Paper Hearts [Brallon-ish]

151 days

"I have no idea where the hospital is," I yelled to the back in hopes of receiving some directions. Ryan probably knew the way to the emergency center, considering one of his parents was a first responder. Well at least I hoped he did.

"Just head straight through like 5 intersections and you literally can't miss it." He told me, ripping a piece of medical tape with his teeth and wrapping it around Brendon's hand. I wasn't really the best in the medical field, but I really hoped it was applied on top of some gauze to stop the blood from gushing all over Patrick's seats.

"On a scale of 1-10, 10 being it feels like it's about to explode and 1 being it doesn't hurt at all, how bad does your arm hurt?"

"Haha, jokes on you Ryro. I can't feel a thing."

"Like... You can't feel your arm at all?"

"Yep." Brendon grinned proudly at himself when I checked the mirror, and Ryan looked dead inside. He stared at the mirror with a look of utter disappointment and mouthed 'drive faster'.

When we got there, the parking lot was nearly full and it took a couple minutes to even find a parking lot the shortest distance away from the ICU, and I was reminded of the time in kindergarten when I'd broken my foot trying to carry a chair across the kitchen and the doctors had to carry me from the car because we couldn't find a spot to park. Eventually I swerved into a slot before another car could steal it, and Brendon loosely screamed 'woohoo' from the back seat. His cheer was followed by Ryan yelling "keep your arm still, you stupid idiot"

Brendon insisted he get picked up and carried on my back for the distance from the car to the ICU front doors, and the only reason he got what he wanted was because he gave me puppy dog eyes and it was a proven fact nobody can resist puppy dog eyes.

"You love him too much, Dallon." Ryan laughed and tried to keep up with my giant steps.

"Yeah, I guess I do."

..:..::..:::..::..:..

"Urie?" A guy in a white lab coat pushed open the door, squinting down at a clipboard in his hands. He looked like he'd been run over with a bus a couple times and then sent to work a 24 shift at the emergency room.

"That's my name, don't wear it out I don't wanna lose it." Brendon sighed and sat up, leaning into my side and shutting his eyes. They'd given him anesthetics when he started complaining that his arm was on fire and that it was literally going to explode. Ryan had been filming the entire visit after the medicine hit his system, because he said whenever someone was administrated the drug they acted loopy for a couple hours and that it was the best thing ever to watch.

The doctor smiled halfheartedly, hanging a few X-rays on the wall over a light box. He addressed Ryan as the one who'd follow his line of thinking, and kept pointing out distinguishing features that led to his broken wrist and staples stuck in his hand. They kept exchanging big words that I couldn't figure out or explain to Brendon when he whispered "what's that" with childlike wonder, because I had absolutely no idea what in the world they were even saying.

"It's stuck in the proximal phalanx?" Ryan narrowed his eyes, standing up to get a better look at the diagram of Brendon's hand. "It looks like it barely missed it. Even on his hand the staple is to the left side of the bone." No wonder he was planning on going to medical school.

The doctor shrugged and plucked the sheet from the wire to examine it closer. He moved his glasses to the tip of his nose and squinted more than he had before (which I didn't think was possible) and hung it back up with an impressed smile.

"I guess you're right. The procedure will be much simpler then."

Ryan smirked, impressed with himself, and sat back down next to the table I was sitting on. Brendon sighed and compared his hands, eyes lingering on the staples stuck in the left one.