Authors Note: this fanfiction will contain a mixture of first and third person pov's. The pov will remain in third person until Sam wakes up, and then its mostly first person.
Second authors note: idk whats going on with the chapters starting really close to the chapter selection bar, I've tried fixing it but it didn't work so you may have to bear with it.
Everything felt like nothing. Seconds blurred into minutes and the whiteness of the walls was blinding. Kent felt like he was glued to the chair, thawing in his damp clothes and staring blankly at signs on the walls and hearing all the sounds around him merge into one deafening noise, causing his blood to roar even louder in his ears and pain to throb in his temples on top of the aching in his chest. He felt as if he wasn't really there, numb, like he was watching the scene from an above angle, or on a television screen. He didn't feel real, like he was still right there, kneeling on the cold wet road and stroking her bleeding face in the pouring rain, trying so hard to keep it together in the ambulance when the paramedics said they'd lost her. He was replaying the gruesome moment over and over again, when her body hit the road with a sickening thump.
Sam had been rushed straight to theatre when they arrived, the doctors knew that if they didn't they would lose her for good, like they almost did on the way over. It was all Kent could think about, how he'd have no idea how she was for hours, whether she was even alive right now. That he'd have to call her parents and tell them, tell them their daughter might not even make it off the operating table, the thought brought a lump to Kent's throat so thick that he felt like he couldn't breathe. Kent's cheeks were wet, and he was unsure whether it was rain or tears. How? How could that have happened? How would he be able to survive the next few hours without going insane? With Sam on the operating table and Juliet being assessed he was completely alone, left to wait for a scrap of news and replay the past half hour over and over again.
Juliet winced as the nurse examined her wrist, biting down on the inside of her cheek as pain raced through it and shot up her arm. She managed to concentrate long enough to hear that the nurse thinks she's sprained it, confirming her own suspicions, and that they want to monitor her to see if she displays any signs of hypothermia. She'd been shivering constantly since they arrived, a combination of shock and change of temperature. The moments in the ambulance and after felt surreal, like she wasn't actually living them. She never intended to be. She could barely process the fact it wasn't over, that someone had saved her at the last minute and she would go on to live another day, filling her with pain and exhaustion.
As soon as they had decided that she needed to be assessed they made her change into a hospital gown, ensuring that she was out of her soaking wet clothes as quickly as possible. She sat there while they did the examination, staring vacantly at the wall in front of her as they cleaned away the wet mud that caked her face and wiped over the grazes that covered her hands and jaw. She just wanted it to be over, she didn't want to be here, and now the thought of having to face another day with people knowing what she'd tried to do felt even more unbearable. At least the hospital didn't know, not yet. She could cling to those precious minutes while they lasted, while the only person who knew somehow lay unconscious on an operating table.
After the assessment Juliet was brought out to Kent, who sat in a small chair in the waiting area looking about as dazed as she felt. The nurse explained to Kent that they were taking her to a room to monitor her, as she was showing potential signs of mild hypothermia, and he nodded in agreement, then returned to waiting for Sam's parents, his stomach sinking lower and lower as each minute passed.
Once in her own room the nurses tried to talk to Juliet about the accident, but got nothing but tears and incoherent mumbling. The only thing they could make out was excessive repeating of the word no, and that 'she wasn't supposed to do that' 'she wasn't supposed to save me'. The nurses then talked to Kent about the accident and he told them everything he could remember, how Sam had claimed she needed to help someone and then took off, knowing exactly where to find Juliet before pushing her out of the road. The nurses then consulted and started to see a clearer picture on what had happened, and what wasn't being said. They concluded that they needed to keep their patient in to monitor risks much more severe than hypothermia.
The Sykes house was quiet, but Mrs Sykes was not asleep, how could she when her daughter wasn't even home yet. Every time she'd forgotten throughout the evening, assuming that Juliet was up in her room like usual something reminded her, making her feel guilty for ever forgetting in the first place. Still not back from the first party she'd been to in years at gone one in the morning without even a phone call, it was most uncharacteristic, and very unnerving, small worries kept digging into Mrs Sykes thoughts like someone had wedged a hammer in there that refused to be wrenched out. All of Mrs Sykes worries were confirmed when the phone shrilled through the house. She raced to pick it up, her heart hammering in her chest as she did. "hello." She murmured tentatively.
"Hello, Mrs Sykes?" the voice on the other end asked, sounding very professional. Mrs Sykes swallowed, nothing good ever came from professional sounding calls in the middle of the night.
"Yes, who is this?"
"I'm calling from Ridgeview city hospital," as soon as the words left the callers mouth Mrs Sykes heart sank like a stone thrown into a lake. "Your daughter was recently brought in."
"Juliet?" she stammered, desperately trying not to think the worst. Somewhere in the background her husband woke, grumbling about the noise and complaining about whoever was calling at gone one thirty in the morning.
"Yes ma'am, we're going to need you to come in as soon as possible." This did not sound good, it sounded like every parent's nightmare brought to life. Mrs Sykes hoped the person on the other end of the line couldn't hear her distressed whimpering.
"Is..." she could barely talk, barley think, every horrific possibility racing through her mind. "Is she okay?"
"Yes she's fine," the caller responded. Mrs Sykes let out a sigh of relief so heavy it felt as if her spirit had lifted out of her and then been sucked back in. "But we need to speak with you quite urgently." Mrs Sykes contained a cry of despair, at least they knew she wasn't severely injured, or worse. But that then bore the question of what was so urgent that they need to get to the hospital immediately.
"Alright, were on our way," She told the hospital caller, already putting on her shoes.
"What the hell was that all about?" her husband groaned rudely from behind her. She sucked in her frustration, knowing now was not the time for arguments.
"Juliet's in the hospital," She spluttered, groping around in the closet for a coat.
"What?" Mr Sykes exclaimed, a little too loudly for this time in the morning before slowly manoeuvring himself out of bed. While he did that she ran down the hall to her youngest daughter Marian's room, knocking delicately on the bedroom door.
"What mom?" Marian grumbled sleepily from under the covers of her bed.
"Your sister's in the hospital, we're leaving as soon as your father's ready," She explained, knowing even without seeing the look of panic that must be etched across Marian's face. She threw off her bed covers, speeding around her room for a pair of shoes.
"Mom, wait for me," she declared, pulling on a pair of uggs in total darkness and wrestling on her coat.
The drive to the hospital was unnervingly quiet, all the passing houses lights were off and there was hardly another car out on the road as the moon shone eerily above them. Mrs Sykes poured all her concentration into getting them to the hospital in one piece, her hands trembling as they gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles almost split through the skin. She's fine Mrs Sykes told herself over and over again as they passed green lights and other lone cars out on the road. She's fine, actual words the person on the phone had said. She didn't realise she's said them aloud until her husband questioned her.
"If she's so fine then why are we driving to the hospital at nearly two in the morning."
"They said there was something else. Something they need to talk to us about."
Nobody else spoke after that. Once they had arrived they went straight to the front desk where a nurse told them to wait until the fetched someone overseeing Juliet's care. When the woman finally arrived a deep knot formed in the pit of Mrs Sykes stomach as they were lead aside into a small office.
"Mr and Mrs Sykes," The nurse began, her face kind and not at all looking like she was about to be the bearer of bad news, which gave Mrs Sykes a sense of foolish hope.
"Is Juliet okay?" Mrs Sykes blurted immediately.
"Yes, she's fine." The nurse replied, a little too cheery for Mr Sykes liking.
"Then what happened?" he asked, with a tone too rude for professional discussion. He knew that if she truly was fine, then they would not have been pulled aside into some nurse's office.
"She was involved in a car accident," the nurse explained, deciding to add in the details when she saw the shocked looks on their faces. "It's nothing to worry about, she's suffered a sprained wrist and a few cuts and there might be a slight risk of hypothermia so we're going to keep her in overnight." The relief on Mrs Sykes and the younger sister's faces was obvious, Mr Sykes still didn't look convinced. "But that's not why you're here."
"Then why are we?" spat Mr Sykes. "What happened to our daughter?"
"Because the team overseeing those who were brought in from the accident site found something concerning when we spoke to the witness," The nurse explained. A sheet of dread fell over Mrs Sykes, her insides turning cold. The nurse took a deep breath and readied herself.
"Mr and Mrs Sykes," she said firmly. "A fellow student pushed your daughter out of oncoming traffic." She watched the slow realisation spread across the young girls face, the sister, while Mr and Mrs Sykes gaped at her, confused.
"What does that mean?" stammered Mrs Sykes.
"We think that your daughter might have been trying to take her own life."
"Oh my god," Gasped Mrs Sykes, one hand flying up to cover her mouth. Mr Sykes eyes went blank before his gaze fell to the floor, and their youngest daughter's eyes were wide, her lips parted with shock, even though the nurse could tell she knew what was going to be said before the words were even out of her mouth.
"Now, I have to ask you a few questions before I can take you to see her," The nurse informed them, trying to calm them down as much as possible. She questioned them on whether they found this news shocking, whether it seemed uncharacteristic for their daughter to do something like this and whether they had noticed any changes in behaviour or signs, and whether she had made any previous attempts, to their knowledge, which resulted in a confession from the younger daughter of finding a misplaced bottle of pills in their shared bathroom last month around the time their winter break was due to end, but at the time thinking it had been taken out of the medicine cabinet in search of something and was left out by mistake. After the nurse had questioned them, she informed them on what would happen to Juliet after the hospital released her before escorting them to her room.
Mrs Sykes opened the door first, being hit with a wave of heat as she crept into the room, then remembering what the nurse had said about hypothermia. The rest of the family filed in quietly, taking in the room around them. There was a chair in one corner and a sole bed in which Juliet lay, staring at the wall. She didn't even look at them when they came in, like she didn't know they were even there. It took one excruciating moment of silence before Mrs Sykes sped over to her daughter's bed, scooping her up and pulling her against her, running her thin fingers through Juliet's damp hair.
"Oh, baby," She whispered, mangled sobs getting caught against Juliet as she held her thin, cold body. Juliet made no attempt to move, just let her mother hold her while staring at the wall, like she couldn't pull her eyes away even if she tried. Her mother let go eventually, manoeuvring herself so she was perched on the edge of the bed, her father and Marian standing close behind her, tears streaming down Marians cheeks.
"Is what they're saying true?" her mother began, trying to retain her strong voice though it was obviously faltering, Juliet could hear the tell-tale quiver. "Did you try to-" she couldn't even say it.
In response Juliet could only cry.
Another distraught gasp escaped her mother's throat before she flung her arms around her again, sobbing into her hair. The two of them cried together, their bodies racking against each other in a steady rhythm. In the background she could hear Marian stifle more tears, her father shuffling on the spot. Juliet wasn't even sure why she was crying, but she supposed crying was better than saying the words out loud, it was about all she could manage as everything spiralled out of control around her. Eventually Marian joined them, Juliet felt more weight fall against her side, and caught the scent of her too sweet shampoo. Everything was a mess, control slipping through Juliet's fingers faster than water, and she was trying to cling to it desperately. Her family were never supposed to know, and now her guilt over them finding out felt like someone had injected lead into her veins, like someone had strapped a brick to her chest and thrown her underwater, like it was drowning her.
"It's going to be alright, everything is going to be alright," her mother stammered while stroking her wet hair and grazed face. She sounded half crazed with desperation. "We're going to get you help. We'll get you all the help you need, okay." Except it wasn't, but all Juliet could do was nod her head in agreement and pretend that everything wasn't happening. She was nowhere near ready for this reality.
The Kingston's hadn't been exactly unprepared for receiving a phone call in the middle of the night, but as Ellen Kingston groggily reached for the phone the realisation that something was very wrong crept in immediately.
"Hello," She mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
"Hello, Mrs Kingston?" the woman on the other end of the phone asked. This made Ellen force herself into attention, she could hear the underlying seriousness in their tone.
"Speaking. Who is this?"
"This is Ridgeview City Hospital, I'm afraid your daughter has been in a serious accident," The voice said, and suddenly the room had turned upside down.
"What?" she gasped, her mid racing with gruesome images of what could be meant by 'serious accident'. She pictured blood, rivers of blood clotting in her girl's hair, she pictured broken limbs with the bones splintering through. Everything occurred to her in that very moment where this stranger confirmed her fears that Sam was not okay.
"We need you to get down to the hospital immediately," The voice continued, but all Ellen heard was the blood pounding in her ears.
"Of course," She managed to spit out. "Can you tell us what happened?"
"All I can say is your daughter is currently in theatre, the rest will be explained on your arrival." Theatre, which means it's bad. She started stumbling out of bed, pushing her husband frantically to wake him.
"We'll be there right away," She confirmed, as her feet fell into the nearest pair of shoes, her husband groggily trying to make sense of the situation. She hung up the phone and continued getting ready, gently pulling Izzy out of bed before the three of them set off for the hospital.
"Mr and Mrs Kingston," They heard through the hum of noise from the night shift, but it was not a nurse's voice, it was a young boy's. They turned to find a young man standing in wet bloody clothes before them, his shaggy hair damp and curling into his eyes. They recognised him as one of Sam's old friends and fellow classmates.
"Kent, isn't it?" Mr Kingston asks, jostling Izzy against his shoulder to make her more comfortable as she slept.
"Yes. I'm so sorry," The boy choked out, which only unsettled them more.
"Why?" asked Mrs Kingston, desperation in her eyes.
"It's pretty bad, she's been hit by a car outside my house," Kent explained feebly, every ounce of dread and pain at the thought of this moment boiling to the surface, threatening to make him collapse right in front of them, or burst into tears.
"How serious?" asked Mr Kingston, worry and despair etched into every feature of his face. Kent felt both his heart and stomach drop to the floor, each breath painful in his throat as he prepared to deliver the news.
"She-"Kent whined, wondering how he was even still breathing. "She might not." Kent didn't even have to finish the sentence before the Kingstons turned to each other and let out devastating gasps, tears spilling down Mrs Kingston's face and welling in the corners of Mr Kingston's eyes. Kent wished it were him on that operating table, so that he wouldn't have to feel the pain of this moment, so tangible that it almost knocked him to the floor.
"Where's the nurse?" Mr Kingston asked. Torn with either comforting his distraught wife or keeping his youngest daughter asleep so she doesn't have to witness this.
"Front desk," Kent answered flatly before sitting himself down, watching them as the nurse explains the details to them, at least Kent was spared that conversation, he thought. Wondering whether or not he wanted to know the specifics of Sam's injuries, what parts of her they were cutting open in a frantic attempt to keep her alive. Kent didn't even notice when the Kingstons made their way back over, sitting down in the empty chairs beside him.
"Are you okay?" Mrs Kingston askes through sniffles, shifting a half-conscious Izzy into her lap.
"Fine. I only saw it happen," Kent deadpanned, like it was something he'd explained a million times and was sick of people asking him. Like it was committed to memory. "There was another girl involved but she only had minor injuries"
"Another girl?" inquired Mrs Kingston, her eyes now filled with concern for a girl that wasn't hers.
"Yeah, Sam pushed her out of the van's way," Kent told them. Mr and Mrs Kingston then exchanged a glance, like they wanted to consider this information together. From the looks on their faces they could tell they must have thought this a good thing, because something changed. A hint of pride hung underneath the worry. Kent swallowed painfully.
"I think you should know that they," he began, each breath feeling like knives down his throat. "They lost her a few times in the ambulance, but were able to bring her back." Mrs Kingston let out a quiet gasp, but then took a moment to let it sink in and returned to normal, or whatever could be called normal in this situation.
"Oh it's all so awful," She wailed, clutching hold of Izzy's sleeping form like someone was desperately trying to take her, like one daughter just wasn't enough.
"I'm really sorry that you're going through this," Kent repeated, each word sounding agonising as it left his lips.
"Thank you," Mrs Kingston whispered, and they then begun preparing themselves for the long morning ahead of them.
It was several hours later, after some uncomfortable napping on chairs that Kent and the Kingstons were fully updated on Sam's condition. She'd been put in a coma after they managed to reduce the bleeding and swelling in her brain, and she had a few broken ribs and a the bones in one leg had almost shattered from the knee down, but that would be worried about once she came out of the coma, if she ever came out of the coma. Juliet was kept overnight, and showed no signs of hypothermia but was to be monitored constantly until a temporary place for her at a psychiatric facility could be arranged. The Kingstons drove Kent to theirs where he slept on their couch, desperate to put those hours behind him, and thankful when he drifted off into a heavy sleep.
Thank you for reading!