Recount the Seconds (Muke)

Chapter 4

Present – Luke

I wake up to loud beeping. Blinking, my blurred vision clears to see the lines on Michael’s monitor oscillating wildly. Within seconds, nurses flood the room.

“What’s going on?” I mumble. I try to sit up, but my body isn’t functioning properly and everything is loud, so damn loud…

The nurses are muttering to one another, but it’s all unintelligible. I hear “doctor” and “brain activity” and “boy” and Michael is shivering all over and all of a sudden, someone is grabbing me by the shoulders and urging me out of the room. I desperately try to shove them away from me. 

“Mr. Hemmings. Mr. Hemmings!” 

My elbow makes contact with something and a woman gasps. Just then, a large man pins my arms behind my bag and drags me through the doorway. Just before the nurses can slam the door behind me, I see it happen and my breath catches in my throat.

Michael’s body goes still and, in a sudden intake of breath, his grey eyes fly open. 

*****

Present – Ashton

Around 9 in the morning, a nurse gently shakes me awake. “Sorry, love,” she whispers, “I’m sure it’s been a rough night, but we have some news and I think your friend needs you right now.” 

My stomach drops. No, Michael…

She must have seen the terror on my face, because the plump, middle-aged woman with soft hazel eyes smiles immediately. “No, love, it’s not like that,” she whispers. “The other boy’s awake.” 

I breathe a sigh of relief. 

“He’s going to be okay,” she assures me as I stumble to my feet, stiff from sleeping in the straight-backed chair in Calum’s room. 

I turn to her, grinning through my grogginess. “Can I see him?”

She frowns. “Not yet…but soon.” 

“Where’s Luke?”

“Follow me, love.” 

We walk down two white-washed hallways before turning a corner into a miniature waiting room.

“Someone will be here for you in a moment,” the hazel-eyed nurse promises, and with that, she walks off down the hallway.

Luke’s the sole occupant of the room, and he’s staring at the floor, so I can’t see his face. Still, I notice his shoulders shaking. 

I hurry to the chair beside him and sit down. “Luke,” I whisper. “Luke, he’s going to be all right.” 

The blond boy looks up at me with bloodshot eyes and my stomach sinks again. Pissed at him as I was earlier, I can’t blame the kid…and I hate to see him like this. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “Ash, I’ve been such a dick and I don’t want to hurt Cal but I’m so mad, I got so mad in there and they won’t let me see him–” 

“It’s going to be okay,” I try to assure him. I wait for the statement to register, but it’s lost on him. 

“I fucking chipped someone’s tooth trying to get to him, Ashton. I don’t know why — And they say — Well, how can–” 

Someone in the doorway clears her throat. 

“You, sir, have caused us a lot of trouble,” a tall nurse with black hair, rich brown skin and rectangular glasses says to Luke.

“It’s just, Luke and Michael are very close and–” I interject. 

“No,” Luke interrupts me. He looks the nurse square in the eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

As she nods, he hangs his head. 

“That’s not why I’m here, though.” She looks at me now. “Your friend Michael is awake now, as you’ve probably heard, and he’s doing pretty well, but–” 

Luke looks up abruptly.

“–we have a problem.” 

*****

Present – Michael 

“So let’s go through this one more time.” The doctor stares at me.

I shift uncomfortably in the hospital bed. “Is there something wrong?”

His hesitance scares the crap out of me more than anything else that’s happened. 

“No,” he says eventually. “We just need to keep monitoring your cognition and memory. You’ve been in a coma and we need to keep close tabs on your condition.” 

“My condition?” 

“Yes.”

He knows that’s not what I’m looking for. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s missing. 

“Is my family here?” I ask again. 

“Your parents are on a plane right now.”

I raise my eyebrows. A plane? They won’t give me straight answers to anything. 

“Let’s get through the procedural stuff first, Michael,” the doctor sighs. 

“Fine.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“Michael Clifford.” 

“Middle name?”

“Gordon,” I mumble.

“Sorry?”

Ugh, fuck you…“Gordon!” 

 ”Birthday?”

…and so it goes, but eventually, everything changes. 

“Where are you now?” he asks me. 

“In a hospital.” 

“Where?” 

I stop, stumped. My parents are flying to me, so I’m not in Sydney, but…well, his accent’s British…but that makes no sense…

“I don’t know,” I mutter, glancing up at him. Jesus…Think, Michael. But wherever that information ought to be, there’s nothing. I start to feel a bit ill.

“Where am I?” I demand, suddenly. I think I’ve asked before, but the nurses have a real talent for avoiding questions. 

“London.” 

“London?” I laugh. “Why would I be in London?” 

“You’re here with your band.” 

I frown. 

“With Calum and Ashton and Luke.”

“Sorry, who?” 

*****

This is evil as fuck. 

*cackles*

As usual, I always appreciate your feedback and/or questions. Your likes keep me going (secondary only to my undying love for Muke Clemmings), so yeah. Keep 'em coming. To everyone who's been talking to me and encouraging me, thank you so much, and until next week, happy shipping!

(Casual reminder that I update at least once a week - the adventure's just beginning my friends).

xx,

baconastronaut