Chapter Text
“Thanks Bobby, you’re a prince,” Luke said as he flung his guitar and backpack into the back seat, then clambered into the passenger side.
Bobby tilted his head. “Not a big deal to pick you up.”
“It’s one a.m.,” Luke said, though he was warmed right through by Bobby’s words.
“And you’re my best friend,” Bobby said, like that was the end of it. “Buckle up.”
“There’s no one on the road,” Luke whined. Having things constricting him, like seatbelts and socks and sleeves was the worst.
Bobby glared at him. “You’re not gonna die on my watch.”
Luke smirked and did up his seatbelt. “Glad to know you care.”
Bobby started the car and pulled away from the curb. He’d parked half a block away from Luke’s house so there was no chance his parents would be woken by the motor. “It’s not you I care about. It’s your soulmate.”
“My soulmate?” Luke laughed. His hand went to the pretty, loopy cursive down his right side that glided from under his arm to the bottom of his ribcage. “Dude, I’m probably not gonna meet her for years!”
Bobby raised his eyebrow. “Which is why I need to keep you alive. For your soulmate, duh.”
“Good point.” Luke settled back against the seat, watching the houses as they passed. It was Christmas break and the neighbourhood was festooned with lights and decorations for the season, making it look like a Hallmark movie about a sleepy little town instead of a bustling city. Los Angeles never slept, and as soon as they hit a main drag the city would once again be full of lights and sound and people. But right now, driving through his neighbourhood, it was like he and Bobby were the only two people left on a Christmas-themed Earth.
“So, what happened?” Bobby asked after they’d driven a few minutes in silence.
“Same shit, different day.” Luke sighed. “You know my parents.”
“Mitch is a pretty hard case,” Bobby agreed. “But Emily just wants you to be okay.”
”I am okay! I’m okay playing music! But she just doesn’t get it.”
Bobby glanced at Luke. “Just give her time. She’ll come around.” He stopped at the intersection.
Luke shook his head. “No, she won’t. She’s just like my dad. They don’t believe in our music, Bobby. They don’t believe in me. Their idea of 'okay' is me going to school and working some fucking office job! They just don’t get it.”
“She’ll come around,” Bobby repeated. “But… maybe you guys being apart for a while is a good thing.”
“It’s a great thing!” Luke slapped the dashboard. “I already feel like I can breathe better!”
Bobby smirked. “You won’t feel like that after you’ve inhaled all the dust in our garage.” The light changed to green and they started across the intersection. “My dad hasn’t—”
Luke had a split second to register the truck barrelling towards them before it hit. There was a terrible screech of metal crashing into metal. His head slammed into the passenger side window.
Everything went black.
“Are you sure you’re up to this, mija?” Julie’s aunt asked.
They were standing by the nursing station in the ICU of Maria Stark Memorial Hospital. Julie hadn’t been there for well over nine months, and there was part of her that had hoped she’d never have to be there again. But she loved her aunt, and her aunt loved the hospital where she worked, so there Julie was.
Julie nodded, fingering the edge of her blue volunteer apron. “I want to help out. Like those other volunteers did for my mom.”
“I know you do, cariña. But you don’t have to.” Victoria smiled gently. “Especially if it’s too hard?”
Julie puffed out a breath. “It is hard, being here. But everything’s been hard since… I just want to do something, worthwhile.”
Victoria nodded her understanding. “Well, I know the patients will be happy to have your company. Come.” So saying, she led Julie down the short hallway to one of the patient rooms. The rooms were square, with huge glass windows and a glass door, giving the medical staff an easy view of the patient resting inside. It was futuristic and somewhat cold, and reminded Julie of looking at a fish in a bowl.
Victoria led her into the first room and brought her over to the side of the bed. A man about her dad’s age was lying there, like he was asleep. There was a breathing tube coming out of his mouth and several lines and wires attached to different parts of his body. “Hello, Mr. Cohen,” Victoria said even though the man wasn’t even remotely conscious. “It’s me, Victoria, your nurse. I have a new volunteer with me today. Her name’s Julie and she’s going to keep you company. I’m going to tell her a bit about you, okay?”
“You talk to them?” Julie whispered.
“All the time,” Victoria said. “They may be unconscious, but they can still hear. You reading to them, or talking to them, or—” and here she gave Julie a significant look, “—singing to them will mean a lot. Just like we did with Rose.”
Julie took a shaky breath. She and Carlos and her dad would hold her mom's hand and speak to her. She hadn’t thought it was helping, but it was nice to think it had. “Hi, Mr. Cohen,” she said. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
“I’m going to introduce Julie to the other patients, but we’ll be back,” Victoria said and they exited the room.
“What happened to him?” Julie looked back over her shoulder at the man on the bed, but he gave absolutely no indication he’d been aware they’d been there.
Victoria shot her a look. “Did you sign your confidentially agreement?”
“It was part of my orientation,” Julie said. “And no, I’m not going to tell anybody.”
“Good,” Victoria said, mollified. “He had an infection in his brain and his doctors put him into a coma to help him heal. He’s actually doing a lot better than he was.”
“Infection in his brain?” Julie asked, shocked. “How?”
“Some diseases can get into the brain, unfortunately,” Victoria said. They went into another room. “And this is Ms. Hussein. She’s a near-drowning.” The woman looked to be in her early twenties and was also deeply asleep.
Victoria went to the woman and brushed her hand over her forehead. “Hello, Farida. I’ve brought a volunteer to meet you.”
“Hi, Farida. I’m Julie. I hope you don’t mind me coming back to read to you.” She looked at her aunt. “That’s so sad.”
“Yeah, it is.” Her Tía sighed and took Julie out of the room. “She’s been like that for a couple weeks now, which isn’t a good sign. But hopefully you talking to her will help, yeah?”
“Hopefully,” Julie said. “But doesn’t her family come around?”
“Every patient’s family comes around. But they have jobs and lives and other responsibilities, like you guys did. That’s why you’re here. To help fill that gap.”
Julie remembered meeting a couple of the volunteers who’d stayed with her mom when they couldn’t be there. It’d always made her feel better to know Rose hadn’t been alone. “I’m glad I’ll get to do that.”
“And you’ll do great.” Victoria put her arm around Julie’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “Now prepare yourself, mija, this one’s particularly tragic.”
“Tragic...?” Julie followed her aunt into the next room.
There was a man lying unconscious on the bed. Her heart clenched. “He’s so young!”
“Only seventeen,” Victoria said sadly. “His name’s Luke Patterson.”
Luke. She didn’t know him, but the name seemed to suit. “What happened to him?”
“Car crash about two months ago,” Victoria said. “Which is why he’s trached instead of intubated, and they’ve put a G-tube and a pic line in.” She pointed to the tube going directly into his throat that connected to the ventilator, the collection of IV ports in his right elbow, and the rubber tube that snaked under his blankets, which was attached to a hanging bottle.
Julie had never seen a trach before. It was weird to see him breathing directly through his neck instead of his mouth. “Why’d they do that?”
“Being intubated for a long time can damage the vocal cords,” Victoria explained. “It’s standard practise for anyone who’s been in a coma this long. To protect their voice. That’s also why he’s being fed through the tube.” Julie got that. He’d want to speak when he woke up, and not starve to death before then. “Hi, Luke,” Victoria said to him. “I’d like you to meet my niece, Julie. She’s going to be singing to you.”
Julie’s eyes snapped to her aunt, upset she’d promise him that. “Singing?”
Victoria nodded. “Yes, singing. Luke’s a musician. I’m sure it’d mean a lot to him to hear you sing.”
“A musician?” Julie moved closer to the bed. Luke’s brown hair was shaggy and a little greasy and looked like it hadn’t been cut in a while. There was scruff on his cheeks, which were far too pale for a teenager living in California. He was definitely handsome, with beautiful, even features and a mouth people wrote songs about. But his closed eyes and waxy skin made him look more like a mannequin than a real boy.
It was really sad, just like Victoria said. Her throat tightened with tears. She focussed on the hand Victoria was holding.
“Uh huh. He has the same callouses on his hands your mother did.” Victoria gently took his limp hand and turned it over so Julie could see the hard ridges on his fingertips. “You need to wake up, Luke. Your callouses are fading.” She rubbed his palm. “I brought my niece Julie to meet you,” Victoria continued. “She’s a musician, like you. I think you’ll have a lot in common.”
It wasn’t true. She hadn’t been a musician since her mom got sick. It was brutally unfair for Victoria to put her on the spot like that. Luke might be in a coma, but Victoria had told her he’d be able to hear what they were saying. What if, deep in his unconscious brain, he’d be disappointed not to hear her sing? She dared to look back at his pallid face for a moment, wishing there was even a flicker of movement under his eyelids. She said the first thing that came to her mind. “Hey, Luke, I hope you’re sleeping well.” Her face heated. She didn’t know why she said that. It wasn’t like he was sleeping, after all. She glanced at her Tía, embarrassed.
Her aunt was coughing like something got caught in her throat.
Julie was about to ask if her aunt needed some water, when she heard someone call her name. She turned her head in the direction of the sound, puzzled, but there was no one there. Julie shook her head to clear it. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” her aunt croaked. “I’m sure he liked you saying that. That he’s sleeping. Sounds like he could wake up anytime.”
Her aunt’s reaction was a little weird, but then again, what Julie had said was weird, too. “Maybe I could read to him?” Julie offered. “Like, Harry Potter?”
“That’s a great idea!” Victoria said. “He should enjoy that. And you singing, of course.”
Julie gave a gusty sigh. “Tía, we talked about this.”
“I know. But where there’s life, there’s hope, huh?” She rubbed Luke’s shoulder before looking back at Julie. “So, who’d you like to visit with first?”
Julie glanced back at Luke, lying so unmoving he could already be dead. Maybe it was the breadth of his shoulders, or the definition in his arms, but she just knew he’d never normally be that still. It was awful, seeing him like that, and it worsened the clog of tears in her throat. I don’t even know him! she chastised herself. It was ridiculous she was letting this injured boy get to her so badly, but if she stayed even a moment longer, she’d be bawling. “Mr. Cohen,” she said. The older man hadn’t made her even a fraction as sad as she was looking at Luke.
“Oh,” Victoria said, and there was a wealth of disappointment in that one word. “I thought you’d want to spend time with Luke first. He’d probably like having someone his age—”
“Not today, okay?” Julie snapped. She marched out.
Her aunt followed. “I’m sorry, carina,” she said, contrite. “I forget how difficult seeing the patients like this can be sometimes. Guess I’ve been a nurse too long.”
Victoria’s apology calmed some of Julie’s anger. “It’s just hard being in his room, okay?” She hugged herself.
“I’m sure it must be,” Victoria said. “A boy your age in a place like this… “ She shook her head.
“He shouldn’t be here. He should be out playing music somewhere, not in here.” It was just like when her mom was sick. The sense of inherent wrongness for someone as creative and talented and alive as Rose was to be dying in hospital. Tears pricked her eyelids and Julie blinked furiously. She’d barely been volunteering for half an hour and she was already falling apart. “He’s really been like that for two months?”
Victoria nodded grimly. “A bit longer, actually. He was lucky he was in the passenger seat.”
Julie swallowed against the lump in her throat. Her mother had only lasted in hospital for three. “Is he getting any better?”
Victoria shook her head, face solemn.
Luke was dying. Just like Julie had thought. The simple truth hurt more than she expected. She wiped her eyes.
Victoria’s look was full of compassion. “Maybe it’s enough for today? Wednesday’s plenty of time to start then.”
All Julie wanted to do was leave the ICU and never look back. But her mind immediately flashed to the three patients she’d met, and especially Luke. Victoria said their families visited, but no one was with them now. Luke might be dying, but he didn’t have to spend his last days alone. She squared her shoulders. “No. I can do this. I want to help them like the volunteers helped mom.”
Victoria nodded. “Okay then. Let’s find a newspaper or magazine for you to read to Mr. Cohen. He seems like the type who’d like current events.” She headed back towards the nursing station.
Julie followed, looking over her shoulder at the door to Luke’s room as they passed. There was part of her that wanted to pretend she’d never met him; to forget someone so young and passionate about music was stuck in hospital, just like her mom had been. But most of her wanted to go back and see him. To feel the callouses on his fingertips for herself, to stroke his face and watch his eyes flutter open… She shook her head at her foolishness. Life wasn’t a fairy tale, and no matter how she’d said he was sleeping before, he wasn’t sleeping beauty.
But he also wasn’t dead yet. “Maybe I could read to Luke, after?”
Victoria glanced at her over her shoulder. “Mija, I think that’s a great idea.”
“Hey,” Luke said when the nurse and the young woman came into his hospital room.
“Hey!” he called louder when they bent over his body. They were talking about him, but their words were muddied and indistinct and he had to concentrate to understand. The nurse turned his hand over, and stroked her fingers along his palm. He looked down at his hand, straining to feel her touch on his body. There was nothing.
“Why can’t you hear me?” Luke whispered. It’d been like this for ages. He was there, both in the hospital bed, and also not. But the part of him that wasn’t in his body couldn’t be seen, or heard, or felt by anyone.
He’d never been so lonely in his life.
He sat on the edge of his bed, legs dangling as he watched the nurse and the girl. He knew they were talking about him, even though the words sounded indistinct like they were standing in another room. They were probably talking about how young he was, or how tragic it was for him to be in hospital. He caught the word "sing", and he hoped it meant someone would play him some music. The closest he’d come were the monitors beside his bed, beeping the same rhythm over and over again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard real music.
But he could remember how he got there. The horrible shriek of metal tearing into metal, and the way his head careened into the glass. The agonizing spike of pain before an infinite nothingness.
He still didn’t know what had happened to Bobby.
He tore his thoughts away from his friend to focus on the girl. She was really pretty. He liked her large, dark eyes and the curve of her lips, and the way her hair made corkscrew curls down past her shoulders. She gave the nurse a fleeting smile and seeing it made him feel warm inside in a way he hadn’t felt in forever. He moved so that he was standing closer to her, following her gaze as she stared at his slack features. His eyes were closed, his mouth partially open, and that freaky tube was poking out of his neck. He wondered if he was comfortable, or in pain, or if his back itched. He couldn’t feel anything from his body at all.
The girl started speaking, and Luke leaned in closer, concentrating to hear her words.
“Hey, Luke, I hope you’re sleeping well.”
It was like he was hit with a jolt of lightning. He reeled back, landing hard on the floor, his hand pressed to his right side.
She’d said his words. She’d said his words!
“Julie?” he said, eyes wide.
She turned around and looked right at him. Luke gasped, scrambling to his feet. “Julie! Can you hear me? I’m—”
She shook her head and turned back around.
Luke deflated like a popped balloon. Julie had just said his words. She was his soulmate. The woman he’d been waiting for all his life.
Only he didn’t have a life anymore. He was a ghost haunting his own body. A body that was too stupid to just let himself die.
“Fuck,” he muttered, then screamed: “Fuck!” at the top of his lungs. He kicked the wheel of his bed once, twice, three times as hard as he could. He could feel the ricochet of shock up his leg but nothing moved.
The nurse and his soulmate left. They didn’t even look back.
He sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. His arms wrapped around his knees. “I wish you’d die,” he whispered. “Why won’t you die?”
There was no one around to see him crying.