Different || Merome

Different

"i...i don't remember a plane crash, jerome." mitch looked up to meet his best friends eyes.

"the doctors said you might suffer some head trauma. when you were pulled from the wreckage you were beat up pretty badly..." mitch's mother made her way forward and jerome abandoned his spot on the bed so she could sit down. she placed a gentle hand on his cheek and ran her thumb across his cheek bone lightly. "oh my poor baby...when i saw you after surgery, i never want to see that again..." mitch placed his hand over his mother's, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on Jerome who had moved to the foot of the bed.

"how long was i out?" mitch asked jerome. his voice was slowly getting easier to use, but it was still raspy and made mitch cringe.

"about three months...listen, mitch. there's something you need to know, Team Crafted, it-"

"not now, jerome." mitch's gaze went to his mother who had turned to glare at his best friend, her tone hard. "he just woke up, he doesn't need that right now too."

"he deserves to know, it was his team too-"

"and he will know! just not right after he came out of a coma!"

"hey!" mitch interrupted. the room stilled, and the nurses who had been trying to calm his mother and jerome backed off as the two froze. "what happened to Team Cracted, Jerome?" mitch asked when he was sure everyone's focus was on him.

"mitch-"

"the team split up." mitch felt a stab of fear go through his heart, and it suddenly felt as if there were fifty elephants sat on his chest. "everything was tense after you got in the plane crash, more than it had been after Seto and...fights just started happening, and there was no way to fix anything. i'm so sorry mitch." the canadian shook his head, letting it fall into his hands as he tried to process what jerome had just told him. he vaguely heard one of the nurses ask his family to leave, but he didn't even respond as they all slowly filtered out of the room.

"mr. hughes, i'm doctor fields."

-

head trauma. broken ribs and a broken leg. road burn. inhalation issues. the list went on and on. mitch couldn't really believe he had survived as he went through the list of his injuries. of course, he didn't really know what some of them were and in the months he had been in a coma most of the fractures in his leg, right arm and ribs had healed and his breathing had been fixed during surgery as well. but still, there were a number of things on the list he wondered about, about wether or not they would ever be fixed, about wether or not he could be fixed.

mitch let his head fall to rest in his hands. what was he supposed to do now? while he had been out team crafted had split up, something had caused a rift between jerome and his family and he didn't know if he would ever be normal again. the past few hours passed slowly as doctors and nurses ran tests, some on his memory, but most on his healing body. around nine the doctors finally packed up for the night. they bid mitch a good nights rest and informed him they would return the next morning for the last of their tests and to give him and his family the results. he wished he could just go home.

as soon as the doctors were gone jerome was at his bedside once again. when he asked about his family, jerome told him they had gone home and would be back tomorrow as well. when mitch asked jerome if he was going to go home, jerome just shrugged and settled back into the plastic chair. mitch said nothing about it, but he was grateful for the company. they sat in silence for hours scrolling through their phones. mitch had had many tweets directed at him, most wishing him well and hoping he'd get better soon. he liked a few of them, and sent out a tweet telling everyone that he had just woken up and would try and get out a video as soon as possible. the instant the tweet had sent out the flood of messages he got from friends overwhelmed him, but he managed to answer them all. adam and all the team crafted guys told him how happy they were he was back, but none of them mentioned the split of their group and honestly, mitch didn't want to either. it was too new, the wound too fresh to talk about. so he avoided the topic, choosing instead to banter back and forth with the guys until he got tired. when he glanced over at jerome he found him asleep, head tilted to the side in what mitch could only assume was a very uncomfortable position. mitch chuckled and shook his head before sitting his phone on the nightstand beside him and clicking off the light. he laid back down, arms crossed over his chest as he stared into the now black void of the room. as he lay there, he thought about the plane crash. about the people who had died, the people who had survived. how many other people had been on that plane with him? how many innocent children? babies? mitch groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his fists into his eyes, willing the dark thoughts to leave his mind.