The Dream Before the Dark ✓

05 | Under Pressure

JEN FORGOT ALL ABOUT DEAN HOLLOWAY the second she flung herself out of his car and ran towards the doors under the sign labeled EMERGENCY ROOM, a bright red light that pierced the night fog.

Her heart was racing, her blood pumping through her veins so hard they felt like they might burst. And for a moment, when the fluorescent lights of the hospital momentarily blinded her, she thought that perhaps they had – that this world of white was the afterlife.

But then her eyes adjusted to her environment and she heard a strangled noise that she recognized as her own voice, though it did not sound like her at all, crying out.

"My mom, I need to see my Mom-"

She felt a pair of hands – Dean's hands – rest on her shoulders and try to steady her, his voice explaining (only slightly less frantically than her own) to the hospital staff why they were here, about the call they had received. But though any touch from him would have sent fire dancing across her skin only half an hour ago, there was no room in her heart for romantic affection now. The only flames blazing their path through her were ones of fear. There was something wet on her face– sweat? Oh. No, it was tears. She was crying. It was tears.

What followed was a blur. Later, Jen would dimly recall being ushered into a seat, her body trembling as she sank into it. Various doctors and nurses fluttered to and fro like birds departing from and returning to a nest, only offering her brief fragments of information at a time.

"Car accident–"

"Trying to get her stable–"

"We're not sure–"

"Part of the brain that affects memory–"

"Where is my dad?" she had demanded.

"On his way-"

"He wasn't with her–"

But what was she doing in Chicago? She should have been at home with him. She should have been with Dad.

None of the doctors knew the answer to that.

Maybe she had come to surprise her daughter? But why would she be out driving past midnight?

Knowing nothing was maddening and Jen must have looked like a madwoman herself, trembling like a frightened animal. She was barely aware of Dean, pale as a ghost, in the seat next to her. She was pretty sure she looked over at him once and pitied that he had to sit there with her, but when she tried to form any words for him, what came out of her throat was sobs.

But then she heard Dad's voice calling her name, the sound of his footsteps as he rushed over to her, his crying daughter. The hug he gave her then was the last truly comforting gesture she would receive from him for a long, long time, and it only got to last for what felt like a few seconds before one of the doctors suddenly reappeared.

"Jonathan Adler?" he asked, looking stoic yet also uncomfortable in a way that doctors usually didn't.

Dad gave a solemn nod.

"Could I speak to you in private?"

Jen's fingernails dug into her palms as she shot her father a pleading look. Don't leave me. Please don't leave me.

When he saw her, he was reluctant to leave her. He hesitated, then cleared his throat quietly. And when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly steady.

"Whatever you need to tell me about Margaret, you can say it in front of our daughter."

The doctor still looked grim. "I really think it would be best if we could talk alone."