American Made

Touchdown

The bright autumn sun shining in from the windows in your hospital room almost seemed to tease Jake. To point out how perfect the outside was but inside this room, was complete turmoil. He let out a long sigh, his chest rising high before collapsing back down. His eyes watched the plane off in the far distance, probably landing at the airport near the stadium. He wondered what it would be like to be at the game today.

But he had more pressing matters.

You.

His hand still held onto yours, never letting it slip as he closed his eyes, catnapping a little as he waited for the game to start.

Two long days.

That's how long he had been waiting for you to wake up. Every nurse told him that you would wake up on your own when you were good and ready. That you were on the mend and maybe you just wanted to rest a little more. Part of him wanted you to rest, but he so desperately wanted to hear your voice again and know that you were okay.

The plate of food his parents had brought him had now grown cold as he thought about that night. As he had done a thousand times already. What could he have done differently? Why didn't he just insist? Why did they attack you? Who attacked you?

"Whoa, big fella..." The police officer had warned as Jake shoved his way past him and towards the ambulance.

The officer grabbed him briefly to slow him down until he was already at the back doors of the ambulance.

Two EMTs were working on getting your vitals and placing an oxygen mask over your nose. Your once well-kept hair for the show was a rat's nest with blood coating one side of it. Your hands were stained with, what he hoped, was the attacker's blood.

You had put up a fight.

"Are you a relative?" The EMT asked and Jake nodded as his phone started to buzz.

He just couldn't look away from you. Jake slowly ascended the ambulance and sat down near you. His breath caught in his chest just looking at you. It hung open like a fish as he looked over you. How could anyone do this to someone so innocent? What did you do to deserve this?

"Jake?!" A voice called out from outside.

Jake gave you a once over before forcing himself to look out the open double doors. His father standing there, his chest heaving as if he had run there. His mother arrived afterward, covering her mouth at the sight of you and him inside an ambulance. Your mother arrived too, gasping as the police tape and the several police officers started to put the puzzle pieces together of your disappearance.

"Dad..." Jake said, his voice waving as tears started to build up. He was at a loss for what to do. What could he do?

"It's alright, son. We'll take care of this. Go with her. Take her to St. Francis..." Richard instructed the EMTs who were closing the doors to the ambulance. One of them climbing into the driver's seat and another working on strapping you down for the ride to the hospital.

Jake looked out the back windows as his parents and the crime scene faded away. Only to be replaced by crowds of people wondering what had happened. He knew the rumor mill would spread like wildfire.

Everything after that was a fog for him.

Now here he was two days later, heavy bags under his eyes and still in his jeans and t-shirt front that night. Refusing to leave your side for more than it took for him to take a piss. If the nurses weren't around, he kept the door open in your hospital room bathroom, just to keep an eye on you. He knew his mother would swat his head, but she wasn't here all the time.