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III: He Looked Familiar...

"So what you're saying is that a group of guys came up to you and Jack and decided to start a fight?" Mr. Johnson's father asks his son's best friend. Jack nods his head quickly.

"Yes sir," he responds.

"Were they Creighton kids?"

"If they were, they didn't look familiar to me."

"So this was completely random?"

"Yes sir." Mr. Johnson sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. Jack shifts uncomfortably between his feet as the two stand outside of the hospital room where Johnson is recovering from emergency surgery. It has been four hours since the teenagers have arrived at the hospital and Jack called Johnson's parents as soon as they arrived at the hospital, but Johnson's mom is currently working the night shift at the other hospital on the other side of town and couldn't get off work while Johnson's dad was working in Lincoln for the weekend but luckily got to leave and come be by his son's side. Mallory and Jordan are currently sleeping in the waiting room, and neither Jack nor Johnson's father wanted to wake the girls up. They will in a little bit, just not right now.

"Was there a reason for the fight?" Mr. Johnson asks. Jack simply shrugs.

"I don't really know what the reason was," the teenager confesses. "You would have to ask Jack that question." Jack doesn't what to say anything wrong because he genuinely does not remember much about the fight. It's all a blur now in his mind.

"Well," Johnson's father says, interrupting Jack's thoughts, "I'm just glad that you were there for him when he needed you most."

"Me too," Jack murmurs, still staring at his feet. Mr. Johnson claps his large hard on Jack's broad shoulder, causing the young teenager to snap his head up to look up and see his best friend's father, a solemn expression evident on his weary, half-smiling face. Jack smiles small.

"You can go see him if you want," Mr. Johnson informs Jack. "He asked for you when I saw him a few minutes ago. I have to go into the waiting room to go talk to the cops about the situation anyways. Have they already talked to you?"

"Yes sir, they have."

"Well then go on ahead and see Jack before the nurses get mad at you for going back there."

"He's probably sleeping."

"Since when does Jack sleep?" Jack laughs and shakes his head alongside Mr. Johnson. When their laughter dies down, Mr. Johnson opens the door to Johnson's hospital room. As soon as Jack walks in, he hears a tired voice croak out:

"Oh so now you decide to come see me?" Jack could recognize that voice better than his own. He chuckles as he makes eye contact with Johnson. He suddenly stops laughing when he notices the white bandage wrapped around the blond's forehead along with him having the beginning forms of a black eye growing all around his eye, a busted lip, and a bruised cheek. Jack walks slowly into the room, closing the door behind him. He stops until he is right next to the bed, unable to say a word for fear of the sound of a sob to come out. Johnson notices and says calmly, "I'm okay, dude. I'm here in this God-forsaken hospital like you told me to. I'm bandaged up and I'm healing from surgery. I'm good, man."

"Doesn't excuse the fact that you got hurt," Jack mumbles while picking at the thick, woolly blanket covering Johnson's small body. Johnson sighs sadly and tries to sit up, falling back and groaning miserably. Jack pushes the button on the side to lift up the back part of his best friend's hospital bed and Johnson just narrows his eyes as he faces forward.

"I hate hospitals," he murmurs through gritted teeth. Jack laughs lightly as he sits in a chair by the bed. It's quiet for a few minutes. Neither boy talks; they just let the silence take over so that both boys can truly process what happened just hours before. It's almost as if none of it was real and that they are just dreaming the whole thing. Jack finally decides to speak up.