"Miss Chamberlain? Miss Chamberlain," a voice echoed in my head. I consciously squinted my eyes, attempting to open them.
"Yes," I blinked, the doctor's face focusing.
"Are you here for Ethan Dolan?" he asked. I nodded vigorously.
"And Bryant Eslava," I reminded him.
"Mr. Eslava is... not awake. But we are optimistic," the doctor said, "Mr. Dolan is awake, he's asking for you."
I brought myself to my feet, glancing at Grayson, who was asleep to the right of me. I went to wake him up, but the urge to see Ethan alone pulled me away. I grimaced at my decision as I followed the doctor down the long hallway. I checked the time, it was 2 am, which meant it had been more than 12 hours since Ethan was hurt, and at least 10 from him being in surgery.
They told me he was beat up everywhere besides his head, which was the good news, but the crash had jostled his inner organs, and they worried about internal bleeding, so he would be there for a while. Bryant was still asleep, suffering from slight head trauma. Grayson had been whispering 'coma', in his fitful sleep, and I knew it bothered him. That's how Sean had passed, slipped into a coma and never woke up. I hadn't talked to Jodie, not a word. I had nothing to say. Grayson had, hugging her awkwardly and leaving to go bawl his eyes out again. Then he would return, looking dead and solemn.
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and tried not to stumble over my own feet. Ethan was asking for me, Ethan was asking for me.
"Please be quiet, but keep him talking and alert" the doctor instructed, pushing open the door, ushering me in, then being whisked away by other stretchers that traveled through the halls.
"Ethan?" I squeaked, then cleared my throat. "Babe."
I approached the small bed, that made Ethan's broad frame look even bigger than usual. One leg was atop the scratchy sheets, and his hands were overlapped on his chest, just like he slept when he was very tired.
There were bandages wrapped all around his middle, and various cuts all up his arm and hands, which assumed is where glass from the windshield shattered on him. I leaned over him and watched him open his eyes.
"Emma," he said. His rough voice made me want to cry, but I had no tears left.
"Yeah, it's me," I said gently. He lifted a bandaged hand and pressed it against my face. I took his hand and overlapped it with mine.
"How do-" I began.
"No," he insisted. "Shhh,"
I obeyed.
"You're so pretty," he said sleepily, "And I'm glad you're here,"
"Me too, Ethan," I whispered back.
"It hurts," he said plainly. I couldn't meet his eyes.
"I know, Ethan, I know," I said, petting his shoulder. "Do you want me to get the doctor?"
"Can you lay with me?" he asked, clearly hazy from undergoing surgery.
I nodded, slipping in beside him as he scooched over, pressing a hand to his chest, right over his heart. He took my hand in his.
"It's beating, Em. I'm fine," he muttered.
"I know. I'm just making sure." I said. He inhaled deeply.
"Don't let Grayson see me like this," he instructed. "He was a mess when the motorcycle thing happened and this is way worse."
"Ethan, he has to see you," I insisted.
"No," Ethan said forcefully. "I'm serious. Not until I look better than this," he said, gesturing to his cut lip and swollen face.
"If I can see you like this, you're twin brother can handle it. I'm sure." I insisted.
"How's Bryant?" Ethan asked.
"They don't know, E. He hasn't woken up from surgery," I said softly, feeling his intake of breath.
"This is so fucked up," he said, his voice cracking slightly. I heard him sniff, and a single tear dropped at the top of my head.
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