Pie à la Mode | Luke Hemmings

Hospital

"I am not losing you. Luke Hemmings!" I snap, my voice desperate. I rub his cold hand as he looks at me with a blank stare. "Don't you dare die on me." Luke smiles again, and I lower my face to his. "I forbid you to leave me, Luke Hemmings," I say sternly, tears in my eyes. "You hear me? You are going to stay with me." Luke just breathes, looking into my eyes. I rub his hand again and kiss his forehead softly. "Just hang on, Luke," I whisper, trying to warm his ice-cold hand.

"Brit," he whispers.

"You're not leaving me. I already forbade you," I tell him sternly. I hear sirens in the distance and smile in relief. "You're going to be okay. The ambulance is almost here."

It all passes in a blur as they carry him into the ambulance, and questions are thrown around. I vaguely see the motorcycle rider being talked to. He barely has a scratch on him while Luke is at death's door. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm storming over to him.

"What do you think you're doing?" I snap at him. "You can't just run over Luke and not get a scratch on you. This is so unfair," I scream in his face, my anger boiling. I feel hands on me, and I'm being pulled away from the surprised man. "Let me go. He can't just sit there. He almost killed Luke. He might not make it!" I screech like a banshee as tears stream down my face.

"Miss, please calm down," I'm told by some paramedic, but I rip free from the hands that hold me and sprint into Luke's ambulance. I sit beside him, glaring at anyone who attempts to object to my presence. I grab Luke's hand, and he looks at me wearily.

"It's going to be okay," I tell him, brushing a blood-stained blond lock out of his dull blue eyes. We speed to the hospital, and I refuse to leave Luke's side.

"Miss, he needs to go into surgery. You can't be there," a woman tells me. I let go of his hand reluctantly. He gives me a little smile, trying to reassure me. He's going into surgery and I'm the one who needs reassurance. The irony.

"Luke..." I watch him get rolled away from me. I feel myself walk to a chair and sit down. I don't see anything in front of me. I can only see the motorcycle crashing into him, his bloodied face, and his pained eyes. I cover my face and cry. I don't know how much time has passed, but eventually, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up and see Luke's dad.

"Mr. Hemmings," I whisper as he pulls me up and envelops me in a hug. He has Luke's blue eyes and sandy blond hair. He lost his wife a few years ago to cancer, and Luke's all he's got. He looks so disheveled with his navy tie crooked and light blue dress shirt wrinkled.

"He'll be okay," he reassures me, but his voice breaks.

"I hope so," I reply softly as he rubs my back. We sit down, and after a while, Mom and Angie burst through the door.

"Brit!" they say in unison and hug me tight.

"Don't worry," Angie tells me, smiling, but it's obviously forced. It seems like an eternity before the doctor comes out into the waiting room. We all stand up, and he plasters a smile on his face.

"He's stable, but I'm sorry to say that he may never walk again," he says solemnly. "It would take a miracle."

My knees almost buckle under me, and Mom and Angie gasp. "What are his chances?" Angie asks softly.

"I'd say there's about a 5 to 10% chance he'll eventually walk," the doctor replies sadly. "If he gets feeling in his legs, there may be more of a chance."

"Is he still, umm... himself?" Luke's dad asks slowly, looking at the doctor.

"Yes," the doctor says.

"When—" my voice breaks, "when can we see him?"

"You can see him tomorrow when he wakes up," the doctor tells me.

"Thank you," Mom tells him, and he nods before leaving.

"I'm staying here," I say sternly.

"Of course," Mom agrees.

Luke's dad goes to buy some food, and Angie puts an arm around me. "I'm sorry," she tells me.

"Me, too," I reply, staring blankly into space. Luke's dad comes back and hands me a sandwich.

"Thank you." I look at the sandwich before unwrapping it slowly. I nibble on the edges, not having much of an appetite. We eventually settle down to sleep in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Tossing and turning all night, I barely get any sleep.

"Wake up," Angie shakes me.

"I wasn't asleep," I reply, getting up. "Can we see Luke now?"

"The doctor gave the us the okay sign," Mom confirms with a nod.

I walk quickly, ahead of everyone before arriving at Luke's room. I open the door, and he's already awake. His leg is in a cast and lifted up in a pulley, and his head is wrapped up, but he perks up a little when he sees me.

"Luke!" I exclaim, going in to hug him, careful not to hurt him.

"Brit." Luke grins, enveloping me in his warm arms. He kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear, "I love you."

"I—" I start to say.

"We're glad you're okay, Luke!" Mom exclaims suddenly, smiling brightly. I blush and look away, embarrassed.

"Thank you," Luke chuckles, but he looks at me with a pained face.