Page 148 of Tiny Fractures

We all nod, and Frank gives us the thumbs-up before he quietly leaves the room. I turn my attention back to Ronan while the others chat.

“Man, I had no idea Ran had woken up until I got to the hospital with Shane this morning. If I had known, I would have called you guys immediately,” Steve tells us.

“We could tell something was different when we walked in,” Shane says. “Obviously, he’s not all bandaged up anymore, and for a second I thought that was it, but it’s also just the way he looks versus yesterday, you know. He’s in a slightly different position. He looks… more alive.”

“And then my dad just went, ‘Ran woke up.’ I thought he was trying to be funny for a second. Fuck, when Ran opened his eyes a little while later…” Steve trails off.

“Steve started to cry,” Shane continues, patting Steve’s back.

“I’m so fucking relieved,” Steve says, his voice cracking.

I nod because I completely share the sentiment. We all do.

***

I’m still holding Ronan’s right hand, tracing the lines on his knuckles, when his hand suddenly moves in mine, startling me. My eyes flit to his face and my heart leaps when I find him looking at me. The white of his left eye is blood-red, and although it’s alarming, the sheer fact that he’s finally awake floods me with relief.

“Hi,” I choke, tears spilling unhindered from my eyes.

Ronan lifts his right hand, and my eyes flutter shut as his thumb gently glides across my left cheek, wiping away my tears. I have missed his touch so incredibly much.

“Hey baby,” he says, his tired voice barely audible. It’s raspy and hoarse, I assume from the strain the intubation put on his vocal cords and from not speaking for almost a week. But that doesn’t matter. None of it does. He’s awake and talking to me right now, and it’s everything.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes searching mine, and I laugh through my tears. He’s the one in the ICU, but he’s asking me if I’m okay.

“I’m a lot better now. I’ve been so worried about you,” I say, holding his hand against my cheek, relishing his warmth against my skin. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

He considers my question for a few seconds and then gives me a minuscule shake of his head. “Not too bad right now. Just don’t make me cough or take a deep breath, because that shit hurts,” he says, and I lower both of our hands, letting his rest on the bed.

Vada and Tori join us on the other side of the bed. Ronan slowly turns his head to face them, wincing when he tries to shift his weight, hugging his broken hand to his battered chest.

“Easy!” Steve says, approaching from behind Vada and Tori, and Shane joins a moment later. Together, the two guys help Ronan adjust, slowly, allowing him to sit up more. He needs a minute to breathe through the pain that came with the change in positions. His eyes are shut tightly, brows furrowed and teeth gritted as he tries to manage the pain. Finally, he’s able to release the tension and he opens his eyes, trying to smile.

My heart breaks seeing him like this; I wish I could take all the pain away.

Ronan

I heard my dad’s voice. It was distant, like listening to someone when you’re under water. He was telling me to open my eyes, over and over again. And man, I had to fight like hell to come out of it. It felt like I was stuck in quicksand or mud; I don’t even know. But finally, I opened my eyes to near-total darkness and a ton of pain.

I had no idea where I was, no idea how I got here, no idea what was going on. I felt completely out of it. Thoughts of Cat and our night together clung to my consciousness, and at first I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what happened after I left her warm bed to head home. But then I became aware of the beeping and clicking of machines around me, the IV stuck in my right hand dripping some clear liquid into my veins, and then my dad, who was sitting next to me, holding my hand, talking to me. It confused me because I didn’t remember him being home. There was a nurse by the foot of my bed, and slowly it dawned on me that I was in the hospital—and why.

The memories came rushing back as though a fucking dam broke, and for a second I wished to be pulled into unconsciousness again. But then the doctor came and told me I had been out for six days. He rattled off my injuries, which certainly explained all the pain and why it felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. He kept talking to my dad, then asked me some questions, like whether I knew what had happened—of course I did—and what level my pain was on a scale of one to ten.

I tried to pay attention, but my brain felt foggy, and even though I had been out for close to a week I had never felt more exhausted in my entire life. Honestly, my body felt like I got hit by a freight train. Only a few minutes later the nurse gave me a pretty good cocktail of what I assume were pain meds, because I passed out pretty quickly again.

They’ve continued giving me strong pain meds through the IV in my right hand and I’ve been in and out of it for the past twelve hours, my brain foggy and slow. I’m barely able to keep my eyes open for more than about ten minutes before drowsiness overtakes me. I wake up here and there, wishing to shift my position, but the pain quickly reminds me that I’m completely immobile. I try to take advantage of the few, short awake phases and ask my dad questions, but he treads lightly in his answers. I can tell he doesn’t want to upset me, but I need to know.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked my dad at some point before sunrise. I wasn't sure if he knew why I was in the hospital, why I was so damn hurt, why I had been unconscious for six days. In case he didn't, I better watched what I disclosed.

“She was arrested,” he said, his eyes locked on me, his face soft while the nurse prepared my IV meds.

I didn’t know what to say; I was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. She was arrested? Fuck, so someone knows what she did to me. The full extent of it or just the last time she beat me? Does that mean it’s over? Is there a chance she’ll be released, a chance she’ll punish me?

My dad must have sensed the anxiety rising within me. “Buddy, you’re safe now. I promise,” he said. “She can’t hurt you anymore.”

I want to believe him, I really do, but I’m not so sure I can.

***

---