The Broken Places (Septiplier)

17) Holding On Or Letting Go

The video is not mine. Also, I'm not a doctor or a nurse or any form of medical practitioner, so this is probably not medically accurate. 

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Beep.... beep.... beep... beep... beep... beep.

"They're too slow." Mark's voice was loud in the otherwise silent room. He was settled in a bed beside Jack's, ignoring the beeping of his own machine, which was much stronger.

The doctors had admitted him for the cut to his forehead and the blood that had gotten into his lungs. His broken nose had been set and taped, as well. He'd also managed to fracture a few ribs, which they'd taped up tightly. He was being kept overnight for observation, to make sure nothing else was wrong.

"Mark, they're not too slow." The lie was easy on Matt's tongue, but the guilt was harder to bear, and flashed across his face. "He's going to be fine Mark, really."

"Unfortunately, we can't say that for sure." The doctor's voice was quiet, more subdued as he walked into the room. "His injuries are severe and if we can't get him to wake up, well... we're just not sure. The next 72 hours are vital." 

"What all exactly happened, doc?" Ryan had an arm wrapped firmly around Matt, whose face was still pale. 

"Well, there was a lot of damage. The faulty airbag not going off really took it's toll. There were a series of abrasions on his lower abdomen, which we managed to get stitched up. He lost a lot of blood, though. His left arm was pulled from the socket and twisted, causing a difficult re-attachment, we're not entirely sure he'll be able to use it fully again. His left leg was twisted as well, breaking in three separate places. We did our best to get the bones to settle properly, but again, we aren't sure about usage. He'll need a wheelchair for a few months, at least. And he needs to be sure to keep his left arm as still as possible. He hit his head hard, causing swelling in his brain. We got it to go down, but we're not sure about the damage, which is why the next 72 hours are critical. If he wakes up, we'll be able to tell how bad the damage to his brain was." The doctor paused, his face grave. "I really am very sorry." 

"The semi driver." Mark spoke, suddenly, his face expressionless. "How are they?"

"Well, the brakes on the semi gave out, explaining the crash. The driver received whiplash and some shrapnel to the face, but was otherwise unharmed. He'll be going home after a brief visit, like yourself." The doctor smiled, but the expression was sad and full of pity. "He'd like to apologize, if you're-"

"No." Mark's voice was vicious and the sound of his heartbeat spiked in retaliation. "He is to come nowhere near Jack." 

"Mark it was an accident-"
"He didn't mean it-"
"Sir, I'm sure he is very sorry-"

"I don't give a fuck. He isn't coming anywhere near Jack. Not until his eyes open and we know he's fine." Mark's expression turned from fury to fear as he looked at Jack's still figure. "Can you move me closer to him? I want to hold him."

"Sir, that's not really regulation...." The doctor paused, watching the two for a moment, before sighing. "Of course, I'll send in a nurse in a moment to help you get settled. Try to rest easy, Mr. Fischbach, you need to rest and worrying over Mr. McLoughlin isn't going to help your recovery any."

"Right, sure." Mark was restless for the moment he could touch Jack. He wanted to be sure that Jack was alive, wanted to feel him breathing and feel the warmth of his skin against his own. He was too still now, even when he slept, Jack was never this still. He was too pale, too still, too.... quiet. The man lying quietly in the bed beside him, hooked to a million machines and wires, this was not Jack. Jack was loud and silly and larger than life.

 Jack was like the sun. He was like the sun after weeks of nothing but pain and emptiness. He was all smiles and joy and the most beautiful pieces of all the people Mark had ever met rolled into one. He was wonderful and beautiful and everything Mark had never known he'd needed.  But this, this quiet, meek thing struggling to live in a hospital bed beside him, this was not Jack. This was someone else, a stranger.

"Mark...." Ryan's voice was quiet and he didn't meet Mark's gaze. "You need to call Jack's family. They need to be here... in case-" he couldn't finish.

"Right, I need Jack's phone." 

Jack had shoved his phone in his backpack during the drive and it had been saved during the wreck. Ryan retrieved it from Jack's bedside table and Mark unlocked it with shaking fingers, glad Jack hadn't thought to change his lock code. He scrolled to the contact labeled 'Ma' and took a deep breath before clicking the call button. 

Thankfully, Jack's service wasn't bad and the call went through after only a few tries.

"Sean, darling! I was so worried, why didn't'cha call your poor ol' ma earlier? Put me through all the worry for nothin'. So, how's America treatin' ya? I hope that Mark boy is bein' nice."

"Mrs. McLoughlin, it's Mark Fischbach ma'am. There was an accident and Ja-Sean is in the hospital. You and your husband need to come to LA to be here, I'm so sorry." His voice broke and he began to cry. "I'm so sorry Mrs. McLoughlin, I tried to keep him safe, I did. I'm so sorry."

The other end of the phone was silent for a long time, before another voice picked up, this one distinctively male.

"Sean, what's got your ma in such a fuss? She's just sitting here like someone died. What's goin' on?"

"Mr. McLoughlin, my name is Mark Fischbach, I'm Jack's- well, there's been an accident and you and your wife need to come to LA. Please come soon, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

Mark was unable to say anything more and Matt had to finish the call. It wasn't long before the nurses came, gently pushing and manipulating both Jack and Mark's beds so they were able to lay together. Mark held Jack tenderly in his arms, carefully, and settled his head on the taller man's chest.

"His parents will be here the day after tomorrow, Mark." Matt sighed, settled into a chair beside his bed. "We need to go home and tell everyone what's going on. I called your mom, she'll be here tomorrow. Unless you need us to stay?" 

"No." Mark replied, listening to the slow beat of Jack's heart. "I just want to be alone right now." 

Matt and Ryan left quietly, turning off the lights behind them.

And it was only Mark and Jack and the beeping of their machines to lull Mark to sleep. He wound his warm fingers with Jack's cold ones, and finally allowed himself to cry.