Stages Of Grief (S)

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TW: Character Death, Hospitals, ANGST and TEARS

It had happened so fast, but it had seemed an eternity. Sips had heard of the stages of grief, but he had never quite understood them until he experienced them himself.

Denial.

It was a prank. Surely, it was a prank gone too far. His buddies had finally crossed the line of what was appropriate to joke about, and he'd been their victim. Surely they had the influence to coax a total stranger into pretending to work at the hospital and have her call Sips with "bad news". He felt chills run along his spine, and he felt cold.

Anger.

Yelling at the woman on the phone hadn't helped anyone. She had expected it, as so many times before, which only furthered Sips' frustration. How dare she sit there all calm and understanding when she'd just made the worst joke in the world? As he raged at her, he felt his chest tighten, as if something was missing, as if someone had stolen his most vital organ.

Bargaining.

Once the doctor had convinced him she was not there to wind him up, he fell into complete silence. His previously shifting eyes had gone still; he felt unable to look away from an empty space on the wall; unable to blink. Once he got his voice back, he pleaded: "Are you sure it's him?" "Maybe you have the wrong number?" "Is there something I can do to help?" "I'll do whatever I can, just make sure he survives!"

The doctor could promise him nothing.

______________

Somehow, with his thoughts flitting about like mad, he managed to navigate through traffic and get to the hospital. Upon arrival he was greeted by a nurse, who asked him his business. He explained, and the nurse went to fetch the doctor he had spoken to on the phone.

Soon, Sips found himself in a small waiting room, with sofas, coffee available, little decorations on the walls and tables. Sips hated everything about the room. How dare it look so neat and inviting when he was sitting there, his hands shaking, being more miserable than he'd ever been?

He looked up as the door opened, and in came two women and a man. One of the women introduced herself as the doctor he had spoken to on the phone. She was as short and chubby as he was, with very short hair and plain appearance. He didn't notice much else, including her name. The other two, presumably nurses, didn't introduce themselves, but offered sympathetic smiles.

He didn't have the energy to sneer sarcastically at them.

The doctor explained to him what had happened: the patient had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time. His car had been totaled. The other driver had run into him, and nobody knew what else had happened, because the other driver was also at the hospital, knocked unconscious. The doctor turned to one of the nurses — the woman — and asked her to explain to Sips what would happen next.

The nurse's appearance distracted Sips a tad; she must have been a victim of some sort of accident. A fire? Acid? He knew better than to ask. She was very beautiful, even if her hands and arms were discoloured and smooth, and her right eye had a light blue pupil and a white iris. He shook himself back to reality, not wanting to miss out what she was telling him.

"—cranium fractured upon impact, little shards of the skull have embedded themselves into his brain. There is absolutely nothing we can do to get them out. But I want you to know what he felt nothing. He was knocked comatose instantly."

Reality had begun to dawn on him now.

Depression.

He closed his mouth and tried to keep back the tears, that forced their way through and streamed down his face. He dropped his head into his hands, gritting his teeth as the tears kept coming, his nose becoming stuffed with snot that threatened come through as well. Despite his best efforts there were whimpers and grunts escaping him, as he stared intensely as the floor.

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