The sound of people rushing in and out the room caused Clayton ears to sear with horror. It didn't any better that the white surrounding him made his eyes bleed. He watched as the reader that was attached to his body moved up and down with every breath. He was alive, he didn't know how, he didn't know why, but he was alive.
"You awake over there?" The voice caused a wave of relief to flood Clayton's body, but he dared not to look over. Instead, he just gave a slight nod before directing his attention back to his heart monitor. "Thank god, you were out for a long ass time."
"You passed out before me." After his words, the room around them seemed to engulf the silence. For a while, Clay thought that he'd gotten to Nathan. He didn't know whether to apologize, or to leave the other in peace. For a while, it was like that… until Nathan himself broke the silence.
"Y'know… I've been thinking a lot. About my… existence," His voice sounded clouded, yet clear from anything that might've happened earlier. Even though Clayton couldn't see it, he knew that Nate wore a smile on his face. "I've been thinking about Hal.. and why we split up in the first place. I've been thinking about Char- and everything else." As he spoke, Thoughts of the past only reminisced in the other head.
Truth was, he never got close to Haliya. Never tried. One random day of Junior year, Nathan talked about how he loved this woman, next he talked about dating, and then marriage. He remembers going to the gender reveal party, but he never thought too much about it. Next thing you know, he's talking about a divorce. What did happen to them? Did they not like being with each other that bad?
"Do you miss her?" Clayton felt the awkwardness that waved through the room. Did he? Clayton never knew what divorce felt like, for as long as he could remember, it was him and Yas. of course they disagreed, but divorce was never on either of their minds. At least not on his. Nathan opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately interrupted by the sound of creaks.
The person that emerged from the door was a man in his late fifties, Clayton tried his best to grasp everything there was about this person. From his unironed white coat to his name card which obviously needed to be updated. Jarod Mason. In his photo, his hair was a nice black and slicked back with gel, compared to now where his hair has obtained some salt to his pepper. His eyes wore bags made of steel around his dark brown that gave them color. For a man in his fifties he didn't look too bad, but for a doctor… he needed work.
"Oh great! I thought I heard another voice. How are you?" After he received a decent response he proceeded to tell the two everything. From their blood pressure to the incident itself. Apparently, the driver that hit them, Mike Davis, brakes gave out mid turn which caused a hell of a collision. As he spoke, Clayton couldn't help, but find that name familiar. Mike Davis? He could have sworn he's heard that before. Was it from high-school, college? Who was he?
"Hey Clay!" The sound of Nathan's voice seized his attention. "Isn't that Meekly from high school?" Pretending like it was his own original thought, Clayton nodded. Meekly Davis was known as the most useless person in the ROTC. When he first joined, it was rumored that he could lift up more than ninety five pounds. For the next few weeks he was subjected to a multitude of bullying. People shoving their bags on top of him, people laughing when it was his turn to lift anything. After a while, the torment slowly faded, but he still wanted attention. He would say things to get someone to laugh at him, he would purposely fail at things so the torment would eventually arise again. It never did though. In the end, he was alone.
At first, Clayton felt sorry for him. He was picked on for trying, yet demonized for giving up. He reminded him of Pharaoh. Always being alone, always plastering a look of help. But now… he didn't remind him of Pharaoh. He reminded him of Nathan. Laughing and smiling when they knew things were okay. Always craving attention at any given moment. But why? Why did Nathan act like that? Meekly wanted attention. He wanted someone to acknowledge his presence one last time, but Nathan? He didn't need any attention. He was popular. Everyone knew who he was. So why? It just didn't make sense.
Still a part of him festered with anger. Brakes not working, right. Knowing him he was probably drinking and messed up on a turn. Since graduating, Meekly has never not taken the opportunity to drink alcohol. Mostly, you could see him all over Instagram with a bottle of vodka and cigarettes.
"Brakes, my ass." After that he began to steady himself on the bed a little bit. Even though the pain still surged through his leg, it was nothing like before. Instead of having the room in silence, Dr. Mason raised his hand in objection.
"I'm sorry Mr. Plowe," The man began to go on and on about how Clayton wasn't anywhere near ready to be released. His legs were slightly fractured and not to mention the bandage on his wrist. They had to check for any head trauma and make sure the collision didn't leave any lasting effects. As he spoke, Clayton could feel the prying eyes of Nathan glaring into him. But in the end, it was his choice whether to leave or not. And he needed to. He needed to find some way to help. Some way to help Yasmine, some way to help everyone else that's suffered from that woman's grasp. As he shivered to himself, he felt the warm grasp of Nathan's fingers on his shoulder.
"Maybe we should stay here for the night. It can give them time to check us and we can rest while they run tests." To be honest, his words sounded nice. Finally resting. Waiting until it was morning to finally see what the world had out there. Heck, it wasn't like they had a car. From what Mason explained. Their car was hauled to a shop awaiting insurance and repairs. And knowing Meekly, that was never coming. Instead of giving a direct answer, Clayton only walked away from the door. Leaning his body on the hospital bed he once awoke from.
"I hope Yas is doing better than we are."