The Mechanic

Chapter Forty-four - "One Day At A Time."

"The Mechanic"

Chapter Forty-four

'One Day At A Time.'

Demi's POV

"Follow my finger with your eyes."

An olive-skinned, bald-headed man held a light in my face, his tiny lips tightened in focus. I followed his instructions, my head in a slight fog.

On the other side of the room were Joe and Denise, who'd been waiting patiently at my side since the moment I'd entered the hospital. Denise was clearly exhausted; her head perched against the railing of a window as she nodded off. But Joe had his full attention on me - his gaze never breaking.

"Great job, Demi," the doctor said, simply. "Stand, please."

I glanced at Joe, at the redness in his eyes.

Carefully, I stood, the doctor steadying my balance.

"Okay, now, walk toward me. Heel to toe." At first, I wobbled, but eventually, I got my bearings. "Great," he muttered again.

Once more, I looked over at Joe. He watched me with such a keen focus; such regret. I could see it in his gaze his guilt. And I hated it.

"Can you tell me your birthday?"

Blinking, I returned my attention to the doctor.

"August twentieth."

"Good. Any pain?"

"Just my wrist."

"Dizziness?"

"No," I sighed.

Concluding, the doctor began to put away his items. When he did this, Joe stood, coming over to my side and facing the man.

"So, what now?" He asked. The bald man looked up at him, then at me, then back to Joe.

Then, confusedly, he looked at me again, beginning to explain.

"As far as the sutures in your forehead, you'll come back in two weeks to have them removed. From there, we'll examine your wrist; check on its progress. If it's healing properly, you'll have that cast off within six to eight weeks." He tipped his glasses, crossing his arms. "After that, you'll have another four to six weeks of physical therapy to restore the function of the muscles around the injury."

Slowly, I blinked, my mind exhausted.

Joe saw this and brought his hand to my back, gently.

"And what about her concussion?" He muttered. The doctor nodded.

"Take it slow. Lots of rest. No drinking, no drugs. Keep aware of light sensitivity, watch for any slurred speech or pupil dilation." Then, he turned his attention to me. "You'll get headaches. Take Tylenol or aspirin. If it lasts for more than four hours, give me a call. Okay?"

Suddenly, Joe became visibly agitated.

"That's it?" He asked. "She was completely unconscious for over an hour, and you just want her to take aspirin?"

The doctor set his eyes on Joe.

"Sir, loss of consciousness is common after a severe concussion-,"

"Then prescribe her something!" Joe bit back.

I sighed.

"Joe-,"

"He broke her wrist, she has stitches in her forehead, and you want her to take aspirin?"

"Joe!" I said again, my voice a bit louder. When he turned to look at me, I brought my exhausted gaze to his. "Please."

As I held his stare, he took in a deep breath, calming his frustrations.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, though I wasn't sure whom he was speaking to.

The man scribbled something down on a clipboard, just before handing Joseph the card he'd written on.

"Come on back and see us in two weeks," he stated. With that, he excused himself, and after such a long night in the hospital, I was officially discharged. 

I began to stand, grasping onto Joseph's arm for steadiness. As I became stable, Denise noticed that we were beginning to leave, standing as well. I watched Joe look at her, holding her gaze for a moment that almost became awkward. Only then did it become clear that Joe was subliminally acknowledging that he wanted to be alone with me. Once realizing this, Denise's eyebrows jumped upward.

"Oh! Um, I'll . . . go and get the truck."

And just like that, he and I were alone.

For the first time after . . . what happened.

The room felt dim; gray. The air was tinted with sadness, overcasting a dark cloud that seemed to follow our every step. We were traumatized. We were heartbroken that we were at this point.

And it weighed on us.

"You haven't slept," I observed, my voice frail; cold. Joe craned his neck back, looking up at the ceiling as he responded.

"I couldn't." Then, he walked away, staring out of the window Denise had been sitting against. The skies were in tears, sending the ground outside into a shallow whirlpool. The sounds of the rain thudding against the window were ambient; thunderous. 

And suddenly, my eyes released water that followed suit.

"I'm sorry," I cried, my heart in pieces. "I'm sorry that this is what we are. I'm sorry that I did this to your life."

I began to sob, bringing my one good hand up into my hair. My other arm wrapped around my stomach, I hunched forward, baring my soul, sobbing wholeheartedly. I saw my tears tapping onto the floor, their sounds just as ominous as the rain.

"No," Joe mumbled, coming back to me. "No, Demi, don't do this." He brought his hands to my shoulders, pulling me back upright and holding my body close to his chest. Within moments, his arms were wrapped around me, his body so hot I felt I'd melt into him.

"Nothing has changed," I whimpered. "It all . . . it all hurts."

Joe's chest raised; lowered.

"A day at a time," he said, and at the sound in his voice, I knew he was tearing, too. "We'll get through this."

And Joseph just held me as we waded there, in that thick air, in that still silence. We were submerged all over again, our hearts too tender to know where to go. We were beyond all logic; all control. 

And it shattered us.

-----

JJDL

*****Short chapter because it's my 21st birthday.*****