Star Gazing (Bonus Scenes Matt & Jules, Jack)

CHAPTER 4 Colored Stars

CHAPTER 4

Matt winced as another stitch went into his pinky, and the attending physician paused to ask, “Can you feel that?”  When Matt affirmed, he said, “Hold on, I will have a nurse bring another injection.”

“How many more left?”

“Just a few.”

“Don't bother then.  It's not that bad.”  Gritting his teeth through the next few pulls, he looked away from the red and blistered skin, zig zagged with stitches and asked, “Is someone keeping my wife updated?”

As gruesome as his hand looked now, it was nothing compared to what he had feared.  That went for his side as well.  He had been half afraid that the explosive had gone into him like a gunshot.  That's what it had felt like; what he imagined anyway.

“I can't tell you for sure, because we have so many patients in tonight.  But the staff is usually on top of keeping families updated.”  The physician tied off another knot close to the skin.  “One more, and you are done.  You were lucky to get off with stitches, burns. No skin grafts, no lost fingers.  I can't tell you how many have lost fingers, or eyes, even hands by not taking fireworks seriously.  There is one down the hall right now in serious condition, being prepped for surgery.”

Matt remained quiet.  For at least an hour, someone had been digging paper and powder shrapnel from the wounds of his chest and hand; tending to burns, and stitching his skin up.  There was a risk with stitching burned skin, and because of that, his hand was set in splints so that his fingers wouldn't move. 

'It's going to be a great new year.'  The words he has whispered to Jules, willing them to be so, after the rough few months they had.  Then he had begun the new year by stupidly causing more stress upon their family.  He tried to remember why he had even been so careless, but any reason other than moronic eluded him.  His years of stupid and careless stunts had begun and ended during the few years apart from Jules.

It was with much embarrassment that he walked the hallways, following his white coated escort.  Thoughts of missing fingers, or worse, were burned into his brain, and he barely flexed his own, encased as they were, under splints and gauze, as if to assure himself that he really was that lucky; that they really were all there. 

Flicking back a drapery, his escort verbally confirmed, “Mrs. Loren?” Then let it fall again, and gestured him to it, before briskly retracing the steps back to many waiting New Years Eve patients.

Slowing, his steps, Matt dragged the curtain open, finding Jules and Marc, both already staring in anticipation.  Initially, they must have been staring at that spot, because the guy had only confirmed her identity, then turned away without a word of explanation.  Yet as the moments ticked by, brother and sister assessed his presence with shock.  Jules looking as if she were not positive he was really there.  Launching from the chair, she hurled herself against him, and he sucked in a pained breath, gently putting an inch of distance between their bodies.

“Matt?!”  Pulling back, she stared down at his bandaged hand, and at the scrubs top he was now wearing in lieu of his charred shirt.  “You are—you are here...”  Glowing with relief, her eyes found his, and he reached with his good hand, tugging her head to him again.  When they separated once more, she stilled, and he realized until that point that she had been trembling.  “Your hand...”

“It's going to be fine honey.  It's messed up, but it could have been a lot worse.”

“How messed up?”

“Not very.  When you consider it's still all there, and it's going to heal up fine.”

The indecision was clear in her face, whether to ask more, but instead she asked, “So, are you released?  Can we go?”