H2O | ✔

Chapter Twelve : Out of Sync

On the ride home, I turned on Twenty One Pilots. I'd just discovered them, and I was obsessed. They were like this awesome combination of Ed Sheeran with the fast talking and MCR and possibly even a hint of Vance Joy in some songs. Yes, I did like Ed Sheeran. I was a very emotionally in touch guy. And constantly got teased for it.

"She asked me,'Son, when I grow old, will you buy me a house of gold?'" I yelled at the top of my lungs, top down and wind running through my hair. It was the closest thing to flying that I'd ever experienced.

When I pulled into the driveway, I could feel that something was wrong. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was off.

I walked in the door of my house to complete chaos. My dad was screaming into the phone and my mom was pacing in the living room with tears running down her face.

I pulled my mom into a hug, asking,"What happened? Is everything all right?"

Obviously, everything was not all right. Something was very wrong, but I had no idea what.

Did someone die? Was it Grandma Judy? Or Grandma Annie? What if it was one of my cousins? Or aunts? Or uncles? What if it was one of my brothers?

So many thoughts were racing through my head that I almost didn't hear my mom when she said,"It's Ryan."

My heart dropped.

Was my brother dead? But he'd just gotten his first boyfriend.

My voice choked as I asked the only question I had,"Is he...Is he alive?"

I felt my mom nod in my arms and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding in.

My next thought was, If he's alive, then what's wrong?

But I knew that asking would only further upset my mom, who looked to be on the brink of a meltdown.

I heard my dad hang up the phone before he walked into the living room and leaned against the wall in exhaustion.

"We're going to the hospital. Ryan's been in a car accident. He's in a medically induced coma so that his body can heal properly." He said it like it was another day at work and someone had just messed up and looked to him to fix it. It was so tired but matter-of-fact that I knew my dad must be hurting, too. He only ever sounded like that when he was worrying.

I nodded, once again refraining from asking the many things on my mind. There was a time to get answers and this was not it.

The whole way to the hospital, none of us said a word. The only sound was the quiet hum of the engine whenever my dad pushed the gas pedal.

As we pulled up to the front doors, I looked out to see families and doctors milling around, looking hopeless. I wondered if any of them were in the same boat as me. If they were waiting to hear whether their brother or sister or mom or dad would live.

My mom sat in one of the hard plastic hospital chairs while my dad checked in. He came back fairly quickly and we were headed to the ICU.

There was so much beeping in there that I thought my head would explode. It seemed like everyone's heart was on a different wavelength, following a different pattern than the next. How could so many people be so out of sync? I didn't understand how not even one pair, one couple, seemed able to match up.

I wondered if Mesi and I would match up.

We walked down the hall until we saw him. Ryan was lying in a bed, white sheets pulled up around him, an IV stuck in his arm, monitors and wires and screens all in different angles facing his lying figure. He looked so peaceful that for a moment I thought it might be better that way, if he could stay in a nice sleep for the rest of his days so that he would never again have to deal with the terrible things that being alive and awake brought. Then I realized that I was just being weird and that Ryan would never want that and immediately erased the thought from my brain.

My parents took the seats on either side of Ryan's bed, so I sat in the only other chair there was—in the corner.

It was fine. I liked being able to observe them all at once. I felt like if I could tell what they were each feeling, maybe I could figure out what to do about it. Maybe I could help.

My mom was a reck, blubbering over Ryan's hand and not even bothering to wipe away the tears. I'd never seen her cry like that before.

For the first time in the existence of the world, my dad's features were soft. I could see the concern and worry in his eyes. He looked like a real parent, a parent that really cared.

None of it helped. I could see their feelings clearly on their faces—my mom distraught and my dad worrying about the worst that could happen—but the only conclusion I could come to was that there was nothing I could do for them. Unless, of course, I could magically wake up my brother and make him whole again.

Trust me, I would've if I could've.

I cleared my throat and both my mom and dad looked up at me in surprise as if they'd forgotten I was there. They probably had.

"I'm going to get some air," I announced.

They nodded. The way they turned back to my brother told me they didn't care what I did. I didn't blame them, Ryan was much more important at the moment.

But I couldn't be in there with all those beeps and machines and IV drips anymore. I couldn't take it; I was going to start screaming if I heard another heart monitor start up, relaying the beating of another heart.

I wasn't sure exactly where I was going, since I hadn't been in that hospital since I was a little kid and fell down the stairs. I had to get stitches and broke my right arm, but nothing serious.

It was a far cry from what was going on at the moment. What was happening was on the opposite side of the universe from inconsequential broken arms.

I only realized where I was when I noticed the cool wind hitting my face. I was on the roof. How I'd made it up there, I didn't know. All I knew was that my feet seemed to sense what I needed better than I did.

I leaned over the edge to watch the people far below. There were so many of them, and none of them knew what was happening with my brother. None of them knew that he was in a coma and might never wake up.

He had to wake up, right?

The door I figured I'd used minutes before swung open behind me.

"Sam? Are you okay?"

It was Graham, my brother's boyfriend.

He shouldn't have been comforting me. I should've been comforting him. He was the one who just met my brother. He was the one who'd had so little time to love him.

I nodded slightly.

Graham seemed to know that I didn't want to talk so he didn't either.

The two of us just stood on the edge of the roof, peering down to the people below and wishing we were as ignorant as them.

A/N: Whoop! Whoop! We've reached 2K reads! I mean, the reads aren't the important thing, you guys are, but the reads tell me that you guys actually care about this book--and that's what I care about. If you don't like it, that's okay, I would never hold it against you, but for the people who continue to read and enjoy my writing, thank you. You are what makes it all worthwhile. Wow, that probably sounded really cheesy. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you amazing people again for being so supportive. It always makes my day to see that someone voted to commented on one of my stories. So...yeah...thanks. I just made that awkward, didn't I? Well, I'll leave you to whatever you're doing/about to do and I wish you luck with whatever it is!