Fade to Grey - A Heavy Rain Fanfiction

Revival

Ethan's POV
My senses adjust to reality and a unbearable pain rushes through my body. Its hard to pinpoint the wound until I remembered my encounter with the origami killer. My thoughts evert to Shaun, and I push myself awake.
"Shau-nn" I forced. I feel the air rush past me and the smell of sanitiser. I'm in the hospital. My eyes are too heavy to open, but my other senses feel enhanced.
"Stay calm, Mr Mars, you've suffered a bullet wound to the lower abdomen; you're going to need surgery." An unknown voice states to me, his breath hitting my face. I try to splutter his name again but I choke "Sh-"
"Your son is being cared for at the children's hospital, for now I need you to relax, Mr Mars" a feminine voice, further away says. Relax? How am I supposed to relax? I wanna see my son! Is what I wanted to say, but speaking another word seemed impossible as my body fought off the temptation to drift away...

Madison's POV
It's all over the media. Every channel, every radio station. Word travels fast. I would be apart of that selfish crowd of people, wanting a devastating story for their only personal gain. Heck, that's the reason I'm in this mess; but being on the other side makes me not want to be a journalist. How could I've let myself aspire to be like them. Tears pricked at my eyes as I think of Ethan. Please God let him be alright.

I blagged my way past the nurses and found little Shaun Mars. Palm against the door, I stop as I see a woman with dark auburn hair holding his pale hand. His mother. I step back and suddenly feel foolish. Of course they'd ring his mom. I turn around. Half way down the hallway I hear a voice
"Excuse me" I turn around to see the woman blinking at me. I quickly examine her face, finding similarities between hers and Shaun's. Her slightly freckled cheeks were soiled with tears. "Who are you?" She seemed aggressive, probably looking for someone to blame, someone to rip into to ease her pain.
"I-I'm Madison Paige, journalist" it felt weird saying my occupation. I always felt proud to say it but this time all I feel is shame.
"I'm guessing you have some morals as you didn't bring a camera. So what was it, huh? Come to gaup at my son? Come to see my misery?" Her eyes are flooding with tears but she doesn't look the slightest bit vulnerable.
"N-no I-I-I" I stutter "I helped with the investigation. I found out the address" her face softens with guilt.
"I'm sorry-" she starts.
"Don't be. I can't imagine what you're going through. The last thing you want is being bombarded with journalists..." I trail of feeling even more sickened by myself. She smiles weakly and turns to go back to her son's room. She stops and pivots around slowly.
"Thank you. They say if my son was left for another minute he would've died" she choked. I nodded and smiled, not with happiness but relief. We turned and went our separate ways.

I straddle my motorcycle, helmet on head, and sat. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I'm not particularly religious but I prayed. Prayed for Ethan. Part of me doesn't want to go because I'm scared of the results. He could be dead right now but the possibility that he's alive is what has kept me going. I start my motorcycle engine up, letting it roar. I take one last deep breath and blink back a pool of tears before speeding off to the hospital.