The Piano Man

XXXVIII. Side By Side

"In order to be free, we must learn how to let go. Release the hurt. Release the fear. Refuse to entertain the old pain." Mary Manin Morrissey

----

XXXVIII. Side by Side

Noah blinked his eyes, again and again, as his vision cleared. It took a moment for him to register exactly where he was. What didn't take long to realise was the freaking hunchback that was ringing the bells of Notre Dame inside his skull. It felt seventeen times worse than any hangover he'd ever experienced in college.

He was in a hospital room and thank God for that. With a headache like this, he needed to see a doctor. Noah's logic then quickly set in. Why the fuck was he in hospital? What had happened? Was he okay?

He could hear the noise of monitors, the beeping and pinging of machines that were attached to him. A clear drip was dropping liquid in through an IV in his arm, and there felt like there was a wire brushing against his leg. Where the hell did that lead?

"Noah?"

He heard Sophie's panicked voice and he felt her hands latch onto his forearm. Her face appeared before him, brows furrowed, and brown eyes swollen and red. She looked like she hadn't had any sleep, like she'd been up all night worried sick about him.

"Sophie?" he said, his voice unintentionally sounding like a croaky groan.

"Oh my God!" cried Joy. "Oh, baby, you're awake!"

"Mom ... what happened?" Noah grumbled almost incoherently.

"You don't remember, you big dope?" Tally asked angrily.

Tally was mad at him. God, what had he done? The last thing he remembered was ... wait, what was the last thing he remembered? He remembered landing in London and seeing Sophie at Pete's. He remembered seeing Maddie at school ... and that was about it. He wasn't sure how much time had passed.

"No," he mumbled, squinting his eyes. "What happened to me?"

"You went to see Beck," Sophie told him seriously, looking about as fragile as a china cup on the edge of a shelf. "You tried to fix things for me, and he antagonised you. He tried to pick, and fight and he punched you. You went down straight away."

Noah had no memory of going to see Beck. He didn't know what his purpose had been, but he could guess that it would have been to get the lowlife to drop his ridiculous case through any means necessary. He wasn't a man of violence. He'd never thrown a punch in his life, and he couldn't imagine that he would ever fight the guy.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his mother press a call button on the wall. He could see that Joy wasn't happy. She had a lot of pent up yelling to do, and Noah knew that she believed whatever he'd done was stupid. As soon as a doctor cleared him, the woman would definitely try and ground her thirty-year-old son.

"I'm so sorry he did this to you," whispered Sophie, utterly ashamed.

Noah wasn't even aware of whatever it was that Beck had done to him, but he sure as well knew that it wasn't Sophie's fault. But he couldn't tell her that, as Joy beat him to it.

"It's not your fault, Sophie," Joy assured her. "My son was the big idiot who wouldn't listen to me." Okay, so maybe she wouldn't wait for the doctor.

The door to his small hospital room opened, and a middle-aged doctor wearing navy scrubs and carrying a tablet entered. He looked pleased to see Noah, and he stopped at the end of his bed.

"Good afternoon, Noah. My name is Doctor Sanders," he introduced himself. "How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," he answered truthfully. "My head is killing me." Noah lifted his right hand to rub his forehead, but instantly realised something was wrong. His arm felt different, heavy, and upon looking at it, he saw that his whole forearm was in plaster, and two of his fingers were in some serious looking splints. His eyes widened, which only worsened his splitting headache. "What the fuck happened to my hand?" Noah cried out in despair; his voice still raspy. "Oh my God, what happened?"