Fractured

Chapter Three

He felt grimy. His T-shirt was old and sticking to him. He could feel the pools of sweat under his arms as he repositioned himself in the chair. He could almost picture the Tom Petty logo seeping into his chest. He needed a shower, a nap and a coffee.

They had wheeled her in about two hours ago, telling him he could stay as long as he liked as long as he never interfered with the staff. He'd nodded and gone back to filling out paperwork.

Scarlett's room was on the second floor, with an almost perfect view of a carbon copy semicircular desk, like the one in reception. There were nurses there as well and he could see Michelle watching him. She raised an eyebrow and he looked away. He didn't want to talk, he didn't need a doctor, and he didn't want help.

Thankfully she had gone back to whatever the hell she'd been doing and left him alone. When he got to the end of the papers he took out his phone. He had promised to check.

I am okay. Scarlett is doing fine. She had a c section and the baby is on a respirator. She has a broken arm, concussion, broken rib and had internal bleeding. They say she got off easy. I met a girl on the plane who said her friends were getting married in 2 days. Could you send them that replica hammer I have of Thor's and some of those Romstein shirts? I think there are some in my closet. I know we didn't really talk earlier, and I'm really sorry. Thank you so much. I really really owe you one. If you ever, ever need anything. I have to go, a nurse is giving me a look. Tell Sonni that Susan wants to have lunch and kiss Ava for me. Thank you Kris.

He hit send and stood up as Michelle came in. She leaned against the door and said nothing. He knew what she wanted him to do. He would not see a doctor to tell him what he already knew.

"I finished those papers you have me. You may want to run them past some of their people, I left their numbers on the top. Oh, and I don't know either of their social security numbers or those sorts of things, so those are blank."

He stood and handed her the documents. She looked at him, then at Scarlett, out cold with the new gauze keeping her insides inside.

"You should see a doctor." He sat back down and pulled his duffel bag out from under the chair.

"I know." He removed a new shirt with the words American Pie plastered across the center. The black lettering faded into the gray fabric in a way that he loved. Old shirts were his favorite.

"Then come with me and we'll just-" he had to interrupt her.

"I said I know, not that I was going to. I already know what he'll say. I am emotionally unstable at the moment, my very best friend is bruised and scarred, her child I haven't even seen yet, and her fiancé is dead. I don't need a doctor to state the obvious. I also don't need one to tell me everything will be okay and hold my hand. I am not some dumb pompous actor who knows nothing of the real world, I live in reality too. I just need some time to process, alone thank you." She nodded. That was all she wanted, for him to admit that he was present in what was happening. She left and returned to her desk, leaving him to his own devices.

The room was fairly small but did the job. To the right of the bed were the heart monitors and machines, to the left was a small table and a glass of water, against t the wall there were 3 chairs, and farther down there was a door leading to an adjourning bathroom. Jeremy stood up with his shirt and went inside.

It was small, just a shower, sink and toilet. Soap and shampoo were provided thankfully. He closed the door and then began to peel off his layers. Setting them in a pile on the floor.

The water was hot. It burned away the tension in his shoulders as it pelleted him for behind. He was on fire, his body turning red as he scrubbed himself raw. He was assailed relentlessly. He tilted his head back and shut his watering eyes. He wasn't sure if they were watering because of the sight if his best friend, or the feel of the water on his head. His body was screaming at him to move away, get out, but he just stood there, refusing to budge.