My POV
"Who tells someone that?!" Patrice asks angrily, slamming the door to the waiting room shut.
I look up at him, my tired eyes searching his red face. "I told them that I wanted the truth."
"Does the guy not believe in sugar coating things?" Torey questions. "At least a little bit?" He adds when I glance over at him, an annoyed expression crossing my face.
"Seriously..." Dougie agrees quietly, leaning against the bare wall.
"Hey, what happened...here?" Patrice asks, motioning towards my work shirt.
I look down to my shirt, now brown with dried blood. "Adam kind of spit up more blood on the way here. It missed the towel we were using completely."
"I can run back to your apartment and get something for you to change into." Brad offers, apparently not asleep at my feet anymore.
The hospital is quiet now, allowing some of the guys to sleep off the 6-0 loss to the Sharks. The majority of the guys are sprawled out in chairs or on the floor as they await news on their teammate.
"Don't worry about it, Brad." I tell him, gently poking him with the toe of my boot.
"You sure? You only live like, ten minutes away." He mutter sleepily, rolling onto his back.
Before I can say "no" again, the door to the waiting room opens.
"I assume you're all here for Adam McQuaid?" The man, Doctor Jacobs, asks.
"The entire team." Claude pipes up from the other side of the room.
Doctor Jacobs grins. "Nice team support."
"So, how's Adam?" Patrice asks, cutting to the chase.
Jacobs sighs, his grin disappearing as he looks over his clipboard. "It's pretty bad. The skate blade cut the artery in his neck, and tore the trachea a bit. He lost a lot of blood, and he's not breathing on his own. I hate to say it like this, but it'll be a miracle if he makes it."
Twenty pairs of eyes shoot to me, and I do my best to stay calm.
Jacobs offers a sad smile before walking out, leaving an entire team and I in a stunned silence.
"Phoebe?" Torey asks, still looking at me. I say nothing, starting to feel sick to my stomach. "You okay?"
"I think I need to go home." I whisper. Slowly, I stand up, staring back at the twenty people watching me.
"Do you want a ride?" Patrice offers, holding up his car keys.
I shake my head, staring at the ground. "I think I'll walk." I say quickly, stepping over Chris's hand, and Carl's legs. "Later, guys."
Despite the chilly October air, I walk home without my jacket on. I manage to make it home without breaking down on the streets, walking like a zombie to the apartment.
After somehow making it inside and changing out of my bloody clothes, I crawl onto the couch. I turn on the news, hoping it'll put me to sleep.
"And now to the sports news with David." The news anchor says.
"Making headlines in sports news tonight is Adam McQuaid of the Boston Bruins." David starts. "McQuaid took a skate to the neck from Sharks center Joe Pavelski. We have the video. But be warned, it is very gruesome."
