Open When...(Paul Walker Fanfiction)

Letter #1: Open When...You Receive These

Normally she would argue with me, but this time she just nods. "Well, it's nine o'clock. Do you want to go by yourself or do you you want me to go with you?"

Support would be nice, but I should see him by myself. "I'll go," I mumble, slowly getting up.

The look of concern on her face is clear. "He's in room three in the ICU wing."

I nod and walk down the hallway, using the side rails to keep myself up. The second I see him, I know that I will probably collapse in tears. I need to be strong, but being strong is already proving to be a difficult task. How am I going to put on a brave face for everyone when I feel like I'm dying inside?

Turning the corner into the ICU, I get several looks of pity from nurses. They know who I am and who I am here for. One of them sees how dependent I am on the rails, and she comes over to help me to Paul's room.

When we are standing in front of his room, I tense up. The curtain is pulled, blocking the view inside. The nurse asks me if I'm okay, and I tell her I am. I have a feeling that I'm going to be doing that for a while.

She pulls the sliding door open, and I pull the curtain back a little bit so I can walk inside. Once I am in, I pull it back just as the door is pulled to. For a couple of minutes, I avoid looking at the bed. Just the sound of all of the machines makes this situation even more real.

I take a deep breath, collecting myself before I turn around. Slowly, I turn to face my husband. As each second passes, my heart breaks even more. There are so many wires and tubes connected to him. Even though he is in a coma, I wonder if he can feel how much pain he is in. That thought alone sends me back against the wall, gripping the side rail. I use my free hand to muffle the cries coming out of my mouth.

This is so much harder than I thought it would be. I look up at him again. He looks as if he's sleeping. That's a more comforting thought than what the reality is. I make my way over to him slowly and sit down on the bed, careful not the touch any wires. I hope and pray that all they are doing will bring him back to me.

I grab his hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it softly. There has never been a time when I've seen him so fragile besides now. It's like he's a porcelain doll, threatening to break at any moment. I can't bring myself to look at any other part of him besides his face. There are several bruises, along with a piece of gauze covering the left side of his jaw.

The steady rise and fall of his chest is almost soothing, until I notice the ventilator that is next to his bed. Oh, God. This is so bad. If he needs a machine to breathe for him, what are the chances of him making it?

Damn it, Sierra, stop thinking about that! I don't need statistics to tell me the chance of him coming back to me and our family. My husband is so strong, and so is our love. Yes, we had a fight right before the accident, but our love is strong enough for him to pull through this. When he does, I will never leave his side again. We will never have another fight, only tons of kisses and mumbling I love you's.

Someone clears their throat behind me, and I turn to see a doctor standing there. There isn't a smile on his face, but it doesn't concern me in the slightest. To smile at a moment like this would be rather inappropriate. "Doctor," I mumble, shaking his extended hand.

"Hello, Mrs. Walker. I'm Dr. Geralds, the ICU doctor on duty. Your husband's surgeon isn't in at the moment, but he will be by to see you when he comes in." He's very polite, but I'm too numb at the moment to do anything besides nod. He takes a seat next to the bed so I have a clear view of him without having to turn around. "Your husband's injuries weren't as bad as we thought when we first brought him in, to say the least."