Texting Prince Charming

Interlude Part 3

Song is "It Ain't Me" by Kygo and Selena.

This was a little harder to write than I thought. Probably because of what it is building toward. :(

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March 12, 2016, 4:15 pm

(Sebastian POV)

The drive to St. Mary's Hospital should have taken me a good fifteen minutes or so, usually. But considering I drove thirty miles over the speed limit the entire way, I made it in record time.

The ride was a silent one. Both Mason and myself were too afraid to ask the obvious, fearful of what the other might say. I had no idea if it was one of my sisters? Coach Larson? One of my grandparents? Any and all possibilities had my stomach twisting in knots.

I parked in the first available space I spotted, not even caring that I had to run halfway across the parking lot in the pouring down rain. My pace slowed as I came closer to the EMERGENCY ROOM sign emblazoned in red lettering above the automatic doors.

I hated hospitals. Sure, my mom was a doctor and worked here, and sometimes I had the displeasure of having to visit to talk to her. But never in the ER. Never once on any of the patient's' floors. Never anywhere else besides the main floor's lobby. That was the deal she and I made when I was ten years old. And we had stuck to it ever since.

Until now.

After a quick deep breath, I marched as resolute as possible through the door with my fellow teammates right on my heels. Luckily the nurse sitting at the information/check-in desk was a familiar one.

"Sebastian, is that you?" said the nurse with the white hair.

I forced a half-smile. "Hi, Bridget." My eyes automatically swept down the long hallways in search of my mother or any indication of who she meant when she called. "Ummm. My mom called and told me to come here?"

Bridget squinted as she glanced at a nearby computer screen. She tapped the keyboard a couple of times and said, "I'm sorry...I don't." Her brown eyes wouldn't meet mine. Instead, she grabbed the phone and started dialing.

"Doctor Birch, your son is here in the waiting room to see you." Bridget paused, apparently listening to my mother as she continually nodded. "Okay. Alright. I'll tell him you will be out here in a few minutes." She hung up the phone and kept her gaze averted from mine. "Your mom will be out--"

"In a few minutes," I cut her off. A few minutes, here, would feel like an absolute eternity. My mom knew that. After I had stepped away, I stopped. "Bridget, you don't know what happened, do you?"

She shook her head while feigning a smile. "Sebastian, I'm sorry." A few odd seconds of silence passed before I walked to a chair and sat beside Luke.

He motioned toward Bridget. "So what did you find out?"

I leaned forward, running a hand through my hair. One deep breath in and then another, I choked on the words, "I. I don't." My shoulders locked, and all I wanted was to bolt from this place.

"Man, are you all right?" Luke bowed his head to take me into view. I turned away. The last thing I needed was anyone of them seeing me like this.

I wanted to tell him that there was no way in hell I was all right. My heart was racing, and all I could hear was the pounding of it in my ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. It was so loud; it drowned out the nearby noises of the TV and the murmurs of everyone as they continued with their trivial conversations.

If only something could mask the antiseptic smell. That scent triggered so many memories, and none of them were good ones. Not even the one of Maggie being born, a month to the day after my dad died.

Before he got sick, I never had a problem coming here. Actually, I used to love it. My mom would sometimes bring me to work and let me visit some of her patients. We'd play games. Watch movies. Hang out in the designated playground if they felt up to it.

But everything changed after Dad had his first seizure. He was a respected anesthesiologist at this very hospital and he had self-diagnosed with cancer before any tests were ordered.

He was right. He had brain cancer. Inoperable brain cancer. My dad was told he had four months to live, and my mom was almost six weeks along with Maggie at the time. He lasted another seven months. And although my mom and my grandparents, even my older sisters tried insulating me as much as possible, I still watched my father deteriorate. Slowly. Painfully. Horribly.

The day that he died in this very hospital, I made my mother promise I'd never have to return.

And here I was.

"Sebastian?" My mom's strained voice caught my attention. Immediately, I took abrupt notice of her overly blotchy cheeks and the red streaks to her whites of her eyes that could have only meant one thing.

She'd been crying.

And one thing my mom did not do, was cry. Ever. The last time I ever remember seeing a tear shed from her was right after my dad died.

This was bad. Real bad.

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Ahhhh...so what did you all think. It will get a little rough from here for our hero but I think it is a story needed telling. :)

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