sort of suggestion. Mike was staring off into space when all of a sudden an excited smile began tugging at the corners of his lips as the ideas began shining in his eyes. He stood up and began putting on his jacket as Ian, Matt, and I all exchanged looks of both confusion and amusement.

Mike turned around and his smile fell from his face before it returned as he began to laugh, to himself I'm guessing.

"Well, I should probably tell you guys my idea, eh?" We all joined in laughing, nodding our heads in agreement as he began to unravel his plan to us. It was definitely a cute gesture and I thought she would love it. We all agreed on what we were to do and grabbed our jackets to head out the door. The one thought running through my mind was, "challenge accepted, motherfucker."

Chloe's POV:

    I slept horribly, waking up restless and uncomfortable, not able to lay on my sides or get into any sleeping position at all. Finally I decided to reach over and press the little red button to call in the nurse. Within minutes, a giddy young nurse walked in, her hair up in a ponytail as she asked what she could do for me. I politely, and painfully, told her that I wanted to see my doctor and she agreed before disappearing once more.

I hadn't once yet been told what the fuck was even wrong with me. I didn't know whether to be worried or expect to be able to spring out of bed some time soon. As I was running through all the different possibilities, a gray-haired doctor walked in with a smile upon his face and a clipboard in his hands.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, checking my IVs and the different machines I was hooked up to. I felt like some sort of sick lab experiment.

"I'm alive I suppose." I responded dryly in a very witty tone, which was quite unlike me when it came to serious situations such as these. Must be all these pain medicines, drugs, I'm being fed. He chuckled slightly, lightening the mood.

"Well, I suppose you'd like to know what happened, huh?" He looked up from the IV bag and took a seat at the end of my bed as I nodded my head. Well sure Mr. Doctor Sir, you can sit on my bed, make yourself at home. Then he told me the story of the drunk taxi driver. Perfect, how much more cliche could this get? I listened, feeling as if this was completely surreal and just a dream and I was waiting to wake up and be okay again.

Okay. Hmm. Not quite sure when the last time I actually felt genuinely "okay" or "happy" without tons of stress was. These thoughts were forced away as the doctor began telling me about my injuries and I listened intently. Four broken ribs. Explains why I can't move at ALL. Bruises all throughout my neck, mostly around my trachea: explaining why every time I talk it feels like someone is fucking punching me in the wind-pipe. Bruised nose, black eye, broken wrist, severe concussion, bruised pelvis, the list went on. Damn that stupid taxi definitely did a number on me. I bet I looked like some sort of zombie at this point, all bandaged up and mangled.

Broken. I took a deep breath and thanked the doctor, telling him I wanted to rest. He nodded in agreement before giving me some medicine to help me sleep. He told me he would be back later and blah blah blah and quietly he finally left the room. I don't even know how many minutes, possibly seconds, went by before the sedative, or whatever he gave me, began to kick in and finally I was able to get some genuine rest.

I woke up feeling as if I had slept forever and I opened my eyes slowly before snapping them open a the sight that I was greeted with. My room was ENGULFED in various bouquets of flowers. The colors and types were endless. To make the moment even better, sitting at the other side of the room were Josh, Matt, Mike, and Ian.