Strike Astonishent into Angels

Chapter 4

John's phone was ringing.

He groaned and cracked open his eyes. The sun was just setting, but John had been taking a nap after Laf and Adrienne left. He fumbled with the phone for a minute before finally answering. He yawned as he put it on speaker. "Yes, who is it?"

"Is this Mr. John Laurens?"

"Yeah?"

"Mr. Laurens, you share residence with Mr. Lafayette, is that correct?"

"Um," John frowned. "Yeah?"

"Mr Laurens, you are listed as Mr. Lafayette's emergency contact, that being as his primary emergency contact is currently unavailable. We regret to inform you that Mr. Lafayette has just been involved in a severe car accident. He is currently being held at St. Lawrence's Hospital. Mr. Lafayette is currently stable, but has not woken up yet."

John's mouth was dry. He barely knew Lafayette, but he had agreed to being Laf's contact...

"I'll be there soon."

***

"...mild concus... smashed pelvi... broken femur, two broken..."

Lafayette's eyes fluttered indecisively. Something was clipped to one of his right fingers, but his left fingers were numb. Actually, Lafayette could barely feel any part of his left arm, or anything below his chest.

"...broken ribs. As for his arm... we've done all we can.... still not sure if he'll ever have complete control over it again. We've given him some numbing medicine for now. When he wakes up, he'll just use pain meds... Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Lafayette," a voice said. It switched from low and grave to cheerful in a matter of seconds.

Lafayette groggily forced his eyes to stay open. White light crowded his vision, and he let out a low moan as a pounding headache made itself known. He was laying on a hospital bed, a sterile smell filling his nostrils. Four men stood by his bedside. One with a long white coat and glasses, another with a crutch and large, curly hair, one with black hair and dark eyes, and the last being John Laurens. Or so Lafayette's brain told him. Was it really him? Nothing seemed real right now.

"I've just been telling your friends here your condition," the doctor continued.

Friends? Were they friends? Lafayette didn't know.

"You're a very lucky man, Mr. Lafayette."

Lafayette didn't feel lucky. He felt awkward and sick and broken. His legs were both in casts, along with his left arm. There was a bandage wrapped tightly across his head and an ice pack gently taped to his ribcage. A wheelchair sat in the corner of the room. He was hooked up to an IV stand with bags a fluid hanging on it. A heart monitor beeped to his left. The four men were closely watching him as though were a specimen to be studied.

"W-whathappened?" Lafayette rasped, mentally cringing at the sound of his rough voice.

"You got into a severe car crash. You're very lucky you're alive," the doctor said. There was a quiet note in his voice. Something deeper. He knew something. Something Lafayette needed to know. Something....

Oh God.

"Where's Adrienne?" Lafayette gasped. The heart monitor started beeping wildly, drawing alarmed looks from the gathered men.

"Mr. Lafayette, please understand-"

"Where is-- is she??" Lafayette yelled, the words slowly tripping off his tongue, struggling to sit up.

"Mr-"

"She's alive."

Lafayette froze at that. The man with curly hair (Lafayette's buzzing brain supplied the name Thomas Jefferson) had spoken up, leaning wearily on his crutch.